#the same thing. and boy am I gonna mash

[brainrot-yumm]

OKAY OKAY OKAY BUT GUYS I feel like everyone is sleeping, in a COMATOSE dare I say, on the concept of a smitten Mr. L interacting with Count Bleck and his minions.

Like when Mr. L comes back after his first interaction with the Guys, he’s already loudly gushing over Bowser (cause of course the crush sticks through the brainwashing). And Count Bleck hates it so much. He is SO UTTERLY bitter over even the concept of romance happening between the two, which is really weird for him since he’s usually just brooding about that kind of thing. He condemns even the thought and refuses to let L do anything with the heroes without Dimentio supervision (which, well, for lore reasons he was gonna do that anyway). It’s crazy unfair and everyone is super confused by it.

(cough it’s because Blumiere very much sees himself in Ouigi, what with the very intense “tragically separated Romeo Juliet” vibes that Bowuigi tends to have, and wants to stop it before things progress any more and someone kills one of the two to keep the sides black and white [not that he’s talking from experience or anything hahaha]. And also he’s bitter he doesn’t have that chance anymore cough)

This of course culminates into a bit near the end where Bleck, now aware of the whole pixl situation and currently deciding that omnicide isn’t the best idea anymore, lets a back-to-normal Weegie know that the whole crush thing is fine and he actually endorses it now, just be careful about that whole thing and understand that the hatred of others isn’t (usually) the fault of lovers, and also interspecies relationships aren’t weird lol. He tells him this in public. Like with everyone there. Like with Bowser there. It’s painfully awkward.

The other henchmen would be great reactors too. I feel like at least one of them (probably O’Chunks) would be extremely against it for the sole reason that Bowser’s married, and endorsing affairs are the only thing he really draws the line about. Mimi would adore the gossip (they would totally hang out together to gush about crushes). Dimentio would. Nothing would really change with him except that when he first hears about it he’s silent for a hot second, no change in facial expression, before just going “ah.” and then continuing on n pretending it never happened. And Nastasia would literally not care since she thinks they’re all idiots (to be fair though, all of them think that they’re the smart one of the group. Except O’Chunks. He knows he isn’t). Continue thinking about this concept at your discretion.

All I’m saying is that Bowser gets so many interactions with his fam during most Bowuigi fics, and Luigi really doesn’t have that much in comparison. He deserves some interactions. Even if they’re from sucky people. ESPECIALLY if they come from my favorite game in existence.

[actually-well-written]

Zombies can't have pets? Let's change that.

Zed necrodopolis x reader (NSFW)

"A five, six seven, eight!" Shouts a small voice chants a cheer, echoing through the tunnels.

Trying to get away from the loud music and green smoking from the zombie party, which was held underground in a bunker, making it impossible to escape the noise. Yet (Y/n) was able to hear the voice and follow it through the path and soon became curious as to who was chatting.

Finally, she soon reaches a space in the bunker. A room that's small and cramped space with little natural light, as it is hidden underground, and instead was decorated with lights. A staircase leading out of the bunker stands in the middle of the room, the base covered with cardboard, somewhat resembling a stage.

(Y/n) Turns the corner and finds a little girl with green pigtails , waving around white pom-poms and chanting the same cheer your cousin Alison gave at Zed's first football game.

"That's really good." (Y/n) Smiles, walking closer.

The little girl gasps and stops. She quickly gets of the 'stage' and hides her pom-poms behind her dog plushie.

"I wasn't cheering!" She states, holding her hands behind her back as if she was just caught with a cookie jar.

(Y/n) Giggles, "it's ok. I won't tell a soul." She promises, pretending to sip her lips. "You must be Zoey. Zed's sister."

"I am. Are you (Y/n)?"

"The one and only. How'd you know?" She asks, sitting down on the 'stage'.

"Zed talks about you a lot. When he thinks I'm not around." She explains, sitting down next to her, dog plush in hand.

"Oh, yeah? What's he say?"

"That your really pretty." She combs her fingers through the dogs stuffed fur. "And you 'have a nice rack'? I don't know what that means." She deadpans.

(Y/n) Chocks in her own spit in surprise, "oh, that so?" She covers the bottom half of her face with her hand, resting her elbow on her knee. Blushing at both the fact Zed thinks something like that about her and the possibility he says more things like that about her.

"Do you like cheering?" She asks, trying to change the subject and calm her blush on her face.

"Yeah! I love cheer!" She smiles. "Your cousins good."

"She is isn't she?"

"Zoey?! What are you doing here?" Zed pops out from being the corner.

"Please. I'm not gonna miss a zombie mash." Zoey sasses.

Zed rolls his eyes playfully and leans on the wall, crossing his arms, "well, come on. The party is almost over and you need to go to bed."

"Oh, come on." She pouts, but then smirks, and starts clapping her hands and patting her lap. "Come on. Who's a good boy?"

Zed tenses as he looks over at (Y/n) nervously, afraid to act like a dog in front of his crush. (Y/n) Only Raises an eyebrow in confusion as Zed looks around the room in embarrassment. He sighs and quietly lets out a bark, his arms still crossed.

"Zed?" Zoey asked confused at why her older brother suddenly doesn't want to participate in their inside joke.

(Y/n), now somewhat understanding what's happening, starting patting her lap as well. "Come on, Zed! Be a good boy for Zoey." She giggles.

Zed's eyes widen in shock, and he blushes at the fact (Y/n) just called him a good boy. Even if he was aware it was a joke.

Zed shakes his head, but his blush doesn't go away, so he carries on with the act. Panting and hanging his hands under his chin. He barks and woofs, making his way to Zoey and kneeling down.

She pats his head and shakes his 'paw'. "Good boy." She praises.

"Yeah. What a good boy~" (Y/n) teases. Smirking at the now even redier zombie before her.

Zed clears his throat, "uh-Zoey? G-go find Eliza. She'll take you home." His voice just as flushed as his face.

Zoey nods, getting up and taking her pom-poms and her plushie. She runs off back down the tunnel back to the party.

"Bye, Zoey!" (Y/n) Shouts. "She's cute kid."

"Yeah. Um, thanks?" Zed stands back up, (Y/n) following.

"What was that about?" She asks, giggling.

Zed scratches the back of his neck, "just something I do to cheer her up. She wants a dog."

"Why can't she have one?"

Zed raises his eyebrows confusion at the question, "cause Zombies can't have one?"

"What?! That's so messed up!"

"You didn't know?"

She shakes her head, "Zed if I never meet you I would still believe all the propaganda they show us humans."

"Right, propaganda. I know that word." He rambles, the last bit of his blush finally fading.

"Well, what about you?"

"Me?"

"What would you like to have as a pet?"

"Oh, when I was younger I wanted a bunny."

"Oh." And that's when it hit her. And idea. A fun idea. "A bunny?"

Zed chuckles, "yeah, yeah. A football player likes cute little animals. What can I say, I'm not following a stereotype."

"Do you have anything important tomorrow?"

"Huh?"

"In your classes?"

Zed smirks and crosses his arms, "are you suggesting we play hookie?"

(Y/n) Playfully scoffs, "nooo, I was simply going to ask if you would meet me in the zombie safe zone we meet in during lunch."

"What for?"

She shrugs, "find out~"

"Um, ok?"

(Y/n) Smiles and kisses his cheek. "Alright, see you tomorrow!" She waves good bye and runs back the same way as Zoey.

Zed places his hand over the kiss and smiles. What is she planning? He thought.

___________________________________________________________________

"(Y/n)? Are you here?" Zed whisper-yells, as he closes the hatch door of the zombie safe room.

Suddenly a pair of arms comes out from behind the shelves of emergency supplies and wraps around Zed's waist.

"Hi!" (Y/n) Smiles into Zed's up, looking up at him.

Zed flinches at first, but then smiles. "Oh, hey."

She lets go of him and sits down on the stall.

"Soo? What's up?"

She giggles and takes her hair from her shoulder. Playing with the ends of it, she twists it around her finger. She pops her mouth and reaches into her bag, which Zed hadn't noticed was there.

She takes something out and hides it behind her back, "come here."

"...I'm.. nervous." He jokes, in a nervous laugh.

"Don't be nervous. Come on."

"Why?"

She playfully rolls her eyes, "don't worry so much. Come on." She stitches her tone into a baby voice, one that a person uses with their dog. "Come on, Zed. Be a good boy. Come here~"

Zed blushes, the embarrassment and arousal of the praise getting to him again. He places his bag on the floor and slowly walks towards to shorter girl. "Y-yes?"

"Kneel down."

He places his knees on the ground and looks up at her in confusion. "What are you-" without realizing it, she finishes placing something around his neck and adjusts it. "Wha-IS THIS A COLLAR?!?!" He asks, turning a bright red.

(Y/n) Smiles innocently and then places a white bunny ear headband on her head.

"What-what is happening?!" Zed asks, his voice cracking.

"Look I know it's weird and I shouldn't be thinking like this, but-" she blushes and slowly knees down next the Zed. She bites her lip and whispers, "so you wanna do a roleplay with me?"

"....yes...... please..." Zed whispers back, his blush reaching his ears.

She smiles and blushes as well, "o-okay! Well, um it's simple. You're my good boy, "she gently tugs on the collar, "and I'm your good bunny girl." She points to her bunny ears. "Got it?"

He gulps and nods to the floor, "hehe, no one told me high school would be like this." He jokes.

She giggles, "ok, well. Anything you want to say? Any rules?"

"Um, no. I don't think? Just say red if, you know, wanna stop."

She nods, "same to you."

He nods.

They both sit in silence, Zed staring down at the floor and (Y/n) staring at him. The hallways outside the door loud with students walking through it.

"Did you want me to start or-" she asks quietly.

"Oh, right. Sorry." Zed takes a deep breath and places his hands on her back, pushing her gently towards him. Kissing her softly.

She places her hands on the sides of his face, slowly rubbing his cheek with her thumb. The kiss quickly becoming a passionate make out.

Zed rubs her back up and down and places the palm of his other hand on the back of her head, his long fingers accidentally knocking the headband off.

(Y/n) Pulls the kiss apart and giggles against his lips. "Careful there, sir~" She teases, placing the headband back in her head.

"Sir? I thought I was you're good boy?" Zed teases back, kissing a trail down her jaw.

"Ptff, you haven't done anything good yet." She pants, placing her hand on his head.

"Oh, yeah? What do I need to do then bunny? How can I be a good boy?" He asks, moving to her neck.

(Y/n) blushes at the sudden confidence, but quickly calms herself, and pulls his hair, slightly pushing his head back and away from her neck.

"Stand up." She demands.

He obeys, standing back on his feet. "And?" He asks, (Y/n) still kneeling down.

She hums, pretending to think. Quietly she takes off her shirt. Zed covers his eyes. "...what are you doing?"

"Oh, right. Sorry." He chuckles, taking his hands off his eyes. "Nice rack." He smirks.

"So I've heard." She giggles. Crawling over to his legs she takes off his belt.

"Um-"

"It's ok." She gently unzips his fly and unbuttons his pants. "I know what I'm doing. Just relax." She takes off his pants and his boxers. His member sprong out and hit her on her face. "Wow.....big." she mumbles out.

"Uh, thanks?" He gasps out. "Is-is it gonna fit in your-"

She cuts him off by placing kisses along the sides of his shaft. Once she texted the base she started licking around it.

Zed covers his mouth and watches with widen eyes and a flushes face.

She smirks up at him and takes it into her mouth. "Hmm, it's tastes pretty sweet." She mumbles out.

He shuts his eyes and roughly grabs a patch of her hair for support. She giggles at his flustered-ness and bops her head.

"Wait. Wait. Wait."

She halts for a moment, "already?"

"No-I-I need to sneeze."

"....are you serious-"

Zed covers his mouth with his arm and sneezes three times. "sorry. Did I ruin the moment?"

"...yeah." she playfully rolls her eyes. "It's ok, I can keep going-"

"No, it's fine." He pushes her head back and gets back on the ground. He grabs her wrists and pins her to the floor. "I wanna use my bunny girl now." He states in a low growl.

(Y/n) gulps, pulling against his strength, but fails. "I-I have a con-"

"It probably wouldn't fit anyways."

"Cocky, much?"

He laughs, and rolls his eyes. He slowly puts a hand up her skirt, moving her panties to the side, fingers dipping through her folds.

(Y/n) let out a moan as he rubs through her slick. “All this and I've barely touched you, bunny?” He teases, now lining up his cock and he slowly sinks into her soaking heat.

“Fuckkk.” Zed groans out, one hand gripping her hip and moves his other to hold her hand tightly for support. He begins to thrust in and out of her at an agonizing pace. She closes her eyes tight and uses her other hand to wrap around his neck.

“Fuck, Zed, fuck me.” she moan, hips slapping into his own with each harsh thrust

"Am I your good boy, bunny?” He asks, still relentlessly pounding into you.

"So good, you fuck me so good, Zed.” she praise him, rubbing her hand up and down his neck as her climax straying to build up.

"Better than any human?"

"Way better. And bigger." She giggles, her moans interrupting. "Just-pull out, ok?"

"Yeah, got it."

"Am I a good bunny?"

"Best bunny. Best fucking bunny."

He pulls his hand from hers, dipping it down to circle her clit. Her orgasm washing over as he continues to pound.

"Lord, now I need to sneeze." She pants out.

He laughs as his hips stutter and he’s pulling out, pumping his cock a few times before his white ropes shoot across her legs.

Zed exhales and lays down on top of her, slightly squishing her, but she doesn't say anything. She wraps her arms around him and they both lay in the silence.

"....now what?" He asks.

"...um, we go to class, I guess." She shrugs.

"......after that?!?" He asks, raising his head to look at you in bewilderment.

[babybluebex]

telling robert fischer you’re pregnant idec don’t look at me you KNOW how i feel about babies

yes yes, you are a FIEND for the babies, i'm aware of this... lucky for you, i am too 😈 also i tweaked this a little tiny bit to be more like what i texted you about sooooooo

Ever since Robert split the company, he had been happier. Of course, he really only split it because of you... And him.

"Mikey, just one more spoonful of carrots, then you can have a cookie," you heard your husband say from the dining room, and you nervously looked down at the bathroom counter. The plastic test had been saying the same thing for the past ten minutes, and, every time you looked back at it, your heart thumped with adrenaline. But no, it couldn't be. Michael was hardly 11 months old, and he took up most of your time; you and Robert had only had sex twice (three times, if him kneeling between your legs while Michael was napping counted) in the past six months. While it certainly wasn't impossible, it just seemed so soon.

When you finally left the bathroom, you found your boys sitting at the table, Robert spooning mashed carrots into his son's mouth, his own dinner cold and forgotten. When you had first gotten pregnant with Michael, you were worried about how much time Robert spent at the office and if he would be able to be there for his son. To your surprise, though, Robert had come through for you. He had used his father's alternate will that split up the company in order to take time for you and his son, and, even though the inheritance was smaller than Robert would have wanted, it meant he got to be with you and Michael. And there for you he was; he worked from home every day except for Fridays, he went with you to every doctor's appointment— even when you went into labor on a Friday morning, he skipped out of his meetings for the rest of the day to be with you. Robert was the best father you could have asked for, always prioritizing Michael before himself, and it made you pleased to know that fatherhood had completely changed him. You loved the Robert that you used to know, but Robert as a dad just made sense.

"Rob?" you said quickly. "I need to talk to you."

He looked at you with worry in his eyes, and Michael glanced at you. He was the spitting image of his father, dark downy hair and clear blue eyes, and he smiled his toothy little smile at you and squealed, slamming his hands down onto his high-chair tray. He started to babble, looking at Robert as he said "Da-da-da!", and Robert nodded slowly.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, and you hugged yourself as you shook your head.

"Just..." you started softly.

"Just what, sweetheart?" Robert asked, sounding a little urgent.

You sat down next to him at the table and wiped up Michael’s chin, covered in carrots, and you sighed. “I think I’m pregnant,” you said, and you watched Robert’s face turn from one of worry to one of surprise.

"Oh!" he said. "Well, that's good! I was worried it was gonna be something bad."

"I want to go to a doctor and get a test done," you told him, and you watched him pull Michael from his high chair, settling him easily on his hip.

"Alright," Robert agreed easily.

"Robbie," you said quickly. "Do you not hear me?"

"I hear you, sweetheart," Robert told you.

"Well?" you asked. "We can't have a toddler and a baby running around! It'll be too hectic! And Mikey is still a lot of work, we'll be stretched so thin with him and a newborn."

"I think we'll be fine," Robert said. He held tightly onto Michael as he reached down into the pantry for his son's favorite cookies, the shortbread kind with a thin chocolate on the bottom, and he turned back to you for a moment. "I'll just take less hours at the office."

"You already don't have that many hours," you said softly. "I just... I'm just worried, y'know? I don't know if I can do that."

Michael grabbed at the cookie in Robert's hand, and Robert gave his son a playful scowl. "We ask before we take things, Mikey," he said. "Here, ask nicely."

Michael reached out his chubby little fist again, but this time he babbled away a quick "Dada!". Robert smiled and broke the cookie into a smaller piece, more manageable for Michael, and your son pushed it between his lips, gnawing on it with his growing teeth. Robert came back to the table, handing Michael off to you, and you held your son firmly, sighing.

"I think you can do that," Robert said finally. "You're a strong woman, and such a good mother. I mean, you already take care of me and Mikey so well. I think you're capable of more than you think you are."

"But..." you started, bouncing Michael lightly. You shook your head lightly, and Robert leaned forward, resting a gentle hand on your knee.

"You're not alone," Robert told you. "You've got me here for you, no matter what. Alright? We're gonna do this together."

