#this one was really fun to answer hehe

[selfship-shenanigans]

“Yo! Gan—can I call you that? Probably not—Ganondorf, you should answer 💙 and 🦋 for that ask game!” -Blue

"That's Lord Ganondorf to you." -he sighs frustratedly- "I swear to Hylia, if I hadn't let Ray talk me into this... You people have no respect for those superior to you."

💙: What are some things that (S/I) does that are just so (S/I) to you?

"Staying up all night drawing or reading, sneaking out of bed for midnight snacks from the castle kitchens and hoping I won't notice, rambling endlessly about whatever topic they've been obsessing over recently, the adorable hand-flapping they do when they get excited... the list goes on."

🦋: What talent does (S/I) have that awes you?

"I suppose that it shouldn't come as a surprise to me, given their job as a tailor, but Ray's skill with a needle and thread is quite incredible to watch. They have an excellent eye for detail, and the patience required to go from raw materials to a complete item or even set of clothing - of the highest quality as well - never fails to impress. I treasure everything they've made for me over the years."

[randygrim]

Eep, sorry that happened. ;-; Hey, maybe to get your mind off of it, tell me some Ryley headcanons if you want? c:>

OOO YES i will talk abt him any day :D

I headcanon that Ryley had a pretty high pain tolerance before the crash, but after living on 4546B for a decent chunk of time he can ignore pretty much any pain.

Since he zaps himself with the repair gun like its nothing, and im assuming its atleast a small electric shock, he can deal with sudden sharp bursts of pain easily already.

He also sticks his hand in the repulsion gun, getting atleast (insert condition that is whiplash but for muscles in general. Could google it but erm that didnt go well) and heavy bruising, only to just kinda keep walking like nothing happened?? Obv thats for gameplay reasons but im rolling with it.

Both of these things point to a high pain tolerance already. Pus being on the planet so long, with different adrenaline highs and crashes, it would become easy to ignore "minor" aches and pains or even small cuts and bruising because hes had worse and FELT worse.

And as the kharaa takes hold im thinking that it causes a dull pain on top of the consequences of straining your body constantly, and numbs some of his extremeties so he can only feel the pulsing pain from the kharaa and not if he is cut or bitten.

Building off the numbness that replaces feeling with pain, i bet that would be super freaky for him to experience when we see him use his extremeties VERY frequently to sense things or pry open things. So lack of feeling and coordination from the numbness would be especially catastrophic for him

ALSO kinda seperate but building off the previous statements, i think Ryley has hypermobility!

Im going purely based on my personal experience and the fact that in his stretching animation, after he wakes up, his elbows go WELL past the point of regular flexibility. (probably not what the animators were intending but ya boy does not get any other form of hypermobile representation so im latching onto this)

BUT BCLY im thinking that Ryley has hypermobility, specifically caused by the connective tissue disorder Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (H-EDS). Since H-EDS causes pain from all those tissues not working right, im thinking this is why Ryley has a decent pain tolerance to start, and then as he does impulsive things like testing machinery on himself, he slowly builds a pretty high pain! And then the rest of my theorizing before this happens!! :D

Also yeah im just projecting my condition on my fav guy. It is my favroite hobby to blast them with illness beams and justify it afterwords.

[beartitled]

I absolutely am proud of the work you do. And I appreciate what you draw no matter what fandoms as it's wonderful. But I'm curious if you're falling interest out of Stanley Parable? I know it's a silly question. But I've seen a lot artists fall out and just wanted to check.

Even if i came from that era. I'll still support your adventures no matter what!💖

Awww glad you enjoy my art ❤️💞🥹 Your support means a lot ❤️

I wouldn’t say I lost interest in TSP, I just not actively creating content for the fandom nowadays + moved on to other things

Do you mean “fall out” as leave the fandom entirely? Then nope

I think many ppl in the fandom went through “narrator to oc” pipeline (me included 😈) and started moving away from the og game

Which is a good thing on my opinion

It frees people to create and explore without being restrained by the canon

Or some ppl just moved on to different things/fandoms, which is totally normal

It’s actually very impressive to me how an office simulator with a British guy/silly

attracted such creative fanbase, like damn 💥

Tsp is my first fandom I actively took part in (and I would say the longest from the fandoms I were in so far), so TSP will always have a place in my tiny bear heart 🐻‍❄️❤️

[sysig]

Go play pretend on your own (Patreon)

[stephany2703]

I need Hazel and Estefanía to meet and bond over their boyfriends being so similar

"Boyfriends" so they finally confessed thank God

Ehem-

Ok, nowadays I don't think they're really similar anymore, this frame was just too convenient

Anyway, there goes nothing...

Nia without her glasses should work lol

If both loveletter and sweet perfume are finally dating then these girlies won't stop talking about the complicated situations that they had to go through before finally being together lol

But I discovered something else that they have in common...

[otwdfanfic]

For the httyd questions!! 1, 6 and 9 maybe?

1: The first movie is what got me, but I didn't actually watch it until almost a year after release! I collected the mcdonalds toys (and pretended to be Toothless in my backyard?) but my parents would not splurge for me to see it in theaters so I had to wait and watch a copy online haha. To this day I will never forget the feeling I had watching Hiccup fall into the fire with Toothless diving after him for the first time. It was such an 'oh shit' moment of recognizing that I had never seen something that powerful? meaningful? important? in a movie before. I was very impressed that the studio had told a story catering to my interests and feelings. I guess that was the exact moment that started it all haha

6: So aside from my #1 hiccstrid which is probably the most common ship, of the canonish options I really loved when Ruffnut was pining after Eret in the second movie and I think they really compliment each other, since he's so level headed compared to her zaniness but also is a pretty loud boastful guy! And it would be funny if he got not only accidentally adopted into a new tribe but also accidentally adopted as a fiance at the same time haha. He'd be so confused but end up falling for her despite himself.

