#i needed the valve it provided

[storkmuffin]

Free space! Tell me what your most feral, unhinged Ateez thoughts are at the moment

Mingi should only wear narrow legged pants. I dgaf what is in fashion right now or what people have to say about skinny jeans. Put that mofo in leggings if you have to. SHOW ME THOSE LEGS BOY.

Seonghwa's power comes from his eyebrows the way Samson's power came from his hair. This is why the decision to bleach his brows recently made his expressiveness go super saiyan. Also even though he would probably hate it I think he should have lipstick smeared across his face at some point. 'Twould be very hot.

Spoiler for my eventual San write up: San is the Korean male second coming of Marilyn Monroe/Norma Jean Baker, where she specifically demanded that all the pain points of her life be corrected in this reincarnation. I will explain later.

I hope there is a lot of unhinged non-horny fanfic about Yeosang having nightmares about his desire to murder San once Wooyoung decided that San was the better foil for his antics, even though I won't be reading it, bc there is a LOT to be mined there. Is the sad conversation that Yeosang had with Mingi, quote - "San really likes Wooyoung so much doesn't he?" at the moment WooSAN formed instead of WooSanG well known in the overseas fandom?? BECAUSE THAT HAPPENED.

I want Wooyoung and Yunho to physically fight each other. I DONT KNOW WHY bc I can't even watch Olympic taekwondo matches without freaking out, but hear me out - Wooyoung is a jumper and a biter and fast vs Yunho is super strong and a natural at 씨름 who is not only very big but has the most enormous hands ever. I feel an exciting tension between them because Yunho has boss and leadership capacities and Wooyoung has drive and hunger and sparkle for individual stardom. FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT.

[davepaste]

shuffling my queue everytime i dump more ivy deadlock in there so no one realizes im obsessed a bit

[robolvrr]

hey im 21 and i just found ur blog im obsessed w the rodimus x reader thing u wrote and I was wondering if you could write smth similar for either shockwave or soundwave x reader (or both??? 😳) - I luv to see a human bringing a bot to their knees and ur writing is top tier

lovedrunk ᴗ｡‿⁠✷

soundwave x gn! human reader

warnings: nsfw! drabble. thank you for the patience! ✷

warmth splashes down your back, gooey and metallic. the sensation forces your eyes open, lashes dew-kissed with tears. it envelopes you with grounding peace, even though your nerves are rattled and you can barely force out a gasp.

you're surprised when you're gently turned around, facing the reflection of your own desires staring cherubly back at you. it's sweet, the gesture itself hinting neediness.

soundwave's visor is blazing crimson, heat radiating from his dark-blue accents bold on his bulkier frame. he didn't possess the proper eyes to convey his drunkenness on you, but his attention is felt nonetheless, square on the trembling of your hands.

he's looking at his transfluid, pretty shades of pink painting your soft flesh and drying like polish. you glitter and sheen.

you can hear the way his fans click and reset in efforts to keep his temperature level, too. it's tantalizing.

"keep going. wanna feel you in me again."

although he fully could overpower you and at first glance it appears he is - spike pressurized, slamming deep and mechanically with a passion that an hollowed-out being like him shouldn't possess - that isn't the case. the metaphorical leash is held tight in your palms, knuckles white from the squeeze.

"as you wish."

does his vocalizer fizzle at the end, or is your imagination playing tricks?

so intimate, the way his giant servo cradles your spine. you meet his thrusts with shallow rocks of your own, admiring the thickness go in and out with little trouble. creamy arousal glistens near flaring biolights lining his shaft. his digits fist in your hair and you nod, approvingly.

"mmn, just. like. that. just like t-thaaat, ooo-oh!"

soundwave's creaking groan deep at his spark rumbles within earshot and has you blushing, toes curled as he starts to speed up. he doesn't share your need for breaks but to his surprise and maybe, while not admitted delight - you do keep up better than assumed.

you press your lips to your arms which have unfolded above your head, mouth gushing with spit. soundwave thinks the laughter, shrill and wanting and happy, is the most enchanting music that's touched this side of the planet.

it's even more so when it's all for him.

the sun crescents above as he continues to plow into your tinier hole, perversion at its finest when even the tightest of valves could hardly hold candlelight to what you provide. in a different world, one where conquering wasn't so atop his natural duties, he'd have you seated in his lap. except, you'd be looking down on him, that messy spit of yours lolling off your tongue, into his intake, down his chin - he's yours, he's all yours, don't you see?

"i... i am close." soundwave sounds grittier than usual.

even with your insides rearranging, just a chip from a titans resolve is more than enough to invigorate. a single touch to his chest and he's leaning back, taking you with him in a gentle scoop. still doing his best to keep going, trying not to peak when it's clear you're still starving.

his e.m. field shrieks for you. could he brand your handprints on his chest, near his crest?

delirious. he must take up with shockwave. what makes humanity so addictive? do you have some sort of biological spell, a mixture of chemicals and haunting charm that drives mechs mad?

"that's right. fill me. take me." bouncing. you look evil, little beast, little monster. "t-take it." keeping in time with that everlasting torture his spark beats, his helm dips back, arms shaking. "overload. overload in me, soundwave, coat all of me in you, fuck, fuck, fuck-"

a whimper. it took hours, but it's well earned. he whimpers, as you slowly lift up to the tip, only riding enough to suction his spike at the most sensitive area in efforts to gain every drop he has to give.

you don't have to repeat yourself. with a roar, he jackhammers a final time violently, steam whistling between his exposed seams and shit, you wouldn't have it any other way. overload he did, enough to spurt and bubble, stare staggering between the remnants dribbling from your sore body, to the sheen of sweat, then the grin that's stayed picture perfect.

primus. you're still going. you're still moving, groping your own body roughly. one day, you promised he'd be allowed if he kept up his behavior. he can't find himself to do anything but lay back and watch, the cavity in his chassis aching.

soundwave may be loyal to megatron, his brother in arms, the decepticon cause.

but you? he worships you.

robolvrr 2025.

a/n : thank you again for the patience! i will be revisting both waves because i can't resist them (sorry for edging y'all LMAO.)

[muletia]

[tfp] obsessed!orion pax x human!reader valveplug, minors don't interact!

based on this delicious ask about orion overloading from inhaling your pheromones and some tags provided by @tom-foolery-incorporated <3

word count: 800

Holding Orion’s helm on both sides, you pull him toward you, feeling no resistance from the startled mech. His faceplate lands against your chest, and you immediately envelop him in warmth, letting him sink into the softness of your human body. The familiar shape of your torso and the rhythmic symphony of your heartbeat give him a sense of comfort and belonging, as if, after a long, exhausting day, he has finally found his way home. Orion lifts his optics to you and smiles in gratitude, though you cannot see the expression.

“I missed you,” you murmur tenderly, pressing a kiss to the top of his helm.

“I am glad that our feelings…” he begins, but his words are abruptly cut off by the sudden, unfamiliar scent flooding his olfactory sensors.

It is sweet, unmistakably yours, yet tainted with something unknown — something he cannot name. Has no time to analyze it before the scent overwhelms him, urging to flee, to pull away before it does irreversible damage to his processor. Escaping should not be a challenge; after all, you are not restraining him, granting him full freedom to move. But the problem is that he hesitates to run.

One breath. Then another. And another. Each inhale draws the scent deeper, seeping into his very core, coating his spark, his tank, until it finally reaches the most sensitive parts of his frame, teasing them mercilessly. It creeps behind his interface panel, wrapping around his spike and valve, luring them into a dance with the desire that consumes him in an instant. Just moments ago, all he had wanted was to hold you close, whispering sweet words in your ear, but now — now, the image of sliding his spike into your tight, burning-hot folds is the only thought left in his processor. The only thing he wants to think about. The only thing he can.

Orion takes another involuntary breath, stress-induced from the sudden onslaught of overwhelming need, and it seals his fate.

“[Name]!” he cries out, voice breaking. His concealed spike spasms, and from its tip, thick strands of pink transfluid spill out, splattering against his panel before slowly dripping downward, seeping into the seams, finding their way out. Some rivulets trail down his thighs, while others pool onto the floor beneath him.

“Orion, did you just come?” you ask bluntly. Watching the way his back arches, his optics roll upward, and listening to the symphony of his stifled moans, you are certain of the answer. You should be surprised — after all, you had barely given him any real stimulation to get him to overload — but you know your partner well enough to have learned just how little he needs to unravel. Still, the meaner part of you, the one that always surfaces when Orion is deliciously pathetic, wants to see undeniable evidence of his overload.

“Move your head. I want to see.”

“Ah!” Orion whimpers. “N-No, do not look,” he pleads, suddenly ashamed of the intensity of his own desperation.

His embarrassment does not last long, though, because Orion does not want to pull away. He does not want to lose this intoxicating sense of helplessness, this loss of control that breathing in your scent grants him. He wants to stay right here, drunk on your sweetness.

You roll your eyes. “Oh, now you’re getting shy? Please, I’ve seen you worse.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, barely processing your words. He inhales again, this time intentionally, and just like before, your scent floods his body. His still-hard, aching spike throbs, pleading for another overload, and his valve clenches around nothing, echoing the demand. He has no choice but to take in more of your scent, to drown himself in it. He presses himself against you harder, as if trying to meld into your body, rubbing his faceplate against your chest in a desperate chase for another untouched, hands-free climax.

Forgetting his own immense strength, he unwittingly forces you several steps backward, making you struggle to keep your balance.

“Hey!” you yelp, giving him a light, scolding pat on the helm. “I almost fell!”

That, finally, seems to snap him out of it — at least for a moment. Orion lifts his optics to meet yours, guilt flickering in his gaze. “A-apologies,” he murmurs, but his focus does not last long. He immediately buries his faceplate back against you, sensitive olfactory sensors dragging over your torso, trying to provoke another overload.

“Ah! [Name], please, help me!” he whines, his voice raw with need. He has to be inside you. Needs to ground himself, to find something solid to cling to, or else he fears he will completely lose his mind.

You sigh, feigning exasperation. “As you wish, love.” and Orion hurriedly retracts his transfluid-slick interface panel.

[justyn1]

The Spycrab. Why does it exist?

What is a Spycrab?

A Spycrab is an iconic animation bug for the Spy from Team Fortress 2. This bug was introduced since the game’s launch in 2007 and still exists today!

This post will cover on what causes this bug happen, how to fix it, and why it SHOULDN’T be fixed.

Debugging the Spycrab

First we need to know how do you become a Spycrab in TF2. To become a Spycrab the player have to pull out the disguise kit, crouch, look up, then start moving in any direction.

This give us a clue on what’s going on. The issue is related to looking around while crouching with the Spy’s disguise kit. We can take a look at how Valve setup the Spy’s animations since they provided the model sources in the Source SDK. Let’s take a look at spy_movement.qci since that’s where they handle all of the animations related to moving around. From this point I will refer the disguise kit as PDA since that’s what it called in the sources. Looking at the entry for Crouch_PDA and Crouch_Walk_PDA everything seems to be written correctly. Theres nothing wrong with the code itself

Line 15: $sequence Crouch_PDA PDA_crouch_idle loop alignto a_reference addlayer PDA_aimmatrix_crouch_idle activity ACT_MP_CROUCH_PDA 1

Line 424: $MPCrouchWalkWithWeapon Crouch_Walk_PDA 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 PDA_crouch_walkN PDA_crouch_walkCenter PDA_aimmatrix_crouch_idle ACT_MP_CROUCHWALK_PDA $infoNode$  

This means that the issue is coming from one of the animations itself. Lets load up the PDA crouch animations in SFM and compare with the normal stand up animations.

Everything looks fine however there’s something odd with the pda_aimmatrix_crouch_idle animation. It’s in a different pose entirely! To summarize what a aim matrix do, the animator put the character in various poses mimicking that the character is looking around. The game will take those poses and blend between them depending on what direction the player is looking. Generally you don’t want to stray way from the idle pose too much since it can cause potential problems when blending between various poses at once.

With closer inspection, it seems the pda_aimmatrix_crouch_idle animation is actually an early version of the spy’s knife aim matrix animation. Here’s both aim matrices side by side.

The Fix

Now knowing that the bug is created by accidentally exporting another aim matrix animation for the wrong weapon. The fix is actually very simple! Without touching the animation files itself. We can go into the spy_movement.qci and replace any mention of pda_aimmatrix_crouch_idle with pda_aimmatrix_idle and that’s it! Compiling spy_animations.qc and loading up TF2 we will see the Spycrab no longer works.

But should this bug really be fixed?

This is the part where I tell you that the Spycrab bug should never be fixed in TF2. Even though this bug was stemmed from a mistake and it’s pretty simple to fix. This bug should never be fixed purely because it’s very important for the game’s history and community. After this bug was discovered and popularized back in 2008. It spawns plenty of memes within the community and in-game references from community cosmetics and unusuals, an official rare taunt for the disguise kit, warpaints, and a poster from the map Carnival of Carnage a Halloween reskin of Doomsday.

Hopefully this post provide some interesting insight on how this iconic bug was created and the process of debugging animations in Source Engine!

[housecow]

i have knee problems stemming from an injury when i was younger. if i step wrong and fall in a certain way, the pain is so bad i can’t walk. but sometimes i like to fantasize: what if something even worse happens and i can’t walk for weeks? what if i happen to be in regular close contact with my feeder?

it’d be hard being told i have rest and let myself heal. there are plans coming up that have to be cancelled, the few active hobbies i have left take a hit. but…it’s so easy to accept every snack brought to me. after all, i sought out a feeder—this lifestyle is the one i’ve eaten myself towards. and he knows i have an inclination towards eating too much. that first week goes easier than it should; weight starts to pile on. but i miss going out, even running errands sounds nice. in the few moments my hands are absent of food or a shake i am regularly in contact with my friends.

the next week i’m better but… i feel slow. my feeder has started to keep people away because i need to rest and he’s right, healing is taxing on the body. i start responding less to others, too. our funnel has gotten so much more use in the last few days. the sugar and constant snacks step up and i can tell there is an agenda behind it all but *god* it feels good to be doted on. he helps me through the necessary exercises but trips across the house are rare. i notice how difficult it is to lift myself up now—how sedentary have i been?

that question doesn’t cross my mind again, there are better things to focus on. my feeder knows how to use my adhd to his advantage—food, sex, TV, and games all provide the dopamine hit needed to keep me distracted. the 3rd week is similar enough to the 2nd: ritualistic feeding becomes the norm. we don’t need a valve to control the flow on the funnel anymore, he knows i can finish everything. my belly is swollen out into my lap all of the time now, if i hold my boobs aside i can see new stretch marks creeping across my expanding hips. i expect the snacks, “babe, can you grab me something from the fridge?” is a phrase heard several times in the day. and my feeder obliges.

the 4th week we have an appointment and im told i should walk and start being active again. the doctor looks nervous though and tells me i need to watch my weight, he says something like “its alarming how quickly this happened,” but i blocked it out because—i can’t even see how much i weigh? my belly blocks the view now. oh my god.

in the car afterwards my feeder expresses doubt at the situation: “you don’t look so steady on your feet, i think you should still take it easy.” his eyes meet mine and i don’t miss the brief glance away, desire obvious at the sight of my rounded figure that’s entirely his fault. i know what he wants and i can’t deny myself that want, either. and he knows better in these situations, i trust his judgement. maybe it is best to stay in. plans can be pushed further back… the walk back to the car was a little difficult, too.

the next weeks—or does it span months?—pass in a blur. staying in is all i want to do. although i’m supposedly healthy again, i rarely get up and walk around more than needed. “needed” means a slow, clumsy walk to the fridge and back to either the couch or the bed. when my feeder is not there to feed me himself he takes time to order food to the door. bending down to pick things up is a monumental effort for me—a heavy, wide belly pressing into my fattened thighs. my swollen tits obscure my vision but serve as an excellent table when i need.

my feeder comes home one day and im asleep, taking up more than my fair share of the couch. my breaths are not easy and its obvious how much i ate beforehand: mostly-empty 2 liters, takeout containers haphazardly stacked on top of one another as they were finished, countless snack packages balled up and stuck between the couch cushions because sometimes i like to squirrel stuff away. as if there was a chance of hiding these habits my feeder built.

but the best part of it all is the empty pitcher sat against the corner of the couch, because i couldn’t reach to the coffee table to properly set it down with so much fat making every movement difficult.

the remnants a weight gain shake. our usual ingredients of cake mix, melted ice cream, strawberries, chocolate syrup, nutella, crushed oreos. it was hastily made, however, and it’s obvious by the chocolatey powder on the sides of the container that it was about the calories this time, not the taste. he can see where some escaped the pitcher and poured down my overly plump, round face and past the lovingly cultivated double chin. it dripped onto my breasts, lovely puddles of calories he wish made it inside of me even if the sight is wonderful. after that thought, an idea comes up. how deep are the rolls he’s gifted me? a cow this size needs to be used.

[lotus-tower]

The Swiss Cheese Model of Covid Prevention

An edited version of the swiss cheese model tailored towards the measures that you as an individual can take to minimize your risk of infection. Public health is ultimately what its name implies, public, but that doesn't mean you're powerless.

Covid prevention is not all-or-nothing. Think of it as risk reduction, rather than a binary.

Let's go through these step by step.

VACCINES

The current vaccines are meant primarily to reduce chances of severe illness, hospitalization, and death. They will reduce your chance of infection a bit--but not nearly as much as you might think. You should still get your boosters regularly, because avoiding severe illness is of course worth doing.

If you haven't gotten the updated monovalent vaccine yet, go get it. It is not a booster. Think of it as a new vaccine. It's targeted towards the XBB lineages, which are now the most common variants. Your last boosters were likely of the bivalent type, aimed at both the original Covid strain from 2020 and Omicron. The new vaccine is monovalent, meaning it targets one family in particular.

Some studies suggest that the Novavax vaccine, which is a more traditional protein-based vaccine, is more effective and safer than mRNA vaccines, and offers better protection against future variants. Of course, the data we have so far isn't 100% conclusive (the last paper I linked is a preprint). Make of these findings what you will, just something to keep in mind. The new Novavax vaccine's availability is still limited, especially outside of the US.

