#Python Crash course

[python-foundation]

Python is a popular high-level, open source programming language with a wide range of applications in automation, big data, Data Science, Data Analytics development of games and web applications

[johnspythonnotes]

Crash course in Python

The environment we use for running Python scripts is Jupyter a web based application that comes packaged with Anaconda.

To run Jupyter, open terminal and enter: jupyter notebook

Jupyter will open in a browser showing the file directory. Open a folder and in there click New> Python 3 [notebook]. Rename the notebook.

The notebook opens with a cell that effectively has a command line where we can enter Python code. Once the code is entered you run it by either clicking Run or pressing Shift+Enter.

Test example: (1+1) Run Out: 2

Arithmetic Operators

As in the test example other arithmetic operators can be used; +, -, *, /. Modulus operator, %. Outputs the remainder of a division. E.g.: (6%2), Output: 0 (7%2), Output: 1

Exponents, **. Raises to the power. E.g.: 6**2, Output: 36

Intiger division, //. Divides but rounds down to the nearest integer. E.g.: 13//6, Output: 2

Variables

Variables are declared using the = symbol. E.g. age = 56, declares age as a variable and gives it the initial value of 56.

Unlike other languages such as BASIC, Python allows multiple variables of different types to be declared in a single statement. E.g.:

age, name, gender = 25, "Jane", "female" age, gender, name Output: (25, 'female', 'Jane')

Print command

Running the above operations shows the output in an Output cell. However these are internal to Python. To display the results of an operation a print operation is required. E.g. print (name, age) Jane 30

Calculations with Variables

age = age + 5 using above declared variable. Output: 25 Can be simplified to: age += 5 or for subtraction, age -= 5

Numeric Data Types

Int = Integers, whole numbers e.g. 1, 4, 10. float = floating point decimals e.g. 2.33333333333 To determine which type a variable is use type e.g.: print (type (z)) <class 'float'> To convert a floating point variable to an integer use: int(7/3) Out: 2 A division operation always returns a float but you can also force a variable to be a float using, float() e.g. float(2) Out: 2.0

String Data Types

Strings are series of characters and are defined using either single or double quotes. E.g. name = '"John"' print (name) print (type (name)) "John" <class 'str'>

Use singles quotes if you need to use double quotes inside the string. dialogue = 'John said, "Hello Dave", and Dave replied "Hi John, you\'re amazing"' print (dialogue) John said, "Hello Dave", and Dave replied "Hi John, you're amazing"

Adding Strings

segment_one = 'I\'m 25' segment_two = 'years old' full_sentence = segment_one + " " +segment_two long_sentence = ((full_sentence + ', ')*10) print (long_sentence) print (len (long_sentence)) Output: I'm 25 years old, I'm 25 years old, I'm 25 years old, I'm 25 years old, I'm 25 years old, I'm 25 years old, I'm 25 years old, I'm 25 years old, I'm 25 years old, I'm 25 years old, 180

Boolean

comparison_operator = not 1 < 2 and 2 < 3 print (comparison_operator) Output: False

Methods

movie_title = 'Withnail and I' print (movie_title.count("i")) Output: 2

Data Types

[melanirana]

@naffeclipse Nagas you say . . . have them three boys all made up of tropical species(or semi tropical) of snakes

Sun is a mix of Eyelash Viper and Black Racer. Sun is diurnal.

Moon is White Lipped Python and a Cape Cobar. He is also the longest out of the boys and Nocturnal.

And Eclipse is a Red African Bush Viper mixed with a Blood Python. He is active during the morning and the evening.

Dont get me started on snake biologie, I will ramble for hours and give you a crash course worth 3 years of biologie class.

[these-written-reveries]

Cuddles with Joker (Ft. Grumpy J)

‣ Pairing: Ledger!Joker/Jack Napier x GN!Reader

‣ Summary: Cuddles with J can be sweet...but quite dangerous too...

‣ Genre: fluff

‣ Warnings: grumpy/soft!J, super tiny suggestive hint somewhere, casual mention of murder, lightly proofread.

‣ Word Count: 947

‣A/N: Was going through my old notes and found this. While I haven't written for Jack in a long time, and probably won't write any new material anytime soon (unless inspiration miraculously hits again), I figure the Joker fandom is always in need of more content, right? So, here you go! (Maybe I'll post some of my other old J notes/drabbles sometime as well?)

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

◆ J would never say it, but he loves cuddling. HUGE cuddler, this one.

◆ He loves to be enveloped by you.

◆ Sometimes he'll come up to you, no words spoken, but distinct intention in his eyes as he crawls into bed, wraps his arms around you, and dives into your neck.

◆ You're not even surprised by this anymore. In fact, you look forward to it. These moments don't happen every day.

◆ When it does happen, you are quick to wrap your arms and legs around him, giving him what he wants.

◆ Each time, he lets out a sigh as his entire body relaxes.

◆ Doesn't matter the position, so long as all of your limbs are wrapped around his body.

◆ You're like his personal weighted blanket, pillow, and teddy bear all in one.

◇ (He's the real teddy bear in this relationship, but you better keep that to yourself.)

◆ You plan to wake up early in the morning to get things done? FORGET IT. Work? HA! AS IF…

◆ No, no, no, YOU are gonna stay right where J wants you to. Safe and sound in his arms.

◇ (More like chained and bound in his arms because there's no way in hell he's letting you go anywhere.)

◆ You try to move and suddenly he's growling a warning into your neck like a predator to its prey.

◇ "Nuh-uh...Don't even think about it."

◆ Sometimes no coherent words are spoken, and all that's heard is a low grumble of annoyance.

◆ Like a python, each time you move, even slightly, his arms grow tighter around you.

◆ Don't worry, though, he makes sure to leave just enough room for you to breathe (barely).

◆ It's a borderline hostage situation, but so long as you give the man what he wants, you'll be just fine.

◆ Now, it is no secret that J is NOT a morning person. At least, not in the usual way…

◆ He does his best work in the darkest hours of the night through early morning, scampering around the city of Gotham and leaving chaos in his wake.

◆ If he happens to be home, the only way he'll ever get to bed is if you physically drag him to it—usually at some ungodly hour of the morning. Otherwise, he'll go for days without sleep until his body completely crashes on its own.

◆ Even when he's asleep, he holds you tightly, almost as if he's afraid you'll go running off during his slumber. He can't have that…

◆ If you do manage to get him to bed, especially if you're lucky enough to get him to bed at somewhat of a reasonable time, you best leave him be.

◆ At this point, there is an unspoken rule between the two of you. You want him to sleep? You're staying with him the whole time. And if you wake him up too early? Be prepared to face the beast that will certainly arise.

◆ See, you may have had your full beauty sleep by the time the morning hours hit, but J certainly hasn't. Waking J up too early is a hornet's nest you don't wanna go poking at.

◆ That said…You secretly love grumpy J…

◆ Grumpy J has been known to kill anyone who disturbs his sleep on the spot. He's ruthless and unforgiving. Downright dangerous.

◆ But to you? To you, he's harmless. Cute, even.

◆ J would NEVER hurt you (minus a few exceptions, *wink, wink*).

◆ He may still be grumpy and growly and demanding. And he may certainly deny your lungs from being filled with the proper amount of oxygen. But he would never hurt you.

◆ In fact, you tell him his grip is too tight, he'll loosen up for you. Not too much, of course. And if you're REALLY lucky, he'll even press a little kiss to your skin, wherever his lips can reach—one of the smallest, yet loudest forms of fondness and care that Grumpy J is capable of showing.

◆ Don't get me started on how much J LOVES your affection during cuddle time. Even Grumpy J would never deny your love, though he may pout and grumble his way through it.

◆ One thing about J is HE'S A LIARRRR… An exceptionally honest man in most cases with you, except for when it comes to how much he adores your love for him—in all of its many forms.

◆ As much as he tries to hide this, his body always gives the truth away.

◆ You pet his hair, or—even better—run those gentle fingers through it? He's already melting into you, borderline purring like a cat.

◆ Kisses? Your lips? Anywhere? He's fucking done for. It may not appear as so on the outside, but so help him, he's spinning out of control on the inside. His heart is racing, his body is tingling, his head is spinning. Only you give him that kind of rush. And, oh, does he love you for that.

◆ Your hands caressing his back, fingertips gently tracing over the scars on his chest and arms, drawing new shapes on his skin. If you've reached this stage, he's already a big pile of mush. There's no hiding it now and he knows it. Your touch makes him go loopy in the best fucking way.

◆ The moments when you wrap yourself around him, encasing him with your entire body are quite literally the only moments he feels truly safe and content. Will he EVER say any of this to you? ABSOLUTELY NOT. But, he doesn't have to. You know. And he knows you know. And that's all that matters.

◆ So please, for his sake and yours, give the man his cuddles. And don't expect to be released for quite some time after…

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

L!Joker/Jack Napier Masterlist

Main Masterlist

‣Taglist: @jslittlebirdie @alittlesmartcookie

‣ If you’d like to join the taglist for Ledger!Joker/Jack, let me know by sending me an ask/message, or comment on this post!

💜 Comments and Reblogs mean the world to me! 💜

[mudkip-enthusiast18]

Favorite rosekiller headcanons??

aaaaaa I’m so happy about thissss tyyyyy :DD

here’s a bunch of miscellaneous ones I was able to think of over the course of today :3 (in no particular order and a mix of modern and canon compliant and muggle and every au LMAO)

I’ve talked about this before but barty has separation anxiety and can’t sleep without holding/being held by evan

Barty’s love language is physical touch and evan’s is quality time so they’re completely inseparable they’re always together

Barty is always touching evan in some way whether it be a hug, or holding his hand, or an arm around his shoulder or waist, or resting a hand on his arm or cuddling or wtv else

They know each other inside and out and so completely they can have full conversations just looking at each other not talking

they both hate crying in front of other people and do it extremely rarely but when it’s just the 2 of them they start sobbing at literally anything super easily

evan fell first (started crushing on barty all the way back in first year) and barty fell harder (realized all at once one day in sixth year after years of feelings subconsciously piling up and had a mega crash out to dorcas about it)

Their fav dates are when they just sit in bed and cuddle and watch movies and eat snacks and yap about wtv they’re watching cause they’re both massive nerds

evan loves pineapple pizza and barty despises it and refuses to try it on principle (italian) (he’ll never ever admit it but he tried it once and actually thinks it’s the best creation in all of ever) (evan knows this and teases him about it)

They’re disgustingly affectionate and everyone hates them for it /hj

Barty’s name in evan’s phone is “pain in the ass (love of my life 💛)” and evan’s name in barty’s phone is “my angel 🖤”

