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hyukalyptus · 2 months

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or else what? —hueningkai x fem!reader | enemies to enemies with benefits(?). NSFW/MDNI!

cw. mean dom!kai, reader and kai are mean to each other, feat. soob and yj and their partners for a very short amount of time (not in smut part tho), camping, reader is a type A boss bitch kinda person, mentions of rain, kissing, hair pulling, mean names (slut, stupid, dumb, loser), pet names (baby), sex, light restraining, ruined orgasms, biting, nipple play, some dacryphilia, maybe a lil bit of publicness? (theyre at a campsite but implied no one else can hear anything), creampie, reader is embarrassed that she did stuff w kai and tells him, reader has a dog, reader is good at video games, chubby!reader implied, lmk if i missed anything! notes. im usually not one for mean stuff, im way more of a softie, so i tried something new but im quite nervous about it. oh! and this is based off a thought i posted the other week. lmk what ya think ;) smut under cut. wc. 4.1K

“Why are you being nice to him?” You snap at your dog who is currently greeting your friends at your front door. Normally, you wouldn’t mind, of course, but they have taken a particular liking for Kai. Apparently, you’re the only person in the world that hates him. Kai that is. The constant laughing, the sickeningly sweet optimism, and his sheer humility—it all screams fake to you.

You hate every little thing about him and he hates you right back. The way you disagree with everything he says just because, how you’re always pointing out when he’s wrong, how you seem to be depressingly pessimistic. You put up with each other for the sake of your friends—not everyone in every friend group has to get along, right?

“Nice to see you too.”

“Someone separate them please?” Soobin asks. “I can’t deal with another argument right now.” He rubs his temple out of caution.

Everyone’s over for a game night—Soobin, his partner, River, as well as Yeonjun, and your best friend, Sage, who has been in an on-again-off-again relationship with him since they met. Right now, they’re off, but definitely still friendly.

“How about some Smash Bros?”

“No,” you say to Kai. “Mario Kart.”

“River and I have been talking about playing Smash Bros all day.”

“Not my problem.”

“How about we take a vote?” He suggests. You reluctantly agree, watching as you’re the only one that raises your hand to play Mario Kart before you glare at Sage, guilting them into voting for it too. Regardless of their vote, though, it’s still four against two. Kai sticks out his tongue at you just to rub it in your face. God, you hate it when he wins.

“Maybe you should stop pouting,” Sage says, nudging your shoulder. “Beat him in the next round. You know you’re better than anyone here.” You take the opportunity to easily—and quickly—beat Kai in a one-on-one match. Now it’s his turn to pout while he grabs a snack.

Luckily, everyone makes it through the night without any blood or tears shed but when the group’s annual camping trip comes up, the cold weather mixed with the prolonged close proximity to people leads to a grumpy Kai arguing with an even grumpier you.

The reason behind the initial argument is long forgotten—you’re seemingly arguing over anything and everything from you stopping too often to take pictures to him taking sips from your water bottle, which he insists was an accident. Everyone’s keeping you two as far apart from each other as possible, with him leading the pack and you bringing up the rear.

“It looks like it’s gonna rain soon,” River points out. “We should probably set up camp.” Everyone agrees, setting sights for the campsite.

“What do you think about this spot over here, Sage?” You ask but are immediately answered with the guiltiest look from them, eyes glancing between you and Yeonjun. “Don’t tell me.” You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day. “You’re back together?” You ask quietly.

“Please don’t be mad,” they say. “It’s going really well this time.”

“I didn’t bring another tent.”

“Kai’s tent is huge,” Sage says, loud enough for Kai to hear, as if they’re making a suggestion to him. “Can she stay with you?”

“I thought Yeonjun was sleeping in my tent.”

“I was gonna stay in Sage’s,” Yeonjun responds, with an attempted wink. Everyone looks between each other, dodging each other’s eyes, no one wanting to give in. Everyone’s desperate to stay with their partners but you and Kai are desperate to not spend a single second alone together. Soobin and River won’t budge. Sage’s pleading eyes looking at you added to the pleading eyes Yeonjun sends Kai, you look at each other before he finally agrees—

“Fine,” Kai says, dropping the poles to the ground. “You gotta finish setting it up though. I’m gonna go get some water and refill the cooler with ice,” he says, leaving you with an impossible task. There’s a reason you didn’t bring your own tent.

Struggling with the tent for at least thirty minutes, it’s even less put together than when Kai turned the task over to you. The two couples have snuggled into their tents for the night and the drizzle is quickly turning into a downpour. Soaked, cold, and annoyed, Kai’s making his way back to you, anger etched all over his face when he doesn’t have a dry tent to walk into.

“Do you not know how to put a tent up?”

“No, actually I don’t.”

“I could’ve set up three tents by now,” he says, but doesn’t have time to be much madder—he’s gotta get a roof over his own head. Without speaking, he takes over completely, getting it up in about ten minutes. It would’ve been quicker if he didn’t have to work in the rain.

Settling in, you try to dry the parts of the interior that got wet from the rain, but it doesn’t help much. He peels off his now-soaked shirt and searches for a dry one.

“Ah, that was my last t-shirt.”

“I’m sorry. I tried—”

“I don’t care,” he stops you, holding his hand up.

Falling silent, you change the subject, “What took you so long anyway?”

“I was talking to someone at the ice machine for a while,” he says matter-of-factly, holding up his laptop. “Wanna watch a movie before bed?”

“No.” You lay your head on the stupid camping pillow hoping for some rest. But your plan is disrupted by the blaring trumpets of a movie intro. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Watching a movie.”

“Turn it off.”

“I didn’t ask for permission to watch it,” he points out. “I asked if you wanted to join me.”

“Isn’t it gonna bother the other campers?”

“Doubt they can hear it.”

Frustrated, you roll over and cover your ears. You thought you could sleep through anything, especially with the rain pouring outside, but you were wrong. Eventually, you give up, throwing your pillow down and slamming his laptop shut.

“What are you doing? You asshole—” he snaps, glaring at you.

“Me? You’re the ass for not letting me sleep,” you fire back, narrowing your eyes.

“I wasn’t supposed to have you in here anyway,” he mutters.

“I’m not an asshole,” you say defensively.

“Yes, you are,” he spits. “You always have to have it your way.”

“I’m not having this argument with you,” you say, turning away and trying to block out his escalating anger. You pull the thin camping blanket over your head, desperate for some peace.

He huffs, clearly frustrated, but you ignore it. The sound of rain tapping against the tent becomes your only solace. Minutes pass in silence, each second stretching longer than the last. You can feel his restless energy beside you, the tension almost palpable.

“I can't believe you. You're so annoying,” he says.

You simply lay there, trying to block out the muttering under his breath. The stickiness of the damp sleeping bags and the cold camping pillow are ridiculously uncomfortable.

Remembering the clean, dry blankets you have stored in the trunk of your car for emergencies and you get up to grab them silently, ignoring his insults. Returning with them, his eyes light up and he asks, “Where did you get those?”

“My car,” you answer nonchalantly, setting up your new bed. You try to salvage what you can of the sleeping bag to have some kind of barrier between the damp tent floor and your blanket, but it’s not perfect. Eventually settling on the makeshift bed, you can feel Kai staring at you through your closed eyelids. “Can I help you?” You ask without opening them.

“Aren’t you gonna share those with me?”

“Why would I?”

“You’re the one that got our other blankets and the tent all wet.”

“Not my fault you didn’t bring back-up.”

He exasperates, clearly done with you and all your…what does he call it? Selfish nonsense? “I can’t believe I have to share a tent with you. And you get it all wet in here and won’t even share the dry blankets with me?”

“You think I'm happy about this either?" Your arms flail before you go on one of your famous rants. “I don’t even like camping but I come along with Sage because they’re my best friend and I was looking forward to spending time alone with them to talk but because they decided to start fucking Yeonjun again I have to sleep in a tent with you, which you make me put together even though I don’t know how to put it together so its disgusting in here and you expect me to share my blankets with you? You’re never nice to me why the fuck would I share them with you? You’re always making me look like a bitch in front of everyone when I know you’re just—”

Kai suddenly yanks you by your elbow and says, “Would you please just shut up?”

Seeing him this mad…you don’t know if he’s ever looked like this. Red in the face, eyebrows furrowed, not to mention he’s still shirtless since all his clothes are soaked. You look over his body—you’ve never seen him before—and you realize just how muscular he is. Broad-shouldered, defined pecs and ripples in his arms, particularly the one gripping you so harshly.

You smirk at him before saying, “Make me." Looking over your face, he doesn’t know what comes over him. Maybe it's anger or frustration or the ambiance from the sound of rain against the tent and the small camping lamp, but he can’t help it.

Crashing his lips into yours, you’re taken by surprise. You feel the power his plush lips give off, but only for a second before you push him off.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I don’t–I don’t know, I, uh…” He stutters, trying to find something—anything—to say, but no luck. Looking at each other, something clicks like we need to have each other now.

You pull him to you by cupping his cheeks and crashing your lips into his quickly, eagerly, desperately. Hands in his hair, his on your hips, he squeezes your chubby thighs, wanting more, but—

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s happening? You and I are making out?” He asks, shock etched across his face as his eyebrows furrow.

“Well, not anymore.” You look at him confused. “Did you forget you’re the one that kissed me first?”

“That was just so you’d shut up.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want me. I see you staring at my tits all the time.” You smirk at him and his eyes shift, admitting guilt. Realization hits you. “...Is that why you’re such an ass to me? Because you’re sexually frustrated whenever you’re around me? Do you…like me?”