You pressed your lips together and sighed through your nose, and you watched your son eat his cookie for a minute. His big blue eyes caught your gaze, and he extended his hand to you, giving you the sloppy, gnawed-on remnants of his cookie, and you couldn't help but smile. "Thank you," you whispered to him, taking it into your hand, and you looked back up at Robert. "If you say so, Robbie. We have to think of more names."

"I hope it's a girl," Robert said, reaching out to pinch Michael's belly. "You want a sister, Mikey? A little sister?" Michael giggled and squirmed in your arms, obviously wanting down so he could play, and your smile grew.

"I want another boy," you said. "Just have a bunch of little rascals running around."

"Who says a girl can't be a rascal?" Robert asked. "She can be whatever she wants to be."

"That's true," you chuckled. "Can you try to get me a doctor's appointment for later this week?"

"Sure," Robert said. "Did you take a drugstore test?"

"Yeah," you told him. "Just a few minutes ago."

"Why?" Robert asked. "What made you think to do that?"

"Well, I'm late, for one thing," you started. "And I'm getting that same sick feeling whenever I eat that I did back when I was in my first trimester."

"Okay," Robert said softly. "Well, we'll go later and see what the verdict is. But, I'll let you know, if it is a girl, I'll start crying."

"Oh, whatever," you giggled, and you leaned over Michael to kiss Robert softly. "My big crybaby."

[anjelicawrites]

Warnings: nipple play, nipple piercings, nipple weights, overstimulation, a bit of pain play.

A/N: the two requests came one after another and they complement each other perfectly, I had to mash them: they're *chef's kiss*

NSFW and 18+ only please!

The light chain is dainty in his hands, small rings so light he can barely feel them against his palm; the weights as well, two small beads he can attach to his nipple rings.

"Are you sure?"

You let your chin rest on Aemond's shoulder as your eyes focus again on the elegant jewelry in his hands. He doesn't immediately respond, his eye still caught by the play of the light against the shiny metal.

"I am." He, then, answers, turning his head to kiss your cheek.

He's been given the full green light by the piercers, to do whatever he wants with his nipple piercings, since they're fully healed.

"Shall we?"

You can see the way Osferth is vibrating in his own skin with excitement and you'd be lying if you said you don't feel the same: Aemond 's chest area is so responsive, almost to a ridiculous degree. With the addition of the piercings his responses have skyrocketed, even when you three couldn't play with them too roughly because his nipples were still healing; now you're curious of what his body could do.

Your hands idly caress Aemond's tight abs, he's so ripped it is almost unreal how the cords of muscles play under your fingers, you can feel the excitement coursing through his body as Osferth, slowly, attaches one weight on the right nipple, and the twin on the left; the moan that leaves Aemond's parted lips runs through you, adding fuel to the fire of your desire.

"How does it feel?" Osferth asks.

Against you Aemond moans again and rolls his hips, his cock already hard and leaking obscenely against his tummy.

"You're so pretty, sweetling, all bejeweled of us." You murmur in his ear, feeling the shudder coursing through his body. "You just need one little thing to be perfect."

On cue, Osferth's index finger curls in the hoop of Aemond's collar to support his already lax body in a sitting up position, while you crawl in front of him with the long chain dangling from your fingers.

Aemond's chest rises and falls fast, torn as he is between pleasure and excitement, the weights on his nipples stinging deliciously; because you can, you pull on his nipple, forcing the small ball downwards, only to let go suddenly, letting it bounce against Aemond's chest as he whines, his long back arching at the sudden painful sensation.

"Good boy." You drawl.

Seeing him so raw and needy ignites the darker part of your brain, the one that wants this beautiful, intelligent man, reduced into a moaning, screaming mess that lives for pleasure only.

You kiss his forehead after you've finished attaching the chain to his nipples, the silver now dangles against his chest, enhancing his beauty.

He looks so fuckable, ready to be taken, naked as he is, and hard, the black leather of the collar in contrast with his alabaster skin, his nipples a darker shade of pink adorned with silver: he's such a sight to behold, his whole body trembling with desire, his cock leaking delicious precome all over his abs.

He keens when Osferth tugs on the chain again and again, putting more weight with each pass, testing how far he can go before he has to stop. You're not idle either, you pull on the weight again, your eyes glued to the way Aemond's hips push upwards, fucking nothing as tears stream down his cheeks.

"You know the fun thing, sweetling?" You can see the way Aemond is desperately trying to focus on your words. "Those little things will dangle and move, no matter the position we fuck you, or you us. They're gonna pull and pull, and move with each push. I bet you'll come within seconds, and stay hard like a good boy for us."

Your words, the heath and desire they hide, the pleasure that spreads from his chest with every pull on the chain and ball, everything flies to his cock, liquefying his upper body strength: he wants to fall on his back and be taken, but he's not allowed, not with the way Osferth is grabbing the chain, keeping him sitting up, pulling at his chest with increasing strength. Aemond doesn't even realize there’s tears streaming down his cheeks, or that his hips are pumping against nothing as you take one bead between your teeth to suck and bite on the delicate skin of his nipple, all he feels is pain that morphs into pleasure, that blurs everything in his mind: his words, his desire, his control.

He's painting, saliva dripping from his open mouth, small sounds of pleasure escaping as the band of need in his belly tightens and tightens as you both suck and tug on the weights and the chain as his cock slaps against his abs with the force he's fucking the air.

His muddled brain knows what you two want, spurred on by the lewd encouragement you two are murmuring against his chest, the pleasure rising like mist that muddles his mind, the pain when Osferth lets go of one bead, only to pull at it again, never giving him the chance to catch his breath, your tongue flicking the nub of his nipple, moving the weight around as he cries and keens and cants his hips like a desperate dog. Everything comes crashing down, his seed exploding against his abs as you two keep playing with him, forcing his orgasm to continue, until you two let him fall on the bed, his tears streaked face red and hot.

Aemond's hips jump when Osferth's calloused palm curls around his erection: he's still as hard as diamond, as if his balls haven't drained themselves until it hurt.

"You were right." He hears him say. "Still ready, like a good boy."

Aemond's lonely eye roams the room as Osferth lazily jacks him with a loose fist, the pleasure now a simmering warmth that makes him want to curl up and doze in it until you two deem him ready to go again. He hiccups a moan when he sees you adjusting the strap around your hips, selecting one of the dildos.

"You did so good, Aemond, my sweet boy." You say with a smile. "Now go on all fours for your reward."

His whole body shudders, for a moment he can't move, can't breathe, imagining all the ways you two are going to have him: his body yours for the whole week end.

"What's your color?"

Osferth's hand stops playing with his cock and travels to his chin to cup it tenderly.

Osferth's chapped lips find his forehead in a tender kiss and then travel to his eyes to drink his tears away gently, in such a different way from how he has mouthed and bitten his nipples, Aemond melts against him, the love he feels for you two overcoming his senses.

"Kasta, kostilus. Green, please." He babbles.

"I'm so proud of you."

He lays pressed between you two for minutes, soaking up in your shared affection, deaf to the world outside.

He burrows in your combined embrace a tad longer, dozing in the love you're giving him. Perhaps five more minutes, a bit more of this tenderness and then you can make him cry and beg again, until his body gives out. He’s fair game until he uses his safeword anyway, isn’t he?

"Sir. Gūrogon nyke sir. Now. Take me now." He murmurs against your chest, his voice dreamy and distant.

"Are you sure?" You ask, he's falling into subspace, you realize.

"Kessa. Jaelan ziry. Yes. I want it now." He whines.

"Spoiled baby." You answer with a smile.

OG!Poly taglist : @fan-goddess, @notyour-valentine, @aegonx, @darylandbethfanforever9 @20thcentwriter @peachysunrize​

Ewanverse taglist: @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @zaldritzosrose

[crystalandparrot]

RC9GN x Reader

New Season

Not my art!!

NEW SEASON OF RC9GN!!! This takes place AFTER the Sorcerer's defeat

If you would like to know what voice actors I had in mind for the new characters, I'll make a skippable chapter about it.

This is very different from my other stories! This (Y/n) is MAINLY based on Donnie from ROTTMNT. She can be seen as autistic, but for the sake of not writing too many details, I'll stick to the basics. If you want some chapters that have more details about autistic characters, I can write a few one shots. I don't want ANY exclusion. Without spoiling too much, her weapon is also VERY much like Donnie's. Lots of attachments, tools, and things that could further a plot line. A lot of the technology will be the same but it will all have different purposes. This is gonna be really out of my comfort zone, as most (Y/n) I write are somewhat based on me. If it ever gets too confusing or to OOC, let me know. I want to clarify, (Y/n) is NOT Donnie, I just don't see a lot of reader inserts or x readers with a truly intelligent reader and I thought it'd be cool. The Donnie inspiration was mainly because Ben Schwartz voices Leo from ROTTMNT and Randy.

I want to preface as well, if this does not become a Reader insert, this will be a slow burn. Again, getting out of my comfort zone.

"Congratulations! You have punched all the graves!"

With their signature move, Howard Weinerman a Randy Cunningham congratulated each other, but before they could completed said, 'slappage', Howard moved away.

"Now that we've finished the final final Grave Punchers game, we should talk about the Ninja situation." Howard stepped away, leaving Randy with his fist in the air.

"Okay, I know I'm gonna sound like a broken record on this but...there is no Ninja situation?" Randy asked, dropping his hand.

"Exactly! There is no Ninja situation!" Howard pointed to Randy's desk, where the mask and Nomicon lay, the book still disguised by a Math book cover. "Your Ninja stuff has been sitting at that desk all Spring Break! The stuff's probably collected dust by now." Howard complained.

"Pfft!" Randy waved his hand and crossed his arms defiantly. "N-no, no it hasn't."

Howard raised an eyebrow and blew a large gust of air at the Nomicon. A cloud of dust flew off and towards the boys, causing them to cough.

"Okay, okay. You might have a point." Randy walked to his desk and grabbed his mask. The red lines pulsed softly. "But, the Sorcerer's gone. And with him gone, McFist has no reason to fight me." Randy waved his hand for emphasis.

"Doesn't he hate the Ninja?" Howard asked.

Randy guffawed, "No one hates the Ninja!"

"I hate the Ninja!" A scratchy voice boomed throughout the circular room. "I just wanna punch him in his stupid Ninja face." He grumbled, slouching in his chair. The short burly man mashed his fists together angrily for emphasis. The man's face turned bright red, starkly contrast from his dark Judge's robe, hence the name they all knew him by.

"Whoo, take 'er easy there, Judge. You'll get wrinkles." The melodic voice came from the dark skinned woman sitting to the right of the Judge. She was staring into a compact mirror, although her counter parts were unaware as to how seeing as her fluffy hair was covering her eyes completely. With one hand holding the mirror, she used her other hand to apply bright red lipstick, the shade on the bottom read, 'Snake's Blood'.

"Yeah, you're starting to look like McFist." The sassy voice came from a tall tan man with brunette hair, elegantly styled.

"I am not-!!" The Judge angrily stood, his face red. He took a deep breath and sat back down, gently setting down his gavel after he angrily held it over his head. "I am not like Hannibal McFist."

"What's with this obsession over the Ninja lately?" The woman asked, setting her compact mirror back in her purse. "We're perfectly fine with how we're operating things now."

"And it's not like the Ninja notices small crimes, he's more focused on Monsters and Robots, right?" The brunette asked.

"Not anymore." The Judge shook his head. "The Sorcerer's gone, and with him out of the way, those Robots are soon to follow. It won't be long before he gets desperate." The Judge reached across the table and grabbed the small remote that sat in the middle. Pressing the red button, a projection appeared on the wall being the skinny brunette. "Last night. The Ninja overturned our truck of stolen money, the cops found it right after." Pictures of a dark figure, with, what looked like, a large mallet standing on top of the overturned truck, red and lights flashing behind them, making the lines on the suit look purple. The Judge turned off the projection.

"So we gotta go bigger." The woman smirked.

"How do you figure?" The brunette asked.

The woman, about to answer, stopped as her phone rang. She pulled it out of her blazer and answered sweetly, "Deputy Mayor Kranski. Oh, hi, hon!" Kranski giggled quietly, holding her other hand up to the phone to try to conceal her words, "I'm in a meeting, honey!" She stood straight once more, hand back at her side. "Yep, meatloaf is on the top shelf."

"Kranski." The Judge rolled his eyes.

"Okay, love you too. Buh-bye." Kranski smiled sweetly, hanging up.

The brunette looked at his nails out of boredom, then looked back up at Kranski. "You were saying?"

"The Ninja is used to dealing with larger threats. So why don't we give him one?" Kranski smirked, folding her hands together.

The Judge's eyes widened, "And how do you suppose we do that?"

"We don't exactly have the funds to do that. And before you start, I'm a rich designer. You want a guy to build robots, you should have gotten my old roommate." The brunette checked his nails again.

"Once again, you offer no help, Damien." The Judge rolled his eyes.

"But, I did hear that your old high school is having an invention convention in a few days. Maybe we could...sponsor one of the brilliant students to help us?" Damien smirked.

"My old high school..." The Judge looked off in the distance, remembering his old days in school. He rubbed his Norrisville alumni ring as he recalled the happy, the sad, the humiliation...oh the humiliation... "That might just be the best idea you've had yet." The Judge smirked.

The three began laughing, first small, then growing to loud chaotic laughter.

"Just you wait, Ninja. We're coming." The Judge smirked.

"I don't know about this (Y/n)."

"Bucky, you're gonna be fine. I'm a scientist—"

"You're fourteen!" Bucky interrupted.

"Still technically a scientist." (Y/n) poked her head up from behind her desk, goggles plastered on her head. The left lens was wide and red, much closer to the metal band connecting the goggles than the right lens. The right lens was slightly extended past the left and was blue. "Move to the right a bit." She commanded, motioning with her hand for her companion to move to his right.

Buck looked down at the ground and shuffled to the right, now more centered on the red 'X' on the ground.

(Y/n) grinned and gave a thumbs up, a noise of confirmation exiting her lips before she resumed her fast typing.

"So what does this do again?" Bucky asked, looking around at the dangerous equipment aimed at his head.

"Oh this? It's just a simple home alarm." (Y/n) waved her hand above her screens so Bucky could see.

"Simple, right." Buck nodded, but did not agree at all. "Has anyone ever told you that you tend to go a little overboard?" Bucky asked.

(Y/n) peeked around her screens again, goggles now over her eyes, "No, why?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued typing.

Bucky anxiously tapped his arms to his side but stopped once one of the large metal arms adjusted near his head.

"Okay!" (Y/n) clapped her hands and stood, slightly scaring Bucky. "If I did this right, you shouldn't get hurt! At least not too bad." (Y/n) mumbled. Flipping her goggles back onto the top of her head, she added some last minute adjustments.

"What was that?" Bucky asked quickly, sweating in all uncomfortable places.

"And 3, 2,-" Before she could press the 'enter' button on her large complicated keyboard, all of her screens changed to a cute emoticon of her face. The emoticon had half lidded eyes, goggles, and a lazy smirk, much like the counterpart that made it.

'School. School. It's time for the most important time of the day. School. School. As Galileo said,"All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered; the point is to discover them."'

(Y/n) turned off the alarm with a sigh. "As much as I'd love to listen to quotes from famous scholars all day, Galileo is right. It's time to discover new truths!" (Y/n) stood, finger raised in the air boldly. She grabbed her (f/c) satchel (A/N: sorry, just a question. Would you guys want you to have more inclusive things like (f/c) or (f/drink) or should I keep it Donnie-esque? Keep the favorite color purple and the favorite drink flavorless juice.) and Bucky's bag. She pulled her phone out of her (f/c) hoodie and began typing quickly with just her thumb, her previous excitement suddenly disappearing. (Y/n) began walking out of the dimly lit room, eyes trained on the screen. "You might want to follow quickly, because I accidentally pressed the button." (Y/n) said as she rushed out of the room.

The beeping of the mechanical appendages and weapons powering up around Bucky, made him gulp.

[obae-me]

Hello, and welcome to another installment of niche content containing another mash of my two special interests. Written out of boredom at the airport. Today's edition, fueled with my excitement of being able to go to none other than Miku Expo 2024, I give:

The Brothers As My Favorite Vocaloid Songs!

Yes, I know, please, quell your excitement. I know everyone was waiting for this one. I will take no criticisms or judgments, only enthusiastic additions.

Warning: While nothing stated in this post needs a full content warning, if anyone decides to look up these songs, many songs themselves have plenty of individual warnings, so please search with caution.

Lucifer:

Now, the song I think he'd actually enjoy listening to is Daughter of Evil. It's got tragedy behind it, the song is a bit more classical/waltzy, exactly the kind of thing he likes. However based off his vibes alone, I'm gonna say Honey I'm Home. Mostly because I love Ghost and Pals but also because religious trauma. And I know other people agree with me because I've seen fanart of it.

Mammon:

I think Mammon would listen to Sand Planet. Oo, or Bring it On. Do I have a detailed explanation as to why? Not really in so many words, but it just seems like something he'd listen to, I feel it in my bones. I will not be taking any questions. Now the song I think he embodies? Wildcard. I mean, the whole motif is about playing cards, it's upbeat and fast paced and I love it and I love Kasane Teto even more.

Levi:

I will physically fight anyone who doesn't think Levi listens to Rolling Girl at least once a day (I won't actually fight anyone but I feel very strongly on this matter). It helps him get through hard times but it also makes him cry. Which...same, Levi, same. But if Leviathan were to be a song itself, I'd have to pass it over to Volt Tackle by Deco*27. Pokémon, talking about fighting and struggling at first to capture someone's love? Oo, or Digital Girl. It's got him written all over it. (Or if I want to be sad, give him Anthropophobia)

Satan:

See, Satan is hard because I never know if I envision him listening to heavy metal or if he prefers soft melodies. And, I mean, I know he can like more than one genre at once, but picking THE song I think he'd listen to is hard... but if I'm going off of what I like as well as gut instinct... Abstract Nonsense. Now, selected off his character, I'd have to pick Hikari Yo. It's just very emotional and desperate and the poor demon boi is like that on the inside quite a lot. WAIT or Pathalogical Facade! Oo, lots of options for Good Ol Satan.