They have like ten billion matching tattoos/tattoos dedicated to each other <3333

barty calls evan evie, ev, rosie, angel, sweetheart, love, darling, my love, my rose, babe, he hardly ever calls evan by his actual name, only when the topic/situation is very very serious

evan uses bartys name a lot more (and by that I mean barty and not bartemius cause I hc that Barty never EVER uses his full name cause he hates it sm and even gets it legally changed as an adult), but he also call him bee, bat, baby, darling, mon amour

they have a cat w the most outrageously complicated name ever + like 4 reptiles (a ball python, 2 crested geckos and a chameleon methinks (?))

they have a bio daughter (transmasc evan truther here!!! <3) and she’s 2 years younger than luna (and best friends w her)

way way later down the line (when their daughter is 16) they adopt 2 other kids cause barty always had a dream of adopting and/or fostering to get kids out of shitty home life situations like his

(their kids are like fully formed ocs in my brain (except for names cause I suck at naming ocs,,,,,,,) but that’s the base of my happy au family hc for them)

they live in hogsmeade cause barty teaches history of magic at hogwarts (I still can’t decide what Evan does tho probably cause I project so stupidly heavily on to him and I can’t choose a career for myself but shhhhhhhhh)

extremely self-indulgent but evan’s a massive massive Pokémon fan and has been since he was like 9 and into all the aspects (cards, games, manga, anime, etc) whearas barty never was super interested but then evan started convincing him to open packs together and barty got sucked in through the powerful forces of gambling addiction

they’re both super into art (barty likes pottery and any kind of abstraction, evan likes pencil sketching and acrylic landscapes and they both like spraypainting)

I just scrolled back up after writing that last one and holy shit that’s a lot of yapping 💀😭

i like them a super normal amount I promise (could keep going for much much much longer)

I’m gonna end it here TY AGAIN FOR ASKING <3

[thealternateuniverse]

T-shirt

Got 7 (python era because they all look magical in their comeback) x reader

Warnings: Mentioned of drugs, alcohol, and cursing | Also, I apologize for dragging your faves here 😭, it's for the plot.

word count: 6824 (kinda long)

You had been hanging around the boys for as long as you could remember, and somewhere along the way, you developed a silly infatuation with Mark.

But everything changed the day you returned the shirts you had borrowed—those same oversized shirts you always woke up in after crashing at their place.

-------

You jolted awake, immediately aware that the room was far too bright—strangely so, given that your room barely got any sunlight. Blinking against the light, you scanned your surroundings and were met with the all-too-familiar gray interior of Mark’s room. Great. You’d blacked out drunk again and somehow ended up here.

Perfect. Just perfect.

At this point, Mark was probably sick of you, always throwing yourself at him when you were wasted.

You searched for your things and sighed in relief when you saw them neatly placed on Mark’s nightstand—especially your phone. At least that was one less thing to worry about.

Last night had been a blast. Jackson had gone all out hosting the weekly frat party, even inviting the alumni. And Bambam? He had one simple job, to make sure you made it back to your dorm. Clearly, he’d failed miserably.

You sighed realizing you are wearing....probably one of Mark's shirt. How you changed, you have no idea.

You tiptoed your way out of Mark’s room, careful not to make a sound as you headed toward the living room. But the moment you stepped in, you froze.

Yugyeom.

Standing there, shirtless, his sweatpants dangerously hanging low on his waist, his tattoos on full display like they had a personal greeting just for you.

“Uhh… how bad was I last night?” you asked, bracing yourself for the inevitable humiliation. Whatever the damage was, you’d make a mental note to suffer over it later.

Yugyeom simply rolled his eyes and took a slow sip from his Pocari Sweat bottle.

Well… damn. That was kind of hot.

“Dunno,” he finally said, voice casual. “Mark hyung and I had to drag you and Bambam here.”

Trust Yugyeom to be his usual sassy self. Judging by how disheveled he looked, he was probably just as hungover as you. Another reminder to curse Jackson later for whatever lethal concoction he had served last night.

“That bad, huh,” you muttered.

Yugyeom scoffed. “Yeah. And your confession to my brother sucked so bad I wanted to dig my own grave because of secondhand embarassment.” He shook his head, as if physically cringing at the memory.

Your stomach dropped. Confession? Oh, no.

Mark already knew about your infatuation with him, of course he did. But what he actually thought or felt about it? That part remained a mystery. He’d always treated you like a little sister, though. Doted on you, looked out for you… and that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Damn it. He definitely saw you as nothing more than a kid sister.

You groaned, rubbing your temples as if that could somehow erase the embarrassment.

“So what? At least he knows I like him,” you said, forcing confidence into your voice. Own it. No regrets.

Yugyeom let out a dry laugh, crossing his arms. “News flash—you're not his type.”

You wanted to cry.

Your head was pounding from the hangover, Yugyeom was ruthlessly crushing your delusions, and now you had yet another embarrassing confession to add to your growing list of regrets.

Fantastic. Just fantastic.

“I hate you!” you shouted, frustration bubbling over.

Yugyeom barely spared you a glance, taking another sip of his drink. “Yeah, whatever, brat.”

"Probably why the girls always liked your brother." You snapped, crossing your arms.

"Because you're straight up mean and an ass, Yugie. Even if you were the last man on Earth, I'd rather fuck a cow. "

You spun around with a dramatic stomp, refusing to let violence win today, even though you were dying to kick him.

"I'd rather too if you're the last woman on earth. You're a whack anyway." He shouted, you intentionally slammed the door when you got out of their apartment and started the walk of shame to your dorm.

--------

You sighed for the hundredth time, gripping the paper bag tightly. Your friends had been pestering you all day, asking what was inside and why you weren’t your usual, enthusiastic self yapping about Mark. You had retreated to your room and sulked after Yugyeom rubbed it in your face that you weren’t Mark’s type and called you a brat. Then you had all the shirts you borrowed from him washed, ready to return them to Mark and maybe, just maybe, start moving on from your feelings for him.

"Oppa," you called out to Mark. He was talking to JB but excused himself to turn toward you.

"Y/N... are you okay now? You blacked out last Saturday." he asked, his voice filled with concern. You didn’t answer, only handing him the paper bag. He hesitated for a moment before taking it from you.

"Sorry for the trouble, and I guess I’ve gotten used to borrowing your shirts every weekend." You said scratching the back of your head.

Mark took a peek of the shirts inside the paper bag, confusion still over his face.

"Uhh.. well I don't mind the trouble, as long as you are safe. But these shirts are big enough to be mine. These are Yugie's."

Your jaw dropped.

What the actual fuck!

"WHAT THE FUCK?!! OPPA ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"

Your scream caught Mark off guard. Other students turned to look at the two of you, curiosity in their eyes.

How the hell had you ended up wearing Yugyeom’s shirts? It had been his T-shirts all along?

Mark chuckled, clearly finding the situation amusing.

"Well, he usually takes care of us when we’re too drunk. Doesn’t drink much himself, except for last night. Jackson made sure we all had hangovers."

More reason to beat the crap out of Jackson. But that could wait... first, you needed to deal with this minor inconvenience. You had always assumed the shirts you’d changed into whenever you crash at their apartment after parties were Mark’s, but now it turned out they were Yugyeom’s.

Turns out, even the room was Yugyeom’s! You always seemed to wake up in their apartment, but you’d never noticed it was his. Whether it was from a hangover or hunger, you were usually too out of it to pay attention.

"Oppa, I think I’m going to have a headache," you said dramatically, massaging your temples. Concern flashed across Mark’s face, but a smirk crept in when he realized what was really going on.

"You can ask Yugyeom. My job’s just to make sure I drop you guys off, then I’m off to my gi—"

Mark’s eyes widened, as if he’d said something he shouldn’t have. You grinned, piecing it all together.

"Oppa, you dating someone, don't you?" Surprisingly, you didn’t feel disappointed that Mark might like someone else. Instead, you felt a strange excitement bubbling up.

Mark tried to hide the blush creeping up his neck by lowering his head and scratching the back of his head.

Too bad it wasn’t Mark who was taking care of you when you were drunk—no, that little shit Yugyeom had to do it instead.

"And I think you like Yugyeom, you're just infatuated with me."

Your smile faltered, then dropped.

Yugyeom? Hell no! He’s straight-up evil. It’s like he exists just to make your life miserable.

You remembered how he’d always tease you back in elementary school, exposing your crushes to everyone. Not a single attractive trait about him.

"You're kidding, right?" You shot Mark a glare. He raised both his hands in surrender.

"A'ight. I'm just teasing you."

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. Great! Things turned out differently this time.

--------

"Man, Y/N is out again," Jackson said, shaking his head as he handed Mark another shot of Hennessy.

"Where is she?" Mark asked, scanning the room.

Yugyeom clenched his jaw, running a hand through his hair to mask his irritation. Why did they keep inviting her to these parties, knowing damn well she couldn’t handle her liquor especially with the way Jackson and Johnny threw them?

"Yugie, you're not drinking tonight?" Youngjae offered him a glass, but he shook his head.

God, he wanted to get drunk. He’d had a few shots already, but he couldn’t let himself go past his limit.

"I'm good. I have class tomorrow." Lie.

He didn’t have any classes. His hyungs looked at him like he’d just grown a second head.

"Since when do you care about attending class?" JayB gave him a knowing look.

"Yugie, you've been sneaking out of the parties lately. What are you up to?"

Mark snorted, and Yugyeom shot his brother a glare.

"Nothing, hyung. Just not feeling it lately," Yugyeom mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Jackson raised a brow, not convinced. "Right. And it just happens to be every time Y/N is around?"

Yugyeom scoffed, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him. Her parents will kill him and Mark if they don't take care of her. "Coincidence."

"Yeah, sure." Mark chuckled, taking another shot. "So, where is she this time? Passed out in the bathroom? Dancing on the table?"

Yugyeom rolled his eyes, ignoring the way his chest tightened. He hated how predictable this was. Every damn party, it was the same thing. Y/N drinking way past her limit, getting into trouble, and him like a fool watching from the shadows, pretending he didn’t care.

Johnny, who had just walked up, smirked. "Last I saw, she was out on the balcony with some guy. Looked pretty cozy."

Yugyeom's grip on his glass tightened. "Who?"

Johnny shrugged. "Some dude from the basketball team. Seemed harmless, but you know Y/N—"

Before he could finish, Yugyeom was already pushing past him, making his way toward the balcony. He wasn’t sure why, wasn’t sure what he was going to do when he got there.

All he knew was that he had to get her out of here.

"Your brother is whipped." He managed to hear JayB before swimming in to the crowd

Yugyeom had been roaming around the house, searching for you, but to no avail. Every room, every hallway, even the bathrooms—nothing. It was as if you'd vanished.