“No,” he says defensively. “I hate you actually. You’re so annoying.” He rolls his eyes. “But the most annoying part about you is how much I wanna fuck you.” Your eyes widen, but a smile slowly spreads across his face before he asks, “Is that why you’re such an ass to me?” Leaning in closer, he examines your face, looking for any sign of weakness. “It is, isn’t it?” You shake your head. “Say it.”

“Kai.”

“I wanna hear you say you want me.”

The quickest, most disingenuous, “I want you,” comes out of your mouth. Did you really just say that? It’s not like you haven’t noticed how handsome he’d gotten recently, but it’s also not like you’ve ever thought about doing anything. Before tonight, the thought of him even touching you made your skin crawl. But right now, you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone more. Reaching for him, you add, “Now shut up and fuck me.”

Still shirtless from when he peeled off the wet fabric a few minutes ago, he tugs at the hem of your tank top. Slipping it off you, his eyebrows raise at your bare chest—full and needing to be squeezed, which he does immediately. Your nipples perky and hard from arousal and the cool air are simply begging to be sucked. His warm, welcoming and wet lips wrapped around one elicit a sound from you that you hope is covered by the rain outside.

The others would never let you live it down if they heard you two fucking.

Mouths all over—his on your nipples and your collarbone, yours on his mouth and his shoulders—it’s a whirlwind of kisses and pure lust.

“I hate you,” you murmur, adding a nice hair tug for good measure.

“I hate you too,” he responds. “So much.” The tent, damp from the rain and hot breath warms you up, skin slick with a sheen of sweat. Sleeping bags and blankets ruffle underneath your bodies as you rush to undress each other fully. “You’re so fucking stupid,” he says against your ear. “Don’t even know how to put up a tent. Need my help for everything?”

“You’ve never been any help to me,” you respond. “Plus, we wouldn’t have gotten rained on so much if you didn’t get lost leading everyone. Need your phone for everything? Can’t even handle one short hike? Good for nothing,” you spit. “Except…you’re kind of a good kisser.”

“Wish I could say the same about you.”

“Don’t lie,” you smirk. “I’m an incredible kisser.” He may roll his eyes but he heads straight back for more. “But you’re taking too long. Hurry up,” you say between kisses. Grazing his hand down your hip, he slides two fingers between your pussy lips and—

“You’re that wet for me and I’ve barely even touched you? Desperate slut.” You grab his cock, making him jerk forward, his mouth dropping open.

“You’re already that hard and I’ve barely even touched you? Horny loser.” Without warning, he lines himself up at your entrance and shoves his cock inside you, forcing a yelp from your throat.

Covering your mouth, he leans down, gracing his lips over your earlobe before whispering, “You never shut the fuck up, do you?” And he’s relentless. Fucking you fast and hard, whispering mean, dirty shit in your ear, shivers rolling down your spine at every syllable. “You don’t deserve to feel this good.”

“And you think you deserve this pussy?” You fire right back. Although, he does seem to be winning with the sheer amount of moaning coming from your mouth compared to his controlled sounds and expert movements. You try your best to compose yourself before saying, “A dumb fuck like you doesn’t deserve to even touch my skin.”

“Is that why you gasp when I pinch your nipples?” He asks. You narrow your eyes at him. But he definitely proves himself right. Rolling your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb, basking in the chills it gives you, clearly sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body. You reach to touch his broad chest but he stops you. “Nuh-uh. Hands to yourself,” he says, gripping your wrists harshly and pinning them to the ground.

Suddenly, you’ve never wanted to touch someone more in your life. The way his skin glistens, muscles looking so strong, a bead of sweat drips between his pecs and you swear you clit twitches. Honestly, you’re in shock. What do you usually do with your hands? Since when has he been like this? An absolute slut? A mean slut at that. But you love it.

Your hands stay at your side after he moves to squeeze your body again but you can’t help but reach up—you’re desperate to touch him. He halts, lifting his fingers off your tits.

“Every time you try to touch me without permission, I’ll stop touching you,” he says. You surrender, putting your hands under your back. “Good girl.”

Fuck. That felt nice too. Being degraded is one thing, but getting rewarded for following directions? That’s delicious. Heat rushes to your ears.

“Please—”

“Ah,” he places his pointer finger over your lips. “I told you to shut up, didn’t I?” You make a show of keeping your mouth closed. “You learn so fast, hm?” You smile—a genuine giddy smile. “So cute,” he whispers, placing a thumb on your clit, circling it gently.

But when a weak little, “Fuck,” slips out of your mouth, he stops.

“Did I say you could speak?” You shake your head. Running a thumb across the apple of your cheek, he gives you a look somewhere between my pathetic little slut and you’re being such a good girl for me.

Keeping your mouth shut, your body is in complete bliss, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure his cock and hands are giving you. You’re positively drunk on his cock, letting him do whatever he wants to you—touch you here, lick and bite you there, kiss on this, suck on that—not only to be his good little slut, but because it feels fucking incredible. He knows what he’s doing, you’ll give him that.

Then you feel it, your orgasm is slowly approaching, every move he makes pushes you closer and closer to the edge. And he knows it. The little whimpers you make, trying to hold back. The twitches your clit makes. The pulses of your pussy.

“Aw,” he starts condescendingly. “Is my good little slut gonna come for me?” You nod rapidly, being sure to keep your mouth shut and movements under control. The last thing you want right now is a punishment. Or maybe it’s the thing you want most? The lines are too blurred to tell. “Say it.”

You can barely mumble it, but you manage to croak out, “You’re gonna make me come, Kai.”

“Good girl.” He doesn’t change a single thing. It creeps closer and closer until you can feel your body start to tip over. And then he does something…expected? Surprising? Honestly, you’re not so sure anymore. He stops, your orgasm so close to crashing over you, ruined by this son of a bitch.

Tears form in your eyes. Was he really doing this to you? This annoying, stupid fucking jerk you’ve hated for years making you cry over his cock?

“That’s for being such a goddamn nuisance since the day I met you.”

What do you do now? Be a jerk to him? Overpower him and pin him down? Sit there like a hole needing to be fucked? You decide to go for the last option, hoping he’ll make you come as fast as he can. Although, truthfully, you feel like one swipe across your clit would make you finish you at this point.

“Tell me you don’t deserve me.” You keep your mouth shut. Gently wrapping his fingers around your throat, you stare at his eyes. He chuckles like he’s proud of you before he says, “You may speak.”

“I don’t deserve you.” He squeezes harder, almost like he’s saying that’s not enough. “I don’t deserve to feel this good. I don’t deserve your cock. I don’t deserve…anything.”

“Good girl.” He loosens his grip around your throat. He’s done with his fun now. The ache in both of your bodies is getting unbearable and he’s determined to make you come first. Which he supposes he already did, despite ruining it for you. But he’s gotta get you back to that place before he gets there first.

Returning to the hard and fast pace of fucking you like he was a few minutes ago, his cock slams in and out and out of your pussy, ripples running down your thighs, ass, tits, everywhere. He stares in awe of your perfect tits bouncing in rhythm with his thrusts.

Your mouth opens and closes like you want to say something, but if you speak without permission, he may stop. You decide to take a chance anyway.

“Kai…” you squeak out through the rough movements. He responds with a sweet yet sinister smile that says you may speak. “You are gonna let me come, right?”

His eyebrows furrow, face full of pity. He asks, “You think I should?”

“You better or I’ll…” You trail off.

“You’ll what?” He stops moving, therefore earning a pathetic whine from you, trying to protest without words. “What are you gonna do to me?”

Now what’s a good punishment for him? Clearly, he’s used to being the one punishing his sexual partners—you wonder how his other subs have dealt with him being a jerk. You don’t want to overpower him like you thought you did. There’s something about being pinned down like this, letting him do whatever he wants, not having to move an inch. You’re such a powerful woman everywhere else—the type A personality type, which you admit can get overwhelmingly exhausting.

Letting someone take full control over you like this—it’s relaxing. You wonder how much he’s enjoying himself but you notice the way his eyes flutter when you simply tighten your pussy around his cock, how he hasn’t stopped touching you since you finally let him, hell, he kissed you first. Of course he’s enjoying this. And bingo—you’ve got just enough control to get what you want.

“I’ll never let you fuck me like this again.”

Narrowing his eyes at you, it's like he knows that you caught him in the act of something. Cocking his head to the side, he asks, “We can’t let that happen, now can we?”

Somehow, the energy shifts to be even more desperate. Taking out years and years of frustration from hating each other while simultaneously wanting to have sex. Fucking as fast as your bodies will let you, the tent fills with the absolutely obscene noises coming from your mouths. The only reason you aren’t holding back is because the rain beating against the plastic tent and the occasional thunder thankfully covers most of it.

When one of his thumbs finds your clit, you feel like you’re floating. The air falls out of your lungs, pleasure taking over your body as you relax into your orgasm. You’re drunk, high on his cock and the only thing you’re seeing are stars and that stupid smirk plastered across his face. It rips through your body like lightning, shooting out your toes and fingertips.

“Talk to me,” he says breathlessly in your ear. But you can’t. You can only manage strangled noises to let him know you’re having an incredible orgasm.

Coming down from your high, though, you finally say, “Fuck, that felt so good.”

“Tell me how good.”

“You made me feel so…so fucking good, Kai,” you say, shaking your head, unsure of what else to tell him. Call it post-nut clarity, but why the hell were you having sex with him again? Honestly, who cares? He’s actually pretty hot and he’s damn good at this too. What happens after this? Enemies with benefits? Never mention it again? You make a note to come back to this with him later. But right now, you need to get to the matter at hand. “Why don’t you tell me how good I feel?”

