#here in DR it feels like it can be him it was the same vibes i got from the mentions of him in UT for the first time

[manofthepipis]

Don’t know if you plan this, but will spamton eventually tell the other 3 Ads about how his glitches feel? Like the “burning/hot plate sensation” I don’t think Survey ever told them, and doesn’t want to say things on spams behalf, but I am curious on how their reactions will be in that area!

Also! Do you plan on introducing Kris back into the story later on? As spams whole “being pardoned by them” thing? If not, that’s totally fine as well!

Another thing! Do you view Gaster as Mike? Or a another party? I know that Gaster and Spam have a connection, no doubt about that, but I just wanted to hear your thoughts!

rlly good question! honestly i have an answer for that first bit in the next chapter when some of the adds talk about, well, the complicated things that they've seen from spamton. The terms and conditions here. unfortunately for surv, they got some of the most heart wrenching info, but i'd feel they're rlly talkative and communicative in nature, telling the others the latest Spamton Revelation Of The Day

(i plan to put more of their convos in the next chapter, which is almost done as i've had it set aside a lot in lieu of a new job lol but i'm gettin there)

I dont plan on bringing kris into this fic, mostly because i'm unsure what canon will do, and this fic is like an au equivalent of a waiting-room-for-chapter-3-to-come-out-for-me like we know for the lightners it's over the course of the week, but for darkners, so little has been said about how their world works it's the creativity juices coming into play. Though he eagerly awaits their return and to be his best self just in time to be a better ally to the party than jevil :D

speaking of not knowing what canon will do, I've definitely been alluding mike to being gaster, but only because that was my favorite theory at the time of writing srpsb. After sweepstakes, it's changed a bit, or i've become a lot more open minded about all the possibilities about who mike really is. Still, I'm committing to keeping Mike as the one who was the one behind the phone and the strings, at least in this au, despite it one day maybe being turned all on its head (but hey that's the fun of fanfic lmao). Though you won't see me saying Mike=Gaster for sure, it's my favorite theory, and one i've been sold on since moment one, but one big thing in my writing is keeping many things vague since the UT/DR fandom is rich with theories and headcanons and i keep a lot of things open to interp (except acid theory like i can't get behind that one at all but yet i never have. absolutely no shame but i like the light/puppetification theory a LOT more just cuz of Spamtons plethora of themes. this isn't a surprise but ya the fic isn't friendly to acid theory lol).

[hyuckiefluff]

dr dreamy | na jaemin

pairing: doctor!neighbor! na jaemin x fem.reader genre & wc: smut, fluff, crack (ish) | 18k summary: in which your infuriatingly hot neighbor ends up getting your box of sex toys delivered to his door by mistake content warning: explicit smut, breast play, oral sex (fem.receiving), brief mentions of sex toy usage, teasing, marking, dry humping, cowgirl (yeehaw), alcohol consumption, monster cawwwk jaemin (i didn’t make this up it’s real) a/n: hiiiii yes yes i know, it’s been forever and ive neglected you all so bad i’m so sorry ! i can’t even use the excuse of being too busy bc i was just in the worst writing slump of my life. but i hope i can make up for all those 10 months of radio silence with this long fic :) also it’s pretty different from what i’m used to writing. for once i wrote it all in lowercase bc i felt like this was lowkey a pretty unserious fic and that was the vibe it required lol it’s also my first time trying to write something “funny” but my humor is not that good still i tried lolz. also i'd like to add that i know as much about doctors as the next person so don't expect much accuracy in that regard. anyways hope you enjoy :)

read part two here

your leg bounced anxiously as you stared at the photo the delivery guy sent, trying to figure out which door your package had ended up on. every single door in your building was the same plain white with no decoration, no plants, no quirky doormat to offer a clue. just a long, boring hallway of identical doors, and somewhere behind one of them was your package. 

"great," you muttered, already feeling the creeping frustration in your chest. 

your phone buzzed in your hand, and you barely had time to glance at the screen before answering. 

"sooo," came minnie's voice, far too chipper for this disaster, "did you like my gift?” 

“i’m gonna strangle you,” you hissed, rubbing your temples. 

“woah, you know i’m not into that freaky shit.” 

“i’m serious, minnie,” you groaned, dragging a hand through your hair. “the package got delivered to a different apartment. you must’ve put the wrong number on it.” 

“no way,” she gasped, already on the defensive. “i literally double-checked. triple-checked, even. it’s apartment 235.” 

"what?” you yelled, nearly dropping your phone.

this can’t be happening. out of all the apartments in your building… it had to be that one?

“minnie…” you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm, "it’s 236. apartment 236.” 

she paused. “oh.” 

you heard her laugh nervously, and it took everything in you not to throw your phone across the room. 

“minnie…” you groaned, pressing your forehead against the wall. “i swear, if it’s what i think it is based on our last conversation…” your voice trailed off as a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. “my next-door neighbor, minnie. MINNIE. jaemin…oh my god.” 

“wait,” she said, voice sharp with interest. “is that the doctor you said is too hot for his own good?” 

“i did not say that.” 

“you did.” 

“no, i said he’s just… a nice sight for my eyes, okay? in a building full of old people, sue me for appreciating the view.” you rubbed at your face. “but i can’t face him if he saw what’s in that package. i just can’t.” 

“listen…” minnie drawled. “what if he’s into it, though? think about it.” 

“i’m hanging up.” 

“no, wait—” but you pressed the red button before she could finish.  

the most mortifying experience of your 24 years on this planet, and it hadn’t even fully happened yet. but you could see it clear as day: the box, him opening it innocently, and its contents—oh, god, the contents.  

the thing is, you and minnie had a dumb tradition. whenever life got a little too miserable or stressful, you’d send each other gifts. random, stupid stuff. a manga you’d been talking about, or a plushie of your favorite sanrio character. the catch was you could never reveal what it was until it was opened. it was supposed to be a surprise.  

except this time, you were sure minnie’s idea of a "surprise" was directly inspired by your recent rants about being, well… frustrated. as in, the sexual kind of frustration. you had a strong hunch about what she’d sent. 

you sank into the couch, letting out a long sigh. you had two choices: go over there and pray he hadn’t opened it, or stay here and hope the ground swallowed you whole. both seemed equally unlikely.  

as you stared at the ceiling, someone knocked on the door.  

three soft knocks. 

your heart stopped, your body jolting so hard you nearly rolled off the couch. no. no, no, no. not him. please not him. 

you tiptoed to the door like a cartoon burglar, eyes wide with panic. don’t answer. if you don’t answer, he’ll just leave it. you could grab it later. it’s fine. everything’s fine. 

but as you got closer, you heard the softest shuffle from the other side. he was still there. you peeked through the peephole and there he was indeed… jaemin. your very handsome, very distinguished doctor neighbor. standing there, holding your box.  

you backed away from the door like it was about to explode. no, nope, you’d just wait until he— 

you bumped into the side table. hard. and in a moment of unfiltered pain, you yelled, “FUCK!” loud enough to echo down the hall. 

a long pause. 

“hello?” his voice was clear through the door. smooth, polite. 

you shut your eyes so tight you saw stars. letting him think you weren’t home was six feet under now. 

"just get it over with," you muttered to yourself, quickly checking your appearance in the mirror to make sure you didn’t look at destroyed as you felt.

you opened the door with the kind of smile you'd give a police officer who just pulled you over. "oh! good morning, neighbor!" you practically chirped, voice too high, too fake. 

he smiled, sleepy but devastatingly handsome. his scrubs hung perfectly off his frame, and his hair was tousled like he'd just came from a long night shift…which he probably did. he had the kind of face that made you think life has favorites.

“morning,” he said, nodding his head. “sorry to bother you so early, but this…” he held up the box, fingers tapping the side of it. tap tap tap your eye twitched. “this got delivered to my place by mistake.” 

he was so calm. too calm. 

“oh,” you squeaked, your voice barely functional. “uh, yeah! no worries at all! my friend sent it, haha, she’s… forgetful like that. really bad with numbers. haha…” you trailed off. kill me now.

“right,” he said, eyes flicking to the box. “well, here you go.” he held it out to you. 

you reached for it but your hands, slick with nervous sweat, betrayed you. the box slipped.  

“oh no-”  

thud.

everything.  

everything spilled out.  

time slowed. your heart dropped straight into hell. 

boxes. bottles. wrappers.  

and then the pièce de résistance.  

a sex doll. 

a life-size, anatomically correct, male sex doll.

you didn’t know what kind of sound you made, but it was something between a gasp and a whimper. your knees hit the floor as you scrambled to grab everything wishing you could somehow erase the last five seconds of reality.  

“oh my god,” you whispered, cramming the boxes into your arms. “oh my god. oh my god.”  

“uhm,” he cleared his throat and you didn’t even have to look up to know what kind of face he was making. there were no words for this. none. zero.  

“thank you for bringing it to me! bye!” you choked out, voice cracking on the last syllable as you grabbed what you could and slammed the door shut with the force of a hurricane. 

you pressed your back to the door, sinking to the floor, arms full of colorful boxes of shame. you stared at them.  

a vibrator. a bottle of lube. a very, very anatomically correct doll still half in its box.  

"minnie." you said her name like a curse.  

your phone buzzed. it was a text from her. 

minnie (6:18am): how’d it go?  

“hell,” you muttered, tossing your phone across the room. 

you sat there for what felt like hours, the weight of embarrassment crushing down on you. moving out suddenly seemed like the only reasonable option. scratch that, you were moving countries. or planets. was mars habitable yet?

♡ ♡ ♡

for the next few days, life was nothing short of miserable. you called in sick to work because there was no way you could leave your apartment and risk running into jaemin. the idea of seeing him again made your stomach twist into knots. to anyone else, it might seem dramatic—after all, owning sex toys wasn’t some scandalous crime—but the sheer context of it all was unbearable. 

the cherry on top was that the box had clearly already been opened. jaemin had definitely seen what was inside before you’d even dropped it. and the fact that he just pretended everything was normal while standing there with a straight face? it was almost worse. no, it was worse. because now he probably pitied you for dropping it in front of him even after he tried to save you from the embarrassment. 

you groaned, burying your face into the couch cushions. where was the armageddon when you needed it?

you hadn’t left your spot in the couch days, and your body was starting to hate you for it. your back ached from the awkward angle you were lying in, and your stomach growled because you’d panic-eaten the last of your food last night. 

“this is pathetic,” you muttered, grabbing your phone. 

after scrolling aimlessly for a few minutes, you reluctantly opened your food delivery app. you ordered enough food for at least two days and prayed the delivery guy would bring it to your door. but of course, life hated you, so when you got the “can’t find parking” text, you sighed loudly. 

“naturally,” you mumbled, dragging yourself off the couch. 

you threw on the most disguising outfit you could find: a black beanie, your puffy winter coat, and oversized sunglasses. did you look like a wannabe celebrity trying to dodge the paparazzi? sure. but desperate times called for desperate measures. 

you texted the driver a quick be right down and bolted to the elevator, keeping your head low. 

when you reached the parking lot, you practically snatched the bag out of the driver’s hands and mumbled a quick thank you before rushing back inside. you were so close to safety now. 

you stepped into the elevator and leaned against the wall, finally letting out a sigh of relief. but, as fate would have it, you celebrated just a tad too soon. 

just before the doors closed, a hand shot through the gap. you froze. 

you smelled him first.

that cologne. you’d know it anywhere. 

your heart sank as jaemin stepped into the elevator, looking unfairly handsome as usual. you, on the other hand, looked like a fugitive. 

“good afternoon,” he said politely, his voice calm and smooth. 

“hi, uh…afternoon,” you mumbled, holding the bag of food up to your face like a shield. maybe if you hid behind it long enough, he wouldn’t notice it was you. 

“y/n?” 

shit. 

you glanced at him reluctantly, offering an awkward laugh. “oh, hey, jaemin… didn’t realize it was you.” you pushed your sunglasses up onto your head. “these things are so dark.” 

he chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “didn’t recognize you either. are you coming from an event or something?” 

you blinked at him, realizing how ridiculous your outfit must look. “oh, no, i—uh… i have a cold,” you stammered. “just trying to stay warm, you know?” 

“ah,” he nodded, his expression softening. “well, you should rest up. drink plenty of water and maybe some tea with honey, it helps soothe your throat. oh, and—” 

he started rattling off doctorly advice and you could only stare at him, dumbfounded. because, of course, not only was he handsome, but he was kind, too. unfair. completely unfair. 

“thanks,” you said, cutting him off before he could get too deep into his list of remedies. 

he smiled at you again, and for a moment, you swore your heart skipped a beat. “i was actually a little worried,” he admitted, leaning against the elevator wall casually. “i haven’t seen you around the past few days.” 

“oh. uh… yeah,” you said weakly, shifting the food bag in your hands. “just been laying low, don’t wanna get anyone sick.” 

“i see,” he said, his tone light but teasing. “you’re not hiding from me, are you?” 

your eyes widened, and your breath caught in your throat. was it that obvious?

“what? no! why would i be hiding from you?” you forced out a laugh, but it sounded fake even to your ears. 

he raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching like he was fighting a grin. “hmm. just checking.” 

“yeah, it’s because of the cold” you muttered, fidgeting with the handle of the food bag. “it’s nothing serious, though. i appreciate the concern.” you tried to sound nonchalant, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you. 

“good to hear,” he said, his eyes still on you. “but still, if it doesn’t get better in a few days, you should probably see a doctor.” 

“right. definitely,” you nodded quickly, eyes glued to the little numbers above the elevator door, silently willing them to move faster. 

but of course, the universe hated you lately. the elevator suddenly jerked to a stop, too soon for your floor. you flinched, and before you could even begin to hope it was just a regular stop, the overhead lights flickered once, then twice, and then… nothing. 

darkness. 

“oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groaned, tilting your head back against the cold elevator wall. 

“well,” jaemin’s voice came through the darkness, and you could hear the grin in it, “this is bad timing, huh?” 

“this is my villain origin story,” you muttered, crossing your arms as you slid down to sit on the floor. “this is how i finally snap and become one of those people who yell at customer service workers.” 

he laughed, and you hated how nice it sounded. like melted chocolate. warm, smooth, and way too easy to get addicted to. 

“guess we’re stuck for a bit,” he said, sitting across from you. you could only make out the faintest outline of him in the dim emergency lighting. “not a bad person to be stuck with, though.” 

“yeah, lucky you,” you deadpanned, cradling your bag of food. 

there was a pause. not an awkward one but it felt somewhat intimate and you didn’t like it. not because you felt uncomfortable but because you were scared of embarrassing yourself further.

“hey,” he spoke up again, softer this time. “about the other day…” 

no. absolutely not. this was not happening. 

“nope,” you cut him off, waving a hand like you could physically swat the topic away. “we don’t talk about that. ever.” 

“but i think we should—” 

“we don’t, jaemin,” you said firmly, pointing at him like a scolding parent. “it never happened. you never saw it. i never dropped it. in fact, none of it exists. it was a shared hallucination caused by gas leaks in the building. that’s my story, and i’m sticking to it.” 

he snorted, hiding a laugh behind his hand. “gas leaks?” 

“yep. toxic fumes. real health hazard,” you nodded, doubling down. “you should probably get management to check that out, doctor.” 

“i’m a neurosurgeon, not an HVAC technician,” he shot back, amused. 

“same difference,” you muttered. 

another pause. you could feel him looking at you, even in the dimness. 

“for what it’s worth,” he started slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully, “i wasn’t judging you.” 

“good,” you mumbled, picking at a loose thread on your coat. “because i’m not like ashamed of it, just… mortified, you know?” you finally glanced up at him, feeling a little braver in the low light. “there’s a difference.” 

he nodded, eyes warm and understanding in a way that made your chest ache. “there is.” 

you sighed, letting your head fall back against the wall. “i’m moving. i’ve decided.” 

he laughed, full and bright. “you’re not moving.” 

“i am, actually,” you insisted. “gonna change my name, get a new identity. maybe move to the mountains. live off the grid. it’s the only way.” 

“you’re ridiculous,” he said, still grinning. 

“you say that like it’s news.” 

silence settled over you both again, but this time it was lighter. less suffocating. you could hear him shift, stretching his legs out in front of him. he tapped his fingers against his knees like he was keeping time to a song only he could hear. 

“so,” he said after a beat, voice low and casual. “was that, uh… the first time you ordered something like that?” 

your whole face went hot.

“jaemin,” you warned. 

“what?” he asked, the picture of innocence. “just curious.” 

“don’t make me call those toxic fumes back in here,” you threatened, pointing a stern finger at him. 

he threw his head back laughing, and despite yourself, you smiled too.

"fine, i won’t bring it up anymore,” he said with a tired smile, rubbing the back of his neck. his fingers pressed into the muscle there, and he winced slightly. 

“you okay?” you asked, glancing at him with concern. 

“yeah, just a long day at work,” he replied, rolling his shoulder like it’d been bothering him for hours. 

“yeah, i can imagine. the life of a doctor must be pretty hectic,” you said, eyes flicking to his hands as they worked over the tense muscle. “but you gotta know your limits too… you’re not made of steel, you know.” there was a hint of worry in your voice, and you tried not to let it show too much, but judging by the way he glanced at you, he caught it. 

he looked at you for a moment, longer than usual, before nodding. “you’re right,” he let out a short breath. “i guess i’ve been burying myself in work lately. but it’s hard not to when it’s this time of the year… i’m a pediatric neurosurgeon and too many kids get sick and hurt during the summer.” 

“oh, definitely. i’m not even a kid and i always get sick in the summer,” you joked, hoping to lighten the mood. 

he laughed at that, his grin easy and genuine. “never too late to have fun during the summer,” he said, leaning back against the elevator wall. “just not too much fun. can’t party too hard with a cold.” 

“do i look like the kind of person who parties too hard?” you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“hmm,” he tilted his head with a slight (cute) pout. “i wouldn’t know. we don’t know each other that well.” he glanced at you, eyes flicking over you just once before smirking. “but you’re young and pretty, so why not?” 

your heart stumbled in your chest, and you fought to keep your face neutral. did he seriously just call you pretty so casually like it was a fact of life?  the dim lighting of the elevator became your saving grace, hiding the warmth that crept up your neck. 

"want a piece?" you asked, anxiously trying to change the subject, raising the bag of fried chicken in your hands. you shook it lightly to emphasize. "i have a feeling we're gonna be stuck here for a while, and it's still warm."

he raised an eyebrow, his grin widening into something a little playful. “don’t mind if i do.” 

he moved closer, close enough that your shoulders almost brushed, and you set the bag down in front of you both. “dig in,” you said gesturing with your hands toward the chicken.

“so… you’re a doctor…” you said after a couple minutes of eating in silence. 

“last time i checked, yeah,” he replied, glancing over at you with a faint smile. 

“so why’d you move into this shabby building with elevators that haven’t been serviced since the stone age?” you asked, pausing to tear into a chicken wing with zero grace or subtlety.

he stared at you, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of your question or the feral way in which you were eating. 

“i’m a resident, so i don’t make nearly as much as people think. plus, med school debt is no joke. this place fit the budget.” 

“oh,” you muttered, suddenly feeling a little awkward. “sorry if that sounded kinda judgy. people tell me i’ve got a chronic case of big mouth syndrome.” 

“it’s fine,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “at least you’re honest.” 

“what about you?” he asked, tilting his head toward you. 

“me? oh same story, different font. drowning in student debt, and this place was… available,” you said, popping another wing into your mouth. 

he nodded, and after that, the conversation picked up, flowing so naturally you forgot you’d technically only been speaking to him for a week. before that you had only shared neighborly greetings in the hallway.

you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until the elevator jolted suddenly, the lights flickering back on with a low, mechanical hum. 

by then, the bag of chicken was empty, and you knew more about jaemin than you ever expected to learn in one night.

♡ ♡ ♡

“i thought elevators had some kind of emergency backup power for blackouts,” minnie said, her face pixelated on your phone screen. 

“yeah but this building’s like 60 years old,” you muttered, adjusting the camera so she could see you better. you were sitting on the floor, painting your toenails a fresh shade of lavender. “the fact that it even has an elevator is a miracle.” 

“true, true,” minnie nodded, chewing on a piece of candy. her eyes lit up suddenly. “by the way, why does your sexy doctor live there? i thought doctors were supposed to be loaded.” she propped her chin on her hand. 

“he told me he just started his residency,” you explained, blowing gently on your freshly painted nails. “and he just started a new job at the hospital. they don’t get paid that well when they’re starting out.” 

“hmm,” she hummed knowingly. “so you spend a few hours stuck in an elevator with him, and suddenly you’re an expert on the medical field, huh?” 

you rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. “it’s called having a normal conversation, you should try it”  

“i’m just saying,” minnie teased, tossing a gummy bear into her mouth. “you went in there hiding from him, and you ended up sharing chicken and life stories. i see you.”  

“there is nothing to see,” you shot back, tossing a pillow at your phone screen like she could actually feel it.  

“mm-hmm,” she hummed, leaning forward “so, did he mention it?”  

“mention what?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.  

“the box,” she said ominously, dragging out the word like it belonged in a horror movie trailer.  

you froze. “he tried to,” you admitted, tapping your fingers on the pillow in your lap. “but i shut him down real quick.”  

“oho, look at you,” she said, leaning back impressed. “miss assertive, didn’t think you had it in you.”  

“i have more pillows to throw, minnie. don’t test me.”  

“yeah, yeah, violent tendencies aside,” she waved you off, completely immune to your threats. “i hope this new confidence means you’re finally putting my gifts to use.” she tilted her head with the most innocent smile, which made it all the more sinister.  

your face went hot. so, so hot.

“i haven’t,” you lied, voice a little too high.  

“liar,” she sang, leaning closer to the camera. “i can see your shifty eyes. you definitely tried it.”  

“okay, fine, i did!” you snapped, throwing your hands up. “but it was a disaster.”  

minnie perked up with curiosity. “oh?”  

“yeah, oh,” you repeated, scratching your head. “it just… didn’t hit. it felt weird and i got frustrated, so i just gave up. plus i don’t know where you got that vibrator from but it almost burned my girlypop”  

“rookie mistake,” she sighed shaking her head dramatically. “that’s why you need someone with experience to help you out.”  

your brows furrowed. “what are you even saying right now?”  

“i’m saying,” she grinned like the devil himself, “that you have a perfectly qualified medical professional living right next door. i’m sure dr. mcdreamy wouldn’t mind giving you a consultation.”  

you blinked once. “minnie, you’re actually sick in the head.”  

“oh, please.” she tossed her hair over her shoulder, rolling her eyes. “he’s hot, he’s single, and you’ve already done half the work. you were sitting there eating fried chicken, and you’re telling me he kept throwing compliments at you? we all know you eat chicken like a truck driver, and he still thought you were pretty. use your resources, babe.”  