MASKS

Masking is one of the most effective ways to protect yourself. While it is true that masking and reducing Covid transmission protects those around you, the idea that masks can't protect the wearer is outdated information from the early days of the pandemic when medical authorities refused to acknowledge that Covid is airborne.

The key to protecting yourself is to wear a well-fitting respirator. You want to minimize any gaps where air might leak out. If your glasses get fogged up, that's a sign that air is leaking.

Headbands will always have a tighter fit than earloop masks (and therefore provide better protection). However, you can use earloop extenders to improve the fit of earloop masks. You can find these online. Your comfort in wearing a mask is important, but there are options for compromise.

The above graphic doesn't include elastomeric respirators. While some (like the Flo Mask) are expensive, they can be much more affordable than buying disposables--look for P100 respirators at your local hardware store, but make sure it fits your face well.

For more general information, see this FAQ. For mask recommendations (NA-centric, sorry!), see my list here or Mask Nerd's YouTube channel.

For situations where you need to hydrate but don't want to take your mask off, consider the SIP valve.

Not even N95s are foolproof (N95 means it filters at least 95% of particles--with the other 5% potentially reaching you). Most people will likely not have a perfect fit. There will be situations where you'll have to take your mask off. The key is risk reduction, and that's why the Swiss cheese model is crucial.

If you can't afford high-quality masks, look for a local mask bloc or other organization that gives out free masks. Project N95 has unfortunately shut down. In Canada, there's donatemask.ca.

AVOID CROWDED INDOOR SPACES

This is rather self-explanatory. Indoor transmission is much, much, much more likely than outdoor transmission. If it's possible to move an activity outdoors instead, consider doing so.

If possible, try going to places like stores or the post office during less busy hours.

Viral particles can stay in the air for a considerable amount of time even after the person who expelled them has left. Do not take off your mask just because no one is currently present, if you know that it was previously crowded.

A CO2 monitor is a decent proxy for how many viral particles may have accumulated in the air around you. The gold standard is the Aranet4, but it's expensive, so here are some more affordable alternatives.

VENTILATION AND AIR FILTERS

Ventilation is effective for the same reason that outdoors is safer than indoors. If it's warm enough, keep windows open whenever possible. If it's cold, even cracking them open occasionally is better than nothing. Try to open windows or doors on different sides of a room to maximize airflow.

HEPA air filters can significantly reduce viral transmission indoors. Make sure to find one suitable for the room size, and replace the filters regularly. You want to look for devices with HEPA-13 filters.

You can use websites like these to calculate how long it takes for a device to change all the air in a room. Remember what I said about viral particles being able to hang around even after people have left? If an air purifier provides 2 air changes per hour, that means that after 30 minutes, any potential viral particles should be gone.

If you can't afford a commercial air filter, here's a useful DIY filter you can make with relatively simple materials. The filtration capacity is great--but due to being built with duct tape, replacing filters will be a challenge.

If you have to hold meetings or meet with people at work, having a smaller filter on the desk between you will also reduce chances of infection.

As a bonus, HEPA filters will also filter out other things like dust and allergens!

REDUCE LENGTH OF EXPOSURE IF EXPOSURE IS UNAVOIDABLE

Viral load refers to the amount of virus in a person's blood. If you've been exposed to someone with Covid, how much you've been exposed matters.

You might escape infection if the viral load you've been exposed to is very small. Or, even if you get infected, there will be less virus in you overall, leading to milder illness--and crucially, a lower chance of the virus penetrating deep into your body, creating reservoirs in your organs and wreaking long-term havoc.

A low viral load is also less contagious.

This is the same reason that wearing your mask most of the time, but having to take it off for eating, is still much better than not wearing your mask at all.

RECHARGEABLE PORTABLE AIR FILTERS

You might attract some odd looks. But if you're at high risk or just want to be as protected as possible, small portable air filters can help. Try to find models small enough to take with you on public transportation, to school, or while traveling.

These devices will be far too small to clean the air in the whole room. The goal is to have it filter air in your immediate vicinity. Be sure to angle the device so that the air is blowing in your face.

Unfortunately, rechargeable devices are much rarer and harder to find than normal air filters, and many are also expensive.

The best option at the moment, apart from DIY (which is possible, but you need to know what you're doing), seems to be the SmartAir QT3. The size and shape are a bit clunky, but it fits in a backpack. Its battery life isn't long, but it can be supplemented with a power bank.

NASAL SPRAYS

There's some research that suggests that some nasal sprays may be effective in reducing risk of infection by interfering with viruses' ability to bind to your cells.

These sprays are generally affordable, easy to find, and safe. The key ingredient is carrageenan, which is extracted from seaweed. So there are no potential risks or side effects.

Be sure to follow the instructions on the packaging carefully. Here's a video on how to properly use nasal sprays if you've never used them before.

Covixyl is another type of nasal spray that uses a different key ingredient, ethyl lauroyl arginate HCI. It also aims to disrupt viruses' ability to bind to cell walls. Unfortunately, I think it's difficult to obtain outside of the US.

CONCLUSION

None of the methods listed here are foolproof on their own. But by layering them, you can drastically reduce your chances of infection.

The most important layers, by far, are masking and air quality. But you should also stay conscientious when engaging with those layers. Don't let yourself become complacent with rules of thumb, and allow yourself to assess risk and make thought out decisions when situations arise where you might have to take off your mask or enter a high-risk indoor area, such as a hospital.

Remember that the goal is risk reduction. It's impossible to live risk-free, because we live among countless other people. But you can use knowledge and tools to keep yourself as safe as possible.

[jweekgoji]

can you make a 3 part of d-16 of pleasuring him with a spike instead of fingering

Yandere!D-16/Reader

tw: NSF///W (minors don't read), jealousy, possessive behavior, unhealthy attachment, insecurity (D-16's side), yandere themes. word count: additional tags: gender neutral!reader, reader has a spike, D-16 has spike and valve, cybertronian!reader, idol!reader, power bottom!D-16, top!reader a/n: there's so many different continuations of the original posts so that even I can't keep track of it, haha. the previous chapter for this would be >this.

You're so fond of your little devoted fan, it's hard not to find D-16 at least a little cute.

If any of your coworkers heard your thoughts, oh, you would hear their taunts for cycles.

“That's so weird, what do you even see in him?”

“He's half your size, how do you do...well, you know. 'That stuff'.”

“You're definitely a pervert.”

Of course, none of your friends took your interest seriously. It's just a one-night stand; as they say, you will grow tired of that needy little thing and move on. At least, you should.

You're too good for him, too beautiful for everyone's standards, there's plenty of other mechs and femmes showing their desire for you, the ones that can provide you with everything you need.

Chromia, despite your pretend rivalry during the races, seems like paying too much interest in you, and Hot Rod can't stop asking you out on dates, each time you beat him. So many options...and yet, out of all the Iaconians, a miner? Seriously?

Maybe you actually need a little break from everything. If anyone finds out what you two do behind everyone's back, a cogless bot slacking off instead of working tirelessly in search of energon...that information will definitely screw off his chances at getting a better, higher position in the future. With how little respect most Iaconians have for the cogless part of cybertronians, you can only fear of what else the higher-ups can do to him. Not to mention...what will the others tell about you?

And still... Why, why, why were you like this?

D-16 couldn't comprehend in his head why all of a sudden you started to avoid him.

Are you embarrassed of him? He totally understands that; he learned his place in this society for a long time ago; it's not like he will blame you for it.

Maybe he's been too much for you lately? Yes...yes, definitely, isn't it? He's been so demanding the last time, craving your touch and your praise; everything will be good enough for him if only it comes from you.

Every new reason he comes up with for you as an excuse for you to ignore him, leaves a suffocating feeling of fear inside his processor.

'You've lost interest in him, that's all' is constantly ringing in his head. But that can't be true, can it?

You're perfect; you've said you love him and dedicated some of your time to him specifically, even though you could have run away as soon as you had some pleasure.

He must be the reason.

The look of disappointment was etched on D-16's face. Every single time he cheered for you from the crowd, waving his servo in hopeless need for you to spare him at least a single glance.

You pose next to Chromia, your servo on her waist, as one of the photographers approaches you to take a photo together. First and second prize winners, you can't ignore so many questions from the local sports reporters who are trying to get some answers about your relationship with the blue bot.

Playfully, you deny every rumor, but the slight smirk on Chromia's face only encourages the audience more.

“Yes, we're just coworkers,” she gives you a brief glance, winking at you before looking back at the camera again. “Right, partner?”

The sight alone makes D-16 clench his teeth. The large, flat screen projecting the post-race broadcast seems to mock him.

Here on the screen, you seem much closer to him than you have in the last few days of your stubborn silence. He wonders, when you look at the camera, do you think about him? 

Are you even aware that he is, once again, focused only on you, rewatching the broadcast over and over again, just because you appear on the screen?

Primus, he feels so pathetic. Hiding behind one of the few quiet corners, he sighs, servo resting over his optics.

How long has this been going on now? A week? Two? He's so tired of waiting.

D-16 is patient; he really tries to give you as much personal space as possible and as much time as he can give you, but it's so damn hard.

Before, it was easier to control. Before, at least, he didn't have hopeless dreams that you would ever know he existed. But no, now you know him. You know how much he's in love with you—that he's dedicated an entire chunk of his poems about you.

It's not hard for Orion to notice how much his best friend has changed recently. From being strong and determined, D-16 completely avoids any contact with him. Any mention of you only fuels the silver bot more, and it's not uncommon for him to push everyone around him away.

But unfortunately or luckily, Orion is too determined to get off his back so easily. The famous troublemaker won't so easily leave D alone. And as his only best friend, Orion offers him a solution.

“Just sneak into their room when they won't see you and ask them whatever is bothering you. They can't escape you when you corner them!”

Such a ridiculous idea. It annoys him that he's even considering doing it.

Where Orion even gets such ideas from...?

Standing in your room, all alone and surrounded in everything that reminds him of every single thing he adores in you. That alone makes his spark beat faster.

Can he touch that? Some framed photos were carefully placed all over the room. Some with your friends, some with your colleagues; he can recognize the names if he tries hard enough, but it isn't necessary for him when it's only your face he's focused on. You have so many statues after cycles of your career...

It's not like he hasn't been there before. If anything, he's been here plenty of times, but it was never just him in there. Something in this feels more intimate, for some reason, yet it is so, so wrong.

The thoughts about guilt still linger in the back of his mind. He shouldn't be here. That stupid idea Orion suggested him...! Oh great, now he feels wrong.

Can you blame him for it? You've been denying him for so long. It is only natural for him to get a little ahead of himself. He just needs a little taste, just to calm this nagging feeling down his waist. His servo hesitantly reaches for your berth, gently gripping the soft material of the sheets. He just wants to bury his face in it, wrap it around himself, maybe to imagine your gentle hold of him—

Until he hears noise from the outside and all his thoughts stop as he tries to quickly step back from it.

The door opens, revealing only your figure standing in the way. It takes a mere seconds for you to notice an intruder inside your quarters, and the look of surprise showed on your face as you finally realized who it is.

For a moment, none of you let out a single word. His optics wide, mouth slightly open, as if he tries to think of something, anything, but nothing will possibly explain it.

‘This is your chance,’ he quickly thinks, before he musters his courage to finally start to speak.

“...Why? Why were you avoiding me all this time?” D-16's voice quivers; his servo tightens on his own chassis.

The heavy gasps of his breathing are the only sound in the room. You still have no idea how to answer that.

You should have seen that coming. Leaving him alone without any explanation broke his mind, and now frustrated, almost on the edge of tears, you have no other choice but to face the consequences of your own negligence.

Gently closing the door of your room, you decide to continue.

“I was afraid that if someone catch us...they will do something to you.”

D-16's optics widened at your explanation. He expected anything but that. He stops, just staring as if a deer caught in headlights. Not only that, but he was so happy to finally hear that. That at least it's nothing he had thought about before. You care for him, and realizing that makes all his worries disappear for a moment.

But seriously...that's it?

Slowly, a confused look morphs into annoyance; he steps closer to you, grabbing on your wrists.

“You really think...that I care about what others will do to me?” his digits tightening on your frame, almost possessively. “Do you have any idea what I've been thinking all this time? When you kept ignoring me?”

D-16 huffs in frustration, shaking his helm in disbelief. He doesn't understand if he should be angry at you or himself at this moment. He's been overthinking every little thing he had done for the past months that could have possibly made you angry with him. Furthermore, he even broke into your own damn quarters to confront you about it, only to find out that you are just like him.

Thinking too much about small things when the most important person is right next to you.

Primus, you're making him so mad right now, but he lets himself forget about everything, just now.

You feel his servos gripping your face, pulling you towards him, only to meet into the harsh kiss. He cuts off whatever feeble attempt you tried to mutter in apology; no, for now, it all can wait.

He's been waiting for this moment as if for ages. Having you so close to him, his frame pressed against your own, the familiar, burning tingling makes his spike twitch in need.

He wants you; he wants you so much right now, that he barely recognizes himself.

Any other day he'd be too embarrassed to look up at you, too shy to let out a moan in fear that someone might hear.

When he presses you against berth, straddling your hips, he looks nothing like the shy bot you met many, many times before. It's only by one look in his optics, full of need and hunger, that you realize how badly you screwed up.

His inexperience is still so apparent. In a desperate attempt to get you to open your interface panel, he's practically bucking his hips against you, like an animal in heat.

You are so tempted to just watch him trying. Maybe after a good half an hour he'd eventually reach what he desires.

Not wanting to act cruel for now, you finally open your interface panel without a protest. Your own spike pressing between his silver thighs, small droplets of transfluid smearing over the smooth metal.

The sight alone makes D-16 shiver, almost from embarrassment at how fast his own panel opens after watching you.

Spike standing tall, already rock hard, and the wet mess from his valve makes him grind his thighs from impatience. You can only imagine what he'd try to do in your room if you were an hour later to find him.

You feel his servos holding a little tighter on your shoulders, his breathing a little shallow, as he guides himself on your spike. A little shudder runs down his spine at the sensation of you feeling him up, and he barely pays attention to others, making it possible to hear him.

He's been so patient and kind to you. It takes him a little less than a minute to get even more hungry, desperate for more.

“D—” you gasp, your own servo reaching for his waist to slow him down a little, only for him to grind himself on you harder.

He'd be lying if he said that it didn't hurt him a little. He tried to stretch himself every single day since the moment you started ignoring him, hoping not to forget that delicious feeling of you inside him.

Tears prickling in his optics as he stared down at you—oh, how much he dreamed for this moment to finally come true.

Another, loud, shameless moan escapes his lips as your spike hits deeper into him, his valve clenching around your length, begging for more. He feels so full right now.

If only this feeling never ended.

“Agh...frag, yes—” he cries out, arching his back to meet your thrusts.

He's so content with just having you underneath him, while his mind is clouded with nothing but lust and need for you. Optics rolling into the back of his helm, practically seeing stars.

You pant softly, only guiding his movements from time to time, not letting the poor little thing to accidentally hurt himself during such an intimate moment of connection between the two of you. You're barely even doing anything at this point, letting him set control over his own pace.

D-16 salivates at the thought. His inner walls clenching around your spike every so often, making him more aware of his building-up overload. He wants to last so, so much longer.

His spike throbs as your servo wraps around it, gently moving up and down over the sensitive length. You hear him whine, pushing his hips harder for more, more of the sweet friction.

He'd beg you to stop, to not push him over the edge so soon, and he almost wants to swat away your servo from him until he grits his teeth, stifling a groan. Hips moving more erratically, and with a heavy breath, he stutters your name as he finally reaches his release.

With a soft, satisfied hum, you pull your cogless miner closer, letting him rest against you. For a quick moment, you glance down, noticing your spike still buried deep inside him, your chassis painted in his transfluid.

D-16 clinges onto you, servos wrapped around you, as if seeking comfort. He still tries to catch his breath, panting next to your audio receptors, optics closed shut.

Well, Orion's dumb idea worked out...somehow.

[blantheia]

What We Know About Margot: a deep dive into the internet

She is the chem-baroness who controls the brothels of Zaun. Her company is called The Vyx, and its symbol can be seen in the episode where Caitlyn and Vi visit Babette’s brothel—first on Jericho’s napkin and later on the brothel’s door.

She was captured by Caitlyn and the other enforcers during the Hellfire sequence, where her followers were gassed and her business dismantled. It can be assumed that she ended up in prison since Caitlyn caught both her and Chross in a net, and their deaths are never shown on screen.

The piercings and golden valves on her body keep her skin tight, making her look younger than she actually is. As a result, no one knows her real age.

Originally, in the concept art, it was also shown that she used some kind of chemical to maintain her youthful appearance. She looks very old in these early concepts.

Her main headquarters has her face sculpted on the door (a bit megalomaniacal, Margot?), and it’s called RaptureWalk. Some of her thugs seem to have an "M" tattooed on their chests.

In the Secret Cinema event Enter the Undercity, her name and company were revealed for the first time, as she had only appeared in the background during the first season (the chem-barons meeting, 1x07). In this event, Margot’s actress referred to herself as "Mommy Margot" and expressed her opposition to Silco’s reign.

The actress shared that the writers emphasized to her how Margot is skilled at understanding what captivates others, highlighting that pleasure isn’t solely about sex—it can also stem from food, scents, pain, and personal kinks.

VYX's slogan was "A Feast for Every Sense," and an advertisement for the company stated: "The Vyx provides discreet services to the Undercity. We offer connection and companionship for any and all lonely souls. Our dedicated employees can cater to any impulse. No matter your persuasion or inclination, The Vyx has you covered—or rather... uncovered."

In the minigame 'Jinx Fixes Everything', Silco had a portrait of Margot alongside the other chem-barons in The Last Drop. It is suggested that Silco had dirt on all his allies, including her.

Her voice actress is Kimberly Brooks, who also played Sky in the series.

Since the logotypes of the chem-barons all represent something related to their industries, I would say that Margot's simbolizes a female reproductive organ. But that's just my theory-

In the series, she is seen playing with a knife, and has sharp nails in the concept art, giving her a rather dangerous but feminine appearance. Unfortunately, we never see a fight against Margot, unlike with Renni and Smeech.