“Oh baby, you feel so good,” he says. “Your pussy might be the only thing I like about you.” He chuckles, his mouth dropping open, undeniably close to his own orgasm. “Well, maybe your pussy and your tits.” Burying his face between them, he bites down on the plush, groaning against your skin.

“I need you to come inside me, Kai. Please.”

“Keep talking to me like that.”

And you do. Giving him praise, touching him in all the right places, putting on a show for him. With a few final thrusts, he groans, whispering something you don’t catch, but you feel it. Him coming inside you with a sexy groan, covering your chest in the sloppiest of kisses and bites.

Catching his breath, he whispers breathlessly, “Damn. That was good.” Sliding out of you, an awkwardness catches up with the two of you. You push yourself up on your elbows, attempting to gather your thoughts. His eyes are still dark with desire as he looks at you with a satisfied smirk.

“Listen,” you say, covering your chest with your blanket. “This can’t happen again.” His smile drops.

“What?”

“The fact that we did that,” you gesture between the two of you, “never leaves this tent, you hear me?” Cocking his head to the side, he nods awkwardly. “No one can find out about this. God, I’d be so embarrassed. Let’s just…get some sleep.”

Did you forget about what he said?

Or I’ll never let you fuck my like this again. Using that as a threat if he didn’t let you come meant you wanted to do it again, no? Slowly putting on his boxers again, he agrees, turning away from you to try and get some sleep but, all of a sudden, there’s too much on his mind.

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lnfours · 5 months

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lando is definitely the type to soften his voice around bestfriend!reader that hes totally in love with. and him and reader dont see it at all, but everyone else does. and he basically treats her like theyre dating except without the kisses. and max is fed up with the two bc everytime lando sees her, he texts max "shes so pretty i wanna kiss her all over" - 🍒anon

anon... did you know that friends to lovers is my favorite trope like... ever?? fear not, the friends to lovers connoisseur is back!!! another one where i got carried away 😅

requests are open!

the small get-together at max’s was the highlight of the night, everyone joined together in the living room for drinks, food and games. you had found yourself seated next to lando on the couch, his hip pressed against yours from how close you were. ria on the other side of you, laughing as you watched niran pick up 6 uno cards.

max watched the way you two interacted, the way lando kept one hand draped around the back of the couch near your shoulders and how your body had slotted right into his side. it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to be close, but as of recently, the distance between the two of you kept getting smaller and smaller. his voice was softer, hugs lasted longer, eye contact ended with soft smiles and glances down at the floor.

he had known his best friend was obsessed with you the moment you met, immediately asking max for your instagram when you had met. the real giveaway was the countless texts about how he ‘wanted to kiss your face all over’ whenever you showed up at races wearing his number or dressed head to toe in papaya. that’s when he knew his best friend was head over heels.

“uno,” you smiled, holding your card close to your chest so others couldn’t see. everyone started cursing themselves, not believing the fact that you were so close to winning the game. lando leaned his head closer or you, trying to catch a peek at your card. he poked at your side, trying to get you to squirm so he could see, but you held it even closer and laughed, pushing him away.

“stop trying to cheat!” you laughed, pulling his hands from your side.

he wore the cutest smirk, “i’m not trying to cheat!”

“liar,” you joked back. max snorted softly, placing the card down in the pile. now it was lando’s turn and he had nothing to give away except a red four, which was going to let you win the game, unbeknownst to him.

you threw your arms up, tossing the card onto the table and happily cheering as everyone groaned softly, “i win, bitches!”

“that’s not even fair! how’d you win after having 25 cards?!”

“i’m just good like that,” you smiled, turning to the boy next to you and motioning to his empty glass, “want another drink?”

he nodded, passing you the glass with a smile, “thank you.”

you hummed, ria popping up from the couch after you, “i need another one too.”

with you gone in the kitchen, now it was time for the interrogating to start. aarav speaking up first, “so mate, when’re you going to tell her you’re head over heels?”

“i don’t think he even has to say it,” ethan joked, “it’s pretty obvious.”

“don’t know what you’re talking about,” the curly haired brit said, helping max gather up the cards. the boys chuckled softly as max shook his head.

“you’re wasting time, mate!” niran said, “everyone knows you’re in love, just get on with it already.”

lando looked at his friend for help, but max shrugged, “they’re right. you have hearts in your eyes whenever she’s around.”

he was about to open his mouth to respond when yours and rias giggles sounded back into the room. you took your spot back next to lando, crossing your legs under you. he smiled at you as everyone got the table cleaned up for the movie that was up next on tonight’s agenda.

you leaned into lando’s shoulder, watching max fail at entering his password on the streaming service and laughing at his frustration. once everything was set up and everyone was comfortable, he reached over and turned the lamp off on the end table. you reached behind you, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over you and lando, scooting closer into his body as he wrapped an arm around you.

about forty minutes into the move, you felt lando’s head lean on yours before his lips came close to your ear, “you comfortable?”

you nodded, turning to meet his eyes in the dim lighting. you smiled, reaching up and brushing the stray curl from his forehead, “yeah, you?”

he nodded, “so comfortable i could sleep.”

you chuckled, “sleep, then. pretty sure almost everyone are already knocked out.”

he glanced down at the floor where his friends sat, their eyes closed. he looked over at max who was on his phone, paying no mind to the movie. your long haired brunette friend next to you had fallen asleep too, her cheek pressed against the arm of the couch.

lando tucked his face into your hair, “wanna go to bed?”

you nodded, “let’s go.”

the two of you stood up, you draping the blanket over ria as lando whispered to his best friend, “we’re going to bed, mate.”

max nodded, “i’ll probably be up in a little while.”

lando nodded back, following you up the stairs. you opened the door to your shared guest room, him closing the door softly. you slipped into the connected bathroom, grabbing your toothbrush from your toiletry bag. you smiled as you met the familiar pair of green eyes in the mirror, his hands wrapping around your middle before he reached for his own toothbrush. you smiled at him in the mirror, the both of you finishing up before you spun around, pressed against the counter as your hands went up to his unruly curls from the blowing wind in london.

“you need a brush.”

“and i need you in bed,” he said, dragging you with him as he turned off the light and climbed into bed. you joined him under the covers, your cheek resting against his chest as he held you close. he played with your hair as you drew circles into the material of his soft cotton shirt. you tilted your head up to look at him, his eyes meeting yours as he looked down at you.

“is it true?” you asked and continued when he pulled his eyebrows together, “what the guys were talking about earlier? about you liking me?”

he swallowed, racking his brain. surely he couldn’t back peddle now, and how could he lie to you? he couldn’t. so he told the truth, “yeah,”

you smiled softly, “knew it.”

“i wasn’t that obvious!” he argued with a laugh, “i like to think i’ve been very subtle!”

“as subtle as they get,” you joked, reaching up and placing your thumb against his bottom lip, “i like you too, lan.”

he smiled, lifting your chin with his index finger and thumb, pulling you up to him before he pressed his lips to yours. you kissed him back, the kiss breaking shortly after from fits of giggles and wide smiles. a new sense of love in the air between you two.

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psychhound · 21 days

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the more i dm vs play other ttrpgs the more frustrated i get with how npcs work in 5e. my game centers around a small town with a recurring cast of npcs, as well as newly introduced npcs each arc that my players frequently adopt, and every time i open my Documents (tone: weary) filled with npcs i just wish 5e npcs were Built Different(tm) to pcs. obviously theres statblocks and stuff you can use but if youre working under the assumption these npcs are Full People who are going to take up space in the pcs lives youre going to be building them like you would a pc and frankly it sucks for a couple reasons

one, if i want to introduce a new batch of npcs of a level that will prove imposing for my pcs to fight, it shouldnt take me 10 hours to make them. two, once the fight is happening it would be great if they didnt have so many abilities and spells that im just hoping and praying i can make them function even a little smartly without grinding the whole fight to a halt every time its a spellcasters turn

and third, which i think deserves its own paragraph(s), i wish npcs didnt have the same set of skills that pcs get

i like trying to give my guys, pcs or npcs alike, pretty high mods on things, bc, you know, good for the game and also big numbers fun. but some skills are either inherently useless for an npc to have, or imply a loss of player agency if i was rolling them

like, charisma skills. deception is really useful for an npc to have, because then pcs have to roll insight against it to learn information. persuasion, however, is not something an npc should really ever roll. if theyre rolling persuasion on a pc, that player is experiencing a loss of agency over how their pc reacts to a request. if theyre rolling it on another npc, youre now just playing dollies with yourself while the pcs watch. if im ever choosing between persuasion and deception for an npc, im always going to give them proficiency in deception even if that makes less sense for their character. same problem for intimidation. either youre telling the pcs how to feel or playing dollies with yourself

stealth and sleight of hand are overall way more helpful for npcs than for pcs who arent rogues. and perception is far more useful for an npc to have than like ... survival. when are your npcs going to be rolling survival? if you have a ranger or ranger-like character whos helping your pcs navigate wilderness then why does it make more sense for them to be rolling survival and potentially mess up something they are meant to be good at, causing potentially unfun complications for your party, than just ... knowing that character can help them navigate, so they do? especially if thats the reason that npc is there?

idk like my players respond very well to the npcs being Full People and i do think theres a level of enjoyment to like. comparing pc and npc stats or players learning what feats an npc took or lore around subclasses but also. also im so miserly and decrepit and my google doc of my four bad guys this arc and their spells is 59 pages long im Tired Save Me

#dnd #dnd 5e #i love playing dnd. and i love the game that i run. i dont love running dnd.#its simply not a good system to run for so many reasons #i feel like i run a good game from like. years of original storytelling and improv experience and a large amount of homebrew #and absolutely nothing about the system itself. very frequently fighting the system itself #(before anyone says just switch this game has been going for years and is very entrenched in the fact that its dnd)#(both in characters and also the world and lore)#(but good lord will i not be running dnd again when this game eventually ends)#(getting my grubby little hands on something pbta or fitd maybe)#if any of my players see this i am only filled with immense love for our game but i tried to look up something on cavs sheet earlier #and felt my old man soul withering a bit so #This Post.