I can't see Ruff with the other boys, who had plenty of chances to woo her in RTTE and the second movie but were never right for her. Plus then they're free for fishlout <3 which is the real standout ship from RTTE for me. It does so much for both of their character development even with the canon crumbs we get. And if rufflegs has to be canon, then Snotlout should absolutely end up with Eret! His one-sided rivalry in THW screams "crush I don't know how to deal with"

A very unlikely ship of mine is Eret and Heather. I feel like they could go sooo well together, I've even considered going that route in my modern au but I think I'll probably stick to my rufferet roots? I guess I just keep shipping everyone with Eret, huh? I once had a dream that I was dating Kit Harington, maybe that's got something to do with it

9: Hiccup, always. I'm always aspiring to be Astrid, but really I'm not very much like her at all. As a kid I really related to him in the first movie due to his rocky relationship with a parent and his whole not fitting in thing. Now I really, really relate to him as an adult in the second and third movie. I don't want to get too deep, but like him the loss of that same parent was my cue to step up into new adult responsibilities, and I haven't really managed it. So I feel like I'm letting down my family if I continue to flounder, but also letting myself down if I settle into the role they want rather than running away on my own to find my own life. It feels very similar to his struggle between the tribe and the dragons. Fortunately I'm not really the chief of my family, so fingers crossed I'm able to get back on my feet soon and head out the door 🤞 I want the dragon life

Thanks for asking! I did sort of yap haha but when do I not

[honeydots]

What do you think Siegbert’s relationship with Laslow and Soleil’s relationship with Xander are like particularly as they get older/teenagers.

anon you're enabling me i LOVE their parent/child relationships as they get older!!! read more cause this got looooong

for laslow and siegbert--well first off, i think laslow always can provide a particular brand of emotionally-based support that develops more as siegbert gets older. siegbert has his Anxiety Issues, and where laslow and xander both struggle w sociality as well, i think laslow can relate in a more... empathetic way? dealing with some of the emotional aftermath and letting feelings be feelings (this isn't to say siegbert doesn't go to xander or that xander doesn't help, i just think they're good at different things). on a more lighthearted note, i think laslow's really good at getting a giggle out of siegbert, and good at finding ways to alleviate pressure. he's been doing this for years with xander. and yes, xander and siegbert need different things, but laslow's good at pinpointing those things

something i rly like abt their relationship is that i think that where siegbert more openly shows his idolization of xander (like we see in-game), he still does something really similar with laslow. looking up to him, taking inspiration from him. it just comes out in different ways. for example, siegbert probably trusts laslow's opinions... a lot. considers his sometimes more than his own. and he's just fascinated by the stories he tells. even after laslow's married to xander, i like to think he still travels (and drags xander with him as often as he can--and also drags their kids along as often as he can hahaha), and those stories in particular really entrap siegbert. which is good for a budding prince, i think something laslow (and eventually siegbert and soleil) has that xander lacks is some open mindedness, and not being so narrowly nohr-centric in his perspective--esp in upbringing, if that makes sense. this is also why i like laslow taking xander traveling, cause ultimately i think it would do him good.

ONTO!!! soleil and xander!! ive mentioned before how much i like the grumpy-dad and peppy-daughter dynamic, but. to reiterate: i really really like it gjsjfjsnf soleil, similarly to laslow but probably even more, tends to go to xander and ramble about her girl successes and failures. just barging into his office like i hope you're not busy cause i have things to SAY!! and i don't think xander dismisses her, but he does make her wait sometimes, hahaha. i also think xander will often tell soleil what she needs to hear, rather than what she wants, and ultimately for her that's better than the alternative. he's not entirely harsh (though he can be and that's something to work on), but honest. he also dotes on her more than he should by a xander-standard LOL

i think soleil provides to xander a lot of brightness--it is NOT lost on me that they named her soleil, sun, in a place like nohr. i think surrounding xander with bright people is a fantastic idea. and just like laslow's doing with the traveling thing, soleil probably gets xander to socialize a little more, haha. he isn't a brick wall that can't talk to anybody, but--he does strike me as the kind of guy who has coworkers, but not friends, ya feel me. soleil's confident and full of energy, and tbh i think she's the type to really want attention from her parents, so asking xander to come along with her is a frequent request. and that eventually, naturally, leads to xander getting out more. she doesn't have the same setback as laslow that if he gets shy enough he'll retreat entirely while they're out, hahaha

and one final note to round this off: i like to think!! that xander and soleil are both cat people (xander = cabbit, and soleil has lines about owning kitten posters), where laslow and siegbert are dog people (i have many aus where laslow has a pet dog so this is more of a 'because i said so' kinda thing) (also you might be inclined to think cat for siegbert also but i need you to look inward. deeper. i think he'd like the enthusiasm...!!! i have more i could say but i'll leave it at that)

there you go!! :D

[wayward-sherlock]

so sorry for showing up in your inbox unannounced but i need you to know that i read “me trick or treating tn (i was max) vs my brother (he was a cactus)” and just burst out laughing that is the funniest mental image to meeeeeeee ok that’s all hope you had so much fun tn!! 🫡

hi suni!! no worries, you’re always welcome in my ask box :) announced or unannounced 🫶

AJSNDKDK THAT IS SO FUNNY im sure we were quite a sight. girl [?] in an obviously niche costume, wearing 80s clothes, a walkman, and blood under her [?] eyes and a dude walking around looking like a cactus. i wish i could share the pics of us together bc our fits went so hard 😎 halloween is so silly and i love it so much.

[keylovesstuff]

My turn!

🏅for the ask game.

🏅 What is the fic you’re most proud of?

Ooooh, this is a little toughie!!! I try to feel really confident when it comes to everything I post (I be like "Yo this is the most amazing thing I've ever done," and all that stuff) cause If I don't feel it then I don't think others will (even though it's online and you can't really tell...I hope I'm making sense).

I'm proud of all my fics for different reasons lol...but I think I'd have to choose "Lost and Found" for several different reasons.