Meanwhile, Y/N had already made your way back to where everyone was gathered.

"Have you seen Y/N yet?" Mark asked, noticing the sulk on Yugyeom's face.

Before anyone could answer, a familiar laugh rang through the air.

"There she is!"

All heads turned just in time to see you stumbling toward them, practically draped over Bambam like a human koala. Arms wrapped tightly around his neck, you clung to him as if he were your lifeline, making it nearly impossible for him to walk straight. The two of you wobbled forward, an amusing sight of chaos.

Jinyoung's brows furrowed as he took in the scene. "What the hell—where the hell have you been?" His voice carried a mix of concern and exasperation.

Bambam groaned, struggling to pry your arms off. "Hyung! Y/N is a handful," he whined before gesturing helplessly. "The gummies must have kicked in!"

"Where did you even get gummies?" Yugyeom asked, irritation lacing his tone.

"Jungkook," Bambam answered shortly before leaning back against the couch.

At that moment, her bloodshot eyes lit up as she spotted Mark. "Oh, Mark Oppa!" she slurred, stumbling toward him. Mark was quick to catch her before she could fall.

He steadied her and turned to everyone. "Let her ride out her high first, she's both drunk and high. How many did she take?" His eyes scanned her for any signs of injury.

Bambam shrugged. "I don’t know. She was already at it when I found her."

Mark sighed and carefully sat her down beside Yugyeom. Luckily, she was too high to cause any trouble just sitting there, completely spaced out.

Yugyeom's night wasn’t going as planned. Jackson was on a mission to make sure everyone was too drunk to go home or to attend class the next day. JayB sat quietly, zoning out. Jinyoung had already passed out. Youngjae had snuck off to leave before he got too drunk. Jackson was everywhere, shoving drinks down everyone’s throats. He came back dragging a drunk Minghao and Jaehyun behind him. Mark just watched in silence, but Yugyeom noticed he was barely holding it together.

Yugyeom could feel his eyelids getting heavy, his exhaustion and alcohol setting in. Meanwhile, Y/N, freshly off her high, challenged Jackson, claiming she could still handle more shots. But she kept knocking things over, clearly out of it. Yugyeom had to sit her down, restraining her from grabbing more drinks. In the end, he took her shots instead.

"Hyung, we need to get out of here." Yugyeom nudged Mark while holding a passed-out Y/N in his arms.

Mark nodded, draping Bambam’s arms around his neck so they could sneak out quietly. They didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to Jackson. ---

"Yugie, it's already past Y/N’s curfew. She’s out cold there’s no way she can sneak back to her dorm," Mark said, glancing at the passed-out Y/N on Yugyeom’s lap.

Yugyeom’s head was pounding, the alcohol hitting him harder now. They had just dropped Bambam off.

"You can let her sleep in your room. You sleep in mine. Do anything stupid, you're dead," Mark warned, shooting him a sharp glare through the rearview mirror. It's always the same warning when Y/N had to crash in their flat during the weekend. Her parents will kill both of them if something happens to her. "Why, where are you going?" Yugyeom asked with curiosity, a grin spreading across his lips.

His brother shot him another glare, so Yugyeom quickly shut up. "You should be worried about me, Hyung," he muttered. Knowing Y/N, taking care of her when she’s drunk is like looking after a toddler, such a handful. Good thing she is out tonight.

Yugyeom shook his head, remembering he had to carry her all the way here. Damn, he was tipsy, and he prayed he’d make it to his room without falling over.

He groaned as he finally laid you down on his bed, collapsing onto the floor beside it. He was too dizzy to move. "Fuck." Y/N cursed

Yugyeom got up to check on you, surprised to find you awake. His eyes widened as he realized you were stripping your clothes off.

"Shit... what the hell are you doing?"

He immediately sprang up from the floor to stop you, but you were too stubborn.

Yugyeom cursed silently, his frustration growing. She'll never fucking touch another alcohol Just why am I the one who had to deal with this? Fucking gummies Fuck Jackson, Fuck Jungkook

Out of all the times, Nayeon Noona had to not be available now. She was the one who usually took care of this stuff. His duty was to drag or carry Y/N home, not deal with... well, this.

"Huh? Who TF—oh, Yugie," Y/N said, flashing him a sheepish smile.

"Y/N..." Yugyeom groaned in frustration. He walked over to the bed, gently trying to lay her back down. He wanted to sleep too, he’d had enough drinks to know a hangover was coming tomorrow.

But Y/N had other plans.

"It’s hot in here, Yugie. Where’s Mark Oppa? He’ll change my clothes." Y/N started scanning the room for Mark. When she didn’t see him, she pouted.

Yugyeom felt his ears burn. Since when did Mark change her clothes? It had always been Nayeon!

"Okay, I’ll get you a shirt, and you can change yourself, brat. No Mark tonight," he said, letting out an exasperated sigh.

He walked over to his cabinet to grab a shirt. Luckily, he wasn’t running out of shirts just yet, most of them were still with Y/N, and she hadn’t bothered to return any of them.

Yugyeom turned around, holding out the shirt for her—only to freeze in place, cursing under his breath. "What the—?"

She was already naked, save for her underwear. His eyes widened in shock as Mark’s earlier warning echoed in his head.

"Goddamn it." Yugyeom groaned, quickly looking away as he walked toward her.

Yugyeom tossed the shirt, and it landed right on Y/N’s face. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left the room, exhaling a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. Leaning back against his door, he muttered under his breath—

"Just what the fuck."

He and Mark had known Y/N since childhood. Back then, she was shy and timid, always clinging to them for protection. If they weren’t around, she’d inevitably get picked on by bullies.

But middle school changed everything. The once quiet and reserved Y/N was long gone. After being spoiled by Jackson, JB, and Jinyoung, she had turned into a complete brat—throwing fits whenever she didn’t get her way.

And her growing infatuation with Mark? It irritated the hell out of Yugyeom. Mark was too nice to reject her outright, always treating her like a younger sister. But Y/N? She saw things differently.

Yugyeom woke up with a pounding headache, the effects of last night’s drinking hitting him full force. He was still wearing the same shirt from the night before, his hair sticking out in every direction. Too exhausted to change, he had simply collapsed onto his brother’s bed.

Yugyeom froze. She was awake.

Slowly, he turned around to face her. Thankfully, she was wearing a shirt—his shirt. It was oversized on her, hanging loosely off her frame. He gulped. Damn, when did she start looking hot in my clothes? She always wore his shirts, so why did it feel different now?

"Dunno..." he answered casually, shaking off the thought. "Mark hyung and I had to drag you and Bambam here."

Y/N’s face twisted in disgust. "That bad, huh?"

Yugyeom scoffed. "Yeah. And your confession to my brother sucked so bad, I wanted to dig my own grave from secondhand embarrassment." He shook his head, physically cringing at the memory. Having to endure her slurred, love-struck confessions on the way to Mark’s car was pure torture.

Y/N, however, seemed unfazed. "So what? At least he knows I like him," she said with confidence.

Yugyeom let out a dry laugh, crossing his arms. "News flash—you're not his type."

Y/N’s face turned red, and she shot him a glare. He knew he had struck a nerve. It was always the same—the fuming expression whenever things didn’t go her way.

"I hate you!" she screamed, her frustration boiling over.

Yugyeom wanted to tease her more, but he knew better than to entertain her tantrums. Instead, he barely spared her a glance, taking another sip of his drink. "Yeah, whatever, brat."

Y/N huffed and crossed her arms. "Probably why girls always liked your brother." She gave him a smug look before adding, "Because you're straight-up mean and an ass, Yugy. Even if you were the last man on Earth, I'd rather fuck a cow."

Yugyeom’s jaw clenched. He didn’t give a damn if girls preferred his brother over him. It wasn’t like he was interested in them anyway.

Y/N spun around with a dramatic stomp, storming out of the room. Yugyeom sighed, rubbing his temple. Between his pounding headache and Y/N’s tantrums, this morning was already a disaster.

"I'd rather too if you were the last woman on Earth. You’re wack anyway," he called after her, but the only response he got was the sound of the door slamming shut.

"Women!" he muttered in frustration, running a hand through his messy hair.

Not long after, the door creaked open again, but this time, it was Mark. His older brother looked just as disheveled, still wearing the same clothes from last night, holding paper bags in his hands.

Yugyeom blinked. "What the hell happened to you?" --------------------

Y/N’s laugh rang across the cafeteria, drawing attention to her and Mark. Whatever they were talking about must have been hilarious, judging by the way she leaned into him, grinning from ear to ear.

Jinyoung and Youngjae exchanged a glance.

"Y/N seems extra clingy today," Jackson commented, shaking his head before taking another sip of his smoothie.

Yugyeom furrowed his brows, watching the two of them curiously. Mark and Y/N had been inseparable since this morning, and for some reason, it was bothering him more than it should.

"Anyway, Jooheon’s throwing a party tonight for his birthday. Are you guys coming?"

God. Yugyeom had just recovered from the worst hangover last week, and now there was another party.

"I’m in if you guys are going," Youngjae said.

Jinyoung sighed. "I’ll go, but I’m not staying long. I don’t want another hangover. Last week was the worst—fuck you, Jackson." He shot the older boy a glare, but Jackson only laughed in response.

"I’m coming! Jooheon invited me earlier," a familiar voice chimed in.

They all turned to see Y/N, now settling into the seat beside, unfortunately—Yugyeom.

"Yeah, and we'll have to drag your ass back home when you're drunk," Yugyeom said dryly, rolling his eyes at Y/N.

But she didn’t even acknowledge him. Instead, she turned to Mark and Jay B with a sweet smile.

"Oppa, you're going to drive me home, right?"

Yugyeom sat up straighter. Did she just ignore me?

Mark sighed. "Just don’t go over your limit, Y/N. Please?"

"Of course!" Y/N beamed.

Yugyeom scoffed under his breath. "Just what the hell."

"Yeah, so you don’t inconvenience us into driving you home," he snapped.

Y/N shot him a glare. "What’s up with you?"

"Nothing!" Yugyeom barked back, quickly gathering his things and walking out of the cafeteria.

For some reason, he was pissed today. Since when did Y/N start following his brother around like a lost puppy? He understood the obsession, but did she really think sticking to Mark all day would get her anywhere? ---------

"Slow down, Yugie. It’s not even midnight yet." Jungkook took the bottle from Yugyeom, eyeing him warily. His friend had been drinking like a madman all night.

Yugyeom didn’t understand what was wrong with him either. He’d been cranky all day.

"I’m good," he muttered, trying to sound convincing. But Jungkook clearly wasn’t buying it.