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opal-owl-flight · 4 months

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Welp cue Neo 3 getting themselves in so much danger that 3 has to save their dumb a*s.

HAPPY BIGGEST RUN!! Guess it kicks off the high action segment of the Neo3 arc :)

(this ask has been sitting in my inbox awhile.)

Neo3 refers to working with Agent 7 and going undercover in Grizzco during the biggest run.

more notes on what transpires in the biggest run below!! Id draw more of this out but Im v tired wdkefk

Before the comic above, there is the matter of pre-biggest run preparations.

"|We'll have to protect right on our home base.|" signs the captain, their eyes steely and cold. "|We have to evacuate everyone.|"

"Aye aye. But I beg to ask -- how are we supposed to protect our identities?"

3 clacks their beak.

"|Dont wear the uniforms. Let us appear like a legendary team taking initiative.|"

"I-if I must suggest, Captain."

They turn to face the newly recruited Agent 7, whos shaking as he spoke. "...I-I can loan us all some Grizzco gear. Itd hide our identities really well."

"Ah, so we play into their game." Says Neo3, anger barely hidden in her half-snarling voice. "Id rather die than wear that."

"Then you can help Three find the root cause of that song theyre hearing." Says 4, "Since you can hear the dirge as much as the hordes can."

3 is so proud of their agents being so capable...

They nod their head. "|Sounds like a plan. Four, join Agent 7 in evacuating the citizens.|"

4 rolls her eyes, grabbing 7s arm. "I wont let you down. And Ill make sure Agent 7 here doesnt, either."

"Hey! Ow! Thats uncalled for! Raaain!!!"

--------

The comic takes place after the source(s) of the so called "Death Dirge"s locations are found (so its 3s next set of commands after the blurb above).

For context, Inkadia and the Splatlands had built infrastructure on migration routes for economical reasons or whatever and thought the salmonids a nuisance. Think of dams being built on irl salmon routes. Or cities being built on dangerous areas (volcanoes, fault lines, etc) and adapting to the danger. The mindset for big runs is "we'll deal with them when it happens." Instead of. Making room for them.

This biggest run is the biggest migration that uses a route thats been hasnt been used for several hundreds of years.

In the middle of the CITY.

Not only that, The Death Dirge is actually Grizzco using devices emmitting magnetic fields to attract BIG numbers and to make them all gather as close to the city as possible (like, attracting even the ones using the other migration routes/the other turf stages).

3 and Neo3 had found these sources and 3 set about dismantling them (alone for the first two, with Neo3 in the last since her task was accomplished). The last one however involved a mechanical defense system that includes a mech (which 3 had to use a well-placed special on to destroy, and as a consequence is very worn out after) and a harpoon trap system thats meant to catch whatever is messing with the devices without the permission to (Grizzco expected that some clever salmonid might get ideas). Thats why 3 gets GOT there...

Theres also 3 mentioning Neo3 getting caught. Grizzco has been interested in Neo3 awhile because of her salmonid-like adaptations.... but thats all I can say for now :)

As for Agent 8, shes in the Memverse by the time the biggest run happens. Having her own anguish abt the platoon being resolved separately before she returns in the middle of the chaos to help out. And also say what she needs to say to 3 and 4...

#splatoon #splatoon fanart #agent 3 #captain 3 #neo agent 3 #agent neo 3 #opal owl’s nest #big run #big big run #salmon run

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rose-pearls · 1 year

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mentor!finnick x tribute!fem!reader

maybe this is a year or two after finnicks victor

maybe reader had to be extremely brutal in the games and when they come back theyre covered in blood and just traumatized and finnick has to comfort them

Hi! Thank you for the request here it is, hopefully you like it!

The arena is in a blur in front of you, the last tribute dead at your feet while your hands tremble so much that the knife falls out of your hand.

“Hey, listen to me. Are you okay with having blood on your hands during the games?”, the words of Finnick come back to you and although you had assured him before, that it wouldn’t be an issue. You can’t seem to be able to hold back the want to wash your hands a thousand times at the sight of them.

There was blood on your hands, thick dark red blood from the female tribute of district one. But you knew that there wasn’t only her blood on your hands, blood of the other tributes you killed but also the ones she killed. In the end you had the blood of every dead tribute on your hands and suddenly you wished you could go back and tell him you couldn’t do it.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the 68th Hunger Games-”, they announce your name loud and clear but the only thing you can see is the blood, nothing else is making sense.

A helicopter sound makes you aware that you are still in the same spot as when you gave the female tribute the final blow and you look at her. The blond hair along her shoulder is covered in blood and her eyes are wide open, wounds litter her body just like yours, but she is dead, and you’re alive.

The strategy had been simple, entering the usual career pact and staying around for as long as needed, your district partner had died quite early and that had left you more defenseless in their eyes. You had found some poisonous plants and had decided to use them when cooking dinner, three careers died. The only survivor was the girl from one, but you hadn’t known that until the evening.

The rest of the games were a blur of killing people and nearly dying but somehow you made it, you had just won the Hunger Games. It should be a pride, that is why your parents had set you up at the academy in district four, and yet the only thing you felt was disgust.

If someone had to ask you if it was worth it winning the Hunger Games, you would tell them that it wasn’t. Not when you felt like you couldn’t breathe without seeing their faces, their pleading eyes to not kill them.

Someone helps you up the helicopter and you don’t what happens around you; voices are screaming everywhere, and people try to take the blood of your hand, but it seems difficult.

It had dried up on your skin, under your fingernails leaving a trace that even if they took it off of you, you would still remember it on your hands.

The door opens up as you leave the helicopter, not sure how you are even able to see or make your feet move but one voice manages to break through the daze.

“Hey! Hey!”, Finnick is looking at you with wide eyes, worry can be seen in them, but you aren’t able to read them like before. Too busy trying to wrap your head around all of the bodies that will be returned to their parents because of you.

Your knees buckle and you nearly fall to the ground before a panicked Finnick manages to catch you.

“Listen to me.”, his voice says clearly and after a moment you nod slowly.

“They are going to take you under, to heal your wounds and everything and after that we’ll talk. Alright?”, his tone is pleading, like he is willing you too go along with the plan so you just nod, just wanting everything to stop turning around in your mind.

A doctor comes to you, and you don’t hear what he is saying, looking at Finnick’s shoulder but you feel something puncturing your skin and you feel drowsy before falling on Finnick.

Everything is a blur when you wake up, the smell of hospital makes his way to your nose, and you try not to feel sick. You start moving your fingers before looking at your arm in surprise, the last time you had seen your arm it was open due to a knife wound but now it looked perfect. All the scars that you had during your childhood seemed to have been taken off your skin.

“They take off every scar you’ve ever had to make you look perfect as the winner.”, a soft voice says next to you, and you turn to see Finnick there.

“Hi.”, you manage to croak out and your mentor smiles at your attempt.

“Hi yourself. Here drink something and try to eat.”, he says and after giving you a glass of water and helping you drink it you turn towards a small plate of food, a frown appearing at the sight of it.

“It might look lite it’s nothing right now, but your stomach got smaller because of the games so you won’t be able to eat much.”, Finnick says after chuckling and you slowly start to eat, quickly feeling like your stomach is full and not being able to eat the rest like he had said.

“How are you feeling?”, he asks after a moment, looking unsure at the question.

“I don’t know.”, and it’s true, deep down you don’t know how you are feeling.

“I wanted to win, because it’s what I’ve been taught to do but the moment I won I felt like it wasn’t worth it at all.”, he nods at your words and looks at you sadly.

“it’s not going to be easy after the games, but I know you can do it.”, he tells you and you know he isn’t going to tell you everything just yet, so you sit back down.

“How do you sleep at night?”, you can’t help but ask after a moment, memories of the games coming back around, and you don’t know how you are going to survive the nights full of them.

“By trying, even though there will be nightmares I still try to sleep and sometimes it works but sometimes it doesn’t. Talking to people helps you but only for so long.”, you know he is trying to be honest with you and even though it hurts you can’t help but be grateful.

“I know what you feel like right now and I can’t tell you that every day will be easy, but I can tell you that you are not alone. You have your parents, Mags, the other victors and me.”, he whispers the last words a bit later and you turn to look at him.

“I think I realized that I cared more for you then I thought I did.”, you whisper and Finnick smiles softly at your answer.

“I did too. Seeing you in there was hell.”, he whispers back, and you feel emotional at his words, not knowing if it’s because of the lack of sleep or the drugs.

“You mean so much to me that it’s scary.”, he says after a few minutes while chuckling, looking at his feet with a smile.

“Why is it scary?”, you ask him, wanting to know what was holding him back.

“Because it’s the things we love the most that destroy us. Or so I’ve been told.”, he says, and you can’t help but feel happiness bloom in your chest at the words love.

“Love is dangerous, but there is more to life than staying safe.”, you tell him after a moment, and he chuckles at your words before taking your hand.

“I guess it’s time I’m the brave one in here.”, you smile softly at him while looking at him and taking your time of noting every detail.

“You’ve always been brave, just in your own way.”, Finnick squeezes your hand, and you squeeze it back.

The two of you stay there, holding each other’s hands while talking about anything you can talk about, not wanting to think about what’s to come. You don’t know what you are just yet, just that the two of you love each other and for the moment that’s enough.