It was the first story I posted in an entirely different fandom

First story I posted where I didn't run it by my beta reader

Finally, it was the first story I ever posted where I shared it somewhere else (here) other than where I posted it. (Up until recently, I just would post it on FFN or on AO3 and just keep it moving for the day 🤭)

I think what really made me want to share it on here was interacting with others and seeing them share their stuff and just how nice and supportive everyone is and I know different fandoms can be like that but it's just something about the Mario fandom on here that's like really sweet and I love it!! 🥰🥰🥰

[lavenoon]

Hi! :D Ok, so where to start? Man, it really hurts to see Robin so disillusioned with it all. Of course they show no interest in the new neighbors and now their job feels more like a drag rather than the thing that brought them a sense of fulfillment. Though I smiled at them being so critical of the security over in Eclipse's sector haha, even if they're not giving it their all, they still are very much a professional at what they do and it shows.

The fact that they also become quickly endeared to Eclipse is very cute, and very understandable because he's so earnest, even if it exasperates them that he basically easily revealed his identity, the one thing that when they found out about their other coworkers sent them into a worse spiral. But also that earnestness is what managed to break at that tough front that was harming them as they struggled to keep it up. And he relates so easily to them to, and Robin can't help it that he looks right through them! Because he can see so much of his own hurt in them now. It makes sense that he wants to help fix it, even if he himself hasn't found how to fix the communication problem the three brothers have.

In a way I wonder if he did something similar to Robin, in the sense that he latched himself to Robin's hurt to try and make it better, just how Robin latched onto Eclipse's situation to feel the anger they want to feel for themselves but feel like they don't deserve to (because by now they've convinced themselves they weren't that important to Sun and Moon, assuming they had mistaken it as the animatronics caring more than they did). Not to say that they didn't feel for the other genuinely of course! Just that it's easier trying to solve someone else's problems than facing your own sometimes. I do like how Eclipse is the first one who doesn't let Robin convince themself that they hate them. No need to try to worsen the hurt, even if the statement is turned back on him immediately.

It's funny that something did blow up, though it wasn't an experiment XD (sidenote: I hope Robin does get to blow up stuff with Eclipse eventually haha) "I would've left me, too!" though? Ouch. I know Sun didn't have time to process that, but I hope he and Moon can address that later. Clearly a glimpse into one of their worst insecurities that they guard so closely. (other sidenote: Eclipse was like, haha, brother gonna get told off, and then realized oh crap brother might get actually threatened her kjhkjhkñh)

But also Sun is clearly not too capable to paying attention to that right now, so affected he even raised his voice to the person he only knew as his dear friend and landlord.

Though Eclipse saves the day once again with the groupchat of friendship! They're all obviously exhausted by everything, so having the chat as a tentative window where they don't need to be that exposed and just say what they want to say at their own pace is smart. After all, you can't take back words you said, but you can rewrite a message until you are satisfied with it.

And also, the funniest hing to me in this chapter is the agency. They really were like: Robin you might get fired if you don't improve. >:(

Robin: Aight, peace.

The agency: N-no wait, I didn't mean it, come back please :'(

But overall the hopeful ending was really relieving! You always manage that feeling of being able to breathe again after a tough one! Great writing as always!

Robin: Fuck the agency I don't care anymore Also Robin: Smh the security here is lacking, how dare? They are just kinda going through the motions for a while there, only focused on how they lost their friends and any pride in the job they do in one go. Truly, two birds, one stone.

Robin: I've had Eclipse for an hour and a half and if anything happened to him I would kill everyone in this room and then myself Eclipse: Oh we're friends now! Okay okay I will. I will try to not make a meme out of every part of your comment fghdjs Ties into your next paragraph as well - they recognize the pain of the other, and the similar coping styles, with Eclipse a couple years into pretending he's fine. They get angry on his behalf, partly because it's an infuriating position to be in, and partly because they can't get angry on their own behalf. And vice versa in Eclipse - he sees this person in a very similar situation to him, and they're devastated and it's obvious (to him). And he realizes that oh, right, he does have a reason to be sad. He's allowed to feel abandoned and to admit it sucks. Because he faked being okay so long he felt like he'd lost the right to say it did actually bother him.

Please know that if this were the main timeline I'd add many more conversations that address these issues, same as Robin's "I would've left me too". It goes unaddressed, but not unnoticed. To address it there needs to be a baseline of trust again though, so they need to focus on establishing that (That, and that the threat was on his account. Because while he obviously and knowingly relates, he didn't think that Robin might relate too, and do something about it. It's rare enough that anyone would stand up for him.)

No one's having a good time - but they all want this to work, they all miss each other, and they're finally admitting that to each other. They can't get it all out then, but they want to, because they care. It gives them a line of contact - a "flyway" to each other <3 (*Using a very, very loose definition of course)

HQ sure got used to having them try so hard to impress them! But they seek their validation elsewhere these days. They prefer having a family, in the end.

And aaahhh thank you!! The good thing had to get a lil longer to make it feel natural, but it was tons of fun to write! <3

[perilegs]

if someone has a crush on you how would you react? just as a hypothetical situation ha ha

[oflolth]

Astarion watched on as she screamed. As she fought. As she pleaded in one breath then codenamed him to death the next. There was nothing that could be done about the rope tearing into her wrists - the ability to reason ended when Sen collapsed into the ground and awoke something feral. In case some part of her, any part of her, could hear him through her urge, he responded when she spoke. If the roles were reversed, she'd do the same for him. This he has no doubt. Mayhaps if the roles were reversed she would have listened to the warning signs much sooner than he had. How callously he dismissed this when it rose to his attention. Something always smelled desperate and depraved about Sen. Astarion had laughed about it. Then the bard girl ended up mauled to death feet away from where they all slept and the sweet, flower like scent of her blood was all over his companion. He did not say a word to the others but he knew. There was no blame cast Sen's way though she was clearly the one responsible but the only thing he said about it was be more subtle. Sometimes he even wonders what's wrong with him when he's lost in his retrospection. A grin tugs at his lips when the answer comes to mind swiftly - there was too much wrong with him to count. Here though he has an opportunity to do what he didn't before - an opportunity to do things right. His dear Sen was drenched in sweat by the time she finally stopped trashing against her bonds. It's only when the he can smell the hormones calming in her blood as her heart began to regulate that he moved his hand closer to gently brush her hair from her face, latching to her cheek in cold stick. He was not afraid of her nor would he be threatened by her demons. Come morning when her eyes finally woke and his Sen was brought back to him he would vow to them both whatever this was that was corrupting her she would be saved in it.