And I think that's all for now! My conclusion is that she had an incredible potential and a third season was needed to do justice to the chem-barons as villains; they were criminally underutilized.

[mins-fins]

beyond the moon !

"you aren't about to lose such a worthy position to some hunky nepo baby".

synopsis: breaking news: the worst possible person you know is actually more than half decent in bed. of course, it's an easy slam dunk. you will begrudgingly admit that jaemin is pretty nice on the eyes—even if he has the personality of a barbed wire. it's a match made on this soul sucking earth. it's only a little perfect.

pairing: na jaemin x male!reader

genre: alternative universe, main hospital scenery, somewhat grey's anatomy fusion, interns the fic, strangers to rivals to rivals who hookup to friends who hookup to lovers, fluff, some angst, slightly suggestive tones, humor, crazy ass pining that's barely realized until 10k words in, some background relationships that provide other drama

warnings: swearing, explicit language, so many mentions of sex, almost tiptoes into borderline smut like five times, sexual humor, reader and jaemin are both equally emotionally underdeveloped and horny, drinking, the impending stress of the medical field, mentions of death, a bunch of medical jargon you probably don't care about, mentions of surgical procedures, some blood.. i think thats it

word count: 16.7k

notes: hello, merry christmas, happy one year anniversary to my hyuck work which started my whole nct saga on tumblr.. im afraid i am very mentally ill 😓 so!! surgeon jaemin!! originally surgeon jaemin was a serial killer but then i lost wave of that draft over the summer and i tried to do it again 😚 this was half based on early greys anatomy because why the fuck is that show so long and um my own life lowkey?? ofc im not sleeping with my fellow interns but i have seen too much of a hospital i have begun to see the white corridors in my fucking dreams.. save me please life has not treated isa mins-fins well 😭😭 and NO dont listen to user junjiie this is not a self insert i swear!! im still going to the hospital later today soooooooo i lost anyway 🤷‍♂️ lowercase intended as usual and last long work of the year 💖

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 1: do ethics matter when the dick is good? (hyperbole.. actually not)

frankly, it began on a mundane tuesday.

well as mundane as a tuesday for you could be, a week following getting dumped would typically be dedicated to mourning but guleum grace hospital is equally as busy each particular day. you did not underestimate the sheer amount of regular patrons at hospitals, your internship was all about that in fact, pouring your blood sweat and tears into some amateur surgery you had about a twenty five percent chance on performing correctly, however, any chance was any chance.

it isn’t as if you were some lunatic brisked with insanity who valued his work in an irregular fashion, you’d surmise that you were a regular workaholic, the epitome of an overworked medical student stereotype, it all sucked the soul out of you, though your scrubs remained spotless and the eye bags stuck in a much acquainted manner.

unfortunately, your heart attack inducing student debt won’t allow for you to simply quit, neither will your pride, your extent of competitiveness, and your bright need to prove your overbearing parents wrong.

getting into a deathly inviting internship program is enough, what’s shit is surviving, and surviving would be easy if not added on by such a nuisance.

what nuisance? you may ask, well the nuisance that so happens to b—

“present the case l/n”.

you somehow retain your sigh, if the distress is displayed through any means of visibility then doyoung merely doesn’t give a shit. “uh— samuel lawson, fifty two, has been in and out of hospitals four times in the last three months with complaints of sporadic, mild to moderate pain in his chest. we picked up on a heart murmur and his echo showed left ventricular hypertrophy with a repolarization abnormality”.

“what would you recommend?”

“the best course of action is to replace his aortic valve with a porcine valve and prescribe anticoagulants to improve the prognosis”.

“good, and why do we want to pay attention to his kidneys in this situation?”

“his kidneys?” you echo, former exhaustion manifesting in the unscathed widening of your eyes. there’s a whistle, lee donghyuck opting to feign forgetfulness to your very presence, as if he even knows the answer.

you aren’t as easily absentminded, you’ve been hard of thinking recently, read all those printed words yet none of them stuck to the confines of your brain. there’s then a sigh, you initially assume from doyoung, but of course it isn’t.

“ah dr na, how kind of you to join us, perhaps you could remind me of the answer?”

arms folded over his chest, jaemin doesn’t miss a beat. “since his heart isn’t functionally effective his kidneys work as a compensatory mechanism, we’ll need to take increased renin and aldosterone secretions into account when considering general anesthesia and how soon he can go into surgery”.

“i see somebody has been doing their homework” you graciously avoid his eyes, glowering in jaemin’s direction as he offers a meager eyebrow raise. “good job na, you’ll definitely be scrubbing in”.

you pray for his early death.

it’s a seamless lesson whilst interning, competition is everything; you love competition, you live for it even, and na jaemin just so happens to be the nuisance which troubles your every week.

it’s something to even survive your first year of interning, let alone in time for when the seven year residency rolls around. only the best become surgeons, a perfectly manufactured system that is definitely not flawed and has most likely not been the cause of many related mental breakdowns.

you’ve had some undisclosed issues out with na jaemin since the beginning of your program, his awareness manifests in his knowing glances, if swiping cases from under your feet and making your life as hellish as possible is equated to diverting entertainment, na jaemin is elated. at least he has the familial connections to ensure the acclaim, the regarded son of na kiwoo, one of the most well revered orthopedic surgeons in the country. now you aren’t petty enough to spew the claim that na jaemin is bad at his job, he isn’t, however, you are petty enough to state the fact that him getting extra time to redo the practical board exam would’ve never been granted to anybody not with the same fucking last name.

and you suppose somebody else could also reign as worthy competition, but you’re conceited, unabashed in the likeness of your own smarts, you didn’t brave the trenches of medical school to lose such a worthy position to some hunky nepo baby.

~

it’s about half past twelve when huang renjun stumbles into the on-call room.

“you drinking on the job?”

he glares, you smile, there’s something concerning his anger which gets a satisfying kick out of you. you were sat at a desk, overloading on coursework you’d give not even a mere glance toward once you got home, the placid diagrams of human arteries burned into your brain. you spent most of your day, resounding to most of your shift, hanging about downstairs in the E.R, handling skimpy stitches from those who couldn’t help but do something idiotic on a saturday morning. who knew? you’re aware dr. kim probably holds a much lowered opinion of you; however, you still preserve hope that he’ll allow you to scrub in on that upcoming LVAD replacement he has scheduled for later in the week.

“can you believe who got to scrub in on that corpus callosotomy?” his undertone indicated irritation, you did not have to take a glance backward, you could distinctly picture the snuggle frown tugging at his lips.

“can i buy a vowel?”

your response earns a hefty scoff, the ghost of a smile lingers as you take in his much visible exasperation. it appears he wants to look intimidating, but his docile like features do not sell such a point home. “kim wonil, can you believe it!?”

“oh really?” you click your tongue, the raise of an eyebrow paired with the raise of a nearby head, it’s lee jeno’s, you make out. “wow, maybe i should start sleeping with mark lee too”.

“well it’s not like anyone knows if they’re sleeping together— he’s basically just his protégé” what a gentleman lee jeno is, feigning unawareness at the whole thing.

“uh huh, me when i’m fucking the only attending neurosurgeon” you seethe. “seriously, you think he’s taking any under the table offers?”

“you’re an asshole”.

you simply blow renjun a kiss.

whilst renjun may be adamant on the whole civilized pursuit, you would say that sleeping with one of your bosses basically equates to getting favored treatment, you suppose your wavelength on that won’t ever change. “is that coursework?”

your eyebrows raise once renjun leans over your shoulder, you don’t make an effort to nod your head. “that’s coursework, what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m not about to have a splitting headache at home, trying to keep my sanity intact, you know”.

“more like wither your sanity— oh, hey jaemin”.

“hi” jaemin allows renjun the decorum of a smile, because for some reason renjun is the only other intern he has the gall to treat in the manner of a regular human being. he settles in the bed across from you with a look and doesn’t even try a glance in your direction, muttering a small greeting to jeno.

“do you want ibuprofen? i have some in my locker” renjun mutters softly.

you wave a dismissive hand. “no, i’m seriously about to max out on painkillers right now”.

“maybe it’s a tumor” jaemin unexpectedly adds, he doesn’t look up from a book.

“you wish”.

“i do”.

“it could be a caffeine headache” jeno helpfully reckons from where he is across the room, leaning up on his elbows to give you a sympathetic look.

“or the stress” renjun decides. “or your just sleepy because of the stress, i’m getting tired because of the stress” he then makes his way over to the dormant bed and flops right onto it.

“tumor~”.

“why the fuck do you care?”

“i most certainly do not”.

“drop dead asshole”.

“guys..” jeno weakly begins, glancing between you two as if silently picking a side.

“sorry” you feel little remorse towards the tumor hopeful fuckface, simply for everybody else. “the exhaustion is making me mean”.

it appears that a nearby zhong chenle utters the insult of you’re always mean somewhere above you, and then the room grows claustrophobic for you in about five more seconds.

when your chair emits a high pitched screech, renjun’s head rises. “where are you going?”

“gonna find something to do”.

then you shuffle out of the on-call room, feigning ignorance at na jaemin’s continuous stare.

~

later that week, the one person you observe when you walk into the on-call room on wednesday for your mid-shift nap is na jaemin, the current bane of your existence. you’ve been bumping shoulders in the O.R for the past week, and you’re beginning to think that the world is attempting to kill you early, those mystifying forces rambled about in storybooks manifesting whenever his name happens to appear in your mind.

you pause once you step in, meeting his eyes for a charged second before clenching your teeth, they’ll probably begin bleeding soon. you starkly consider backing out, but you can’t surrender your pride to this guy, that would be letting him win, so you sigh and lean your back against the door.

“i’m just here to sleep,” you voice. “waving my white flag”.

“you should be thanking me”.

you’re baffled. “excuse me?”

“i’ve saved your ass like twice this week, god kim would’ve literally eaten you alive if i weren’t around”.

your mouth dries up, jaemin seemingly revels in such a factor, swinging his legs sideways and out of the bed. “you’re terrible under pressure it’s a wonder you even made it through medical school”.

your left eye twitches, the one singular time you try to be civil, he just— he just decides to..?

“you’re so infuriating and arrogant and selfish—“

“oh really? love it when you talk down on me..”

“and you’re so— annoying god why does everyone like you? i hate you, hate you and your stupid privilege and i couldn’t care less what you think because you’re a fucking suck up! stop backing me up if it makes you so mad”.

jaemin then blinks, slow. “finished now?”

“yes” you drop your arms at the side, breathing having gone shallow as pure fury swirled in your ribs. you hate what jaemin does to you, whatever the fuck this is and why is the rooms temperature skyrocketing? that should be impossible in a hospital of all places, but you shouldn’t give it much thought because jaemin will probably begin over analyzing the singular movements of your facial expressions.

you hate feeling like you’re losing, you feel like your losing even if there’s no prevalent competition, it’s just.. jaemin.

that’s really why.

“good” jaemin replies. “i hope you don’t mind”.

and when he pushes you up against the door you think exactly three specific things in the second it takes for him to do that. 1; jesus this guy goes to the gym how the fuck are his forearms so huge? how is he finding time to hit the gym with such a consistent shift? 2; you should’ve gotten more words in cause oh he got the last laugh, and 3; you suddenly remember you never followed up on that post-op for patient 3109– but then all of those thoughts fly out the window when jaemin leads forward to kiss you.

na jaemin is kissing you, full on lips, hands-on-your-waist kissing you, and all you can do is suck in a breath as you then release a soft sound.

jaemin is ridiculously good at this, all soft despite his rough edges, how funny. he pulled off, taking your bottom lip with him before diving back in.

“i meant everything i said” you pant, even as jaemin pressed you further into the door and your arms wrapped around his shoulders in an effort to continue. you exchanged in a similar manner, frenzied and practically leaning half of him backward with your sheer force.

“i know” he grunts, so effortless in all he does, thumb finding the gap in your uniform which he very much decided to exploit. “but you want me anyway..”

“fuck you”.

so smart y/n, you’re getting into heaven with that one—

he chuckles as he mouths against your neck, light open mouthed kisses along your jaw, tugging at your shirt which acted as an obstacle. “that’s the goal”.

“smart ass”.

“well..”

it was the first and only time.

it actually should’ve been the first and only time, but then again, your decision making is particularly fuzzy.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 2: he’s a hotshot, so unfortunately a hotshot..

you’d been skilled enough to pick out your friends at guleum grace hospital on your first day. frankly you had met a good chunk at the intern mixer the hospital had held a week before you were all due to start, but you were the slightest bit nervous with the whole before day apprehension. lee jeno was an easy one, his timidly boyish attitude made for good company, smile replicated by his eyes as he hung around the refreshments table. he laughed at every single one of your jokes, he was sympathetic to your family predicament, much too familiar with such a thing.

lee donghyuck was similarly not a struggle, he seemingly mirrored many of the traits you found stuck to you and carried around throughout your turbulent adulthood. he clung to your side and assigned you the duty as his titular “person”, whatever that meant.

then there was huang renjun.

it isn’t as if he was unapproachable, per say, he was simply perpetual to consistent avoidance. he exchanged regular smiles yet didn’t divulge any further, somewhat unfriendly and argumentative, especially when donghyuck got on his nerves.

trivially, the only true reason you two became friends is because you assisted him in vomiting up his guts after he’d got a lashing for a mistake in the earlier days. your hand remained on the small of his back for the entire fifteen minutes, and when he finished unleashing his true extent of vulnerability upon you, he threatened you to keep your mouth shut, that threat just so happens to be the bow which ties the knot to your relationship.

renjun is able to refer to the patients as the human beings they are, sensitive and overly stubborn sure, but he’s decent under all the sour looks paired with plentiful insults.

zhong chenle? in a completely different league.

“fifty bucks y/n’s little conquest works at this hospital” he opts to enter, sliding into the spot beside you and exchanging a few looks as if he dumped his life savings onto the table for you to gorge on.

“fifty bucks my wha— how’d you even..?”

“aeri likes to gossip” chenle replies, full of cheek. “and a little birdie told me they saw you leaving the on-call room all flustered”.

“a little— who?”

“i can’t tell you my sources”.

“what if i just had a really good nap?”

“thirty bucks it’s an intern” renjun decides to add on, and you blink his way in sheer betrayal. yes they’re right but you didn’t divulge your weeks ago on-call room hookup story time to anybody, you just.. thought about it.

“that’s what yizhuo was saying! you know we have a bet right?” he digs through his pocket before pulling out an unscathed piece of paper. “let’s see we have dr suh from plastics, yeonjun, dejun, and our very own nepo baby na jaemin, pretty good don’t you think?”

“why is jaemin on the list? take jaemin off the list,” though you swipe for the paper, chenle’s got some fast ass hands.

“no no hear me out, okay? he has my vote because the tension is undeniable but i’m on your side and i don’t think you’ll give into his whims”.

“what whims?”

“his seduction tactic including starting petty fights?” renjun recalls, blinking in your direction as if attempting some newly discovered form of communication. “he probably gets off on that..”

“oh he does!”

and then they begin, you simply sigh as you make the effort to finish your lunch, acquainted with the leftovers you again had to heat up because there was little time for you to actually cook something new.

“jaemin’s a freak, wonil said—“

“we can’t trust anything he says, he’s literally fucking dr. dudebro” you steal a fry off chenle’s plate, humming along with your bite.

“i thought they broke it off?” renjun asks in denial, though his gleaming ‘i knew it’ look would completely beg to differ.

“oh come on! everybody knows they’re still fucking, no mystery, no thrill”.

renjun crinkles his nose at the display of crudeness, you don’t forget to recall the thirty bucks he entered into this godforsaken betting pool. “can i kill him?”

your hands raise in mock surrender. “not in front of me, we swore an oath of peace” you rise from your place and keep your plate in your bag. “besides there’s no mystery, no thrill”.

“don’t leave me with him!” renjun squeaks. “where are you going!?”

you do not let up the walking, however, you allow him at least one reassuring smile.

“to see a guy about a thing!”

~

in a rare act of perfect timing, you’re just able to sprint to the elevator as soon as it’s closing. by the power of the universe’s most evil, jaemin is the only one inside, and he blankly stares as you hold your folders out to hold the door before ducking in. you hit the button for the sixth floor and begin panting as you lean against the wall.

jaemin barely spares a glance, but his smile says everything. “back for more already?”

“did you tell anyone about us?”

he opts to chuckle at that one. “us? we sleep together once and you’re already thinking there’s an us baby?”

“shut the fuck up, na, like half our class is in a betting pool for when i’m going to let you into my pants so i swear to god if you told anybody i’m going to ship you to the O.R and harvest all of your fucking organs”.

the threat shines brightly above him, smile shimmering. “i’m sure you’d love to do that”.

his smile is endless and the point by which his stare begins is simply dark, it’s that stupid dead-eyed stare that could murder anyone just by one mere glance. if looks could kill, your insides would’ve been splattered all over this elevator currently.

finally, jaemin rolls his eyes.

“christ, relax, no i didn’t, i definitely don’t know anything about a bet either”.

you let out a much needed breath and again allow yourself to lean against the wall of the elevator. the only worse thing than people thinking your friends with jaemin is people thinking you’re actively sleeping with jaemin. well— okay you suppose there are worse things to be known for but being pegged as the intern banging na jaemin is definitely up there.

“i meant what i said by the way, that was a one time thing”.

“of course”.

“stop fucking smiling like that”.

it appears to be his innate need to ensure your irritation, his smile barely resists the clear urge to grow at the sight of your frown. “god, thought you liked my smile?”

“it’s never happening again” you insist. “no more sex, not with you anyway”.

“great” jaemin replies. he finally does turn to face you. “so when you say never again are you actually making a definite final decision or are you simply playing hard to get?”

“what do you think?” you retort, you’re two floors away from your destination, the lab reports you’re clutching much vicely resulting in sweaty palms.

jaemin licks his lips, all high and mighty. “i’m sure you don’t want to know what i’m thinking”.

you look up to meet his stare in a singular effort to glare equally as hard, it’s futile. jaemin’s got the eyes of a predator, as if he’ll pounce if you attempt a single move out of this elevator, it’s striking, his eyes trail all the way up from your terribly expensive shoes and up your body, stopping at your mouth.

he seems pleased with himself, tipping his head forward when the elevator dings at your floor.

you allow a squint, briskly leaving him behind. it’s only three steps out of the elevator that you realize you left him without an answer, therefore leaving him with the last word, but you conclude you’ve walked too far to shout, yet it seems jaemin has no qualms.