“he was hungry and stuck. he was probably grateful i offered him food. what else was he supposed to do?”  

“it’s so much more than that,” she said, holding up a hand, a clear signal for you to shut up and pay attention.  “i know when a man is laying the foundation and trust me, he’s building a whole mansion with your name on it.”

“you’re fully overreacting right now.”

one of minnie's strengths was that she wasn’t one to give up easily. but that also ended up being one of her flaws. you knew for a fact she wouldn’t drop this jaemin thing until she proved he had a thing for you.

“seriously, though,” she continued, leaning in so close her face was the whole screen. “he’s a doctor which means he’s like literally obligated to help people. it’s in the oath or something.”

“your point is..?”

“you know” she raised her brows suggestively “experienced hands, medical precision, and he owes you one for that chicken dinner. it’s the perfect setup.”

“you’re insane… like actually seek help.” you shook your head, trying to sound firm, but you were laughing too much to sell it.

“i’m serious,” she laughed along, “you literally blush whenever you talk about him. oh and you can’t even say his name without smiling.”

“that’s not true,” you said, shifting your position on the couch like that would somehow make your denial more convincing.

“mmhm,” she squinted her eyes, clearly not believing you.

“and for the record,” you added, jabbing your finger at the screen, “not every attractive man i meet is getting sexualized in my head. i’m not a beast.”

“no, you’re just a liar,” she shot back with a wide grin. “be real for like two seconds. i can see you smiling so hard right now.”  

“you can’t see anything,” you said, voice sharper now. “it’s the pixelation. your wifi is ass.”

“nice try,” she said, drawing out the words. “i know a bashful grin when i see one.”

“you stress me out,” you muttered, twisting the cap back on your nail polish with a little too much force.

“and yet, you call me every day.” she propped her chin on her palm, smile pure menace.

“i guess i’m a masochist,” you sighed, leaning back on the couch. “tragic, really.”

“mmhm, tragic is right,” she said, eyes narrowing into little crescents. “because now i’m gonna be your maid of honor at this wedding i didn’t even prepare for.”

“goodbye, minnie,” you deadpanned, reaching for the end call button.

“goodbye, future mrs. mcdreamy.” she winked at the camera, and before you could curse her out, she hung up.  

you sat there for a second, staring at your phone’s home screen, lips pressed tight.  

delusional.

she was delusional.

but that didn’t stop you from thinking about jaemin’s stupid grin. the way he’d looked at you while eating fried chicken, casual but present, like he was really there in the moment with you. the way his eyes lingered, just for a second too long.  

you shook your head, shoving the thought away like minnie’s words had wormed their way into your subconscious.  

nope.

you capped the nail polish, shoved your phone aside, and focused on literally anything else.  

♡ ♡ ♡

over the next few days, something shifted. not in a big, dramatic way but in a way you could feel.  

jaemin wasn’t just the polite neighbor you exchanged pleasantries with in the hall anymore. now, every time you saw him, there was this unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air like: we shared fried chicken in a broken elevator for three hours.

 this new attitude towards you was giving you whiplash. he was… extra friendly now. he smiled more, spoke to you first, acted like you were both in on some kind of inside joke. it wasn’t bad… but it wasn’t normal either.  

“morning, y/n,” he’d say as you both waited for the elevator, eyes crinkling like he’d already thought of something funny.   

“morning,” you’d reply, your gaze locked firmly on the floor. the tiles were suddenly fascinating. 

but then you’d catch the faintest trace of his cologne—the same one you’d inhaled way too much of in the elevator—and suddenly, the tiles weren’t so interesting anymore. so you’d try to sneak a glance or two, and when he wore his doctor’s coat and glasses, you couldn’t help but ogle. he was so ridiculously handsome. everything about him practically begged for you to admire. his sharp jawline, his dark eyes framed by impossibly long lashes, his lips always pink and effortlessly moisturized, his hair neatly trimmed in the back but just a bit longer in the front, falling perfectly right above his thick brows.

and he had the most captivating smile, so white it almost blinded you, and despite thinking he was the serious type at first, you quickly realized he was incredibly expressive. he communicated so much with just his brows, and it seemed impossible for him to speak without a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. like what was so funny? that you were crushing hard on him and it was kind of disrupting your life?

he was also too relaxed around you. way too relaxed. how was he so calm when he’d seen you in your most unhinged states? meanwhile, you could still feel the ghost of that moment hovering over you like a neon sign flashing "dildo girl spotted."

the third time you ran into him that week, you almost turned around to take the stairs, but you weren’t fast enough.  

“caught you,” jaemin said as soon as he spotted you, his grin sharp but not unkind. “thinking of bailing on me?”  

you paused like you were actually considering it. “don’t flatter yourself,” you said, walking forward like you’d planned to all along. “the stairs are just bad for my knees.”  

“oh, is that right?” he asked, stepping aside with a sweep of his hand. "good thing elevators exist, huh?”  

“lucky me,” you muttered, slipping inside. he followed right after, too close for comfort but not close enough to call him out on it.  

“lucky me,” he added, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, head tilted just so. "would’ve missed you otherwise."  

you had to bite back the cough that almost escaped when he said that, his lazy smile firmly in place like always.

you glanced at him, squinting. "what's with you lately?"  

“what do you mean?”  

“this,” you gestured at him vaguely. “all this… talking. you weren’t like this before.”  

“maybe i just needed an excuse,” he said with a nonchalant shrug “and three hours in an elevator with you was a pretty good one.”  

you blinked, momentarily at a loss. what were you even supposed to say to that?  

“did you rehearse that?,” you muttered, turning away before he could see the corner of your mouth twitch.  

“why, is it too corny? but you’re smiling,” he pointed out, you could hear his smile.

“no, i’m not.”  

“you are,” he said confidently, leaning in just a little like he was trying to see it up close. “it’s cute.”  

you flinched back, eyes wide. “don’t say that.”  

“why not?” he grinned wider, clearly pleased with himself. “it’s true.”  

“oh my god.” you turned so far away from him it was a miracle you didn’t phase through the wall. “stop talking.”  

“can’t,” he said, all too happy to keep going. “we’re closer now. shared chicken trauma and all that.”  

“that is not a thing.”  

“it is,” he nodded confidently. “you can’t just sit in a powerless elevator with someone for hours and pretend you’re strangers afterward. that’s, like, scientifically impossible.”  

“scientifically impossible?” you repeated, eyebrows raised. “you’re making things up.”  

“and here you are listening to all of it,” he shot back, tilting his head toward you, his gaze a little too sharp. 

checkmate.

you opened your mouth, ready to respond, but your brain was buffering.. 

"that’s what i thought," he said, his voice low and too satisfied, just as the elevator dinged.  

the doors opened. he didn’t move right away, gaze lingering on you as if he was waiting for something…or maybe just seeing how long you’d hold it.  

“you talk too much,” you muttered, stepping out with your head high like you had the upper hand.  

“I think you like it,” he called after you, the amusement in his voice so obvious you could practically hear the grin on his face.  

your heart did that annoying skip thing, and this time, you didn’t have an excuse for it.  

♡ ♡ ♡

things only got worse after that.  

jaemin, apparently, had decided that you were fun to mess with now.

he wasn’t over-the-top about it, though. no, he was too smooth for that. he played it cool, weaving little comments and actions into your interactions. a smile that lingered too long, leaning in just a little too close when he asked a question, throwing casual compliments like they didn’t mean anything.  

it was unfair, really. he’d gone from the quiet, polite neighbor, the one who worked long shifts at the hospital and mostly kept to himself,  to an actual menace in the span of three days. and somehow, you were the target of all of it.

the first time it happened, you brushed it off as coincidence. the second time, you thought maybe he was just being nice because you shared food with him so perhaps he thought that he owed you. by the third time, you realized: this man was having fun at your expense.

“new hair?” he asked casually one evening as you struggled with your keys outside your door.  

you froze, glancing up at him in confusion. “what?”  

“your hair,” he repeated, nodding toward you. “looks good.”  

your brows furrowed. “it’s the same as always,” you muttered, turning back to the lock that was absolutely refusing to cooperate.  

“huh.” he tilted his head, as if he were genuinely surprised. “then i guess it’s just you.”  

what does that even mean?!

your hands fumbled, and the key slipped from your fingers, clattering to the floor.  

jaemin’s laugh was soft but unmistakably amused. “you okay there?”  

“don’t you have patients to save or something?” you snapped, crouching down to snatch the key off the ground before he even had the chance to get it for you.

“off duty,” he shrugged, leaning against the wall next to you. his smile had that easy confidence you were beginning to associate with him now. “but i’ll step in if you need medical attention. emotional support counts too.”  

you groaned so loud it echoed in the hallway. “i swear, i liked you better when you were quiet.”  

“oh, you like me?” he asked, his grin widening just enough to make your stomach flip in protest.  

“past tense,” you shot back, finally shoving the key into the lock and turning it with more force than necessary.  

“if you say so,” he replied, drawing out the word like he didn’t believe you for a second.  

“you’re insufferable,” you muttered, turning around with your key in hand, gripping it like a weapon. “how do you live with yourself?”  

“one day at a time,” he replied, dead serious.

you shot him a glare as you finally shoved the key into the lock. it turned smoothly this time.  

“maybe you should try it,” he added, just as you opened the door.  

“try what?” you asked, already regretting engaging.  

“living with me,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. he even had the audacity to wink.  

you nearly slammed the door in his face.  

“goodnight, jaemin,” you snapped, stepping inside.  

“sweet dreams, love,” he called after you, his voice warm and smug in a way that lingered.  

you closed the door, locked it, and leaned your head against it with a groan that could only be described as deep emotional fatigue.

“then i guess it’s just you.”

you stayed pressed against the door for a little too long, thinking about it.  

he’s the worst.

the absolute worst.

♡ ♡ ♡

then came the visiting.  

you heard a quiet, rhythmic knock knock knock on your door one night. not frantic, not loud just steady enough to make you pause in the middle of scrolling through your phone.  

you frowned. minnie wasn’t the “surprise visit” type, and you definitely hadn’t ordered food. so who…  

when you opened the door, he was right there. 

jaemin.

he leaned against the doorframe, one arm propped against it, the other tucked into his pocket. his posture was relaxed, but his eyes sparkled with that familiar glint of mischief.

“what do you want?” you asked, gripping the door like it was a shield between you and whatever ridiculousness he was about to say.  

“so rude,” he said, mock-offended, though the lazy grin on his face betrayed him. “you invite a guy to share fried chicken once, and suddenly you’re heartless?”  

“oh, please.” you stepped back slightly, but you didn’t close the door. “i offered it. don’t act like i saved you from a tragic famine.”  

“true,” he agreed, his gaze dropping for a split second, flickering over you like he was trying to catch you off guard. “but since you brought it up, i was thinking about how we never got dessert.”  

you blinked, thrown off by the randomness. “what?”  

“dessert,” he repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “fried chicken’s great and all, but it’s not a complete meal. we missed out.”  

“and what, you came to my door at 9 pm to tell me that?”  

“yep.” he rocked back on his heels, completely unbothered. “i figured you owed me by now.”  

“owed you?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes. “for what, exactly?”  

“emotional support,” he said, grinning like he’d been waiting for you to ask. “that elevator ride? life-changing experience. bonded for life. it’s only fair you buy me dessert.”  

you tried to fight it. you really did. but the laugh slipped out anyway, betraying you.  

his grin widened, the kind that wasn’t just smug… it was triumphant.  

“fine,” you sighed, grabbing your phone off the counter. “but you’re paying next time.”  

“next time?” he echoed, his voice tilting upward just slightly. he leaned forward, close enough that the space between you suddenly felt smaller. “so you’re already planning our next elevator date?”  

oh, this man.

“don’t push your luck,” you muttered, pointing a finger at him while you tapped through your food delivery app. “i might close the door on your face next time.”  

“you like me too much to do that,” he said softly, and this time his tone wasn’t teasing.  

it was smooth, confident, and just low enough to make you glance up without thinking.  

your thumb hovered over your screen for a second too long before you forced yourself to break eye contact. you picked the first dessert you saw just to escape the moment and right before you got to pay he snatched the phone from you and put in his card details.

“so annoying,” you muttered.  

“gentlemanly,” he replied easily.

“you’re lucky i’m too tired to throw you out,” you shot back, already regretting how much you were letting him get away with.  

“lucky?” he asked, smirking. “i’d say you’re the lucky one. who else brings dessert and great company?”  

you groaned, loudly, just to drown him out.  

♡ ♡ ♡

thirty minutes later, you were sitting side by side on your couch, barely an inch between you, sharing a container of chocolate lava cake like it was the most natural thing in the world.  

“don’t hog it,” you grumbled, jabbing at his hand with your spoon when he took an extra-large bite.  

“it’s called portion control,” he argued, entirely unapologetic as he went for another.  

“it’s called stealing,” you shot back, scooping up a bigger piece just to even the playing field.  

“maybe,” he said, glancing at you with that maddening grin. “but you’re letting me get away with it.”  

“only because i don’t want to waste food,” you countered, though your voice lacked the conviction you wanted it to have.  

he leaned back slightly, his shoulder brushing against yours in a way that felt too casual to be an accident.  

“you’re really bad at lying, you know that?” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make you pause.  

you turned to glare at him, spoon still in hand, but the words caught in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you.  

he wasn’t grinning anymore. not exactly.  

it wasn’t a smirk or a joke or one of those teasing little quips he always threw your way. it was… softer. almost curious.  

your heart stuttered before you could stop it.  

“and you’re annoying,” you said again, but this time it came out quieter.  

his lips twitched, like he was holding back a laugh.  

“you already said that but i think it loses meaning when you let me hang out with you for this long,”  he murmured.  

you didn’t reply. you couldn’t. not when the air felt so… different.  

so instead, you turned back to the TV, grabbed another spoonful of lava cake, and shoved it into your mouth as an excuse to not say anything.  

he chuckled softly, the sound barely audible over the hum of the TV.  

♡ ♡ ♡

the next few days went by pretty much the same. whenever you bumped into jaemin in the hallway, the parking lot, or even at the local cafe, his eyes would lock on you like a heat-seeking missile, ready to tease you in a way that you hated to admit was starting to feel oddly enjoyable.

but everything escalated the day minnie came to visit you.

it had been a while since you two last saw each other, given that she lived in a different city. as soon as she arrived, you were buzzing with excitement. but you’d forgotten one crucial thing… minnie had a rare, borderline supernatural ability to drive you absolutely insane.

“i can't believe you had a second chicken date with him and still didn’t jump his bones… have i taught you nothing?” she said, exasperated as she popped a handful of popcorn into her mouth. dawson’s creek reruns were playing in the background, and as if that show didn’t depress you enough, minnie’s relentless criticism of your non-existent love life was making it worse.

“it wasn’t a chicken date,” you groaned. “we had cake. and why would i jump his bones when we’ve only just started speaking more than two words to each other like, last week?”

“you don’t get it,” minnie said, turning to face you with the gravity of someone about to lecture you. “a man doesn’t just knock on your door asking you to have dessert with him unless he has a different idea of what 'dessert' is.” she raised her eyebrows suggestively.

“ew, don’t make that face,” you winced. 

“i’m serious, y/n. if you keep shutting down every man that’s interested in you, the only dick you’ll get is that inflatable one i got you.”

“not even,” you sighed, slumping against the couch. “i haven’t taken it out of the box yet. and i won’t. that thing already embarrassed me enough for the next two lifetimes.”

“but if you think about it, if it weren’t for tom, you’d still be secretly crushing on dr. mcdreamy.”

“you did not just name the sex doll tom,” you said, eyes narrowing.

“i think we should at least go out tonight since you’re clearly not gonna put the moves on your sexy neighbor.”

“absolutely not,” you shook your head, pulling the blanket tighter around you. “ i’m not about to waste my night talking to any guy who thinks 'intellectual debate' means arguing about protein powder.”

“okay, harsh… no wonder you’re single,” she muttered as she got up and started tapping away on her phone.

“who’re you calling?” you asked, squinting at her suspiciously.

“there’s only one person who can drag you out of this apartment,” she muttered with a sly grin. "hold on—hello? jake? yeah, guess who i’m with right now?" she paused dramatically, glancing at you with a wicked smile. "your favorite girl, obviously!" she snickered, tilting her phone just enough to snap a photo of you mid-protest. 

“dude, c’mon, i’m in my grandma pjs right now,” you said, pointing at the flowery pajama top you were wearing.

“how about we meet up at the neo club? yeah? awesome, and bring one of your hot friends,” she added, grinning like a cat that just cornered a bird.

she hung up, looking triumphant, but you folded your arms with a scowl.

“there’s no way i’m going out,” you said flatly.

♡ ♡ ♡

you still ended up going out.

but only because they offered to pay for all your drinks, and who were you to refuse such a generous offer?

it didn’t take long to spot jake. he was already stirring up trouble at the bar, his charm dialed up to 100 as he leaned in close, tossing out some line that had the bartender blushing so hard she had to look away just to keep it together.

“ugh, casanovas make me sick,” you grumbled, scrunching your nose as you watched him.

“stop harassing the lady, jake,” minnie said, grabbing him by the collar and tugging him away from the bar. he turned around with a mock-offended gasp.

“excuse you, she was absolutely enjoying that,” he said with an infuriating level of confidence. he wasn’t even wrong—the bartender was still grinning.

“whatever, tiger. look who’s out of her cave!” minnie announced, shoving you forward slightly.

jake’s eyes lit up the second he saw you. he practically lunged forward, wrapping you in a bear hug and lifting you off the ground.

“no way! my y/n! it’s been, what, four years since i last saw you?” he spun you in a small circle before finally setting you down.

“please don’t be so dramatic. we saw each other last year on your birthday,” you laughed, shoving his chest.

“too long for me, babe. you know seeing you is always a treat,” he said, giving you one of those overly saccharine smiles he knew would make you roll your eyes.

“when are you ever not flirting? is that your default mode? is there any way to reset you?” you said, tapping his forehead like you were trying to reboot a broken phone.

“you know you love it,” he winked, and somehow it was both annoying and charming at the same time.

“anyways, where are the drinks i was promised?” you extended a hand expectantly.

“here you go, princess,” he said, handing you a tequila sunrise with a flourish. “and here you go, troll,” he added, handing minnie a margarita.

“i’ll kill you,” minnie slapped his arm hard enough to make him flinch.

“ow, abuse! abuse!” he cried dramatically, clutching his arm as if he’d been mortally wounded.

“you’ll live,” minnie muttered, taking a sip from her glass.

the night was already off to a wild start, and you had a sinking feeling it was only going to get worse.

♡ ♡ ♡

“so you’re telling me the box with all the freaky shit minnie sent ended up being delivered to your neighbor?” jake was practically doubled over, clutching his stomach from laughing so hard. “and he opened it?”

“yeah, laugh it up,” you said, unamused as you swirled the straw in your drink before taking a long sip. you’d lost count of how many drinks you’d had, but the warmth in your chest and the slight buzz in your head told you it was definitely more than a couple.

“if i were you, i would’ve moved,” he said, wiping at the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “i’m trying to think of a time i’ve been that embarrassed and not even my drunkest moments come close.” he shook his head like he genuinely felt bad for you, though the grin on his face said otherwise.

“believe me, i tried to avoid him,” you said, gesturing with your drink in hand. “but somehow, after that, he started sticking to me like gum on a shoe.”

“i’m telling you, he wants you!” minnie slurred, her eyes barely staying focused as she swayed slightly in her seat. clearly, she was the drunkest one at the table, her words carrying that telltale wobble of too many cocktails.

“don’t start with that again,” you shot back, tossing a napkin in her direction. “he doesn’t want me. he just likes messing with me because he figured out i’m an easy target.”

“oh, really?” she said, eyes narrowing like she’d just come up with the most brilliant plan. “then call him right now. and if he answers, put him on speaker.”

“like hell i will,” you snorted, glancing at your phone. “it’s-” you checked the time “…literally 3am. why would i disturb him just to prove your silly little theories?”

“coward! coward!” minnie started chanting, slapping the table. jake immediately caught on and joined her, their voices syncing up in a way that only drunk friends could manage. “coward! y/n is a chicken!” they sang in unison, making sure to drag out the last word obnoxiously.

“ugh, why do i have friends like you two…” you muttered, covering your ears as their chanting grew louder. “okay! fine! stop that right now, i’ll text him. once.” you jabbed a finger in the air for emphasis, giving them both a stern glare that did absolutely nothing to dim their excitement.

“what do i even say…” you groaned, staring at your empty chat with jaemin.

“send him a picture,” jake suggested.

you thought about it for a second, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “fine,” you muttered, lifting your phone. fueled by alcohol and peer pressure, you decided on the classic "oops, wrong person" strategy. you snapped a quick selfie, pursing your lips into a kissy face for maximum effect. you didn’t even care that it was blurry or that you looked very obviously drunk. in fact, that made it funnier. you snickered to yourself as you hit send.

“he won’t reply, guys,” you said confidently, tossing your phone onto the table face-down. but barely ten seconds passed before you heard the unmistakable ping of a new message.

“you were saying?” minnie arched a brow, crossing her arms in mock satisfaction.

“it’s probably just some random notification,” you said with a shrug, but your voice wavered as you picked up your phone. you tapped the screen, eyes widening slightly at the name that appeared.

jaemin neighbor (3:02am): ‘thought you weren’t one to party hard?’ 

the message was punctuated with a little smirk emoji that somehow made it worse.

“what’d he say?” minnie asked, leaning in so far you thought she might topple over.

you barely had time to answer before another message popped up.

jaemin neighbor (3:03am): ‘don’t drink too much though, you’re still recovering from that cold. and don’t let strangers hold your drink.’

your eyes stayed glued to the screen, heart doing an odd little flip that you refused to acknowledge. 

“oh my god, he’s worried,” minnie gasped, hands flying to her face. “he’s literally whipped!” she squealed, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you back and forth with unhinged glee.

♡ ♡ ♡

after seeing jaemin's message, you decided you needed to get drunker to drown out the thoughts swirling in your head. by the time you got back to the apartment, your uber driver had to practically haul you out of the car. you were a complete mess, your feet barely cooperating with the ground beneath you. minnie ended up hitting it off with jake’s friend so she decided to leave with him to do god knows what dirty things.

“woah there!” you yelped as you stumbled, nearly falling backward.

“ma’am, what’s your apartment number?” the driver asked. all you could do was laugh and mumble some random string of numbers that didn’t come close to making sense.

“y/n?” a familiar voice cut through the fog in your mind, sharp and clear like a bell. it almost sobered you up on the spot. he was wearing his scrubs and his tired appearance told you that he was coming back from a long shift.

