#as Alt was stuck doing for some time

[merge-conflict]

Sometimes I really wonder: exactly how many times did they try to implant Johnny into a corpse? How many failed trials?

Did they discard the copies they made? Are there other prototypes? How many versions of Johnny existed only for a millisecond, a brief moment, woken up and then reverted back to his original image?

Johnny calls Mikoshi a prison, but being copied over and over onto fresh prototypes, used and reused without respect or care...what do you call that? It sounds like hell.

[nordidia]

having a very rough night so raph doodles needed to be made

when in need, mash two interests together

[nightmareonpeachstreet]

I was today years old when I found out the way to win Flock Frenzy is to not play it. I'm not kidding

(not my video btw, but it did set me free from my flock frenzy torment, so I am very grateful to this person and I definitely recommend watching it if u also hate this minigame)

[whumpuary]

Whumpuary 2025!

(edit in case anyone actually reads this, i messed up and put "i'm fine" in twice for day 25 and alt prompt, so either ignore that or you can use "do it" as an additional alt prompt)

these prompts came together through community submissions and then a voting form where people voted for their favorites, here are the top 53 prompts

i want to try a slightly new format where there are still only 15 days for creation prompts but with additional community prompts/questions. those are entirely voluntary but are here to possibly inspire some community interaction and trying new things

i'm excited to see some awesome creations in january!

go here for info/rules/tagging go here for faqs

(note: number 31 is not a creation prompt and therefore not required to complete the challenge, it's just colored black so the colors add up)

text version of the prompts and rules is under the cut

(image description note: there are 31 numbered prompts, on each odd number the text color is black and on even numbers the text color is white)

Whumpuary 2025

a whump-themed multi media creation event for january

create for at least one prompt from each odd/black number to complete the challenge community prompts (even/white) numbers are voluntary

main prompts

1. sacrifice | headache | "this will hurt" 2. how did you find the whump community? 3. choice | storm | black eye 4. what are your favorite whump tropes? 5. "do you trust me" | manhandled | chills 6. share your favorite whump creations (others or yours!) 7. unfair fight | insomnia | "no one is coming" 8. what media genre do you like whump in? 9. trapped under rubble | gunpoint | out of time 10. write your own whump prompt 11. "i didn't ask for this" | blood | abandoned 12. create something in a new/less familiar medium 13. close call | sleep | choking 14. what's your favorite character dynamic? 15. handcuffed | dead | "please, stop" 16. leave a comment on a whump fic/art/creation 17. drugged | "i'm glad you're alive" | revenge 18. favorite whump medium? (movie, book, art, ...) 19. "let them go" | overworked | head injury 20. send a nice message to someone in the community 21. bruises | "who are you?" | immortality 22. take 10 minutes to work on a wip 23. backhand slap | alone | "i can't do this anymore" 24. what do you take inspiration in? 25. "i'm fine" | missing | drowsiness 26. draw/doodle something whumpy 27. stuck in a loop | twisting the knife | rescue 28. find a creator in the #whumpuary tag and send them an ask 29. kidnapped | "don't leave me" | devotion 30. make a whump meme 31. say something nice about your own work

alt prompts

hiding impaled "i'm fine" rain betrayal hair pulling darkness falling (added later, not in the image: "do it")

rules & info

-any medium is allowed (art, writing, gifs, edits, ...) -prompts are open for interpretation (but the context does have to be whumpy) -create for at least one of three prompts on creation prompt days (black/odd numbers) to complete the challenge -if you're not aiming for completionist you can do however many prompts you want any way you want -community prompts (white/even numbers) are voluntary and don't count for completionist (but can be combined with creation prompts if applicable) -use alt prompts to replace main prompts you don't like some works posted on tumblr will be reblogged if tagged correctly -#whumpuary2025 -#whumpuaryno1 (number of the prompt(s)) -#sacrifice #head injury #"i'm fine" (the prompt(s) you're using) -any trigger/content warning tags -any additional tags (fandom, oc, other used tropes, ...)

[a-hermit-pining]

I saw this on Twitter (i forgot the @), but it really got me thinking. What would your hc be if the boys were playing the game and you were the mc? I hc that Caleb would save every "y/n laughing compilation" he comes across, rafayel would edit y/n's face on random fish and make crack edits and from his alt account he would drop the most gorgeous fanart, and for some reason I feel like sylus would use "quality time" religiously

Hi anon, thank you for sending this in ^^

I completely agree with your takes. Here is my take to compliment yours.

Rafayel: Is the undisputed Fanart King, sketching your character from every angle, in every possible outfit. If an art contest exists, he has already submitted three entries before anyone even knew it was happening. But beyond his artistic obsession, he is also the cursed glitch hoarder. While normal people would be horrified at a headless version of you appearing in-game, Rafayel takes screenshots for exclusive content, considering it a divine blessing from the tech gods. Despite his god-tier art skills, he has zero patience for level locks that force him to wait before progressing, so instead of playing at a normal pace, he rage-quits for months, then returns to binge the game in one sleepless week. His camera roll is half fanart, half stunning in-game scenery that he edits like it’s going in an art gallery.

Xavier: Does not play games for casual enjoyment. He plays for answers. He is a speedrun menace, hitting the first dialogue option before the text box even fully loads. If he gets stuck, he immediately transforms into a lore-devouring beast, reading every spoiler possible just to figure out how to proceed. The only thing keeping him from fully losing his sanity is his refusal to buy premium currency, his pride dictates that he must grind every last diamond by sheer willpower alone. And so, he hoards gems like his soul depends on it, progresses at breakneck speed, and once he’s finished all available content, he descends into 3 AM theory rabbit holes instead of doing something sane like, you know… sleeping. He probably has a color-coded spreadsheet tracking all the route impacts.

Zayne: No one would ever suspect that the infamous, critically acclaimed AO3 writer Frozen Seal, master of soul-crushing angst and tender, breathtaking romance, is actually the stoic, overworked cardiologist Zayne. His fics have a reputation for being so emotionally devastating that readers leave essays in the comments. His update schedule? Completely dictated by his hospital shifts. His author’s notes? Usually something like "Sorry, a patient coded. Will update later." Writes the most heart-wrenching, steamy romance scenes with surgical precision, leaving readers sobbing and sweating in equal measure. Has the smut writing skills of an ace author- which are god tier. Daydreams about you constantly, except when he’s actively resuscitating someone (Even he has limits.)

Sylus: Sylus owns everything. Every premium outfit, every pose, every CG. His entire paycheck is funneled into this game, and no one will ever know the full extent of his power. If questioned about how he maxed out every possible feature, he simply smirks and says, “Skill issue.” But despite single-handedly funding the dev team, he is infuriatingly secretive about his content. His in-game gallery? Locked. His premium screenshots? Hidden. Some speculate he has developers tied up in his basement feeding him exclusive content, but according to Sylus, it’s simply the fruit of his labor. Strangely enough, despite having literally everything, he still has beef with the gacha system and will cuss out the algorithm if he doesn’t get his way.