“you know where to find me!” he calls.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 3: good sex is addicting! healthy? eh..

naturally it happens again..

and again,

and once again.

if you were in a better place of mind, perhaps if you didn’t contain loads of work on your shoulder and slumped with courses of continuous caffeine, you’d find the right mind to chide yourself for making such a stupid decision, but you’re simply a selfish and desperate man. this is like— the best sex you’ve had since undergrad, not that there were many good examples to be the judge of that one anyway (with little offense given to shotaro, he’s a sweetheart but you two barely ever got it on as it is).

the thing is, you’re beginning to have a little fun with it. sure, you’d felt as if you were betraying yourself after the second or third time but it’s now become its own little adventure. sneaking around and whispering in the hallways in tandem with disappearing into random storage closests is fun.

jaemin is merely jaemin when it’s all over, barbed wire esqe jaemin with a personality you’d liken to some miserable children’s movie villain.

but it works, it isn’t as if you’re doing this because jaemin has a to die for personality, you’re doing it because you’re stressed, despite the fact that he is probably the main contributor of such stress, he at least helps you relieve that stress.

“somethings up with you,” jeno makes apparent when he walks past the couch, casual, conversational.

droning on the television is some nature documentary you don’t recall turning on, acting as background noise as you observe the surgery dr. kim assigned you. you technically aren’t allowed to bring your work home but you’ve also always enjoyed poking holes into rules, you bring your teeth down on a goldfish cracker that you’ve had between your fingers for about five minutes.

“what?” you finally reply.

“you seem different” jeno rewords graciously. “brighter, less.. porcupine-y”.

“i can be mean if you want,” you decide. “you want that puppy?”

jeno turns red, continuous head shaking as he clears his throat. “i just meant— i don’t know, you seem a little less miserable than before, not all grouchy, i’m happy for you”.

“pfft— thanks, always knew you loved me nono”.

his chagrin at such a nickname manifests in his much particular nose scrunch, his arms folding over his chest stubbornly. “don’t call me that.. so anyway, what changed?”

“hm?”

he leans over the couch, staring you down suspiciously, unnaturally nosy. “you can’t just decide to not be miserable overnight, what happened?”

you tilt your head up at him. “i’m getting to scrub in on proper surgeries, and i’m getting laid!”

jeno appears surprised, though gladdened anyway. “oh really? so who’s the guy then?”

you squint at him. “chenle put you up to this?”

“what?” he seems taken aback, but equally completely caught. “no?”

you open your mouth to rebut that clear lie, yet you’re both interrupted by lee donghyuck barreling into the room, looking too good for a regular saturday night, fancy overcoat draped over his arm that he definitely stole from renjun.

“stop looking at me and help me put this on” he motions towards his empty wrist and a fancy looking bracelet.

jeno simply whistles lowly.

“where are you going dressed up like this?” you inquire in the manner of a scrutinizing parent. “you got a date?” you don’t miss his avoidance of eye contact once you actually fasten the thing around his wrist.

“..yes”,

jeno applauds happily, much too excited, as if he were the one going on a date.

“give us a spin” you chide.

“seriously?”

both you and jeno nod in unison.

donghyuck begrudgingly obliges.

“you look good” jeno states.

“very good” you ruffle his hair irritatingly, and he hisses as he bats your hand away, muttering his small thanks. “have fun!”

you make sure to blow him a kiss on his way out, donghyuck makes sure to slam the door on his way out.

jeno then turns to you. “can i guess your guy’s name?”

“no!”

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 4: secrets out eventually!!

you suppose you had to eventually tell your friends at some point, of course that would include admitting zhong chenle is right and that sucks the life out of you for a much identifiable reason. the other three are bound to find out about jaemin soon enough, because whilst you’ve never been a talker, it’s getting annoying to do the constant walk of shame to jaemin’s apartment.

“i’m really trying to understand what your problem with me is” jaemin grins, all teeth, perfectly straight purely white fucking teeth. you’re back in the closet again, you can’t help but surmise that there’s a joke in there somewhere.

“i thought you didn’t care?”

“i don’t, it’s simply so cute how you get angry, kinda turns me on”.

you decide to ignore that one, wiping your mouth over with the back of your hand. you then focus on getting your shirt back to its original, somewhat normal looking form, god you’re so reckless.

“i’m just saying.. if you put effort into actually getting to know me we’d actually be pretty good— fuck ow!” he winces in the manner of a kicked puppy, all because you twisted a piece of skin between your fingers.

“i’m not interested in getting to know you, thought i made that clear” you voice.

“only thing you’ve made clear is that you believe it’s your god given right to hate me since no one else does”.

“oh you make me feel so special, i’m sure there’s someone else in this world who hates you as much as i do”.

“sure y/n” jaemin begins, “i find it hard to believe you actually do hate me” he nips at your ear, you really shouldn’t let jaemin kiss your neck, but you don’t push him off, he’d throw a hissy fit.

just as his hand begins venturing downward the closest door creaks open, and you two jump apart as if you’ve been caught, standing in the doorway is none other than lee donghyuck.

“what the fuck?” he whispers, quickly closing the door behind him. when he steps into the dingy white light, you notice the wet tears against his eyelashes, everything else is erased from your mind.

“hey” you begin, voice soft. “what’s wrong? did something happen?” you smooth over your scrubs.

“nothing” his voice gives it away. “we can’t cry mid shift anymore?”

no, but donghyuck hasn’t cried over a patient in a while, that’s typically your prerogative.

“it’s wonil” he sniffs. “stupid fucking kim wonil,” he sits down on an upturned bucket, once you kneel beside him, he pulls you into a hug to bury his tear streaked face against your neck. “i’m gonna have to change my name and transfer to gwangju instead!”

you look over donghyuck’s trembling shoulder at jaemin, who appears just as clueless as you are. he instead opts to patting the small of his back in support, rubbing soothing strokes. “could i have some elaboration, babe?”

“he used me” he says, holding onto his sobs. “took me on a stupid fucking fancy date and then i caught him with mark lee— oh my god, he.. he lied to me, he said they broke it off months ago but that obviously wasn’t true and he kept scrubbing in on the important surgeries, i thought he— we were going out for months and i just, fuck i feel awful y/n”.

well that’s.. not what you expected to hear at all. your head spins.

“wait— wonil? that’s who?”

“can we not talk about that part right now?” he simply allows for the tears to free fall, you attempt to wipe them as best you can.

sure, it’s nothing.

“did he tell you? how’d you even find this out?”

“no he didn’t i saw them” he covers his face with his own hands, distraught. “and he didn’t even care..”

“then none of it is your fault” you assure, patting the side of his arms. “he’s an asshole”.

it doesn’t quell donghyuck enough, his shoulders continuously quivering. “i had a bad feeling, i really should’ve known better—“

“he’s a cheat, he should know better, don’t beat yourself up over this”.

“i fucking loved him y/n” he rests his head onto your shoulder, something twisted and horrible lodged in his throat, tears endless.

~

it’s raining because of course it’s raining.

“it’s storming pretty bad” jaemin quips, conversationally. “do you not want me to call you a ride?”

you simply allow a small breath to escape your lips, hair tousled as you slip your jacket on through your arms. “nah, the bus works just fine” you say, wiping your hands on your pants despite your much irritation.

“and i’m guessing you don’t want to wait until it’s let up either?”

“i have to get home cause jeno’s working late and— hyuck’s alone, don’t want him to be..” you mutter, glancing down at your watch as you crinkle your nose at the time. “he’s been baking since the whole wonil thing happened, need to make sure he doesn’t burn down the apartment”.

jaemin doesn’t have to put anymore work into convincing you. “alright, have fun”.

you do the typical before leaving checkup, you have your keys, your phone, cash, and a bus pass, good. it’s silent, awkward, not much of a regular conversation when he isn’t bending you over a table.

but there’s something you really need to know.

“hey jaemin?”

“hm?” he doesn’t look up from his phone.

“should we talk about.. this?”

“well talking about it makes it weird”.

you consider your next words very carefully. “i’m lonely, you know”.

jaemin then puts his phone down. “i’m lost”.

you’re unaware of why exactly you feel the need to divulge context about whatever your relationship happens to be, you keep thinking back to donghyuck and you remember the liabilities caused by workplace relationships. you’re afraid you can’t stomach another complicated relationship, situations that wrap around your head in a nauseating fashion. not that jaemin is boyfriend material or anything but—

“the first time we hooked up? in the on-call room? i did it because i just got off a bad breakup and i was stressed and.. you were my first option”.

jaemin remains frozen in his place, gaze pointed, chest perfectly accentuated in his shir— stop looking there y/n. “what i’m trying to say is that i was desperate and it’s important you know that because—“

“get to the point”.

“i don’t want this to.. you know, be more than what it is, like.. domestic and shit”.

“oh jesus, okay y/n” he pinches the bridge of his nose, as if you irritated him. “you’re asking me not to fall in love with you right? you could’ve just said that then”.

“it sounds stupid”.

“and your other option sounded better?”

“whatever, i’m going, good talk”.

“great talk”.

“stop trying to get the last word in”.

“i’m not trying to do anything”.

“goodnight”.

“don’t say things you don’t mean”.

“fine, i hope you have a terrible one, i hope your roof catches on fire and you sleep through it and it all comes crashing onto you so your death is all slow and painful, happy?”

jaemin smiles, waving you off with each of his fingers as you storm out of the door, into the pouring rain, slamming it shut behind you.

you take a short walk and an even shorter bus ride home, yet when you enter your apartment you’re absolutely drenched.

the whole house smells of sugar and semi-baked sweets, it almost reminds you of home, back when you’d fuck shit up with your sisters in the kitchen. the now added on pain is the continuous ringing of the fire alarm, donghyuck standing at the counter fanning smoke with an empty box of brownie mix.

you sigh as you kick off your shoes.

“what the hell did you do?”

“i have it under control” donghyuck whines.

“hyuck—“

“don’t step any closer” he threatens, butter knife in hand.

your hands raise in mock surrender, a flat look sent his way. “you’re being ridiculous”.

“sorry” he puts the knife down, breathing labored. “help me?”

you two sit down on the kitchen floor and have brownies and ice cream for dinner, an ironic feat for a pair of medical professionals, but this is simply one of those things licensed under free will you have as an adult, the kind of thing that makes you think maybe parental supervision is a good need. besides, sugar is good for heartbreak.

“i don’t wanna go to work tomorrow” donghyuck mutters, beginning to consistently tap his head onto the counter, as if attempting to bash his brains out. “this is so stupid”.

“it’ll be fine, i’m sure no one will question you up front”.

he glances upward. “my former sort of boyfriend is fucking the most popular attending neurosurgeon, and people think i was homewrecking whatever the hell they have going, you think people just forget that?”

you lick your spoon clean. “yeah it’s not looking good,” you admit, scratching the back of your head. “but i’m here to help you through it, and samoyed will be there to bark at anyone who looks at you funny”.

donghyuck gives a weak laugh and leans his head onto your shoulder. “yeah yeah, whatever..”

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 5: fuck the domestics, fuck na jaemin.

of course because the universe has a really good sense of humor, mark lee and kim wonil are the first people you and donghyuck see when the elevator dings on the first floor. wonil looks at a loss for words, you’d pride him on such amusement if you weren’t looking to cause him bodily harm.

“uh” mark starts.

“we’re taking the stairs” and since you’re a good friend you do not complain when donghyuck drags you up four flights of stairs.

in his valiant efforts to stay away from neuro, donghyuck gets assigned to obstetrics for the day, whilst you end up back with dr. kim in cardio, which is always a simultaneous blessing and curse. the patient you’re seeing—kiara— has been going back and forth on getting the surgery for a while, and doyoung seemed more than relieved when you showed up with those signed consent forms.

you worked your ass off to get onto this case. you stayed up late all night reading into the procedure, designing a diagram which detailed the surgical process despite the fact that you wouldn’t be carrying it out yourself. observing a complex surgery like this is a rarity for interns, so you intend to soak up every bit of knowledge you can.

so, by design, you’re also standing beside the operating table when her pulse dips, her clutched hand falling dormant in your hold. after the frenzy of orders getting called out and defibrillators charging, there’s nothing but the long, insistent beep of a flatline.

dr. kim calls out the time of death.

realistically, nothing could have been done. she’d waited too long to take the surgery, her vascular walls were weak. it was the best surgeons in the room, and if they couldn’t save her then maybe it was just her time.

you break down in the tunnel despite all of that, you’re sitting on one of the beds against the wall, aware of your own ridiculousness, yet allowing for the tears to brim up anyway.

the only reason kiara was terrified of getting that surgery was because she was afraid of dying on that table, she was scared of dying, and you’d held her hand while they put her under, promising she’d be okay.

that was the mistake.

patient outcomes are never promised, and as much as they remind you, as much as you’re aware that this is in your line of work, death just so happens to spring up on you instantaneously, you can never really fully prepare for it.

“she was going to die anyway” you don’t have to glance up to meet the face behind the voice, simply acquainted with the sight of jaemin’s shoes.

“i know”.

“so why are you sitting here feeling sorry for yourself?”

you sigh, massaging a finger to your temple, your head hurts, it all hurts. “go away” another sob pushes itself up out of your chest, another sniffle, more snot.

but would na jaemin ever genuinely listen to an order? absolutely not. he did not go away, he stepped closer, a hand gracing your shoulder.

your own shoulders slump, you’re completely and utterly disappointed in yourself.

“i don’t need you to say anything,” he breathes. “i’m just telling you that it’s okay..”

“it’s not okay” you seethe. “would you have made the same mistake? would you be in my position if it was you?”

you take everything too personal, you need to start thinking like a surgeon, there’s no room for sensitivity in a field like this, dr. kim had said. he made you break the news to her family, have to watch the washed over expressions and the chorus of sobbing as you attempted to contain your own.

“well i wouldn’t have gotten attached..”

and it sounds so condescending, lowly, superiority reigned over your head. you’ve had a terrible day, and all you can do is sob in your own pity as jaemin just stands there.

it’s so easy to get swallowed up in your pride, tout your pigheadedness in front of jaemin on a regular front with spouted curses and illusions high. you suppose jaemin doesn’t have the best standards for you, you didn’t even do anything, but the fashion of your personality you’d displayed was enough of a case.

“y/n” jaemin calls, soft, you almost don’t hear him. the mattress dips with his added pressure, a hand coming to touch the side of your face, fingertips cold as they tuck strands of your hair behind your ear. jaemin’s hands are always cold. “y/n, hey”.

you don’t respond, can’t do anything but let jaemin pull you against his chest. it’s an odd feeling because it’s the thing you needed from the last person you expected to give it to you. you exhale shakily, closing your eyes and reveling in the prospect of being held.

“you suck at this” you sob, on principle of course.

“hush” jaemin murmurs. he rests his chin atop your head, and he says nothing more, doesn’t even pull away either. you cry until you have no more left to give, your shift isn’t quite over yet, you have charts to finish and labs to read over. you push at jaemin to let you go.

“m’fine” you sniffle, posture straightening as you wiped the tears from your cheeks. you feel reckless, embarrassed, like a child. your face is burning hot, but at least you feel better. jaemin is staring, as if he’s experiencing a certain thing for the first time.

you look away.

“i’m fine” you repeat. “don’t look at me like that”.

jaemin clears his throat as if snapping out of an episode. “i know you don’t care for my opinion, but i think you’re doing great”.

“you what..?”

jaemin nods, doesn’t elaborate on any of it, it’s awkward.

your pager beeps, and once you glance down at the location, you silently curse at the location being half across the hospital.

“right, um thank you, i guess i’ll.. uh, see you later?”

“you know where to find me”.

jeno seeks you out first once your shift is over, apprehensive as always.

“you okay? i heard what happened..”

“yeah m’fine” you pause before the doors to allow jeno to catch you, donghyuck and renjun won’t be done for another hour, and it’s once again pouring outside. “i just need to shower and sleep for fifty hours”.

jeno is already looking at you when you glance over. you’ve heard your fair share of stories concerning surgical failures, much too close to one when in your childhood, but experiencing one firsthand just really took it all out of you.

“i’m going to get better at this surgeon thing right? i have to?” you ask.

“you will” jeno replies, silent. he links your fingers together, a warm feeling. he then nudges you, the slightest bit of comfort in the affection laced gesture. “we both will”.

~

there’s a small switch flip after that.

jaemin remains jaemin. perfectly polished jaemin, hardened in the face of death, all precise and unphased, yet you lay your heart bare for it all, fortitude at the forefront of your emotions.

occasionally, you find yourself looking over at jaemin when he’s too engrossed in his work or conversation to notice.

when you observe him, you attempt to figure out where the fortitude of his beating organ lies. it appears jaemin acts in kindness when he thinks no one else is looking. you wonder if that’s a true display or if that’s simply another mask he wears around for the hell of it, getting into the sweet spots of littler kids is a spectacular move. then again, it takes a special kind of evil to be mean to kids. sure, jaemin’s a bit of an asshole, but he isn’t all bloods evil.

that isn’t such a hard concept to grasp.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 6: running out of terrifically timed titles

the tumultuous disarray of your life provides solace, somewhat regular sex escapades with jaemin continue and donghyuck is often too tipsy once you get home from your shifts later in the week. you surmise he’s simply coping with his situation in manners he’s accustomed to, though both you and jeno would love to chide him for the unhealthiness, you two also can’t talk, ever since you found that unlimited espresso machine in the second floor cafeteria, it’s basically become your life source. jeno will scold you for that one when he eventually finds out, though it’s good to know jungwoo doesn’t mind, simply passing you with mild apprehension whenever you go grab another cup.

you guess you can’t talk about anything, but you also can’t help worrying about your friend.

“l/n, did you follow up on those scans i asked for?” dr. kim unabashedly ambushes you whilst you’re in the middle of a good speed powered walk, files almost tumbling out of your bundled arms.