“mr. doctor is here!” you announced with unrestrained glee, throwing your arms up. the sudden movement made you lose balance, and you tilted sideways bumping into the driver.

“you know her, sir?” he asked, his forehead shiny with sweat, clearly desperate for an exit out of this.

“uhm, yeah, she’s my next-door neighbor. i’ll take it from here, thanks,” jaemin said, stepping in with the calm authority of someone who’s seen this exact scenario a dozen times before. with zero effort, he crouched down and hoisted you onto his back, his hands steady under your thighs to keep you secure.

“wheee!” you squealed, your cheek smushed against the back of his head.

“hold on tight, yeah?” he muttered, his tone dry but fond as he adjusted his grip on your legs.

inside the elevator, you got bold. maybe it was the tequila, maybe it was just you accepting your undeniable attraction to jaemin, but your hands found their way to his arms. you gave his biceps an experimental squeeze and then hummed, thoroughly impressed. “do all doctors got big, muscular arms or just you?” you asked, squeezing again as if conducting a very important scientific investigation.

jaemin’s lips twitched, like he was fighting back a smile. “do you always get this touchy when you’re drunk?” he replied, shifting you slightly higher on his back.

“oh wow, you smell so good,” you said, burying your nose in his hair. “like… like one of those fancy candles you’re not supposed to light cause they’re too expensive.” you giggled against his head, completely oblivious to the way his ears flushed pink at the compliment.

“i told you not to drink too much,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “this is dangerous, you know.”

“sorryyyyyy,” you whined, dragging out the word. “but you know what they say about alcohol… uh, ‘wine before whiskey, you’re feelin’ frisky’?” you squinted, clearly thinking very hard.

jaemin tilted his head, giving you a side-eye full of disbelief and amusement. “that’s absolutely not the saying,” he said, his voice low and warm with a hint of laughter.

“no?” you pouted. “then it’s… ‘drinks before thoughts, memories get lost!’” you declared with absolute confidence.

he let out a full, genuine laugh, his shoulders shaking under you as he carried you down the hallway. “close enough,” he muttered.

♡ ♡ ♡

in front of your door, you squinted at the digital lock like it had personally wronged you. you pressed one button, then another, and frowned when the screen blinked angrily. your brain felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, and trying to remember your code right was harder than trying to solve a riddle while underwater. 

“ugh, whatever,” you groaned, letting out an exaggerated sigh before plopping down on the floor, legs sprawled out.

“what are you doing?” jaemin's voice came from above, and when you tilted your head back, you saw him crouched in front of you, eyebrows raised.

“can’t remember the code, so m’ sleeping here. duh,” you replied with the kind of lazy confidence and lack of urgency only drunk people have. you reached out and booped him on the nose simply because he looked cute like a bunny in your inebriated mind.

he blinked, clearly thrown, before a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “no, you’re not,” he said, shaking his head. he stood up, offering his hand. “come on.”

“ugh, fiiine,” you groaned, letting him pull you up, though you were basically dead weight. he slipped an arm around your waist to steady you, and the warmth of his hand pressed against the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up. the touch was casual but it sent a sharp jolt of awareness through you. 

you bit your lip to distract yourself from the sudden rush of heat. blame it on the alcohol. definitely the alcohol. 

“i never sleep in a guy’s apartment ‘til…” you held up your hand and started counting on your fingers, lips moving as you mumbled to yourself. “like the 6th date.” 

“that so?” jaemin glanced at you, his voice raspy in a way that made something flip in your stomach. 

“mmhm,” you hummed, leaning your weight against him. “gotta have rules, y’know? safety first.” 

“you’re not wrong,” he replied, guiding you toward his door with slow, careful steps. “but that logic’s got a flaw, don’t you think?” 

you squinted up at him, skeptical. “what flaw?” 

“you’re here with me, and we’re not even on date three,” he said simply, giving you a pointed look. 

you tried to ignore the fact that he considered the elevator and that night at your apartment as dates.

“that’s different,” you countered, waving a hand like that somehow made you right. 

he glanced down at you, eyes sharp but soft in the way they flickered across your face. “how?” 

you blinked, suddenly too aware of the space between you two — or the lack of it. his arm was firm around your waist, and you could feel the rise and fall of his breathing. 

“you tell me, doc,” you muttered, avoiding his eyes. 

there was a brief silence, just the quiet hum of the hallway lights and the soft shuffle of your feet. his fingers curled slightly against your hip, the pressure grounding but gentle. when he spoke again, his tone had shifted — quieter, steadier. 

“i’d never do anything to hurt you,” he said, voice sure like a promise. his eyes met yours, serious in a way that knocked the air right out of your lungs. 

you didn’t have a quick comeback for that one. 

he held your gaze for a moment longer before clearing his throat, eyes flicking away. “anyway,” he said, his voice back to its usual steady calm, “you can sit for a bit. i’ll get you some tea and food, sober you up.” 

“huh?” you blinked, your tipsy mind still trying to catch up after that intense moment you just shared. 

“sit,” he repeated, guiding you toward the couch like you were a stubborn cat. “tea. food. you’ll thank me later.” 

you flopped onto the couch with zero grace, still buzzing from everything.

your head was throbbing, but that wasn’t half as uncomfortable as the rapid thumping of your heart against your chest. it wasn’t normal. it couldn’t be normal. you pressed a hand to your chest like that might somehow slow it down.  

“what is this…” you muttered under your breath, tilting your head back against the couch. 

you were spiraling, no doubt about it. overthinking everything. it’s just jaemin, you reminded yourself. your neighbor. your kind neighbor. of course he’d say stuff like that. he’s a good person, and good people say things like "i’d never hurt you" all the time, right? it didn’t mean anything. didn’t mean a single thing. 

calm down, y/n.

you blew out a slow breath, trying to trick your heart into believing you were unbothered. 

jaemin came back moments later, a cup of tea in one hand and a small plate of buttered toast in the other. he’d ditched his jacket, now in just a fitted black t-shirt and scrub pants. you weren’t sure what was more distracting… the way the fabric clung to his chest and arms, or the way the veins in his forearms stood out as he set the plate down. you stared a little too long, gaze following the flex of his muscles.  

he’s just a guy, you thought, just a guy with arms that look like they were carved out of marble. 

“okay, drink this,” he said, nudging the tea toward you. his voice had slipped into his "doctor tone", soft but firm, like he fully expected to be obeyed. “you’ll feel better. if you feel dizzy or like you’re gonna throw up, let me know. i’ll go shower real quick, and you can shower after.”  

he disappeared into his room before you could respond

you sat there for a second, letting the silence settle around you. without him there, you finally took a proper look at his place. it was weirdly nice for a building as old and shabby as this one. sleek, modern furniture, spotless floors, a faint scent of something woodsy and clean. candles lined the windowsill, and he had an at-home gym tucked neatly in one corner. 

of course he does, you thought, he’s probably too busy saving lives to hit a real gym. 

you bit your lip, remembering the way his arms had felt around your waist. the heat of his skin seeping through the fabric of your shirt. and now, after seeing how built he actually was, it was starting to make a lot more sense. 

“ugh, stop it,” you muttered, shaking your head. it was just the alcohol messing with you. that, and the fact that you were definitely ovulating because there was no way you’d be acting like this otherwise. the combination was lethal. 

you reached for the tea, eager for something to snap you out of your head, but the second you took a sip— 

“ah—!” you yelped, dropping the cup. hot liquid splashed onto the floor, the mug clattering after it. thankfully, it missed your legs but your tongue throbbed like you’d just bitten into molten lava. 

“shit,” you hissed, sticking your tongue out like that might cool it down. 

“what happened?” jaemin’s voice came from the bathroom, sharp with concern.  

“‘s fine!” you tried to call back, but with your tongue still stinging, it came out garbled. “ihz ohkaay!” 

the sound of the shower stopped. you barely had a second to panic before jaemin burst into the living room, dripping wet, a loose towel slung dangerously low on his hips.  

you froze. 

oh.

oh my god.

if this were an anime, you’d have shot out a nosebleed so powerful it’d blast you into another dimension.  

“what happened?” he asked, eyes darting to the mess on the floor, then back to you. he crouched beside you, eyes scanning you likely looking for injuries. water dripped from his hair, trailing down the sharp planes of his face, his chest, his abs… 

his abs.

your gaze locked on the V-line that dipped beneath the edge of his towel, and your brain short-circuited. every coherent thought you’d ever had dissolved on the spot. you didn’t even realize you’d spoken aloud until you heard your own voice. 

“oh my god.”  

jaemin blinked, eyebrows drawing together in worry. “what?” 

“n-nothing!” you stammered, face heating faster than the tea had. you slapped a hand over your eyes like that might erase the image from your mind. it did not. it was burned in.

he frowned, his puppy-dog concern on full display. “i’m sorry, i should’ve warned you the tea was hot.” his gaze shifted to your tongue, still sticking out as you tried to cool it with air. his frown deepened. 

“izzokay,” you said, or at least tried to. with your tongue swollen and numb, it sounded more like “iz okeh, iz my fauwt.”  

“hold on,” he said, his tone dropping into doctor mode. “stay put. you might cut yourself on the glass.”  

he moved with quick precision, ducking into the kitchen and coming back with a towel and some paper towels to clean up. you, unfortunately, had nothing to do but sit there and watch him. and watch him you did.  

the way his muscles shifted under his skin with every movement. the flex of his back, the dip of his hips, the subtle pull of his abs as he crouched to pick up shards of glass. you sat there like a fool, cheeks blazing, unable to look away.  

he could model for anatomy textbooks, you thought, completely mesmerized. like, imagine turning to page 47 and seeing this man labeled as "muscular system: front view."

every part of him moved with that annoying grace certain people just had. the kind of grace that was only possible when you were stupidly, unfairly attractive.  

he wiped the floor clean and tossed the paper towels aside, giving one final glance at the spot to make sure there wasn’t a single shard left behind. then he turned to you.  

“all clear,” he said, standing to his full height. the towel on his hips slipped slightly lower, and your gaze shot to the ceiling so fast you almost got whiplash.  

“thanks,” you muttered, trying to keep your eyes anywhere but there. you still saw it in your peripheral vision. 

he tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “you sure you’re okay?” 

am i okay? absolutely not. your tongue was burnt, your pride was in pieces, and your brain was playing a slow-motion highlight reel of his abs. you were the furthest thing from okay.  

“yep,” you croaked, voice cracking at the end. 

“here you go,” he said, handing you a glass of cold water. “it should help your tongue.”

“thanks,” you mumbled, cradling the glass with both hands. you refused to look directly at him, eyes darting everywhere in the room. the slow drip of condensation on the glass suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the world.

“are you hot? you’re sweating,” he asked, leaning forward, his gaze landing on you with that soft concern he wore too easily.

you nearly spat the water back out. of course you were hot. this whole situation was hot. the room was hot. he was hot.

“it’s fine,” you blurted, shaking your head a little too quickly. “i’ll just shower.”

“yeah, sure. go ahead,” he said, nodding toward the hallway. “bathroom’s the door on the left.”

he glanced down at you, eyes flickering over your dress just briefly. instinctively, you tugged at the hem like that would magically make it longer. you should’ve known minnie was setting you up when she called this look “casually dangerous.”

“your clothes…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “they don’t look super comfortable to sleep in, so if you want, i can lend you something.”

there was no reason for your heart to leap into your throat the way it did. it was a normal offer. a completely normal, helpful offer. but your brain decided to be weird about it. suddenly, you were picturing yourself in one of his shirts, fabric hanging loose on you, the scent of detergent and him faintly clinging to it. god, you needed help.

“okay,” you said, trying to sound normal, but it came out too fast.

“i’ll grab them for you,” he said, already heading toward his room.

as soon as he disappeared, you collapsed against the couch, exhaling hard like you’d just survived a boss fight. you dragged your hands down your face, letting out a muffled groan.

“pull it together,” you hissed at yourself.

walking into the bathroom didn’t help. the warmth hit you instantly, soft steam curling in the air. it smelled like aftershave and clean skin, and if there was a single coherent thought left in your brain, it got drowned out by the sensory overload.

“seriously?” you muttered under your breath, tilting your head back with a groan. “what am i, thirteen?”

the mirror was fogged up, so you wiped at it with your sleeve, only to be faced with your own reflection staring back at you like girl, really? you pressed your hands to your cheeks, feeling the warmth that had nothing to do with the steam.

“i’m normal,” you announced firmly to no one but yourself.

except you weren’t, and you knew it. it wasn’t just the alcohol making your brain short-circuit anymore. you were sober now, and this was just you being ridiculous. the neatly folded clothes on the counter didn’t help. a plain white shirt and a pair of sweatpants sat there, fresh and clean.

you eyed the sweatpants, then glanced down at your legs, already knowing how this was gonna play out. still, you gave it a shot, pulling them up your legs after taking a (very) long shower. unsurprisingly, they swallowed you whole, the cuffs dragging behind you. yeah, no. you’d trip over yourself in less than a minute. sighing, you snatched up the shirt instead and pulled it over your head. it slipped down past your hips, the sleeves flopping well past your hands, turning them into little paw-like stubs.

“this will have to do,” you decided with a sharp nod to yourself.

when you finally stepped out of the bathroom, jaemin was lounging on the couch, scrolling on his phone. his gaze flickered up at you, and for a split second, he just blinked, eyes tracking down your frame before quickly darting back to his phone.

“where are the pants?” he asked, lips quirking up just slightly at the corner.

“too big,” you said. 

“hmm” he hummed, looking up and letting his gaze drag just a little slower this time, eyes sharp with mischief. his tongue pressed against his cheek, a lopsided grin threatening to break free. “i see”

if your heart was pounding before, it was in full percussion solo mode now. but you just flopped down beside him, acting like everything was cool, like you weren’t hyperaware of every inch of bare skin peeking out from under the too-big shirt.

you glanced at the clock on the wall — 4:30 a.m. blinked back at you in dim red light. too late to be awake but too early to call it morning. your eyes shifted to jaemin, and you could see the weight of exhaustion hanging on him. his blinks were slower, his body slouched deeper into the couch cushions.  

“jaem…” the nickname slipped out without warning, soft but certain. his eyes lifted to you immediately.

“you can go to sleep. i’m fine,” you said with a small smile, hoping it was convincing. “and… thank you. for everything. you’re too nice to me.”

his gaze lingered on you, steady and unguarded, like he was committing you to memory. then, his lips curved slowly into a smile. not his usual teasing grin but something gentler, sweeter. it hit you square in the chest, and you had to physically fight the urge to lean forward and kiss him.  

you did not win that fight.

instead, you moved on instinct… leaning in and wrapping your arms around him. the moment you did, you panicked. it felt stiff, clumsy, like you’d misread the whole situation. you were just about to pull away when his arms slid around your waist, slow but sure.  

he pulled you in, pulled you all the way in, until you were practically draped over him. your breath caught in your throat, heart thudding so hard you swore he could feel it.  

his head dipped down, face tucked into the curve of your neck. the warmth of his breath hit your skin in soft bursts, and his hold on you tightened just a little more.  

“it’s my pleasure,” he murmured, voice low and raspier than it had been all night. his lips brushed against your collarbone as he spoke, “always.”

good god, you nearly let out a sound you’d never be able to live down. every nerve in your body was on high alert. it had been so long since you’d been held like this.

his nose nudged against your neck lazily. you felt the butterflies in your stomach riot, wings frantic against your ribs.  

“jaem…” you said, but it came out too soft, too breathless to sound like an actual warning.  

“you smell good,” he muttered, voice all sleep and satisfaction. “you always smell good.” he breathed you in.

lord, have mercy.

“i think we should both sleep,” you murmured, but neither of you moved. neither of you even thought about moving.  

“yeah,” he said, voice low and uneven.  

“yeah,” you echoed, but it sounded less like agreement and more like an excuse for staying right where you were.  

he pulled back just enough to look at you, but his arms stayed firmly around your waist. his eyes flickered down to your lips. on reflex, you wet them with a quick swipe of your tongue, suddenly self-conscious. his gaze darkened and you swore you felt the shift in the air.  

“stop me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

but stopping him didn’t even cross your mind. not when he was looking at you like that. not when his face inched closer, closer…

his lips met yours softly at first, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to decide. you decided quickly. your hands slipped into his hair, pulling him in as you kissed him back with everything you’d been holding in all night.  

he responded instantly. his hand cupped the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair to hold you in place, deepening the kiss until it wasn’t soft anymore.

his other hand found your hip, gripping you firmly as he shifted you on top of him, his touch guiding you like he knew exactly where he wanted you to be. dangerous. this was so, so dangerous. 

because you were only wearing that stupidly oversized shirt and the flimsy scrap of underwear underneath it. and when you settled fully onto his lap, you felt everything.

he must’ve felt it too, because his breath stuttered, and a needy groan escaped him, muffled against your lips. you felt it vibrate through your whole body, made you shiver as if he’d pressed his mouth to your spine instead.  

his hand on your hip squeezed, fingers digging in just a little harder. 

the kiss grew messier, wetter, breaths and tongues tangled together in a way that felt far past the point of no return. it didn’t help that his other hand left your neck, sliding down, fingertips trailing along your side before slipping under the hem of the shirt.  

his hand slid up and up until…

he froze the second he realized. his palm pressed against bare skin, no bra, no barrier. you felt his breath hitch at the same moment you heard it.  

“fuck,” he groaned into your mouth, his voice rougher now, heavier. his fingers spread wide, covering as much skin as he could reach, his palm warm and steady against your ribs.  

and when his thumb brushed up, grazing just barely under the curve of your breast, the sound you made was far too needy. his gaze flicked back up to yours. like he was asking. like he was giving you one last out.  

you didn’t take it.  

his hand moved again, bolder this time. his palm slid over the curve of your breast, warm and firm, fingers curling around it as if it belonged to him. you sighed at the contact, eyes fluttering closed as your head tipped forward. it wasn’t enough. you didn’t know what “enough” would be, but it wasn’t this.  

he must’ve felt it too, because his other hand rose to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin in slow, soothing circles. he tilted your face up, and for a moment, you thought he’d kiss you again. you tilted toward him, lips parting, but he had other plans.  

instead, he leaned in and pressed his lips just beneath your ear. the warmth of his mouth sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could even process that, he was moving lower. he kissed his way along your neck, slow and steady, with the kind of patience that made your heart feel like it was on a countdown. 

and then the kisses changed. his teeth grazed your skin, his lips sealed over the spot, and he sucked hard enough to make you gasp. your hands flew up, gripping at his shoulders as he trailed love bites down to your collarbones, marking you in a way that felt possessive, the kind you’d see after he was gone.  

“jaemin,” you whispered, your fingers digging into his shirt. his name barely sounded like a name anymore.  

his only answer was a low hum against your collarbone, his hand still working under your shirt. his fingers traced lazy lines along the sensitive skin beneath your breast, and just when you thought he was going to stay gentle, he pinched your nipple between his fingers.  

you gasped sharply, hips jolting forward on reflex. “oh—”

he didn’t stop. he rolled it slowly between his fingers, feeling out every little reaction you gave him, every twitch and shiver. your body betrayed you, arching into his touch, and the way he smiled against your neck told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you.  

instinct took over before you could think it through. your hips rocked forward against his lap — once, twice — chasing relief from the ache that had been building low in your stomach for too long. you felt the slickness between your thighs, hot and damp, soaking through the thin fabric of your underwear and seeping onto his sweatpants.  

he felt it too. you knew he did from the sharp intake of breath he took, from the way his hands squeezed tighter his fingers digging into your hip, his other hand cupping your breast with just a little more pressure.  

“fuck,” he groaned, head falling forward, his forehead pressing against your shoulder. his hips shifted beneath you, his arousal impossible to miss now. he was hard, and every roll of your hips dragged against him perfectly, making him curse under his breath.  

the heat of it all was unbearable, and you had no one to blame but yourself. but at this point, did it even matter?  

he lifted his head, jaw tight, eyes half-lidded. his gaze flickered from your face to where your hips met his lap, his tongue darting out to wet his lips 

“i don't know how much longer i can hold back…” his voice was strained.  

you blinked down at him, heart thudding hard against your ribs. every nerve in your body felt like it had been lit on fire, but somehow, you still managed to smile.  

“who told you to hold back?”you said, voice soft but sure.  

“shit…” he muttered, his voice low and wrecked. his fingers dug into your hips, guiding them down against him with a deliberate pressure that had your breath hitching in your throat.  

it wasn’t just you moving anymore. he was moving you, rocking you back and forth against him faster, tired of pretending you weren’t both desperate for it.  

your head tipped back as a broken moan spilled from your lips. the friction was too good, just the right amount of pressure to have your thighs trembling. the heat between you had gone from warm to blistering, every grind making you more sensitive, more aware of the damp mess you were both making between his sweatpants and your underwear.  

his eyes locked on you, not wanting to miss a single second of it… the arch of your back, the part of your lips, the way your breath caught every time you sank down a little harder. 

“look at you,”  he breathed, voice rough and half-laughing. “getting this worked up over a little humping”

you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. “i’m clearly not the only one,” you shot back breathlessly..  

his lips were back on you in an instant,  rougher than before, all teeth and tongue. his hands slid up your back, under his shirt you were wearing, fingers dragging against bare skin. his nails scratched lightly at your spine, sending chills down your whole body, and you gasped into his mouth.  

he didn’t let you pull away. his lips chased yours, like he’d been starving for this, like now that he’d had a taste, there was no way he was stopping. he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and your body moved on instinct, hips rolling harder against him.  

“fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, head falling back against the couch as he sucked in a breath through his teeth. his hands slid down to your thighs, gripping them tight as if to ground himself, but all it did was spur you on.  

you leaned forward, trailing kisses down his jaw, his neck, biting just enough to feel him shudder beneath you. his pulse was wild under your lips, and when you grazed your teeth against it, his hips bucked up so hard it knocked the air out of your lungs.  

“you’re making it so hard to be soft right now,” he said through gritted teeth, head tipped back, neck bared for you like an invitation. his eyes flicked down to where you sat on him, where the line between you two had blurred so badly it didn’t seem to exist anymore.  

“then don’t be,” you whispered against his ear, biting down on the lobe just to hear him curse again. “nobody asked you to be soft.”

that was all it took. his grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin with purpose. his next move was fast—you were on your back before you could register it, his body hovering over you, his weight pressing you down in a way that made your heart race in your chest.  

his eyes met yours, pupils blown wide, hair falling into his face. he looked like a mess and it was perfect.

“say that again,” he said, voice nothing but gravel and breath. his hands slid up your thighs, pushing them apart, the slow drag of his touch enough to make you squirm. “say it again so i know you mean it.”

your chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, and you reached up, fingers threading through his hair.  