And although there is darkness to come and darkness in the memories it would show you with time just how important Finnick will always be to you.

#hunger games fanfiction #hunger games finnick #the hunger games #thg finnick #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x you #finnick odair

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philtstone · 6 days

Note

24. Showing up injured at their friend/mentor’s house: for shawn? :)

[emerges from writing this fic bloody and beaten and on the verge of collapse] ill explore karen vicks character in an overly complicated post-episode missing scene fic or die trying! set immediately post "right turn or left for dead". i genuinely dont know if im happy with this but i also cant figure out how to fix it. actually, it would have probably been easier to write if i was willing to rewatch the episodes its based on. which i am not, because i am a sensitive little soul. so i winged it. i think there are like 10 different ideas that crop up and theyre all equally fascinating as character threads but i have no idea if i tied them together in an even remotely coherent way. also, WOULD she say that??? i had to call my brother twice to ask. this is what yall get for sending me actually interesting prompts, huh

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Henry’s voice said on the phone. “I’ll send Shawn over with them on his way out. He's going in your direction, anyway.”

In her short tenure as the junior detective to Henry Spencer’s lieutenant, Karen Vick observed two things:

First, that he was a far more clever strategist than most people gave him credit for. Despite the ongoing wreckage of his impending divorce and a kid who was slipping through his fingers as everyone looked on, Karen didn’t agree with the other junior detectives’ impression of him as a smash-the-door-down old school hard ass with thinning hair and a worst attitude. The man played four dimensional chess right out of a bonafide Star Trek episode. When he really wanted something done, Henry Spencer could bullshit and bluff and battle plan with the pros, and half the time you’d get too caught up in the blustering misdirect to realize his game was intricately thought out three steps in advance.

It was how they caught the Shorttown Killer, and also how they got that idiot Trembley at the mayor’s office to finally replace their coffee maker. Karen went home to her then-boyfriend, now-husband, and, right before bed, pulled out an old school workbook and took notes.

The second thing was that Henry Spencer loved his son.

Not a lot has changed since then, Karen thinks, staring down the weirdness that she now faces through her open front door.

“… Oh — Mr. Spencer,” Karen says, because it’s rude not to greet your employees when they show up at your home outside of work hours, and are also your old friend-slash-colleague’s kid. “Hello. Thanks for — bringing these over.”

“Dad said it was urgent,” Shawn says.

Urgent isn’t quite how Karen would describe it, but hearing through the grapevine that your department might be facing an audit sometime in the next quarter does light a fire under the proverbial ass. Karen would rather bend a few rules and make sure the last year’s i’s and t’s are dotted and crossed right than leave her detectives vulnerable to the whims of a mayoral stooge.

In general, Karen prides herself on caring about the people under her command just enough that it inspires genuine friendship and loyalty. The just is important. Care needs tempering – it’s important to pull back, press pause, keep certain lines uncrossed. It’s especially important if you want to be successful as a woman in an authority position where lives are often on the line.

What she’s saying is that she tries to make it none of her business what her employees get up to in their spare time. She really genuinely does. She’s shut O’Hara down gently midway through the twelfth sweetly-frazzled attempt to overshare about her dating life (or her efforts to befriend her next-door neighbor, or the endearing personality quirks of her last cat – rest in peace, Triscuit, you will be missed –) enough times to be well-versed in the art of I Won’t Ask, You Won’t Tell, But You’ll Probably Know I Care Anyway.

An invaluable rapport to maintain. In any situation, Karen thinks, but especially when you’re a person who regularly hires and works alongside Shawn Spencer.

She’s not sure whether what she’s looking at right now makes her want to second guess or double down on her usual policy.

“Special delivery,” Shawn adds, like everything is super normal.

Karen narrows her eyes. She glances behind them into the quiet residential street.

“Shawn,” she says.

“Yes, Chief?”

“You didn’t drive here, did you?”

“Ha,” he says, half rolling his eyes to accompany a weird aborted grin. “No. Even I don’t think riding a motorcycle with a concussion is a good idea. What if someone who wasn’t me got hurt? That’s — that would be no good, then you’d have to arrest me. Wouldn’t that be a huge bummer for the whole team, Chief? Gus would cry. And my dad wouldn’t let me take his truck.”

Karen stares at him. Shawn stares at the ground.

“I got a cab,” he says.

“And you are … taking another cab – home?”

Shawn looks quite suddenly like he’s going to be sick.

“Sure,” he says.

Shawn looks terrible. Bruised face, bags under his eyes, and a weird frenetic energy twitching in his limbs that doesn’t pair well with his general air of exhaustion. He’s holding his shoulders stiffly and can barely meet her eye. His t-shirt and sweatpants are rumpled, like he slept in them, even though it’s too early in the evening for Henry to have woken him up to send him here, and when he thrusts the promised files out into the air toward her, abrupt and, admittedly, Shawn-like, he only just hides the awkward wince that immediately overtakes his left side.

The last couple days have been a bit of a whirlwind, so Karen can’t say she necessarily blames herself for not looking more closely.

Even so.

Slowly, Karen reaches forward and divests him of the case files. They slip a little bit, because Karen can’t seem to stop peering shrewdly at Shawn’s face while she does it, and on instinct he reaches forward to stop the stack from toppling.

It does help, but the autopilot he moves on makes it harder to mask what is to Karen’s eyes a very obvious flinch.

“Alright,” is all he says. “Well, good to see you. Time to head back to the old hay stack.”

Like a needle in a haystack and time to hit the hay, Karen supplies needlessly in her own head. Aloud, she says, in many ways against her better judgment,

“Mr. Spencer, are you okay?”

Shawn sways on the spot for a second, one fist clenched, mouth half open. For a strange moment, Karen gets the impression that he’s trying really hard not to say the wrong thing.

“... As rain,” he finally manages, then nods to himself like he achieved some great feat. “Okay. Well –”

“Did something happen to your shoulder?”

“What? No!” Shawn’s eyes flutter closed and he shakes his head, “I’m – fine, Chief. It’s not – I mean, I’m – normal, fine. Fine in a normal way.”

“That’s not something an individual who’s fine in a normal way would say,” Karen says.

“Uh, is it not! It is. I would know, because I am that individual. It’s – I was – there’s just mild – pfft … stab wound – or something, who would even …”

Is Shawn broken? is the unhelpful thought that pops into Karen’s head. She’s never heard an attempt to bullshit collapse so quickly into pathetic nothingness before – certainly not from Shawn.

Perhaps even more than his father, the kid’s a pro.

And then the rest of the sentence catches up with her.

“A mild stab wound?”

Oh boy. She watches Shawn’s eyes widen with the panic that proceeds an unquestionable blunder.

“Chief –”

“In.”

“Chief, I really, really don’t think –”

“Inside my house. Now.”

He’s certainly uncoordinated enough that he doesn’t put up much of a fight. Karen herds him through the door as firmly as possible and leads them in a beeline past Richard’s office toward the bathroom, ignoring the reedy stream of consciousness that spills out of Shawn’s mouth as they go.

“Oh, hey, woah, it’s been like forever since I was in here. Did you redecorate? I swear that lamp wasn’t there the last time we visited. It could be the tacos I had earlier, but I’m sensing a distinct neo-modern Chinese aesthetic going on here, Chief, which calls to mind the merits of cultural appreciation in suburban home decor – hey, is that your husband’s office? Can I meet him? Is he home? That man is a true enigma to us, Chief, and it’s leading me to believe that he must possess all the facial and personality qualities of the pop superstar Mr. Pitbull Worldwide –”

Richard is home, actually, and Karen needs to alert him to the fact that they have an unexpected house guest, so, ignoring Shawn completely, she calls out,

“Honey? Shawn Spencer’s here for a couple minutes about a work thing! I’ll go up to put Iris to bed in a second!” in the finely-honed There Are Many Layers Of Complicated To This secret married tone that Richard should probably be able to catch through the closed office door.

“Alright,” floats out her husband’s pleasant voice. “Tell him hi from me.”

Perfect. There’s about a ninety-three percent chance he understood.

They make it to the bathroom, only stumbling slightly. Shawn says,

“-- or The Rock. Does your husband look like Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson? I really think that would make so many things about the Chief Vick family make sense –”

Karen closes the bathroom door with a snap and crosses her arms.

“Sit,” she says, in a voice that even he knows brooks no argument.

Shawn does. He looks – well, beyond uncomfortable, and more than a little bit miserable, and probably closer to completely dissociating than either of them are prepared for. Karen wonders belatedly if he's gotten any sleep at all in the last forty-eight hours.

“I’m assuming you have not been to the hospital.”

He gives her a baleful look, like he really expected better of her. She only just stops herself from rolling her eyes in response. And there’s that huge goose egg on his forehead, too. What, exactly, he got up to in between Carlton’s wedding reception and oh-eight-hundred hours this morning Karen has no idea, but he looks like someone’s run him through the world’s most aggressive industrial tumble dry cycle and spat him mercilessly back out.

Or maybe over with a truck.

Sending a silent prayer to the universe that Iris never hit puberty and remains a sweet-tempered six-year-old forever, Karen gets to business.

“Well, I had to at least ask. Shawn. Does it need stitches?” He mumbles the answer the first time, and then looks beyond startled when she grabs him under the chin so he’ll look her in the eye. “Listen. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. But you’re going to tell me the truth. Got it?”

Shawn grimaces so hard at her words it’s almost a flinch.

“No,” he says finally, clearly enough that she hears him. Karen raises an eyebrow. “No, I don’t think it needs stitches,” he articulates, but doesn’t meet her eye.

“Hm. Alright. I have gauze and tape in the medicine cabinet. Can I … is it alright if I pull up the sleeve of your t-shirt?”