“uh— yes, they redid them so they aren’t blurry, and i also put in that psych eval you requested, i have all of them here”.

“nice work, will you be available to scrub in tomorrow morning?”

you blink at him, baffled. “i— oh my god yes, thank you um..” you honestly didn’t expect that one after the prior incident with kiara. you assumed for sure doyoung would stand between you and the O.R for a couple of months.

“is there a reason you’re still standing in front of me?”

you blush, embarrassed. “i’m sorry i just.. i know you don’t think i’m cut out for this so I’m unsure of why you chose me”.

for a slim moment, there’s genuine in doyoung’s eyes. “well i’ll have you know opinions can change, will you move out of my way now”.

you pause. “of course, sorry, thank you, i appreciate it”.

“you’d better” he beams, placing yet another stack in your arms. “could you drop these off at the nurses station for me?”

you make your way back downstairs, still reeling from the previous words said to your face, when you hear a familiar voice.

“is dr l/n here? well, no— he’s an intern”.

you look up from the nurses station immediately, catching a glimpse of osaki shotaro’s identifiable tuft of hair, golden blonde, still dyed. he hasn’t changed since you last saw him, well you suppose a few months really don’t provide anything substantial in the area of change.

“taro?”

when he glances up, he breaks into one of his bright smiles and he parts (hyperbole) the hallway to get to you. “y/n, hey, hi”.

“what— what are you doing here? is everything okay? is your mom oka—“

“i’m fine, everyone’s fine it’s just.. i mean— i don’t know actually i was just nearby and i wanted to see you? i know i’m the one who broke up with you and all but i was sure there was a high chance you’d be here instead of.. well anywhere else”.

“yeah” you laugh. “yeah that is true”.

“it’s nice to see you” he fiddles with his bracelet, reaching over to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, a natural habit, you grab onto his wrist before his fingers can grace your skin. shotaro pauses for a moment, cheeks colored pink in embarrassment as he slips from your hold.

“sorry— i um.. can we just talk actually?”

your face warms rather quickly. “uh..”

“oh hello” jaemin appears—literally out of nowhere—“are you here for a patient?”

“no actually he was just leaving—“

“i’m shotaro” he tilts his head to read jaemin’s id card. “you’re.. dr na?” he extends his hand for a handshake, jaemin ignores it. you almost want to tell him off for such a thing.

“yes, you must be the boyfriend”.

“ex boyfriend” you both say.

jaemin inhales a bated breath, handing you a stack of files. “jungwoo said to give these to you, the chief needs all the records manually inputted before you get off your shift today”.

“but—“

“we’re all splitting work, that’s your stack and this is mine”.

“i’m supposed to be having lunch” you frown.

jaemin shrugs, nothing of helpful. “do them after, i don’t care, i’m just the messenger”.

“it was nice meeting you”.

“sure” jaemin flashes a noncommittal smile, then, as quick as he came, he’s gone.

“is he always like that?” shotaro inquires, you sigh, much loudly.

“yeah, kind of, at first glance..”

“so lunch! can i treat you?”

you chuckle. “well i can’t leave so i hope you don’t mind hospital food”.

it’s (surprisingly) a very enjoyable experience for you.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 7: coupling 1000

on tuesday, lee jeno walks into the locker room looking slightly askew, yet completely elated, brightened in some unusual fashion.

you let out a low whistle. “now what the fuck has you so happy?”

“nothing”.

“is it a guy?”

“no!” jeno refutes, the bright red hue paired with the shrill squeaked ‘no’ do naught for his argument. “it’s not that”.

“you have that after guy glow”.

“you’re insane”.

“he’s right though” jaemin wraps an inviting arm around his shoulder, jeno full on pouts. “you look awfully stunning this morning, jeno”.

“fuck?”

“you’re okay”.

“damn, why’s it feel like every intern in this hospital is getting some but me?” donghyuck grouches, you instantly share a look with renjun.

at the inevitable silence, donghyuck groans again. “don’t answer that”.

“yeah cause you’d only be told the obvio—“

“good morning~” kim jungwoo sings, much too delighted for the time of day. “glad to see all of you interns actually in on time, l/n and na you’ll be helping mark prep his patient, zhong and lee one you’ll be in the pit, and.. huang and lee two on charts, any complaints? wonderful! get going!”

mark lee has the discontented mannerisms of a teenage boy, awkward stutters and all, you often neglect to recall that he’s a revered surgeon prided for performing some of the best brain operations in the country, technically your boss.

you haven’t spent much time around him, you actively avoid kim wonil for the sake of donghyuck’s (and your own) sanity, looking into the eyes of mark lee, he appears bashful, shyly boyish in a manner akin to a formerly stranger lee jeno.

“guess he’s still avoidant”.

you snort, jaemin sucks his teeth, you then sigh with your tongue prodding at the side of your cheek. “well he can’t look at you without thinking about..”

now that you think about it, you’ve never really had a conversation with kim wonil, what’s even with the guy?

“oh” his face drops in that distinct kicked puppy fashion, you merely sigh.

“just give him space, okay? he’ll surely come around”.

“space.. really?”

“space is good” jaemin chimes in. “and either way he’s not your intern, we are, can we go now?”

he’s always been ever so impatient.

~

yang jungwon is a twenty year old college student with a tumor pressing down on his frontal temporal lobe. “it’s affecting his impulse control,” mark warns. “so if he says something a bit forward, that’s why”.

“forward?” you question.

when mark, you and jaemin walk into jungwon’s room, his mother is sitting beside his bed, smoothing over his sheets with her hands. mark bids them good morning and introduces you two as the interns which will be overseeing the surgery, the first thing jungwon says is:

“jesus you all are hot, is that requirement here? why are you all so hot? are there more of you?”

“jungwon” his mother softly chides.

forward, you hum, jaemin only makes an agreeing noise beside you.

“sorry, was that rude? i’m very sorry”.

“he’s usually shy” his mother explains. “he doesn’t mean to be offensive”.

“no offense taken ma’am, that’s probably the nicest thing a patient has said to us in a while” mark replies. “how are you feeling won?”

“my mom’s nervous so now i’m nervous and the food here sucks by the way, i don’t really wanna have brain surgery but i have to be optimistic so yay!”

“that’s the spirit!” mark cheers. “okay, dr. l/n here is gonna run a couple of tests to make sure everything is okay, dr. na will handle all the paperwork, if you still want to proceed i can have you scheduled for O.R two bright and early tomorrow morning, i’ll make sure everything goes smoothly for you okay?”

“can i get snacks from the vending machine to make it go smoother?”

“i’ll do it” his mother offers. “don’t give dr. l/n a hard time, okay?”

mark leaves with jaemin and mrs. yang to grab snacks and necessary consent forms, you begin putting on your gloves to give jungwon a routine examination.

“dr. l/n can i ask you a question?” jungwon asks.

you remove the stethoscope from your ears, giving him a small smile. “go ahead, i’m all ears”.

“well it’s more of a personal question” he twiddles his thumbs, smile stretched widely as he tilts his head towards you. “are you two like.. together?”

“me and who?”

“the other, other hot doctor with all the teeth, the one who was in here just now”.

“me and.. na?”

“yeah, is he your boyfriend? he was looking like he wanted to eat you, i was honestly getting worried by how intense he was staring”.

that shocks a fit of laughter out of you. “no no, he wasn’t—he’s.. he’s not my boyfriend”.

“oh okay, well if nobody’s told you yet then i’m a hundred percent sure he wants to jump your bones, and also be your boyfriend”.

you clear your throat, flustered by jungwon’s sense of earnesty. “we’re not together, just coworkers”.

“do you have a boyfriend?”

you sigh and lean forward, pressing two fingers on either side of his neck to feel for a carotid pulse. “you’ve said the word boyfriend an awful lot in these past few minutes,” you pause. “no i don’t”.

“okay” jungwon says. “this is going to sound a bit presumptuous, but if i survive the surgery, will you go out with me?”

you skillfully sidestep such a question. “that’s not presumptuous, dr. lee is one of the best brain surgeons in the country, he’s going to make sure you come out just fine, your most likely outcome is positive”.

jungwon stops, blinking up at you, galaxies in his pupils. “i think we might be soulmates”.

“yang jungwon”.

“that’s me”.

“you’re cute, and sweet, and funny— but i absolutely cannot go out with you”.

“is it the brain damage thing? i’ve been told that’s a dealbreaker”.

“don’t be cheeky, how old are you again? twenty?”

“twenty going on twenty five”.

you laugh. “you have your whole life ahead of you to find a soulmate, people don’t really have a good time dating me, you’ll be dodging a bullet”.

“what, why not?”

“won—can i call you won?”

“you can call me anything you want..”

“won” you stress, “i spend about eighty hours a week in this hospital, i barely have time to eat or sleep or even think about anything that doesn’t include cutting someone open, my last boyfriend dumped me for that reason, i couldn’t do that again, and i definitely don’t think you want to”.

“ah i see” jungwon says, he’s silent for a while before he asks: “you’re saying it would make sense for you to date someone who works as much as you do, like another doctor, right?”

“well that wasn’t the point but i guess that makes sense then”.

jungwon smiles as if he’s figured out something. “so do you like dr. na then?”

“dr. na is standing right there” jaemin chimes in. you two both turn to see him standing in the doorway, “i have consent forms, i already went over the procedure with your mom, i’m aware mark probably covered it with you, but if it would make you more comfortable i could go over it with you myself”.

both you and jungwon stare at him.

“what?”

“is he always like this?”

you smile in his direction, giggling as you ruffle his hair. “yeah”.

“didn’t peg you as the type to flirt with patients” jaemin utters later in the nurse station whilst you two idle around in feigned ignorance as if you don’t have mountains of work weighing on your shoulders. jungwon had personally asked for you to scrub in on his surgery, and it’s clear jaemin was just the slightest bit envious, you would be too if in his shoes. mark’s surgeries are always the most fun to watch.

“i wasn’t flirting, he was simply asking invasive questions so i entertained him, he’s a nice kid, it’s called having good bedside manners”.

“are you saying i don’t have good bedside manner?”

“your words, not mine”.

“i don’t care, you were definitely flirting back”.

“i thought you didn’t care?”

“i don’t”.

“well there’s your answer”.

jungwon comes out just fine, you and jaemin however, you take a while to recover.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 8: well i guess he’s fine..

at the end of the week you typically only prefer to gorge on the junk food remained tucked in your refrigerator and embrace the warmth of your bed, but everybody knows you don’t always get the things you want, especially you in your kicked rock of a life.

“are you ready?” renjun bounces on his heels, changed out of his scrubs already, breathing down your neck in an effort to fasten your process of changing.

“what are you all doing tonight?” jaemin inquires, suddenly nosy.

“well i wanted to go home to eat ice cream then sleep all night, but since it’s the last wednesday of the month and we have tomorrow off renjun wants to go do karaoke at the local bar”.

“it’s kind of our tradition!” jeno offers, he’s sat down on one of the benches, lacing up his dunks. “you should come with us, drinks are half off until midnight”.

“you should come! it’ll be so fun, y/n has the voice of an angel”.

your cheeks color red in embarrassment. “well actually—“

“stop trying to be humble now, just admit it” renjun then turns to jaemin. “please? you literally never hang out with us”.

you can’t see renjun’s face, but you know he’s using that pleading puppy look to sell his point.

you watch jaemin crumble in real time.

“alright, guess it couldn’t hurt”.

what hurts is your throat after demolishing a flurry of early 2000s hits. now your ears are beginning to pain as renjun, donghyuck and chenle go head to head, they’ve rapped to super bass three times in a row, and donghyuck continuously doubles over in laughter whenever chenle messes up a single lyric. you aren’t complaining though, this is about the happiest you’ve seen donghyuck in the week, it makes you feel all warm seeing him laughing and all full of bashful insults.

jaemin has been nursing the same beer since you’ve arrived, tucked away on the couch in an effort to not participate in such nonsense. it dawns on you that you normally don’t hang out with him outside of the hospital much, and you wonder if he even has friends outside the hospital.

before you stop yourself, you’re wriggling out of jeno’s lap and making your way over to jaemin. he looks over when you get close, eyes traveling from the loose neckline of your shirt to your face.

“hiii”, you greet.

“hello, you’re drunk”.

“just a little” you giggle, hiccuping on nothing. “you look all moody and broody in the shadows, are you not having fun?”

“i am, you guys are just..” jaemin pauses, again glancing back at the scene before seemingly taking back a few words. “i am”.

you hum, whistling in the air. “i need some fresh air, come with me?”

jaemin nods, following behind you in the manner of a shadow out of the establishment. you two end up sitting on the sidewalk, chilling air offering you solace as you attempt to sober up.

it’s chillier than it was before, but you bask in the cold instead, short sleeves acting as nothing of a barrier.

“that was quite the performance back there” jaemin says quietly.

“thank you, yeah i can’t compare to donghyuck but singing is.. you know, just a hobby”.

you shiver offhandedly, jaemin observes for a while before offering you over his jacket, caging it around you in his lingering warmth. you yearn to comment on it, he practically dares you to, so you take it in silence.

“you know what would be amazing? a hot spicy bowl of kimchi jjigae”.

it’s been a while since you’ve been able to cook a genuine meal, the shifts take it all out of you and turning on any kitchen appliances gives you anxiety after a long shift. eating is a whole shove and go sort of a thing, you don’t pay much mind to it anymore. “now why would you put that in my head? i’m hungry” you whine.

“i know a good spot near the hospital, their stuff is like home”.

you ignore the mention of home.

“you’re just making it worse”.

“sorry” jaemin is not sorry. “maybe we can go together after work sometimes”.

“oh, like with the other interns? that’d be nice..”

jaemin looks caught, he swallows down nothing. “no i mean.. just us”.

you freeze. “oh”.

“what? having sex with me is okay but dinner is completely out of the question?”

“no” you reply defensively. “it’s just— us, you know? we can’t even go a few words without arguing, we don’t do dinner, the only thing we have in common is that we’re stuck up surgeons, we don’t do dinner”.

jaemin presses his lips into a flat line, the kind of thing he does when he’s looking for something nice to say. “we’re friends”.

you almost lurch forward, perhaps drinking was not a good idea. you blink, completely knowing of your upcoming decision.

“you know what? yeah, let’s get dinner”.

“right now?”

“no time like the present!” you shout, holding your hand out for jaemin as you rise from the sidewalk. he takes it, intertwining your fingers as you haul him off the ground,

“what about the others?”

“they’ll be fine” you excuse. “come on”.

you realize belatedly that it’s about midnight, which means most, if not all restaurants serving kimchi jjigae are closed. you two end up at the popular twenty four hour ramen spot instead, and you take time to sober up as you two wait in line. hanging off jaemin’s arm, you simply allow your head to lean against his shoulder, the other making no room for little complaints, you’ll regret being all clingy in the morning, but for now, it’s all up in the air. the waitress who seats you eyes you in that knowing way, she thinks you two are a couple, you decide to not correct her, there’s no benefit, she ensures a comment about how cute you two are.

“first thing i want to do after getting my license is..” jaemin begins. “treat the uppers at one of these places, like a celebratory dinner”.

“ramen for surgeons?”

“basically”.

you hum, tongue hot, all warm. “you wanna split this with me?” you inquire, referring to the takoyaki before you on a plate.

“can you even eat all that?” jaemin poses, clicking his tongue as he eyes the spread of appetizers. you aren’t a quitter, especially after a week of subpar meals you didn’t even bother turning on the stove to create. you raise your plate in his direction, offering a takoyaki ball which he takes a stab at.

“have you always wanted to be a surgeon?”

jaemin sighs. “we don’t have to do this”.

“do what?”

“the thing where we ask each other questions and pretend to care about the answers”.

“i do care” you press. “aren’t we friends? answer the question, minjae”.

“is that supposed to be a nickname?” jaemin grumbles. you’ve always had a knack for nicknames, jeno your main victim. “it sucks”.

“answer the question”.

he sighs again, but this time he’s smiling. “i mean, guess i always had the feeling, i was obsessed with that surgeon game when i was younger, i would sneak into my dad’s office and read up on all of his procedures, i read a lot of his stupid textbooks and was hooked forever”.

“oh”.

“yeah”.

“well it probably helped your family’s full of doctors huh?”

he pauses. “not really”.

you stop for a moment. “your dad is na kiwoo, he’s crazy good at his shit, he invented a whole new way to transplant bone marrow! your uncle is literally the chief of surgery at the hospital we intern at!”

you probably appear nerdy, you scratch the back of your ear, somewhat embarrassed. jaemin stares, clearing his throat. “my parents didn’t want me to become a surgeon”.

you are absolutely gobsmacked, jaemin goes through the effort of physically putting your jaw back in its place. “seriously?”

“absolutely, they did everything to make sure i wouldn’t get into the medical field, wanted me to get some bullshit sports scholarship, they refused to pay my tuition and basically said i ruined their dreams of having an olympian son so i went no contact”.

you scoff. “god”.

“right” he grins, though there’s little genuine. “i tried so hard to get into any program that didn’t have to do with guleum but look where i ended up”.

you blink as you attempt to process the influx of information. “but you’re destined for greatness— you’re your parents’ legacy”.

he dismissively waves. “it would be great if they cared, they have their noses buried in their work, can’t believe they thought i wouldn’t take it personal”.

“you’re still mad?”

“what do you think?”

and then he chuckles. you deliver a small smack to his shoulder, along the lines of an affectionate gesture. “they’re dickheads, you’re gonna be one of the best surgeons in the world, besides me”.

jaemin is now the one who’s surprised. “did you just compliment me?”

“hm.. think you’re hearing things”.

“sure” he stops. “so what about you, then? what got you into this program?”

your nose scrunches. “my sister, she always had complications growing up but she had to get a lobectomy when she was young because she had a tumor, after that she couldn’t talk for a while, we spent a lot of time at the hospital so that’s where the interest came from”.

“i didn’t know you had a sister”.

well you didn’t exactly care. “i have three, never a moment of peace”.

“oh i bet”.

your expression falters for a moment. “dad and mom didn’t want me to, get into the medical field that is, they thought i couldn’t do it, said it was a future depicted in failure and that i’d quit at the first loud shout”.