@starlatan // morning breaks, and her mind is her own again.

her mind is her own, there is blood in her mouth, and she is sweat - drenched and disgusting, good eye blurred from bad sleep, and - gods, the relief she feels when she sees his face is of a strength to split open her chest.

astarion is still alive. she has not wrested herself of her bindings and wrapped her fingers round his neck. small mercies.

she thinks of isobel, dead, and wishes she'd had the foresight to carry that act through. but then she's hovering, uncertain. would it have changed anything?

perhaps it would've netted her more time, but how much more? a month with astarion, before the next impossible choice was dropped unwanted in her lap?

she is a selfish little beast - now that she knows he is on the bargaining table, she may spill rivers of blood in his name. but... not for anyone but him.

not even for that tangled thing that is the urge and her intertwined.

the urge, quiet yet still gnawing at the back of her mind, is enjoying her thoughts of blood - it makes itself known in a little rush. sen shies away from it like a startled bird. still, as soon as its shown itself, it is gone again. tired, maybe.

but it is still there. it still may take him.

maybe she can sleep by a sussur flower. maybe she can be kept away from sharp objects. maybe she can be locked up every night like some rabid dog. maybe-

look, desperate times invite drastic measures.

what feels heaviest is that she has betrayed his trust. he does not fear her - the one who he should fear most. it had taken a while for her to understand just how hard - won his trust truly was. she'd believed it there long before it really had been.

now, if he has any sense - and sen knows his sense far outweighs hers, has known that a long time - he will run for the hills. had she no parasites, she would advocate for just such an escape, and insist he embark on it immediately; as things stand, bound by tadpoles as they are, they'll have to find another way. those aforementioned drastic measures.

her voice is a bit raw when she first speaks, but as she goes, it warms. " i think i'm alright now. " all caveats aside. her eyes meet his for a moment and then shift awkwardly away. he's seen her feral before. he's seen her bite. it's just that she's never bitten him.

hells, had she tried last night? a memory floats back to her, and her eyes go wide.

that explains the blood in her mouth, though. her eyeteeth pricking her own tongue. she runs it against her teeth again now, and the feeling grounds her.

what would he do, were the roles reversed? a joke, maybe. he can always tease out a smile, even in the worst of circumstances. she looks up at him, and tries for levity. " do you remember when i asked you if your tadpole gave you a hallucinatory butler? i know you probably gave up any hope of my sanity then, but- "

it feels flat. she gives up, and her teeth worry at her lip. " gods, i- " she's a bit worried that if she keeps talking she's going to burst into tears. which can't possibly be something either of them want, so she holds her tongue. but a few moments pass, and the quivering of her lip ceases, and then she speaks without tossing composure out the window. " do you want some, er, sorry i tried to murder you consolation blood? no? um. " she stares miserably at the ground. " that was a joke. not that you can't have blood, if you want it, but i- " gods, has her charisma entirely flown the coop? has the dark urge scared it away?

( yes, the dark urge has scared her charisma away. at least temporarily. )

" i'm- " she looks up at him again. " i'm glad you're alright. and- i'm sorry. and- " she clears her throat, feeling as awkward as an addled - if potentially lethal - duckling. " and thank you. i- you know, now, that i really- i couldn't stand it if anything- if anything were to happen. to you. but this thing- the part of me that- gods, or maybe it is just all of me, and the rest is just playing at beyond something else. " she breaks off, swearing. " but it's- i'll get like that again. it's never stayed away for very long. and i'm not feeding it like i should, but i- i have fed it. it knows i'm not very good at- " she breaks off, swearing. " i'm not good at restraint. "

[soyoursoulisgreen]

3, 4, 19, 20!

3. What ideas come from when you were little

I have two OCs that have really stood the test of time: Akane and Kin - though their names have changed over time haha ♪ They were the first ever queer couple I made, long long loooong before I was out even to myself and shock among shocks, they're angels lol ♥ I remember I even wrote a short story about them from like - middle school probably?? as part of an assignment haha. They've been with me for a loooong time, and I'm still very fond of them 💕

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw

GLaDOS is so beautiful and I am so bad at drawing machine parts jfdklsasdf. I'm determined to draw her from both games now tho! Her design in Portal 1 is so weird!! <3

19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.)

Plushies, no contest. Drawings the seams and darts and stitches and wear and fluff and fabric vs. fur I just ugh it's all so satisfying! The way the cloth folds over itself or stands firm on its own over well-stuffed filling! I love plushies!! Funny enough, I rarely use them as props tho haha - that's usually things like books, cups, pencils, etc.