Caleb: Is cursed with abysmal gacha luck, pulling three-star memories every single time without fail. He suffers, but at this point, he embraces the suffering like a tragic hero. His nights are spent watching crack compilations at 2 AM, laughing silently to himself like a man on the verge of losing his mind (he is this 🤏🏻close). By all accounts, he plays the game rationally until your character appears, at which point all logic is abandoned. He has every single one of Zayne’s fics bookmarked, and he doesn’t just skim he analyzes them like scholarly literature, leaving long, heartfelt comments. And, of course, in the quiet solitude of his room, a freakishly realistic body pillow of you sits on his bed. If questioned? He doesn’t even blink. "It’s a limited-edition collector’s item."

[robolvrr]

I love love looove the way you write!! I'm 22- and i wanted to ask about your Headcanons for a bi bumblebee.

He's always been proud of looking good, so maaaybe you could give him an opportunity to show off? A car show, or maybe a car wash could be fun.

hot motor oil ☆∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°

hahaaa fffkxzkdk. bet! you speaking my language, anon.

bumblebee x gn! human headcanons.

warnings: suggestive/nsfw. exhibitionism, praise, voyeurism.

bumblebee when on earth at his prime is cocky, playful and a thrill-seeker.

while the inability to vocalize is a sore subject, he's never been insecure about his appearance. he's considered very attractive wherever he goes, cybertron and otherwise.

much to optimus's disapproval, he takes the time to find the newest speedsters to scan regularly throughout the decades.

while he's particular with what automobiles he claims, there's a clear taste for flashy, fast horsepower.

he adores weaving between traffic, secret drag races, because the racers and humans react. it's either anger, frustration, awe or jealousy. makes his chassis get all warm knowing that just being in his alt-modes gains attention without applying much effort.

the thing is though - he does. constant buffing. avoids mud like the plague and never gets insects stuck in his grills. his bumper never gets scuffed and he might have found a car wash or two with easy on the optic workers who gladly accept fat tips and rub between his panels and exterior with feather light touches.

they don't look too much through his tinted windshield or question the pink fluids collecting near the drain when he zips off.

when he meets you, he's almost shaking when he learns of your hobbies.

a mechanic? and you spend hours in your garage just.. fixing up cars?

his spark stutters one day relaxing in your detached shed, as you mumble under your breath with your ungloved fingers coated in oil with the popped hood of an '99 ferrari, tongue licking sweat off your top lip so slow he has to lock his tires not to accidently skid the concrete.

"mmm, there ya go. shiny and just as gorgeous. bet i could go on a real fast ride with you now, huh?"

"kkkrrtt! my chick do stuff that your chick wish she could — chhhtk — krrrz!"

"oh my god, bee, please — hey! do not leak in my garage baby."

he has never made his attraction for you quiet.

it's difficult to course through radio signals in regular conversation but you always look so charmed when he chirps out song lyrics you know, so chatting you up during repair sessions is frequent.

once his leash has been loosened some and you're teetering ripping back the veil of platonic and more, you let him know the other aspect of your interests.

he stares at the shiny poster in your hands, watching you animatedly explain just what a "muscle car show" was. his brow ridge raises. okaay, you got his attention.

while you didn't expect to win (which he rolled his optics to because really, this is him you're talking about), it'd be fun. it would only last a few hours. all he has to do is sit still and look pretty.

look still and look. pretty. his flaps flutter, proud. damn straight he's pretty.

when you roll him to the flat plain one saturday afternoon, his wheels look brand-new and his hood has signature, thick black accents.

even has that "new smell" to him, rubber flawless and paint with that glittering coat.

fancy little bastard managed to get some butterfly doors. you coo between his engine revving he's being such a little show-off.

what he didn't expect was the constant attention to be so distracting. it's warm and there's an internal message to start blasting his cooling fans because his temperature is starting to up a tick.

there's so, so many cars. yet he's fully in the center, which means at times he feels like he's being surrounded.

bumblebee takes a gander while he plays some old rock softly to cover the fizzle of his motor, eyeing the classics and more modern bodystyle frames.

almost beeps when you bend down to show a man his chrome mufflers. your hands run along his rims and he's starting to feel.. funny.

"damn. how'd you get such a sexy car?"

"ahh... magician never shares their tricks. wanna feel the inside?"

cue the radio shorting out, because suddenly his doors are unfolding and men and women alike start to crowd him, cooing and taking pictures.

the sensory overload from curious palms smoothing over his dash? you lean into him to adjust his mirror and cheekily grab the clutch. his engine roars.

"you know. i never thought i'd say i fuck a sports car but jesus, you've outdone yourself... oh, cmon, how much you selling for?"

"my bumblebee? girl, i ain't ever putting him up for sale. he's my sweet stallion."

his processor is humming. angles his frontal mirrors as you keep teasing him, even going as far to spank his bumper slightly before bragging about the genuine leather interiors and letting his admirers lounge inside, encouraging them to ask questions.

exhaust slips from pipes as he tries not to let the electricity cloak his frame suffocate when you press a silky smooch on his window. the kiss-mark looks like it's been left behind on foggy, shower glass.

is it a shocker you win? nope. easiest $5K of your life.

there's a final round where you get to drive him around a lap so motor-enthusiasts can gander a final time. he's almost thankful the announcements echo because you're leaned over the wheel, chest pressed up near the horn.

"you like that? you did so fucking good."

"tcccthtt -- whoa, baby you're killin' me! "

"aww, don't get shy. there's a warehouse four miles west from here. take us there. i wanna thank you."

his speedometer breaks when he drifts right out and down the highway, wind zipping back your hair as your laugh cackles out ajar windows.

pure nsfw.

the golden-black charger rumbles down the highway. it's minimal interference, though the turn signal never flashes and it's difficult to see any drivers or passengers inside.

pebbles pluck up and ding the exterior, which is such a shame, because it's such a pretty car!

however, that isn't on anyone's mind at the moment.

bumblebee tries not to hydroplane, because it'd be stupid dangerous and it's not even raining. but you're a tsunami, a distraction of disastrous proportions. your hand is shoved down your shorts and you trail down your tummy before the straps of your underwear twist.

it's a wildly salacious position. your right leg is hiked up on his - your - dash. your left hand rubs vigorously while the right squeezes his clutch and rubs the silver button positioned at its knob.

his engine snarls. his radio glitches and you can hear the rhythmic churn of metal buzzing and gurgles that suggests he's trying to speak.

"yeah? yeah? such a pretty speedster, bee. f-fuck. you're so hot. you're the best."

"breeep!"