“you? quit?”

he appears genuinely shocked by such a revelation. “are you surprised?”

“kinda” he mutters, opting to glance directly at you. “you’ve always been so persevering, can’t imagine you quitting anything”.

you shrug. “they weren’t around much, i had to kinda fend for myself with three girls running around”.

“well you did it didn’t you?”

“yeah, all those my little pony reruns and sugar cookies” you muse, shaking your head. “i should not know as much as i do about that show”.

jaemin laughs at that one, and you can’t help the pride which swells in your chest. you belatedly realize that you’re enjoying this conversation, you two haven’t had a petty fight in a while, go figure.

“you aren’t that bad”.

“surprise”.

“so why are you so hellbent on proving it then?”

“preconceived notions go a long way, people hear my last name and think seven thousand different things, it gets tiring trying to prove them wrong, i don’t care anymore”.

but if his voice is anything, then he definitely does still care.

“okay so how exactly do you plan on getting home?” he inquires to you, leftover bags swinging in the light wind.

“the night bus”.

“you don’t drive?”

“i would kill myself” you blurt, and jaemin snorts. “don’t laugh, highways are terrifying, besides, the bus is empty at this time”.

“do they really run now?”

you stare flatly. “of course they do, i memorized the running hours”.

he has half a mind to giggle at that one, you then grab onto jaemin’s hand as you drag him towards the nearest bus stop.

your building lights remain blindingly bright once you finally reach your stop, jaemin following behind you in the fashion he always does.

“you really didn’t have to walk me”.

“i needed to make sure you’re in safely” he emphasizes, as if that makes any sense, he opts for an eye roll to sell the stubborn bit.

“aww, what a gentlemen you are minjae”.

he grumbles at the nickname, though his smile threatens to jump up at every glance.

for the first time since you and jaemin eloped, you take a glance at your watch, shocked at it being half past two already. “don’t you have work today? why didn’t you say anything?”

jaemin shrugs, flatly, very jaemin. “you guys were having fun, my shift’s at noon, it’s fine”.

“okay well, goodnight?”

“goodnight,” jaemin replies, and he leans forward for a peck, it’s short and sweet, by the time he’s done, you realize all too late, cheeks gone red as you instead blink.

“uh” you begin, very intelligent y/n, stellar. “that was.. um—“

“you okay?”

“no! i mean— yes i just, that was nice it was nice..” you exhale, “can i have another one?”

jaemin gives in, cupping your cheeks and drawing you in for another kiss. it shouldn’t go on for as long as it does, but you’re much too embarrassing to admit such a thing, instead you let him do it again, and again, and again, all soft against your lips.

“we probably shouldn’t do that again because..” your lips attempt to twitch up, you try to fasten that sincere expression on your features. “well you know—“

“right, no domestic shit” jaemin smiles, all teeth, so cocky.

you refuse to give him the satisfaction of a smile, turning towards the entrance in order to hide it. “goodnight”.

“goodnight” jaemin lingers for a moment, as if he wants to say something more. however, it appears he changes his mind once you glance back at him, he mirrors your turn back and begins walking off.

it’s not until you put the leftovers away and begin undressing for your shower that you realize you forgot to return him his jacket.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 9: the crush-not-crush phase

jaemin does the friend thing exceptionally well, he relays obscure anecdotes that you giggle at and sneaks in slight jabs when doyoung’s in the middle of an important sentence that has you nudging him in the stomach with your arm.

like right now, he’s droning on about a moment when a nanny almost burned down his parents house whilst trying to cook for him and you’re very much interested, sneaking snorts under your breath.

renjun, jeno and donghyuck all arrive, tapping you on your shoulder, you turn to glance with the slightest confusion.

there isn’t an exchange of words, they simply observe jaemin until he smiles, making up a story about having to go check up on a patient.

they all silently watch him leave.

“why’d you scare him off?” you complain, almost tapering off into whining territory.

“i just want to know what’s up with you two” renjun finally says.

you groan, donghyuck pushes as he takes a seat beside you. “we are not having this conversation again”. 

“is he your friend? your boyfriend? an eight month conquest? your shotaro replacement?”

“why does everyone think we’re dating—“

“i ran into him when he was leaving your room this morning” jeno drawls, flat, irritated in that soft way he always is. “i’m about to ask him to start pitching in on the water bill”.

“he’s not over that often”.

your argument falls flat at donghyuck’s eyebrow raise. “he has been this month, do you like him?”

“okay— i hook up with him a few times doesn’t mean i like him”.

“you two keep sneaking off every time we hang out, you basically made him our new pseudo roommate and you were doing that thing you do when you like someone”.

“what thing?”

“you get all giggly and playfully mean—“ donghyuck tucks his hair behind his ear and flutters his eyelashes, squealing in what you suppose is a high pitched imitation of your voice; “oh jaemin you’re sooo funny!”

you land a punch, neither renjun or jeno reach to stop your action despite donghyuck’s extensive complaints.

“i’m not— it doesn’t matter, how could i like jaemin? he’s a fucking shark, do you not remember what he did to me in my our first month?”

renjun glances around, as if searching around for a better excuse you could tout. “your point?”

“i don’t like him, i’m not dating him, it’s all for sex”.

“how long has this been going on again?”

you wrack your mind for an answer. “we started right after i got dumped so.. around late august?”

“oh my god” donghyuck says, his eyes blown out dramatically. “you’ve been sleeping with na jaemin for THREE MONTHS!?”

you decide to assault him again. “can you not be so loud?”

“and you haven’t killed him yet? ew, you do like him”.

“i don’t— what does—“

“oh you totally do! holy shit, is the dick that good!?”

when you take a liberal pause, renjun immediately crinkles his nose. “don’t actually answer that”.

“i wasn’t going to”.

“you were having sex flashbacks!”

“was not, get over yourself” you snark.

donghyuck looks one mouth opening away from speaking when mark lee suddenly shows up, plopping himself at your table. “is this seat taken?”

“yes!” you and renjun yell in unison.

donghyuck clears his throat. “actually, you were just leaving weren’t you?”

“we were?” you ask dumbly, donghyuck nods, tipping his head towards the door.

oh, you realize what he’s trying to do.

“right” you begin slowly. “just leaving, just going”.

“me too” adds renjun.

“i haven’t finished my sandwich yet..” jeno pouts, and renjun sighs as he grabs ahold of his collar, dragging him away from the lunch table where you’ll leave mark and donghyuck alone. “c’mon, they have something to fix”.

~

when you enter the kitchen the following saturday, donghyuck offers you a mere glance from his book before sighing. “jaemin’s?”

“yep” you pop the p, crouching down as you open the fridge, offering a squint as if your aid will magically appear given your gaze. “are we out of grapes?”

“jeno ate em all, why?”

“nothing, guess i’ll just starve”.

“are you gonna sleep over?”

“i don’t know..”

“sounds close to a yes”.

you glare, donghyuck chuckles.

“practice safe sex youngling!”

you flip him off, he offers you a kiss instead. “sure”.

“enjoy your weekend off!”

you pause before the door and turn back to give him a look, itching to ask a question you’re aware doesn’t have a definite enough answer. “so.. is everything good between you and mark now?”

“i’m working on it” he says, “just working on it”.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 10: blurring the line just a bit

you stumble into jaemin’s room and fall into his bed with your legs tangled. you feel warmth encapsulate you instantly. there’s lightheadedness, as if you’re drunk, intoxicated by the familiar scent of simply jaemin. his hair is in his eyes, yet for a long moment he simply stares. you doubt there’s a definitive way your imperfections could be glimpsed at in the vague orange lamplight, a small frown tugs at your lips.

“what?” you whisper, tentative.

“nothing” jaemin replies, equally silent. “it’s just— you’re just.. you look pretty like this”.

you blank for a moment, brightening yet attempting to shove it downward, reddened. “good, thought you were about to change your mind”.

“hush”.

when jaemin leans down to kiss you it’s soft, and your brain does that stupid malfunction thing once again, you sort of don’t know what to do with it. it’s syrup slow, the way jaemin licks into your mouth and his fingers trail up underneath your shirt, like you two have all the time in the world. you take in a long breath, tugging impatiently at his shirt which acts as a hurdle for you. he chuckles, you feel his smile against your own growing one.

you frown, such an expression heartens jaemin to no end. he’s torturing you, pressing slow soft presses against your soft skin, each press marked by his growing smile as he drags his mouth across each particular edge, exponentially leisure, nothing of vigor and more of attention to specific details. you squirm gradually, jaemin digs the pads of his fingers into your hips to hold you still in place, there’s a gentle edge to it that makes your head spin.

“hey” you tug at jaemin’s hair, and when he glances up at you there’s that huge urge to punch him, or maybe kiss him, do a crazy combination with the grin he’s sporting. “could you— fuck speed it up”.

“don’t you rush me y/n” he drawls, blinking up at you through his terribly beautiful eyelashes. “today is special”.

“it can be special when you get to it”.

“so bossy, maybe you should be in control then”.

despite his clear amusement, lingering insults on his tongue, jaemin again leans down to kiss you. it seems he enjoys that aspect, you don’t let go of his hair, hand on the back of his neck pressing him closer. it’s a good kiss, the slightest bit scary to you. you think you could get used to this, get accustomed to the sight of his dirty blonde hair and his hands pressing into the skin of your hip, possibly leaving marks.

it seems a little scary, but it also seems.. well, it makes you have all those mushy feelings you shouldn’t be having, feelings you’d have a heart attack at having three months ago.

you suppose you are blurring the lines a bit here, teeth ground and face buried into his neck, as if you were attempting to crawl into his skin. jaemin holds you and talks you through it like a lover would, it does terrible things to you, terrible terrible thoughts swirling around in your brain.

in the morning, you awake alone. you lie there for a moment, sunlight peeking through the curtains, then you allow your head to fall once more, taking in a deep breath which inadvertently means you’re smelling jaemin’s pillow. you shake your head instantly at such a thought, it’s really all over for you.

you settle for a moment before finally rising from your place, more of rolling off jaemin’s bed and almost breaking your bones with the fall on the floor.

you go through the motions, brushing your teeth and attempting to fix your hair, eventually just leaving it half done. you then venture into jaemin’s closet, grabbing at a random black hoodie and pulling it over your head.

you hear a commotion, head whipping in the direction of the door. you blink, poking your head out of the bedroom door. “jaemin?”

“i’m fine, it’s all fine! nothings burning down”.

you shuffle your way out of his room, feet mute against his bare floor. jaemin has his back to you, in nothing but a practically see through white shirt. “what’s this?”

“breakfast” he muses, eyes seemingly jumping when he catches a glimpse of you.

you lean over his shoulder, nosy as ever, his face is flat. “what?”

jaemin squints. “do you not like pancakes?”

“what kind of question is that? everyone likes pancakes” you reply, breakfast is one of the most foreign meals to you, you haven’t had an actual real breakfast meal in a startling while. “i thought you didn’t like strawberries”.

“they’re not for me” he says, nose scrunched. he uses a fork to cut up the pieces, getting an equal amount of each ingredient before holding it up to your face. “open up”.

“i know how to use a fork myself, you know”.

“open up”.

you drop your mouth open and allow jaemin to feed you, he observes you eat like a hawk. “good?”

you nod enthusiastically.

jaemin smiles, a real, toothless smile that blossoms alluringly over his features. “alright, eat breakfast, then we can go back to sleep”.

you pause, chewing. “i could’ve helped make breakfast”.

“well i didn’t want to wake you” you’re unaware of when he got closer, you opt to not question it, simply allowing his arms to circle around your waist and for him to kiss you once again. his presses are slow, lazy, warm, his sigh in tandem with him pushing you up against the counter.

“can’t i eat?”

“you look good”.

“my hair looks like shit..” you mumble, in response he ruffles it, which earns a grunt as you attempt to escape his hand by leaning backward. “and you just ruined it again”.

“i didn’t do anything” he’s got that smile on again, the one without his teeth, you found you enjoy capturing glimpses of that one much more than you’d ever gloat. “now eat, lord knows how long it’s been since you’ve had breakfast”.

he makes it up to you by helping you wash your hair in the shower, practically putting you to sleep with his ministrations, hand motions paired with a warm stream of water a dealing blow. he lets you do the same for him, sneaking in kisses between rinses to make your time a bit more difficult, water flicked your way resulting in slight squeaks. you spend the afternoon on the couch, bickering over what to watch before eventually settling on a drama you’d been recommended, cuddling closely, though napping quickly overtakes you. jaemin is heavy against your chest, and when you wake up past sunset, there’s a noticeable cramp in your arm, yet it’s the happiest you’ve felt in years.

~

it’s no wonder things change after that.

you see jaemin in the hallways of the hospital, messy hair paired with eye bags and your heart starts beating erratically. it remains in such fastened motions whenever he sends you a smile at lunch, or when you’re around the rest of your friends and can’t help but just.. stare. your chest warms inexplicably whenever he purposely bumps into you in the locker room or leans against you once he’s worn out, in the manner of a mind reader who knows what exactly such things to do your weak heart.

you’re still hooking up, obviously, but it’s become so ridiculously domestic that you’re unaware of when such lines began blurring.

jaemin brings you coffee, placing it atop the nurses station and patiently awaiting your response, smile akin to a cat bringing their owner a dead rodent as a gift.

you blink at it, then up at him, smiles all high. you recognize the doodles on the cup as from the cafe down the street, yet your mind is still the slightest bit woozy from a frankly terrible three hour sleep. “what’s this?”

“a little pick me up” he replies. “can’t just keep throwing back espresso shots, that’s unhealthy”.

how jaemin even figured that out is something you neglect to mention, you presume he’s some sort of alien mind reader, completely inhumane. you would’ve bitten back with a snarky remark a few months ago, yet it appears your mind is full of gray static now. you shake your head and go back to reading over the patient notes.

“i can’t drink that”.

“it’s your order” he drawls, and your eyes again shoot up.

“what.. uh— shit”.

jaemin pokes at your shoulder, sliding the cup over and encouraging you to take a sip. you’d argue with him, if you could with how he’s staring.

he was right, it is.

“how’d you even..?”

“i have my ways,” he brightens.

“thank you” you whisper.

“it’s nothing” he leans in to dart a kiss to your temple. “take it easy, okay?”

and your world successfully tilts on its own axis, you really need a word for that one.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 11: desperate times desperate looking man

“i feel like i haven’t seen you in ages,” renjun whispers. you’re sneaking into the NICU between patients, like you typically do when swallowed with work. the tiny preemie babies are so cute, they’re simply giving it their all to survive, it encourages you to keep going in the slightest bit. also did you mention they’re absolutely adorable?

“are you finally moving out? are you taking jeno with you? am i free?”

“i’m not leaving, stop trying to divorce me” you say, smacking donghyuck’s shoulder in retaliation to such words. “has jaemin been acting any weird around you?”

“you mean like— weirder than normal?” donghyuck raises an eyebrow, renjun distracted by cooing at the sleeping NICU babies. you always wondered the extent of dreams infants have, constantly intrigued by such a thing.

“no not really” he replies, nudging renjun slightly in an effort to get him back on track. the older startles out of his admiring daze, blinking in your direction.

“jaemin? jaemin’s always been weird, why are you asking?”

“i don’t know he’s acting.. different, i’m a little worried”.

“different how?” renjun does his award winning judgmental gaze, amping up your consciousness.

“well you know how i slept over at his place last weekend—“

“and spared me the ear bleeding noises yes”.

“shut up, this morning he got me coffee before rounds started, he kissed me and told me to take it easy, since when has jaemin cared about that?”

renjun and donghyuck exchange one mere glance before the latter speaks up; “you know what that sounds like? i think you sucked and fucked your way into a relationship”.

“don’t swear in front of the babies!”

“and don’t ever say sucked and fucked again” renjun glares, nose crinkling in disgust.

donghyuck sucks his teeth, though ignoring renjun’s distinct complaint. “seriously y/n, if you can’t see with your huge fucking eyes that jaemin has something for you, that might be a huge problem”.

your arms drop at their sides, readying up some terrible rebuttal when your pager goes off, you immediately sigh once jaemin’s name pops up. “speak of the devil” you muse.

when you walk into the E.R you spot him immediately.

“hey, what’s up?”

“just need you to come look at something for me” he immediately says. “i have a theory, but i need a second opinion”.

a smug smile creeps onto your face. “are you asking me for a consultation right now?”

he rolls his eyes. “don’t act coy, there’s a lady with glitter glue in her ears, you seriously have to see this”.

you let him lead the way.

~

it’s eerily quiet in the intern locker when you walk in to grab your phone, one single being in the room, that of na jaemin, lying back on one of the benches, leg propped up. once he catches sight of you, he sits up.

“hey”.

“hi” you reply.

“out or in?”

“out, apparently i hit my eighty hours for the week, jungwoo cut me off”.

“that sucks, i’m on call tonight”.

“that does suck” you hum, shoving your phone in your bag as you eye the suspicious way his leg is propped up. “what’s up with your leg?”

“nothing, it’s just— my knees a little sore, that’s all”.

you frown slightly. “let me see”.

“you know i’m an adult, right? i can take care of myself”.

“hush” you respond, flatly staring as jaemin sits back on the bench, allowing you to poke at the wrap around his knee.

“it’s an old injury” he says. “it’s supposed to be fully healed but it still troubles me sometimes”.

your mouth drops open in a silent ‘ah’, “speed skating, right”.

“yeah, i was just telling choi about it, i don’t know why everyone is so surprised i used to speed skate”.

“you’ve been telling everyone about your secret past? i don’t feel special anymore, na jaemin” you tease. you sit up on the bench, satisfied jaemin wasn’t lying about wrapping it up properly. you’re supposed to go meet your family after this, but you don’t want to leave jaemin’s side just yet, call it obsession.

“relax” jaemin drawls, giving you a salacious wink. “they all know i only have eyes for you”.

you ignore the heat rising in your ears. jaemin has been much more forward with his advances lately, unabashed, little shame, which reminds you—“everyone thinks we’re dating, you know? you’re fueling the fire”.

“you know i don’t care what people think of me”.

liar.

“well i care” you answer. “about us, about.. uh— well, people always talk, you know? makes me anxious”.