His gaze swept across the room until it landed on Y/N, who was laughing—no, flirting—with Wonwoo. His grip on the shot glass tightened.

Mingyu and Jungkook followed his line of sight before exchanging a knowing look.

"Tsk." Yugyeom clicked his tongue and downed another shot, drinking like it was his last night on earth, completely disregarding the inevitable hangover.

"You’re drinking like you’re heartbroken, Yugie," Bambam teased, completely oblivious to the daggers Yugyeom was mentally throwing at Wonwoo and Y/N.

"And I think I just figured out who broke your little heart." Mingyu grinned, glancing between Y/N and Yugyeom.

---------

You promised Mark and JB that you wouldn’t drink too much tonight. So, you made it your mission to interact and avoid alcohol as much as possible.

You arrived a little late but made sure to greet Jooheon and hand him your gift when you walked in.

"Y/N, my girl!" Jooheon embraced you warmly.

"Happy birthday, Heony," you said, returning the hug.

"Enjoy the night, girl. You look beautiful," Jooheon winked, making you blush at the compliment.

"Thanks! And happy birthday again."

Jooheon placed both hands on your shoulders and led you towards where the boys were hanging out.

"You might want to keep up. Yugyeom’s been drinking like there’s no tomorrow, and it’s not even midnight yet."

But you had sworn to keep your drinking in check tonight.

"Perfect. Thanks, Heon." You gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

Instead of diving into more alcohol, you grabbed a margarita. The plan was to avoid overindulging and stay busy by chatting with everyone. You decided to make a detour and joined Wonwoo, Hoshi, and Minghao.

"Mind if I join?" you announced, flashing a smile.

"Y/N, thank god. These two are boring me," Hoshi grinned, clearly relieved to have some fresh company. "What's up?" You asked, sitting down beside Wonwoo.

“Not much lately. Same old boring school stuff,” Minghao said, pulling out his phone to check something.

“Boo hoo. School is boring,” you teased, casually sipping your margarita.

Wonwoo glanced around, his gaze landing where JayB, Jackson, Jinyoung, and Mark usually were. “You’re at most of these parties. Surprised the boys aren’t hovering?”

You followed his gaze but didn’t spot them. They were either scattered or just keeping a low profile, not that they ever hovered, but they always made sure they could see you.

You chuckled. “Nah, I can go anywhere because of them.”

"And Yugyeom looks at me like he’s going to kill me later."

Your smile faltered. You’d been trying to push Yugyeom out of your mind these past few days. The shirts you took from him were still in your possession, Mark refused to take them when you tried returning them, they weren’t his so he basically told you to return it yourself to Yugyeom.

You and Yugyeom fought like cats and dogs daily, as if his sole purpose in life was to annoy you and ruin your day. Yet, somehow, he still looked after you. It didn’t make sense. He always seemed the least concerned, never missing a chance to call out every stupid thing you did yet there he was, always watching over you.

"What did I do?" Wonwoo asked, sounding offended. "Say he likes Y/N, and instead of joining him, he joins us? What will you feel if you are Yugyeom?"

What the hell? Likes you? More like he’s dying to kill you. First Mark, now Minghao. The idea was absurd. You couldn’t help but cackle.

"You guys are overanalyzing. What he feels toward me is pure hatred, mutual, by the way," you said, shaking your head.

"Wanna bet, Noona?"

Everyone turned at the sound of the new voice. Mingi.

Since when did he get here?

"Mingi, sneaking out again, huh?"

Mingi scratched the back of his head as he plopped down beside you. Being a freshman and the rowdiest one at that, it wasn’t exactly surprising.

"Don't tell anyone," he said with a grin. "Jooheon hyung invited me. His party’s way too lit to miss."

Mingi is the definition of chaotic energy wrapped in a freshman package. Along with his partners-in-crime, San and Beomgyu, he’s always at the center of the mess, loud, unpredictable, and effortlessly funny. Despite his wild antics, there’s an endearing charm to him, making it impossible to stay mad at him for too long.

To you, he’s like an annoying but lovable little brother, constantly trailing behind with his silly little crush. He doesn’t take it too seriously, but that doesn’t stop him from sticking around whenever he gets the chance. Whether it’s teasing, playfully pestering, or just showing up uninvited, Mingi has made it his personal mission to be wherever you are much to their amusement (and occasional frustration).

You glanced over at Yugyeom. He wasn’t looking in your direction anymore, but you caught the moment Jungkook took the bottle from his hand. Was he drunk already? Yugyeom rarely got drunk, his alcohol tolerance was impressively high.

"So, Noona? What do you think? Looks like Yugyeom hyung really likes you," Mingi said, leaning forward with his best attempt at puppy eyes.

You looked around at the others, all watching you expectantly. The attention made your cheeks warm, and you couldn’t help but blush.

"N-no, obviously we’d kill each other before that ever happened," you stammered, trying to hide your embarrassment.

But what Mingi did next caught you completely off guard.

“Oi! Mingi, you little shit! Why'd you kiss her?!”

Your eyes widened as you turned to see Minghao smacking Mingi, who seemed utterly unbothered. If anything, Mingi looked thrilled grinning ear to ear and bouncing in his seat like he’d just won the lottery. It was just a peck on your cheek but still, it caught you off guard. Your head immediately turned towards where Yugyeom is, but he's already gone. "You're so dead meat, Mingi." ----------

Your goal to stay sober? Success.

You’d had a few drinks here and there, but still being clear-headed at 2 AM was a win. Most of the night had been spent mingling, caught up in conversations rather than alcohol.

Still, you couldn’t shake the habit of glancing around, searching for any sign of Yugyeom. You hadn’t seen him since you were with Wonwoo and the others earlier, and for some reason, that nagging thought lingered.

“Good job!” you muttered to yourself, patting your own back while smiling like an idiot in front of the mirror. You headed to the restroom to touch up a bit.

"I’d tap Yugyeom. I wanna ride on his lap."

"Yeah, like, he's tall and everything."

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but these girls were loud enough to make it impossible not to hear.

Ride him, huh?

You pulled out your phone to message the group chat, hoping to get an update on Yugyeom, but the responses were slow—probably because the guys were all already too drunk. But why were you searching for Yugyeom? You weren’t sure, you just knew that you had to talk to him.

“He's pretty out of it. Some girl tried to make out with him earlier, but he accidentally knocked her over.”

For some reason, the thought made your blood boil. "Good luck riding him, then."

The girls turned towards you with a look of surprises on their face. But you only rolled her eyes and walked out of the restroom.

Now you really had to look for Yugyeom. ---------

It didn’t take long to find him mainly because they’d become the damn show in Jooheon’s pool. The chaos had taken over, and now Jooheon’s pool was flooded with drunk and half-naked students.

Yugyeom, Jungkook, Mingyu, and Jaehyun stood there, drenched. The only thing they were still wearing? Their pants. Obviously they're drunk.

“Kyum.” You called, sighing. The nickname felt strange on your tongue after not using it for so long.

Yugyeom turned towards you, his eyes half-lidded and his cheeks flushed, clearly feeling the effects of too much alcohol.

“What?” he asked lazily, draping his shirt over his shoulders as he shifted his weight.

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the fact that his half-naked form and his hair that's sticking everywhere was distracting you more than it should.

“Not having a good time? You don’t seem drunk,” he remarked, voice casual maybe a little too casual.

"I swore to Mark not to get wasted tonight."

He walked towards you, and what he did next completely caught you off guard. Yugyeom leaned forward, his face burying itself against your neck. Water still dripped from his hair, cascading down to your shoulders.

"Mark... blah blah blah. For once, can you stop talking about him?"

You weren’t sure how to react. What happened to him? Why was he suddenly acting like this?

"And don't even mention Mingi. I made sure to drown him earlier," he added, his breath warm against your neck.

"What? Are you even serious right now?"

Yugyeom let out a dry laugh. "Yeah? How dare he kiss you."

What the hell? So he did see that earlier?

"We seriously need to talk. Get a shirt or something, it’s cold," you said firmly, but Yugyeom didn’t budge.

"I’ll try… I’m too drunk, I guess?" He blinked, looking around, squinting as if trying to see past his dizziness.

"Okay, at least let’s get you inside and find you a shirt." You grabbed his arm, ready to guide him in. But the moment he took a step, Yugyeom stumbled.

"Oops. My bad." He giggled unapologetically.

"Y/N! And why are you still dry and sober?"

You barely had time to react before Mingyu clearly just as drunk grinned at you. Bambam and Jungkook trailed behind him, all of them looking suspiciously like they were up to no good.

You narrowed your eyes. "I’ll kidnap your friend for a while. You can have him back after we talk."

The three exchanged knowing looks. Definitely plotting something.

"Not gonna happen," Jungkook said, shaking his head before turning to Mingyu.

Sensing potential danger from these idiots, you instinctively stepped back. "I swear to God, I’m wearing heels, Jeon Jungkook. If you take another step, I will kill you with them."

But they didn’t look the least bit fazed.

"No killjoys tonight, Y/N."

Before you could protest, an arm wrapped around your waist. You barely had time to scream before gravity betrayed you—

SPLASH!

You hit the water. "What the fuck!!!! Just what the fuck!!!"

You screamed the moment you emerged from the water, sputtering as laughter erupted from the sidelines.

Jungkook, Bambam, and Mingyu were doubled over, finding the whole scene way too entertaining.

Before you could process your next move, an arm wrapped around your waist again. Instinctively, you swung, nearly throwing a punch—only to realize it was Yugyeom.

You immediately clung to him, your heart racing. Great. You had landed in the deeper part of the pool, where your feet couldn’t even touch the bottom.

"Just what the hell, Kyum?!" you snapped, exasperated.

He didn’t even look the least bit guilty.

"Oops?" he said, grinning.

"You dragged me in with you! I don’t have spare clothes, and I’m still wearing my heels!"

Yugyeom just chuckled, holding you effortlessly in the water. "Should’ve taken them off sooner, brat."

You were this close to dunking him under.

You didn’t realize how close you were until your breath hitched.

Yugyeom’s arm was still around your waist, holding you steady in the water. His bare skin was warm against your soaked clothes, the alcohol in his system making his grip a little looser, a little more relaxed.

Your mesh top clung to you like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. The way Yugyeom’s gaze flickered downward before snapping back to your eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

Half-lidded from the alcohol, his dark eyes held something unreadable, something that made your stomach flip.

For once, he wasn’t teasing you. He wasn’t rolling his eyes or throwing snarky remarks.

He was just looking.

Your throat felt dry despite being surrounded by water.

"It's cold, we should get up," you said, quickly averting your gaze.

But Yugyeom’s grip on you tightened.

"I thought we were gonna talk. What is it that you wanted to tell me?"