"awww, haha -- nnf, did you just honk?!"

the opening to a dilapidated hanger lingers on the horizon. he bulldozed through gravel and rolls up his windows fully to avoid any flying in your face. your hair is messy and both of your feelings are floundering, the beat of your heart loud in your ears.

he can't erase any of this. those wet cries have his intake salivating with lubricant.

there's a wet spot on the driver's seat and he's almost mad that he can't lick it off.

transforming mid-kneel, you're gently shoved out and his servos snatch at you like a toddler with a toy. his bright, blue gaze edged needy when he's pawing off your clothes and manhandling you to get up on his lap.

his pedes scratch against the concrete for purchase. he's whipped. he's so fragging on edge. all the compliments, all the comments, all the touching - he's gonna overload.

let's just say you two aren't getting back to base for the night. especially not with that wry grin on your lips, before you rub down his body like melted rubber.

robolvrr 2024.

[coqhee]

 ﹙✧﹚ㅤㅤ TO THE MOON AND BACK, I LOVE YOU

ALT ✷ you never liked astronomy until you met han taesan, your crush since freshman year. in an attempt to get closer with him, why not drag along the boy that's been there all along? ∘ ∘ ∘ catalogue \ romance told

西村力 x f!r ―ㅤ fluffㅤ comedyㅤ &&ㅤ f2lㅤ ⨯ㅤ 3533

em's note ★ yay!! first romance: told fic out!! it only took this long!!! hope the anon who requested it enjoyed :3 btw I've never been to a planetarium lawl...

─── ♡

when you found out that your crush, han taesan, was taking astronomy for an elective in senior year, you immediately put that down instead of your originally planned “late arrival”. a free point five elective credit AND a chance to see your crush one last time? hell yeah. but then came the realization—you had no idea who else was in the class, and the last thing you wanted was to be stuck alone with a bunch of people you barely talked to.

so, naturally, you turned to nishimura riki. the weird boy that you had always been friends with since before you could even fathom. 

“riki, please take astronomy with me,” you had begged, practically hanging off his arm.

“absolutely not,” he had deadpanned, barely looking up from his phone. “i’m not trading MY late arrival so you can go the tan haesan.”

“it’s han taesan, but whatever. don’t leave me alone.” you had whined, poking his shoulder. “what if everyone sucks? what if i end up next to some weird freshie who smells like expired milk?”

“then don’t take a class that would have freshmen in it?”

"but jungwon is taking it," you pointed out, as if that was all the reasoning he needed.

riki sighed, finally glancing up from his phone. “so? what does that have to do with me?” riki hates to admit it but he knew he would already be talking to his counselor the next day to swap out his cherished sleep period.

you huffed, dramatically slumping against his shoulder. “because I don’t want to suffer alone,” you mumbled. “i need my best friend with me.”

at that, riki stiffened for just a second before rolling his eyes. “you’re so annoying,” he muttered, but you caught the way his lips twitched—like he was already considering it.

“please?” you dragged out the word, gripping his sleeve and giving him the best pleading look you could manage.

“fine,” he grumbled, shoving his phone into his pocket

you beamed, throwing your arms around him in excitement. “i knew you loved me.”

“yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but his ears burned a little red.

he made it sound like a hassle, like you had dragged him into it against his will. but really, it wasn’t like he needed much convincing. if there was anyone he’d willingly lose his late arrival period for, it was you.

─── ♡

on the first day of the new year after summer break had ended, you walked into period 1 to see taesan already sitting in the middle row, scrolling through his phone. your heart did that stupid little flip it always did when you saw him, and for a split second, you forgot riki was even behind you.

“oh my god, you’re so obvious,” riki muttered, elbowing you in the side as he followed your line of sight.

“shut up,” you hissed, shoving him back before making your way toward an empty seat behind where taesan was sitting. 

before you and riki could bicker further like you always did, class started to your dismay and it was finally starting to settle in that the two of you were in for a class, neither of you cared about. 

riki let out an exaggerated sigh as he slumped in his seat. “this is your fault,” he whispered, tapping his pencil mindlessly against the desk. “we could be in bed right now.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “oh please, you would’ve just spent that extra hour playing video games.”

“exactly,” he grumbled. “prime gaming time, wasted on stars.”

before you could retort, the teacher started going over the syllabus, droning on about assignments, projects, and participation. you tried to pay attention, but your gaze kept flickering to the back of taesan’s head, watching the way he absentmindedly spun his pen between his fingers.

riki caught you staring and groaned. “this is painful to watch.”

“then don’t watch,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

he gave you a deadpan look. “i have to. it’s like witnessing a car crash in slow motion.”

you stifled a laugh, “shut up and take notes.” shoving his hand back to his paper, away from doodling on your fresh blue, 70 page, college rule notebook. 

“uh huh”

you shook your head, turning your attention back to the front just in time to hear the teacher announcing partner assignments for the semester-long project.

“please let me be with riki,” you whispered under your breath, fingers crossed beneath the desk.

riki hummed in agreement. “i swear if i end up with some guy who doesn’t know the difference between a planet and a star, i’m dropping this class.”

but, of course, fate had other plans.

“y/n l/n and han taesan.”

your stomach flipped. riki turned to you slowly, horror written all over his face.

“no way,” he whispered.

but there was no taking it back now. taesan turned slightly in his seat, a small smile tugging at his lips. “guess we’re partners,” he said, voice smooth and easygoing.

“yeah,” you breathed, hoping you sounded normal and not like your brain had short-circuited.

riki gagged dramatically beside you.

“nishimura riki… you’ll be working with…oh, looks like we have an odd number, you can join y/n and taesan,” the teacher called.

riki perked up instantly, all traces of his previous horror vanishing. “oh, sick,” he muttered under his breath, shooting you a victorious smirk.

you, on the other hand, were caught between relief and something dangerously close to disappointment. you weren’t even sure why—you wanted riki to be your partner, didn’t you? but now, instead of getting to work one-on-one with taesan, riki was right there in the middle, like a human buffer.

taesan didn’t seem fazed, though. he turned back to you both with a nod. “works for me.”

riki leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “yeah, totally. wouldn’t want my best friend suffering alone.”

you elbowed him under the desk.

the teacher moved on, and taesan shifted slightly to face you. “do you guys wanna meet after school to start planning?”

“sure,” you answered at the same time riki groaned.

the rest of class went by in a blur, the lecture on introductory astronomy terms barely registering in your brain. every so often, your gaze would flicker to taesan, watching the way he twirled his pen, the way his lips pursed ever so slightly when he was concentrating. it wasn’t fair how effortlessly cool he looked doing the most mundane things.

“you’re doing it again,” riki muttered beside you, barely moving his lips.

“doing what?” you whispered back, eyes still locked on the front of the classroom.

“staring at him like he hung the stars in the sky.”

─── ♡

riki had been enduring your hopeless crush on han taesan for seven full days now, and, frankly, he was over it.

“you know, i really just don’t get what you like so much about him. he’s just a guy,” riki muttered, barely dodging the kick you sent his way from across the library table.

“oh my god, shut up,” you whispered harshly, glancing around to make sure no one had overheard. “and just a guy? you make it sound like i’m drooling over some random dude.”

riki raised an eyebrow. “you are drooling over some random dude.”

you ignored him, instead recalling your advances towards taesan, convincing yourself that it was going just great. 

on the second day of class, and you had strategically chosen to sit beside taesan instead of riki, much to the latter’s dismay. you figured starting small was the way to go—nothing too forward, just a simple, friendly compliment.