“you sure you want me to stop flirting with you? really?”

“yes” you have an airy undertone lacing your voice, eyes sliding towards jaemin’s mouth, you realize lately that all you want to do is kiss him. you’re about fully prepared to when your phone buzzes in your pocket.

“you got somewhere to be?”

you shoot off a text to your younger sister to assure her that you will indeed not be late. you meet jaemin’s eyes and hesitate for a moment, though you’re unsure of why. “yes actually i have a reunion, well— not exactly a reunion but my parents want me to come home for some reason, probably gonna try to set me back up with my ex like they do every single time..”

there’s a small shift in his expression. “oh? didn’t they try to do that last week? or was that something else?”

“shotaro offered last week and i couldn’t turn him down, they’re trying to push me back to another ex”.

“ah”.

you pick up your bag and stand to head out of the door.

“i promised my sisters i wouldn’t be late, can’t leave them alone at home, if they make anything good i’ll bring around leftovers” you look over your shoulder. “text me when you get home?”

jaemin neglects to respond, you squint as you look at him.

“jaemin?”

“what? oh yeah, yeah, i’ll text you”.

~

jaemin does not end up texting.

you’re aware of that because you continuously glance over at your phone whilst your parents mutter on their meticulous jargon, sneaking in less than vague insults pertaining to your character. you keep checking for some sort of ping, a rogue emoji or videos of his cats that he enjoys sending so much. you only get texts from donghyuck asking what kind of pasta noodles he should buy for dinner, nothing else.

“are we boring you?” your youngest sister inquires, her head leaning against her head as she takes liberal glances towards your own phone.

you sheepishly put your phone away, you have no idea what anybody has been droning on about for the past few minutes, and you’re much too embarrassed to ask. “sorry no, please continue”.

later, you get home and crawl into your sheets, swiping the notification bar one last time to see if jaemin sent anything. disappointment. you tossed and turned for a moment, uncomfortable in the air of your room. it’s late, jaemin clearly had a long day and crashed as soon as he got home. he isn’t obligated to text you everyday, especially when you’re both equally busy in your own right. nevertheless, you briefly entertain the idea of showing up at his place just to see how he’ll react.

that would be crazy, you freak, is what your inner conscious speaks. he’s not your boyfriend or anything.

you do wish jaemin were here, though, he warms your presence in just the slightest.

you get up one last time, grabbing a dormant pusheen plushie left on your floor and pressing your face into it, a silent scream escaping your lips. you peer over at your phone one last time, finally deciding to take a leap.

goodnight, you text, pausing. you take a few moments, typing out i miss you a good six times before deleting such an idiotic message, you two saw each other no more than a few hours ago, why would you even send that? your hands are clammy.

maybe he caught something?

in the next minute, you practically jump up on your feet as your message is registered as seen. you sit up on the bed, observing text bubbles pop up and disappear for several minutes. eventually, jaemin settles on simply hearting your message.

he didn’t even say it back, but your heart is racing, and an irreversible warmth encapsulates you. the sides of your mouth curve upward involuntarily as you think of jaemin, his stupid jokes and his wide smile and his messy blonde hair, lying in bed deciding over how to respond to a ‘goodnight’ text. it’s just a text. a mere reaction even, nothing of a true response, yet this is a feeling you haven’t had in a long time.

lovesickness, you realize.

oh lord.

THE ETHICS OF COWORKER HOOKUPS 12: and zhong chenle was right in the end

“fucking finally” chenle’s mouth does that swivel upward and he beckons renjun closer. “pay up”.

“what? no, this doesn’t count, he hasn’t even told jaemin how he feels yet” renjun argues.

donghyuck taps his feet onto the floor, nudging you with his shoulder as he shares a knowing look, you stick out your tongue, though completely anxious about your upcoming circumstances. “told jaemin how i what?”

chenle sighs as if the whole world rests atop his shoulders. “jaemin romances you every single day, cooks for you, buys you cute gifts, asks for free consults and you’re still wondering how he feels for you? you sure you were at the top of your class back in university?”

jaemin walks in then.

“jaemin!”

you internally wince at the extent of your excitement, tone overwhelming. “um.. hi”.

“hey”.

“you never texted”.

“must’ve slipped my mind”.

“cool— uh, listen” over jaemin’s shoulder, chenle gestures you a thumbs up, renjun making a cut throat motion across his neck whilst donghyuck simply observes the whole thing in the manner of daytime entertainment. “uh.. i’m— we’re ordering in tonight, pizza and a movie are you down?”

jaemin opens his locker and doesn’t look at you. “sounds a little boring, sorry..”

“we don’t have to watch the movie” you suggest, screw shame, you’re as desperate as they get.

he blinks over at you, as if attempting to keep himself grounded though looking into your eyes.

“i’ll pass, have fun though” he replies, “see you all tomorrow” then he’s picking up his jacket, rushing out the locker room in an instant, cutting you off quickly. he practically runs into jeno on his way out, startling the other into donghyuck’s personal space.

“what’s up with jaemin? he looks like his cat just died”.

you turn to renjun and chenle. “he just rejected me, right?

“that money is literally mine” chenle grits his teeth.

“you’re all useless”.

by the time you make it to the lobby, jaemin is about finished with his daily wrap up talk with the receptionist, bag over his shoulder and head pointed towards the door. you’re fully aware of how pathetic you must seem currently, but you suppose nothings worse than not getting the truth out of him.

“hey.. hey, jaemin, slow down?”

jaemin blinks again, the irritated furrow of his eyebrows jumping out at you immediately. “what do you want?”

“i want you to talk to me”.

“what’s there to talk about?”

“you— gosh, you’re so confusing, you know? i can’t read minds, can’t you just tell me what i did wrong?”

and how you ended up outside is beyond you, perhaps it was the better decision, after all, arguing in front of the front desk lady is about as embarrassing as it gets.

jaemin scoffs, glancing down at his watch as if he’s unaware of the time, his apple watch lights up and the background is a picture of his cats, the wallpaper is helplessly adorable, it endears you to no end.

“you didn’t do anything”.

“well you don’t exactly make that obvious with how you’ve been avoiding me, you’ve been weird ever since i told you i started hanging out with shotaro again”.

“that— that has nothing to do with it, what you do out of work is none of my business”.

you try not to feel hurt by that one, you’re aware of what jaemin is trying to do. “so what is it?”

jaemin bites into his cheek. “can’t you drop it?”

“no” you refuse, slightly blocking his way though he could probably carry you on a bad day. “you’re going to have to tell me or get through me”.

“are you insane?”

that almost earns a well deserved fit of laughter, you suppose you are at this point. “you’re being immature, we have all night”.

jaemin gives a long hard stare, and you actually think he’s about to push you out of the way, leave you rejected on the cold sidewalk, but then he sighs, picking at the ends of his hair before breaking into a sigh. “i let you down, you know?”

you blank, arms dropping at your sides as you instead give continuous blinks. “what the fuck are you talking about?”

jaemin looks a crossbred of punching you and kissing you. “of course you don’t remember it’s— god you say things and barely even mean them cause you just talk so much, you know? you make me mad cause you do these little things that just piss me off and i just don’t understand you, you care about people so much and you’re so bossy but you’re also so.. cute, and nice, and you’re funny and you always do these things that make me realize i’m stupidly in love with you, there, that’s it”.

your heart resounds like a drum in your ears. “jaemin—“

“i fell in love with you, okay? and i know you told me not to, didn’t want us devolving into any domestic shit but.. i am, present tense, i’m in love with you”.

oh, you suppose there’s always a catch.

“you done now?” you ask.

“am i— yeah” jaemin laughs, dry and all. “i’m done, are you happy? can i go home now?”

“no” you pull him by the front of his jacket to kiss him, it’s cute that jaemin is clearly surprised by it, the broken whimper he allows to escape when you bite into the swell of his bottom lip is even cuter. his hand comes to cradle your jaw, and for a few sweet moments you forget you’re in front of your building of occupancy. you pull away with your cheeks hot as you rest your foreheads together, suddenly amused.

“thought you would’ve let your parents set you up with your ex”.

“and you didn’t think to ask me?”

“i mean— we never talked about.. this”.

“because you said it would be weird!”

“oh so i’m the bad guy now?”

“yes! yes you are!”

“i told you i was in love with you all you had to say was—“

“shut up” you snap, cupping his impossibly perfect face between your hands. “lord i like you so much, love you an excruciating amount and i miss you all the time even though i see you everyday, you’re so annoying and you have that addicting smile and it’s— you piss me off”.

“as you’ve said before”.

“but.. you know, guess it wouldn’t hurt to try”.

he kisses you again and you can’t help how you smile against his own lips.

“you wanna come back with me?”

jaemin pretends to think it over, as if your fingers aren’t entwined and you don’t already have butterflies alive in your stomach. “i’m worried, what happens if my helmet swallows your tiny little head whole”.

“so romantic na, i’ll have to give you an award for that one”.

“aww, really?”

“no”.

jaemin sticks out his tongue, one last peck given to your lips before you two were off.

when you get back to your place, jaemin falls asleep on your lap midway through the movie like an exhausted old man, or maybe just the young surgeon subjected to the torturous work hours at guleum grave hospital just trying his best. you can’t believe how fond you are, gaze brazen in a manner that renders you nauseous. unable to resist, you reached out to tuck strands of his hair behind his ear.

you hate yourself, it’s just the slightest bit terrifying, you’re fearful at the oncoming future and the enigma of na jaemin in his all. you just want to make sure he wants this, the mushy and sticky feelings which come with the whole process. he is a mystery, yes, but he’s also kind, and patient, and so full of boundless devotion that he probably isn’t even sure he retains.

jaemin jerks awake once jeno flicks on the lights of the living room, but he settles down quickly once he realizes he’s in your lap, you run your fingers through his hair, quietly aching.

he blinks up at you slowly. “i missed the movie”.

“you did” you murmur, “wanna go to bed?”

“yeah” jaemin grabs ahold of your hand in his hair, fingers intertwined, beginning to leave light kisses on your wrist, just above your pulse. he’s so cute like this, so soft looking with his delicate feeling lips and soft all around the edges. you might get sick from the absorbent amount of love you happen to be feeling, his eyelashes flutter in your direction, a smile tugging at his lips which you mirror.

it’s a match made on this soul sucking earth. it’s only a little perfect.

[killer-wizard]

now that i have your attention: please go donate or reblog this compaign !! ive been tagged by @khawla-gfm2 for some time now and the family hasn't reached their goal yet!!

$14,523 raised out of 20k!

This campaign is vetted by association through @mohiy-gaza (vet). (source)

PLEASE REBLOG AFTER VOTING

here's Khawla's words from the gfm page:

"I am Khawla from Gaza, 34 years old. I stand before you as a person trying to support her family of 5: Me, my husband, and my three children: Muhammad, who is 5 years old; Sham, who is 3 years old; and Ghazal, who is nearly a year and a half old. In our terrible conditions, My son Muhammad contracted hepatitis from drinking contaminated water, and both he and Sham are deprived of their right to register in kindergarten, daycare, or other educational institutions. Additionally, due to the circumstances and lack of income, necessary benefits like milk are not provided to baby Ghazal.

With that, my husband's livelihood ha been completely destroyed since we are no longer entitled to work; and we expect to live under miserable conditions in tents in Mawasi Khan Yunis. It is difficult for me to find the words to describe what we face every day in Gaza; with no food, no medicine, no clean drinking water; with oppression, helplessness, psychological pressures, doubts, and daily traumas caused by everything around us and inability to care for loved ones. the fear of danger, disease and death never leaves us.

Now, I find myself in this difficult situation, and humbly ask for your help to save the lives of my family, especially my children, by getting us out of Gaza or helping us have money for medication or other necessities we may have access to. Asking for help is not easy, but we were left with no choice because we want to survive and we strive to rebuild our broken lives. We are very grateful for any help you can provide, no matter how small, as your help will contribute greatly to alleviating our suffering. I hope you will share my story with your family and friends."

-

and if you can't donate, go to arab.org. thank you for reading. free palestine forever and always (any hate or nonsense will be blocked)

[rawmeknockout]

💋Yo! Earthspark is out and I NEED nsfw head cannons of megatron. Please tell me what he likes to do to his bot partner.

01 + He's only a few years out of his old tyrant ways, and it shows in the most intimate moments. He's rough and domineering, but no longer in the way he used to be. It doesn't change the fact that roughing you up or being roughed up gets his spike hard. Megatron is quick to grab your wrist joints to manhandle you when he wants something.

02 + Loves a good fuck after battle. He's older but that doesn't mean the thrill of victory doesn't still get him going. Especially now that he's actually winning battles. 😭 Of course, he can hold off until the paperwork is done, but don't think he'll forget. He's tapping that even if he has to go through five hours of bureaucracy first.

03 + Will slip back into 'Warlord' mode, as a treat, and dirty talk about sharing you among his troops. How he wants you to be tossed at them, used by them, until you're covered in their transfluid and completely unable to escape. Of course, this is only part of roleplay. Megatron is much too possessive, and much too happy with his domestic life, to share you.

04 + His favorite way to wake from recharge is to you riding him. It sends a wonderful thrill straight to his array for you to use his spike like a toy first thing in the morning. He's not going to lay passively, though, because as soon as he's awake he's using your valve like a spikesleeve, fucking up into you.

05 + Megatron wasn't really into quickies before, but he's gotten used to them. The two of you don't really get a whole lot of romantic time alone, so he's learned to take where he can get it. If he has to fuck you against a wall, only a few feet from your allies, then that's what he's going to do.

06 + He doesn't have as much stamina or sex drive as he used to, but at the best of times you two can still fuck everyday. That's not the norm for him, though. Usually he still has to get all up in your guts at least once a week. Megatron just accumulates too much stress and frustration when he can't use your valve to frag away all his concerns.

07 + On the topic of your array, Megatron probably loves some good chastity play. Especially in regards to putting your spike in a cage. A lasting remnant of his time as a warlord. He likes to treat you as a receptacle for his transfluid and stress, just as foreplay. Some habits are hard to break and he uses it as an outlet for his more violent/controlling urges and tendencies. He likes controlling when and how you get off, sometimes treating you as a concubine or prisoner of war. Don't worry, he always provides exceptional aftercare for his toys.

08 + However, there are times he loves to treat you. Okay, more like he actually has time to treat you. Megatron always wants to treat you well. He would spend much more time being gentle and romantic and actually showing you how deep interfacing can be if he wasn't so busy. When he gets the chance, he likes to spend your time together with his face buried in your array, alternating between sucking your spike and eating your valve. The ache in his jaw, although not great for talking the next day, is what he considers a fine reward.

09 + He's much too old for having sparklings now, but he's tossed around the idea of getting you sparked up. There's too many parts at play: he's too old, you're both working on Earth for the foreseeable future, there's too many mechs who want him dead, he simply wouldn't have time. But seeing the Terrans, how much hope there is for the future of Cybertron, it makes him want to contribute more to the revitalization of your planet. To do everything he can for a more peaceful, bright future. Definitely uses it for dirty talk. A little roleplaying that, during one of your quick frags, he's giving you a much needed load of transfluid.

10 + When he's upset with Optimus and/or G.H.O.S.T., he turns off his comms and pulls you into the woods for a quick fuck. Megatron knows he shouldn't, that many people he works with are still suspicious whether he's changed and watch him heavily, but it's his little way of rebelling within reason. If Optimus gets one or two pictures of you mid-frag, don't be mad at Megatron 🥺. It's his coping mechanism 🥺🥺🥺.

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: lungfish

It's time for a family reunion featuring a very, very distant cousin (about 420 million years distant) you may have never met before. Today's Wet Beast Wednesday topic is about one of the last lobe-finned fish. Sort of. You see, all tetrapods, including yourself, are lobe-finned fish whose ancestors decided to leave the water and ended up becoming the first reptiles, amphibians, and mammals over the course of millions of years. Of the lobe-finned fish who stayed in the water, only two lineages have survived to the modern day: the coelacanths and the lungfish. I covered the coelacanth in a previous WBW, so now I'll look at lungfish too.

(Image: the West African lungfish Protopterus annectens lying on sand in an aquarium. It is a long, cylindrical, eel-like fish with wispy, noodle-like pectoral and pelvic fins. Its dorsal fin runs down the back and connects with the tail fin. Its head is rounded, with a short, blunt snout. Its body is brown with darker spots. End ID)

The lungfish are members of the class Dipnoi and there are 6 living species across three families: the Australian lungfish of family Neoceratodontidae, the South American lungfish of family Lepidosirenidae, and 4 species of African lungfish in family Protopteridae. They all share some common features, including a long, heavy, and cylindrical body, unique teeth, and lungs. The Australian lungfish has a single lung while all the others have two. The lungs allow them to breathe air. While there are other air-breathing fish around, they use a modified swim bladder as a lung that is a simple sac. The lungs of lungfish are still modified swim bladders, but they are divided into multiple changers that vastly increases the surface area available for gas exchange. This is far closer in structure to the lungs of tetrapods and represents an early stage in the evolution of lungs. Lungfish also have gills, but they are small and insufficient at providing all the oxygen the fish needs, forcing them to breathe air. The exception to this is the Australian lungfish, which has more developed gills and doesn't need to breathe air. Lungfish have unique teeth that from plates used to crush through hard-shelled prey. Lungfish are non-selective omnivores. Their digestive tracts are simple and lack true stomachs. Instead, the intestine contains a corkscrew-shaped section called a spiral valve that increases the surface area for nutrient absorption. Most species have very small, threadlike pelvic and pectoral fins. All living species are freshwater fish.

(Image: a marbled lungfish Protopterus aethiopicus. It has a similar body plan to the above picture, but its body is pale yellow color covered with large, grey spots. It is poking its snout into rocky sediment. End ID)

The Australian lungfish (Neoceratodus forsteri) or barramunda is the most primitive lungfish species and has changed very little in the past 100 million years. It is native to streams and pools in the Burnett and Mary river systems of Queensland, but has been introduced to other rivers. They are notable for having more robust bodies and more developed pectoral and pelvic fins than the other lungfish species. Their air breathing supplements their gills and allows them to survive dry seasons where their pools often become shallow and hypoxic. This gives the lungfish the ability to thrive in pools other animals struggle in. Unlike other lungfish, the barramunda cannot survive dry season on land. They can survive for several days out of the water as long as they stay wet, but will die if on land too long. Aussie lungfish are nocturnal and primarily carnivorous, feeding on frogs, fish, and various invertebrates, occasionally supplementing its diet with plants and algae. They can grow up to 150 cm (4.9 ft) and 43 kg (95 lbs) though most are smaller.