Asmo:

Easy, he'd love Gimmie×Gimmie and I don't think I need any further explanation on this opinion. I actually think Asmo would unironically like a lot of vocaloid songs, personally. And as for his songification, I handpick Aishite, Aishite, Aishite. And I know there's a lot of different people's interpretations to this song and everything and people get very... I guess territorial when it comes to this song (at least from specific corners I've seen) but it makes sense to me. It's a really popular song and it's hauntingly beautiful and it's about wanting to be loved and adored and this is MY post so I can say whatever I want about it.

Beel:

Beel is another one that's hard for me to pin down... I think his music taste (joke not intended) is rather eclectic. He probably actually has no real preference other than more upbeat songs to make it easier to work out to. In which case I get to pick whatever I wish. For him I would make him listen to Happy Halloween. I don't care what time of year it is, it's cute and upbeat and about getting treats and it's one of my favorite songs ever. Now one to embody him?... Goodness that's even harder. I would love to say Appetite of a People Pleaser, but Beel's not a people pleaser... I actually don't know! Maybe I am a sham of a fan. I am open to suggestions for my baby Beel.

Belphie:

You know I have to pick Tokyo Teddy Bear. This mans is too edgy not to listen to it all too often. Plus, it's a classic. And, you know I have to make this all even sadder by giving him the song Error. Because I like to make myself cry. And Belphie needs a good cry, let's be honest with ourselves.

I'm also going to add the Distortanist as an honorable mention for unhinged Lesson 16 Belphie.

[jakowskis]

Day 13 - Favorite ship(s)? Any Torchwood OTPs? Go ahead, gush about them!

dude i multiship so hard in this fandom i dont think there’s a single combination i havent thought of + found a way to enjoy, and that extends to trios. AND i like tw poly. i am mashing them together like barbie dolls. i am having sm fun here in my room

even the ones i don’t exactly “like” still make me Feel Things (more on that later), and even the ones i tend to prefer as friends (more on that later, too), i can still see it if i want to yknow. that’s what’s fun about the slutty bisexy show! woo! they all compel me. 

nonetheless, here are the pairings i like the most, ranked by how often i think of them + how insane they make me. im not gonna gush a ton, actually, bc i get annoyed w how much i talk, so ill keep every explanation under 15 words

owen x ianto: I Want Them Covered in Blood Together (Gnashing My Teeth) (by fall out boy)

owen x andy: golden retriever boyfriend for owen bc sometimes it’s nice to not be angsty (gooseberry who?)

owen x jack: i dont know how they make me feel but they make me feel Something :/

ianto x tosh: THEY’D BE SO CUTE they’d be precious that’s all

tosh x andy: see above. tosh deserves a sweet bf (there are no girls to ship her with 😔)

owen x suzie: they’re mirrors, they’re the same… they intrigue me. also Hawt xD (im bi)

owen x gwen: better as besties imho but im still a bi moron who’s not immune

jack x ianto: overrated imho BUT i do still like them. sigh. dead line speech wahhh

gwen x rhys: i love their relationship troubles n the way it grounds the show. theyre cute

jack x the doctor: sending jack off to harass the doctor so the team can Rest (+ Im Compelled)

jack x gwen: they compel me a little. a teeny bit. not too much but a little

(can u tell i like owen ships. he just has such fascinating relationships w everyone)

ok i lied ill say a couple things. firstly my otp being owento… i’ve talked a bit about it but in brief it started out because i can't resist having at least one enemies/rivals to lovers ship per fandom and ep12 blew my mind a little - and then something just Clicked and they somehow achieved top ten ships of all time status in my brain?? idk what happened there. i usually go for canon-based ships, so having one that kind of lacks substance in the source media (allegedly; i think they’re fruity in canon. but u know what i mean like theyre not ‘canon’ in a show where there is in fact gay TEXT rather than just the subtextual shit theyre doing yanno) and is largely a beast of my own creation (+ the influence of the wonderful handful of fic writers we’ve had over the years) has been rlly fun. 

im largely preoccupied with those two, but i’ve found jack + his relationship with ianto kind of inherently haunts owen x ianto… if you’ve read my fic you know what i mean by that. i can’t see owento existing on its own, like janto fundamentally co-exists next to it so i have to take it into account, and then jack and owen also have a fascinating relationship so i’ve kind of just ended up spending a lot of time thinking about and figuring out owen x ianto x jack in all combinations, because there’s a lot of fascinating stuff going on there from every end. introducing owen to the equation also kind of… ig redeems janto for me, bc i found them offensively underwhelming in s1 and s2. they should be dark and fucked up, and they’re not. owen kind of… brings smth dark and fucked up to the table, and a lot of why i like shipping him with ianto is bc they bring shit out of each other - and owen, for his part, is capable of bringing out ianto’s repressed rage and forcing him to deal with things he’d rather try to compartmentalize and ignore… i find that super compelling, and i also find it useful for breaking down my issues with how jack & ianto’s relationship is initially presented. like, he’s a handy narrative tool for that hfsdjkf. point is, whether i like it or not, jack and his relationships with my girlies (owen n ianto are the girlies <3) is kind of also an intrinsic part of what most of my fixation-oriented brain power goes into thinking about. i’ve been developing this huge fic ‘verse fdhfjk.... Im Very Tired

sometimes i like fun, though, which is what’s behind a lot of those other ships. i’m generally into very dark + angsty + psychological themes, but sometimes fluff and domesticity and occasional silliness is nice, and that’s what’s behind owandy (i have an au where they meet before owen dies) and iantosh (+ gwen x rhys) as my sort of… alternative endgame. my comfort ‘au’. not an au, exactly, but an alternative fluffier world to the darker owento-based one i’ve crafted and spend most of my time thinking about fdshkfj. i also like sending jack off to go bother the doctor, in this ‘au’, because unfortunately i don’t think he’s conductive to the team’s happiness. i think he needs to find his own way to heal and that should probs include the doctor, considering how obsessed jack is with them + how much he needs to unpack All That Shit he has going on before he can be any sort of truly positive force in the lives of the tw team. so for now he’s banned from the polycule for jack crimes. listen, i love that torchwood’s inherently sad and dark and lonely, it’s what compels me, and i’m ultimately glad that’s the core of the show - but it doesn’t have to be. sometimes i enjoy a nicer alternative. i think they could fix it. and that’s what fandom + fanfic is for. 

i also have several ot3s i enjoy, mostly owen ones. i think he deserves a bf + a gf, i think it’d fix him. put that bitch in a bisexual sandwich and maybe he'd behave. in particular, i love owen x tosh x ianto, it’s the only place i ship owen/tosh bc i think ianto would keep owen in check and they’d all better each other. i love owen x tosh x andy for similar reasons. can you tell the four characters im biased towards fhdskj. (i love gwen just as much but she’s kind of doing her own thing with just rhys and jack imo fdkfjsd. perhaps torchwood is composed of two polycules and jack is the link between both of them)

[washa]

as @xanyiaz has posted, i am listening to Avior's playlist (finally) ‼️ So here are some of my favourite things i've said

spoilers ahead for videos 1 to 5 (It's not separated so. Can't tell you what belong to what video sorry 💔)

(i'll probably post a part 2 later)

I'm gonna fight him

he's talking abt closeknit isn't he???

im crying he rifted into hell?? 😭😭

BROS GOT SOME MENTAL WARFARE SO CREATED A HELL??

oh god just rift me back please

i might actually start sobbing if be keeps complimenting Aria

Did he just fall into the fucking circle or fire.???

HELP I CALLED IT LMFAOAOAO HE DID FALL

i imagined he just flopped onto the ground like a pancake

HELP AM I BAIT RN??? WDYM TOUCH IT ⁉️

Working conditions my ass you are just a walking OSHA violation

YOU CANT JUST SAY THAT AND GO "well it's your choice 😊"

and i wanna marry his vocabulary

ok i touched it now what?? do i start spouting shit

PROCREATE??? you wanna try or something??

Wait why are we talking about children???

also ur not imperfect doll just stubborn and slightly an ass

he's basically in quarantine rn

yeah starlight shut up i love dramatic pacing

he just sips on whatever feelings he wants like somebody coulda lost their dog and he just like "oh yummy sad nom nom"

HELP HE JUST FOUND A PERSON W MENTAL PROBLEMS AND GOES YUMMY FOOD

he just knocked you out and threw you in a meridian and waved you off w the same energy as "have a nice day of school kids 🤗"

dreamwalkers are basically jigglypuffs but with more pain then

its not everyday i get trapped in hell w a demon who got clickbaited by a cult member

again not really seeing why we cant just say fuck it and jump into said meridian (yes the foreshadowing is hilarious ik 😕)

why is he talking to me like im in labour "take a breath before you push again" my ass

HELLO AM I STUCK FINGERING THE DAMN MERIDIAN?? PULL ME OUT PLEASE??

wait if i die do i just respawn like a minecraft character?? do i just appear again at my set point or something 😭

HELP I JUST CATAPULTED BACK?? I just recoiled away from the merdian and ejected into the ring pits of hell??? Did my body make a boiing sound like those spring doorstops??

ofc i broke my damn leg. ofc i broke my damn leg 😮‍💨

ain't it hot rn? like fire is right below us 😭

What else is broken??? yk despite my fucking mental state probably

Ok ok Avior dearie, shit, is not what you say when treating a probably VERY broken arm. Like an arm whose bones would've probably put a bowl of mash potatoes to shame.

Wait was starlight like walking down the fucking street and a rift just appeared underneath them and they just fell down the damn thing???

Well ik why im here, because, perhaps, crazy idea, it was bc you rifted me here ‼️

guesses and theories?? what is this?? fucking blues clues???

by your sink hole logic, if we just lay here and wait for help it would be the best choice rn. bc like the more we crawl out, the more parts of the wall will fall in and trapping us more

NOT THE I JUST WANNA GO HOME PLEASE HES SO SWEET

the most cliche scratch on the cheek AND THE TOUCHING URGH😭

god he's like a shitty sour patch kid. Sour then salty, then sweet and hopefully not gone iygwim.

[astrito]

Completos are a Chilean variant of the hot dog, one of many variants in Latam. The most common form you'll see in the streets or small restaurants (don't eat a completo for 5 dollars, you're getting scammed.) is the Italiano, named after the colors of Italy's flag.

The Italiano is comprised of a bun, a sausage which can be boiled or fried, optionally chucrut (sauerkraut, finely chopped lactofermented cabagge), diced tomatoes, mashed avocado, mayonaise, ketchup and finally, mustard. Of course, you can leave out any ingredients you don't like, but that's the blueprint.

Now, why the hell am I giving you this piece of mildly interesting Chilean trivia?

🥹

I put this under a read more because it's so cringe... (I'm literally not doing anything bad) (Still embarassed) (Still gonna share because I liked it)

Right now I'm waiting for my 9PM bus (at 7PM lol) (edit after writing: 8PM! jeez) but even before that, like an hour ago, I rushed to the nearest restaurant, and as always, the completo is a saviour because it was the cheapest thing I could get.

Gosh I was really hungry or it was really really good. Great, even. The mayo was homemade, too!

I was silent while eating and this thought popped into my head, "Shaplin would love to eat a completo." (SHAPLIN JUMPSCARE)

I really love her and if I tried to deny it I'd look even more deranged, lmao.

Thinking of that made me remember all the party nights eating and making 'em, and aaah... it's a really sweet drawing idea.

Right now I imagine my sona and Shaplin having the kitchen be an absolute mess, because I could have said "Yo. We should make some of these things I eat back home" and Shaplin foolishly agreed, knowing she can't even make Mac and Cheese... plus even if the food I cook is good, it's at the expense of clean spaces hehe 😔

Then, after everything is made (and the kitchen has been cleaned before Swatch could have an aneurysm looking at the mess), setting up the table for so many Swatchlings sounds funny, but at the same time kind of cute! They're a big family <3

Aside from the completos the arrangement I assume would be the same as one where people eat hot dogs (if you even do?! I have no idea!!), Snacks and sauces, sodas... Monster. (I'm normal about that energy drink leave me olone!!! /j)

Eating and making conversation, joking around as it's usual. It warms my heart to think about that.

Now it's less about the food and more about the people you've made it for.

I believe cooking for and having something to eat with someone is a great way of expressing affection, so these ideas are. Yeah. They're heartwarming, as I've said before 🥹

After eating? Oh, I really love playing videogames. I love Mario Party so you bet I put that before anyone else could even think of the console WKEJWKKEJW

Remembering Francis and Queen it's really funny to me, believing Shaplin would pick Princess Peach LMFAO. I of course, will always go with my boy Luigi >:)

(On that note, Colette would pick Rosalina! Her reason is "She looks like a very nice lady!!" while mine is that because her color is Cosmic Latte and Rosalina's whole character revolves around space, it only makes sense, don't you think?)

...Anyway, at this point I'm only rambling! Which isn't bad, not at all, but there's the point where I'll start making 0 sense!

I'm sorry for being SOOO normal about that bird. It will happen again 😔🙏

Astro OUT‼️‼️‼️

[tinyshe]

Garden Report 23.01.07

So ... Happy New Year!

Was out in the garden new years day feeling rather sad but the day was lovely and I wanted force myself Out. I worry about the ancient fruitless plum tree. There is a section of heartwood exposed and conks are thriving. We always talk about taking it out but might have to be the year to avoid liability. This year has just begun but it has been really difficult and I don’t want it. If nothing else, it has to be topped heavily. The little sapling next to it is budding up to bloom so it needs to happen soon if the weather allows.

This is going to be the year that there we some heavy pruning, so much so that I am thinking we might have to rent a chipper. I like chips and need chips (both wooden for the garden and potato-kind for my belly ;)  but that’s another avenue for discussion!).

I think I have tried everything possible under the sun and am reverting back to some older gardening styles. Mind you, this is all just in my head for now. I am wanting to take out the grow boxes but then again I want to raise them up higher. But, for navigation purposes, and not being boxed in (no pun intended) they are going. Most of the wooden box edges have rotted and all building materials are too expensive.  I think I am going to go with a perpetual hotbed with French intensive style of growing . I really feel this is going to be the best option for my location after everything I have tried. It will raise the ‘soil’ temperature, keep moisture in the soil on an even keel, keep compost in direct line to consumption of plants and hopefully, less work for higher yields ... and we all like those higher yields/less work ratios! I hate hugell mounds due to the vermin population tunneling and setting up housekeeping so I am hoping that a high hotbed will not have the same problems. Fingers crossed! Time will tell if I can get this project launched.

Garlic that we planted late is popping up just as wonderfully strong ... as if we weren’t late; it don’t care! its super garlic! old variety aka heirloom & robust. I really need to plant more garlic and onions because for some reason they are MIA at the grocers. Need more grow space -- Looking at perhaps taking out a pergola that is next to the area of the summer house. I hope that opens up more space for container growing if I can beat down the monster kiwi who came back From The Dead With Vengeance! The bamboo and kiwi are now courting cousins of the third kind and a bane to my sense of permaculture garden dwellers. I can yell Not In My Garden but obviously, yes, in my garden, in spades [cue theme song mash up Who Ya Gonna Call from Ghost Busters and Bad Boys from Cops].

Hens, I love my hens. For Christmas I got a ceramic art tile that says “I get by with a little help from my hens”. We jest that they are my therapy chickens but you know, its not far from the truth. Maybe I can get just a few more (chicks) and slowly integrate ... I’ve done that before but its like some of the ‘blended family’, they tolerate each other and pretend to play well with each other while being watched BUT technically have two micro flocks.

The Worm friends, I confess, I have neglected. I just have not been mobile enough to be fussing over them. They are probably happier that I am not disturbing them. They are hardy stock and don’t complain (unlike my vocal chickens!). When/if I do my hot mounds/hot beds I will introduce part of the population to those situations. I had divided my vermiculture holdings into two boxes so I will probably take the older box for the beds since that box will probably be composted the most (?) idk. Have to wait and assess.

I have my plastic ammo can of seeds that I keep my newest seeds in. I have my older seeds in a shoe box and need to Do-A-Dump garden which is kind of fun. I mix all my old seeds and broadcast sow into a single bed. If it grows, huzzah! If it don’t, it won’t and just nestles itself into the compost cycle of things. I have to do this every couple of years because saving, sharing and purchasing happens more than what I can use for my small patch at one time so it all sort of just gathers up and accumulates to a point of action is necessary ... I could make seed bombs but my experience it, they don’t do well. Cute idea, big on the feel good aspect but really not best situation for the germinating seeds. So we do the Do-A-Dump so they have a better chance of surviving.

So this is the update of the garden doings -- most of it just plans while we wait through the Winter months. Hope everyone is planning and dreaming of gardening, both big and small.

[werewolfbansheelove]

Mash Up (Glee + Puckleberry Sets)

The episode begins with several Glee Club members being threatened with a slushie. First to Tina who flinched away, Mercedes who screamed it. 

Mercedes: My weave!

Then to Rachel at her locker who flinched with closing her eyes. But the person walked away from her and got Finn right in the face. Finn snapped and stopped Dave Karofsky. 

Finn: What the hell, Karofsky!