“i like your hoodie,” you had said, giving him what you hoped was a casual but cute smile.

taesan barely glanced up from his laptop. “thanks, my mom got it for me.”

…that was it. no follow-up, no return compliment, no you’d look good in one too—nothing. you had expected something to work with, but instead, he had gone right back to typing like you hadn’t even spoken.

gosh, it was like he wasn’t even interested in you.

on the fourth day of class when you figured you were going to make another attempt to talk to him. 

“oh, i saw that you listened to understand by keshi on your story” you had mentioned casually as you slid into your seat beside him. “such a good song.”

taesan had nodded. “oh yeah, it’s good.”

you had stared at him for a moment, waiting for anything more, before finally just pulling out your own notebook in defeat.

and of course, riki, from his seat across the room, had been watching the entire thing unfold, shaking his head in barely concealed amusement. riki had been patient—far more patient than he normally was—but after an entire week of watching you fumble through failed attempts at flirting, he had reached his limit.

"alright," he announced, slamming his notebook shut. "i can’t take this anymore."

you blinked at him, caught off guard. "what?"

"this," he gestured wildly between you and the table, "this pathetic, one-sided crush. you’re driving me insane."

you scowled. "wow, thanks for the support, best friend."

he ignored you, leaning forward with an exasperated sigh. "look, it’s not happening. you’ve tried, like, four different approaches, and taesan has given you nothing to work with. it’s time to move on."

"i can’t just move on," you grumbled, crossing your arms. "it’s not that simple."

"oh, it’s that simple," riki countered, standing up and grabbing his bag. "and you know what? i’m gonna help you."

you eyed him warily. "help me how?"

he smirked. "by showing you what it’s like to actually have fun with someone who does pay attention to you. plus i already bought tickets to the studio ghibli movie fest for tonight and the rest of next week, so you’re going.”

“you’re joking,” you gasped with excitement, jumping up and down, loud enough for the two of you to get kicked out of the library. but who cares when you could go see ponyo tonight, howls moving castle tomorrow and every other ghibli movie for the rest of the week.

he shook his head with that familiar, comforting smile, "this is already more fun than whatever you thought you had going on with taesan," he said, nudging your temple with his knuckles.

you sighed, leaning into his side for a moment. "yeah," you admitted, and for the first time in a week, you actually believed it.

─── ♡

throughout the week, you still found yourself looking for taesan, but not nearly as much as you used to.

by the third night of the ghibli fest, you had almost forgotten why you had been so fixated on han taesan in the first place. between sneaking in your own snacks, debating over which ghibli protagonist had the best character arc, and riki dramatically reenacting scenes on the way home, your mind was too occupied to obsess over every little interaction with taesan.

but that didn’t mean you never looked for him.

in class, your eyes still wandered toward his seat before you could stop yourself, scanning for any hint that maybe he had started to notice you back. but taesan was always the same—calm, polite, distant.

“you’re doing it again,” riki muttered under his breath, flipping his pen between his fingers.

“doing what?” you asked, even though you knew exactly what.

you shot him a glare. “i’m not staring.”

riki gave you a pointed look.

“…i was just glancing,” you clarified, sinking into your seat.

he snorted. “whatever helps you sleep at night.”

but the thing was, riki was right.

taesan was never rude—if anything, he was nice in that effortless, detached way that made it impossible to tell whether he actually cared about your presence or was just being polite. he answered your questions, acknowledged your comments, but never extended the conversation past necessity.

and after a week of being around riki—who never once let a moment fall flat, who filled every second with banter, laughter, and the kind of easygoing energy that made everything feel lighter—you were starting to realize just how dull it was trying to get taesan’s attention.

“hey,” riki nudged your arm, bringing you back to the present. “movie’s at seven tonight. spirited away. we’re going, no excuses.”

you sighed, but you couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. “yeah, okay.”

maybe looking for taesan wasn’t worth it anymore.

on the final night of the ghibli fest, you and riki found yourselves in your usual seats—middle row, slightly to the left, close enough to the screen without being too close. you had gotten used to this routine by now: sneaking in snacks, arguing over who got to hold the drinks, riki making dramatic commentary under his breath just to annoy you.

but something about tonight felt different.

it could’ve been the way that he already had bought your entire movie theater snack order before you even arrived, the way your heart skipped when he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "if this movie makes you cry like you always do, i won’t judge,”

“i never cry at movies,” you shot back, ignoring the way your face felt weirdly warm.

“uh-huh,” riki smirked. “that’s what you said during my neighbor totoro, and yet—”

“i had something in my eye,” you interrupted quickly, shoving a handful of popcorn into your mouth to avoid further discussion.

it felt like it could’ve been normal, but the air between the two of you had shifted, and part of you didn’t want to jump to a conclusion or even admit that it had shifted to begin with by any means.

he just chuckled, settling back into his seat. but his arm stayed where it was, fingers still lightly tapping against your shoulder. while you should’ve been focused on the movie, every fiber of you wasn’t. instead you were focused riki, taking a second longer glance everytime the two of you leaned over to make some dumb and stupid comment.

when the movie was over and riki had teased you for how you cried once again, you rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag and following him out into the cool night air. but as you walked side by side down the quiet street, the warmth of his arm against yours lingering like an unspoken thought, you couldn’t help but wonder—

when did everything start feeling like this? 

since when did your heart start beating so fast, pumping so much blood it felt exhilarating just being around riki.

you didn’t know when it started.

you just knew that it had.

─── ♡

the next day in class, you found yourself sliding back to the seat next to riki as usual, all of a sudden not finding the back of taesan’s head that interesting. 

you were doodling on your page listening to your teacher explain the moon’s orbit in relation to earth, then somehow get onto a tangent about the moon’s symbolization in cultures.

before you could zone out completely, the teacher clapped their hands together, bringing the class to attention.

“alright, everyone! before we continue, i have an announcement—next friday, we’ll be taking a class field trip to the planetarium.”

your head perked up at that.

“you’ll need to complete a small assignment while we’re there,” the teacher added over the mix of groans and excited whispers. “but other than that, you’ll have plenty of time to explore.”

immediately, you turned to riki, already knowing he’d be your partner. he was grinning, kicking your foot under the desk. “guess that means we get a free pass to mess around.”

“or,” you corrected, “we could actually pay attention.”

he snorted. “we both know that’s not happening.”

you just rolled your eyes, shifting back in your seat as the teacher dimmed the lights to play a video about the moon’s phases.

a few minutes in, riki nudged your elbow. when you glanced over, he was pointing at his notebook, where he’d drawn a very questionable-looking moon with a lopsided smile.

you bit back a laugh. “what is that?”