“nobody,” you whispered, tugging his head down just enough to make sure he heard you, “asked you to be soft.”

for a second, he didn’t move. just stared down at you like he’d never wanted anything more in his life than to eat you up.

then he leaned in, and when he kissed you this time, it wasn’t soft or tentative or testing the waters. it was raw, hungry, and so deep it knocked the air out of you. his hands moved with purpose, sliding up your thighs, pushing his shirt higher and higher until the air hit bare skin.  

everything was heat and pressure and need. he was all you could feel, all you could hear — his breath heavy and uneven, his name falling from your lips like it was the only word you knew.  

and when he finally pressed his forehead to yours, eyes squeezed shut like he was fighting to hold himself together, you knew you’d both already lost.

the next thing you know, his hands are tugging your shirt up and over your head, the fabric barely brushing past your arms before it’s gone. the cold air hits your skin for half a second before jaemin’s mouth replaces it, hot and relentless as he traces the curve of your collarbone, his lips dragging lower, slower.

when his mouth finally closes around your right breast, it’s warm and wet and just enough to have you mewling. his tongue flicks over your nipple before sucking it into his mouth, his teeth grazing it just lightly, sending a sharp jolt of heat straight down to your core.  

his free hand slides lower, fingers trailing down your stomach, over your hip, and slipping beneath the waistband of your lace underwear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. he moves without hesitation, fingers seeking out the slick mess waiting for him, and the second he finds it, he lets out a low, rough groan against your skin.  

“god, you’re so fucking wet,” he mutters, pulling off your breast with a slick pop, his breath fanning across your skin. he glances down between your legs, his gaze so heavy you feel it like a touch. his eyes darken, his tongue darting out to wet his lips like he’s hungry just looking at you.  

he hooks his fingers into the sides of your underwear, dragging them down in one slow pull, eyes locked on you like he’s scared to blink and miss it. the fabric barely makes it past your knee before he’s already looking back up at you, his pupils blown wide, lips parted with the kind of need that makes your chest feel too tight.  

“let me eat you out,” he says, and his voice is rough and desperate.

you bite your lip like you’re thinking it over, but you know you’re going to say yes. you just like seeing him like this — all unsteady and breathless, too far gone to hide it.  

“please,” he says again, this time more ragged, his voice cracking at the end like he might actually lose it if you make him wait any longer.  

“okay,” you say, and it’s all he needs.  

he’s on you in a heartbeat, sliding down your body so fast it’s dizzying. his hands are firm on your thighs, pulling them apart, spreading you wide until there’s nowhere left to hide. his gaze flicks up one last time, meeting yours like he’s checking, like he’s giving you one last chance to stop him.  

but you don’t. you won’t.

he presses his fingers to your folds, parting you slowly, exposing everything to him, and the breath he takes is deep, like he’s savoring the moment before the fall.  

then he leans in.  

his nose brushes against you first, just a soft nudge that has your hips twitching on instinct. then his tongue follows in one long, slow drag from bottom to top that has your breath stuttering in your chest. his grip on your thighs tightens, fingers digging into your skin like he’s steadying himself as much as you.  

he moans against you, a deep, satisfied sound that you feel as much as hear, and his tongue dives back in, licking at you like you’re his favorite thing to taste. the movements are slow at first, deliberate, his tongue exploring every part of you like he’s trying to figure out exactly what makes you fall apart.  

and you are falling apart.  

your head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting as you let out a shaky, breathless moan. your hips twitch up, and his hands are right there to hold you down, keeping you still as his tongue moves with more certainty, more purpose, licking you with long, messy strokes that make you gasp.  

his mouth doesn’t slow, if anything, it grows more determined. his tongue moves with precision now, circling that sensitive spot before flicking against it in quick, teasing bursts that have your hips jumping despite his firm grip.  

“fuck, jaem—” your voice breaks on his name, your hands gripping the sides of the couch, searching for something, anything to ground yourself. but there’s nothing. nothing but him, his mouth, the obscene, wet sounds filling the air, and the heat building low in your stomach.

he groans again, the vibration shooting through you, his tongue flattening against you before he drags it up,

“taste so sweet,” he murmurs into you, his voice muffled, every word spoken straight into your skin. 

“could stay here all night.”

the heat in your belly twists tighter at that, something about the way he says it, like he means it, like he’d ruin himself for this… for you. you’re already too close, and he knows it. he can feel it in the way your thighs tense, in the way your breath catches and your hips press up into him like you’re chasing something you can’t quite reach.  

he hums in satisfaction, his lips wrapping around that sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking just once, just enough to make your whole body jolt.

“god, jaem, i’m—” you don’t even finish the sentence before it hits you, crashing over you in waves so intense you forget how to breathe. you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth falling open on a silent cry as the pleasure hits you all at once, white-hot and overwhelming. he doesn’t let up, his tongue flicking against you through it, coaxing every last tremor from your body.  

your fingers find his hair, tugging hard, half to ground yourself and half to make him stop because it’s all too much. he groans at the pull, but it only seems to spur him on, his hands tightening on your hips, keeping you pressed against his mouth.

“jaemin,” you say it firmer this time, tugging again, and finally, finally he pulls back, his lips and chin shiny with evidence of what he’s done.

“couldn’t help myself,” he says, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth like he’s savoring every last bit of you. his eyes are wild, pupils blown wide, his hair a mess from where you tugged at it.  

“you look so pretty when you cum,” he says, voice low and husky, and you hate the way your heart lurches in your chest as if he’s just said something sweet.  

“you’re crazy,” you mutter, still catching your breath, wiping the sweat from your forehead.  

“crazy for you,” he fires back, grin widening like he knows how corny it is and says it anyway.  

and for some reason, it makes you laugh. a soft, breathy thing you can’t hold back. 

in one smooth motion, he’s crawling back up your body, his hands framing your face as he settles his weight over you. his lips press to yours, soft at first, then deeper, hungrier. reminding you exactly where that mouth has just been. you taste yourself on him, and it sends a fresh wave of heat through you.  

“not done with you yet,”  he says against your lips, his hips pressing down against yours, and fuck, you feel how hard he is, the thick, solid pressure pressing right where you need it.  

“then don’t stop,” your fingers slide down his back, nails scraping lightly.

he flashed a wicked grin, and before you could process it, you let out a startled squeal as he hoisted you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. his arms were firm around your legs, his shoulder pressing into your stomach, and you could feel the strength in every stride as he carried you from the living room to his bedroom. 

"jaemin!" you protested, your fists lightly tapping his back, but it only made him chuckle.

"keep squirming, baby. see where that gets you," he teased.  

he laid you down on the bed with surprising gentleness. the cool, fresh scent of his sheets surrounded you, soft fabric meeting warm skin. it was a fleeting comfort, though. you both knew they wouldn’t stay this neat for long. 

jaemin peeled off his shirt with one smooth motion, revealing the sharp lines of his chest and the taut muscles of his stomach. you bit your lip as he kicked off his sweatpants, leaving him in just his boxers. his gaze was locked on you, dark eyes brimming with heat and amusement, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.  

you watched mesmerized as he pulled open the drawer of his nightstand, fingers searching until they found a small foil packet. he ripped it open with practiced ease, and when the condom rolled out into his palm, your eyes widened. 

"that’s not the right size," you blurted out, half-laughing. "no way."  

his eyebrows lifted, a challenge sparking in his eyes. "oh? wanna bet?" 

then his boxers hit the floor.  

oh.  

your breath caught in your throat as your eyes dropped, taking in the sight of his dick. heat flooded your face. what the hell.

“close your mouth, baby,” he said, smirking. “unless you’re planning to put it to use.”  

"shut up," you muttered, glancing away, cheeks blazing. "are you gonna do it or not?"  

“do what?” he asked innocently, even as he climbed onto the bed, caging you in with his body. he hovered just above you, his grin infuriatingly smug.  

“you know what.”  

“hmm. don’t think i do,” he murmured, eyes dropping to your lips. “wanna say it for me, pretty girl?”  

you pressed your lips together, heart thudding in your chest harder every second. you could feel the weight of him, his warmth, the tension that hung in the air like a live wire.  

“fuck… me, jaem,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper.  

he tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “louder, baby. i know you can be louder.”  

he wasn’t wrong. flashes of earlier moments filled your mind, the way you were moaning and whimpering definitely wasn’t quiet. you swallowed the last bit of your hesitation.  

“fuck me. please.”  

he hummed, satisfied, his grin softening as he hooked his hands behind your knees and tugged you down toward him. you let out a quiet gasp, suddenly flat on your back, with him positioned directly above you. his body hovered just close enough that every shift of movement made you feel him.  

your eyes flickered up to his face, and for a second, he wasn’t teasing anymore. his gaze was steady, searching, his eyes dark but kind. he reached out, fingertips tracing your jawline with such tenderness it made you ache in a different way.  

“you okay, baby?” he asked softly, letting you know he’d stop everything if you said no.  

your heart swelled at the care in his voice.  

you nodded, fingers curling around his shoulders.  

he leaned in, close enough for his breath to fan across your face. “need words, love.”  

“i’m okay, jaem,” you said more firmly, gazing up at him. 

his eyes lingered on yours a moment longer before he nodded. he took a pillow and carefully placed it behind your lower back 

"good girl," he murmured.  

he shifted, his hands steady on your hips, grounding you as he lined himself up. the anticipation coiled tightly in your stomach, a nervous, thrilling buzz. you felt him prodding at your entrance, he swiped his tip up and down, the action made you clench in anticipation. he eased in, inch by inch, the stretch stealing every ounce of air from your lungs.  

his head dropped, forehead pressed against yours, jaw tense as his eyes squeezed shut. a soft curse left his lips. “fuck, so… so tight,” he groaned, his voice wrecked. his fingers dug into your hips, holding you still.

the moans spilling from your lips mixed with his name, coming out soft and unrestrained. every inch of him felt like too much, the kind of stretch that made your breath catch and your nails press into his shoulders. it had been so long since you'd had sex that you'd almost forgotten what it felt like, and even back then, no one had ever filled you like this. jaemin was thicker, longer, and the difference was impossible to ignore. 

"baby, if you keep squeezing me like that…" he laughed breathlessly, his fingers drawing slow, steady circles on your hip like he was trying to soothe you. “i might not make it all the way in.” 

“s’rry, you’re… just too big,” you muttered, voice coming out more wrecked than you intended. 

he bit down on his lip, eyes flicking down to where you were connected. the sight alone was about to undo him. "yeah?" he breathed, a little too satisfied with himself. his hand slid up, fingers pressing into your waist just a bit harder, grounding you in place as he pushed in deeper. 

the pressure was overwhelming, every slow inch making you feel like you might fall apart right there beneath him. and the deeper he went, the more you swore you wouldn’t last long. the tight, aching pull in your stomach was already coiling up, twisting tighter with every second.  

“you okay?” his voice was softer this time, the restraint obvious in how still he stayed once he’d finally bottomed out. his forehead pressed lightly to yours, lips hovering just close enough to brush your skin.  

“mhm,” you nodded quickly, legs shaking around him. 

“words, baby,” he said, and his fingers tilted your chin so you’d look at him. 

“i’m okay, jaem. just…just move, please,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.  

"since you asked so nicely," he said with a grin that was all teeth and trouble. his hands gripped your thighs, pulling them higher against his sides. his hips pulled back, just enough for you to feel every inch of him drag out slowly, before he pushed back in.

the breath punched out of you. you didn’t even have time to recover before he was doing it again, sharper, testing just how much you could handle. 

"god, you’re taking me so well, princess," he groaned, eyes flicking down to where your bodies connected. his hands slid up your sides, the warmth of his touch a sharp contrast to the way he was slamming into you. "like you were made for me." 

“jaem-” his name was the only thing you could manage, high-pitched and broken. your head tipped back against the pillows, eyes squeezing shut, but that only made everything feel sharper. 

“what's that?” he asked, voice rough as he leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over the corner of your mouth. "love it this much, huh?" 

you didn’t answer, didn’t need to. he could hear it in every shaky breath, feel it in the way your body reacted to him. 

his mouth was on yours a second later, messy and hot, his teeth dragging over your bottom lip before his tongue slid past it. he didn’t kiss you so much as claim you, taking everything you gave and then some. your fingers knotted in his hair, desperate for something to hold on to. the sounds between you were wet, frantic, each one making the coil in your stomach twist tighter. 

you were close… so, so close.

 but then he pulled away again, leaving you gasping at the sudden loss. before you could even think to complain, he grabbed your hips, flipping you over like it was nothing. your cheek pressed into the pillow, hips lifted, and you barely had a second to brace yourself before he was back inside you.

the first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs. it was deeper now, sharper, because he’d found a whole new spot to ruin you from. your fingers dug into the pillow, muffling the sounds spilling from your mouth, but even that wasn’t enough. the angle had you seeing stars, the kind of pressure that made your legs shake with every thrust. 

“feel that?” his voice was right at your ear, low and rough. “feels different, doesn’t it?” 

you nodded frantically, too gone to answer, but that wasn’t good enough for him. his hand slipped up, tangling in your hair, gently tugging you up just enough so he could hear you.  

“talk to me, baby.” his voice was a rasp now, barely hanging on. "tell me how it feels." 

“s’good…so good, jaem,” you gasped, words rushed and jumbled but still clear enough. "i’m- i’m gonna…”  

“go ahead, baby," he said, lips brushing against your ear before he bit down softly on your earlobe, making you jolt. "want you to cum for me." 

your whole body shuddered as the release crashed into you, slow and unrelenting, like a wave that just wouldn’t let up. it didn’t hit and fade away like usual — it lingered, making your muscles seize and tremble with every pulse. you felt boneless, your limbs heavy as you sagged against the bed, head turned to the side, cheek pressed into the pillow. jaemin stayed inside you, his grip on your hips loosening just slightly but his eyes stayed locked on you, dark and intent. you could feel him watching every little twitch of your body. 

“look at you,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “so pretty like this.” 

he eased out of you slowly, and the emptiness that followed had you sucking in a sharp breath. your thighs shook as you tried to press them together, but his were still on you, thumb brushing softly along your inner thighs admiring how your cum slid down your dripping core. 

you glanced down, lips parting at the sight. his cock was flushed, standing firm against his stomach, the condom showing nothing but a hint of precum mixed with the mess you’d left behind. a slow heat pooled in your belly again, your body already responding before your mind could catch up.  

“you didn’t—” you started, but the words dissolved in your throat, eyes flickering back up to meet his.  

you didn’t wait for him to say anything. your hand shot out, fingers curling around his wrist, and you tugged him forward. he followed easily, letting you pull him in close, his lips already parting like he was expecting a kiss. but just as he leaned in, you braced a hand on his chest and shoved him down flat on his back. 

“oh?” he breathed out a soft, surprised laugh, his eyes widening as his head hit the pillow. “what’s this, huh?”  

“shh,” you muttered, climbing over him, one leg swinging over his hips until you were straddling him. your palms flattened on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your hands. 

“bossy now, are we?” his grin stretched wider, his hands sliding up your thighs with a slow, deliberate touch. he squeezed just above your knees, fingertips pressing into your skin.  

“quiet,” you said leaning forward, your breath warm against his ear. “thought you’d like a girl who takes charge.” 

his head tipped back with a breathy laugh. “oh, i do,” he said, voice trailing off into a low hum as his eyes dipped to where your hips hovered just above him. “but i like it even more when she can keep up.” 

the corner of your mouth tugged up into a grin. “we’ll see,” you muttered, reaching between your bodies to wrap your hand around him. he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his whole body going rigid beneath you. even with just the faintest pressure of your hand, you could feel him twitch, his hips bucking up slightly. 

“s-sensitive,” he hissed, jaw tightening as he pressed his head back into the pillow. but he didn’t stop you, didn’t even try. if anything, his fingers dug harder into your thighs, holding you steady like he was afraid you’d pull away. 

“thought you could keep up,” you shot back, glancing up at him. his brows furrowed, his eyes squeezing shut for a second before they flickered back open. the teasing look on his face was gone now, replaced with something hungrier, more focused.  

you lined him up with you, heart thudding hard against your ribs. you’d done this before, but it felt different now… the weight of his eyes on you, the way his hands gripped you just a little tighter as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. the stretch was slow, inch by inch until you felt him fill you completely. 

“f-f—” his curse broke off into a low groan, his chest rising sharply as his hands slid up to your waist. “god, you’re—” he didn’t finish. couldn’t finish. his eyes screwed shut, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip so hard you thought he might draw blood.  

you braced your hands on his chest, fingers curling just slightly as you adjusted to the feeling. the heat in your core burned brighter, the ache of it twisting into something sharper, more desperate. you shifted your hips just a little, testing it, and the friction hit you so perfectly you gasped, nails digging into his chest.  

“you okay?” his voice was strained, barely more than a whisper, but there was a thread of concern woven through it. his eyes cracked open, heavy-lidded but focused on you.  

“mhm,” you nodded, breathless as you lifted your hips slowly, feeling every inch of him slide out before sinking back down just as slow. his head tipped back, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard, a low groan rattling from his chest. 

“yeah, just like that,” he muttered, his grip on you loosening as he let you set the pace. “take your time, pretty girl.” his words slurred just a little, as if he wasn’t fully in control of them anymore. “feels so…” his breath hitched, head tilting back against the pillow. 

his hands never stopped moving, though. they roamed up your waist, across your ribs until they found your boobs, they played there for a minute before sliding down to grip your thighs again. every time you dropped your hips, you watched the way his face twisted — brows pulling together, lips parting, his eyes half-lidded and glassy. his fingers twitched, his grip faltering like he wanted to touch you everywhere at once. 

“harder,” he breathed, his voice so quiet you almost missed it. his eyes flicked up to yours, gaze locked, lips parted and shiny with spit. “don’t hold back.”  

you bit your lip, grinning through the burn in your legs as you shifted your pace and started going faster. the sound of it echoed in the room and you felt the warmth building low in your belly again, tighter and tighter with every roll of your hips. 

“y-yeah, just like that,” he gasped, voice cracking, his eyes fluttering shut again. he pressed his head back, the veins on his neck on full display, and you watched the way his adam’s apple bobbed with every uneven breath. his hands slid to your hips, guiding you in sync with his shallow thrusts upward. the movement was messy, desperate, his body seeking more even as he tried to hold on.  

“gonna—” he bit out, breath hitching sharply. his eyes flew open, wild and unfocused as he stared at you like he wasn’t even sure what he was about to say. “gonna— oh, fuck—” 

“yeah?” you gasped, leaning forward, your hands braced against his chest, fingers curling into his skin. “feels good, hm?” 

he didn’t answer with words. he answered with his body, hips snapping up to meet yours, his fingers dragging down your back, hard enough to leave little streaks of heat in their wake. his breathing grew choppy, his body locking up beneath you as his grip on your waist turned bruising. 

“don’t stop,” he panted, his voice rough, broken. “don’t— oh, fuck.” 

you didn’t. not until you felt every last bit of him give in. his whole body went taut, muscles straining beneath you, his grip locking you in place as he let himself go. he groaned so deeply it sounded more like a growl, his breath hot against your neck as he pulled you down to him, holding you close.

“what’s the verdict, doctor?” you asked, tracing circles on his chest, still sat on top of him.  

“hm,” he hummed with his eyes still closed, lips tugging up at the corners as if he was fighting off a grin. “patient shows signs of extreme confidence. possible cause: being too good at driving me crazy.”  

you snorted, tilting your head to look at him. “is that your professional diagnosis?”  

“oh, absolutely,” he said, cracking one eye open to meet yours. “might need to run some more tests, though. you know, for accuracy.”  

“yeah?” you leaned in, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “what kind of tests, doctor?”  

his hands slid up your back, fingers splayed wide as they pressed you closer. “thorough ones,” he muttered, his voice rasping against your ear. “real hands-on approach.”  

“sounds serious,” you teased, letting your nails drag lightly down his chest. “hope your credentials check out.”  

“i’m overqualified, baby,” he breathed, tipping his head back against the pillow with a lazy grin. “let me show you.”

part two

my inbox is always open for any comments about the fic!! thank you<3

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Ｇｉｒｌ Ｕｎｄｅｒ Ｙｏｕ ♡

♡ Pairings: gynecologist!seonghwa! x chubby!afab!reader

♡ Genre: smut/fluff

♡ Summary: Scheduling your yearly check up with your OBGYN can be nerve-wracking. Especially when your doctor's Park Seonghwa. Finally getting up the courage to visit, you do all you can to conceal the not so appropriate feelings you have towards him. Not only is it inappropriate but he surely doesn't feel the same. Right?

♡ Word Count: 3.2k-ish

♡ Warnings: reader has a vagina and identifies as a woman. we're at the OBGYN so this is ultra vagina city. pervy Dr. Park Seonghwa, you too are a perv tbh it's mutual, shy/touch starved reader, body worship, nipple/breast play, fingering (gentle & rough), unprotected sex, cum marking, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, baby, etc), a lil rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), nonsexual use of the word slut (not in a bad way), it gets bitey for a second, examination kink, soft dom Hwa vibes.

♡ A/N: Listen, I can explain. It's all on @anyamaris for encouraging me to begin with. Blame her!

Important note: If you have a vagina go get it checked out regularly. Your doctor will certainly not be Seonghwa dicking you down BUT it's an important and sometimes life saving appointment sooo make it or I'll fight you. K, love you, bye ♡

♡ ♡ ♡ “I wanna be that guy. I'll wreck you right up, guy. I'll lie down face up, guy. The girl under you, guy.” ~ Lady Gaga ~ ♡♡ ♡

���Date of your last period? Any abnormal cramping or bleeding? Any chance of pregnancy?” the nurse fires off questions, tapping your answers into the laptop balanced on her hip.

Sitting on the exam table, your feet dangling off the edge, you try not to get whiplash from how quickly she whirls around the room loading a tray with supplies for your exam. The office is unexpectedly short staffed today, forcing her to play the role of nurse and human octopus. You understand how overwhelmed she must be but pray that she stops soon. Your anxiety was already bad enough coming in here. This nervous energy is not helping. 

“Last question, honey” she says, turning to face you, “Oh, have you been sexually active recently?” She cracks a playful smile, clearly expecting your answer to be something that it isn’t.

“No” you mumble, avoiding eye contact. Look at how shiny those tile floors are. Has this exam table always been this cushy? Such a marvelous generic art print that is hanging by the door.

The nurse’s eyes widen, a hand clutched to her chest in shock, “You went to Coachella and didn’t get laid?” 

“Nurse Kim! Can we not today?” you pout, in no mood to have this conversation right now. 

Being a longtime patient here has a lot of perks. Getting closer to the nurses especially has been great for you. I mean, who doesn’t like getting the appointment slot they want every single time? But the drawback is that they like you enough to pick on you. Maybe it’s their way of breaking you out of your shell, getting you to be less shy, but you wish they wouldn’t. 