Your mind went blank.

What was it? Just moments ago, you had been so sure, so determined to get him alone and say something. But now, with the weight of his stare and the warmth of his body against yours, your words were stuck somewhere in your throat.

Yugyeom studied you closely, his voice quieter this time.

"And you haven’t called me Kyum in a long time…" He tilted his head slightly, eyes searching yours. "What is it now?"

You swallowed.

You could tell him. Right now.

Or you could do what you’ve always done, brush it off, pretend nothing’s changed.

Your fingers twitched against his shoulder. "It’s nothing," you mumbled.

Yugyeom let out a small scoff, but he didn’t let go. "Liar."

"Oi! The two of you, lovey-dovey there, huh? Done with your lover's quarrel?"

Jungkook’s voice rang out, followed by loud laughter from Mingyu and Bambam. You felt your face heat up not from the alcohol or the water, but from the way Yugyeom still hadn’t let go.

He didn’t even react to Jungkook’s teasing.

You expected him to roll his eyes, make some sarcastic remark, or at the very least push you away in annoyance like he always did. But he didn’t.

Instead, he stayed still, watching you.

For some reason, it wasn’t cold anymore.

"We should get out," you tried again, but your voice came out weaker this time.

Yugyeom hummed, tilting his head slightly. "Then go."

You frowned. "You're the one holding me."

A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips. "Am I?"

Your stomach flipped.

What the hell was up with him tonight?

"You're drunk. It's cold." You tried to reason, shivering slightly as the cool night air hit your wet skin.

Yugyeom only tightened his grip, his gaze unwavering. "Not until you tell me what you wanted to talk about."

You huffed, pressing your palms against his chest, trying to push him away, not too hard, though. "Kyum, not now."

His eyes flickered at the nickname again, his jaw clenching. "Then when?"

You fell silent, biting your lip.

Jungkook’s voice interrupted the tension. "Alright, alright, lovebirds. Enough of the eye-fucking. Get out before you both catch a cold."

Your breath hitched again.

"You tell me now, or I'm gonna fucking kiss you and cause a damn scene," Yugyeom said, his voice low and unwavering.

You turned sharply to look at him, your heart hammering against your ribs. His dark, half-lidded eyes held yours, challenging, no, daring you to say something. The water dripped from his hair, down his sharp jawline, and onto his bare shoulders.

"You're drunk," you repeated, but it came out weaker this time.

"And you're avoiding," he shot back.

This wasn’t the Yugyeom who always rolled his eyes at you, who constantly teased you like you were nothing but an annoying little sister. No, this Yugyeom was looking at you like he actually gave a damn.

You swallowed hard. "Kyum… stop it."

His lips twitched at the nickname, but he didn’t back down. Instead, he took a slow step toward you, water cascading off his body.

"Last chance," he warned, tilting his head slightly. "Tell me, or I’ll make sure everyone here knows exactly what’s been going on between us."

Your stomach flipped. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Yugyeom smirked, and for the first time tonight, it wasn’t one of amusement—it was something else. Something dangerous.

"Wouldn’t you like to know?"

Yugyeom let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his wet hair. He looked at you, his jaw clenching like he was trying to hold something back.

"You really don’t get it, do you?" he muttered, shaking his head.

Your frustration boiled over. "No, I fucking don’t! One second, you act like I’m the most annoying person on earth, and the next, you're pissed when I talk to someone else! You say you don’t care, but you always have something to say about what I do, who I’m with—"

"Because it drives me fucking insane, Y/N!" Yugyeom snapped, holing you closer. "Watching you throw yourself at my brother like he’s ever gonna see you the way you want him to. Watching you act like a spoiled brat because you know they’ll always give you what you want. Watching you flirt with guys who don’t deserve your attention."

You blinked, your breath caught in your throat. "What...?"

His chest rose and fell heavily, his fists clenched at his sides. Then, as if all the tension left him at once, he exhaled and chuckled bitterly.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

Silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. The sounds of the party in the background felt miles away.

"Do you hate me, Yugyeom?" Your voice was quieter now, almost unsure.

His eyes snapped back to yours, something unreadable flickering in them. Then he took one last step forward, so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him despite the cold water.

"If I hated you," he murmured, voice dangerously low, "I wouldn't be losing my mind over you every damn day."

"So, the shirts..." You trailed off, everything finally clicking into place and believing Mark. The t-shirt, the room you’d assumed was Mark’s...

"Yes! Fuck me!" Yugyeom cut in, his voice filled with frustration. "It’s my room you were sleeping in when you were drunk, and it’s my fucking shirt you’re wearing. You look so damn hot in it, but it drives me crazy every time you think about it being Ma—"

He didn’t finish his sentence. You cut him off with a kiss, sealing his lips against yours. The sound of cursing from the boys and the cheers of those around you filled the air.

Yugyeom froze for a second before his hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you in like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. The cheers and whistles from your friends faded into the background, drowned out by the rapid beating of your heart.

When you finally pulled away, slightly breathless, Yugyeom’s dazed expression made you chuckle. His hands still held you tightly, as if he was afraid you’d disappear.

"You—" he started, his voice hoarse, but you cut him off with a smirk.

"Thought you were gonna kiss me and cause a scene?" You teased, raising a brow.

He blinked, then let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "You really are a brat."

"You like it," you shot back playfully.

Yugyeom rolled his eyes, but the way his fingers traced circles on your waist told you everything you needed to know. Maybe he didn't hate you after all. Maybe it was something else entirely.

"Oi! Disgusting! Get out of the water!"

"Yugyeom! What the hell are you two doing in there?!"

"Were they kissing?—Hey, Yugyeom! I swear to God, if you get out of that water..."

"Nice one, Y/N noona! Don’t drown me again, Yugyeom hyung!"

You can hear Mingyu, JayB, Jackson, and even Mingi shouting from the sidelines, but Yugyeom doesn’t care. He simply grabs the back of your neck and kisses you again.

" This Motherfucker" - Mark

Yugyeom didn’t even bother looking back at the chaotic mess of friends yelling from the sidelines. He just smirked against your lips, his grip firm as he pulled you even closer. The warmth of his body against the cold water sent shivers down your spine, though you weren’t sure if it was from the temperature or the way he kissed you like he had something to prove.

"You’re unbelievable," you muttered when you finally pulled away, your fingers curling into the wet strands of his hair.

"Yeah?" He tilted his head, his thumb grazing your jawline. "And yet, you kissed me first."

You rolled your eyes, pushing against his chest. "Shut up, let's just get out of here before they actually drown us."

"Agreed," Yugyeom chuckled, finally letting you go, but not before throwing a glare toward the group of idiots watching like it was some drama premiere.

As you both waded out of the pool, soaking wet and dripping onto the pavement, the jeering only got worse.

"Yugyeom! I trusted you!" Mingyu feigned betrayal, clutching his chest.

"Yugyeom, you little shit, I knew it!" Jackson cackled.

"Just get a damn room!" JayB groaned, tossing a towel in your direction.

Yugyeom caught it effortlessly and draped it over your shoulders, his lips still curved into a smug grin. He leaned in, whispering against your ear, "I meant what I said. Let’s go somewhere else."

Your breath hitched, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected you. Instead, you scoffed, giving him a playful shove.

"Get me food first, and maybe I’ll think about it."

Yugyeom laughed, shaking his head. "Brat."

And just like that, whatever tension had been lingering between you both had snapped into something else entirely.

[evanesdust]

"Did you seriously just quote Monty Python while you're lying here bleeding?"

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Alan Deaton Additional Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Mates, Hurt/Comfort, Pack Alpha Derek Hale, Injured Stiles Stilinski, Monster of the Week, Blood and Injury, POV Stiles Stilinski, Canon-Typical Violence, Fandom Trumps Hate 2024

Summary:

[excerpt] The sudden shift sent a prickle of unease running down Stiles's spine as he followed Derek's gaze, scanning the parking lot. The peaceful atmosphere had shifted. They were no longer alone. "What do you—" See, he wanted to ask, but Derek cut him off with a warning growl, pushing Stiles back. Stiles rolled his eyes. While he loved Derek's protectiveness, he also hated when Derek got all overprotective. It reminded him of the pool incident when they faced the Kanima, and Derek shoved him back, trying to keep him out of harm's way. But he could handle himself, dammit! He'd more than proved that over the years; however, before he could argue, a figure emerged from the shadows, stalking toward them, revealing an eerie mirror image of Derek. What the actual fuck? Stiles's mind reeled in disbelief at the sight of the doppelganger, struggling to comprehend what was happening. "Uh…please tell me you have a secret twin I didn't know about."

The sky was dark when they left the diner, the moon blocked by heavy clouds. A chill hung in the air, and Stiles smiled when a hand pressed on the small of his back, guiding him toward the parking lot. Even though they'd been together for ten years now, it was something he always did—like Derek needed that connection, no matter how small. The warmth of Derek's palm sent a tingle through Stiles's body, goosebumps rising on his skin.

"Did you want to head straight home?" Derek asked, his hand leaving Stiles's back to intertwine their fingers.

Stiles gave Derek's hand a gentle squeeze, savoring the familiar touch. "Yeah. I'm ready to crash after today."

It'd been a long day at the Sheriff's Department. A typical day included patrolling and responding to calls, but today had been busier than usual with four bank robberies. Four! What made it worse was that Stiles knew something supernatural was at play. Each bank claimed the person robbing them was an employee, but every suspect had an airtight alibi, including one who had been in the hospital for a planned surgery.

Stiles sighed, ready to go home and curl up on the couch with Derek. Unwind. He'd get a good night's sleep and start fresh tomorrow, researching to try and figure out what was happening. Derek would help, of course. He always did, no matter how strange or difficult the supernatural problem they faced. It was the life they chose when they decided to stay in Beacon Hills, with a Nemeton drawing in whatever monster of the week that caused mayhem and chaos in their little town.

But Stiles wouldn't trade it for anything. This was his home, and Derek (and the pack) was his family. Together, they would face whatever came their way, just as they always had.

With a content sigh, he leaned into Derek's side. The soft glow of the streetlamps cast a warm light over the path, and the gentle rustling of leaves was soothing.

So, naturally, that was when everything went to shit.

Derek tensed beside him, squeezing his hand as he pulled Stiles to a stop. His nostrils flared, as if he scented something in the air, and his eyes burned alpha red.

The sudden shift sent a prickle of unease running down Stiles's spine as he followed Derek's gaze, scanning the parking lot. The peaceful atmosphere had shifted. They were no longer alone.

"What do you—"

See, he wanted to ask, but Derek cut him off with a warning growl, pushing Stiles back.