Dave: Oh, I’ve wanted to do that ever since fifth grade when you made fun of me for getting pubes. Now that you’ve joined Lullaby Lee's and insperminated the queen of the Chastity Ball and dropped below us hockey dudes on the food chain? It’s open season. 

Quinn (angrily): Screw you, Karofsky! You and your Neanderthal puck-heads are nothing!

Finn shove Dave back but Dave did the same. 

Finn: You’re gonna pay for this, dude!

Dave: No, I’m not. You two don’t have the juice anymore. Welcome to the new world order.

Dave then leaves them alone. 

——–

In the choir room, Quinn was cleaning Finn’s face. 

Quinn: This is a disaster. Our reputation as McKinley High's "it" couple is in serious jeopardy if we don’t find some way to be cool again, Finn.

Some glee kids were watching the two interact. 

Kurt: The Slushee war has commenced.

Mercedes: And if Finn and Quinn got nailed, none of us are safe.

Will enters the room. 

Will: Okay, guys. We’re a little behind for sectionals thanks to our Sue Sylvester detour. But you guys seem to really enjoy doing mash-ups, right? And I’m gonna keep you guys fired up. Plus, there’s an important lesson to be learned with mash-ups. Sometimes things are so different, they don’t feel like they go together. 

Finn: Or Glee Club and football.

Will: Exactly. But you’ve proven that it is a great combination. (Hands out music sheets) So here is my personal favorite song. And your homework for the week is to find an unexpected mash-up to go with it.

Kurt: “Bust a Move”?

Mercedes: Yeah, this song is old school.

Will: All right. Um, Artie.

Artie (quietly): Yeah?

Try to follow along on the bass. Finn, take us through it.

Finn: Uh, I’m sorry, Mr. Schuester. I got corn syrup in my eye.

Will: Okay. Uh, Puck. How about it?    Looking at the mohawk boy. 

Puck: I don’t really groove on Young MC.

Rachel: I am shocked at the lack of leading-man ambition in this room right now. 

Will (takes off his dress shirt): It’s okay, Rachel. I guess I’m gonna have to show these guys how it’s one.

The members got excited. 

Will: Bust it!

Will: This here's a tale for all the fellas, tryin' to do what those ladies tell us. Get shot down 'cause you’re over zealous, play hard to get, females get jealous. Okay smartie, go to a party girls are scantily clad and showin' body. A chick walks by, you wish you could sex her but you’re standin' on the wall like you was Poindexter. Your movie's showin', so you’re going,  ould care less about the five you’re blowin' (Uh). Theater gets dark just to start the show and then you spot a fine woman sittin' in your row (Uh). She’s dressed in yellow, she says Hello come sit next to me, you fine fellow (Uh) You run over there without a second to lose and what comes next, hey bust a move. 

Quinn, Tina and Mercedes with New Directions Girls: If you want it, you got it, Uh If you want it, baby, you got it

Will with Artie and New Directions Boys: Just bust a move!

Quinn, Tina and Mercedes with New Directions Girls: If you want it, you got it, Uh, if you want it, baby, you got it, Uh.

Will (New Direction Boys): Your best friend Harry has a brother Larry in five days from now he’s gonna marry. He’s hopin' you can make it there if you can cause in the ceremony you’ll be the best man. You say "neato," check your libido and roll to the church in your new tuxedo, the bride walks down just to start the wedding. And there’s one more girl you won’t be getting So you start thinkin', then you start blinkin', a bride maid looks and thinks that you’re winkin'. She thinks you’re kinda cute so she winks back and then you’re feeling really fine cause the girl is stacked Reception's jumpin, bass is pumping look at the girl, and your heart starts thumping. Says she wants to dance to a different groove, now you know what to do, G, (Bust a move). 

Quinn, Tina and Mercedes with New Directions Girls: You want it, you got it (Uh) If you want it, baby, you got it.

Will with Artie and New Directions Boys: Just bust a move!

Quinn, Tina and Mercedes with New Directions Girls: If you want it, you got it (Uh) If you want it, baby, you got it. Uh, uh, uh, hey, huh, huh, ya, huh. Huh, hey, huh, hey, uh, uh, hey, ya, ya.

—––—

Rachel is practicing What a Girl Wants in her bedroom with Puck playing guitar. 

Puck (voiceover):  I know this looks weird. But wait until you see what happens next.

Puck: My ears are starting to hurt. Can we take a break?

Rachel (puts her brush down): Okay.

Puck: You wanna make out?

Rachel (stunned): Sure.

Puck (voiceover): I know. It’s whack. But I also remember what my history teacher told us last semester: Only Nixon can go to China. I have no idea what she meant, but it reminded me of when my family ordered Chinese food and sat down together for our traditional Simchas Torah screening of Schindler's List. That’s really when all of this started. It wasn’t the most normal tradition but we did it for my mom. (Puck's sister screamed and ran out the room when the guns go off.) As she was giving me my sweet-and-sour pork she said something that really hit home. 

Puck's mom: You’re no better than them, Noah. Why can’t you date a Jewish girl? 

Puck (voiceover): That night, I had the strangest dream. I knew it was a dream, because there’s no way Rachel could’ve climbed up the wall outside my window with no shoes on. 

(Rachel entered Puck's room wearing a necklace that represents Jewish. IDK!) 

Puck (voiceover): When I woke up, I knew it was more than a dream. It was a message from God. Rachel was a hot Jew, and the good Lord wanted me to get into her pants. 

(Puck approached Rachel at school with a slushie and she closed her eyes waiting for the impact. 

Puck: I picked it up for you when I was buying dip. It’s grape. I know that’s your favorite, because the last time I tossed a grape one in your face you licked your lips before you cleaned yourself off. 《Rachel took it》 Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to work together on some mash-up ideas.) 

Puck (voiceover): Things happened pretty fast from that point. Getting her to make out with me was easier than I thought. Guess she’s kind of desperate. 

Rachel pulled away imagined Finn she was kissing. 

Puck (but with Finn’s face): You okay, baby?

Rachel (gets off him.): I can’t do this.

Puck: Why? We’re a couple of good-lookin' Jews. It’s natural.

Rachel: I-I can’t give myself to someone who isn’t brave enough to sing a solo. If you don’t have the guts to do that, then how are you gonna be bold enough to deal with the ups and downs of loving an admittedly high-maintenance girl like me?

Puck: Are you questioning my badassness? Have you seen my guns?  (Goes to show her but Rachel stops him.) 

Rachel: Noah, I’m sorry, but your arms are lovely, but I just don’t see us working out. 

–——

Will (enters the choir room): So any ideas for the mash-up? (No one answered.) Anybody? No. Oh, come on, guys! It’s like you’re daring me to start dancing. 

Mercedes: Oh no! 

Puck (with a guitar on him.): I’ve been working on something.

Will: Oh, yeah?

Puck: It’s my personal tribute to a musical Jewish icon. (That got Rachel’s attention.) 

Will: Uh, fantastic. Let’s hear it.     (Sits in the back of the seats.)  

Puck plays the tune to Neil Diamond's Sweet Caroline. 

Puck: Where it began, I can’t begin to know when, but then I know it’s growing strong. Was in the spring and spring became summer who’d believe you’d come along Hands, touching hands, reaching out touching me, touching you

Puck with New Directions: Oh, sweet Caroline good times never seem so good. I’ve been inclined to believe it never would. Oh, sweet Caroline good times never seem so good Oh, I’ve been inclined to believe it never would oh no no..

Puck was serenading to Rachel and earning disapproving looks from Finn and Santana. The performance is well-received. 

—–——

Puck and Rachel are walking, arm-in-arm, together down the hallway. 

Rachel: ...making Tommy Tune the first to win Tony gold in four categories.

Puck (not interested): Totally interesting. You know, you never told me what you thought of my mash-up solo. 

Rachel: You’re still missing the elusive high "B." That’s a brass ring for a baritenor. I had to work on it for weeks with Finn before he got it. You’re a great performer, Noah. I just wanna say how proud I am to have you on my arm in front of the whole high school. 

Unexpectedly, Puck gets hit in the face with a slushie by Karofsky. Rachel took Puck to the girl's washroom to help him clean up. 

Puck: You’re pretty good at this.

Rachel: I’ve had a lot of practice. You’re actually a lot luckier than me and Quinn. Your head is shaved.

Puck: I’m really sorry I ever did this to you.

Rachel: It’s okay.

Puck: No, it isn’t. No one deserves this feeling. You know what the worst part is? It’s not the burning in your eyes or the way the Slushee drips all the way into your underpants. It’s the humiliation. I feel like I could burst into tears at any moment. Rachel...I’m sorry, but today when the clock chimes 3:30.

Rachel: You’re choosing football over Glee, which means we probably can’t be together anymore.

Puck: Yes. Damn, I feel like such a bad Jew.    (Rachel kisses his forehead.) 

—–—

The Glee Club is waiting anxiously in the choir room for the guys. 

Will: Hey, guys. 

The clock turns to 3:30 and they all looked to the door. 

Will: I guess they’re not coming. I’m really sorry, guys.

Mercedes: I can’t believe this. I thought they were our friends. How can they just abandon us?

Then in walk, Mike and Matt who Santana and Brittany approach giving hugs. 

Santana: Hi. I’m glad you made it.

Brittany: You scared me.

Mike: Good to see you, huh?

Then Puck walks in, shocking everyone, Rachel approached him. 

Rachel: Are you... sure about this, Noah? I mean, choosing us over the team means you might get a Slushee in your face every day.

Puck: Bring it.

The two approached the other but...

Artie: Where’s Finn?

—–—–

With a slushie in hand, the Glee members were wearing raincoats, gasping to hide their faces. But the person went Kurt and Rachel who gasped at the slushie in hand.  Kurt turned around looking at the slushie. 

Kurt: Do it. 

The person was Finn.  

Finn: I really don’t want to, honestly. I know how picky you are about what products you use on your face. 

Kurt: But you’ve been getting so much pressure from the gorillas on the football team. I guess they didn’t appreciate me resigning from the team and choosing Glee.

Finn: Probably would have went over better if you didn’t announce it in the showers. 

Mercedes, Tina and Artie approached the other three at Kurt’s locker. 

Mercedes: You are not gonna Slushee on my man Kurt.

Rachel (glaring at the boy) : Why wouldn’t he? He’s made his choice. He doesn’t care about us losers anymore.

Finn: No, that’s not true. It’s just that if I don’t do it the guys on the team are gonna kick the crap out of me.

Kurt: Well, we can’t have that, can we?        Kurt took the slushie from Finn. 

Finn: What are you doing?

Kurt: It’s called taking one for the team. (throws the slushie in his own face) Now get out of here, and take some time to think whether or not any of your friends on the football team would have done that for you. (Finn leaves) Someone get me to a day-spa stat!  Kurt is dragged off to the girls' bathroom by Rachel, Mercedes, and Tina. 

—–—–

Rachel visits Puck, who is watching football practice from the bleachers. 

Rachel: You miss it? 

Puck: Hell, no.

Rachel: I hope you didn’t choose Glee over football because of me.

Puck: Why?

Rachel: Because I don’t think this relationship is gonna work out.

Puck: It’s cool. I was gonna break up with you anyway.

Rachel: No, you weren’t.

Puck: Yes, I was. You won’t even let me touch your boobs. It’s Finn, right? (Rachel was quiet.) He’s never gonna leave Quinn. Not with that baby in her belly. 

Rachel: You like her, don’t you? I can see you staring at her when I’m staring at Finn. Is that why you joined Glee? To be closer to her?

Puck: Like I said, they’re never breaking up. God, what’s the matter with me? I’m a stud, and I can’t even hold on to a chick like you? No offense. Why don’t girls like me?

Rachel: Because you’re kind of a jerk. No offense. I just think you want it too much which is something I can relate to. I want everything too much. Our relationship was built on a fantasy. Like every other one in my life. I think I just agreed to us being together because I thought it would make Finn jealous. (puts a hand on his shoulder) I just hope we can still be friends.

Puck: We weren’t friends before.         He leaves her for her to stay on the bleachers. 

–——–—

Finn has returned to Glee Club, and gives everyone slushies as a way to say sorry. 

Finn: So, what do you think about my welcome back gift to the club, huh, guys?        Everyone grabbed one for themselves. 

Rachel: Thanks for the Slushees, Finn. They’re delicious.

Kurt: And loaded with empty calories. You know why they call them Slushees? Because your butt looks like one if you have too many of them.

Finn: I’d like to propose a toast. To Mr. Schue. You were right about Glee Club and football being a killer combination. 

Everyone cheered and clicked their cups. 

Artie: Mr. Schue, I am sorry to report that we’ve all been remiss about completing our assignment this week.

Mercedes: Yeah, none of us could find a good groove for "Bust a Move."

Artie: And I personally feel like a failure.

Will: Well, that’s okay, guys. Because I feel like the lesson landed.

And that’s what’s important and we are glad to have you back, Finn.

Quinn was in blue dress and cardigan, quite upset.   Will: You okay, Quinn?

Quinn:  Do I look okay? I’m devastated. Now that I’m off the Cheerios, I’ll start every day with a Slushee facial.

Everyone: Yeah. Whoo!

Will: That’s okay if that happens, Quinn, because there are 11 of your friends right here who are gonna be more than happy to help clean you off.

Mercedes: That's right, girl.

Will rubs his head.  Will: Mmm, brain freeze. I can’t imagine getting hit in the kisser with one of these.

That gave the glee members an idea. 

Artie: You’ve never been hit by a Slushee before, Mr. Schue?

Will: Um... All right, guys. We’re a team. Bring it on. Gimme your best shot.      He opened his arms out.  

Rachel (taking the straw out.): One, two, three.

Everyone took their straws out and Will yelled as the members threw the slushies in Will's direction and it got on his clothes, face and hair. 

Will: Oh. All right. From the top.    Taking a sip of his slushie, everybody laughed. 

[theartisticgamingwitch]

Any habits you like to share with the class?

OK welcome to the 7 deadly sins of my art farting career. Hopefully i will not get the punishments equal to these said sins in my life So buckle up cause were starting hot with lust.

Lust is a complicated one because im not twisting the anatomy to the point its not legit accurate. Looking at you superhero comics and games that are just boobs and ass mostly mortal kombat is a fall of this.. i just.. can't draw ugly people. Dont get me wrong i honestly am trying! Its just complicated. And dont worry i may write smut but i cant draw it either.. Ill try if im brave enough but i know better not to put it on my portfolio...or here..

ENVY ohhh boy do i have it. and i have ways to control this lil demon! Its okay to compare yourself to the masters/ other people BUT, not to the point where you think copying them 1000% will make you just like them! Mish mash your favorites to make your own style. Thats how i learned mine. Compete with yourself not with someone else. Take breaks from other peoples work if they make you the sads and focus on your end goals. ok now BACK IN THE CORNER ENVY!

Okay whos next *sees sloth playing animal crossing* Right. you.. I tend to get unmotivated by projects easily if im stressed the hell out or i dont like somthing in my sketchbook.. so i just put it away and go play some video games. IMHO this isnt 100% a bad thing.. we all need a break for a kit kat bar every now and then however HOWEVER!, Making excuses for weeks at a time effects your artwork later, So this is why you need to focus on the game but also allow yourself to take maybe 15 min breaks to do anything else besides video games. Water your plants, Play with your pets, Party in your room, EAT SOME FOOD!

Next is Gluttony and taking on too many things at once is a good and bad thing all at the same time. Welcome to the world of ADHD. This is mostly bad for me cause im a people pleaser and i want to please everyone except myself (yes my dad raised me as a doormat im slowly growing a spine.)

Now the biggest sin i have out of all of them...almost killed my chances of getting into this school.. PRIDE. Its okay to take pride in your work but, you have to learn when to step back and give what the client wanted..even if its in graphite form. Bite your lip and hold those words you were gonna say and just give what they wanted. You might just get in.

Next is greed and like i said before im a people pleaser not a greedy person so this one is off the table kind of however, i have seen people on my artstation and my linkdin accounts trying to work with me cause im going to this school and they gave off red flags. One was even a huhbot trying to sell me makeup. o

*looks at wrath* Okay buddy youre up! Now im not the 100% type to use blood, violence, and edgyness into my work. Its more i hate my own work and it drives me insane to where i wanna crumple it up, yeet it in the bin and start over..and this cycle can continue for a few days till i go into sloth mode. Dont be so harsh on yourself to where what your drawing is no fun! Try to think about it from another view if its not what you expected. You might be surprised on how it comes out.

[idungoofed]

Thanks for the tag MJ! These are fun💕

Nickname: Me and my bestie have been calling each other Duck for the past 15+ years so let’s go with that

Sign: Gemini

Height: 5”8

Last thing you googled: Cat names! I adopted a cat yesterday, he came with the name Smokey, and we wanted to change it but still undecided😅

Song stuck in my head: Growing On Me - The Darkness

Number of followers: 131 might have a few bots hidden in there though

Amount of sleep: oh god maybe like 6 hours? Cat boy wanted attention all night and I am weak to good bois

Dream job: Literally anything that would allow me to work in my art studio all day

Wearing: My pjs! I got up like half hour ago

Movie/ book that summaries you: oh jeeze, I dunno?! Baseketball? I’m not even gonna try explain why though

Fav song currently: Don’t really have one at the moment, just doing my usual shit of listing to the same music as I have for the past 20 odd years

Aesthetic: I thought about this for ages and I’m just going to be boring and say I don’t have one, or at least don’t know what I would call it. I’m still wearing the same shit as I have for the last decade which is a mash up of bohemian emo stoner. Oh look I found the name haha

Favourite author: Who to choose, who to choose?!? I’m reading Stephen King at the mo, love him, Tolkien because duh, I just wanna insert myself in his world, but I read loads of Holly Black at the beginning of last year- oh! And Jo Watson, great romcom writer.