Nurse Kim shrugs, miming the zipping of her lips, “Okay, okay. I’ll mind my business.” Placing the supplies on the table, she grabs you a fresh hospital blue medical gown. “You know the deal, right? No shoes, no bra…” 

You nod along with her instructions, hopping down to kick your sneakers off. Finally she finishes and heads for the door to give you some privacy. “The doctor will be in shortly. Let me know if you need anything” she says, stopping halfway out the door. “You really didn’t bang anyone at Coachella. Wow. Girl, you’ve got to learn to live a little. You’re too hot not to slut it up!” 

“Thank you so much for everything. Goodbye. Bye!” you laugh, inching the door shut until she’s on the other side of it. 

Alone at last, you’re able to get out of your clothes and into your gown in peace and quiet. Well, “peace” might not be the word to describe what you’re feeling but at least you’re able to panic in silence. 

You really shouldn’t be as nervous as you are. You’ve been coming to this office for years. Everyone’s kind and welcoming. They always make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of. There’s definitely no part of you they haven’t seen so you have nothing to be ashamed of. Still there’s one thing—one major, heart pounding, pulse quickening thing—that makes you too nervous to function every time you’re here.

Your phone vibrates in your purse and you contemplate not answering but dig it out anyway figuring a little distraction can’t hurt. Unlocking your phone, you spot a text from your best friend. 

It reads: “Did you see Hot Doctor yet?” 

You giggle to yourself, typing back to her. “His name’s Seonghwa and not yet. Still waiting.”

“On a first name basis are we? Seonghwa. That’s even hot to say.”

“Dr. Park, I mean. His name is hot to say though. He’s hot. I fucking hate it.”

“Just give him your number already!”

“Sure. While he’s swabbing me I’ll be all ‘Hey, Dr. Park. Wanna go to lunch?’”

Your best friend responds with a meme of Megan thee Stallion sticking her tongue out. “Plot twist. The lunch is between my legs, daddy!”

You’re choking back laughter and tears, scrolling your phone for the perfect meme to send back when there’s a knock at the door. You nearly jump out of your skin, shoving your phone back into your purse. 

“Come in!” you shout, returning to the exam table just in time for the doctor to step in.

Everything moves in slow motion when Park Seonghwa enters the room. Ahem, Dr. Park. He is, as you and your best friend have come to call him, a hot doctor. The hottest doctor you’ve ever seen. His dark wavy hair’s pulled back into a high ponytail, loose pieces hanging to frame a face too gorgeous to look directly at. His bone structure’s immaculate, his lips soft and pink, and his voice… 

“Long time no see. How’s my favorite patient been?” he says, flashing that killer smile of his. That voice. That smile. It makes you want to faint. 

You laugh it off, hoping not to come off as flustered as you are. “Dr. Park, I’m not your favorite patient.”

Seonghwa takes a seat on a nearby rolling stool and spins his way over to you, making a cute woo noise when he does. It gets a giggle out of you which is exactly what he wanted. 

“Who says you aren’t?” he asks, sliding in closer, his hands disappearing behind your legs.

It’s hard to breathe when he’s this close, staring up at you from between your legs. The smell of his cologne dances around you, a sweet woodsy scent that you imagine might smell even better on top of you. Just the thought awakens a familiar tingle between your thighs that threatens to make you wet the crinkly paper blanket beneath you if you carry on like this. You know that you shouldn’t feel this way. He’s a doctor. He’s just doing his job. And here you are perving over him. 

“Dr. Park, anything else you need me to grab?” Nurse Kim asks, popping back into the room. Her appearance snaps you out of your trance and you force a smile to keep things normal. If you weren’t brain rotted and horny you'd swear Seonghwa had been reading your reaction that whole time. That he saw the effect he had on you and seemed somehow amused by it. But that’s factually insane. Get it together. 

The foot rests behind your legs, the reason Seonghwa reached back there to begin with, unfold with a creak. “No, I think we’re good” he answers before turning back to you, “Lay back for me and put your feet up. We’ll be done in no time, okay?” You follow his instructions, laying back on the table, readjusting yourself however he asks you to.

Closing your eyes, you rest your hands on your belly, impatiently waiting for this to be over. Though Seonghwa’s interest in what’s between your legs is purely medical, the fact remains that you hope he doesn’t find it ugly. You shaved for this, used this nice pH balancing rose water soap on it. You did everything but put makeup on it and throw it in a dress. You feel kinda silly now thinking back on it but your brain isn’t exactly logical when it comes to him. 

A few cranks of a speculum and cotton swabs later you’re done with the first part of your exam. “Good girl, you did well. The hardest part’s over” he praises, swapping his latex gloves out for a new pair. Your heart skips a beat at being called a “good girl”. He didn’t mean it that way but your body can’t differentiate between reality and how devastatingly sexy that was. Seonghwa turns to address the nurse and you quickly press your thighs together for some relief.

“I’ll send these off and go set up for the next patient” Nurse Kim says, grabbing your samples. She turns to smile at you one last time before disappearing from the room. “Remember what I said” she whispers, “Slut. It. Up.” Unfortunately, of all the things she’s skilled at whispering isn’t one of them and Seonghwa hears her.

Rising from his seat, he walks alongside you, stopping when he reaches your chest. “Just lower your gown for me for a second.”

You do as you’re told, carefully rolling your gown below your breasts. “So, slut it up, huh? What’s that about?” he teases, cold hands cupping one of your soft breasts. You inhale sharply at the contact, a thankfully normal reaction to cold hands touching you. Though for you it’s more that they’re his hands than anything.

“She thinks I need to get laid” you blurt out, caught off guard by your own bluntness.

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow, his fingertips pushing gently into your breast. “I’ll have to talk to her about that. She shouldn’t be judging people for their life choices.”

“I mean, it’s not really a life choice. I’m just not…I’m not a girl who…” you ramble, shutting yourself up immediately after realizing what you’re saying. Seonghwa pauses, glancing over at you, two fingers circling the perimeter of your nipple. It stiffens at the closeness, your touch starved body grateful for the attention. 

“Not a girl who what?” Seonghwa asks, genuinely interested.

It doesn’t seem that he’ll keep going if you don’t answer so you give in. “I don’t know, guys just don’t hit on me I guess. I’m not that girl.”

Seonghwa continues his examination, flattening his fingers at the base of your breast and dragging them up to your nipple. They bounce back each time, looking rounder and fuller as if he’s worked some magic on them.

“I don’t think that’s necessarily it” he sighs, moving on to the other breast, “A lot of men are intimidated by beautiful women.” 

Beautiful women? Did Park Seonghwa just call you a “beautiful woman”?

“B-beautiful?” you stutter, at a loss for what to do with yourself, “That’s really nice of you but I’m not…”

Seonghwa can’t help but smile at how adorable you are when he compliments you. You’re as good at concealing it as Nurse Kim is at whispering. Seonghwa knows that you’re attracted to him. To be fair, a lot of his patients are, but you are truthfully his favorite. Always so beautiful, always so easy to tease, and such a pretty pretty pussy that’s always wet for him. 

“But you are” he insists, both hands cradling your breast, thumbs running up the side, “You must have a mirror at home, no?” 

“Dr. Park, are you trying to make me blush?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows. 

The pads of his thumbs graze your hardening nipple and your back arches, a whimper lighter than air escaping your lips. You catch Seonghwa quickly nibbling at his bottom lip, his eyes glimmering at the shock and pleasure painting your face. You caught him. You saw it this time. Really saw it. 

Seonghwa knows he should stop here, end the examination, and send you on your way before he does something stupid. It’s just…that little moan you let out? It’s a melody he’s been fantasizing about since the first time you laid across his table. He has to hear it again.

“I don’t know. Is it, aaah…” he breathes in, one of his thumbs circling the tip of your bud, “Is it working?” 

Slipping his left hand back across your chest, he palms your other breast, pinching your sensitive nipple each time he rolls his wrist.

“Yes, it…oh god…it’s working” you mewl, your mouth falling open, moans pouring out at the perfect volume for only the two of you to hear.

Your feet tremble in the foot rests, your legs still spread to leave your dripping, vulnerable pussy exposed to the cool air of the room. Hypnotized by the sight of Seonghwa playing with your tits, high off the electric current it sends through your body, it’s easy to forget that you actually came here for a reason. 

“I should probably finish your exam” Seonghwa whispers, doing his best to ignore the hard cock pressing against his slacks. Your body may be tempting but it is technically his job to make sure you’re healthy too. His hands gradually cease their movement, gliding down to do away with the gown that was hardly hiding to your naked body.

“Fuck, look at you” he gasps, massaging your squishy belly, tracing your love handles, and rounding the curve of your hip to reach your thigh. His fingers dig into your thigh, savoring their softness all the way up to your core.

His gaze travels back up your body to those starry doe eyes that hang on his every move, “Think I’ll need the lube or are you already wet enough for me, baby?”

Seonghwa rubs two fingers along your slit, collecting your arousal on the tip of his glove. He brings them to his mouth, extending his long tongue to lick your juices up.

“Mmm, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you” he hums, taking his time to enjoy the taste of you on his tongue. 

“Dr. Park, please…” you beg, thighs pressing together again, the need for his touch unbearable. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart” he apologizes, his fingers immediately returning to their place between your legs. “You want me to finger that perfect little cunt?” 

“Yes, please, I want…need it so bad.” 

Seonghwa brings his lips to yours, your eyes gleaming with lust as they meet, “You need it, baby? That bad, huh?” 

Two gloved fingers push into you, your pussy welcoming them with the tightest of hugs. “Fuck, yes, so good” you whine into his mouth as you begin to ride his fingers. Seonghwa dips his tongue between your lips, your mouths passionately crashing together. You grab the collar of his white coat, drawing him closer to deepen the kiss as his fingers work your core. Inside of you his fingers stimulate spots men who aren’t in his line of work wouldn’t even know existed. Some you didn’t even know could bring you such pleasure until now.

Your eyes squeeze shut, elbows giving out from under you, “Harder, Dr. Park, wanna feel you so deep.” 

Seonghwa catches your head before it can hit the cushion beneath you, lowering it down carefully as he draws another kiss from your lips. “Only if you promise to be a good girl and be quiet for me.” 

“I p-promise. Quiet. I’ll be…” you moan, throwing your hands over your mouth when he suddenly picks up the pace. Shifting between your legs, he tucks a hand behind your right knee and pushes it to your chest. Your palms are sweating, fingers locked together to keep you from screaming. Seonghwa’s fingers are much deeper than you thought they could go and his pace is too unforgiving for you to brace yourself for any of it.

“Ssh, ssh, you’re getting too loud, baby” he teases, coming in to kiss your inner thigh. Your juices stream down his fingers, soaking the thin paper beneath you. Hating to waste something so delicious, he begins licking around his own fingers. Between your lips. Around your clit. Anywhere his fingers send it splashing, he licks it clean. 

Your hands begin to slip from your mouth, your poor wrecked little body going too limp to keep it together. Thinking quickly, you bite down on your hand just enough to keep the noise in but you aren’t sure how long it’ll last. You’re dangerously close to coming. You can feel it and Seonghwa does too. Your hole’s so greedy, sucking him in and refusing to let go. It’s just begging to come but he won’t let it. Not like this at least.

Reaching down, he blindly fumbles around with his pants until he feels his cock spring free. He groans into your pussy as he closes his hand around his cock, rocking in and out of his own grip.

“Dr. Park, I’m gonna, mmph, aaah, fuck…gonna come” you squeal, hips stuttering against his face.

“Fuck, yes, come for me, sweetheart” he grins, rimming the head of his cock with his thumb, “You wanna come on my cock?” 

Seonghwa’s proposal has you biting down on your hand hard enough to leave a mark. “Oh god, yes, fuck me please. Fuck me, Seonghwa.”

Popping his fingers free, he grabs you by your legs and drags you down until your ass hangs off of the table. “Seonghwa!” you cry out, eyes rolling back as he thrusts into you. That stretch. That one exhilarating, earth shattering stretch, is all it takes to ruin you.

“Mmm, that’s it, come baby. Give it to me” he moans, hips snapping into your fluttering core. You expect, like any other orgasm, for your high to fade after the initial peak but it doesn’t. You’re still there. And your body’s giving out. You brain’s going hazy. You can’t take it but you want to even if it makes you go crazy. 

Seonghwa’s eyes never leave your pretty face, never stop eating up how hot you are when you’re at his mercy. The sensation of his own high crashing down on him has him pushing your thighs together, the thickness of them making your pussy feel twice as tight around him.

“So fucking tight, shit, you’re gonna make me come. Where do you want it?” 

“I, ooh, I want it…want.” The words are there but you struggle so very hard to find them. You dig deep, collecting the strength needed to run your hand down your belly and spread your folds for him. Your voice is so cute and broken when you say, “On me.”

Seonghwa folds immediately, pulling out to coat your clit in the thick warmth spilling from his cock. Stopping to catch his breath, he leaves it there resting against your clit. Both of you twitching together, his seed dripping down your pussy so that no part of you isn’t marked by him. 

“Don’t clean it off” he instructs, kissing down your leg as he places your feet back in the foot rests, “Leave it so you’ll think of me when you’re driving home.” 

Easing your fingers from between your folds, you pop them into your mouth, sucking them like a lollipop. “Anything else, Dr. Park?” 

Seonghwa zips his pants up, searching his brain for any other pressing information. “That depends, are you free tonight?” 

“Hmm, let me think” you muse, staring off into space for dramatic effect. “I can be. That depends on what you had in mind.”

“Well, I was thinking I could pick you up for dinner and then…” He blows you a kiss that communicates his plan wonderfully, “Dinner.” 

You giggle, your sweet little crush on him more severe than ever, “Sure, I’d like that but, hold on, you don’t know where I live.” 

Seonghwa takes his gloves off, tossing them in the trash can by the door. “You’re my patient, remember? I literally have all of your personal information.”

“Isn’t that, like, a violation of patient privacy or something?” 

Seonghwa laughs off your comment, walking over to sneak in a goodbye kiss. “I’ve already violated your privacy once today, sweetheart. Can't hurt to do it again”

[ifishouldvanish]

Fashion and Power; Hair and Identity: An Analysis of Olrox in Castlevania Nocturne

So. I've been thinking a lot lately about Olrox's design and how he dresses.

Like we have Drolta who is serving cunt in a totally different, usually wildly anachronistic, outfit every other scene... And we have Alucard still wearing the same tattered, moth-eaten overcoat he was sporting 300 years ago...

And then we have Olrox, whose outfit is very much in keeping with the style we see worn by our model french nobleman, the Marquis:

You can see the similarities between their looks: the stockings and shoes, the cravat, the tall collar, the pleats, the contrasting trims and accents, the highlights that suggest the fabric has a silken/satin sheen.

...But for his first appearance in Boston, he's wearing something similar—but not so flashy. Which makes sense, because a lot of the above details would be too ostentatious for colonial sensibilities and just not as accessible there. His Boston look is very clearly in the same style as Julia's outfit:

The boots with the dramatic cuffs, the wide lapels, the longer coat, the way the trims and accents are much more subtle, and the lack of that satin sheen we see in the French outfits.

I point this stuff out because it tells us that not only does Olrox dress well, but he dresses according to what is in fashion around him. He's not like Drolta, expressing himself by wearing whatever the fuck he wants—nor is he like Alucard, still dressing the way a past version of himself once did, existing sort of outside of time. That Olrox has two subtly different outfits in the span of ten years seems to indicate that this is a man who speaks the language of fashion, who understands the role it plays in society, and how it is used to assert power for oneself in the right contexts.

I've seen the take a few times of like, "Olrox is probably itching to take off those stuffy white people clothes" or whatever and... I can't say that I agree. I get the sense that he enjoys not just wearing fine clothes, but dressing in a way that signals to the people around him: "Do not presume that you are better than me". It serves as a form of armor, a safety blanket, a way to protect himself and assert the power he fears he will be denied otherwise.

I've said this before but like... his dialogue in his scenes with Drolta and Erzsebet is positively laden with these sort of subtle, calculated assertions or denials of power. From the moment he first arrives in Machecoul, he refuses Vaublanc's escort, thus refusing to engage on the terms they are trying to set for his visit: you are not my host, I am not dependent on you, I am here acting on my own interests and not to answer to your beck and call. He speaks carefully, politely, and hides his true feelings behind a façade of respectability. Saying all the things they want to hear, but wearing none of it on his face, in his eyes, in his tone of voice. He's playing a part, playing the game, and playing it well—all the while hiding his true intentions and dodging questions he doesn't want to answer.

That Olrox is such a careful, eloquent speaker can be read as a quintessentially 'Aztec' thing: the Nahuatl language is very full of metaphor, the nobility spoke a different dialect that distinguished them from the rest of society, and the ability to speak beautifully and wisely is something that was regarded very highly. Furthermore, the words we have on record that Motēuczōmah Xocoyotzin said to Cortés and that the Spanish would later use to claim the Mexica thought Cortés was a god, were probably more like... sarcasm. You've heard of malicious compliance; the Mexica were apparently fond of malicious politeness: over the top flattery meant to mock rather than praise. Which is exactly the vibe Olrox gives off in his exchanges with Erzsebet. ("Yes, charmed to meet you", "Flattered, for a god to have heard of me," "As you well know, I both admire and worship you, goddess," etc.)

I think his manner of dress functions as an extension of this.

While Olrox's clothing bears like, zero resemblance whatsoever to how men styled themselves in the Mexica empire (Fantastic references by Daniel Parada on ArtStation), the Mexica did have strict sumptuary laws about which classes of people could wear which types of clothes/colors/fabrics/jewelry/hairstyles. Maybe he was a commoner who had to wear clothes out of rough maguey fiber and never wants to go back to that. Maybe he was nobility and this is a mentality that he has clung to. Either way, fashion as a language of status, power, and control is something Olrox would understand intimately.

Consider Drolta for a moment: in retrospect, the fact that she has so many outfits and wears whatever she wants to the point of outshining Erzsebet in every scene she's in, was a strong indicator that she was the one with the real power, the one pulling the strings all along.

And here creates a stark contrast: Drolta who asserts her power by dressing in a way that expresses herself in her own visual language, vs Olrox, who is asserting his power in the visual language of his oppressors. Even in Drolta's more conservative outfits, there are a lot of details that are undeniably her own spin on the style; she's playing with these conventions rather than conforming to them. She does not have to play the game and follow the rules in the same way that Olrox does.

So now let's address the elephant in the room:

Olrox's hairstyle is... not at all accurate to how men were wearing their hair in pre-colonial mesoamerica, which was either a sort of shoulder-length bowl cut, shorn on the sides, or long but matted and tied back. (More fantastic references by the same artist on ArtStation) But unlike his clothing, it's also not a style that would be considered fashionable to the European upper class.

I've seen plenty of people theorize that it's meant to resemble a style that would have been appropriate for Mahican men at the time—a way to pay homage to the man he loved. But I don't really think this is the case. For most tribes in the northeast, men either traditionally wear two braids, or in times of war, a 'roach' or 'mohawk' hairstyle: with most of the head shaved except for a single lock, which might be adorned with feathers, beads, and so on. At most, Olrox's single braid could maybe be a nod to this, but not the hairstyle as a whole.

Honestly, I struggle to find any tribes whose men traditionally wear their hair loose, and I'm sure half of this design choice was just the animation team trying to give him some likeness to his voice actor. Zahn McClarnon, who is Hunkpapa-Lakota, often wears his long hair loose—though this hairstyle isn't necessarily characteristic to the Lakota either, who also traditionally wear their hair in 2-3 braids (and which to be fair McClarnon also wears often). The other half of this design choice I'm sure lies in the fact that loose hair lends more flexibility for animators to use it expressively in-frame.

Regardless, any piece of media is in conversation with a contemporary audience. Nowadays, it's pretty common for indigenous men from various cultural traditions to sport long, loose hair. And there's a reason for this: regardless of the specific beliefs and practices around hair from one tribe to another, hair has become a strong marker of cultural identity for the larger, pan- indigenous community, as the forced assimilation of indigenous people often manifested as the cutting off of indigenous men's hair in boarding schools. In this context, to grow out one's hair can be a way of reclaiming a part of their identity which has long been forcibly taken from them.

So... the cultural/historical inaccuracy of Olrox's particular hairstyle aside, we can still look at the significance of hair itself in a broader sense: Hair is important to his character.

I look all the shots we get of Olrox's hair, the way it is used in the frame, used so expressively, and it feels like... yeah. His hair is the piece of himself he refuses to let go of. The clothes can change, he can bow down to Bàthory, get branded, etc. But his hair is an inextricable part of him. In this context, his hair becomes his identity, this stand-in for his true self when all the rest of him (clothes, speech, etc) are functioning instead as a sort of social camouflage.

We normally see Olrox's hair neatly swept behind his shoulders, often with a few strands framing the side of his face. But we get a couple of scenes where this isn't the case:

The first time we get a shot of Olrox's hair kinda spread out and disheveled outside of motion scenes is the cut to him and Mizrak lying in bed after having had sex. Paired with the askew angle of his body contrasted against Mizrak's rigid body, Olrox's hair suggests that he is in a vulnerable state, that he has let his guard down if not physically, then emotionally. He has "let his hair down" and already caught some kind of feelings for Mizrak—while Mizrak spends this scene putting up a giant brick wall.

The majority of Olrox's hair here is also to his left—away from Mizrak. While Olrox has given up some measure of power here, he doesn't need Mizrak to know that yet. He turns his head to see what Mizrak is doing, and receives a clear message: Mizrak is not ready to give up any power or control. Not ready to be vulnerable with him. And so Olrox takes this cue to sit up and let his hair return to its usual, neatly gathered position—thus putting back up a kind of wall of his own as he tries to coax some honesty out of Mizrak through more deliberate means.

In the S1 finale, we see Olrox's hair cover his face just as Machecoul falls to Erzsebet and becomes enshrouded in shadows. One Nahuatl expression, "Axcan mixtlapachmana yn tonatíuh" translates to, "Today the sun has covered its face." This is an expression of grief over the death of a leader or elder, the fall of a city, or the loss of a tradition. Despite the stoicism on his face in this moment, Olrox's hair tells us how he really feels. Something has been lost, and despite the fact that he probably expected it—despite the fact that he has been here before—he is still grieving that loss.