Stiles rolled his eyes. While he loved Derek's protectiveness, he also hated when Derek got all overprotective. It reminded him of the pool incident when they faced the Kanima, and Derek shoved him back, trying to keep him out of harm's way. But he could handle himself, dammit! He'd more than proved that over the years; however, before he could argue, a figure emerged from the shadows, stalking toward them, revealing an eerie mirror image of Derek.

What the actual fuck? Stiles's mind reeled in disbelief at the sight of the doppelganger, struggling to comprehend what was happening.

"Uh…please tell me you have a secret twin I didn't know about." Honestly, it wouldn't surprise Stiles if that were the case. Hell, he didn't know about Cora until she'd shown up in Beacon Hills, so Stiles wouldn't put it past Derek to have a secret twin. But the feral growl rumbling from Derek's chest told him this was no long-lost sibling. This was a threat, and Derek was ready to protect him at all costs.

The figure stalked closer, its movements predatory and unnatural. Stiles's heart raced as he recognized the same intense alpha glow in the doppelganger's eyes. He could only hope that was where their similarities ended—that whatever this shapeshifting creature was, it didn't somehow possess the same strength, speed, and abilities as Derek.

Stiles swallowed hard, his mind racing for a way to help Derek. But before he could voice his plan, the doppelganger lunged forward, claws outstretched. Derek roared, shifting into his beta form as he met the creature's attack head-on—fangs bared, claws extended, eyes blazing with rage. The sound of their clashing filled the empty parking lot, and Stiles was determined to find a way to help Derek before one of them was seriously injured.

He sprinted toward Derek's Camaro, hand outstretched to open the trunk, where his trusty bat was stashed. But before he could reach it, a sharp pain shot through his side as the doppelganger's claws raked across his flesh. Stiles cried out, his urgency mounting as he stumbled and clutched the wound.

"Fuck!" Blood streamed through Stiles's fingers as he fell to his knees.

Derek's fury was palpable as he shifted into his full alpha form, fur rippling across his body, his clothes falling to tatters on the ground. He lunged at the doppelganger, now a hulking black wolf, and sank his teeth into its shoulder. It was like a scene straight out of a horror movie as the creature howled in pain, thrashing and clawing at Derek, but his grip was unyielding.

Of course, it was. The minute it had attacked Stiles, there was no way Derek would hold back—unleashing the full force of his alpha power. The creature didn't stand a chance.

Stiles watched in awe as Derek tore into the doppelganger until the creature's struggles grew weakerweakerweaker. Its bones cracked and popped, the sound sharp, until it finally went limp in Derek's hands. Its body morphed, claws falling away, hair receding from its face as it shifted back to what Stiles could only assume was its original form—a pale, sinewy alien-like creature with limbs just a bit too long, spindly fingers, sunken eyes, and sharp fangs.

Derek released it, chest heaving as he shifted back to his human form and rushed to Stiles, kneeling beside him. He gently examined Stiles's wound, his brow furrowed in worry, despite his own face and torso being streaked with blood. "Shit, this looks bad."

He pressed his hands against the deep gash on Stiles's side, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Tis but a scratch," Stiles said, the grimace on his face betraying the bravado in his voice. No one would blame him, considering the sharp and throbbing pain in his side. It distracted him enough that he couldn't even admire all the tan skin and muscles on display as he checked Derek over for injuries. But, naturally, all his wounds were already healing thanks to his supernatural abilities.

"Did you seriously just quote Monty Python while you're lying here bleeding?" Derek's eyes narrowed, his expression both concerned and exasperated, clearly not amused by Stiles's attempt at humor. "We need to get you to Deaton, now."

He scooped Stiles into his arms as if he weighed nothing—something that both irked and turned Stiles on. It reminded Stiles of the FBI raid from so long ago when he'd been injured and Derek had carried him to safety. It had been the catalyst for their relationship.

Usually, Stiles would put up a mild protest, which was more fond than anything, but not this time. Not when the movement jostled his side, making him wince. The adrenaline from the encounter was wearing off, leaving him drained. Or maybe that was the blood loss.

Either way, he leaned into Derek's embrace.

"Home. I wanna go home," Stiles murmured. All he wanted was their bed. To be surrounded by the comforts of home.

"But—" Derek started, but Stiles cut him off.

"Please, Derek. I just want to go home." Stiles's voice was soft, laced with exhaustion. He knew Deaton needed to check his wound, but the idea of their bed and the safety of their home was all he could focus on.

Derek hesitated for a moment, then sighed. As much as Stiles wanted to make a quip about having Derek wrapped around his little finger, it probably wasn't the best time, so he stayed silent.

"Fine," Derek said, shifting Stiles in his arms and hurrying toward the Camaro, "but I'm calling Deaton to meet us there."

Stiles sighed in relief, resting his head against Derek's chest until they reached the car. Derek gently placed him in the passenger seat, ensuring he was secure before rushing around the hood to the driver's side. The engine roared to life as Derek called Deaton, and he sped toward the preserve—toward home—his grip on the steering wheel tight with worry.

"I'm alright, big guy," Stiles promised. This wasn't the first time he'd been injured, and considering their lives, it definitely wouldn't be the last. But he knew that didn't make it any easier, not for Derek.

When they pulled into the driveway, Deaton wasn't there yet. Derek carefully helped Stiles out of the car and carried him to the house. Once inside, he left the front door unlocked and took Stiles to the living room, lying him down on the couch without a care in the world for the mess they would leave behind.

Derek carefully ripped Stiles' shirt off with his claws. His brows were pulled down in a frown as he examined Stiles's wound, his touch feather-light. Stiles winced slightly but knew Derek was doing his best to be gentle.

"We need to call my dad and the pack." That…thing…was still out there, and they couldn't just leave it for some unsuspecting person to find, dead or not. The people in town weren't stupid; they knew Beacon Hills was special, that there were things that went bump in the night. But as the saying went, ignorance was bliss.

"I'll let them know," Derek said, phone already in his hand.

His voice was a low murmur, and his eyes never left Stiles's face as he spoke with the Sheriff, filling him in on what had happened and assuring him that Stiles was okay.

Stiles reached up, taking Derek's hand and gently squeezing it in reassurance. He hated seeing him so distressed. His life had already been hard enough—a veritable shit show of trauma and loss. Stiles knew Derek blamed himself for every injury Stiles or the pack sustained, even when it wasn't his fault. He wished he could take away Derek's guilt—ease the burden on his mate's shoulders.

"Yeah, here he is." Derek handed Stiles the phone and mouthed, 'I'll be right back,' before heading into the kitchen.

Stiles managed to suppress a groan as he put the phone on speaker, already anticipating his father's worried lecture.

"I'm okay," he said before his father could launch into a tirade.

A familiar sigh came through the line, one that spoke of years of worry and frustration, and Stiles could picture his dad pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "You're always 'okay,' kid. But Derek said you were injured. Bleeding. That doesn't sound so 'okay.'"

"He's exaggerating, Dad. You know how Derek is. I get a papercut and he freaks out," Stiles said, trying to downplay the severity of his injury. "It's just a scratch, really. I'm fine. Derek's just being overprotective, as usual."

Stiles winced as he shifted on the couch, the pain in his side flaring up. "Okay, maybe it's a little more than a scratch, but Deaton'll get me all patched up and I'll be good as new."

"Stop moving," Derek chided, stepping out of the kitchen with a washcloth and a large bowl filled with water. He kneeled beside the couch and began gently cleaning Stiles's wound. It was a gnarly-looking gash, but Derek's touch was gentle and soothing. Black tendrils snaked up Derek's arm as he took Stiles's pain, leaving Stiles a little woozy.

He leaned into Derek's touch, relishing the comfort it provided. His father's worried voice continued on the line, but Stiles barely heard it, focused instead on Derek's gentle ministrations.

"Hey, Sheriff?" Derek interrupted. "Deaton just pulled up. I'll call you later, okay?"

Derek ended the call and turned his attention back to Stiles.

"Wait," Stiles's voice came out sluggish, a side effect of Derek's werewolf mojo. "First, you should put some pants on." Because Derek was still naked, and Stiles could be a possessive bastard. He didn't want anyone but him to see his mate's bare skin. "Also, I forgot to tell Dad that the thing, whatever it was—" he took a deep breath, then let it out in a gust "—was the thing. The…thing…the banks."

Because that made total sense. God, Derek taking his pain was better than any painkiller Stiles had ever taken—a magic morphine that fogged his brain.

"You think the shapeshifter was behind the bank robberies," Derek stated. Either because he knew Stiles well enough to follow his line of thinking or because Derek had a bad habit of avoiding inflection when asking questions.

"Yeah, that." Stiles made an appreciative sound as Derek walked over to the laundry basket sitting in the corner and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top.

"I'll let your dad know. Right now, I just want to make sure you're taken care of." Derek kissed his forehead as Deaton walked in the front door.

"How's my favorite patient?" Deaton asked, setting his bag on the coffee table.

"Don't lie. Your favorite patients are puppies and kittens," Stiles replied, wincing slightly as Deaton examined his wound. "Derek's taking good care of me."

Deaton chuckled, his skilled fingers probing the injury. "I bet he is, Mr. Stilinski. This looks like it needs a few stitches, but it's not too deep. You're a lucky one."

Derek hovered anxiously, watching Deaton's every move. "What do you know about other kinds of shapeshifters?"

"Was that what did this?" Deaton asked, a brow raised.

Stiles nodded. Despite his best efforts, a sharp hiss of air escaped his lips when Deaton began stitching the wound. "Yeah, but not like one I've ever seen or heard of before."

Stiles hissed again, then sighed as Derek's hand found his, the pain easing. "It looked alien, but it could shift into people. It looked like Derek. And I'm pretty sure it's been impersonating people all over town."

Deaton nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked. "I've heard of such creatures, though they are quite rare. And dangerous, considering they can mimic any person they encounter. As you discovered."

"Will he turn?" Derek asked, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip.

That wasn't something Stiles had even considered, but now all he could think about were the different ways someone could be turned into a werewolf. One of which was being scratched. Not that Stiles had anything against being a werewolf, but he'd prefer it to be on his own terms.

Thankfully, Deaton shook his head. "No. For one, it's not deep enough. But even if it were, while the creature could transform and take a werewolf's beta form with claws and fangs, it's not an actual werewolf. The injury it inflicted will heal normally and without any supernatural effects."

Derek visibly relaxed at Deaton's reassurance.

Deaton finished stitching up the wound and applied a bandage. "There, all done. No showers or baths for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. I'd suggest a careful sponge bath if needed. Just take it easy for the next few days and let that heal."

"I'll make sure he rests," Derek said, his hand gently squeezing Stiles's. He turned to Deaton, his expression serious. "The Sheriff will be bringing the body to your clinic so you can examine it."