Random fun fact: Cats can be left or right pawed

Np tags!: @emrysdreams @miss-mandalorian @imaswellkid @heythere-mel

ASK GAME???

Ok sure. I don’t usually do these things but I just can’t say no to @shirks-all-responsibilities 🥰

Nickname: I am not, nor have I ever been, cool enough to have a nickname

Sign: I’ve always been partial to the Deer Crossing sign, they look like they’re having fun - jk Cancer though in terms of sea creatures I’m more octopus than crab

Height: 5’10” (no I do not play basketball or rugby, I trip over my own two feet at least twice a day, sure I’ll get that thing down from the top shelf for you)

Last thing you googled: Greta vs Andrew (ICONIC ❤️)

Song stuck in my head: Guns and Ships from Hamilton (FOR THREE DAYS SEND HELP)

Number of followers: haven’t done a porn bot sweep lately so I’ll say probably 80? Hello friends and sexy ladies with vaguely suspicious links in their bios 👋

Amount of sleep: as in last night? This week? My entire life? Doesn’t matter the answer is Never Enough

Dream job: Writing from a lil hobby farm in the middle of nowhere with a couple horsies and some chickies and a garden and a lot of trees and maybe like a babbling brook or something

Wearing: a hoodie and leggings

Movie/book that summarizes you: Chime by Franny Billingsley (I would like to live in this book please and thanks)

Fav song currently: impossible to say, depends on the mood of the minute (NOT Guns and Ships I’m sorry Lin Manuel but I’m now DREAMING this song)

Aesthetic: uhhhh slightly alternative lumberjack? Idk I’m a former emo kid and Canadian so there’s a lot of weird hair colours and flannel involved 

Favourite author: also impossible to say, but my favourite genre of authors is Fanfic

Random fun fact: the excretion from a snail’s foot is so thick it can crawl along the edge of a knife. Thanks Uncle John’s Bathroom Reader.

No pressure tags:

@dontletyourchildrenwatchthis

@yourcoolauntie

@mildlyhopeless

@tionmeh

@leithatnight

[cloudteawrites]

chapter: seven ( 12.3k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The sound of your phone ringing rips you from sleep. You sit bolt upright, confusion and panic dousing you like twin buckets of ice water. You’d been having a nightmare about something, but you can’t remember what. The tattered ends of it are already slipping away, just out of reach. You don’t chase after them.

You fumble for your phone in the dark, fingers groping uselessly at your blankets until they close around it. The bright white light from your screen blinds you as you flip it over and you blink blearily, rubbing at your eyes with one hand and trying to answer with the other.

“Hello?” you rasp, mashing the speaker button. “Who is this?”

“Apologies for disturbing your sleep, ma’am.” A woman’s voice crackles over the other end of the line. You can hear exhaustion dripping off every word. “This is Officer Kwon from the Namhyeon-dong precinct of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Force.”

You squint into the dark expanse of your bedroom, a little frown on your face as you struggle to process what she’s saying. “....okay?”

“I’m calling because we’ve got two of your hybrids in custody.”

You blink slowly. “Hmmmm, I don’t think so...” you mumble through a yawn. “They’re all in bed.”

“We ran their numbers through the registry and you were pinged as the owner of both.” You hear papers shuffling and her voice get distant as she transfers the receiver to her shoulder to free up a hand. “We’ve got a rabbit calling himself Jeongguk and a Seokjin who the rabbit says is a deer-” She sighs. “Listen, I’m at the end of my rope here. They won’t tell me where they came from and the phone number of the business they were registered to before you is out of service. They’re hurt pretty bad, worse than what we can take care of here at the station. We can’t get them any sort of medical care without their guardian’s permission, so-”

Your eyes glaze over as you groggily connect the dots.

A deer and a rabbit.

Not canine, not feline.

Other.

Other.

You shove the covers down your legs and kick them over the side of the bed. “I’m on the way,” you tell her, already adding up the distance between your building and Namhyeon-dong. It’d take an hour to get all the bus transfers you needed- your eyes narrow as you squint at the time on your phone. 3:27 AM. You’d have to get a cab. Your stomach twists at the thought of the fare, but you shove the feeling down. This was no time to be thrifty. “Do whatever you need to.”

The officer exhales in relief. You can practically hear the tension leave her shoulders. “There’s a little hybrid clinic in the neighborhood. I’ll see if I can get the vet up and convince them to go.”

“Thank you,” you breathe. She gives you the address and you type it into your notes app, reading it back to her twice to make sure you got it right. She hangs up with a promise to see you soon and your phone locks, leaving you alone in the blue-black gloom of an early morning.

This wasn’t great. This wasn’t great any way you sliced it. You’d thought you’d have an extra two weeks to get the canines settled and all five hybrids to at least not want to kill each other. That’d been the plan, at least, when you’d sequestered yourself in your bedroom without telling Jimin and Taehyung goodnight or doing any introductions. Now the others were coming and you were on borrowed time. You drag your hands down over your face. “What are we gonna do?” Nothing but silence answers you.

When you were a kid and you’d had anything big before you- a massive school project you’d waited til the last moment to start, having to walk yourself to the market because your mom was too sick to go, a hard conversation with a friend- your mom had always told you to break it down into smaller pieces. Make the big thing small; do what you can for now. So, that’s what you do.

You shove your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, tug your backpack out from under your bed and grab a pair of socks. You slide them on as quickly as you can and head for the door. You tug it open and try to rush through, already on the way to your next small thing- but you stumble over a shoulder and go down.

You let out a yelp of surprise that quickly morphs into one of pain as your forehead knocks against the other person’s. Your hands slam down on either side of their head and their own fly up to your waist to steady you. You blink down at them, willing your eyes to adjust to the dark.

Hoseok is beneath you. He’s squinting up at you, his hair in disarray and his cheeks puffy with sleep. “Ow,” he croaks.

You wince. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, rubbing the spot on his forehead your own knocked against on autopilot. He seems to wake up a little at that, eyebrows inching up his forehead. You snatch your hand back. “Ah, sorry. I was worried I hurt you-”

“I’m okay,” he rasps, his voice still thick with sleep. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“Okay.” You disentangle yourself from him and rise back to your feet. He struggles to get up too, mirroring you. The blankets pooled around his hips fall to his feet. You frown at the picture he makes, his shoulders slumped from exhaustion and indents on his cheek from the hardwood. “Did you...did you sleep out here?”

His ears fall and he lowers his head a bit between his shoulders. “Yeah,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I did…”

You wrote off a lot of the behavior the boys exhibited that you didn’t understand as just a part of them being hybrids. When Taehyung affectionately headbutted you, or Jimin always hopped up on counters or Yoongi lapped from glasses instead of sipping, you just accepted it and stashed it away to google later- but this was a little more concerning. Did he not feel safe in his room? You’d tried to put him and Namjoon as far away from the felines as you could, but you also knew the cats weren’t thrilled about sharing their space. You hoped they hadn’t made him feel too unwelcome after you’d collapsed into bed.

“Is everything okay?” His ears twitch as the smell of your worry fills his nose. He leans forward and for a moment you think he’s gonna close the distance between you- but he pulls back.

“No,” he answers. You feel your heart sink. “I just...your room is closest to the front door.” You blink at him slowly, not following. You don’t know how his sight is in the dark, but he must see the confusion furrowing your brow,because he continues. “Your room is the only one on the first floor and it’s close to the living room and front door. We all sleep upstairs. If someone broke in, they’d get you first.” He tosses a finger down at the blankets. “I was sleeping here so that wouldn’t happen.”

“Nobody’s gonna get me, Hoseok,” You soothe, trying to assuage his fears. “I’m nobody-”

“You don’t know that,” he argues back. “And you’re not ‘nobody’ to me. I waited my whole life for you. I’ve gotta keep you safe.”

You don’t know what to make of that. You’d known Hoseok had been trained specifically to protect the person he’d eventually be sent to, but you hadn’t expected him to be so adamant about it. After all Namjoon grew up in the same place- No. Your expression sours as the thought stops you. No he didn’t. The wolfdog hybrid had been locked away for most of his life and interaction with others had come only in the form of meal delivery. He wouldn’t have had the director’s lessons drilled into his head everyday in the same way Hope had.

Still, no one has expressed this level of care for you since your mom died. You’re not entirely sure you deserve it.

“I was gonna wake up before you did and go back to my room,” he mumbles, kicking gently at the blanket and not meeting your eyes. “I promise, I was. I didn’t expect you to be up this early.” He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, his ears drooping more and more the longer you look at him. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Hoseok,” You tell him and his ears perk up a little. It was true, he hadn’t. His actions were sweet, if a bit misguided but you were more worried about him than anything. “I don’t know what the director told you or what you’ve heard, but I promise there’s no one after me.” He frowns at that, lips twisting into a little pout. He goes to interject, but you speak again before he can. “If you’re worried about anything, just tell me okay? If there’s anything you need to do to make yourself feel more at ease here, just tell me.” You implore him softly.

Hoseok nods slowly and you see his tail give one small wag. You nod back, and turn to go, but his voice stops you. “I think it would help a lot if I could sleep down here.” Your brow furrows at that.

“This is the only bedroom on this floor, though?”

He whines and looks like he’s about to explain- but a soft voice purring in your ear cuts him off. “He could sleep on the couch,” Jimin supplies, his arms entwining around your middle as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “It’s quite comfortable...Y/N-ah, do you mind dogs on the furniture?” His tone is light, free of the haze of sleep and a little teasing. From the way Hoseok’s ears droop and the way his shoulders curve in, you could tell Jimin hadn’t crept down here for a bit of good-natured ribbing. Your scent sours as your expression does, irritation with the leopard hybrid pricking at you. He lets out a little disgruntled murr in protest as he noses at your neck, trying to get you to soften for him. You tilt your head away from him and disentangle yourself from his arms. It’s three in the morning, you have to cross the city to deal with the fallout from God only knows what, and your neck still aches from the bruise Yoongi had left on it. You have too much on your plate to deal with Jimin needling his new housemate.

“Leave him alone, Jimin,” You exhale, side-stepping the leopard hybrid and heading down the corridor for the door. “Hoseok, you can sleep where you want. I’ve gotta go.”

The doberman takes a step forward. “I’ll come with you-” the icy look Jimin shoots him has him slowing but it’s not until the leopard hybrid bares his teeth at him that he stalls entirely. The sound of his whimper has you whirling around, but when you do, you find Jimin looking at you, blasé and Hoseok eyeing him with uncertainty

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise,” you toss back over your shoulder as you slide your feet into a pair of shoes. “Please, just...if you can’t be friendly, just do your own thing ‘til I get back.” You lace up your sneakers as quickly as you can and duck out the door. “Text me if you need anything; I’ll call on the way back.” And you’re gone, leaving the leopard and the doberman in the dark.

You are not at all confident in their ability to maintain a truce while you’re gone. You’re almost certain that if you hadn’t shoved your way between Namjoon and Yoongi last night, they’d have come to blows right there in the lobby last night. You punch the button for the ground floor and slump back against the railing of the elevator, exhaustion settling heavy on you now that you were alone again. You’d known Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung weren’t thrilled about sharing their space, but you hadn’t expected this kind of fallout from bringing new hybrids home. You don’t know if there’s anything you can do to make things a little easier, but you want to. Sighing, you resign yourself to more research. You pull out your phone and start typing.

why are my hybrids freaking the fuck out

You backspace. Venting at google wasn’t going to help you figure out what the sharp looks Jimin kept throwing Hoseok while he thought your back was turned meant or why Yoongi had been so furious the other hybrids’ scent was on you.

why don’t my hybrids like each other

Just like all your other searches, this one turns up millions of results. You thumb over the links but none of them are helpful. They’re dealing with puppy hybrids bickering and cat hybrids hissing at each other. None of them cover cross-species beef. None of them deal with exotics. You sigh, lock your phone and tilt your head back to stare at the soft yellow lights in the elevator’s ceiling. You were out of your depth. You’d known that from the moment Mr. Seo turned you into an heiress with a wave of his fountain pen. You get the urge to run, that old niggling feeling that settled like a stone in your mind and made your palms itch.

It’s been years since you last felt the need to pull a disappearing act. You don’t think you’ve done it since the one year anniversary of your mom’s death. The foster home you’d been sent to was a shit show. You found out the woman in charge had been pocketing the money you gave her every month for your mother’s columbarium fees and her urn was in danger of being thrown out. You’d shoved everything you owned into your school bag and walked across the city to get her. When the police found you, you were striding down the side of the highway, her urn clutched to your chest, determined to go anywhere but there.

You hadn’t known where you were going then; you still didn’t now. All you’d had was the urge to flee and fire under your feet. All you’d had was a singular focus on the road ahead.

The elevator reaches the ground floor with a soft ding, the automated voice letting you know you’ve reached the lobby. You step out and shuffle across it with your head down, careful to avoid eye contact with the receptionist watching you warily from behind her desk.

It’s a cold night. A blast of frigid air hits your face the second you’re out the door. You curse under your and fold your arms around yourself in a futile effort to keep warm. You should go back upstairs and get the coat Yoongi made you buy. You shift from one foot to the other, weighing your options- and decide against it. If the conversation you’d had with Hoseok was enough to wake Jimin and send him slinking toward you, you running in and out of the penthouse would almost certainly wake Yoongi up. Memories flash in your mind: his hands gripping your hips tight, his rough tongue laving over your neck, that self-satisfied smirk he’d let spread over his mouth. You pinch yourself, trying to stem the heat you can feel crawling out the neck of your sweatshirt. It had upset you, there was no denying that. The warm feeling that’d bubbled up in your stomach at being touched didn’t wash away the fact that him marking you had nothing to do with your friendship and everything to do with warding off the canine hybrids.

Yeah, you decide, quickening your pace down the ice-slicked sidewalk. You’d much rather face the cold than him.

You make quick work of the walk from Haneul Tower to the streets of the club district. It’s only two blocks up and one over, but by the time you get there, you feel like a giant icicle. You’re out of place in a sweatshirt and scuffed up sneakers among the glitz and glamor of the club-goers, but you don’t have time to deal with your imposter syndrome. You duck into the first taxi you find, pass the old man the address Officer Kwon had given you and settle back.

He complains nearly the entire time about how far out of the way you’re making him go. You apologize as much as you’re able and promise him return fair back to Gangnam if he waits for you. He huffs and puffs, but he still takes you. Forty minutes later, you’re standing on the sidewalk outside of Happy Tails Hybrid Clinic, rapping urgently at the glass. After two minutes that feel like twenty, someone finally answers you.

You think she’s in her late twenties but the dark circles under her eyes she keeps rubbing at make her look older. She’s dressed in the typical winter police uniform, minus her jacket. The pale blue sleeves of her dress shirt are rolled up above her elbows and are blotchy with pale red marks she’d tried to scrub out. Blood. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

She unlocks the door and pokes her headout. “Y/N L/N?” She asks, eyes narrowed against the glare of the street lamps.

“Yeah,” you answer, giving one short nod. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Officer Kwon; we spoke on the phone.” She opens the door for you fully, stepping back and ushering you in urgently. “I’ll be honest,” she says once you’re safely inside and the door is locked back tight again. “I wasn’t sure you were gonna show.”

You frown at that. “Why wouldn’t I have shown?”

“Most of the time when hybrids run, it’s an abuse case.” She drops into one of the plastic chairs lining the waiting room. Her head falls back with a thunk against the yellow plaster. If it hurts, she shows no signs of it, just stares up at the fluorescent lights. You settle on the lip of the chair next to her, feeling awkward and anxious. “The rabbit broke into an Olive Young to steal antiseptic and bandages,” she supplies without you having to ask. “He said he did it for the deer. When he showed me he was…” Officer Kwon exhales sharply and tips forward to rest her head in her hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much blood.”

“I wouldn’t hurt them,” you insist softly. “It wasn’t me.”

“I know,” she answers, voice muffled against her palms. “I pulled your name and ID picture from the national database and the rabbit didn’t recognize you. Even if you didn’t do it, I didn’t think you’d wanna deal with it.”

Your anxiety spikes at her words. What had happened to the hybrids before she found them? Who’d want to hurt them that badly? Your mouth feels dry, but you force it to move. “Do you know who they were running from?”

Officer Kwon shakes her head and drags her hands down her face. She lets her arms fall to her knees as she hunches over in her chair, back bowed with exhaustion. “Whatever the rabbit knows, he’s not sharing,” she exhales. “-And the deer’s in no position to speak up. He’s been unconscious since I found him.” As if sensing you tense, she adds, “He’s on the table now. I think Dr. Cheon put him under sedation.”

You don’t know what to say. You’re not sure if there’s anything you even can. You have a million questions buzzing around in your mind, but so heavy is the weight of them on your tongue that you can’t find the strength to ask a single one. You’re saved by the doctor coming out from the back.

The door right next to the counter that reads STAFF + PATIENTS ONLY swings open and a middle aged woman in cat print scrubs comes out, shoulders hunched in like she’s got the weight of the world on her back. You can’t blame her; she looks every bit as tired as you feel. She stops just short of you and Officer Kwon, peels off a pair of blue medical gloves, dyed sticky red, and tosses them into the garbage can behind the reception desk. “Well,” she huffs, dragging her fingers through the greying wisps of hair that’d escaped from her braid. “It’s done.”

“How is he?” The police officer asks before you can. Dr. Cheon grimaces and leans against the counter.

“If you hadn’t found him in time, it could’ve been much worse.” You think she’s trying to put you at ease, but you don’t want compromising optimism. You want the truth. “An hour or two later and we’d be dealing with a very different situation, medically.”

You swallow and force yourself to speak. “Do you have any idea how this could’ve happened?”