During the S2 branding scene, we see Olrox get on one knee and bow to Erzsebet—thus arriving at the inevitable conclusion of the game he's been playing all season. In his effort to survive by playing along, conceding his pride, his ego, his integrity, his self—he still finds himself trapped. As he accepts his fate, his hair fails over his face in a pattern that resembles the bars of a cage or prison cell. (Interestingly, his dialogue before this is "What did he do?", which makes this whole scene echo his "what crime did you commit?" scene with an imprisoned Edouard in the catacombs back in S1)

In S1, we also got a scene where Olrox bows to Erzsebet, but it's very different from this one. He never gets on his knee, and his hair remains neatly draped over his shoulders. He's conceding a little bit of power, but it's a strategic thing he ultimately does with some degree of willingness. In the S2 bow however, it is because he recognizes he is cornered and no longer has any moves left to make.

In S2E6, we see Olrox waiting at the harbor, preparing to leave to return to the New World. In the previous episode, he asks Mizrak to come with him—who refuses on the grounds that they would spend their lives hiding from Erzsebet. I'm sure @mysteryanimator could write an essay about the framing in this scene and how it makes it so that Olrox is boxed in and can't leave—but his hair is flowing freely. He doesn't have to leave. He has always had a choice: the choice to stay and to fight, and to win true freedom—not just a life on the run, or the sort of double life of having to carefully navigate the social world of others and keep his true self hidden in order to survive.

Now, in the S2 finale, Olrox turns a dying Mizrak into a vampire—but they have an interesting conversation leading up to that moment, and for just about the entirety of this conversation, Olrox's hair is obscuring his face. There is something he is hiding from Mizrak in this scene, something keeping them apart and keeping this conversation from being an open and totally honest one. I've written about what I think this scene foretells, and @mysteryanimator has also done a really thorough shot-for-shot analysis about the visual storytelling happening here, which also touches on the role Olrox's hair plays in this scene.

After Olrox turns Mizrak, we see him lying in bed with his shirt open, exposing his chest and bisecting his heart. The Nahuatl "Omeyolloa" translates to "two hearts", or "the heart is split in two", and refers to an internal conflict. But Olrox's hair is splayed out around him, adding to the sense of vulnerability and being laid bare. While Olrox's hands are folded in his lap with apprehension or restraint, his hair seems to reach in Mizrak's direction in their stead. The hair gives voice to the half of his heart that cares about Mizrak and wants to reach out to him, while the rest is immobilized by the guilt or remorse over what he had to do to keep him.

I've also written a bit of analysis about how this shot mirrors the shot of Julia bleeding out in S1E1: how Olrox's hair is pooled around him the same way her blood was, and how these compositions suggest a sacrificial offering. In this scene, Olrox is offering his hair—his self—up to Mizrak in a gesture of love and penance.

Anyway I could probably go on but I have reached the 10 image limit and this is long enough already. I guess if there's a point to be made with all of this, it's that I don't think the cultural/historical inaccuracy of Olrox's design detracts from his character, but actually does a lot to tell a story about how he has been affected by the forces of colonization, and in what ways his identity as a Mexica man influences the way he now navigates the world around him.

But mostly??? I just love Olrox Castlevania Nocturne and like thinking about him a totally normal amount 🫠🫠🫠

[sramoonlight]

Mask off

What if the batfamily had their own spider?

Content you’ll see here: Batfam, neutral!reader, subtle crossover, weird romcom.

English it’s not my first language so please be patient!

New York City was an important thing for you, of course it was your mother city and also the place that you feel more secure, let’s not talk about the rat problem or the homeless people, let’s just vibe out with it.

You and your mother weren’t people of money, your mother works on a known company, Alchemax, it’s not good paid but enough to let you survive with just a halftime job

You could ask your father for some money but… you don’t know who he is! You just know he is a rich playboy back in Gotham, anyways, neither you or your mother would ask anything from him, it’s not the way you do things

Oh! A surprise note, you’re a spidey, well not just a THE! There’s no one else like you out there, well the meta humans but they’re at cities that you don’t care much about, maybe a little but the only important thing is that they don’t make your job hard.

Speaking of which, you’re doing a great job as a hero beating the shit out of a non important villain, geez they want to ruin your dinner with your mother

Good that you just kicked their face and now they’re out

— Thank god! Okay, let’s do this quick, shall we? — you shot your webs wrapping them around their body, with an approval hum you used one web to take your backpack — Tell the cops that your friendly friend spidey did this —

You ran out of there trying to be as quickly as you can, if you aren’t quick you’ll miss the fancy dinner your mother worked for.

Swinging like you always do, you arrived at a near alley taking off your suit as you pulled out formal clothes doing your best to put them on and take off the suit without flashing anyone, not that there where someone but still

2 minutes before the curfew you entered the restaurant, fixing your hair as you sat down in front of your mother, like a clock a waitress puts a plate of food in front of you, how luxury was this place?

— You made it on time — She said with a serious expression as she started cutting her steak, you did the same — I’m getting better at this — with a chuckle you started chewing the food.

A trivial conversation started, your mom talking about some issues at work as you tell her your issues being a Spidey, after a seconds she looked at you, the smile on her face disappearing

— Love, I have something to tell you — Here it goes, you prepared yourself fixing your posture — give me your shot — You smiled at her

She took a deep breath, her face turning dark

— I need you to go to your father’s — and it felt like your life was falling apart, moving from New York? That was your city! You can’t just abandon it like nothing! — Before you say anything, I know you have responsibilities but so do I, and.. I don’t want to neglect you —

You kept your thoughts, your mother wouldn’t ask you this if she didn’t have to and that felt horrible, you nodded accepting her words.

— Good, you’ll leave this weekend — this is going to suck.

Saturday morning, you were placing your things at the back of the taxi, it felt so wrong to leave but you can’t deny that it’s for the best.

Your mother looked at you, her have filled with regret but determination, she won’t ask you to stay and that makes you sick because you know that she’ll need to this.

— I need you to be safe there, Gotham isn’t like New York — she said as long as you turned to see her, you nodded walking to her and she kissed your forehead — I will mom—

Now on the car you think, you are leaving New York with no one to care care of them, the anxiety is on your stomach as you try to think that no one would do something

Dr. Octavia is in jail, the green gobbling too and many of them are too, maybe little criminals but you want to think the cops would do their job or at least you want that.

The taxi dropped you at the airport and you took the airplane, by the night you’re now waiting for one of your father’s employees to take you out, with a sigh you type a text to your mother

“Mom, I’m at Gotham”

No response.

— Are you miss (last time)? — an old man ask you and you turned to see him, with a nod you walked to the limousine.

An awkward silence filled the car as you tried to think of something else, you do know your father has another 4 children and you can’t but think they’re going to be bratty as hell.

You took a glimpse of the streets, they’re even more nasty than New York’s

— Im Alfred Pennyworth, by the way, I know you may be curious about your new home but don’t worry, Wayne family will treat you nice — the way he talked about it made you shiver

It felt weirdly wrong to not be able to tell, your spider sense won’t tell you about social damage and that pisses you off.

A few more minutes passed and you were already at the manor, for the last time you checked your clothes leaving the limousine

You don’t know why did they send you this when it was only you, you sighed again following the butler to the living room

— You must be (reader) — a man, you recognized him as Bruce Wayne greeted you with a smile and you analyzed his looks

That… didnt looked like poor Brucie, he shakes your hand, before you could pull away he pulls you but to hug you

— Im so happy to know you — another shiver, this man doesn’t know about consent.

He gives you a tour that you can’t remember now, anyways, you’ll be there only for a weeks and you’ll be back at New York, right?

— You’ll be attending the same school as my youngest, Damian — he said smiling at you, you had to lay your head showing your confusion for him to notice

— Oh, you don’t know your brothers.. we’ll have a dinner tonight for you to meet them —

He pats your shoulder leaving you there, you looked around assuming that this is your room, much bigger than the one you have on New York but that can work, you didnt notice when your bags were there

That butler sure is good, you think before sending your mom a text

“Im at my father’s”

Maybe she’s still at work you think, yeah, that’s it

You smiled scrolling through your phone, your friends asking you if you arrived safely, you’re going to miss them but you remind yourself that you’ll be there in a couple of weeks.

…

How many hours passed? You looked at the battery on your phone.. 27%

Before you could do anything, there’s a knock on the door

— Miss (Reader), dinner is ready — you made a sound making sure he knew you heard him before getting up

You sighed, how many times did you do it? You left your room following your intuition and magically it did lead you to the dining room, there, around four people were sitting there making you feel nervous

Where could you sit? You looked for an empty place but Alfred makes his way in front of a chair pulling it out of you, you thank him before sitting down.

— (Reader) let me introduce you to Dick, my oldest — you looked at the man who smiled making you smile at him, he looks like a good guy — Tim and this little tanned boy is Damian — you followed his gaze trying to memorize the faces

Well, they’re quite different so it would be easy

Wait, didnt Bruce Wayne have a fourth child? Weird, maybe you did your research wrong, anyways.

The dinner was silence, you were but everyone keeps talking to each other about things that you don’t know but you don’t plan to guess either

— You don’t look like father — The tanned guy, you assume it was Damian, say that looking at you with a completely blank face, you had to look at Bruce Wayne to notice that indeed, you don’t look anything like him — How do we know you’re his kid? —

Ouch, you can’t blame him, he’s a person of money of course you have to pay attention to details just to about scams, but you had to thought

You’re sure exactly like your mother, like, same hair and eyes maybe yours it’s a different hair type but that doesn’t matter

You sighed, there’s nothing you can use to prove that you’re nothing but a kid sent to take care of, something you sure hate

— Im sure my mom did a DNA test, Mr. Wayne sure has it — you said chewing your meat, you can hear a cough

— You can just call me dad — this person, Bruce Wayne looks like a person yearning for being part of you life and you can’t but think that he is like this because of what he suffered as a kid

Someone seeking for attention, nothing like you actually.

— It’s okay Mr. Wayne — You refused to give this man what he wanted, instead smiling as a way to shut his words, he looked hurt and you can’t blame him not when your words sounded harsh — Im just here until my mom feels is good for me to go back home —

But instead of receiving an answer you heard nothing, you raised an eyebrow but before you could say anything

— Im sure hungry for dessert! Aren’t you, little bird? — you waited for the person Dick mentioned to reply, nothing, you realized he was talking to you

— Me? Uhm, I don’t actually eat dessert — you mentioned new to this short chat, you sure did when you had the moment to eat a fancy dinner, this sure wasn’t but whatever

— Really? Well, you have to get used to it — you still don’t understand the rich people and their actions.

The way to the school was silent, sure Damian is younger than you but only by a few years so you still had to be with him at school, speaking of which

This is nothing like the public school you used to go to, you’re sure that this place isn’t something fancy because they’re various type of students, not just the typical white students from an American comedy.

Walking through the halls as you wrote the steps you just did in your head to not forget them on your first day, sure it is a huge school but your intuition may help right.

You opened the door of the classroom making your way to an empty seat, the class didnt last long ‘til it started, you didn’t hear much of what the teacher she was saying until she started passing list

— (Reader) Wayne? — you made a confuse expression

— Here, and it’s (Last name) not Wayne — you said not wanting to be disrespectful but the idea of being placed as a rich person made you feel sick.

The teacher looked at the papers on her hands humming

— It says that you’re a Wayne, im sorry — so it wasn’t a thing she said because she knew who your father was

So weird.. maybe they did this so you won’t need of your mother, anyways, you’ll be here only for a couple of days.

The class continued like it should, the others did too so you found yourself on your way home sitting beside Damian who was scrolling through her phone

— Uhm, Mr. Pennyworth — you called

— You can call me only Alfred, miss — that sent a shiver through your back, you couldn’t

— Yeah, uh, it looks like I’m not being called by my last name on the school system —

The man stays silence before he chuckled, you assumed that it was of how weird it sounds, but you guess he would have it cover

— You’re a Wayne — Damian said, rising his gaze from his phone, you had to whisper a low “excuse me?” For him to show you something

And for second time in this week, you felt your heart going down

Alchemax, the place were your mother work exploded in an accident just the night before, how could you? Wait

The looks everyone gave you at the dinner, did they already know? But how could your mother know that it was going to happen?

Why? Why?

But the way back was silent.

[nerdlvr]

dreamies if they weren’t idols ~*

this is all imaginary stuff from my imagination , i went by some of the things they're mentioned irl but idk i kinda let my imagination run wild LMAO , requested here !

mark , by the age of 31 he's a children's book author with a happy family

being artistic in that way is just something that comes natural to mark. i specifically think he'd write children's books or those adventure novels cause his imagination is just so grand, he has so much material to just write hundreds of pages of whatever he's imagining. considering his age and religion as well i truly think he'd at least be married at this point, kids being a big thing he's planning on soon! his lockscreen is a pic of his partner and kid, he's so full of love in the life he's living. ~* didn't finish college but majored in english , living in canada

renjun , by the age of 30 he's a small business owner who is actively dating

i genuinely think renjun would own like a little art business selling art supplies and little pieces he's created. Whether it's clay, paint, or markers renjun is good at using and selling them. I think romantically he'd do a lot of dating I don't know why by I feel like men or woman he's likes the feeling of getting some loving, he'd settle down eventually but he likes to date all different types of people before landing on the one. renjun's life is full of color and that gives him peace. ~* got a masters in art for fun , living in china

jeno , by the age of 30 he's working on cars and thinking about marriage

anything that has to do with cars, whether it's auto repair, design, engineering he's just into cars. i feel like he'd enjoy learning all about cars so that he's able to work with them in every way. he's the guy they always call at the auto shop because he knows everything. lets be real... jeno is hot as fuck and there's no way he'd be single by 30. I think he's the type to wait for a deepened bond in order to consider marriage and by 30 i think he'll finally feel ready to give it his all. loves his girl and his cars and nothing makes him happier than when they're together. is the type to let his partner decorate their passenger side. ~* did trade school for auto engineering , living in korea

haechan , by 30 is a pretty house husband with kids

idc. haechan loves kids and he wants to get on that asap. it took him a while to find the one (i think he's super picky) but when he found them that was it for him. he'd find any possible way to get as many kids as he can in a short period of time, but because of his partner he stopped at 3 kids LMAO. i think he'd be content with the feeling of being a caregiver and he gives sugar baby vibes srry. but he always has dinner ready, the house cleaned, and the babies showered. he loves that he gets to show his love for his partner in that way and at the same time have free time i follow any hobby he chooses. is the designated parent to sing the lullabies ofc. ~* didn't finish college cause he had a kid , was majoring in music theory , living in korea

jaemin , by 30 he's dr. na the cat dad

i think that jaemin is super flirty and romantic but i don't think he's seriously considering a family yet. he's taken a lot of his youth studying for his career so he's built more bonds as friendships instead of romantic ones. he's literally dr. dreamy and all the nurses are in love with him, but he's more than happy going home to his baby kitties. he does have close friends though that keep an eye on him because he's the type to really get into his work and just lose himself and go MIA. it's a hard life but jaemin is content with the fruits of his labor. ~* got a medical degree and did his residency to be a surgeon , living in korea

chenle , by 29 he's a sports media manager in love with the game (ifykwim)

i think chenle loves basketball but going pro didn't really work out with him, so i feel like he'd turn to media management, loving the idea of being with the team and campaigning for his favorite team. he's bossy and he runs the place so the players take him seriously, maybe even sometimes more than their coach. romantically i genuinely think chenle is a little shit. everyone wants him (insane face card) but he likes the game, being with one or the another to have some fun, but by 29 i don't think he's looking to fully commit. ~* double majored in communications and management , lives in the states maybe somewhere hot

jisung, by 28 he's on his way to the moon !

he's finally gotten his astronaut certification and he's so ready to get to work. he literally cried every year studying late nights and training for his job but when he puts on his suit it is so worth it. he definitely needed a push to get through the 10 years of becoming an astronaut and he got that push from his very special partner. he met them at the start of college and it has just been a sweet romance since. every time he wanted to give up they were there to remind him everything he worked for. can he bring his partner to the moon to propose? ~* has a masters degree in a random science major and 2 years of an internship , went to d.c to be with NASA, misses his mom but is now known as andy.

[shoujosoulsite]

𐔌 .🪽 ⋮ things that make me excited in my home reality/waiting room !!

I felt hella mad because this fuckass reality is pissing me the fuck off so here is a little post that helps motivate me! …. honestly just me yapping about specifically stuff I love in waiting room

Having all the time in the world

having all the time to sleep, work on my scripts, or do whatever is the dream. Since it’s a “timeless” and eternal dimension where you can just be at peace, I can do anything without any stress of a deadline! I can learn new skills, even ones that take years or even a lifetime to learn!

Playing Roblox/minecraft and actually having fun

I want to play not only Roblox and Minecraft but just overall video games and genuinely have fun. (This is mainly targeted towards Roblox because it’s just isn’t the same no more. ) royale high, natural disasters, and feel the facility gonna be peak in my waiting room.

Eating and drinking whatever and whenever I want

Just the thought of having pretty much an infinite buffet of all you can eat and at any time. You wake up in the morning and you craving some hot dogs or noodles, you can quickly get some from the fridge or better yet summon it! I’m gonna be drinking a lot of strawberry lemonade and cherry sodas 😭✌️

Learning how to crochet and knitting

I ALWAYS wanted to learn how to crochet and knit so I can make the cutest of items and clothes! It’s looks so fun and relaxing and just an overall great hobby to have. Plus imagine crocheting plushies or sweaters, especially for your lover and watching some slice of life animes or films! That’ll be so peaceful and healing for me.

Finally starting to do tarot and channeling

when I was a “baby shifter” and finally getting used to the shifting community, I always wanted to learn channeling and divination. I thought it would be cool and fun, especially contacting people from my drs. I want to be that cool and mysterious divinator who seems to have all the answers of universe (and in technicality, pretty much does)

Catch up on bleach, one piece, and Naruto

there is SOO MANY animes and mangas that I need to catch up on, especially older ones. Plus, watching medias, especially in the environment of my home reality— it’s honestly just a huge vibe.

Read way more Shojo / josei manga

i do read a lot of shojosei mangas but not a lot compared to shonen ones. I wanna change that and have equal amount of shojo, josei, shonen, and seinen mangas and animes that I’ve watched or read.

Astral projection with my lover

astral projection honestly looks so fun (especially when you know what to do and how to protect yourself). Since my lover is an absolute natural in astral projection, having him show me the ways on how to do it and go on little adventures in astral plane seems so awesome.

Rewatching childhood shows

this is mainly Winx club, miraculous ladybug, and Pokémon that I’m referring too (but specifically Winx club cause that show has a special place in my heart). I would love to watch it again and experience nostalgia, especially in the comforts of my waiting room.

Painting Toru’s nails for fun (+ self care in general )

honestly doing self care with each other like washing each other’s hair, painting each other’s nails, wearing face masks gossiping (which is just us making jokes and shit talking ) stuff that happen either our drs or the astral realm, and much more.

Read / watch way more Chinese dramas and books

Chinese dramas, especially set into the traditional and ancient fantasies be so fucking wild and crazy. Like the suspense and pure chaos in those shows / films be so addictive that you can’t help but watch. Every evening in my home reality, it’s just gonna be chaotic and entertaining Chinese dramas from 6 pm to 11 pm.

Exploring my waiting room

even though the main part of my waiting room is just my floating house, there is a “world” outside of it, a worlds of many forms and mystery. Hell even my house be hella big and has many secrets. I like to call my house in a way labyrinth as they are many stuff that consists of my waiting room. The concept of Infinity has a huge part in my waiting room from not only just time but possibilities and creation, so there is something new everyday! Especially when exploring and having fun.

backshots 😈🙏

you know what I mean here so let’s not get into 💀

the beautiful view(s) I have in my house

I have this big as balcony that has the view of the outside world and skies and it’s one of the most beautiful things you can look at. Even the images in my imagination is nothing compared to the real deal. It’s most ethereal during the mourning and evenings.

[lady-asphodel]

DR. RATIO ANALYSIS: The hard Truth who Uncovers the sweet Lies | Awareness vs Foolishness

Hello everybody, and welcome back to my analysis of Dr. Ratio in: "Crown Of The Mundane And The Divine". In this post, as a follow up to my previous one about his introductory cutscene, I will talk about Dr. Ratio in "When The Stars Of Ingenuity Shines."

Disclaimer: Whilst it is not needed to read my first post, I recommend you to do so to understand the context of some comments I will do here. Also, everything said in this post is subjective, as my own, personal interpretations, and must not be treated as canon or taken as face value. I don't pretend to know Dr. Ratio better or that my speculations for him are the right ones. I will also often compare the EN lines and the CN lines, and will automatically take the CN as a base for my analysis of there are differences. Thank you <3

1- Strict education or narcissistic correction?

We will start off with the dialogues before the boss fight.

EN: "Are you waiting for a sign? Time is ticking. Descend via the elevator - what you seek is there."

CN: 愣著做什麽，你時間很多嗎？我看不像。坐電梯下去，你要找的東西就在那裡。

CN translation: "Why are you standing in a daze, do you have a lot of time? Doesn't seem like it to me. Take the elevator down - what you're looking for is right there"

The differences here are not that significant, they both kind of give the same message: Hurry up. Right from the start, we're embarked in the action, we have no time. Dr. Ratio's impatience is showing very much right there, a feeling that is much more pronounced in the CN but fairly condensed in the EN.

Though what is interesting to note in the CN is that the part" do you have a lot of time" is very sarcastic and self-explanatory in itself: Traiblazer doesn't have a lot of time. Yet, Dr. Ratio still reinforces the comment with " Doesn't seem like it to me ". Which highlights quite well his critical and observant stand point.

At the end of the cutscene, Dr. Ratio told Traiblazer to get thinking. Then, his first line is basically:" hurry up !". Which relate to the two values I've pointed out in his cutscene: the mind and time.

Then, the last line is strictly informative. He's a guide; he knows Traiblazer's goal, he knows what to do and he gives the direction (remember, always two steps ahead. I will say that a lot with him). It kinda gives off the vibe of your typical game quest cursor which shows you where to go or what to do but doesn't actually actively help you do it. Once again, Dr. Ratio is an observer and not active.

Of course, Traiblazer gets curious and can ask one of the three questions: Who are you ?/ Why are you here ?/ Do you know what I'm looking for ?

Dr. Ratio then answers:

EN: "Have you considered whether the answer to your question will be of any relevance to our current predicament?"

CN: 提問之前，不如先想一想，答案是否對你要解決的問題有益。

CN Translation: "Before asking a question, it would be better to first consider whether the answer will help the problem you want to solve"

There is a heavy difference between the two in my opinion. The EN line is confrontational and even slightly accusatory, as if it should have been obvious that this question shouldn't have been asked. However, in the CN, there is a more technical (professional) approach to it. That's not an attack or an accusation, more like a recommendation. "Have you...?" will imply a sort of expectation while "It would be..." will sound like a suggestion. EN's structure and tone gives off a similar one to "why are you even doing that?" or "That's completely useless right now." while CN is more like "it's best not to do that." or "That's not what's needed right now."