“the moon,” he whispered, as if it were obvious. “but, like, happier.”

you shook your head, flipping to a new page in your notebook. with a few quick strokes, you sketched out your own version—a smoother crescent with little stars around it. riki peeked at it and scoffed. “show-off.”

you grinned, flipping your pencil in your fingers. “you’re just mad mine looks better.”

“whatever,” he muttered, turning his attention back to the video—but not before sneaking one last glance at your drawing.

toward the end of class, as you were packing up, taesan passed by and nodded toward your desk. “what were you two so focused on?”

before you could answer, riki shoved his notebook under his arm, grinning. “just academic excellence.”

you snorted, and taesan just gave a small, amused nod before heading out. once he was gone, you turned to riki with a knowing look.

“academic excellence?”

“obviously,” he said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “what else would it be?”

you just laughed, shaking your head as you fell into step beside him.

─── ♡

the planetarium was dim, lit mostly by the soft glow of the exhibit lights, casting shadows across riki’s face as he stood beside you. the hum of other students echoed faintly in the background, but you hardly noticed.

the two of you took your seats underneath the large screen and gazed up into the above, admiring the way the stars swirled in the galaxy. 

just how small the two of you were in the giant universe, yet here this moment existed for just the two of you to remember.

you smiled softly to yourself. there was something comforting about it all. something warm and endless and beautiful.

but you didn’t notice the way riki never looked up.

while you sat there, eyes wide with wonder, his gaze never left you. not even for a second.

he watched the way your lips parted just slightly in awe, the way your eyes shone under the artificial starlight. how still you became when you were lost in something you loved. and maybe it was dramatic—maybe it was just the darkness, or the quiet, or the closeness—but in that moment, you looked more magical than any of the stars above.

“the earth and the moon: an eternal dance. though nearly 400,000 kilometers apart, the moon’s pull shapes the tides of the earth. it never strays far, always orbiting—faithful, constant. even in darkness, it reflects light. it stays.” the narration continued on,.

you smiled faintly and pointed up. next to you, riki followed your gaze, then tilted his head.

“sounds kind of dramatic,” he murmured, nudging your elbow. “like some tragic love story.”

you continued looking at the spherical projected figure, amused. “i think it’s kind of sweet. the moon never leaves.”

riki hummed in response. then, so quietly you almost missed it, he said, “i’d stay, too.”

your breath caught in your throat.

you tried to play it off with a gentle nudge to his side. “stop being weird.”

you finally looked down, ready to say something about the way the moon was just so pretty.

riki was already looking at you.

and he wasn’t embarrassed about it. he didn’t look away, didn’t pretend to be interested in the show you’d both come to see.

his eyes were soft, unblinking. like you were the one he had come for.

“you’re not even watching,” you whispered, voice shaky, heart louder than it should’ve been.

riki tilted his head, lips curving into the smallest smile.

“i am,” he said quietly. “just not the stars. or the moon for that matter.”

you froze, breath caught somewhere between your chest and your throat. he didn’t look away. not even for a second.

“you know,” riki continued, voice just low enough for only you to hear, “if the moon really is 400,000 kilometers away, i think i love you to the moon and back,”

“riki…” you whispered, unsure what you meant to say next. you felt breathless, like the words were still catching up to the moment.

but he only leaned back slightly in his seat, his shoulder brushing yours. “you don’t have to say anything,” he said, softer now. “i just… i wanted you to know.”

your fingers twisted in your lap, eyes flickering back up to the stars for just a second, like they might tell you what to do next. they didn’t. they just kept spinning silently across the domed ceiling, beautiful and endless.

you turned to him again. “i think,” you said slowly, “that maybe… maybe i’ve been looking in the wrong direction.”

he looked at you then—not surprised, but quietly hopeful. like he’d been waiting for you to realize it.

“yeah?” he asked, voice steady but a little too careful.

you nodded. “yeah.”

suddenly, the stars or the moon weren’t the brightest thing in the room anymore.

and somewhere above you, the moon kept orbiting the earth. steady. constant. never fully leaving the planet’s side.

@ coqhee 2025. all rights reserved.

[servndipityz]

namgyu with alternative reader? perchance.. smut🫶🫶😁

a/n ── i'm so nervous about this one! i hope i didn't do a terrible job on portraying alt culture (i know nothing about it). i kinda tried to make it not super specific so anyone can feel identified. again, sorry if it's lowkey bad. it's also my first time writing smut, believe it or not, but i've had years of experience reading it so i don't think it's that bad. enjoy :)

STRIPPED

warnings ── smut, +18 MDNI!!! porn w plot. drug usage, sex under the influence, sex in a club, fingering, orgasm denial, degradation, light choking, kinda brat taming? p in v, unprotected sex, creampie.

word count ── 4.6k

he'd ended up there. of course, he'd ended up there. only someone as unlucky as him could wind up at some fucking goth party. or punk. or… whatever. he didn't really care about the whole thing—the dramatic makeup, the dyed hair, the incredibly loud music blaring through the club. none of it.

nam-gyu had envisioned a chill night on his free day, but no. of course, his co-worker had to get sick. of course, nam-gyu owed him money for the pills he'd given him last week. of course, he had to cover for him that night.

and, of course, it was alternative night at club pentagon. usually, his co-worker handled these kinds of nights—special events, themed parties, all that.

what did nam-gyu know about alternative culture anyway? he wondered the same thing as he weaved through the crowd, making sure everyone was having a good time, keeping an eye on bar sales.

so far, he'd been stepped on twice—not too bad, except when it came from one of those platform boots everyone seemed to be wearing. those hurt like hell. but at least the night was going smoothly. for now.

so good, in fact, that nam-gyu figured it was time for a drink. he'd been working for hours, making sure this party ran smoothly. he owed that co-worker a lot of drug money, and this was the only way to settle it. it’s not like he’d ever do this out of the kindness of his heart.

he made his way to the nearest counter, resting his elbows on the cool marble as he waited for someone to take his order. he couldn't help but wonder how anyone could actually dance to this loud-ass english music that sounded more like screaming. he'd take the regular techno dj any day.

meanwhile, you finished pouring a vodka red bull and handed it off to yet another customer. that's when you noticed him.

he stood out—not in a good way.

hunched over the counter, inspecting it like he might find some cocaine stuck in it (which, honestly, he probably would if he looked hard enough), looking like a wet rat. his clothes gave him away. who even let him in like that? plain black shirt, black jeans, a couple of rings.

he looked up as you approached.

his first thought was that your leather top made your tits poke out. his second was that, without all that emo makeup, you'd actually be pretty cute.

his third was what the highest-alcohol-content drink he could order was.

he opened his mouth to ask, eyes flicking to the bottles behind you—

but you spoke first.

"you're ruining the vibe, man."

he frowned, caught off guard.

you just raised an eyebrow, speaking over the loud music. "i said, you're ruining the vibe."

"i'm not doing anything," he scoffed, annoyed. he just wanted to order his damn drink. last thing he needed was some lecture.