20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy

I haven't heard the complaint in earnest in a while, just in a jokey fashion, but I really really enjoy drawing hands :) Hand expressions are so fun to me! They're just as expressive as faces - especially masked characters haha - and they're so versatile! Come in so many shapes, some hard, some rubberhose wiggly, some sharp and Shaped, but they still all emote similarly. Even just slight position changing can change the temperature of how it reads! It's a challenge for sure but it's just so satisfying >:3c

[sysig]

Challenge level: Impossible (Patreon)

[forlix]

· . ˚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞

— the little mannerisms you pick up from the members of stray kids over the course of your relationship.

words・3.7k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / genres・fluff, humor, borderline crack, intentional lowercase, established relationship(s) / warnings・minsung’s are suggestive, touch of anxiety in felix's, jeongin's is lowkey gross LMFAO

a/n・massive shoutout to @/http.dwaekkii on tiktok for their edits about the boys' habits, which i consulted for chan, changbin, seungmin, and jeongin (and to @astraystayyh for beta reading hehe. what would i do without u). these were sooooo fun to write, hope u guys enjoy (｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )

chan + getting shy easily. poor thing gets embarrassed so quickly as it is. throw you into the mix and it’s just critical hit after critical hit. defense lowered. no health potions left. he folds like a lawn chair with a massive smile and a whiny “stooooop” every time you say something even remotely affectionate. the habit is adorable, and you love it to pieces.

but you like poking fun at it even more. “god forbid i find my literal underwear model of a boyfriend attractive,” you’d say, or something along those lines, which of course only triples his embarrassment and on more than one occasion results in him starfishing on your kitchen floor, his hood pulled over his face.

fast forward however many months. he’s still the worst compliment-receiver you know, but you discover one arbitrary afternoon that it’s rubbed off on you.

the two of you are cuddled together on the living room couch in your usual fashion, your legs thrown over his thighs and his hands tracing absently over your shins as you relay to him something you overheard on the subway. the conversation is painfully normal. you’re almost bored. you pause to take a breath, and he murmurs, out of nowhere, in the dreamiest tone: “so damn beautiful.”

“wha—huh? what is?”

“you. your voice, your face, everything. i‘m lucky.”

your expression of bewilderment persists for around ten seconds, and then slowly, so slowly, you begin to sandwich your head between your knees, balling yourself up like a spooked armadillo. chan wonders if he should call an ambulance.

“love?” no response. “what, uh, what’s happening right now, exactly?”

no response. no response. then, hoarsely, “you can’t...say shit like that…randomly.”

he notices two things after that. one, your skin is burning hot enough to fry something upon, and two, you’ve formed a fist in the fabric of his hoodie, which you only do when you’re pretending to be annoyed at him. the puzzle pieces fall into place, and he starts grinning like a madman.

“you’re…embarrassed?”

the guttural groan you emit is more than enough of an answer, and the cute aggression that overcomes chan is fucking debilitating. he wraps his arms around you and hauls you entirely off the couch and onto his lap, littering kisses over your face until it finally resigns into a matching smile. all intent to continue feigning grumpiness erased with the drop of a hat. you drape an arm over his neck.

“you’re so good to me, channie,” you sigh helplessly. “i love you.”

“love you more, baby.” he imprints these words directly upon your lips, then pulls away, giggles. “that was very me of you, by the way.”

“i know, right? i was just about to say.”

minho + butt touching. it’s quite simple, really. if lee minho is within proximity of someone’s buttocks, he will, as he lives and breathes, make it known. will it be a coy little swat or a yelp-eliciting, full-bodied grab? nobody ever knows, not even him. the unpredictability is what makes it exciting.

but it takes a while before this starts applying to you, because the way minho touches you is…different. doting. there’s no other way to describe how he always holds the nape of your neck while kissing you, how he rests a hand against the small of your back whenever he leads you somewhere, how during the nights you can’t sleep he guides you to the place on his chest where he knows his heartbeat is loudest. he even drags you into his trademark headlocks the same way one would hold an invaluable treasure. he’s so obsessed with all of you that he never thinks to pay just your butt special attention (though it is, indeed, a special butt).

you take it into your own hands. literally.

you don’t know what prompts it—maybe you’ve simply seen minho slap his members’ asses one too many times, or maybe you’re still thinking of the specific time minho slapped changbin’s ass in passing and it fucking echoed, or maybe minho just looks especially fine in this practice outfit, a skintight tee and washed sweatpants that hug him in all the right places—but you feel a new urge today as your boyfriend swings his duffel over his shoulder, circles around the kitchen counter.

he puckers up as he nears you, silently requesting his goodbye; you give it to him, relishing for a moment in the familiar, soft plush of his lips beneath yours. then he pulls away and turns to leave, and your hand acquires its target.

“go get ‘em, tiger.” thwack!

minho jumps a foot into the air. clutches his pearls and his left butt cheek. becomes the splitting image of that perplexed blonde lady surrounded by geometry.

but when he turns around to stare at you, the smirk melting across his face betrays how he really feels about what you’ve just done. good. really good.

you, meanwhile, look genuinely confused. “it’s like it moved on its own.”

minho beams. steps towards you daintily, intentionally, like a cat catching sight of a laser beam. brings a hand to your hip, murmurs, “that’s what we’re doing now?” kisses you again, for longer this time.

you fully foresee his fingers wandering to your ass to give it a gentle squeeze, but you reach up to cuff his shoulder when it happens anyways, and his laugh vibrates against your mouth. it seems you’ll be reaping what you’ve sown from now on.

(good luck.)

changbin + the Cackle™. yes, you said something exceptionally funny. yes, you expected changbin to find it funny too. but you couldn’t expect the godforsaken noise that left his mouth as he threw himself straight into the tree planter behind you.

your mind spun with frantic questions as you helped him out of the dirt. had the spirit of spongebob just usurped his vocal cords? were you on a date with the wicked witch of the west? most importantly—

“are you well?” you sputtered, which only made him laugh harder and his laugh so much crazier, so you started laughing, too. and you were goners, falling over each other until you’d been reduced to watery eyes and sore cheeks, your giggling interrupted only by the sound of you slapping his thigh every so often, heartily enough to reverberate around the little park in which you concluded your second date.

that’s how you fall for seo changbin: laughing. with a reckless, breathless abandon you didn’t think possible. stumbling across empty sidewalks, spitting noodles across dining tables, begging for mercy on studio couches. wrestling under tear-stained comforters, starting (and re-starting) silly stories, huffing into beaming kisses. the list goes on.

you never quite get used to that chortle of his, too busy enjoying its insanity to notice how your own chuckles grow shorter and shriller, how they gradually develop an edge like the chittering of a forest dweller.

you complete your transformation on your ninety-eighth date. 

no, changbin doesn’t say anything exceptionally funny. no, he doesn’t expect you to find it exceptionally funny, either. he expects least of all for you to fold over the kitchen island and start cackling like cruella de vil on helium.

jisung turns around from his seat on the couch. chan’s footsteps come to a halt as he emerges from the bathroom. both of them have fear in their eyes as they witness your undoing.

the only thing on changbin’s face, though, is unfettered delight.