Released from her hold, he groans and presses his face into one palm. “Chief –”

“I don’t really know what you expected, coming here! It’s not like I’m any less of a hardass than your father.”

“Yeah, but I can bitch back at my dad,” Shawn says, sounding like he’s finally realizing the magnitude of his mistake. Karen smiles grimly.

“Tough. Now pull your shirt up while I get the first aid kit.”

While Shawn proceeds to wrestle awkwardly with his t-shirt in a muted shuffle against the toilet seat, Karen rummages efficiently through the cabinet and eyes him through the bathroom mirror. He seems oddly reluctant to expose himself. In fact, in a stark contrast to his usual insistence on making his presence and contributions as obtrusively obvious as possible, Shawn seems intent on shrinking into the aforementioned Asian-flavored floral wallpaper (which does need an update, unfortunately) with all the equanimity of an anxious chameleon. Karen feels her eyebrows crease. Taking the first aid kit in hand, she brings it over and deposits it into his arms, ignoring his small startle.

“How about you hold that,” Karen says. Shawn does, against his chest, like a pillow. She walks around him and surveys the damage, antiseptic gauze in hand.

He wasn’t lying about the severity, at least. It’s a shallow thing, already mostly congealed, and has only stained his shirt in a small smattering spot of crusty brown blood.

Karen swabs at it with the alcohol using light careful fingers.

“Ow, ow ow ah –”

“Don’t be such a baby. It’s hardly a life-threatening injury.”

“Super insightful, Chief,” Shawn snaps, as genuinely sarcastic as he’s probably ever been with her, “never thought of that myself. Totally the reason why I just had to go to the hospital.”

He doesn’t pull away, but she can feel the tension radiating through his back. She blinks, one eyebrow crawling up her forehead.

Alright then. So that’s how it’s going to be.

“I’m assuming your father doesn’t know about this,” she says.

Shawn grunts, noncommittal. Huh. Maybe he does know, then, and has just been disallowed from doing anything about it right now.

She tosses the first used antiseptic wipe into the trash.

Goddamn four dimensional chess.

She supposes she’s never been bad at the game. She may as well work her way backwards through the moves: Guster, the most obvious node in Shawn’s turn-to-in-a-crisis-system, would never voluntarily abandon his friend in a time of need, so Karen assumes that whatever this is has either already included his support or not been made known to Gus at all yet. Henry’s likely exhausted his own usefulness in the situation, and Detective O’Hara is …

Karen has to work very hard for her hands not to pause in a way that gives away her hard-earned mental sleuthing. A bad feeling wholly unrelated to her ill-advised hangover of the day before begins to bloom at the back of her gut.

“You have really small hands, Chief.”

Shawn’s voice is notably more subdued than before.

“Do I?”

“They’re like … little kangaroo hands. Like the mom kangaroo from Whinnie the Pooh.”

“Didn’t you know?” Karen says, not unkindly. “They’re given out at the hospital when all first-time moms leave with their baby.”

He lets out a tired little laugh, more boyish than he probably means it to be, and in spite of herself Karen feels her heart clench. She isn’t blind. In all her last seven years as the leader of their chaotic little precinct, she has never seen Juliet O’Hara look as ill as she did yesterday morning. The usually sweet-faced young woman had all the pallor of a Victorian ghost, and stood so far away from Shawn in any given room that to an unassuming observer he might have had the plague.

There are only a handful of things, Karen thinks, that could have invited that particular evolution in their dynamic. She rips the surgical tape from its canister a little bit more harshly than is strictly necessary and fights the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

“So,” she says conversationally, laying the tape down in neat, gentle little strips, trying not to pinch the wound too tightly. “Any fun plans for the evening?”

Shawn sniffs. She can see him gripping his hands together over his knee from where she stands above him.

“Um, yeah, uh –” he clears his throat, “you know me, Chief. We’re working our way through a Robert Guillame marathon, which means some good old fashioned Benson, running commentary on the quality of that child acting, naturally.”

“Naturally.”

“Then Gus and I were gonna hit up the new, the new chili cheese joint up by Hermosa, you know – they’re doing sliders –”

“Chili cheese sliders?” Karen hums, contemplative.

“Buy ‘em by the pound,” Shawn agrees. “Then I was thinking of getting a tattoo, maybe a belly button piercing, I’ve been really – really needing a change – would you let Iris get one, if she asked?”

“A tattoo?” Karen clarifies, cutting off the next piece of tape. The skin around the cut is warm to her touch but Shawn’s arms have goosepimpled. The hair at the back of his head sticks up unstyled, like he slept weirdly and couldn’t be bothered to fix it come morning.

“Of a marmoset. That’s what I’m thinking. With distinctly effeminate vibes.”

“Well, Dick hates marmosets. So I’d probably encourage her toward something else. Perhaps a sea lion.”

“Like Shabby.” The nervous note has bled into his legs again, and his earlier subdued tone has gone back to sounding strained. “Yeah, that’ll – that could be it.”

“All in one night, huh?” Karen says.

“I –” Shawn doesn’t even hiss when she presses down with a cotton gauze to cover the last of the thickened blood. His legs are properly jittering again. “I was – yeah, y-you know me, Chief, total night owl.”

“Shawn?”

“Yeah?”

“What about going home?”

Silence. Shawn doesn’t answer for a moment long and pregnant enough that Karen wonders if her question will be ignored entirely.

Then,

“Chief,” he says finally, in an awful, tiny little voice, “I really, really fucked up.”

Finally, her hands do falter in their ministrations; as emotionally exuberant as Shawn often is, she doesn’t think she’s ever actually heard him close to tears. For a horrible moment she wonders if Shawn Spencer will suddenly start crying atop her toilet seat for reasons neither of them are capable of discussing honestly. Then she wonders if her horror makes her a terrible boss.

Boss – mother – person.

Oh, dear.

She sets down the surgical tape and lays a ginger palm over the newly-bandaged gouge in his shoulder. It’ll probably scar, but not at all badly. She doesn’t like to think about the far more obvious one just below, puckering in a violent yet unassuming divot. Another narrow miss for Henry’s boy.

At this point there are so many of them to count, Karen has to question the statistical likelihood of the whole thing. Becoming a mathematical anomaly is, Karen can attest with confidence, not exactly the future the Lieutenant Spencer she knew dreamed of for his increasingly unmanageable teenager.

Doing what he loved, on the other hand – absolutely. Being with a person he loved, even more so. Karen grits her teeth at the irritating web she’s spent the last six years constructing around herself and wonders if this evening right here is some kind of cosmic karma for leaving Iris in the care of nannies for the first three years of her life.

That sounds like the kind of thing those horrible parenting magazines and Karen’s mother-in-law would claim, anyway.

“Shawn,” she says slowly, because she has to at least knock this possibility off the list before risking her career in an attempt to mediate her detectives’ love lives, “did you … you weren’t – unfaithful, were you?”

“What?!”

Shawn yanks his shoulder away and whirls around to face her with such a look of horrified betrayal on his face that it’s almost comical.

“No!”

Thank fucking God, Karen thinks. Aloud, she says,

“Well, I’m sorry, I had to at least ask!”

“No! No! What the hell, Chief!”

“Oh would you be quiet! I’m gathering my evidence here!”

“How could I – I would never – you’d even think that I could –”

“I know! Shawn, for God’s sake –” He’s scrambled to his feet in the cramped bathroom space, glaring, and has probably messed up all that surgical tape in the process. The half open first aid kit and his crumpled shirt press lopsided against his front and her garbage can is now full of oxidizing bits of cotton. Karen officially gives in to the urge to press her palms against her forehead. “I had to ask!” she repeats finally. “You and I both know you’re not gonna give me much else to work with, and you sounded so – so sad!”

Shawn barks out a hysterical little laugh. Karen almost growls in frustration.

“I am not going to risk all the very hard-earned rules I have in place without knowing for sure that my instincts aren’t wrong. Is that so hard to appreciate?”

Does it count as sound police work when the framework for your investigation is an unacknowledged lie? Karen doesn’t really know. Probably there’s another math metaphor to be made in there (you screwed your proof from the very beginning, maybe, Richard the professor would definitely have thoughts), or just a straight up joke. How to solve a case that’s cold before it ever has the chance to go live; a cover-up if she ever saw one. Unlikely that O’Hara will peep a word, and things will be a true mess for a few weeks, if she can’t make an educated guess about it. And no one will be explaining anything to Carlton, either …

Right before their goddamn audit, Karen thinks, aggrieved. She wonders if Henry considered this in his calculus. Send Shawn over, have her deal with him. Offer a huge unspoken you’re gonna be walking into a shitstorm tomorrow canary for her perennially chaotic mess of a coal mine.

She can’t help but feel begrudgingly grateful, but that doesn’t mean she and he won’t be having words about this later.

“Jesus, Karen,” Shawn mutters, pressing his face back into his free hand. Karen shakes her head and squares her shoulders.

“Well then! Back to the issue. You fucked up.”

“You know what? I can’t talk about this with you.”

“Oh, Mr. Spencer, I assure you I am more than well aware.”

Shawn blinks at her between his fingers, looking genuinely confused for the first time since he showed up at her door.

Karen does not bother to clear up his confusion; it’s better this way, anyhow.

“Will you be sleeping at Gus’s place or your father’s?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“I’m – I don’t –” Shawn doesn’t meet her eye. The earlier thread of anxiety is back. “I wasn’t …”

So, neither.

“Put your shirt back on,” she says. “We’re relocating to the living room.”

“Chief –”

“That was an order, Mr. Spencer.”