Do you see the difference? There's one word that perfectly describes that difference and it is harshness; Dr. Ratio is not meant to be harsh, he's meant to be eccentric, strict and slightly nonchalant.

EN: "If a question is of no help, then don't ask it. Time is clearly precious to the both of us."

CN: 如果沒有，最好別問，顯然你我的時間都很寶貴.

CN Translation: "if not, it's best not to ask--clearly, both your time and mine are valuable."

In itself, the sentence is the same. However, in CN we find that instructive and even slightly advisatory tone and structure instead of much more condemning one. "Don't ask it" vs "it's best not to ask". It's subtle but it makes all the difference sometimes, especially with a character that is already strict and serious, adding more to that will naturally unbalance the equilibrium between Dr. Ratio's intolerance and his casualness.

Now, putting that aside, Dr. Ratio is right on one thing: That will not help trailblazer to know who he is exactly, what he's doing here or how he knew what their goal was. The thing here is that he's not saying "I expect you to follow my every word because I'm right", more like: "I'm not important, you don't have to trust me, but hurry up, time's running".

Time is extremely important and to make sure to not waste it, we may be confronted with a situation where we have to dive into the unknown and be in a place where we don't know what's trustworthy or not.

EN: "...Never mind. Allow me to clarify something. I know exactly who you are, and I'm aware you are in Ruan Mei's employ. This was not my intended destination — I just happened to find my way here during my visit and saw what she was up to."

CN: ...…算了，就当做个示范：我知道你是谁，也知道你在为阮•梅办事；我本是空间站的访客，误入此地，目睹了她的实验.

CN Translation: "...... Never mind, just treat this as a demonstration: I know who you are, and I know you're working for Ruan Mei. I was originally a visitor of the Space Station but accidentally ended up here and witnessed her experiment."

Here, Dr. Ratio acknowledges Traiblazer's confusion and need of some answers. So, instead of ignoring it, he takes time to address it. He, at first, tried to advise Traiblazer about oral efficiency by explaining it but then the "never mind" comes a change of method to adapt at a situation. He's thoughtful.

There's one important difference in the first line, which reinforces the tone difference for the two previous lines: "Allow me to clarify something." vs "just treat this as a demonstration:"

Since in the two previous lines the EN went with a more harsh and accusatory structure, here, to follow the steps, when Dr. Ratio answers to dissipate Traiblazer's confusion by giving actual needed answers, it feels like he's putting up with it just because they asked first. It's an abrupt transition that doesn't make sense. Why is he explaining itvwhen right before he was condemning it. As if: "Since you already asked, i'll answer it then"

While, for the CN, since the structure was instructive, it is a continuation of the previous lines, which transforms a mere suggestion/comment into a demonstration. His answers are not simply there to answer Traiblazer in a relevant manner, he's using this opportunity to teach what he had already begun to teach before (crazy when he's a professor right).

He knows Traiblazer, he knows Ruan Mei, he knows there's an arrangement between them, he's a visitor to the space station (subtly telling that he isn't someone trying to attack it, he was invited), he was there first and saw Ruan Mei's experiment and that's why he's there. All that information in two simple sentences. That's his demonstration.

EN: "My goals are roughly aligned with yours. Since you're here, I won't intercede... but should you fail, I will be forced to prevent some avoidable misfortunes."

CN: 我的目的大抵和你相同，既然你來了，我便不會干涉。但如果你失敗，我就會強硬介入，阻止一些不必要的麻煩

CN Translation: "My goal is roughly the same as yours. Since you're here, I won't interfere. But if you fail, I will step in forcefully to prevent any unnecessary trouble."

The sentence is kinda the same, the only difference is that for EN, Dr. Ratio says he will be forced to step in rather that he's the one that will forcefully step in.

What he's saying there is that while he'll stay on the sideline, because that's how Dr. Ratio operates, failure is not to be feared. He's kind of telling Traiblazer that there's a safe net below them. If they fail, he will be there to take the torch and arrange everything. It's not only a way to show Dr Ratio confidence in his own abilities WITHOUT arrogance and narcissism (pride and confidence does not equal those), as well as it hints at us that he alone is capable of dealing with this mess, but it is just a show of how Dr. Ratio methods' and mindset fundamentally work: "Failure is not the end, there's always another option after it."

EN: "That's all you need to know. Just two paragraphs. Very effective communication."

CN: 你知道這些就夠了--- -共兩句話，非常有效率的溝通

CN Translation: "Knowing this is enough for you--just two sentences in total, very efficient communication"

Both mean the same. However, without the instructive tone given by the first lines, the last two can't be perceived as educational and ends up feeling like showing off and putting up with the interlocutor (something that can be seen as a burden), which naturally leads to believing he's arrogant and narcissistic. Because, he isn't really praising himself there, he's demonstrating remember, but since the EN didn't utilize the right structure, it can end up being read differently.

Two of the threes choices to say after are either "Thank you for telling me that" or "You're not a bad person after all". Because Traiblazer's curiosity reflected their doubts and distrust to a literal stranger. Dr. Ratio knew and acknowledged that while giving a lesson. And you may remark that Traiblazer still doesn't know anything about Dr. Ratio! All Traiblazer needed to know was that Dr. Ratio is not a menace to their goal, which he delivered. Efficiency ++

If "Thank you for telling me that" or "You're not a bad person after all" then:

EN: "I can't stand discourtesy - even when it comes from myself."

CN: 因為我討厭不知禮數、惡言相向的人一富然，也包括我自己。

CN Translation: "Because I despise those who lack manners and speak harshly--myself included, of course."

A very, very important line that I feel like a lot of people overlooked and partially because of EN. Oh, what do I read here......."AND SPEAK HARSHLY" Crazy! Why would someone who's harsh hate people who speaks harshly? Maybe because he's not supposed to be harsh to begin with! I'm just sayin."What if he is hypocritical?" Ahahahahah. No. The last sentence literally is there to reject hypocrisy.

Anyway. Dr. Ratio explains that he despises - here, the characters 讨厌 (simplified) describe a sentiment between mild dislike to intense dislike, the end of the phrase softens the tone by mixing a sense of humility with strong critique- those who lacks manners; in other words, disrespect and rudeness.

Dr Ratio would have been 'rude' had he not given answers to Traiblazer's questions or reassured them that he wasn't an enemy. After all, while it was a question for an unnecessary answer, it was still a reasonable one. That's why despite his lesson about it, he still actually answered, while turning it into something that both of them could profit for: for Ratio, he proved his sincerity and his alliance, and Traiblazer gained an ally and a free lesson on time management (lol).

And he PRECISES that he also dislikes people who speak harshly. The phrase itself is pretty clear, but the characters 恶语相向 (simplified) also form an idiom in Chinese that refers closely to being cruel, being verbally offensive on purpose and lashing out. So mean and harsh comments. And I think we can't make it more obvious that Ratio is not mean, harsh or cruel in any way. Dr. Ratio is sarcastic, strict and negative minded, but he isn't cruel or harsh about it.

Lastly, "myself included, of course". Self-awareness. Dr. Ratio quite literally tells in black and white that he doesn't like harshness and rudeness, especially from himself. "Of course" there emphasizes the fact it should be a banality, a norm and obvious. Of course it concerns himself! He represents truth, why would truth be hypocritical and insincere? No, truth is strict, straightforward and simple, yet also detached, neutral and helpful. That's who Dr. Ratio is.

(If "Why do you wear an alabaster head...." Then:)

EN: "Because I can't bear to see idiots. Of course, they wouldn't want to see me either."

CN: 因为我见不得蠢材，当然，他们也不想见我 。

CN Translation: "Because I can't stand fools, and of course, they don't want to see me either."

Fortunately, CN and EN are nearly identical on this one, both in tone and structure, because it is a very important line. The characters 见不得 for“l can't stand" are very strong: they imply heavy dislike, absolutely no tolerance or even aversion. But the key word here is intolerance. It's not a surprise when Dr. Ratio constantly expresses his intolerance for foolishness (a.k.a, arrogance and ignorance as we concluded on the last post).

What's funny is that so far he only complains about foolishness, waste of time or mean behavior. And I think we can take those as some sort of standards. And yes those standards, paired with biases Ratio has for the cosmos (but as Truth, how can he not?) kind of honestly nurture a sense of unconventional "self-centeredness" (in the sense that he acts only based on his standards and biases) that isn't associated with selfishness, arrogance or narcissism. Quite paradoxical? That's the point, Dr. Ratio's entire character is ironic and paradoxical, while embracing a complex, perfect imperfection. (note: will be heavily developed later).

The other part is as important and impactful:"Of course, they don't want to see me either." "Of course" implies some sort of expectation, norm once again, while the rest brings forth a direct confrontation.

While Dr. Ratio critics fools he also admits mutual dislike. There's a clear and poignant duality that we were already able to read in his cutscene, because to cure foolishness is a battle of the self and one must go through it the hard way (practice and negativity) to let go of ignorance and achieve awareness. What I find extremely interesting is that the sentence itself is written in stone, it won't change: the confrontation between Dr. Ratio and fools are inevitable. And if we look at it through my personal theory, that Dr. Ratio is the personification of Truth (as a concept itself) then this sentence is even more meaningful. Because it isn't just Dr. Ratio vs fools, it's Truth against Arrogance (foolishness). Fools, ignorant and arrogant people, hate to be told the truth or to confront the truth. Truth is self-aware, fools are not and that's what sets up the global norm to what people are in Ratio's point-of-view: Fools and everyone else. Simple as that.

EN: "Go. Take the elevator and bear witness to this "Genius' Masterpiece.""

The CN is identical.

What I want to talk about for this lines is what represents the "Masterpiece Of Genius" and how it sets the beginning of Dr. Ratio's lesson that will happen in "Mundane Troubles". What Ruan Mei created is mindblowing of course, but also extremely dangerous and that's what "Masterpiece of Genius" represents: it shows Geniuses' habits to selfishly produce danger without them necessarily caring. And that will be one of the points that will lead Dr. Ratio to question their hierarchy in the cosmos and people's careless, blind faith in them, in "Mundane Troubles".

2- Cutscene: Final Observation

In the cinematic, Dr. Ratio stands far and above, with an absolute view of everything. Not only does it showcase exactly Dr. Ratio's methods (remember, standing back and observing) but the fact he is there, like an instructor yes, but the settings itself give him a sort of charisma.

Well, I may be biased on that one because there's no denying Dr. Ratio's attractiveness and charisma. But, my point is that even when he was only in a secondary plan in this situation, his presence still feels significant.

He does a standard, clinical observation about what happened at the end of the experiment. Once again the fact he's the one confirming that the threat is over instead of Traiblazer who had been fighting or Ruan Mei who is the author of it, shows some kind of importance for his character, his role and what he represents (here, can be read as truth).

Then, immediately and without hesitation, it's time to get going. There's no need to linger there or to ponder about further things, no time to waste; again, Dr. Ratio and time management.

3- RUAN MEI: Truthfulness vs Falsehood

For this last section, I will talk about two of Ruan Mei's dialogue moments. You may ask yourself "but why talk about Ruan Mei in a Dr. Ratio's analysis?" Well, let me show you. But before that, keep in mind that what's told below is based on the idea that Ratio is Truth.

I find this specific line to be very interesting, because I think it kind of give an idea of what Geniuses stand for and we can make (and even see) an opposition with Dr. Ratio which ends up being quite ironic (just like his character hm). Trailblazer asks Ruan Mei about life outside of research and Ruan Mei basically answers that she has none and that it's how she wants it.

It seems like Genius Society members dedicate their entire life and existence to research and some extent, to finding answers, so 'truth'. While, on the other hand, from everything that we are able to observe about Ratio in all the contents he's appearing in, it seems like Dr. Ratio is dedicating research to Life. Not in the same way Ruan Mei does. Life as in humanity and civilization throughout the cosmos.

And that's one of the dualities that is present in "Crown Of The Mundane And The Divine". Dr. Ratio, who is pretty self-aware and represents truth, dedicates his existence to the assistance of civilization and their evolution. While geniuses who dedicate life to research don't have much knowledge of civilization (the Mundane) and sometimes even less of the self. There's a clear opposition between them and it may be what's actually the cause of Dr. Ratio being unable to draw the gaze of Nous. I will talk about it in more detail in another post.

Traiblazer talks one last time with Ruan Mei, and it is revealed that she gave the "Anti-Truth" she gave them has more abilities than she had told. Traiblazer will slowly forget about Ruan Mei in order to protect her secrets because she isn't someone who trusts easily.

I find this moment extremely interesting and meaningful in its contrast with Traiblazer's whole interactions with Dr. Ratio.

On one side, we have Dr Ratio, who can be considered the personification of Truth and was there to point out Ruan Mei's lies and guide us to the real truth; on the other side, Ruan Mei, a Genius, uses "Anti-Truth"to conceal her lies and secrets after they had been discovered and dealt with.

We have Dr. Ratio who is often villainized and is eccentric, while Ruan Mei is praised and delicate.

Dr. Ratio (or truth) is straightforward and can be perceived as ruthless, while the Anti-Truth is described as slow and sweet. Almost like a metaphor to truth being hard to accept while lies are sweet and easily deceives.

And finally, Ruan Mei, who lied, tried to conceal the truth (and her identity) while being bare-faced with us. However, Dr. Ratio, who guided tb to truth, had his identity hidden throughout the quest. It's funny when bareness is a typical symbol associated with Truthfulness and their personifications, but Ratio had his identity covered while Ruan Mei was not hiding it. There's actually a story about the Truth Goddess Ratio may be inspired from; about her counterpart (falsehood) pretending to be her (Truth). One of the moralities in those myths and stories is often that lies may start off as successful but Truth will always prevail. Which I think is quite fitting in this situation

CONCLUSION:

As a continuation to his introductive cutscene, we have the start of a slow development of Dr. Ratio's main traits and characteristics. It's diverting to realize, after all the other quests and looking back at the first ones, that early on there were already the hints and showcases of Dr. Ratio's personality and values. Throughout the quest, Trailblazer interacted with an unknown man (Dr. Ratio), and it was that same unknown man that helped Traiblazer uncover the affairs of someone Traiblazer already knew and trusted!

Here, Dr. Ratio may have represented Truth, not in its bare state as he usually does. It's interesting to note that Dr. Ratio tells himself that he could show his true colors but that it ends up being rather counter productive. Just like the fact Truth itself is better represented bare but few people actually can handle it that way. That's also a morality brought forth in the story of Truthfulness and her Counterpart, the one where Falsehood pretends to be Truthfulness by wearing her clothes, Truthfulness was naked and tried to convince Men that it was a trick but Men condemned Truthfulness, preferring a beautiful lie than the bare truth.

Dr. Ratio wearing an Alabaster Head most of the time might be a reflection to that but a little bit twisted, in order to prevent counterproductive results; a covered truth is still truth. Hiding his sight (truth) from fools doesn't prevent them from learning and trying to find it behind the barriers he puts. I also think the alabaster Head is simply a reference to him being the personification of Truthfulness, since one of the myths about the goddess speaks of her being a statue originally.

Here's the points to remember:

Time is extremely important and should be used efficiently. Which we were already aware of, but the fact time is such a close and important concept glued to Ratio's character might have something to do with him being Truthfulness, as whilst one version tells that the goddess was created as a statue, another says that she was the daughter of Cronus (the time titan/god)

Dr. Ratio is an educator first and foremost. He is strict and intolerant but not harsh and cruel. His manner of speech will often be straightforward, simple, instructive and effective. But it doesn't exclude things like sarcasm, a touch of humour without losing that gloominess that surrounds his character.

His intolerance with fools is strong and reciprocal, which could represent, through a metaphor, the confrontation between arrogance/foolishness and truthfulness.

We are shown the premises of Dr. Ratio's methods more clearly: practice and detached observation.

And lastly, The way both Dr. Ratio and Ruan Mei were portrayed in constant opposition from one another foretells of the duality that Crown of the mundane and divine is inherently about and will be plainly talked about in Mundane Trouble

I hope you enjoyed this long but hopefully interesting and insightful post! I always end up writing so so much ahah. Next, I will dive into the very important quest: "Mundane Troubles'

If you like my analyses, and if you're interested to know more, stay tuned!

[triangular-static]

look i understand if people just don't like the idea of billford, i think we have a different internal concept of what shipping means (they're not good for each other at all but i need to dissect their dynamic like a bug. you understand. it's fun) but it's fine to avoid things you don't like, good for you genuinely

however people saying they like. don't see it. like. i'm not saying there's no platonic way to read it, i'm aroace spec myself i'm all for reading things in different ways. but i do think saying they weren't partners in any queer sense at all is trying too hard to go against what the narrative is trying to say, or missing it. somehow

anyway media literacy time if a character makes a joke like this

and the previous context of that joke within the show is that it's about an ex wife. what connection do you think the text is trying to get you to make.

and that's just from a writing point of view. not even noting that from an in universe perspective ford likely knows the joke from the same source as stan. and is therefore. placing himself in that role of the joke are you seeing where i'm coming from

(not to mention bill's side of this text which is. extremely manipulative but also does not read very platonic. again, it can technically be read as platonic! bill literally can manipulate ford's feelings. but the specific wording used is very much meant to look like possessive ex partner wording whether the character means it that way or not. it's coding. look again i'm not saying it was good for them i'm just saying there was something there.)

and then there's also the divorce/break up/rock bottom input on the website. like. how else is that supposed to be read. and the corresponding page in the book itself.

the language being used here. like yes he's saying it in a joking way but then there's the other side that isn't joking which is him crying at the bar. it's the both sides (the very coded language on top of the very genuine emotions and dynamic beneath)

i know most of us are on the same page with this i've just seen a couple people saying they don't see it when this is some of the most clear cut coding i've ever seen. and these are just the things that explicitly reference a relationship off the top of my head i'm not even including the general vibes of Everything

tl;dr it's barely even subtext anymore it's all but straight up text. what's not clicking have we forgotten what coding is (lighthearted i just enjoy the phrase what's not clicking. what's not clicking)

[sokkastyles]

hi :)) relatively new zk fan here (I liked them passively since the first time I watched atla, but back then I didn't even know shipping existed lol). Not to stir the pot (if you aren't okay with posting your answer, feel free to dm me), but I'm curious: I've seen this ship being grouped with and compared to other pairings I'm personally not too fond of, like r*ylo, b*kudeku, and dr*mione, and yet I don't get the same vibes from zutara? (or, at least, not from the largest part of the fancontent I've seen). The "grouping" seems to be labelled as either "delulu fans are still annoyed it wans't canon (it was never going to be!!)" or a bryke-esque tongue-in-cheek "oh silly girls, self-inserting and wanting an abusive (heteronormative or sexist) relationship with a dark prince to fulfill their 'i can fix him' fantasy" or wtv. I just don't think those are fair comparisons, but I also think it's kinda pointless to shit on other very hated/dismissed fandoms. So idk, I guess I'm looking for the right words to express how zk is actually the odd one out in that list of ships? thanks in advance!

Zutara really is on another level when compared to those ships both in terms of potential canonicity (multiple sources that it was considered and discussed in the writers' room) and in that it's the healthiest most possible outcome for enemies to lovers ships, in which both become genuine friends and allies and Zuko fixes himself before he can have any sort of relationship with Katara. But also, you are correct that it wouldn't matter either way. I'm not fan of those other ships, either, but I'm strongly proship and also don't care if someone doesn't ship zutara for the healing arc and canon potential and is just in it for the drama. But those things are there nonetheless and the ship shouldn't be reduced to only endless angst. Zutara is versatile like that 😁

[macknshift]

THE ONE WHERE . . . I INTRODUCE Y'ALL TO LEO!

SOOOO…i have mentioned leo in like, 90 different posts atp and never actually made a "leo intro" (mainly bc i have weird feelings ab sharing him heavily to the rest of the world lol) but! i figured now would be the best time to get into explaining him to y'all.

LEO , commonly given the last name SCOTT (depends on the dr!) is actually originally the main character's love interest in a hockey romance book i've been in the process of writing. after getting #sickandtired of annoying ass book men i gave up and began drafting one of my own. the main character is literally me (i mean, for christ's sake her name is sloane mackintosh,) and eventually, i began thinking of him in other "au"s (i used to do this a lot on wattpad - i mean DRs but the term AU is usually more digestible to ppl that may not be aware of reality shifting. Anyways.) and began kind of placing him in everything. a list of the drs he is my love interest in is follows;

BETTER CR : (fc silasj2004*) the hockey romance book pretty much as a dr. small changes occur but basically he's the exact same as leo in the book lol

PARENT DR : (fc jack schlossberg. yes. i am one of those girlies. i am not ashamed! at least he has morals + a backbone y'all this could be much worse) the "backstory" is my better cr dr. i'm now a mother of 3 (amelia or mimi, aged 5, giselle or gigi, aged 4 and i'm pregnant with vincenzo, our final kid,) and it follows our life after what would be the events of the book. i sort-of made it also as like a WAG dr in a sense bc leo is a professional hockey player! (but he retires 2 years before this point in time so idk where my thought process is w this lol)

FORMULA 1 DRIVER DR : (fc pato o'ward MY!!!! mclaren man ln4 U ARE NOTHINGGGGGGG) leonardo dempsey, son of actor patrick dempsey (my forever celebrity crush ugh he's so fine) and driver for aston martin aramco f1 team under #99. i essentially took l*nce str*ll's daddy's boy backstory and gave it to leo bc he is indeed a daddy's boy. the only dr leo and i are enemies to lovers bc i'm too obsessed w him otherwise LMFAO

MARVEL DR : (fc marcello hernandez (MY MAAANNNN)) leo scott, secretly the speedster superhero 'comet'. hired by my dad as essentially a bodyguard (leo's not intimidating AT ALL idek how the hell this is supposed to work LMFAO) as comet and knows me out of costume as his sister's roommate (mj is also in every dr ever and actually is here in this cr. i can never leave her out i love her DOWN) basically marichat vibes (god i miss marichat)

POP STAR DR : (fc marcello hernandez, again) leo sinatra, nepo baby great-grandson of frank sinatra (there's a whole, incredibly large bit of lore ab this LMFAO + he's also a great-grandson in my better cr dr too bc i need my man RICH!) and Saturday Night Live cast member. basically i go on snl and immediately fall in love. i've stolen the 'unlikely couple' weekend update sketch for us & he does domingo, which is my song lol we're funny for it idk

THE FCS, in color photos:

i'm missing like, 18 other drs that i can think of but some important info about him;

he's half oaxacan mexican. i've tried my damnedness to find a way to make it obvious but when i was 'designing' him (aka drawing him out) i used jack, silas (*NOTE: he is leo's typical fc if i don't have an designated one for him) and marcello as references to make him look the most like him as i can. the fcs are kind of loose for him but i need a way to like fully visualize him. so. yeah. his 'color palette' (weird way to put it but idk how else) makes him tanner than all three of them i fear. all of the fcs i use (other than jack schlossberg but like. idk his main celebrity lookalike in the better cr is him so i kind of had to) are latino, but i feel like it never ever properly translates when i talk about him bc his name is fucking leopold scott. like. huh.

he's also tall AS FUCK lol and built like a tank lowkey (think tom welling clark kent GOOD GOOGLY MOOGLY) but it's mainly bc he's a hockey player. in every vers he's like. 6'3. shortest he is is w marcello as his fc and even then he's 5'11. (note in pop star dr he gets a lot of comparisons to jacob elordi for some reason??? idk my fans are weird)

he's got big brown baby cow eyes. every. single. time. like that is this man's defining trait and you know what? i would not change that for the world lol

his position in hockey is a goalie! he uses the number #29 and plays for our college and later for the new jersey devils before being traded to the anaheim ducks. after he retires he becomes a firefighter!!!! (which is sooo hot btw)

[juliasmesmerized]

but I do

pairings: Josh Washington x F!Reader, Chris Hartley x Ashley Brown (Until Dawn) type: MINORS DNI, fluff AT FIRST, smut AT THE END, not knowing what they are, craving and desperate, biting, breeding kink, p in v, a bit of possession, inexperienced reader, hair pulling, kinda pervy josh, its big. you are responsible for your own usage of the internet; you were warned! vibes intended: wet dreams - odetari (ignore that one lyric it's not just lust) for the best experience: read parts I and II to understand the plot. then use the crhome extension called word replacer II. (i can also make a you / y/n-less version, but i just prefer seeing my name for DR purposes) word count: 1892 part 1 | part 2 | part 3

She melted into it, but y/n couldn't fully divulge into the feeling, passion, need. Josh pulled away, panting, and took her hand. She also took a few breaths. y/n couldn't see it as she stood behind his figure, but a grin was evident on his face.