"exactly," you said. "you don't belong here. what are you even doing?"

not like you actually cared. you were here to do your job, bartend, make money, go home. but this guy—standing there, stiff shoulders, sharp jawline, judging everything and everyone, probably without even realizing it—looking at you like that, eyes dragging over you like you were some kind of curiosity—

yeah. he rubbed you the wrong way.

being alternative, you already got judged enough. the last thing you needed was someone doing it at an alternative party.

he frowned even further. "i'm here to work. not that it's any of your business."

that caught you off guard for a second. "you work here?" your head tilted, curiosity slipping into your tone. you leaned over the counter, the neckline of your top shifting just a little lower. who knew—if this guy was someone important, you had to use all your charms. especially after being so rude. "i've never seen you around, and i always bartender at these kinds of parties."

his gaze flickered down your cleavage before snapping back to your eyes. but you saw it. the way his jaw clenched, the way he suddenly looked more annoyed than before—like he was mad at himself for looking.

"i'm not thrilled either," he mumbled, clearly uninterested in conversation. "just covering for a friend. now, could you actually do your job and get me something to drink?"

you bristled at his tone, raising a brow as you turned to the shelves of bottles. "jeez, someone's grumpy. what can i get you?"

in reality, nam-gyu wasn't grumpy. well, he was, but that was just how he was. it was just... for some reason, you made him nervous. the girls he usually dealt with at clubs were boring bitches trying to get a VIP card or whatever drugs he had in his pocket.

you were the opposite. rude. annoying. and he didn’t like that. but for some reason, it made his blood rush somewhere else, clouding his brain.

"just give me a shot," he said after a pause. "something strong."

you turned your head slightly, a smile playing on your lips—the kind that sent a shiver down his spine. you walked back to the counter, reaching for a bottle hidden underneath.

"drinking on the job?" you asked while pouring the liquid into a shot glass, then casually grabbing a second one.

nam-gyu let out a short, amused huff. if drinking was the worst thing he’d done on the job, he’d be in a much better place. but he watched curiously as you poured the second shot, his eyes flicking up through his lashes, brow slightly raised.

"what?" you asked playfully. "if you’re doing it, so can i."

you finally set the bottle back and raised your glass. he mirrored you, his eyes never leaving yours. there was something in his expression—almost a smile. you entertained him.

"cheers," you said, clinking your glass against his before downing the shot in one go. he followed suit, setting the glass back on the counter, suppressing a grimace at the sharp burn of alcohol.

“so,” you said, clearing your throat slightly after the shot. “who’s the friend you’re covering for?”

nam-gyu said the name, and your eyes widened.

“that junkie, huh?” you smirked. he chuckled. “yeah, i know him. he’s a little more talkative than you, though.”

nam-gyu narrowed his eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing. it’s okay to be shy.” your voice was innocent, teasing, calculated. you'd decided that you'd had enough, that you might as well have some fun. “anyway, my shift’s almost over. wanna get out of here?”

“i’m not shy.” he sounded offended, then glanced away, considering your offer. “and i told you, i’m working.”

you huffed. “fine. just needed someone to smoke this with." you reached into your back pocket and pulled out a tiny zip-lock bag filled with greens. "guess i'll have to find somebody else."

now that caught his attention. maybe almost as much as your exposed skin did. suddenly, he was interested. but also suspicious.

“what do you have?” he asked, leaning slightly over the counter, his voice lower, more serious.

“your junkie friend gave it to me for a gig i did. said it’s good shit.” you shrugged, playing it cool, acting uninterested—like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. and he took the bait.

“why would you wanna share it with me?” he still sounded wary, but there was something else in his tone now. curiosity. maybe even something close to interest.

you groaned dramatically. “look, i’m heading to the staff room. you coming or not?” you said, already turning away, signaling to your co-worker that your shift was over.

now, nam-gyu didn’t need weed. not exactly. he could probably find ten of those zip-lock bags hidden in his place, forgotten in favor of other, harder drugs. but he also wasn’t the kind of guy to say no to free drugs.

especially not from such a petty girl.

you grinned to yourself as you felt him rush to walk behind you, trailing after you through the club like he didn’t know the way like the back of his hand.

as you reached the hallway leading to the staff room, nam-gyu couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on your half-ripped fishnets, the way they framed your legs under that short black skirt. was he here for the weed or for you? he wasn’t really sure, and he didn’t care much.

you finally reached the door, slipping past a few couples too caught up in each other to notice, and he shut it behind him. the staff room was small, dingy, and reeked of bleach and cigarette smoke, but you still sank onto the worn-out sofa next to the table like it was the most comfortable place in the world.

you leaned back, stretching your legs out just enough for your skirt to ride up slightly. not too much—just enough to make him notice. and he did.

nam-gyu stood near the door for a second, like he was reconsidering this, before scoffing to himself and dropping onto the couch beside you. he was close, not touching, but enough that the warmth of him was noticeable. enough that when he exhaled, you could feel the faintest brush of his breath against your shoulder.

"roll it," he said, nodding at the bag in your hand.

you raised an eyebrow. "you're really bad at asking nicely, huh?"

he just looked at you, serious. "you’re really bad at shutting up."

that made you laugh. he was watching you now—really watching you—as you pulled out the papers, fingers working effortlessly, licking the edge just to see his reaction. you weren’t disappointed. his jaw flexed again, his eyes dark, tracking your every move like he was trying to pretend he didn’t care. like he wasn’t already leaning back, manspreading, trying to act like he had the upper hand here.

cute.

you tucked the blunt between your lips, lighting it, taking a slow drag before passing it to him.

nam-gyu hesitated, just for a split second, then took it, bringing it to his mouth. his fingers brushed yours in the handoff, and it was stupid how that tiny touch sent something sharp down your spine. or maybe it was just the way he inhaled, head tilting back, exposing the sharp line of his throat as he exhaled, smoke curling lazily from his lips.

you licked yours.

the weed hit, slow and warm. the music outside was muffled, the sounds of the party fading into the background, leaving only this—dim lighting, the scent of smoke and alcohol and something else, something charged.

"you always do this?" nam-gyu asked after a beat, voice lower, lazier. "lure random guys into the staff room for a smoke?"

you smirked, tilting your head. "only the rude ones."

he huffed, shaking his head, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch like he was trying not to smile. he passed the blunt back, his fingers lingering just a second longer this time. you let them.

the room felt smaller. warmer.

"you always this uptight?" you asked, taking another slow hit. "or just with me?"

nam-gyu let his head roll against the back of the couch, watching you through heavy-lidded eyes. "you always this annoying? or just with me?"

you exhaled smoke, letting it curl between you. "you like it."

he didn’t answer. but he also didn’t look away.

you were both leaning back now, legs almost brushing, breaths slow and measured like you were both pretending not to notice the heat building between you.

nam-gyu wet his lips, head still resting against the couch, eyes flicking to your mouth before he caught himself and looked away. like it was a habit. like he was trying so fucking hard not to slip.

you took one last hit before stubbing out the blunt in the ashtray beside you. then, shifting slightly, you turned toward him, letting your knee press against his thigh. deliberate. slow. testing.