The living room is as quiet and mundane as it was an hour ago. It’s past Iris’s bedtime – she’ll have to go up, and soon at that. Karen seats her guest, retrieves a mug and a bag of chamomile from the kitchen, and removes the fluffy throw blanket from the basket behind the couch on her way back in. He’s deflated completely by the time the tea and blanket are set in front of him. Small and exhausted. Caught. It’s a horrible way to think about it. But she can’t avoid the hundred yard stare – Karen has seen it one too many times in people only just realizing they’re about to go away for life.

“Shawn,” she says, firm as she can make it. “Drink the tea. You’re dehydrated.”

“I’m … what?”

“Your lips are dry. You shouldn’t be dehydrated with a concussion.”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Karen suddenly wonders if he’s going to get up and leave. She has experience with these things – she knows a runner when she sees one.

“I might as well have,” Shawn finally whispers.

She doesn’t catch it the first time. “What?”

“I – I might as well ha – Chief, I …” Deep shuddering breaths. He’s finally shutting down, she realizes. She can’t send him back out like this; Henry would give her the stink eye for a month.

Goddamn Spencers and their goddamn irritating overcomplicated lives.

Karen pushes the tea directly into his hands and tilts her chin so she can meet Shawn’s eye. He’s still lucid enough that she doesn’t think he’ll start hyperventilating, but now that the outrage and adrenaline has worn off, the symptoms of shock are pretty hard to miss. “Shawn,” she says again, and wills for him to understand.

“What if she – what if I never –” He can’t get the full sentence out. He looks at her, eyes wide and terrified.

Life sentence, Karen thinks again. The messy stack of files Shawn brought over sits almost unimportantly on the coffee table between them and a memory comes to her, unbidden, of words penned carefully in the corner of a modified police report that she pulled the minute the door closed on the McCallum case seven years ago.

Date: May 4th, 1995. Reporting Officer, Spencer, Lt. H. Perpetrator a caucasian male, brown hair, five foot nine, insists on wearing those stupid earrings just to spite me. What the hell do you want me to write here, Chief? Spent two hours in the fucking principal’s office convincing them not to expel him one month off from graduation. All that effort, and I still booked the kid. It’s gonna follow him for life, and it’s gonna be me that did it to him. For life. You think he’ll ever forgive me? He’s the greatest thing in my pathetic little world and he keeps breaking my heart, and I can’t even properly accept that it’s my fault.

How’s that for a fucking crime.

She needs to go put her daughter to bed. It’s the thought that keeps running through her head, oddly enough, like a strange antidote to the impotent anger and heartbreak and frustration she’s feeling for the people under her care.

With all the notes she took in that little workbook, she still let herself become complicit in the painstaking, convoluted resolution of Henry’s mistakes without accounting for all the variables.

Richard’s footsteps sound muffled in the next room; he’s made his way upstairs in Karen’s absence. She needs to go. She wants to hear the soft and sleepy love you Mama that with her unpredictable hours and regular long nights isn’t nearly routine enough.

“Shawn,” she says evenly. “Do you love her?”

It’s hard to reconcile the smarmy kid who tried to barter with her for twelve hundred a day with the devastated young man sitting on the couch in front of her.

“Chief …” he starts, barely above a whisper.

“Good. Then she’ll see that. Detective O’Hara is a smart and observant woman. What she chooses to do next is her decision, but … you might be – well, comforted by the fact that she’ll know that – truth.”

Shawn stares at her. The tea steams in front of him, cooling in increments. She takes a deep breath and gets to her feet, patting his uninjured shoulder brusquely.

“I have to go check on Iris. When I come back down, I can drive you to the Psych office.”

Iris is fast asleep when she gets there. A library book lays open face down over her stomach, and her soft brown hair fans out against the pillow, silhouetted by the soft glow of the unicorn nightlight in the wall above her. Karen turns off the bedside lamp, tucks her daughter in, and kisses her forehead. Just before she leaves, she hears it: murmured, half-awake.

“Love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Karen goes back to her living room, car keys in hand. She’s planned her next move in the driver’s seat enough times throughout her career that it shouldn’t be too hard.

#my writing #psych #psych usa #psych 2006 #shawn spencer #karen vick #henry spencer #shawn x juliet #shules #situations prompt meme #not sure if i want to put this on ao3 yet we'll see #if it gets zero traction on here ... maybe lol

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skittlespizza · 16 days

Text

some of you have asked me about my crt setup!!

some basic materials you'll need.

CRT TV (duh)

computer or laptop (duh)

HDMI2AV (NOT AV2HDMI)

RCA cords (the red, white and yellow ones)

HDMI to USB converter if your laptop doesn't have HDMI like mine does.

here is the setup, this is a multi monitor setup but you can just do this with one CRT.

step one: plug in your crt. cord in the back. that will power your crt!

step two: plug in the RCA cables like this.

step three: plug your RCA cords into the HDMI2AV adapter like so. you'll plug in an HDMI cord on the other side. MAKE SURE IT'S SET TO THE CORRECT SETTING. THERE'S NTSC AND PAL

if you don't know what yours is, check this map that explains where each one was sold.

PAL is just a different color encoding system, a bunch of technical stuff you can learn on your own.

step four: plug your HDMI into the USB adapter if you need it. YOU MIGHT NOT. DEPENDS ON YOUR DEVICE.

i use a windows surface pro and it requires i use this adapter. sucks ass but whatever.

OPTIONAL: if you have ONLY ONE usb port in your computer, consider getting a USB splitter so you can plug multiple things in. i have one.

and voila. a set-up!

you can treat these like different displays.

mines connected by the 3 cords in the front, but if you have more money and can get another adapter and etc etc, you can make these all different.

a few FAQ since i assume quite a few of you have never used crts or vhs players:

whats the ringing sound?: its a ringing sound caused by the transformer in the back, its the 15kHz tone. as you get older, you stop hearing it because you lose high frequency hearing. i cant hear it in one ear because of a radio accident and i bursted my eardrum.

can i stop the ringing?: buy a crt pc. theyre smaller and dont ring as much/at all depending on which one you have.

how do i use my vhs player: you plug the cords into the back of the vhs player and then into the crt.

where do i buy a crt: theyre not in production anymore so you will have to buy it secondhand on markets.

where did you get all your cords: most stores with an electronics section will have it but consider secondhand computer parts store.

what do you do with it: literally watch YouTube, vhs tapes, make vhs tapes (whole different thing) or play video games.

can it run bad apple?: yes

can it run doom?: yes

anyways yeah. end tutorial. 🥳

#crt #crts #retro gaming #vhs

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last-flight-of-fancy · 3 months

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I would love to hear your trans alphinaud and lesbian alisaie headcanons or more about the subtext you see! Especially alisaie.

AHHH oh gosh i would love to answer!! Though I must admit that these are built from many (MANY) small moments across the whole game more than a few easily pointed at examples, which means its.. kind of difficult to pull up (and remember) all the evidence.

That being said, i do still have Many Thoughts about it :DDD

First off trans Alphinaud was set into my mind very early on by one simple fact: identical twins are almost always born the same sex. like almost invariably, with the very rare exceptions needing some wild extenuating circumstances. and you cannot tell me those two are fraternal.

now ofc this is fiction, and a fantasy world besides. who's to say the writers knew that particular fact? well good news! alphinaud presents a *lot* of other common trans experiances, which are scattered throughout the msq and optional side dialogue.

(shoutout to me for having the exact same thought four years apart before and after playing the game myself. i have absolutely no memory of the first post at all because i also have no memory of watching my partner play shadowbringers even though i definitely did. rare adhd memory loss win! i got to experiance my favourite thing for the first time twice!)

post 1: dated 2019, talking about how alphinaud is extremely trans coded, being an identical twin of a different gender to his twin, cannot swim, is body shy and *extremely* hesitant about using public showers, and having interests that are traditionally coded as feminine in fiction.

post 2: dated 2023, the same thing but this time talking about how wonderfully alphinaud and alisaie are made to complement each other in opposite ways.

he cant swim: related to the body-shyness and hesitance around the showers, its VERY common for trans people to experiance these things due to dysphoria and societal perceptions. i myself started experiancing this (even though i LOVE swimming) when pubescence started to hit. (it sucks!) alphinaud was probably one of those ones who realised VERY early what he was (logic boy who is too dang smart for his own good) so he just.. never learned to swim at all. kept his nose buried in books instead.

traditionally feminine interests/abilities: sure it could be trope subversion, but personally i think theyre also things he just enjoyed before transitioning and thus continued to do.

and one more that i can remember off the top of my head: alisaie's reaction to estinian mistaking her for alphinaud.

"but alphinaud has no problem with being mistaken for-" let me explain, i swear it makes sense.

see, alphinaud is a little logic boy at heart, we know this. he knows he and alisaie share their features, that is simply a fact. alisaie though? alisaie is ruled by feeling, and reacts accordinly. most notably the Incident when she first meets estinian.

what i find especially interesting about this is that prior to that moment with estinian, neither of them appear to have much issue with their similarities. it's only after shadowbringers that alisaie reacts with such contempt

(probably not helped by her not liking estinian much in general lol)

what this says to me is that some time before or during ShB, alphinaud told alisaie that the way people mistake him for her does bother him, but he can't blame them for the mistake considering the circumstances, so he just doesn't mention it.

alisaie however can and will blame them and thus the next time someone mixes them up (rip estinian) she EXPLODES. because it's not about her. if it was about her i honestly dont think she would care nearly as much. but it's about her brother, and how dare you hurt her brother's hidden feelings by not being able to tell them apart.