His thoughts soaring faster than anything when he finally knew of reciprocation. All the while, his hand felt warm in her presence and she kept rubbing his hand with her thumb.

Y/n spoke up. "Where are we going?"

"My room." his tone felt like he was planning something, he was in a mood of craving something.

She took a calm breath; his hand held onto hers as he lead her. Back into the campus, the warmth engulfed them both. She knew Josh lived on a separate floor from her, one floor above her, to be exact. Once there, he let her in first. "m'lady." His voice was soft and more genuine.

y/n smiled at him. "Thank you, kind sir." His blue eyes lightly squinting when he mirrored a similar smile to her, he couldn't not adorn her cute demeanor, even if his thoughts towards her were anything but cute. He locked the door behind himself. She took off her cold jacket to reveal a black tight sweater.

She spoke up once more. "Where were we-"

Her words were cut off by the feeling of his lips on hers, with more aggression, and he was intentional in being desperate, needy, and trying to make up for all the time they never had.

He held her arms, and had her walk back to have her back to the wall. He places his hands on her cheeks, having his fleeting touch on her arms tingling.

Her inexperience was finally pried open by Josh, which made him smile at her. "You never told me you needed a little help, sweetheart."

y/n looked away in embarrassment, panting a bit harder than Josh. "I-I did have some experience, but you're way ahead of me." She whispered shyly, trying to regain her composure.

He leans closer to whisper into her ear. "No worries." Her breath hitched at the change of temperature that grazed her face.

"I'm here for you." He lead the make out session by kissing her once more. He decided to take it a little slow, but sped up as time went on.

y/n ran her hands up his lightly toned body covered by a light shirt and flannel. She clutched onto his shirt with need, the feeling had Josh going crazy for her. The ability of holding himself back to slow down for her kept dwindling.

He took off his flannel, now he only had an undershirt left. His muscled arms flexed unintentionally catching her gaze as he took his shirt off.

Her cheeks flushed at the sight of it, and honestly forgot herself until he placed a finger under the fabric covering her shoulder; signaling to ask her if he can take it off of her. She nods, and he obliges. Carefully, he pulled the shirt up as she held her hands high.

"Breathtaking..." Was all he could mutter out at the sight of her push-up bra. Desire in his eyes increasing with every moment he takes in her body.

He couldn't resist asking for her jeans to come off in the same way and she allowed it. She looked away to avoid keeping up eye contact, exposing more of her neck. He pulled y/n by her hips and directed her to sit on his lap.

Placing his hand on the back of her head, he pulled her in. Exploring her body with his hands, she shivered slightly at the feeling of his warm touch. Only letting her get away for a few breaths in between kisses.

The room now feeling cold with his fingers brushed her body, emphasizing the temperature. He moved his fingers from rubbing circles on the sides of her hips, to lightly moving up her waist, to feeling her breasts, then using his right hand to hold her neck.

They parted and he began kissing on her neck, picking at it at times, which rewarded him with hitched breaths and inadvertent sounds from y/n. Still taking it slow for her, treating her like a princess that needed protection, as if any action could break her like glass.

The kisses went down all the way to her chest. Between their parts were two simple pieces of fabric, she felt a bulge form below her and she got louder from the sudden friction.

Josh cut through her pleasure like a knife, and tucked two fingers into the hem of her panties, "get up for me." She listened once more. He pulled them off of her and she stepped out of them. He let her back on his lap once more.

He slowly felt around her folds, she was already dripping wet. "That's cute, sweetheart."

"You wanted this bad, didn't you?"

Before y/n could respond or even think to do so, he dipped his fingers into her clit and the other holding her up as her back arched and her hips were bucking from the pleasure; she began to grind herself for them to go in deeper.

"Don't be too loud now. We don't have sound proofing walls, you know."

Her first instinct when it came to muffling her moans was not to cover her mouth or become a pillow princess, but to bite. She didn't think it through, but she bit on his shoulder, not enough to fully break the skin. Josh groaned at the feeling. "I didn't know this princess bit back." He smirked, his two fingers still garnering moans.

Y/n's breathing getting faster and weaker. Her back still arched, mouth agape, looking like she was from a cheap porno. "J-Josh, 'm close."

He slipped his hand out. "Not yet." She pouted at his misdemeanor, he chuckled knowing what he did was unfair. He licked his fingers clean, and kissed her.

A sharp pain protruding from her lower lip caused her to open her mouth, indirectly letting his tongue in. It was him biting her lower lip. "This is the heaven I get to taste." Josh whispered then pulled her in for another. The salty flavor overwhelmed their kiss.

y/n parted first, and looked down at his crotch; she knew this action would immediately explain her thoughts. "Why don't you do a little bit of work?" He stood up to allow her to unzip his jeans and y/n sat down on her knees, feeling the cold floor.

Pulling the first layer down, she was faced with black boxers already stained with pre-cum. y/n went ahead and pulled down the boxers to reveal it and it was something. She gulped at the sheer size of it.

she spat on her hand, she mixed the dripping precum and her own spit and began slowly feeling her way up and down. The effect she had on him was evident by the roles reversing.

He was now making sounds to her touch. It felt good, something she didn't know she could do to a man. She began slow, but without alerting him, she speeds up. His groans got shakier until: "Stop."

Her heart sank.

He held her hand and pulled her up from her lower position. "I want to feel being inside you." She sighed, almost in relief until it dawned upon her that she's about to enter unknown territory. He gauged her expression, although disappointed, he respects her above all else. "If you want."

She sheepishly replied. "I do." She crossed her legs to hide her dripping wetness, even though it was a known secret between them that she was enjoying this.

He picked her up and laid her on her stomach. Josh took her knees to have her hold herself up. He lined the tip, lightly touching her entrance which already drove her wild.

"I haven't had the chance to compliment it as it deserved, but what a fucking pornstar bod, babe." A husky moan came out of him as he slowly began to fill her up with his length for the first time.

She hid her face into her arms as the first pang of pain rushed through her and her breath hitched once more. Once she was able to overcome that feeling and he was able to confirm, he grabbed a handful of her hair. He pulled her head back creating an arch that made his thoughts go on overdrive.

His hand grabbing the fat on her hips, he bucks his hips. "s'fucking tight." He bit on his bottom lip as he thrusted into her in ways she couldn't even dream of. Wet dreams were nothing compared to Joshua Washington's big dick.

The change from pain to pleasure had her drowning and dizzy. He liked the fact that he was filling her up like a cream pie. His thrusts were going strong while she was already nearing her limit. "I'm c-close..!" y/n's eyes were closed as she felt every. single. thing. She wasn't letting anybody sleep tonight with her moans, and neither of them cared.

He liked having her finish, but he was being a bastard about it. "Not yet. Hold it in." She huffed in a mix of pleasure and pain toward his response. Luckily for her, he wasn't as far off as he thought he'd be. Her taking him in so well for her first time, her mesmerizing back arch, beautiful sounds, and the fact that she was the only thing he wanted to do for a while did it for him.

He spoke in between breaths. "F-Fuck, y/n... I'm c-cumming..." His voice drowned out of her ears as she was fucked to the brim of sobriety. His pace, messy, needy, and desperate to get to his high while y/n was overstimulated and drunk on his cock. Her mind was completely blank and her actions were on autopilot.

Josh wanted to see it drip out of her. He pulled her hair with more force. "I'll fill you up, precious, yeah? It'll feel so good with my cum in you." He released inside of her, seeing his own seed drip out of her. Josh took it out and she immediately fell from her initial position, her eyes closed.

He wiped her down and cleaned her as much as he could, put aside a bit of the sheets. Picked her up bridal style, kissed her on her forehead, and laid her under his sheets. Regardless of roughness, he works hard to be a gentleman.

Josh picked up her outfit and his own, placing his in a laundry basket, and neatly fixing her clothes and folding them. He checked her bag to find her dorm key, hoping y/n wouldn't feel too badly about him grabbing her shower stuff from her shower.

"Mmmm..." y/n groans awake. She wipes the sleepiness from her eyes. "Josh...?"

Josh sweetly hummed to respond. "Mhm?"

"How long was..." y/n kept her eyes closed from the shining light on top of her. She put her hand up to shade her eyes. "...I asleep for?" Josh closed the light above her for her comfort.

"A half hour, sweetheart."

"... Sweetheart?" She quizzically asked him about his usage of pet names.

"Yeah, weird of us to do all of that only for us to stay friends, right?"

believe it or not, this is my first time writing something like this, and we finished the mini fic! im gonna sit and think of more ideas orrrrr send me some ideas based on my masterlist! •ᴗ• i do wanna say CONSTRUCTIVE criticism and thoughts are appreciated!

[1thesewordsaremyown1]

Look, I get people being upset about Bobby dying. What I don't get is people turning around and saying "that's it, I'm done with the show" (and I'm not just talking about here among the fandom, I'm talking about what I've seen from the GA as well). But I think we all just need to take a moment and wait for a clear head once our emotions have died down a bit.

For starters, it's an ensemble show - if you were watching it solely for one character, were you really enjoying the show? I'm not quite sure how you could be enjoying any episodes where that character is in the background while someone else is in the spotlight if that was the case.

Secondly, and most importantly, a main character dying is not abnormal for a TV show, especially a procedural (I'll go into this a bit more later). In fact, the fact that 911 is now approaching its 9th season and up until now has had no major character changes since the end of season 1/start of season 2 is in fact abnormal (I'm talking about central, primarily 118/first responder characters here. Yes I know Michael left in Season 5, but I feel he was a main in very much the same way that Chris is a main - they were/are in the show enough to be classified as more than a recurring, but they aren't central to the plot most of the time and are easily left out of episodes, much like Karen). Most shows, particularly ones that have a long shelf life, get that way by rotating characters to keep stories fresh. And I love 911, but let's face it, one of the last "new" storylines was Buck realising he was bi. Everything else has mostly been a rehash/repeat of old storylines (Madney pregnancy, Henren family troubles, Eddie's inability to move on from Shannon, Bobby and the fire that killed his family etc).

And yes, I get that if they wanted to write Bobby off, they could have had him just retire, except for one small problem - his wife is also a main. Having Athena around but Bobby somehow disappearing off the face of the planet and never interacting with anyone else again, especially with Buck who is like a son to him, would have the same vibe as Grace not being around in the final season of Lonestar - very strange and off putting and overall doesn't feel right.

Now, back to main characters dying/leaving in TV shows, particularly procedurals. It happens all the time and has been going on for decades. And guess what? Despite losing beloved characters, those shows continued, some for many years after the fact. Here are some examples: Dr Greene in ER, one of the fans' favourite characters on that show, died in Season 8 - ER finally finished after FIFTEEN seasons. Derek Sheppard in Grey's Anatomy died in Season 11 - they are now up to season 21. Here in Australia, Maggie Doyle was killed in Season 7 of the immensely popular police show Blue Heelers, which ended after 13 seasons. All of these characters were original mains who were around from day 1 of their respective shows and very much loved. They were considered an important part/the heart/the backbone of the shows they were in, and people cried out that the shows would not survive without them. They did.

Now, regarding 911, it all comes down to the writing whether 911 can weather the storm they have created and come out stronger. Many of us have had our criticisms, but if this is the kick up the arse that the show needed and all of a sudden we're back to getting more rescues, more recurring characters (the disappearance/vastly reduced screen time of many secondary characters over the years I feel has hurt the show as it's made it rather insular by only focusing on the 118) and new story lines? If people are willing to give the show a chance, it might very well surprise us and be worth the watch.

Not to mention, there's no guarantee we won't ever see Bobby again. This show has not been afraid to use flashbacks (the Begins episodes anyone?) and if we ever did say a Tommy Begins episode, that could very well involve Bobby as he was his Captain for a significant period of time. Or they could go the Lonestar route, in which Bobby could appear in a coma dream, or (for example) if Buck and Tommy get married or have kids, have the spirit of Bobby watching over them (like they had with TK and his mum at the wedding). I mean, Tim found a way to bring back the actress who played Shannon, even though Shannon died 6 seasons ago - I'm sure if Peter was willing he could find a way to bring Bobby back if he wanted to (not saying they should do a Bobby doppleganger though - once is enough).

Look, I love the show. Has it been perfect? Of course not. Have there been times when I thought, "Oh, this has pissed me off, do I want to keep watching?" Yup (when Maddie and Chim decided to break up was my first, the BuckTommy break up, the second), but I still stuck around because at the end of the day it's one of the few shows I actually enjoy watching - it's quirky, it's fun (usually) and I love ALL the characters. I'm going to miss Bobby, sure, but I'm going to keep giving the show a chance - there are still so many things I want to see! I want Buck to not only get back together with Tommy but finally experience a stable relationship and see where that ultimately leads (crossing fingers for an engagement at some point!). I want to see if Hen takes over the Captain role, and if so, the challenges she has to face taking over from someone as influential as Bobby. I want Chim to have a meaty storyline again! (He was my OG favourite of the show before Buck stole my heart.) And Athena; oh I want to see how she handles her loss - Angela Bassett, the actress that she is, will KILL that story line.

My only hope is that there aren't so many people who decide to abandon the show and the ratings plummet, which triggers a cancellation. I know people are upset, but I hope that in the two weeks until the next episode, once the shock isn't as strong and the emotions aren't running high, people will have calmed down enough to give the show a chance to prove they were right in going in this direction. Because, and call me selfish for wanting this, while I understand tv shows don't last forever, I'm not ready to leave this one behind just yet. I'm not saying people should be forced to watch the show if they don't want to - if it is genuinely making you unhappy and you're not enjoying it, by all means, stop watching. But if people are making the decision to abandon the show based on this one thing, all I ask is for people to stop and take a breath. Give the show one last shot to see where they go from here. If you don't like the direction it's going, then feel free to abandon ship, I certainly wouldn't blame you.

All I'm asking is for the audience to at least give it a chance.

[bone-trash]

COD Headcanons #4

T4T Interlude

Simon and Johnny both being trans but having very different gender experiences growing up

CW: queer/trans sex written by a queer/trans author, references to surgery (it’s not too bad I’m just nervous)

Soap’s a tomboy and the youngest of 5 girls and registers as a very differently type of kid early on for his parents

Rough and tumble, scraped knees, skateboarding, the girls football team at school, climbing up really high and just jumping off for the sheer adrenaline

Mum has to make him wear a bra and it’s a huge fight

The Mohawk also could have been a fight but she cuts her losses on that one

By 16 he’s shagging just about anyone who offers but never brings anyone home so Mrs MacTavish makes a discreet drs appointment and lets him know where prophylactics can be found; she’s a Catholic, not an idiot

He dives into transition with the same speed and enthusiasm he does everything else, within a year of finding out what a trans person is he’s on T and booked for top surgery

He’s not the type to hide anything about himself and sometimes forgets people don’t know he’s trans, this is how Gaz found out

Definitely a Top, getting fucked feels great but if you want to make that happen there’s going to be some (fun) tussling and he’s probably stronger than you.

——

Ghost was always tall and thin and kind of weird, his long straw like hair covering most of his face long before he took to wearing masks

Spent a lot of time looking after Tommy and just trying to survive his shitty home life so gender didn’t come up right away for him

Being tall and thin with a pretty small chest he got “mistaken” for a boy a lot and that never really bothered him the way maybe it should have

Got as much surgery as the military allowed him to (top surgery - keyhole) and experimented with T he bought illegally online

Has a phalloplasty and his arm tattoos conceal the scar

Demi-sexual (aka Johnny-sexual) and craves a lot of physical intimacy (not always sexual)

Needy-ass Bottom, Service Top if you want. Really likes being bossed (and tossed) around/talked through it and he bruises like a peach.

——

They clock each other immediately…well kind of (Simon doesn’t know that Johnny knows he’s trans too, at first)

To be fair Johnny is kind of a type of trans man, loud and shorter than average and well muscled and it takes a Simon a minute to realize that yes he is attracted to him, Fuck.

Simon is not as easily picked out by someone not trans, he’s been stealth a long time and his height does him a lot of favors as does his voice but he’s got a vibe that Johnny picks up on right away

Simon the kind of person that sexual assumptions are made about, he likes to think that he’s a flexible partner but usually balks when he’s approached by a stranger for down time

When they finally crash into one another Simon tries to explain that he can be whatever Johnny needs and he needs him to know that Simon’s like him and that this isn’t some fetish thing

Johnny blinks for a couple of seconds before saying “Love, why dae ye think ah’m here?” And tackling the big man onto the bed behind them and taking him apart

——

Hey! So this one is a little different I know but I had alot of fun writing it! Lots of credit needs to go @monsterpegger001 for helping me with some lovely ideas! T4T Ghoap is a force of nature and it took me days to do it justice. Love yall! ✌️💀

[bisnes-socks]

Dr. Professor I have a question. Maybe it has been talked about before and I had missed forgot it, is there any correlation between English articles and Finnish language? Ik Finnish doesn't have articles, but maybe there are context clues?

In other words, does Jere have any reason to keep saying "The Bojan"?

Anon, have you been spying on me? Can you read my mind? Because I have been thinking about The Bojan a lot lately. Mostly trying to figure out if he uses the article for literally anyone else, and I honestly cannot, of the top of my head, think of examples of him using The in front of anyone elses name as consistently as he does with Bojan.

So here's the thing. There basically isn't any correlation between Finnish and English articles, and so I cannot like point to a specific thing that would make him do that. But I can guess at the connections he makes.

I think sometimes he uses it to translate Finnish words like "toi", which is a spoken language/colloquial version of "tuo", literally translating to "that" in English. There isn't like a direct equivalent in English to use as an example of why we use "toi" like that, because like, "that Bojan" is not the same vibe as "toi Bojan".

Instances where i think this would make sense are moments like:

"Who did you connect with in Eurovision?"

"The Bojan."

If the conversation was in colloquial Finnish, it would not sound out of place of him to say something like "toi, tota, Bojan."

It's like a filler word, spoken out loud it can even be sort of drawn out (almost like just to make a sound, like "umm") but it's one that you would use when you can reasonably assume the listener knows the person you're talking about (at least in his regional dialect, i know some dialects might use it differently, but i speak the same dialect as him and this is my feeling on it.)

Which takes us to how articles in English are taught to us: the is to be used, instead of a or an, when we're already familiar with the subject. A cat is "a cat" only once in a story, before turning into "the cat".

So, i think he keeps saying The Bojan, because he simply assumes everyone knows who Bojan is. Bojan doesn't need an introduction or a qualification. Others get titles or explanations: "my sister wife Alessandra" or "my friend Joost", "manager Jesse" or "guitar man Jukka"... everyone else gets a title that explains who they are to him. Bojan doesn't need that, and Jere seems to have a reason to believe everyone knows who Bojan is. So he's not just any random Bojan. He is The Bojan, you know the one. And if you don't, you should.

[drabbletron]

Rodimus my sweet bb you don’t need to out do anyone we love you AHHH

Anyways I love the soft side of him you write, he’s so sweet and I just wanna gift him a teddy bear and see his face light up damnit

Love the bonded ‘now I feel your pain’ vibes, I think it would be cute if it went the other way too, since you’re bonded now you two feel the good sensations, and no I don’t mean only nsfw, (though that is a thought to explore hmm) like a deep tissue massage? They normally can’t get them bc of their plating- I imagine he gives his partner a massage while their on their period after learning it helps and is just like “holy PRIMUS this is good” lmao

I'm glad I could do him some justice! He I feel would need a lot of love and for someone to really see him for himself, not the self-centered ass he can be or the guy who isn't Optimus.

I'm sure that sharing sensations could be a thing, but I imagine it happening when the feeling is super intense like agonizing pain, incredible joy, deepest sorrow, especially for an organic and a bot. It may even happen less often because of the difference in species.

Lately I've also been exploring the idea of being able to feel a bot's EM field in the same way one can feel static electricity or the crackling of touching an old pot-belly tv set. I think there's a lot to play with in terms of exploring alien biology here.

I saw this post about how cleaning a computer can be rather intimate if you subscribe to the objectum subculture on the internet (tl;dr: being attracted to inanimate objects like machinery or computers), I was thinking about doing a fic where reader is asked to help clean their bot s/o's inner workings in that same way. It'd be like a sensory play type deal that involves a lot of trust and it could be akin to wire play or almost spark play. Or maybe the bot's s/o has a custom built PC and they walk in on them taking it apart and carefully and oh so delicately cleaning and repairing the insides.

The human doesn't know that this is an intimate thing for them and mayhaps the bot does or does not tell them. Or even it could be something that brings up the topic of other, non-sticky sexual interfacing that they could explore. It could even be non-sexual in the way that cleaning your s/o can be relaxing for them and even yourself.

I'm rambling, but there are so many different ways that could go and stuff like that is even referenced in Alex Milne's Hot Motor Oil and Beast Wars (both have mentions of removing chest plating being erotic to a degree).