"you're staring," you murmured.

he scoffed, but it came out weaker than he probably meant. his hands clenched into fists on his thighs like he was keeping himself still on purpose.

"you’re high," he muttered, looking away.

"so are you." you tilted your head, voice dropping, playing with the edge of your ripped fishnets like you weren’t watching the way his gaze followed the movement of your fingers. "and what, does that mean i can’t see the way you’ve been looking at me all night?"

nam-gyu exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "i haven’t been—"

"you have," you cut in smoothly, shifting closer, feeling the warmth of his body now, solid and tense. "you’re mad about it. i can tell."

his jaw clenched.

"tell me," you purred. "are you mad because you don’t like it? or mad because you do?"

his fingers twitched on his thigh. his breathing was heavier, controlled, like he was still fighting it. fighting you.

so you leaned in, lips just close enough to ghost over his ear. "it’s okay," you whispered. "you can touch me."

and that was it.

nam-gyu moved so fast you barely had time to smirk before he grabbed you by the back of the neck, his lips crashing into yours, hot and desperate, all teeth and pent-up frustration. his other hand found your waist, yanking you onto his lap, and fuck—he wasn’t holding back anymore.

he was done fighting it.

and so were you.

his lips were all heat, all pressure—nothing hesitant, nothing soft. you barely had a second to adjust before his teeth caught your bottom lip, his fingers gripping the nape of your neck like he wanted to own you. his other hand, firm on your waist, yanked you flush against him, and fuck—he was hard.

not that he acknowledged it. not that he’d ever admit that you’d done this to him.

your knees bracketed his hips as you settled onto his lap, rolling your hips down just enough to feel him. his grip tightened, nails digging into the meat of your waist. he hissed against your mouth—half warning, half surrender.

“you don’t play fair,” he muttered, lips grazing your jaw now, teeth scraping skin, testing.

your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt. “neither do you.”

his hands dropped—one to your thigh, sliding under your skirt, fisting in the torn mesh of your fishnets. the other traced the curve of your ass before shoving you down against him again, this time deliberate, a slow grind that made both of you exhale sharp.

his breath was uneven, warm against your throat. “you think i haven’t noticed?” his fingers curled, gripping tight enough to bruise. “the way you’ve been—” a sharp pull at the fishnets, a rip, cool air hitting skin—“fucking teasing me?”

you laughed, half-gasping when his tongue flicked against the pulse at your neck.

his fingers dipped, pressing against the damp heat of your panties, no patience, no hesitation. his other hand was now tangled in your hair, keeping you locked right where he wanted—breath hitching as he rubbed slow, teasing.

then his hand moved, fingers slipping beneath the fabric, warm against your skin, sliding between your thighs. the first touch was barely there, just a single fingertip running along your slit, slow, teasing.

you squirmed, but he didn’t let you go. “look at you,” he murmured, mocking, the pad of his finger dragging over your cunt, pressing just enough to make you shudder. “all that attitude, but you’re already—” he exhaled sharply, felt it before he even had to say it—so fucking wet.

"fuck," he muttered, more to himself than to you, his forehead resting against yours for a second like he was trying to collect himself. but his fingers were still moving, sliding along the slickness of you, testing, exploring, spreading it just enough to make you squirm.

"yeah?" you murmured, voice breathy, teasing. "you like that?"

his only response was a low, quiet curse under his breath before he pressed his fingers in deeper, the tips just barely pushing inside before pulling back, slow and torturous. he was watching you now, eyes dark and half-lidded.

and then, without warning, he slid one finger in, slow but firm, curling just enough to make your breath catch. your nails dug into his shoulders, and his other hand tightened on your hip, holding you steady.

"fuck," you whispered, rolling your hips into his touch, chasing it, needing more.

nam-gyu chuckled, low and smug, and then he added a second finger, stretching you just a little more, fucking you slow and deep with just his hand. the angle was perfect, his fingers pressing against that spot inside you that made your toes curl, made your breath come faster, needier.

"you’re so fucking tight," he murmured, more fascinated than anything, watching the way his fingers disappeared inside you, the way you clenched around them. he twisted his wrist slightly, his palm pressing against your clit as he fucked you with his fingers, setting a rhythm that had you grinding against him, chasing that pressure.

your moan was quiet but desperate, and he smirked, eyes flicking up to yours.

"you always this easy?" he murmured, his voice taunting, dark.

you opened your mouth to snap something back, but then he crooked his fingers just right, pressing deeper, and your words dissolved into a gasp, your head tipping back. his lips were on your throat a second later, sucking, biting, leaving marks you’d have to cover up later.

his pace picked up, fucking you harder with just his fingers, each drag of his palm against your clit sending another sharp wave of heat curling low in your stomach. the room was quiet except for the sound of your breathy moans, his heavier breathing, the slick sounds of his fingers working you open.

"you gonna come?" he murmured against your skin, his voice rough now, strained.

you swallowed hard, your fingers tightening in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. "fuck—don’t stop," you breathed.

nam-gyu felt it—felt the way your body tensed, the way your thighs shook against his hips, the way you were right there, so fucking close. he could see it too, in the way your mouth parted, in the soft, breathy little gasps escaping your lips, the ones you were trying to swallow back like you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

but he wasn’t that generous.

just when you thought he’d let you tip over, when your body clenched down around his fingers so tight he could barely move them, he pulled away.

just—gone.

the sudden loss was so sharp, so fucking unfair, that you let out a frustrated, needy little whine before you could stop yourself, your hips rolling forward, chasing after the feeling, after his hand, anything. but nam-gyu just sat back, bringing his wet fingers up to his lips, slipping them into his mouth with a slow, deliberate hum.

"mm," he mused, tongue flicking over them, eyes locked on yours. "not bad."

"are you fucking kidding me?" you were panting, legs still shaking where you straddled him, your body on fire, needing more, needing anything. your eyes flashed, your hands curling into fists against his chest like you were two seconds away from either punching him or ripping his shirt off.

he just smirked. "what?"

"you—" you gritted your teeth, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. "you’re such a fucking asshole."

nam-gyu chuckled, low and lazy, his hands dragging up your thighs again, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just to remind you he still had you exactly where he wanted you. "maybe, but you're still here," he murmured. "still dripping for me."

"yeah, because you didn’t let me cum, you dick," you snapped, rocking forward again, grinding against him, feeling the hard, thick press of him through his pants. he was just as worked up as you were, and you could tell—he was trying to play it cool, but his breathing was heavier, his fingers twitching against your skin like he was barely holding himself back.

that made you smirk. "ohhh," you taunted, rolling your hips again, slower this time, watching his jaw clench. "that’s why, huh? you’re hard as fuck and don’t wanna finish before i do."

his eyes darkened, his grip tightening on your hips. "watch your fucking mouth."