"Excellent. I'll take a look as soon as it arrives," Deaton replied, gathering his supplies. Once he was packed, he headed for the door. "Call me if you have any other concerns."

With a final nod, he left the house, leaving Derek and Stiles alone once more.

Derek turned his attention back to Stiles, his gaze filled with concern.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Stiles's forehead.

Stiles leaned into the touch, closing his eyes as he savored the comfort it provided. "Better. I told you I was okay, though."

"Yeah, well, your version of okay is different than mine."

"Your version would have me wrapped in bubble wrap and kept in a padded room," Stiles teased, cracking one eye open to look at Derek. "But I appreciate your concern. I know you worry, especially after everything that's happened. Anyway, are you okay?"

Tonight wasn't the first time Derek had killed someone, but Stiles knew that taking a life, even in self-defense, weighed heavily on Derek.

"I'm alright. And I'm not that bad." Derek trailed his fingertips across Stiles's brow, down his nose, and over his cupid's bow. The delicate touch sent tingles down Stiles's spine. "I love you, Stiles. You mean everything to me, and I just want to keep you safe."

And what could Stiles say to that except, "I love you, too."

Derek cupped his face, thumbs brushing his cheeks tenderly, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Stiles's lips, conveying the depth of his affection. "Don't fall asleep yet. Let's get you changed and into bed first."

"Think we can get the blood out?" Stiles asked, glancing at the couch as Derek helped him stand.

They probably could, but Stiles didn't really want to think about all that right now. He'd rather curl up beside Derek and sleep.

"I'll take care of it," Derek assured him, sweeping Stiles into his arms.

Now, Derek's strong arms cradled him as he carried Stiles to their bedroom and then into the ensuite bathroom, where he carefully undressed Stiles and cleaned him of any traces of blood with a washcloth. All Stiles had to do was stand there as Derek helped him into a soft T-shirt and sweatpants before guiding him to their bed.

"I'm going to clean myself up real quick," Derek whispered against his temple, taking a moment to inhale deeply, like he was breathing in Stiles's scent—something he always did. "Be right back."

Stiles sighed contentedly as Derek pulled the covers over him.

Derek was always so attentive and caring, definitely a change from the gruff and hardened exterior he used to project. A man who had once been a loner, now surrounded by a pack and a mate who loved him unconditionally.

Stiles snuggled deeper into the covers, the sheets soft and cool because Derek bought ridiculously expensive one hundred percent mulberry silk sheets with a momme weight of nineteen. He still wasn't sure what that meant.

His eyes drifted shut. "M'kay. I'll stay right here."

"You do that," Derek said with a chuckle, the sound fading as he walked into their ensuite bathroom. In the distance, the shower sputtered to life, and the soothing sound lulled Stiles into a light doze. But he woke when Derek returned, sliding into bed behind him and carefully pulling Stiles into his arms.

Stiles melted against Derek's warm, solid frame, feeling safe and content. He made a pleased sound and snuggled closer when Derek gently kissed the back of his head before breathing him in. "I love you."

The pain from his injury faded as Derek's warmth enveloped him, and Stiles smiled.

"And I love you," he breathed, letting the steady rhythm of Derek's heartbeat lull him into a peaceful sleep.

[witchofthesouls]

Hey! I saw an earlier post you had about the boys in the grocery store and it got me wondering about how they would react to hunting. I’m a hunter, have been all my life. I hunt deer, boars, ducks, coyotes, turkeys, quails, pheasants, wild Burmese pythons, and I fish locally too (strictly a vermin exterminator and food hunter, I find sports hunting to be distasteful and I strictly use a bow and arrow, no traps or guns as I take issues with those too). I can picture the absolute horror of the TFP or Lost Light bots seeing their/a human skinning and processing an animal that they just hunted for food, they see the modern convinces that are grocery stores so it’s easy to forget where human food actually comes from 😂

Weirdly enough, IDW/MTMTE does have Cybertronian edibles like cesium salami and rust sticks.

But then again, there's a big percentage of the crew members who were produced by the war, so there's a great chance that they didn't get a crash course on things that were deemed "unnecessary," like Cybertronian cuisine and fauna to forage and hunt.

TFP Cybertronians, on the other hand, have Questions.

Get ready to pull up diagrams, manuals, videos, and live demonstrations via YouTube or your own hands because they got the curiosity of two-year-old with the capacity to keep you in their palm for no escape.

Ratchet absolutely hates it. It's too messy and squishy and completely unalike the organized and relatively clean method of converting crystals to fuel. Horrified over the mysteries of hotdogs and how everything can and will kill humans without specific preparations to negate the toxins. Ratchet is boggled over spice challenges and how the hell humanity hadn't died in its infancy over culinary explorations. Someone told him to look up Hákarl.

He takes great displeasure when the kids sass him over Cybertronians eating their own blood. Different. Absolutely different. He clucks over the base kitchen and is not above making things disappear. He argues with June and Agent Fowler over the groceries and fast food bags. Ratchet's crunchy.

Bulkhead actually enjoys fishing. He's more catch and release rather than for keeping and gutting. He likes soaking up the heat of the sun, the sound of running water, birdsong, and insects buzzing, the gear setup and picking out the right lure and bait. It's a different kind of downtime, but it's nice. All he's missing is engex, but he's able to throw a line farther out than anyone else and has the capability to detect motion far greater than an average human. He still wants an engex cube.

Arcee has mixed feelings. She enjoys hunting. Patience, tracking, stealth, and the sense of accomplishment with a clean catch. She likes less the process of handling carcasses, but really hates waste anything that could have been useful. Meat, leather, tools, jewelry, and raw ingredients that could be sold or traded. Arcee just doesn't like sharing something with Airachnid's methods.

Bumblebee's a scout. People expected him to like foraging or the wilds. He prefers domesticated stock. In particular, beekeeping. To him, it represents a more equivalent partnership: he provides accessible resources and safe quarters and the bees yield honey, comb, and wax in return. If the hive don't like him or the area, then they can leave elsewhere.

Optimus is deeply fascinated by how Earth's biodiversity is so immense and how ecosystems are so diverse and complex, yet so fragile. He quietly wishes for Alpha Trion's presence because Optimus is seeing familiar similarities of Cybertronian long gone biomes: wetlands, woodlands, and reefs. The Sea of Rust once was a massive ocean of mineral-laden Energon. It has long since disappeared by the consensus of heavy, unregulated industrialization, but if Earth has the water cycle, ocean currents and belts, and complex system of thermoregulation that replenishes itself, then Cybertron had to have something similar at one point, no?

[guywrestlingaddiction]

That Wrestling Moment: Kasee owns you (undergroundwrestler.com)

One of the things I love about gay wrestling is that mixing two guys together always leads to an unpredictable combination.  A friendly match may begin in one direction but watch out, because you just might get owned.  

Kasee POV (undergroundwrestler.com)

SPOILER ALERT: I highly recommend viewing this match in its entirety before reading this post.

The Backstory

We open on our very own professor Kasee teaching us the ropes.  Better still, we have Kasee all to ourselves - this must be our lucky day...

First the rules... wait he deliberately didn't mention any rules, that's odd.

You: I really want to be dominating guy.

Kasee: You want to be a dominate wrestler? You want to learn to be dominate? Then you have to take control.

Stripping down you're already intimidated as it's clear Kasee is twice the man you are with those muscles.  But damn, you gotta get your head in the game cause you've wanted to be a wrestler all your life.

Latching up, it's clear that Kasee can outmuscle you.

You: Aw shit man, you're strong!

A simple lock up and suddenly you're violently pushed back.  That should've been your first clue that this wasn't what you signed up for...

The Action All that nervousness you put aside to come here today has reemerged.  Kasee is not the trainer you thought he'd be, in fact there really hasn't been anything instructive about any of this.

This fight has taken you into so many directions.  He seemed friendly enough but your instincts are telling you something is off.  You could put up some challenge if he'd only let you up, show him you're not some simp.  

Your head is telling you to stay back but your body is drawn to that powerful body.  This lesson is gonna hurt, but you need this...

Suddenly a bearhug you didn't see coming.  It all happened so quick, you had no time to react and now the only thing in front of you is that powerful chest crushing you.  

In fact, your only view is that epic chest squeezing the life out of you like python crushing its prey.  Wait were you setup to be Kasee's prey all along? 

This is so humiliating but oh wait, he's planning something...

Fuck - you figure it out too late and before you know it all those devastating muscles come crashing down on you.  All you're left with is a view of that body crushing you.  Was he always this heavy?  Did he somehow get bigger over the course of this match? 

The Moment  You suspect that Kasee is enjoying this a little too much.  You've seen his other matches where guys take him down and now he's grinning until his face hurts cause he gets to beat on you.  

And now you've met today's moment.  The point where Kasee owns you.  I'm sure you heard of his reputation as a jobber and figured you'd sail into victory but make no mistake; Kasee might lose to other wrestlers but you are going to be his bitch today.

Talking trash and telling you how worthless you are.  To prove his point, the man makes you crawl up the very powerful body that dominated you. 

Then a choke.  As if this guy needed to underline his point, he chokes you out and then things slow down and everything goes dim...

You wake up covered in sweat and see that muscle stud is posing and distracted.  You use this chance to run like a coward out of here.  You make it to the door and smell the glorious air of freedom only to be carried back to the ring on his shoulders.

Kasee: Worship that bicep ...

It wasn't smart to run away, but what choice did you have?  Kasee is pissed now and needs to show you exactly what little coward bitches deserve.  They deserve to be put down and humiliated.  Kasee declares you will be put out by worshiping him.  

The next thing you know you have his pit shoved in your face and you fight not get too turned on.  The last thing you need is to let him know you secretly love this beat down.  

You can't believe this is happening.  Kasee is going to force you to worship him while he suffocates you with that pit. 

Kasee: That wasn't smart trying to get away and now you're going to be put out...

Laying on your back a few other wrestlers find you unconscious.  They ask what happened but you don't have the words to describe what you're feeling.  It's all a mixture of soreness, exhaustion, but above all humiliation - so why can't you stop grinning to yourself?  Oh maybe it's because you finally admitted to yourself that you never wanted to be a wrestler after all and that all you really wanted was to be owned by one.  

[thebadphilosopher]

If you're wondering how the little weewoo gay firefighter show is going or confused about how we got to Bee-nado, here is a reminder about every premiere plot:

Season 1: A python, some other cases - nothing serious

Season 2: Massive earthquake - it's LA

Season 3: A tsunami - disaster movie moment

Season 4: Dam break + mud slide - also kinda LA but on steroids

Season 5: City-wide blackout from ransomware - damn terrorism

Season 6: A blimp crash and stadium rescue - not main season focus though

Season 7: An exploding cruise ship - queen Angela Bassett flexing her acting skills

Season 8: Bee-nado - bee-cause of course

Season 9: Racetrack? On a plane? In space? Who knows.