Dr. Cheon turns her attention to you and blinks slowly, like she’d just noticed you were there. “...this is the guardian?” The police officer nods. The doctor takes you in, eyes roving from the mess of your hair twisted into a bun atop your head, to the scuffed rubber toes of your sneakers. She’s judging you, you know, trying to find something that’d mark you as the reason for the pain and suffering of the hybrids she’d helped. She finds none. “It didn’t happen to them,” she sighs. “Someone did this to them on purpose, likely over the course of several hours.” She tugs the office chair out from behind the desk and sinks into it, her limbs going to jelly the second she’s seated.

“Jeongguk won’t tell me what happened, but I know the signs. Puncture wounds around the entirety of Seokjin’s ankle, remnants of both sedatives and epinephrine in both of their blood, what looks like a bullet graze wound on Jeongguk’s side and he’s got a broken arm,” she rattles off symptom after symptom, each of them making the knot in your belly wind tighter and tighter. “The worst of it is Seokjin’s head. Hairline fractures all along the top of his skull and lacerations on his pedicles. They took his antlers from him.”

You feel sick to your stomach. You knew there were people who hurt hybrids, just like there were people that hurt animals and other people. You just hadn’t expected to ever have to deal with the fallout of one such incident. “Will he be okay?”

“He’ll survive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Dr. Cheon allows. “But he’ll need to be monitored closely during these next few weeks. They were hunted. If they decide to come with you instead of going to the shelter with Officer Kwon, you’ll need to be cognisant of the fact that the trauma from that could manifest in unexpected ways.”

Hunted. They’d been hunted.

You knew hunting was illegal in South Korea, you had that little tidbit tucked away in the recesses of your grade school memory along with the list of provinces and their capitals and the names of all the sailor scouts. It’d been outlawed in the fifties with the rash of hybrid centered legislation after a hunter up in Chungcheongbuk-do had shot a black bear hybrid he’d mistaken for a real bear. It was determined that since humans couldn’t distinguish between regular animals and hybrids shifted down into animal form, hunting had to be outlawed to prevent any accidental killings.

“Were they shifted down?” You ask. “Did someone not realize-”

“No.” Dr. Cheon’s answer is swift and final. “They knew. This was a choice.” The disgust in her voice is palpable.

“There are places that...Some centers cater to people that want to hunt.” Officer Kwon cuts in. “They have hybrids as employees and they let people rent airsoft or paintball guns to come hunt them. It’s supposed to be more ethical than actual hunting. No matter how distasteful I might personally find it, if they have a permit, there’s not really much the police can do unless a law has been broken. ”

“And without any information on where they came from, we can’t prove that one has,” Dr. Cheon finishes. “The most I can do as a vet is submit a report to the police about a possible abuse case and hope it makes its way to the hybrid crimes unit.” You hear the words she doesn’t speak, the meaning behind them. There’s nothing more we can do. They’ll get away with it. This is the end of the line.

Dr. Cheon drops her palms against her knees and forces herself to stand “Jeongguk’s injuries should heal just fine outside of the clinic,” She sighs. “But Seokjin-” she clicks her tongue against her teeth and gives a single shake of her head. “Cervine hybrids don’t shed their antlers like real deer do. There’s no telling if his will grow back or what they’ll look like when they do. All we can do is keep the wounds clean and pray.”

You nod numbly. She gestures for you to follow her and you do, making your way around the reception desk and through the staff door with her.

It’s dim in the back. The overhead lights are off and your path ahead is illuminated only by what light spills over from the reception room and an exam room up ahead. There’s only four of them, but the door to this one is slightly ajar. “Wait here for a second,” Dr. Cheon instructs, slipping through the door and leaving you alone in the corridor. You can hear her speaking softly to someone inside and them answering in even quieter tones. You have to strain to pick up the edge of their voice and even then, you can’t understand what they’re saying. “Would you like her to come in here, or would you like her to stay outside?” You hear her ask. The response is too soft for you to catch but a second later the door swings open.

Dr. Cheon steps out and gestures for the shadowy figure behind her to follow. “It’s alright,” she assures them. “No one here is going to hurt you.” Slowly, they shuffle out from the back.

It’s Jeongguk. There’s no denying what he is, not with the black velvet ears you see poking up out of his mop of wavy, dark hair. They’re alert; they prick toward you when your breath hitches. His eyes are dark and wide and the tip of his nose twitches when he looks at you. You muster up a smile you hope is reassuring and this right foot taps once against the linoleum. Yes, he’s a rabbit- but he’s also fucking huge.

What little research you’d managed to do in between apologizing to your taxi driver and keeping an eye on the fare had been straightforward: rabbit hybrids were naturally timid, needed a lot of attention and were small. Most sources you’d checked seemed to concur that they very rarely cleared 5’5. Jeongguk is pushing 6 feet and he’s built like a professional athlete. You suppose that’s what happens when you’ve spent your whole life running for it.

He’s wearing a teeshirt that’s too tight on his chest, the logo of the Seoul police force stretched thin, and a pair of grey sweatpants that are too short for him, both obviously on loan from Officer Kwon. His feet are bare, but there are bandages wrapped around both of them. True to what Dr. Cheon told you, his arms in a cast and wrapped in a sling. There’s scrapes on his knuckles and bruises blooming on the right side of his face. He looks like he’s been through the wringer. Still, he doesn’t slouch or shrink before you.

“Jeongguk, this is the woman we talked about,” Dr. Cheon tells him. He nods, but doesn’t move his gaze from your face once. “You’ll be going home with her-”

“Only if he wants,” You interject and she nods in agreement, quickly adding that caveat in.

“-only if you want.” He nods again and swallows, his bare foot giving another little tap against the floor.

“What about Seokjin?” He asks you.

“If he wants to come too, he’s welcome to, but neither of you have to if you don’t want to.” There’s a little frown on his face as you answer and he finally looks away. You can’t help but think that’s a bad sign, that he thinks he and his friend would be safer in a shelter that they ever could be with you- but then he asks another question.

“Do you have a husband or a boyfriend?” You frown at that. Why was it that every hybrid in the city was suddenly so concerned with your marital status? Hoseok had asked you in the car last night and now Jeongguk seemed worried about it as well. Sensing your confusion, he clarifies. “Do you live with any men?”

You wince. “Oh! Yeah, I live with five.” You see his expression darken as his ears sag. “They’re mostly predator-”

“If they’re hybrids, it’s fine.” He interjects, a little tension leaving his shoulders. “I can live with them.”

You relax too. From what you’d seen, most shelters weren’t nice places. They were overcrowded and underfunded. If the news was any indication, some of the worse ones got treated like grab bags by fighting rings, who’d shell out a couple thousand won for a canine hybrid and turn him into a prize fighter. You didn’t want that for them, not if you could provide an alternative.

But was it one though? He said he could live with them, but could they live with him? You think back to Yoongi and Namjoon snarling at each other last night, about Jimin’s little jabs at Hoseok. Yeah, you’d need to have another house meeting when you got home if this was ever going to work. Jeongguk had just been through hell and back; the last thing he needed was a territorial bobcat trying him.

“You can change your mind any time,” You tell him softly. “If you get there and feel like it’s not a good fit for you and Seokjin, you can go, okay?”

He dips his head. “Okay.”

“I think Seokjin can decide for himself.”

Your eyes rocket just over Jeongguk’s shoulder. There’s a man leaning heavily against the doorframe of the room the rabbit hybrid had come out of. He’s in a blue exam gown, his feet bare except for a plain white cast on his left leg. Every part of his head from his eyebrows up is bandaged, but you see soft tufts of red-brown hair poking out from between the layers. He looks human. You’d almost think he was if it weren’t for the oblong pupils in his hazel eyes and supple ears you see twitching as he observes you.

“What are you doing up?!” The alarm in Dr. Cheon’s voice is palpable. “Those sedatives should’ve kept you out ‘til morning.” She takes a step like she’s going to rush to his side- but stops short when he tenses and tilts his chin to his chest. Just for a second, it looked like he was preparing himself to square off against her- like he was brandishing something that wasn’t really there. His antlers, you think. He was trying to protect himself with his antlers.

Seokjin forces himself upright, his knees wobbling as he tries to stand on his own. He looks off-balance, and it’s not just because of the cast. He looks like he’s trying to figure out how to stand now that a piece of him is missing. His legs are trembling. “What can I say?” He huffs, sounding like he just ran a marathon. “I like to surprise people.” And then his legs buckle underneath him.

He hits the floor with a heavy thud. Jeongguk and Dr. Cheon rush to his side but he waves them off, eyes closed and brow knit in frustration. “I’m fine,” he insists, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to struggle back to his feet. “I’m fine, I just…I just need a moment-”

“You need bed rest.” Dr. Cheon goes to latch on to his arm to help him stand but Jeongguk catches her wrist, gives a single shake of his head and she drops it back to her side.

Seokjin manages to get himself back standing, but he sways precariously. “If this were a hunt, I’d already be dead.” He swallows and inhales shakily through his nose, doing his best not to gulp down air. “You should have left me, Jeongguk. You know the rules. One falls, but the herd rises-”

“The herd is gone, Seokjin.” The bitterness in the younger hybrid’s voice takes you aback. It’s a black wave, threatening to drown all four of you right there in the corridor. Seokjin stares at him, his jaw slack and pretty brown eyes wide.

“What do you-”

“They’re gone.” The rabbit hybrid’s bruised fingers clench into a fist and he fixes his glare on the tile. “All of them.”

Silence rings in the corridor. Dr. Cheon’s mouth is pressed into a thin line, but she doesn’t press for details and neither do you. She’d been right. They’d been hunted. The thought of it turns your stomach. Seokjin closes his eyes, long lashes fanning out over his cheeks as a muscle tenses in his jaw. He’s thinking. When he opens his eyes again, his gaze is settled on you. Your heart jumps as your nerves get the better of you, and one of his ears flicks back.

“You’re taking us?” He asks. You swallow.

“Only if you want me to.” An unreadable look passes between him and Jeongguk, the younger’s nose twitching.

“Speaking strictly as your doctor,” Dr. Cheon speaks up, interrupting the hybrids’ telepathy. “You need time to rest and recuperate-”

“Is there any special reason I have to rest and recuperate here?” He asks. You can’t help but notice the slight challenge in his voice. The corner of the doctor’s mouth twitches.

“No, I suppose not,” she acquiesces. She doesn’t look particularly pleased about the prospect of letting her patient go when he was still in the danger zone, but if the look of determination in Seokjin’s eyes is any indication, she doesn’t have much choice.

“Then, we’ll go.” The tone of his voice is final, letting everyone present know that he’s done talking about it.

That's the last that’s said to you or anyone else about it. Jeongguk falls in line with his orders easily and so doesDr. Cheon after she manages to get him to accept a pair of crutches she’d foisted upon him and passes off a prescription for pain meds and both of their check up schedules to you.

“It’s important that they don’t miss these dates,” she tells you at the reception counter, tapping the sheath of papers with one clean, blunted nail. “A single one of them. And make sure they don’t shift ‘til I’ve given them the all clear. Hybrid injuries are tricky, but they’re aggravated by the shift.” You nod, hanging onto every word she says, forcing your tired brain to take mental notes. “And-” she cuts her eyes at Jeongguk and Jin, both of whom are lingering in various extremes in the room, the deer hybrid sitting ramrod straight in a chair in the far right corner and the rabbit pretending to browse informational pamphlets. Once Dr. Cheon’s deemed it safe, she leans closer to you across the counter and gestures for you to come closer as well. You blink in confusion but acquiesce. “It’s important that your current hybrids be made to feel secure with the new additions coming.” She tells you, voice gravely serious. “Do you know about scenting order?”

After a beat, you nod. “Yeah. I mean, I read about it online but-”

Dr. Cheon tuts her tongue against the back of her teeth. “Online sources are shaky at best, wildly inaccurate at worst- particularly forums.” Your stomach flips. Had all your research been for nothing? “What did they tell you?”

“Um…” your brain boots up slowly as you try to recall the hours of research you’d done. “Uh, dominant hybrid first, then in age order?”

The corner of Dr. Cheon’s mouth quirks in an odd way. “That’s certainly a simplified way of looking at it.”

You wince.

“Hybrid group dynamics can be…” She searches for the right word. “Messy to start out with, especially with hybrids who don’t know each other who find themselves with an inexperienced handler. They’re all going to be trying to figure out where they fit in the pecking order as well as how their relationship with you works. There’s likely to be a lot of posturing, not just in order to impress you, but to solidify their place as well.” Dr. Cheon drags a hand down over her face. “Seven male hybrids under one roof...It’d be a miracle if no one’s missing fingers by the time the week’s out.”

“Is there any way I can stop them from being mean to each other?”

“I’m not a behaviorist,” The doctor sighs. “But I’d suggest you start with a conversation.”

You slide into the back of the taxi a little after 5:30 AM and pull out your phone. You’d promised to call on the way back and you don’t want a repeat of what’d happened the last time you’d forgotten. You scroll down your contacts, thumb hovering over Yoongi’s name and you hesitate. You remember warm lips, a rough tongue. You remember hands gripping your hips tight and a possessive growl in your ear. You press Taehyung’s name instead.

The tiger hybrid picks up on the third ring. “Hello?” His voice is slow and scratchy, still thick with sleep.

“Hey, it’s Y/N-” Almost immediately a happy rumbling starts from his end of the line. You can hear the sleepy joy in it and it makes your face warm.���A-and I just wanted to let you guys know I’m on the way home.”

Taehyung hums in acknowledgement, a low, musical sound. “Where’d you go?”

You bite your lip as nerves spark up in you. Well, all things considered, it was probably better for him to find out now rather than later. “The last two hybrids my uncle got…they were hurt and I had to come get them.”

The line is quiet for a moment and you gnaw at the bottom of your lip. Finally, Taehyung speaks. “Ah.” That’s all he says. Somehow, that’s worse than whatever Yoongi growling at the new hybrids or Jimin icing them out.

“I’ll be home in about another forty-five minutes, okay? Could you have everyone get together in the living room for me? We need to have a conversation.”

“Yeah, I can.”

You wince. There’s an almost imperceptible change in his voice. You swallow. “Taehyung, are you upset?”

He hums again like he’s considering it. “No,” he answers after a moment. “I don’t think i am. At least, not with you.”

That does little to allay your fears, but you force yourself to sound upbeat when you tell him, “I’ll see you when I get home, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll see you when you get home.”

The line clicks off and you drop your head against the headrest. A conversation. It should be a simple thing, but you spend the entirety of your taxi ride back to Gangnam with your stomach in knots. If the thought of introducing your two (very injured, very vulnerable) new hybrids to a house full of predators wasn’t enough, you have to try to allay Jeongguk’s inexplicable fear of the taxi driver. The middle aged man isn’t thrilled about ferrying hybrids across the city anyway, but between Seokjin swooning and Jeongguk thumping his foot so hard the whole car rattles whenever the man so much as looks in his rearview mirror, he’s almost ready to put all three of you out on the side of the highway. You have to promise him a 50,000 won tip just to get him to relent. He rolls up the partition, but even that doesn’t put Jeongguk at ease.

The rabbit hybrid is curled up in the corner of the backseat, his back against the door, his injured arm cradled close and his knees pulled up to his chin. His ears are on high alert, twitching at every passing car or stray siren. His whole body is tensed up like there’s a current running through it, like if he lets himself relax for a second, he’ll disperse into nothing. He’s glaring daggers at the partition, but you know he can’t see the driver. The car rolls over a speed bump a bit too fast and he flinches, hand shooting out for the door handle.

You watch him, concern coloring your scent. It’s not your place to ask, you know, and you feel almost stupid doing it, but the words slip out of their own accord. “Are you okay?” It’s a ridiculous question. You can still see the bruises blooming on his cheekbone, see the angry red of his split lip in the stray light of street lamps. His dark eyes flick toward you, round nose twitching.

“How do you know he’s taking us somewhere safe?” His gaze shifts from you, to the partition, to Seokjin, dozing fitfully on your otherside. The deer hybrid had finally surrendered to his pain meds not a second after you’d helped buckle him in. He’d been out cold before the driver had pulled away from the curb.

“Because that’s what I paid him to do,” you tell him, truthfully. You’d never given much thought to how much trust you placed in taxi and bus drivers to not kidnap you before. You certainly had to now, especially when Jeongguk seemed hyperaware of the fact that you’d entrusted all of your lives to a stranger. The rabbit hybrid swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in the long column of his throat. He gives a little shake of his head.

“He could take your money and still take us somewhere bad. He could take us up into the mountains and Seokjin and I wouldn’t be able to do anything because we’re hurt and-”

“That’s not going to happen, Jeongguk,” you say in as soothing a voice as you can manage to muster up. “It’s really unlikely that that’ll happen, but even if it did, I’d do my best to protect you.”

He snorts, ears tilting back. They brush the roof of the car as they do and he shrinks himself, shoulders hunching forward. “What can you do?” His tone is derisive. “You’re only human. You’re not as fast as us or as strong-”

“I’d try,” you insist, some strong, unnameable emotion tightening your chest at the thought of them in danger. “If if came down to it, I’d still try to protect the pair of you-”

“You don’t even know me.” Jeongguk’s voice is edging somewhere between disgust and disbelief. You look away from him then and at your hands, gripping your knees.

“I don’t,” you agree easily. “But I’d like to. Even if I don’t- even if I didn’t, people should still help each other when they can. We owe each other that much.” The taxi is quiet for a moment, only the sound of tires rushing over the slick pavement and other cars zooming by filling the empty air between the two of you. Finally, the rabbit hybrid exhales shakily.