“b-baby,” he sputters with a growing smile. “are you—”

you lift your face off the marble surface and turn to face him. the entirety of your forehead and the point of your nose is covered in flour. you blow a cloud of the stuff out of your mouth like a dragon awoken from slumber.

he loses it.

the two of you make your way onto the floor in slow motion, ending in a tangled heap against the side of the counter. changbin tries to clean off the flour and smears it all over your cheeks instead. you are zero help whatsoever, smacking his bicep like that’ll help you catch your breath. your synchronized, diabolical laughter reaches every corner of the apartment. your happiness reaches every nerve ending.

chan and jisung look at each other and sigh. jisung takes a video.

hyunjin + side-eyeing. this man is so god awful at controlling his face, bless him…and DAMN HIM.

on one hand, you love how in tune with his emotions he is, how confidently he puts them on display. and you love your synergy. you come closer to believing in soulmates every time you glance his way and discover your exact feelings written all over his features; it’s a special type of happiness, sharing a brain with your favorite person in the world.

on the other hand, you think there’s a time and place for candor, and he tends, well, not to think at all. during many a precarious situation, you’ll catch him wearing an expression so transparent that he might as well arrange the words THIS IS STUPID AND I HATE ALL OF YOU over his head in neon lights. cue a dig of your heel into his toe, a hiss of pain cut short by your piercing glare. if you’d known ahead of time that dating hwang hyunjin would have you doing so much damage control…you’d still date him, let’s be real. but you do get stressed at times.

the night the tables turn, you’re at a celebratory dinner for your coworker’s birthday. small caveat: you can’t stand her. she’s the type to spontaneously combust if she goes two minutes without talking about herself. certainly doesn’t help that she’s downing champagne like water, and her lips are looser than ever.

hyunjin comes with you, fortunately. or not. he spends the whole evening trying so hard not to laugh: snorting into his bread, excusing himself to “cough.” you think he actually starts doing breathing exercises at some point. you’re so, so grateful that he’s here, but you’re also deathly afraid that he’s gonna bring out those neon lights in front of your entire office.

then, she flirts with him.

from the opposite end of the table. perfectly wasted but still knowing perfectly well that he’s yours. the whole patio goes silent. hyunjin’s jaw hits the table.

your fork clatters to your plate.

FUCK time and place.

the side-eye you give her is devastating. truly masterful. your brow furrows. your eyes turn to slits. your gaze does the up-down-up of unadulterated incredulity. hyunjin recognizes the motions straightaway and starts smiling so hard his whole face hurts.

you take your boyfriend’s wrist and stand up. he follows suit. you don’t say a thing as you leave the restaurant, and you don’t have to. the intensity of your disdain was more than enough; anything more and she might’ve started crying.

once you’re on the curb outside, hyunjin pulls on your interlocked hands, brings you close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear. you hear laughter and his smirk in his voice: “you might be the sexiest person on earth."

jisung + how he applies lip balm. that han jisung is the pioneer of modern day babygirlism is the worst kept secret in the world. that han jisung applies lip balm the riveting way he does, however, is unknown even to you. until one morning.

you pop into the bathroom and make your usual beeline for your toothbrush, only to end up motionless in front of the sink, staring. jisung is a bit off to the side, hair pinned back by a cinnamoroll headband, eyes glued to his phone, hand holding a tube of chapstick that you can actually see getting shorter in real time. he looks so pensive, so concentrated. how long has it been since he last blinked? you’ve half a mind to pull out a stopwatch.

finally, he rubs his lips together, recaps the chapstick, and makes eye contact with you in the mirror. a smile crosses his face, equal parts confused and amused.

“baby, your mouth is open.”

you close it. then you open it again, and your words come out in a barely-contained laugh: “what on earth did you just do?”

“what do you mean?”

“the—” you point at his mouth, then do your best impression of an elementary schooler trying to color inside the lines. “—that.”

jisung looks aghast. “that was LIP BALM.”

“no, i know what it—you’re so—i meant, why do you apply it like that?”

jisung continues to look aghast. “like what?”

“like you’re one of socrates’ prized pupils and the answer to the universe’s formation lies at the bottom of—” you step in close, reach into the pocket of his sweatpants. “—this tube!”

it might be the craziest thing you’ve ever said to him. he bursts into laughter, the kind that leaves him no recollection of what he does with his limbs, and when he can see straight again he discovers he’s pressed you gently against the counter. his fingers latched around the hem of your top, his grin inches away from yours. can’t stay away from you to save his life, this one.

“do i actually?”

“yes! holy shit, it’s so cute.” your arms circle around his neck, also without an ounce of thought, also through a fit of giggles. “no way you’ve always done that, right?”

“i don’t know. i’ve never thought about it.” a pause. a tilt of his head, with purpose. “am i…doing it wrong?”

the question is a trap and you realize it too late. your gaze drops from his eyes to his lips—a ray of sunlight glistens off the pink plush like a paid actor—then back to his eyes. let’s find out.

you lean in. so does he. and his mouth tastes and feels like melted fucking sugar. it’s such a pleasant surprise that you actually moan, and he chuckles against you. lifts you onto the edge of the sink. your mind really goes empty after that, save for one thought. i have to start doing that.

felix + checking his own pulse. you saw it from afar, the first time.

he stood by the stage’s entrance just before curtain up, pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of his neck. eyelids sealed closed, chest heaving. you tilted your head, puzzled. worried. then the concert began, and you pushed the image to the back of your mind.

it returned to the forefront right before bed.