(completely seperate headcanon but i do think that estinian is faceblind as fuck, which means he never stood a chance on this one, poor guy)

okay now for lesbian alisaie <3

what WAS it that thancred said about battle scars and maidens? and whyfor are you thinking about this alisaie? :3

also: Tesleen.

also also: Emery (A Malm in her Shoes short story)

fr tho alisaie pays attention to and talks about girls a lot. in a way she never does about boys. bringing up my complementary opposites wrt the twins thought from before, it honestly could've been another way the writers COULD have done that, having alisaie attempting to impress boys with her athletic skills the same way alphinaud tried to impress girls with his artistic ones (something he is teased about repeatedly). like the absence of this potential parallel is almost suspicious tbh...

once again, any one of these things in isolation is probably simply a choice in writing, but all these things together spell out to me one thing: alisaie likes girls. exclusively.

(im sorry you wanted lesbian alisaie thoughts more and i have less of that than the trans alphinaud ones, but if you come back in 3-5 years when i've finished my second msq run i will have compiled a far more complete list of evidence for both complete with screenshots, probably lol)

#sorry if this is kinda disjointed i just got so excited to talk about it yknow #stop talking to yourself flight #flights tag for replies and stuff #ff14 #ffxiv #alphinaud leveilleur #alisaie leveilleur #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14

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zombiiefactory · 3 months

Text

TREE FRIEND HEADCANONS BUH

im rlly bored so dropping like ages/jobs/prns & whatnot for funsies loll

giggles

- 25 years old + she/her lesbian

- works as the waitress at russell’s diner, also sells her homemade baked goods there

- wants to study for nursing

- engaged to petunia

cuddles

- 24 years old + he/they nonbinary homosexual

- town mailman (mailbunny lol)

- dating toothy

toothy

- 22 years old + he/him asexual bisexual

- local grocery store cashier/manager

- dating cuddles

petunia

- 25 years old + she/her trans [ mtf ] pansexual

- owns her own boutique

- engaged to giggles

nutty

- 28 years old + he/it greysexual bisexual

- stocker/general associate at same local grocery store with toothy

- adhd

- dating sniffles

sniffles

- 30 years old + he/him trans [ ftm ] homosexual

- is a scientist/inventor but also serves as emergency medical against his will

- autistic

- dating nutty

shifty

- 28 years old + he/him heterosexual

- con-artist/scammer as well as thief

- adhd

lifty

- 28 years old + he/him homosexual

- con-artist/scammer as well as thief

- adhd

- incredibly closeted trans girl

- dating mime

truffles

- 27 years old + he/him heterosexual

- fisherman who sells catch to russell, captain of his own ship

- lives out of town

lammy

- 23 years old + she/her bi-curious

- unemployed but currently attending college

- lives out of town

mime

- 26 years old + he/they/it nonbinary pansexual

- street performer/for-hire party entertainer

- autistic

- dating lifty

pop

- 47 years old + he/him homosexual [ recently out of the closet ]

- stay-at-home-father during the day, works at russell’s diner at night as a bartender

- undiagnosed autistic

- married to disco bear

cub

- 1 1/2 years old + he/him

- undiagnosed autistic

flippy

- 49 years old + he/him bisexual

- used to be retired but went stir crazy, now works as librarian/book club organizer alongside flaky, babysitter at night for pop + cub

disco bear

- 52 years old + he/him homosexual

- flashy hairdresser (or furdresser in this case)

flaky

- 38 years old + they/she nonbinary [ amab ] demiromantic

- owner of their own flower shop,mostly sells what she grows themself, also book club organizer alongside flippy

handy

- 33 years old + he/him heterosexual [ closeted homosexual ]

- handyman idk what else id expect him to be lmao

russell

- 45 years old + he/him bisexual depending on the day

- chef/owner of his own diner, slowed down on the seas due to bodily stress

lumpy

- 48 years old + he/him lumpy

- farmer for the town/main produce exporter, seems to also work in every other odd spot hes not supposed to for no reason

- lumpy

the mole ( mr. mole )

- 73 years old + he/him ??? [ wont tell you ]

- ex-spy currently retired, likes to take up random jobs for fun even if incredibly unqualified

- can speak chooses not too

more relationship stuff under the cut cause this is already long enough lol

giggles, cuddles, petunia, & toothy have been best friends since early childhood and are mostly all seen together. most residents deem them the “four horsemen of the apocalypse”

giggles & cuddles dated for a bit in their teenage years before mutually breaking it off realizing they werent attracted to the opposite sex

giggles proposed to petunia !!

mime & nutty are best friends, they met as young kids in school and instantly clicked. they have a bit of a gap in their friendship due to nuttys disappearance but are now back together and inseparable !

nutty was the only one to know about mimes secret admiration for lifty and set them up together

toothy, nutty, & lifty all play video games together over voice-chat whenever theyre free

flaky & nutty are each others sibling figure stemming from them being neighbors during youth. they see him as the younger brother they never had and he sees them as the older sibling he never had

all the younger residents ( mostly the four horsemen ) all see pop as a father figure. he watched them all grow up and hes their metaphorically adopted dad being completely comfortable to go to him any time they need any sort of help

giggles & russell have a very close relationship, seeing each other nearly every single day of the year. he sees her to be the daughter he never had and enjoys the moments where they get to just talk. even if he doesnt have the proper words at the time

pop & flippy are cousins but treated each other like close brothers before flippy left for the military. their relationship was rocky after his return 25 years later but theyre doing a great job at patching it up

flippy & flaky attempted to “date” for a bit but neither were ready for romance. they pushed the mushy stuff out of the way and are much much happier being best friends. they couldnt imagine a life without each other in it but cant seem to put their fingers on the fact theyre soulmates

russell & handy act like an old married couple they seem to be best buds having a laugh and a beer together one minute but then argue over nothing the next. still incredibly good friends though

lumpy is everyones friend !! even if a scatterbrain, his heart is filled to the brim with love and gets along with every resident he meets

pop & disco have had feelings for each other for decades. each others first love but pop wasnt ready to accept his attraction to men due to his upbringing. he hid himself and married a woman, started a family, pretended to feel happy. his wife unfortunately passed in a tragic accident but fortunately disco was there to comfort pop after the loss. pop at this age decided it was safe to not hide anymore and accepted his love for disco. theyve been married for a few months now

nutty had a love at first sight spark for sniffles after meeting the newly moved in anteater. flaky & mime helped nutty get closer to sniff as he was well too nervous to do so itself

truffles & russell have been buds since truff demanded russ to take him out on the sea and be apart of the crew as a young kid. russell admired the little pigs tough spirit not afraid of a pirate waving a weapon in his face after the rude order and decided to take him up on this letting him sail the seas. he was a good man for just a little thing being quickly taken up under the pirate wing. truffles grew on that ship to become the captains first mate even so much so when russell decided that it was maybe time for him to start thinking about taking a break, he offered the ship to truffles to be the new captain but he declined. a captain should always go down with his lady and russell admired this thought. even if the two dont see each other much anymore with truff being out on the waters, every time he comes back to the dock russell is waiting with big open arms

shifty does not have many friends unlike lifty. hes a small bit jealous of his brother over this. lifty is growing and managing his childhood trauma slowly putting himself together healing from the past while shifty revels having difficulties accepting what happened

lumpy, handy, & russell love hanging out ! lumpy seems to be the glue that keep handy and russell from bickering

pop, flippy, & disco all also love hanging out having laughs and beers together

sniffles isnt great at making friends rather putting his studies above socializing but bonds with toothy over their shared admiration for splendid/nerdy media

flippy & flaky met while flaky was employed as the librarian. flippy thought they were cute but was too anxious/not mentally ready to take that step. pop coaxed flippy into talking to her where they clicked almost immediately. flippy became assistant librarian before taking over with flakys departure

mime is the only one lifty is comfortable enough to be out to. mime buys her gender affirming clothes/does her makeup, they love their princess !!

the four horsemen beg pop to babysit cub as they adore him! but only the girls actually take care of him, cuddles & toothy have more fun teaching him naughty words. they got caught once when cub repeated something and were suspended from watching him

flippy had a secret fling with disco bear years ago

sniffles & handy get along when they want to. handy does admire sniffles abilities but will come over about once a week to nag the anteater about inventing some mechanical arms. sniffles stated he can’t and if he could’ve, he would. handy never takes this for an answer and will be back next week

shifty has had a massive crush on petunia for ages that never goes away, meanwhile lifty is secretly incredibly jealous of her. both avoid her

mr. mole once moved in with handy for a bit as his home collapsed in. handy offered the extra bed and mole took it graciously. turns out, they both have a lot more in common than they thought and became good friends. mr. moles home was renovated allowing him to move back but still stayed in contact with the beaver. they still take roadtrips every now and then just to bond

flippy was unfortunately not invited to pop and his ladys wedding. specifically being banned from attending by her. after the incident, she wanted nothing to do with him. fortunately though, pop and flippy were closer this time and flippy was asked to be best man at he and discos wedding. flippy never agreed to anything faster, it was a great honor

#happy tree friends #htf headcanons #meowmeow meeoowww meow #htf ships #???#do i tag this as ship idk i am anyway #giggles x russell is not canon in my head im srryyy #neither is disco hitting on giggles/petunia #ik thats his character but in my head he watched them grow up in this town so #thats weird #also flaky is kinda friends with the four horsemen #but like in a “’hey ur old enough can you drive us here cause we dont feel like it lol k thnx’#cuddles does still kinda push flaky out of their comfort zone though #cuddles has a belly piercing and flaky a tongue piercing bc he somehow convinced them they should both go crazy and get pierced on a whim #but only if shed do it with him #mime pierced them btw #and his ass is NOT qualified #id be scared too #beetlebabblez

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