“I’m not a person.” He sounds resigned to that fact, like he’s accepted a burden far too heavy for him. “I’m not even an animal. I’m a-”

“Just because you aren’t human…” you start off hesitantly, very much aware that you might be crossing several invisible lines. “...doesn’t mean you’re not a person. You have your own thoughts and feelings and emotions. You deserve to have them heard. I know I’m not as fast as you or as strong, but the least I can do is listen to you, right?” The car is silent again. You’re too nervous to look at Jeongguk, worried that you’d gone too far- but then there’s a warm weight against your side. It starts slow at first, just your shoulders brushing against each other, but before you know it, Jeongguk’s leaning his whole body against yours. He’s slumped over with his head tucked beneath your chin like he doesn’t have the strength to hold himself up anymore. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry. “Jeongguk-”

“I’m afraid.” He admits in a whisper, like it’s the worst thing in the world. “Everything in me tells me to run all the time, but I can’t anymore.” His ears droop and his pretty dark eyes slip shut. This close, you can hear his heart beating at breakneck speed in his chest, feel how he shudders with every shaky inhale. “I’m so tired of running.” He’s terrified. You wouldn’t have guessed from his posture. Maybe the reason he held himself so tight was to stop himself from shaking apart.

You watch in surprise as the rabbit hybrid links his fingers with yours and drops your hand on top of his head, right between his velvety ears. “Help me like this.” You’re frozen, unsure what to do with a six foot tall man practically crawling into your sweatshirt with you. Was this really okay? He’d just been through something traumatic, the details of which you know nothing about. You hadn’t thought he’d want anyone to touch him, much less you, a virtual stranger. You don’t know what to do. The car jerks to a quick stop and the taxi driver leans on his horn, curses jaywalkers. Jeongguk’s grip on you tightens and he flinches so hard you’re surprised he didn’t knock his head into your teeth. He exhales shakily, tilts his head up and brushes his nose along the underside of your jaw. “Please,” he asks in a voice so small you know it’s killing him. “Just ‘til we get there, please just let me be weak.”

That breaks something inside you. Despite how awkward you might feel, he’s sure to be feeling worse. You wrap your arms fully around him, hesitant until you feel him go lax in your arms. You slowly stroke the back of his head and he buries his face in your clavicle, his eyes squeezed shut. “We’re almost there,” you assure him gently as he fists his good hand in the fabric of your sweatshirt. “You’re almost home.”

By the time the three of you arrive back at Haneul tower, the sky is lightening in the east and the first wave of office workers are making their way from your building into the streets of Gangnam. It’s not even 6 AM yet, but the city is stirring.

It takes you a good ten minutes to rouse both the boys and get them out of the taxi. After you’d let Jeongguk cling to you, the rabbit hybrid had fallen asleep quickly, the exhaustion from his turbulent day finally catching up to him. Even in sleep he was latched on to you, a small crease between his brows and his nose wrinkled up. Seokjin hadn’t fared much better. The cocktail of meds Dr. Cheon had given him had rendered him dead to the world for the entirety of the drive back. Even now you were having trouble rousing him.

“Seokjin…” You shake the sleeping stag’s shoulders but the only response you get is a slight hitch in his snoring. “Seokjin, please wake up, we have to go…” You can practically feel the glare the taxi driver is giving you in his rearview mirror. Yeah, the meter is still running, but you’ve taken up enough of his time as it is. “Seokjin, come on…” Jeongguk is standing behind you, staring bleary-eyed up at the apartment building, his free hand fisted in the fabric of your sweatshirt. If he’s cold in his thin tee-shirt and bare feet, he makes no mention of it.

Without warning, the taxi driver leans on the horn. Seokjin’s eyes fly open and he sits bolt upright, fear making his body tight. Jeongguk jerks so violently you think he’s going to rip a hole in your sweatshirt. You stumble back a few paces, trying to steady the rabbit and stop the pair of you from tumbling into the street. When you manage to right yourself, you slam a palm against the roof of the car and glare in the window at the driver. “Yo, what the fuck?”

The man glares back at you and waves you off. “I don’t have all day!” He shouts. “Get your animal and get out!”

You want to argue with him, you want to make him apologize- but the sight of Seokjin disoriented and afraid stops you. He’s looking at you with hazy eyes, his whole body stiff and his chest heaving. It’s for his sake alone that you hold your tongue. You reach a hand out to him. “Come on, buddy.” You say. “I got you.” He looks from your face to your hand and finally, slowly, places his own in it. His fingers are long and elegant and his hand dwarfs your’s. You tug him from the backseat and he leans heavily on you, hopping awkwardly to avoid walking on his broken foot. You pass him his crutches and he takes them, wobbling awkwardly as he tries to set himself to rights. “Can you stand?” You ask him. He nods and starts limping for the glass doors of Haneul Tower. He’s doing his best to look strong. His back is straight and his head is high, but you don’t miss the tremble in his fingers or the way he winces whenever the wind blows over the top of his head. You shove some bills at the taxi driver with a final, disapproving look, usher Jeongguk up onto the sidewalk and head inside after Seokjin.

The moment the three of you breach the double doors, Jeongguk drops his hand from your sweatshirt. His eyes rove over the glass and granite, round nose twitching at all the scents and his ears standing at attention on top of his head. He pauses, a little furrow between his brows. You’re halfway to the elevators, hovering a foot behind Seokjin in case he falls, before you notice the rabbit hybrid isn’t following you.

You cast a look back over his shoulder and find him gawking up at the hanging lights, mouth slightly ajar and starry-eyed. The corner of your mouth twitches. He’s cute, you decide. The thought leaves you almost instantly when you see Mr. Park powerwalking over to him, a sunny smile on his face. Jeongguk takes notice of him only a split second after you do and his eyes wide. You see him tense up, watch the fingers on his uninjured hand curl into a ball.

“You need to get him,” Seokjin says, sounding like he’s out of breath. You turn your attention back to the deer hybrid. He’s leaning heavily on his crutches and his face is pale. “You need to get him,” he repeats, nodding at Jeongguk. “That man gets any closer and Jeongguk will kick him.”

You whip back around. Mr. Park is closing the distance between them, seemingly unconcerned by the look of distress on the rabbit hybrids face or how his foot seems to be tapping a mile a minute.

“Excuse me!” The older man says, reaching out to put a hand on the rabbit hybrid’s shoulder. “Where’s your-”

“Mr. Park!” You practically sprint over as fast as you can, sliding between the receptionist and the hybrid just as he’d started winding his leg back. Mr. Park blinks, surprised to find you so suddenly in front of him. You offer him a tight smile. “He’s with me.”

“Oh! Ms. L/N, I apologize. He didn’t have a collar, so I assumed he was a stray.” The statement pricks at you, but you know he means nothing by it, so you try to stamp down your irritation. “It’s rare but we do occasionally have them come in in the hope someone will take them in.” He clucks his tongue against his teeth. “Such a shame really.”

You feel Jeongguk’s hand fist in the fabric of your sweatshirt. He wants to go. You nod emphatically at what Mr. Park says, already heading back to the elevators. “Yeah, totally,” you agree, shuffling the rabbit hybrid in front of you and putting some distance between him and the elderly man. “Well, have a good morning! I’ll see you later!”

“Ms. L/N, I actually need to speak with you-”

You wave him off and duck into the elevator Seokjin had called in your brief absence. “We’ll talk later!” You tell him, pressing the close door buttons as quickly as you can and willing them to shut before he can catch up.

“But it’s about your-!”

The doors click shut and you’re blessed with silence. You exhale in a short puff, press the button for the penthouse and slump against the cool metal wall, finally letting yourself relax for a moment. The elevator starts rolling and Jeongguk flinches beside you. He duck his head like he’s going to crouch down- but he stops himself, grips the railing instead.

“It’s okay,” You soothe. “It’s just-”

“I’m fine,” he insists, forcing himself to stand up straight and release the death grip he has on your sweatshirt. “I’m fine; my time’s up.”

It’s just like he’d said in the car. Just ‘til we get there, let me be weak.

The rest of the elevator ride passes in silence outside of the automated bell dinging as you pass each new floor and Seokjin panting quietly. He’s in a bad way. He’ll need another dose of pain meds soon. You arrive on the top floor, punching in the key code and pull the door open. “Let me get Seokjin settled, Jeongguk and I-” You run directly into someone.

Their arms wrap around you, covered in a brown cable knit sweater. It’s soft and they smell of vanilla. They press their cheek against the top of your head and exhale, a little rumble kicking up in their chest. “You’re back.” Taehyung.

“Hey, buddy.” You pat him on the back gently and peer around him. Yoongi and Jimin are both sprawled on the couch, legs kicked out so there isn’t room for anyone else to join them. Namjoon is sitting on the stairs shooting daggers at the back of Yoongi’s head and his arms crossed over his chest.Hoseok is lingering in the no man’s land between the living room and kitchen looking like he’d much rather be anywhere else. The atmosphere is tense to say the least.

Taehyung dips his head down. “I got them, like you said,” he whispers, lips brushing against the tip of your ear and his breath warm. You have fight off a little shiver, but if he notices it, he doesn’t react. “I don’t think Hyung and Jiminie like the others very much.”

You give a little nod of acknowledgement. “That’s okay,” you tell him. “We all just need to get to know each other a little better.”

Seokjin hobbles through the door, past the tiger hybrid and drops himself onto a stool on the kitchen with a heavy exhale. “Well, I’ve got maybe fifteen minutes at most before these meds catch a second wind, so let’s get this over with.” He’s doing his best to sound cavalier but he’s pallid. You don’t miss the thin sheen of cold sweat on his face and neck. “Seokjin. Twenty-eight. Red stag.”

All the other hybrids are staring at him in a mix of confusion, irritation and, in some cases, open dislike. It seems like they don’t know what to make of him. It’s Yoongi who speaks first. “If you’re a stag,” he drawls and you already feel dread welling up in you at what you know is going to follow. “Where are your antlers?”

Seokjin fixes him with a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I only put them on for special occasions.”

“Okay!” You clap your hands together trying to diffuse the tension you can feel building. “New house rule: let’s not ask each other about injuries past or present unless we’re asking how to help.” Yoongi looks miffed, but he settles. It’s weird. Normally, you’d have expected him to say something snarky back to you. He’s trying not to push his luck after last night, you think. “Yoongi, why don’t you go next?”

His ears flick in annoyance, but he does as you ask. “I’m Yoongi, I’m twenty-seven and I’m a bobcat-”

“I’m Jimin,” his junior pipes up before he’s hardly had time to finish. “I’m an amur leopard and I came here with Yoongi-hyung and Tae. We’ve been with Y/N the longest.” He says it like it’s an important piece of information for everyone to know.

Beside you, Taehyung lifts one hand, palm up. “Hi,” he says calmly. “I’m Taehyung. I like the color purple.” Everyone watches him to see what else he’s going to say, but the tiger hybrid is finished. You give him a little nudge with your shoulder.

“Tell them how old you are and what your hybrid is,” you suggest.

“Oh,” he lifts his eyebrows like the thought genuinely hadn’t occurred to him. “I’m twenty-four and I’m a tiger.” Suddenly remembering something, he tilts his head forward in a little bow. “It’s nice to meet you all.” A sour look takes over Yoongi’s face and Jimin rolls his eyes, gestures for the youngest of their group to come sit beside him.

Hoseok is the next one to pipe up. “I’m Hoseok!” He seems to perk up a little when you turn your eyes to him, his docked tail giving as much of a wag as it’s able. “I’m a Doberman, I’m twenty-six and Joonie and I came from the same pla-”

“My name is Namjoon.” The wolfdog cuts off the other canine with a growl. All the wind goes out of Hoseok’s sails and you don’t miss the way Seokjin freezes up at the dark sound, suddenly alert. You weren’t sure if prey hybrids still avoided predator hybrids like their animal counterparts did, but you’d need to learn and fast. Namjoon leans back on the stairs, his jaw clenched. “I’m the same age as him-” he jerks his head at the Doberman hybrid. “-so I guess I’m twenty-six too.” He makes no mention of his hybrid and you don’t press. You don’t know how sensitive a subject it is for him yet, but you don’t want to find out the hard way.

Hoseok looks back at you and cocks his head to the side, his gaze fixed on a spot just over your shoulder. “Who’s he?”

Five pairs of eyes follow his. You turn around. Outside the apartment, still in the corridor, is Jeongguk, his back pressed against the wall and his eyes wide as he surveys the mixed bag of hybrids spread out in front of you. Your eyebrows furrow in concern.

“Do you wanna come in?”

His gaze flicks from you, to the cats, then to Hoseok and finally to Namjoon. It’s only when he sees the wolfdog hybrid that he moves from the wall. He takes halting, jittery steps one after the other until he’s planted by your side, his eyes on his bare feet. Every move he makes makes it look like he’s fighting against his own body, forcing himself to tamp down his instinct and move.

“Can you introduce yourself?” You ask him softly. “Or do you want me to?”

His good hand clenches into a fist and forces himself to look up. He meets each of the other hybrid’s eyes evenly. “My name is Jeongguk.” When he speaks, there’s no shake in his voice. “I’m twenty-three years old. I came from the same place as Seokjin but we don’t know each other that well. I’m a Flemish Giant Rabbit.” So that was why he was so big. You’d never seen a Flemish Giant in real life, but you’d happened across the odd youtube video of them once or twice in your suggestions. They were huge.

With introductions out of the way, you feel a little tension melt out of your shoulders. That was the biggest hurdle. Maybe now that they all at least knew each other, they’d be a little more open to being around each other. You let out a little exhale. “And I’m Y/N. I’m also twenty-three and this is my uncle’s apartment. He’s the only that bought all of you but I only found out you were coming a little over a week ago, so please forgive me for being unprepared.” You rub your palms against your eyes, trying to combat the exhaustion you can feel crawling over you. “I don’t know that much about hybrids, but I’m trying to learn. A lot of things you’re gonna have to help me with. I’m not expecting you guys to be pets or best friends or anything, but if we could all try to get along I’d appreciate it.” You offer all seven them a weary smile. “Thanks for getting up early to do this, guys, I appreciate it. If there’s anything you need, literally anything, please don’t be scared to ask-”

“Um, Y/N?” Hoseok is looking at you like he’s been dying to say something for the past five minutes. You turn your attention to him and squint as you try to focus on what he’s saying. “I did a sweep of the apartment earlier-” That was concerning. You make a mental note to tell him he doesn’t have to do security sweeps anymore. “-and there’s only four bedrooms.”

You blink at him in confusion.

“There’s eight of us.”

Oh. Oh. You drag your hands down over your face. You hadn’t accounted for lack of space being an issue. When you first moved in, Oliver’s penthouse seemed like it went on forever. “Okay,” you start, crunching some quick numbers. “Some of us are gonna have to double up.” There’s a disgruntled mrow from the couch and without looking, you know it’s Jimin. “Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung are already sharing so they’re exempt, but Seokjin needs his own room- at least until he recovers.”

“That’s fine by me,” the stag chimes in. “But that leaves Jeongguk without a-”

“Hyung, can I stay with you?” The room goes quiet.

“Seokjin really needs his own room-” You pull your face out of your hands to address the rabbit hybrid, but he isn’t looking at the stag. His eyes are fixed on Namjoon who’s looking at him in a mix of confusion and alarm. The wolfdog looks from the rabbit to you.

“I saw a camp bed out in the greenhouse while you were showing us around last night.” He says, standing to go. “I’ll sleep out there.”

“Namjoon, you don’t have to sleep outside-”

“I like it out there.” He calls back over his shoulder as he climbs the stairs. “I can see the sky.” Then he’s gone and the six of you are left.

“Well,” Jimin purrs, rising and crossing the living room to you. “Best of luck.” He rubs his cheek against yours, folding you into a loose hug. You think he’s about to pull away, but he whispers in your ear, “If you want to share with us, you know where we sleep.” And then he’s gone, sauntering up the stairs with Taehyung and Yoongi in tow. The bobcat tosses a look at you, but you look away quickly, missing the way his ears sage when you do.

Now, the only ones left are you, Jeongguk, Hoseok and Seokjin who’s rapidly fading. “I’ll take the couch,” you volunteer. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable thing in the world, but right now, the stark white cushions look like heaven to your sleep-deprived mind. “Seokjin can have my room-”

“He can have mine,” Hoseok interjects. “And, if it’s okay, could I stay with you?” There’s a light whine on the end of his words and you don’t miss the way his ears prick up in anticipation of your answer. “It’s what I wanted to ask you earlier.”

Oh. When Jimin interrupted him, that’s what he’d been trying to say: he wanted to sleep in your room to be closer to you. To protect you.

“Yeah,” you agree easily. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Sharing beds wasn’t a big deal for you. You’d grown up in a flat with your mom and had shared a bed with her til she’d been taken from you. Then in foster homes with too many kids and not enough resources, you’d had to double- and sometimes even triple- up. It was a matter of convenience and space.

Hoseok’s tail gives a little wag and he nods, happy with your decision.

“Great!” Seokjin cheers weakly. “Now can someone please help me lie down.”

It’s Hoseok that helps the stag hybrid up the stairs and into bed. He’s stronger than you and taller, so it only makes sense. You show Jeongguk to his new room and stay with him for a few minutes while he feels it out, making sure it’s safe. It’s only once he’s sequestered himself under the covers and dismissed you that you leave, closing the door quietly behind you as the rabbit hybrid settles down for some much needed sleep. You turn to head back for the stairs- but you find Yoongi at the other end of the corridor, staring you down. You stare back. He swallows.

“Can we talk?” He asks, his voice quieter than you ever remember hearing it.

You give a little nod. “Yeah,” you assent. “We need to.”