[python-foundation]

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[experimentkc]

Happy (belated) anniversary to Lilo & Stitch: The Series and Stitch!

Yes, I know that the twentieth anniversary of the premiere of Lilo & Stitch: The Series (on ABC Kids) was on September 20th. I was sick back then, though. So, I'm celebrating it today on the anniversary of its Disney Channel premiere instead.

Lilo & Stitch: The Series continued our beloved titular human-alien duo's adventures on their home island of Kaua'i after the first film and the show's pilot film Stitch! The Movie. Throughout the course of 65 episodes over two seasons that aired within almost three years (September 2003 to June/July 2006), they went around the island (and occasionally elsewhere) to find, capture, and rehabilitate Jumba's other genetic experiments by giving them a place where they truly belonged. They also dealt with the ex-Captain Gantu, now working for Jumba's ex-partner Dr. Jacques von Hämsterviel, as they hunted down the experiments.

While Lilo & Stitch creator Chris Sanders, who reprised his voice role as Stitch in the show (as did almost all of the original film's voice cast reprising their roles), never really intended for his film to go anywhere beyond the one film he made, Lilo & Stitch: The Series has left a lasting impact with Lilo & Stitch fans everywhere that can still be seen to this day. Dr. Hämsterviel and his Python-esque Frenchman-sounding voice became recognizable while giving the franchise a proper villain. Gantu was fleshed out more as a character instead of just being a brute enforcer for someone else, especially through his interactions with the memorably lazy, wisecracking, sandwich-loving, reluctant sidekick Experiment 625, who we know today as Reuben. The second season did crossovers with other Disney properties before it was cool, with the casts of Kim Possible, American Dragon: Jake Long, The Proud Family, and Recess each joining our duo's 'ohana for an episode. Then there are the genetic experiments themselves, with their fun designs and wide and sometimes wacky abilities making a lasting impression on those who enjoyed seeing Stitch and his mischief while expanding on the (admittedly crazy and inconsistent) lore of Lilo & Stitch's universe. One of them, X-619/Splodyhead, even made a cameo in a Walt Disney Animation Studios film in Big Hero 6, while another, X-221/Sparky, who debuted in Stitch! The Movie, became a boss in Kingdom Hearts: Birth by Sleep. And we can't talk about experiments without mentioning X-624/Angel, Stitch's love interest and mate who became so popular in her own right that she now gets a regular influx of merchandise and has made several video game appearances, including most recently in Disney Speedstorm.

Not to be forgotten, the Stitch! anime series also recently celebrated its fifteenth anniversary of its premiere back on October 8th. The first spin-off made after the original Western continuity, Stitch! had the little blue alien crash-land on a small fictional island in the Ryukyu Islands called Izayoi, where he meets and befriends the tomboyish Yuna. During the first two seasons, which were animated by Madhouse, Yuna and Stitch go on their own adventures around the island, befriending yokai who live in the island's Chitama Forest, and dealing with Hämsterviel, Gantu, and Reuben again. Some of the experiments even return in this show, especially Angel, who became an intergalactic pop star in the (in-universe) years since we first met her on Kaua'i. The main plot of these two seasons is about Stitch getting enough good deeds to have the magical Chitama Spiritual Stone grant him a wish, which was apparently to become "ruler of the universe". However, by the end, he decides that living with Yuna is better. After Madhouse's 56 episodes (which includes two post-season specials), Shin-Ei Animation took over for the third season, retooling it by having Yuna and Stitch move to a fictional Okinawan city called New Town, going on wackier adventures there with her new classmates, while Hämsterviel now goes after Stitch on behalf of a big-eared humanoid alien woman named Delia to gain a power cell within him, using several experiments that he "transmutated" to do his dirty work. The 30-episode (again, including another post-season special) season also had Stitch reuniting with Lilo, now all grown up with a daughter of her own, for one episode. The main series of three seasons ran from 2008 to 2011; they were followed by two more specials, Stitch and the Planet of Sand in 2012 and Stitch! Perfect Memory (or Stitch! A Perfect Memory) in 2015.

Infamously, the English dub of the anime established itself as a post-Lilo continuation from the get-go with probably the worst-chosen opening lines to any sequel show ever, when Jumba claimed (later proven false by Lilo's aforementioned third-season appearance) that Stitch left her because Lilo became more interested in a boyfriend over him; such lines, which weren't in the Japanese original, caused many fans to swear off the anime series as "not 'ohana". However, as the years passed since Stitch! ended, the anime faded to relative obscurity, which in turn caused much of the hate it received to die down. In more recent years, it's now garnered some appreciation in its own right after years of ridicule and vitriol, with those such as Saberspark enjoying the show for what it is and making videos about their more positive thoughts on it.

My friend @angoraram made the drawing at the top of this post for this special occasion featuring Stitch, Reuben, Angel, and several other experiments well-known and obscure from throughout Lilo & Stitch: The Series (plus Dorkifier from Stitch!). She already shared this picture on her DeviantArt galley last month, but she also allowed me to share some special 5K desktop wallpaper edits I made of her drawing available in 16:9 and 16:10 aspect ratio versions. You can download these over here.

[startledplatypus]

Happy April Fool's!

"Soho Does Easter." A modern reinterpretation of Easter regalia and poignant commentary regarding the range of emotional responses to this seminal Christian holiday. Possible breaking of the 4th wall due regarding the unrendered response of the assumed congregation.

Influences include Berke Breathed, Monty Python and Hugh Hefner, as well as cottagecore and bespoke BDSM fashion.

(In other words, our ineffables decided to crash a local Anglican church gathering, but Aziraphale got the totally wrong outfits at the costume shop. Our angel sports tartan hose (of course) and retro pumps; Crowley demanded PVC thigh-high boots and opera gloves or he was going back to bed.

(While our angel waxes ecstatic about whatever he's waxing about (which clearly didn't involve his pits), aggrieved priest John Cleese looks on while Crowley plays Candy Crush.

(As for the "seminal" part, refer to the two bunnies copulating in the lower left.)

[tourtoise234]

Title: Basil, Balconies, and a New Rome Revelation

Clarisse La Rue was no stranger to battle. She’d fought in wars, led armies, and stared death in the face more times than she could count. But nothing in her life as a warrior prepared her for living with Blake Rivers. Blake, her brilliant and annoyingly perfect wife, was everything Clarisse didn’t think she needed—soft-spoken but stubborn, creative but grounded, and utterly unshakable in her love for all things green and growing.

Their apartment near New Rome University had become a jungle, thanks to Blake’s Demeter heritage. The balcony was overrun with herbs, flowering vines, and even a small pomegranate tree. Inside wasn’t much better; terracotta pots covered every windowsill and shelf. Clarisse grumbled about tripping over planters, but secretly, she liked the way the apartment smelled—like mint and lavender, with a hint of citrus.

What Clarisse didn’t like was Basil.

The python, named ironically by Blake, had been a gift from a fellow Demeter kid. It was supposed to keep pests away from the plants, but instead, it had decided Blake was its personal heat lamp. It wasn’t uncommon for Clarisse to wake up in the middle of the night to find the massive snake curled around her wife, its tongue flicking lazily as if mocking her.

“Basil, get off the bed,” Clarisse growled one night, trying to shove the snake off Blake’s torso.

“He’s fine, Clarisse,” Blake mumbled, half-asleep.

“No, he’s not fine. He’s in the way!”

Basil flicked his tongue at her, unmoving. Clarisse grumbled under her breath about needing a monster-slaying license for their bedroom.

Despite the snake, life was good. Clarisse loved her job as a hands-on combat instructor at New Rome University. She’d always been better at action than words, and teaching kids how to fight—really fight—felt natural. Most of her students were eager to learn, though some had ulterior motives.

“Professor La Rue, do you have plans this weekend?” one bold student asked after class one day.

Clarisse rolled her eyes. “Yeah, my plan is to grade your terrible essays on shield formations. Get moving.”

She didn’t wear her wedding ring to work—too much risk of it getting damaged during sparring—but she’d never thought much about it. Her students saw her as a gruff, unattainable figure, and that was fine with her.

But everything changed one evening when a first-year named Mateo showed up at her office, looking sheepish.

“My roommate kicked me out,” he admitted, shuffling his feet. “I don’t have anywhere to go tonight.”

Clarisse sighed. She wasn’t good at this emotional stuff, but she couldn’t leave the kid stranded.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing her bag. “You can crash at my place for dinner until we figure something out.”

Blake greeted them at the door, her hair tied back in a messy bun, hands dusted with flour. She’d been baking—again.

“Hey, love,” she said, leaning up to kiss Clarisse on the cheek. “Who’s this?”

“This is Mateo,” Clarisse said gruffly. “He’s having some roommate drama. We’re feeding him.”

Mateo froze, eyes wide. “Wait… you’re married?”

Clarisse groaned. “Yeah. So what?”

“You’re married to her?” Mateo pointed at Blake, who was setting the table.

Blake laughed. “Surprised?”

“Uh… yeah? You don’t wear a ring or talk about her or—”

“Look, kid,” Clarisse cut him off. “I don’t owe anyone my life story. Now sit down before the food gets cold.”

Mateo ate dinner with them, but the news spread faster than wildfire. By the next day, the entire university knew that Clarisse La Rue, the legendary daughter of Ares, was married—and married to a daughter of Demeter, no less.

“Professor La Rue, is it true your wife grows your lunches?” one student asked during a sparring session.

“Professor, can we meet your wife?” another chimed in.

Clarisse barked at them to get back to work, but the questions didn’t stop. Blake, of course, thought it was hilarious.

“You’re a campus legend now,” she teased, watering the herbs on their balcony.

Clarisse scowled, leaning against the doorway. “I liked it better when they thought I was single and scary.”

Blake smiled, setting down her watering can. “Well, I like it better now. Maybe they’ll stop hitting on you.”

“Doubt it,” Clarisse muttered, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.

As much as she hated the attention, she couldn’t deny one thing: life with Blake—even with all the plants and that damn snake—was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

[tentakrule]

i used the file log analysis skills I learned in the course I'm taking to finally fix the crashing issue I had with my old PC. it kept giving me a blue screen occasionally with 'kernal data inpage error', and regardless of the googlefu i employed, nothing helped.

but I just did a module on file hashing and how to find corrupted files and go through error logs with python script and I was able to locate and remove the files causing the issue. no crashes since!

[considermycat]

Currently #reading Python Crash Course by Eric Matthes