(image: an Australian lungfish lying on sand. It has a broader and more robust body than the other species, with more prominent scales. its body is a brown color. End ID)

Barramundas mate in spring and summer. They have an elaborate courtship ritual that occurs in three stages. In the first stage, they will swim in circles near aquatic plants while breathing more loudly than usual. In the second stage, one or more males will follow a female while nudging her with his snout. Sometimes the males will wave bits of plants around with their mouths. During the third stage, the female and her chosen mate enter plant patches to mate. The pair will lay on their sides or entwine themselves with each other. The female lays her eggs on plants and the male fertilizes them as they come out. They provide no parental care. The eggs hatch after a few weeks into larvae that look a lot like tadpoles but with internal gills. They develop slowly and eat plankton, small worms, and algae. It can take up to 20 years for a lungfish to reach sexual maturity and they can live for a very long time. The oldest aquarium fish on record was an Australian lungfish named Granddad, who died at 109. The oldest living aquarium fish is another Aussie lungfish named Methuselah who is estimated to be 93. She lives in the Steinhart Aquarium at the California Academy of Sciences. We stan a golden girl.

(image: Methuselah in her open-topped tank. An aquarium worker is inspecting her. One had is under her chin while the other is laying on top of her back. End ID)

The four species of African lungfish are very eel-like in appearance, much more slender than the Australian lungfish, with less prominent scales. Of them, not much is known about the gilled lungfish (Protopterus amphibius) or the spotted lungfish (Protopterus dolloi), though the gilled lungfish is the smallest, reaching only about 44 cm (17 in). The marbled lungfish (Protopterus aethiopicus) has grey to light pink skin covered with dark splotches, giving them a leopard-like pattern that helps them camouflage against light coming into the water. They likely primarily use their gills for respiration, with air-breathing being used as a supplement. The marbled lungfish has the largest genome of any animal and the 4th largest of any organism, with 133 billion base pairs. The marbled lungfish can get up to 2 m (6.6 ft) long. The most well-studied African lungfish is the West African lungfish (Protopterus annectens). They have a unique ability to use their pelvic fins to lift their bodies and walk around on the substrate. They can only do this when submerged, being too heavy to walk on land. They will still move over land though, wriggling between pools. It can reach up to 1 m (3.3 ft) long.

(Image: a spotted lungfish in a tank. It looks very similar to the West African lungfish, but with dark spots. End ID)

(Image: a gilled lungfish. It has the same body plan as the other African species, but is smaller and its body is a yellowish color, with dark speckles. End ID)

Traits all African Lungfish share is their method of reproduction and their ability to survive dry periods. During mating season, the male will make a nest for the female to lay her eggs in. After laying, the female leaves and the male will remain to guard the nest. He will continue to do so after the eggs hatch. Larval lungfish look like tadpoles, complete with external gills. They feed on worms, plankton, and algae as they grow. Once the larvae develop to the point of losing their external gills and growing internal ones, the father will leave them to fend for themselves. The process can take several months. All African lungfish have the ability to survive drought.. When their streams and ponds dry up, the lungfish can burrow into the mud and secrete a cocoon of mucus around themselves, including into their mouths. The mucus entering the mouth allows them to keep their gills wet. The cocoon will harden and the lungfish will enter a state called aestivation, which is similar to hibernation. During this period, metabolic activity drops considerably and the lungfish switches from producing ammonia as waste to the less toxic urea. Lungfish can survive for years in this state, only to emerge once the rains come back and their habitats are flooded again. There are stories of people cutting up dried mud to use as building material, only for lungfish to start crawling out of their walls once it rains.

(image: a CGI model of a lungfish in its cocoon. It is buried in dirt in a cavity with a tunnel leading to the surface. The lungfish is in the cavity and wrapped around itself with its head facing up. It is surrounded by slimy mucus. End ID. Source unknown)

Despite having a very wide distribution consisting of the Amazon, Paraguay, and lower Paraná river basins, very little is known about the South American lungfish (Lepidosiren paradoxa). It is more closely related to the African lungfishes than the Australian lungfish. It appears that the anatomy and lifestyle of the South American Lungfish is very similar to that of its African relatives, to the point some taxonomists have suggested both groups should be in the same family.

(image: a South American lungfish swimming. It looks very similar to the African species, but with yellowish spots around its head. End ID)

The Australian lungfish is classified as endangered by the IUCN, while the other species are all classified as least concern. The Australian Lungfish is threatened by damming and changes to the rivers it lives in, as well as the non-native Mozambique tilapia. The larger African species and the South American lungfish are fished in their range to be used as food, though apparently not to the extent that it is significantly harming their population. That being said, lungfish are slow-growing animals that can take a long time to reach sexual maturity. Species like that have a harder time repopulating after a population loss.

Once again I have an excuse to use one of these cards. (Image: the Weird n' Wild Creatures card for the West African Lungfish, featuring a drawing of the animal on a green background and various facts printed around the card. End ID)

[smallestapplin]

Kinda thinking about the other Rescue Bots + cockwarming

Boulder and Chase handle it better than Blades

Heatwave, however, turns it back around on whoever’s cockwarming him and purposefully twitches to tease them

Oh allow me to add more. Gn!reader but could be read as humna reader or cybertronian.

-

-

Warming Chase’s spike is a close encounter, he loves how close and intimate it feels, he loves having your warm wet heat snuggly around his spike while he reads manuals or works on reports. He has a will of steel and does not easily cave to feeling your valve clenching around him, even if it makes his spike twitch and leak pre-fluid he does not move.

Chase would place a servo on your hip to get you to hold still, to stop you from moving while he focuses on what he’s going.

“I quite enjoy this ‘spike warming’ activity, being connected to you in such a…lewd way feels intoxicating.”

Chase loves it almost as much as he loves interfacing with you, you might have to work hard to get him to finally fuck you when he’s so contact sitting inside you. You’re going to have to plead your case and plead it loudly, whining his name, arching your back, cry for him to fuck you, that is if you want him to move at all.

-

-

Boulder is another one who loves the closeness spike warming provides! However, unlike the others he caves very quickly, how can he not when your valve is clenching around him trying to milk him of all his transfluid? Boulder lasts a long time though, adoring all of this as he kisses your neck, your shoulders, whispering how much he loves you in your ears. It’s easy to hear how much this effects him, each ex-vent growing heavier and heavier, his internal fans growing louder as he tries to cool himself off.

But you feel so good, too good! He wants to stay still and cuddle just like this but his spike is throbbing, his valve is leaking, he needs to overload so badly!

“Ah…haa…oh-oh primus I’m sorry I can’t- frag! Don’t clench like that or I’ll- ohhh..!!”

His large servos on your hips lifting you up and dropping your down. Drool leaking from his intake and his optics bright, taking in every move of your body. Boulder loves you so much, he also loves how you cry out for him, clinging to him, and asking him for more of his thick spike, which he is more than happy to give you! He can never deny you.

-

-

Now Heatwave is just mean warming his spike is a punishment for you. Heatwave is a menace for your tight valve but he also doesn’t care for any sass or attitude you snd his way, and what better way to make you behave than sitting you on his spike? You get to feel how deep he is, feel every throb of his shaft, feel his pre-fluid leaking into you, and you can do nothing about it. You can try to move, try to grind down on his spike, but he will just hold your hips still with one big servo.

You whine and beg for him, trying so hard to squirm and get some sort of pleasure from it but to no avail.

“Maybe you sit there like a good pet and behave, I might consider giving you a treat.”

You try so hard, but Heatwave is a mean girlfriend, he loves making it difficult for you. Biting his dermas as he lowers his free sero to yout clit rubbing it in tight circles that leave you shaking, so close to overlapping- just to stop and not let you cum. If you start begging he will chuckle and mock you for it.

“Aw, can’t handle my spike, sweetspark? You’re the one who was practically asking for this, acting like shareware in front of the others. Someone has to remind you where your place is.”

So mean, he could do this all day and all night, when it comes to bullying your pretty valve he has the patience of a saint, just to have you crying and begging him to move and properly fuck you.

[canary-prince]

"What do I do if my marriage gets dissolved?"

SO, your state is trying to overturn gay marriage, huh? Wish I could say I'm surprised, buuuuuuuut, I'm not. Good-ish news: I'm a medical social worker. I'm semi prepared for this!

If the state you currently reside in outlaws and dissolves your marriage, you are going to need DOCUMENTS. Documents documents DOCUMENTS!!

"What documents, Jay?" Durable Power of Attorney for Healthcare. Durable Power of Attorney for Finances. Living Will. Actual Will. There are probably more but boy howdy these are the BIG ONES. Why? Because these documents are what we in healthcare, those in law enforcement, and those in the court/property law system use to designate your Next Of Kin.

NEXT OF KIN means a lot of things SOCIALLY, but legally? Your next of kin is the person who is LEGALLY RECOGNIZED as having default decision-making power for you. Documents specifying a Decision Maker are often called ADVANCED DIRECTIVES. This means you complete these documents, under your own volition, as set of instructions to be followed if you later become incapacitated.

"What the hell does incapacitated mean?" It means you aren't clinically dead BUT it has been determined that you are unable to safely make your own decisions. Examples of incapacitation include being: unconscious or in a coma; being conscious but permanently mentally unsound due to dementia or a traumatic brain injury; being temporarily mentally incapacitated due to a psychiatric episode.

"What does my decision maker do?" Simply put, they make decisions on your behalf. And actually, if the precious, precious documents are completed correctly and thoroughly, they mostly give voice to your wishes. They are the one (or ones) who decide:

"Burial or cremation?"

"Do you want an autopsy?"

"Who is to be informed of this death and invited to the funerary service?"

OR

"Will you be suspending curative efforts or switching to hospice?"

"Will you be placing [patient] into a care home or keeping them with you?"

"Do you consent to homecare services?"

"Do you accept the current diagnosis or do you wish to hear additional opinions?"

OR

"Do you want to try an organ transplant?"

"Do you want to enroll in a clinical trial?"

"Are we permitted to perform blood transfusions on this patient?"

"Are we permitted to provide this patient with psychiatric interventions?"

OR

"Are we putting this money into a trust or dividing it among family members?"

"Are we selling this house or gifting it to an heir?"

"Are we selling the deceased patient's furniture or donating it?"

"Are we burying this body or giving it to science?"

That is for Durable Powers of Attorney, both healthcare and financial.

"What's a living will, then?" is a detailed list of instructions left regarding care during your period of incapacitation, especially when Death is the expected outcome. Where as a DPOA might specify only a few short things: "No ventilator" or "Don't donate my heart, take everything else" or "No pig valves, not even to save me", a living will can be more elaborate, and doesn't necessarily name a singular decision maker. Many states in the US do not treat living wills as legally binding. But, in the absence of more concrete documents, they can be a valuable guide for family members and key members of your care team. We encourage these often in palliative and end of life care, due to those patients being at risk for extended periods of incapacitation.

If you have MS, Huntingtons, Cerebral Palsy, HiV, Schizophrenia, Bipolar Disorder or a history of psychosis, a family history of Alzheimers and/or Parkinsons and/or Vascular Dementia, I urge you to consider a living will. If you do extreme sports or otherwise frequently risk severe head trauma and/or prolonged oxygen deprivation, I strongly urge you to consider a living will. If you have a history of severe substance abuse and/or suicide attempts, I strongly urge you to consider a living will.

"Ha! No WAY man, I ain't signing away my rights to NOBODY. I'm staying in control 'til the moment I die." Unfortunately, no. You will not. If you are unconscious, you cannot make choices. If you become too psychotic to find your way outside and collapse from dehydration because you think your tap water is poison, they will not let you make your own decisions. If you begin suffering from dementia and believe your are seven years old and still in your hometown, they will not let you make your own decisions. If you are effectively brain-dead but breathing on your own, you cannot make your own decisions.

I have had many patients who thought it worked like this, and I have needed to explain to them that their logic is flawed. Your refusal to acknowledge these laws does not exempt you from them, and if you do not choose an advocate/decision-maker ahead of time and then are determined to need one, The System will simply choose for you.

"If I don't pick somebody, who gets to make decisions about my care?" Your next of kin. Who your next of kin is determined be goes like this:

Do you have a LEGALLY MARRIED SPOUSE? If yes, that is your next of kin. Marriage trumps everything else. Keep in mind, if you are living apart from a person you are not "with" but are still LEGALLY married to, that person is still next of kin. Even you no longer speak to them regularly, they can absolutely seize power over your healthcare and your finances. Even if you are currently legally married to your first choice decision maker, fill it out anyway. They are actively working to strip us of our rights, so dig your heels in.

If there is no spouse, they will seek out any adult children you may have, and assign Next of Kin to the eldest one.

If there are no adult children, they will seek out your parents. Yes, even if you are an out and proud trans lesbian, and they are aggressively cruel MAGA cultists who exclusively refer to you through the use of slurs.

If there are no parents, they will seek out your siblings and give decision making over to the either the oldest one. Or, more often at this point, whoever picks up the phone first. Yes, even if you hate your siblings, they have a much firmer claim over you than your friends or your partner in a world without marriage equality.

If there is NO biological family willing to step up and make choices for you, THEN they will turn to friends and unmarried partners, but, the bio family can sue to reclaim their rights at any time.

"Jay, that's not true!! When I was in the hospital and couldn't speak for myself, I didn't have that filled out and they still knew to call my girlfriend instead of my mom. Doctors understand that families are complicated, they wouldn't do this!"

I have watched this happen. I have watched lovers and friends and "chosen family members" who lived with the patient for years be tossed out like fucking trash in favor of blood relatives the patient despised, all because those same lovers and friends couldn't be bothered to sign two sheets of paper one time. While I am thrilled for those of you who have escaped this sort of nightmare, not everyone will be as astronomically lucky as you were. Doctors are fully capable of picking and choosing their moment when it comes to using "protocol" to hurt you, and the sheer number of institutions meekly showing Trump their belly should make you think twice before trusting a bureaucratic machine to protect your rights out of compassion.

[drdemonprince]

the porn addiction anon made me think to ask, do you have an opinion on viewing self-harm behaviors as an addiction?

i personally have found it to be a helpful way of looking at my relationship with it and fairly accurate to my experience with urges and tolerances etc, and i don't personally care whether it's ever officially considered an addiction or not, but i am curious about the conversation about it and your opinion if you have one.

thank you for reading this and if you respond, thank you for your response!

I think that the 'addiction' frame for self-harm can make the most sense if you're personally on board with a goal of abstinence -- but I would still caution against it somewhat, as research generallly suggests that when a person views a behavior pattern as being caused by an 'addiction' they are less likely to feel that they have agency over it, and are more likely to experience shame when they experience relapses.

What I find most appealing and helpful in understanding self-harm, both for myself and others, is to appreciate the multiple needs that the self-harm typically satisfies. This can be things like providing an endorphin rush, distracting from a disturbing situation, a physical outlet for emotional pain, a means of conveying to others that you are suffering, a source of stimulation, a means of grounding oneself within one's body, an intense enough sensation to shock you out of dissociation, a way to burn off excess energy, an acceptable outlet for one's anger, a way to take control over one's own body, a means of accessing privacy, a means of expressing a meltdown or any number of other things.

When we can see that self-harm is beneficial and sensible in several key ways, it's easier to view it as just one option among many for meeting a person's needs -- and sometimes it might be the best option! Appreciating what self-harm meaningfully does for us allows us to make clearer decisions about what is lacking or painful for us in life at the moment, and minimizing the unwanted damage caused by it. This framing also centers the self-harming person as having the authority to determine what is best for their own life, even while honoring that they might require support getting their needs satisfied.

For example, I used to look down on my excessive exercise habit as solely an eating disorder symptom, one that I was "addicted" to and shamefully couldn't shake. But any time I tried to force myself to not exercise the way I wanted to, I felt cranky, pent up, resentful, stressed, and was actually prone to more damaging forms of self-harm.

It was only after reading more about harm reductionist approaches to eating disorders that I figured out that the long walks I love to go on are not *only* a means of purging, though that is how they began -- they also provide me a needed energy valve, a space to meditate and daydream, an excuse to get away from people when I'm feeling trapped, and a daily obligation that for many years prevented me from overworking, because it consumed up so much time in my day.

I was most prone to long, long, longgg walks that bordered on physically damaging when I was trapped in a house that was not emotionally safe to me, completely overwhelmed with stress due to school and work, and unaware of the sensory and energy-expenditure needs related to my neurodivergence. Now that I'm in a better situation, I still need to exercise almost every day to keep my anxiety and rage even somewhat at bay, but I don't need to do it for *hours*, and I'm making my body stronger rather than weakening myself. I have other ways of addressing my sensory needs, seeking privacy, finding stimulation, and so on. Compared to others I can still seem a bit compulsively physical, exercising even when I am sick, and when I can't work exercise into my daily schedule I do get fucking irate -- but really, what's the problem? It doesn't really qualify as self-harm anymore.

The same logic works on most of the other forms of self-harm I have exhibited, too, from seeking out abusive relationships to reading transphobic hate forums. I did those things because I was completely emotionally blunted, depressed, isolated, and craving stimuli that reinforced my existing self-hatred. And those forms of self-harm intellectually engaged me, filled me with excitement, and shocked my system in ways both good and bad. I'm glad I don't do that shit anymore mostly, but it didn't get better because I realized I was "addicted" to self-harming or anything like that. I had to work on addressing the unmet need.

I hope that others who view self-harming differently will sound off in the notes, because I do think the forms my self-harm has taken are significantly different from things like cutting, burning, etc, and what works for me won't work for everybody else. For the most part I have only physically struck myself when I'm in the midst of a meltdown, so that form of self-injury hardly even ranks as "self harm" to me because it's not really intentional.