He meets you halfway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his joggers and his gaze anywhere but on your face. The seconds stretch out and you exhale, closing your eyes. “Yoongi, about last night-”

“I’m sorry,” he interjects. “About what happened in the elevator. It was disrespectful and immature. I won’t do it again.”

You balk at him. You’d honestly expected him to tell you you were being childish for reacting so strongly to it when you’d told him he could mark you whenever he was ready. But he hadn’t. He shuffles back a few steps, his head still low.

“Well, that was all I wanted to say to you, so-”

“Do you understand?” You ask him. He stops short. “Do you understand why I was upset?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you see a little furrow between his gray eyebrows. “Because I marked you.”

“No,” you insist, emphatically. “I was upset because it didn’t feel like you were doing it for me.” He does look up at you then, yellow eyes unreadable. “It didn’t feel like you were marking me because we’re friends or you wanted me to be a part of your group. It felt like you were doing it to show off in front of Namjoon and Hoseok.” You swallow. “And that hurt my feelings.” It feels good to say. It feels good to talk about.

He lets out a little chirp of distress. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he rasps. “I just-” He rakes a hand back through his hair and shakes his head. “Fuck, I just felt like if I didn’t do something right then you’d get bored of me and send me away. I thought you’d replace me with them.”

Your heart twists. You know the feeling more intimately than you’d like to admit. You reach out, hesitantly and squeeze Yoongi’s arm. “Yoongi, I’m not gonna send you away. Ever. It’s important to me that you know that. Unless you wanna go, you can stay. There’s room enough for all of you.”

“No there’s not, that’s why we’re sharing rooms,” he drawls.

You roll your eyes and let out a little chuckle. “Okay, smart-ass.”

The corner of his mouth curls up at the playful insult. After a moment, he speaks. “I don’t, for the record,” he says. “Wanna go, I mean.” He stares down into your face, yellow eyes intense. The seconds drag on and something between the two of you grows tight. He leans down, face nuzzling the soft spot between your ear and your jaw. He huffs. “Bunny scented you,” he mutters, tail flicking in annoyance, but there’s no heat behind it. You’re relieved.

“He was afraid in the car,” you answer softly. “I think it helped.” Your hands slip from his arms around his back and he purrs. It’s the first time you’ve heard him make that sound. It sends warm vibrations through your whole body and you giggle. Yoongi smiles against your skin and your heart leaps. He’s never smiled around you before. You can’t see it, but you can feel it. You know it’s there. “Do you want to try again?”

Yoongi exhales, his breath warm on your neck. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” you say, tilting your head to the side for him. “You can.”

This time is different, you can feel that from the onset. His fingers wrap gently around your hips and he nuzzles into your skin. He nips lightly at the skin below your ear, the corner of your jaw, all down the column of your neck until he reaches the spot where it joins your shoulder. He hums, wraps his arms around you fully and pulls you flush against the hard line of his body. Your breath hatches and you can practically hear your heart thudding traitorously in your chest.

It’s not a big deal, you tell yourself as he laves his rough tongue against your feverish skin. It’s not a big deal; marking isn’t sexual. This isn’t a big deal, there’s no need to be nervous or get- the points of his teeth scrape over the mark before he laps at again and you have to bite back a whimper. Your knees feel a little weak- that is, until Yoongi slots his thigh between them, keeping you up while he finishes his work. Your hands ball up into fists in the fabric of his t shirt and you grit your teeth together with the effort of keeping quiet. He pulls off your neck with a wet pop and you swear you’re imagining it when he presses a final kiss to his mark. He noses your ear, still purring and you think he’s gonna mark you more- but then his warmth is gone and his standing before you, eyes a little hazier but no worse for wear.

He reaches up and flicks you in the forehead. You grumble at him, covering the spot up with your hands before he can do it again. A lazy smirk spreads out on his face. “Welcome to the family,” he drawls. Then he’s turning on his heel and heading back to his shared bedroom. “Don’t wipe this one off this time, okay?”

You nod mutely after him as he disappears, your hand cupping your mark. “What was that?” You wonder. You descend the stairs in a daze, your mind whirling. None of your research had told you creating a mark would be like that. You’d thought it was a quick thing and Yoongi had just been showboating for the canines. Even in the videos you watched, the hybrid had leaned in close to the human, given then a few quick swipes with their tongue and moved on. Then again, those hybrids had all been domesticated dog or cat breeds. “Are exotics different?” You muse, turning the handle to your bedroom- and promptly tripping over someone.

This time, you don’t go all the way down. You make it halfway before Hoseok catches you. “Ah, I’m sorry, Y/N!” The dog hybrid whines, fussing over you as he sets you back to rights. “I’ll do better about staying out of your way, I promise-”

“It’s okay,” you soothe, trying to stop him from fretting. “It’s okay, I’m okay.” You survey the floor of your bedroom. It seemed like in his security sweep earlier, Hoseok had found the linen cabinet and made use of the spare blankets. His pillow and a comforter are set up in a little pallet on the floor in front of your door. It seems he’d been putting the final touches on it when you’d stumbled over him. “Hoseok…” you start slowly. The Doberman looks at you, ears pricked up. “Hoseok, I wasn’t expecting you to sleep on the floor.”

He cocks his head to the side, doglike even in his confusion. “Then where…?”

“The bed is big enough,” you say, gesturing to the queen sized bed dominating the center of the room. “I don’t mind sharing if you’re comfortable with it.”

His adam’s apple bob’s in his throat as he swallows, suddenly serious. “Yeah,” he says with a nod. “Yeah, I’m comfortable with it.”

You nod and pat him on the shoulder, passing him as you head to bed. “Come on, then.” You collapse onto your bed face-first and slip back under the covers with a groan. “I’m just gonna take a quick nap before I’ve gotta get up and deal with stuff…”

The room is quiet, but somewhere in it, you can hear Hoseok shuffling around. “Maybe I should check to make sure everything is safe one more time?”

You exhale, your eyes slipping shut. “Hoseok…”

“Did you lock the front door after you came in? I think the rabbit...Jeongguk was the last one in? I don’t remember him locking-”

“Hope, bed. Now.” He doesn’t say anything else, but a few seconds later, you feel the far side of the bed dip with his weight. You sigh as he shifts to get under the blankets and you snuggle down further into your pillow. “Sleep well, Hobi.”

He mumbles something under his breath about security being a serious issue, but you don’t catch it. You’re already halfway to dreamland.

[variousqueerthings]

I am being promised a deconstruction of BJ (a literal one, his construction is being dissolved and he’s So not okay) and it is being handed to me!!!

So Operation Friendship, right? That was an episode that happened. It feels like it exists in tandem with Period of Adjustment in the long-simmering-boiling-over BJ saga (and right after that he went aaaalmost off the rails in No Sweat, and I am not convinced that after Hawkeye snapping at him that Peggy’s gonna leave him that nothing would have happened, that man is as taut as one of those ropes they use to tie up boats that can smash buildings if frayed too much -- BUT I digress, it was a fun-episode, and therefore it ended in fun + that all happened in the shower which was also... a choice... as we know about showers and MASH)

(also Hawkeye is SO invested in the Hunnicutt marriage, it’s not even funny anymore)

Operation Friendship

1. BJ’s insistence that Everything Is Fine

2. Hawkeye’s insistence on playing nurse-maid, constantly staying by his bed, making suggestions for an ice pack, an insurance exam, etc. (and I have that post queued up that talks about how genders are constructed differently in the 4077th, ex. Doctor and Nurse, rather than Man and Woman, but also Caregiver and Care-needer, Protector and Protected, Senior Officer and Lower Ranking, everything that Klinger does, including “Just A Guy From Toledo” and “Maxine,” Daddy/Dad/Father and Mommy/Mom/Mother (not related to Man and Woman), Sir and Ma’am (also not related to Man and Woman), etcetcetc and they’re not necessarily as binary or rigid as they may be perceived here either!)

3. Hawkeye’s caretaking of BJ is not the same as BJ’s caretaking of Hawkeye, and BJ doesn’t like it! He acquiesced to it back in Period of Adjustment because he was at his lowest and therefore couldn’t help it + he’d hit Hawkeye earlier and I’d HC that plays into it, but it’s far more often BJ-in-support-of-Hawkeye (whether it be a scheme and/or a mental state and/or physical support -- I mean protecting him from getting beaten up of course...)

that’s their Roles! Hawkeye is messing with the Order Of Things!

4. Hawkeye’s territorialism???? His possessiveness?????????? 

5. going back to BJ’s insistence that Everything Is Fine: I just wrote in a tag that BJ s4-7 seemed to (basically, simplifying here) frame him as “sure he has issues too but it’s a war, and maybe there’s some performativity to his Self, first really highlighted by the surprise that he’d be the mastermind of pranks when he’s just a good American boy, and then seen several times ex. in the mystery of his name, but ultimately he’s trucking”

and then s8 was like “what if BJ is just straight-up losing his mind and ability to place himself in the future and desperately clawing for that future (which looks too much like the past) and possibly knowing it can never be that way, and sometimes he just snaps I Guess!

Hawkeye Is supposed to be the frayed one. He’s got Issues, that’s what everyone knows. BJ is an amiable, getting-along-with-things, Father and Husband. He takes care of Hawkeye, not the other way around! Not like this!

6. the ending of the episode once again forcing BJ to acknowledge a need for help in the face of literally being about to lose his hand. My guy. You can... ask for help sooner.... it’s...... it’s cool.......... (it isn’t)

(his hand looks so bad!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

7. Also the ending of the episode having Hawkeye relinquish his need to take care of him, again because he could actually lose his hand!!! 

What! Am! I Supposed! To! Make! Of! The! Metaphor?! Of it all???? The Symbolism???? The Dissolving Of Stability!????

8. BJ still taking the time to threaten the doctor when he’s talking Hawkeye down!

9. the fact that they both laugh about how they could’ve just let BJ die in order to get the last laugh on the hand specialist guy. It’s morbid sure, but it’s not just that, it’s... idk. The only way they could talk about how fucking close that one was? Skirting around the Ways they both went about the whole thing? Deliberately restoring equilibrium with the most tasteless joke BJ could think of, testing the waters to make sure everything is fine again

also the way they both gang up on the specialist... rewatching it, because I felt like he wasn’t that obnoxious, he was just stating that he has a speciality and would like to be respected for it, as well as literally having practised medicine for longer than either of them, while Hawkeye hovers over him and tries to find reasons to critique... and yeah, they were definitely coping by finding a scapegoat there, good thing he wasn’t sticking around for longer, they would have been such mean girls! But they needed that too in order to cope

TL;DR BJ and Hawkeye were so okay this whole episode, except for the fact that they were utterly unhinged about each other, about social (gender) roles, and about needing and giving help

[universallywriting]

I see you’re doing prompts! How about some Jinx and Echo with 66. It’s not you, it’s my enemies and 57. Forgotten first meeting? I really like their relationship of being childhood friends to enemies and I love how you write them!

Title: Brain Eater

Pairing: Jinx x Ekko

Length: 1450 words

post S3 maybe? idk.

https://universallywriting.tumblr.com/post/641505013940846593/fanfiction-trope-mash-up

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Trialcum Silocide. It's not uncommon in Zaun. The street name is Brain Eater, because it's an awful poison and an awful way to die. The upside is that it's slow, and the cure isn't hard to come by, so as long as you can get to a friend it's not much to worry about.

Thing is, Ekko's home and friends aren't exactly easy to access, and he's inhaled enough Brain Eater that he's probably got a week before it finishes him off. For most people that's plenty of time, but Ekko lives the kind of life where he could be dead before someone finds him. Anyone who cares about him could help him, though. It's an easy fix.

Jinx just isn't sure which memories he has and which he doesn't, and she'd rather not get murdered because he's forgotten all the nice parts of her.

That's why she's following him in the shadows, hoping he'll make all the right turn to his stupid little tree town. He's getting close, and then he starts going the wrong way. Of course he does.

"You lost?" she asks, because she's stupid. Her hand isn't on her gun because if he's going to swing at her, she's not going to fight. She's going to run. And that's not sympathy or kindness, oh no, it's because she hasn't rigged this place to the sky with bombs, and she knows she's not going to survive a fight without them.

He looks at her casually and she's able to relax. He's lost chunks of himself in a way that won't end with him chasing her home, pouring bullets in her back. His hands slip into his pockets. He grins. He talks like butter. "Girl, do I know you?"

It's not how he usually talks. That's the trialcum, she's sure. Jinx steps up beside him with a smile. "I think you got hit with some Brain Eater darts. I'm just gonna walk you home."

His eyes go up and down her torso, and she stiffens again. Why is he looking at her with his thinking face? Does he remember? Is he going to shoot? She hears him whistle and begins to take a step back, waiting for the worst, but he says, "Our home? Am I that lucky?"

Holy shit he's hitting on her.

She can feel her cheeks scorch as it all makes sense, that his slow, sweet way of talking is flirting. No wonder she's never heard it. No wonder he seems so weird. Without his memories, he thinks she's pretty. He thinks she's hot.

Which doesn't matter. Duh. It shouldn't matter, so it doesn't. It doesn't bother her. That's why she can hold up her hands and chuckle, "Hey, I'm just a nice stranger walking you home. Your home."

He looks at her, memories dim but brain as sharp as ever. Brain Eater is a bit of misnomer, after all. It's not slowing down his thoughts. He's still the same clever guy he's always been. He just has some chunks of his past missing.

He says slowly, "If we're strangers, how do you know where I live?"

"You're the boy savior. Everyone knows you." She lies fast and easy and grabs his forearm in an aggressively friendly way. Jinx tries to drag him down the alley, to his stupid little tree house, though nerves are starting to make it hard to breathe. "Come on. We'll get you to your place and you can work on your adventures with that furry little guy you like."

"But-"

"Oh, no need to thank me," she says regally. "It's all in a day's work."

He grabs her hand, spinning her around, and she gasps as she finds herself boxed in between his curious eyes and the brick wall behind her. If Ekko had his memories, she wouldn't have let him do that. She would have been prepared for it. But she doesn't know what to think about the man in front of her who has a brain full of poison.

Ekko says in this deep voice that isn't so sweet, "Memory is stored in the body too. The muscle. I know you. I don't remember you, but I can feel it. Are you an ex?"

Fuck. Fuck. Her heart pounds in her chest, and Mylo says that Ekko can probably hear it. Mylo says she fucked it up. Vi is chuckling. Ooh, Little Man's coming for my sister? Am I gonna have to do something about you?

Her voice is too raspy as she replies. "Yeah. An ex. Ended badly."

Jinx swallows, unable to stop taking in his broad nose, his full lips, the hard, handsome angles of his cheeks. He's handsome. It doesn't matter to her that he's handsome, of course, but she notices. He's close so she notices.

She drops her eyes, because she doesn't think he's going to hurt her and because looking up into his face is making Vi wolfwhistle in that jeering, sisterly kind of way. Jinx tells him, "I've got a lot of enemies you couldn't handle. We can't be together. Their fault."

He reaches up to straighten her hair. Like he's allowed. He's not allowed. Maybe he braided her hair a little when they were little, and she braided his, but they don't do that anymore, and her hair isn't something that he's allowed to touch.

That's what she should tell him, but she's looking at the hour glass on his face. It looks good. It's art. She likes art. Likes admiring art. When tingles go down her spine, it has to be from the beauty of the paint, not the calloused tips of his fingers.

"That doesn't sound right," he says. "I'm pretty sure I wouldn't get scared off by Enforcers. Or Silco. Fighting bad guys is kind of my thing."

Mylo snickers, Is there anything you aren't crap at, Powder?

"I broke it off." Her voice sounds thin to her own ears. How has she started staring up into his face again? She forces lightness and laughter into her voice. "To protect you. Real romantic of me, I know, but that's me. And here I am walking you home, protecting you again. It's kind of ironic, when you think about it."

He's undeterred. "Can I kiss you?"

She fumbles madly in her pockets. He's making confused sounds. Everyone is making confused sounds. She hisses shut the fuck up because it's easier sometimes to just say it, to snap it, and a neon green chalk marker flicks across Ekko's arm. Those are directions to get him home, and his name, and across his palm she's written all caps TRIALCUM SILOCIDE.

Jinx shoves the marker into his hand. "Cross off each step as you do it, okay? So you won't lose track of where you are."

"Were were..." His face wrinkles in thought as he peers at her. "We haven't kissed?"

"No!" It bursts from her - half as a scream, half as a laugh. "Are you crazy? No. No! I don't kiss people, Ekko."

She places her fingers against her chest with a more clear laugh, stabilizing the world and ignoring the sounds of ghosts in her ears. She explains, as regally as ever, "See, I'm a jinx. I'm like an omen of death. If I kissed you, you'd be dead in a week. Even without the poison."

He shrugs. "I've got plenty of targets on my back already."

Stupid. He's so stupid. She's so stupid! She's stupid for trying to help, stupid for caring at all. She should kiss him. She should take him for all he'll give and next time he's back to normal she could say "hey, you missed me? Missed me since you kissed me?" and everyone would be confused, and off their game, and he'd have to explain to all his friends that he kissed her.

Wanted her.

Wouldn't that be stupid? Wouldn't that be embarrassing? For all his little friends to know that they'd clashed together in an alley with hands and mouth and he was the one who started it. How fucking ridiculous. How crazy.

"Go home," she says, and ducks under his arm with lead in her stomach. "Stick around me and you're bound to get shot."

She disappears into the shadows. He follows the instructions she left him. She knows that, because she's back to following him. It's stupid to follow him, but less stupid than talking to him was. So she creeps behind, watching the broad form of his back, forcing her heart to calm in her chest.

Vi's voice is cool in her ear, You did the right thing, Powpow. You know how pissed I'd be if you got Little Man killed too?

She knows. Fuck. She knows.