“you do it when you’re nervous?”

“yeah. forces me to ground myself. turns off the world for a bit.” the hand rubbing circles into your back paused. “wanna give it a go?”

“what, checking my pulse?”

“mine.”

you lifted your head off the pillow. felix took your hand from where it sat upon his ribs, isolating two fingers and nestling them over his jugular. his quickened heartbeat pressed into your skin like the world’s gentlest tattoo.

the sixty seconds began and concluded in total silence.

“well?” he whispered.

“ninety-three,” you answered, lightheaded from the sheer intimacy of it all. “you’re nervous right now?”

“something like that,” he hummed. pulled you down, kissed you deeply. there were no more words exchanged that night.

the habit surfaced more than you knew. while driving to visit your parents. after a stupid argument with a bouquet of flowers tucked beneath his free arm. you started doing it for him in the times he couldn’t, and he’d cover your hand with his own and kiss the top of your head silently, gratefully.

two years have passed since, and you’ve vanished from the dinner table.

felix asks the nearest waiter for directions to the restrooms. you don’t notice when the door swings open, unmoving in your spot over the sink, your pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of your neck. 

his hand finds your hip. you let him turn you around and bring you to his chest; he glances at the crystalline droplets studding your lashes and falling from your cheeks. his eyes convey what his mouth doesn’t need to, not anymore.

let me.

you do.

his fingers replace yours the moment you drop them from under your jaw, the movement like clockwork. he counts your every heartbeat with unblinking concentration, his heart growing heavier the higher the number climbs.

the sixty seconds begin and conclude in total silence. 

“well?” you whisper.

“hundred and six,” he answers. to his confusion, a smile pulls at your lips. 

he wonders if it’s a trick of the bathroom lights when he sees the tiny box you pluck from your pocket, but there’s no mistaking the reality of the diamond ring that sits behind its open lid.

the earth slants under his feet.

“crazy.” you giggle through your tears, run your thumb over his cheekbone. “that’s how many years i want with you.”

seungmin + poking eyes(?) he’s hardly touched puppym when your voice is slicing through the living room air like a fucking beyblade. 

“KIM SEUNGMIN, UNHAND HIM THIS INSTANT.”

do you have a sixth sense just for this? he throws his hands up in exasperation. “he’s literally me. i’m allowed to do whatever i want with me.”

“he’s not you, he’s our son.” you pop out of nowhere to swipe the plushie from over your boyfriend’s shoulder. “my son, if you keep this up.”

“just say you hate me and my preferred avenues of self expression.”

upside-down, he watches you dust off puppym’s face and smooch his forehead with a tenderness that makes seungmin unhappier than he lets on. you then tuck him into your jacket pocket. the little shit’s expression looks strangely smug poking out of its cotton capsule.

“i’m asking you to not gauge his eyes out, not to deliver me the holy grail,” you say. “you’ll survive.”

but then he feels your hands on either side of his face, and you lean over him like the mj to his peter, leave a kiss on the space between his eyes, too. he has zero say in the bashful smile this brings to his face.

“but why do you do that, seriously?” you mutter.

“i have no idea,” he replies. “but it’s fun. try it.”

“i’ll think about it.” you lean in again, and he nearly forgets what you were talking about in the first place when you kiss him on the lips this time. “okay, i’ve thought about it. no.”

“hate you,” he says despite the literal hearts in his eyes, and then you’re off to work.

puppym takes strikingly after his father. they have the same bangs. the same compulsively squeezable quality. the same little :3 that can only allude to sinister plottings. you’d be loath to admit that you sort of comprehend seungmin’s poking predisposition.

one night, seungmin falls asleep before you even finish your nighttime routine, and you spot in his peaceful, upturned face an opportunity.

you lie belly-down on your side of the bed. your fingers splay into a peace-sign in the air. your smile stretches further into a cheshire grin the closer you bring your hand. you’re just about to reach the ends of his eyelashes when—

“I KNEW IT!”

you almost catapult into the ceiling. then you try to make a mad dash for the bathroom. but seungmin shoots a hand around your wrist like he’s actually peter parker and pins you down before you so much as take a step. your only remaining option is to sulk about your foiled plans. (and blush, because, well, you’re under him.)

“amateur,” he tsks. “you gotta test my breathing to make sure i’m asleep first. shit’s foolproof.”

you blink at him for a few seconds. his words finally click.

now you almost catapult him into the ceiling.

“HOW MANY TIMES?”

jeongin + eating food in one bite. so you might be an instigator.

“hwuck,” he grumbles around the whole ice cream cone in his mouth, face scrunched up in a brain-freeze-induced wince. “ayee ith waz a bah iyeah.” (translation: fuck, maybe this was a bad idea.)

“you got this. just take it slow,” you urge, except he’s stopped moving and speaking and closed his eyes as if he’s descending into a deep sleep. you’re actually concerned for about two seconds, and then his jaw begins to oscillate leisurely like an elderly cow in his favorite pasture. false alarm.

after some time, he swallows, beams. “so am i the fucking best or what.”

“yeah you are,” you echo, and he swings an arm over your shoulder, plants a chocolatey kiss on your temple. the two of you celebrate his daesangs with less enthusiasm.

“when are you doing that with me, by the way?”

“the one-bite thing?” he nods. “mmm, coaches don’t play.”

“mmm, this one will.”

“doubtful.”

fast forward a few weeks and you, jeongin, and his younger brother are sitting cross-legged on the porch in his backyard. three full-sized oranges rest in the center of your makeshift circle. damn is yoon hard to say no to. (runs in the family.)

“the rules!” he declares. “eat the orange whole! first to swallow it wins! you can’t spit it out!”

you wait. “is that it?”

“yes!”

why was the delivery so grand?

jeongin places a fond hand atop his brother’s head. “i’ve brought you a new loser, yoonie. get excited.”

you feign an indifferent scoff, but jeongin spots the fire that ignites behind your eyes like that of an anime protagonist, the resolute grip with which you palm your orange. he smirks. he’s never known you to take trash talk sitting down. or sitting cross-legged on his porch.

yoon counts you off. “ready…”

“good luck, coach,” jeongin sings.

“shut up, pipsqueak.”

“set…GO!”

in amusing unison, you and yoon try and fail to fasten your teeth around even half of the fruit. jeongin, meanwhile, fits the whole thing into his black hole of an oral cavity and launches into that dumb cow impression again.

desperate times call for desperate measures.

you rip the orange from your lips. “yoon! your brother’s ticklish, right?”

both yang siblings’ eyes widen—the younger’s in growing delight, the older’s in impending horror.

the latter reacts first. “ay, ay, ay, ah ahes eh ooles!” (translation: wait, wait, wait, that’s against the rules!)

but the former moves first, and you’re right behind him.

jeongin weakens when the younger boy assaults his sides, crumples when you target the back of his neck, the sounds leaving his mouth getting progressively louder and somehow even less intelligible.

he eventually has to spit out the orange to avoid death by pulp going down the wrong pipe and spins around in indignation, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. but his annoyance—

you’re back on the floor, gnawing hopelessly at the the orange again. “ih ih eawahin, ooh.” (translation: this is embarrassing, yoon.)

yoon replies, “huh?” (translation: huh?)

—dissipates, immediately.

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[gloomwitchwrites]

What If 141 and the best enemies to lovers line of all time...

"Who did this to you?"

Cue protective instincts and sexiness

hehe I am giggling!! Okay. Listen. I am fully aware that this is an enemies to lovers trope, but I don't think it applies to all of the 141 guys in that manner. Is there protectiveness? Yes. Is there a bit of spice? Yes, if you squint really hard. Is there also some sweetness thrown in? Absolutely there is. I had lots of fun with this one. I hope you enjoy it!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x 141!Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, brief blood and injury, hurt/comfort, brief suggestive themes, protectiveness, light angst

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Who did this?” Kyle bends forward at the waist, pressing a bag of frozen peas to your face. His concern is genuine. You can see that, but it’s strange. The two of you get on, but this is something else.

Kyle looks…angry like your injury personally offends him.

“It’s nothing,” you murmur. “Things happen during sparing. It’s fine.”

Kyle’s frown only deepens. He doesn’t believe you. And why should he? The person you were placed with took it too far. And it was all to impress him as if putting you in your place would somehow grant his favor.

It’s clearly done the opposite. He could care less about your sparring partner.

“It was your sparring partner, wasn’t it?”

You don’t answer. Just press the peas to your forehead a little harder.

This time, Kyle’s frown turns slightly upward. “Jokes on them, ya?”

You glance at him sideways. “How so?”

Kyle is grinning. It’s stunning. All pearly white teeth.

“Because I have my eye on someone else,” he says simply, as if that answers everything.

Though you cannot see yourself, you feel your face growing hot under Kyle’s gaze.

“You shouldn’t say thing like that,” you reply.

“Why? It’s true.”

John Price

“Who did this?”

“Why do you care so much, John?”

You attempt to pull your face out of his grasp but he holds firm.

“Of course I care,” he replies. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes, chests heaving. John is close. Too close. So close he could easily brush his lips against yours.

“I don’t know why,” you murmur.

“You do,” he affirms, authority in his tone.

Do you? Maybe. Perhaps. Deep within yourself you truly know the reason but can’t decide to speak it to the air. That would make this real. Whatever this is between the two of you.

‘Tell me who did this?”

“And do that what?”

“What the fuck I want to them, love.”

“It’s nothing. You shouldn’t worry about it,” you reply, again trying to escape from him.

But John isn’t having it. His other hand hooks around your upper arm, and then you’re pressed closed to him. He is so warm. All strength.

“Let go,” you say, but there is no volume behind it. It is weak. Not even a protest.

“Tell me,” he repeats, head dipping slightly.

Yes. Close enough to kiss.

“Tell me,” he says again, this time softer.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s blood beats heavy. It is tinged with metal. A lace of fire that cannot abate.

His boots slap against the linoleum floor. The overhead lights are bright. Clinical. He is a shadow here. A dark specter.

No one stops him. No one glances his way.

And why should they?

He is a man made fury.

There were hands put upon you. A training exercise taken too far. Simon was not there. And he doesn’t know why. Not exactly. But he’s furious. Protective. The fact that he could not stop this only infuriates him further.

To him, this is a failure.

He doesn’t come to a stop. Doesn’t knock. He barges right on in.

The nurse yelps. Spins suddenly. Face red.

You glance up, eyes wide at first but soothing slightly as they land on Simon. You’re bruised. Stitched up.

Fucking hell.

“Out,” barks Simon.

The nurse leaves but stares him down the entire time. He approaches the table, and lightly brushes the backs of his fingers against the wound on your forehead.

“Who did this?” he asks.

“Simon—”

“Which fucker?” he growls, bending forward slightly to look into your eyes.

“Should see the other guy,” you joke, smiling.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny shouldn’t feel this way. He shouldn’t. You’re not his. Even if he wishes it were so.

Every swing of his fist sends the building frustration outward, shooting into the massive boxing bag before him. It’s a poor substitute for the face he truly wants to smash. Several faces that is. Two specifically.

Who did this?

The words slipped from him unbidden. An instant anger. You had only scowled. Told him you could handle yourself. And you can. Johnny knows this. But he’s still fucking pissed about it. Still seething.

All the fucker got was a quick slap on the wrist. A promise to not do it again.

That sits sour in Johnny’s belly.

But you didn’t cave, no matter how much Johnny insisted that he’d take care of it on your behalf. So he is here, punching the shit out of something that isn’t flesh.

He wishes he could take away your pain. Take away the memory. Give it to himself to carry. You don’t turn on your own. There’s no honor in what happened.

But as much as he wants it to be true, Johnny can do nothing.

You are not his.

Even if he wants to be.

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