"or what?" you leaned in, brushing your lips against his ear, letting your breath tickle his skin. "you gonna do something about it?"

that was it.

one second you were teasing him, playing your little game, and the next you were flat on your back, your spine pressing into the shitty, worn-out couch, his body caging you in. his hand was already shoving your skirt up, fingers hooking into your panties and dragging them down your thighs, not even bothering to be careful.

"you talk too much," he muttered, voice rough, breath hot against your jaw.

"and you do too little," you shot back, just to push him, just to make him snap again.

it worked.

his hand was on your throat, not squeezing, just there, just pressing, just reminding you that he could if he wanted to. his other hand yanked at his belt, the metal buckle clinking as he undid his pants, as he shoved them down just enough to free himself.

fuck.

you’d felt it before, pressing against you, teasing, but now you saw it. thick, flushed, leaking at the tip, the kind of length that made your thighs press together instinctively, made you bite your lip even as you refused to let him see you flustered.

nam-gyu saw it anyway.

"knew you wanted it," he muttered, running the head of his cock along your slit, dragging it slow through your wetness. "acting like a brat, but your pussy’s already begging."

"shut the fuck up and—"

he pushed in, just an inch, just enough to make you gasp, make your nails dig into his arms.

"yeah?" he exhaled sharply, his jaw tight, like he was already holding himself back. "that what you wanted?"

you barely had time to adjust before he thrust forward again, burying himself deep, stretching you in one slow stroke that left your back arching, your head tipping back against the couch.

"fuck—"

nam-gyu groaned, low and almost desperate, his forehead pressing against yours as he bottomed out, as he let you feel every fucking inch of him.

"you feel that?" he murmured, breath ragged, his hips rolling just a little, just enough to make you whimper. "how tight you are? how you’re fucking squeezing me?"

you couldn’t answer. you couldn’t think. all you could do was feel—the way he filled you, the way he stretched you, the way he stayed there for a second, teasing, waiting, making you want it more.

you swallowed, trying to catch your breath. "you gonna move, or you just like teasing your own dick?"

his laugh was low. then he pulled back and slammed into you, knocking the breath from your lungs.

"fuck—"

your back was pressed against the couch, legs spread wide, thighs trembling as he held you open. his body caged yours beneath him, one hand pinning your wrists above your head, the other gripping your hip, keeping you still as he drove into you with rough, unforgiving thrusts. his cock filled you completely—thick, hot, deep—dragging against every sensitive spot inside you, making you gasp with each desperate slap of his hips against yours.

"you gonna be good now?" his voice was low, ragged, dark with amusement. his grip tightened, fingers digging bruises into your skin. "or you still wanna run your mouth?"

you tried. you really did. you opened your lips to snap something back—something mean, something cutting, something to remind him you weren’t easy to break.

but all that came out was a choked moan as he grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his.

"that’s what i thought," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot, his mouth just barely brushing yours, teasing. "bratty little thing—talking shit. but look at you now."

his hand wrapped around your throat, fingers pressing just enough to keep you in place. not squeezing. just controlling. just owning. his other hand slipped between your bodies, two fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles over the swollen bud.

"fuck," you gasped, your hips rolling up instinctively, chasing that pressure, that friction.

nam-gyu chuckled, low and smug. "yeah? you like that?"

you wanted to tell him to fuck off. you really did.

but then he twisted his fingers just right, his cock hitting that spot inside you at the same time, and your body jerked, your moan breaking into something desperate.

"that’s it," he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw, his pace still brutal, relentless. "don’t fight it. you wanna cum, don’t you?"

"yes—yeah," you panted, nails scraping against his wrist where he held your throat.

he pulled back suddenly, dragging his cock out until only the tip remained, making you whimper at the loss. his fingers abandoned your clit, and before you could protest, he did something worse—something filthier.

he spat.

the wet warmth of it landed directly on your pussy, slick and obscene. your whole body jolted.

"fuck—" your breath stuttered, your back arching as heat shot through you.

nam-gyu groaned at the sight, at the way you clenched, the way your body reacted so instantly, so helplessly.

"you like that, huh?" his voice was thick with satisfaction, his fingers dragging through the mess, smearing it over you, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles.

you shouldn’t. you really shouldn’t.

but the heat in your stomach coiled even tighter.

"say it," he ordered, his voice rough, his cock pushing back inside you, stretching you open again, slow and deep, making you feel every inch. "tell me you fucking love it."

your pride cracked. your body betrayed you.

"fuck—i love it," you gasped.

nam-gyu groaned, his breath hitching, his pace quickening. "good girl."

and then his fingers returned, rubbing messy circles over your spit-slicked clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, pushing you higher, harder—

you were already close. too close.

"fuck—fuck, i’m gonna cum," you choked out, hips jerking against his hand, against his cock, chasing it. "please—please don’t stop—"

and this time he didn’t.

he fucked you through it, his fingers never letting up, his pace relentless, driving you higher, harder, until it finally snapped—

your orgasm hit like a fucking wrecking ball.

your body clenched down on him so tight he cursed under his breath, his rhythm faltering for the first time. the pleasure crashed over you, your whole body shaking as you moaned through it, loud and wrecked, the sound swallowed by the shitty little staff room.

"fuck—fuck, yeah, that’s it," nam-gyu groaned, his grip on your hips bruising now, his thrusts rough and desperate as he chased his own release. "god, you feel so fucking good—"

he buried himself deep, his breath stuttering, his cock twitching inside you, and then he was coming, his grip tightening, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he groaned low into your skin.

for a second, all you could hear was the ragged sound of your breathing, the quiet hum of the party outside, the distant bass thudding through the walls.

nam-gyu exhaled, slow and shaky, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your waist, still holding you, still pressed against you.

then he pulled out, groaning at the sight of his cum spilling out of you, dripping between your thighs.

he smirked, dragging a lazy finger through it before pressing it against your lips.

"open," he murmured.

you did.

and fuck, the look in his eyes when you sucked it clean—

you were so fucked.

© servndipityz 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content without my permission.

[sl003]

SESE's Fic Recs Part 2 (ATEEZ)

Hi and hello! Today, i present to you the second part of my fic recs because i spend waaaay too much time reading stuff on here when i should be working on my own stories, hahah :) I just have so many ideas that it's hard to stick with one, you know?

Anyway, it's the same as before, the fics will be sorted by members, my all time favourites are marked with a "♡". And as this one is a bit shorter than the previous one, you can be sure that this one will be updated from time to time.

You can find the first part here:

SESE's Fic Rec (ATEEZ)

And as you can probably notice by these fic recs, i'm a sucker for long ass fics, i just love them so much! (no hate to shorter fics, they're just as good!!!)

Warning: Some of the fics will have a bit of "commentary" from me below them, these might contain spoilers for the fics, just so you've been warned.

Once again, a giant thank you to all the incredibly skilled and talented authors out there for creating these masterpieces!!! <3 You deserve all the love for doing what you do and allowing us to read and take part in that!

And because I have a habit for reading and recommending a lot of fics from the same authors, i'll just tag them once in this even if there's more than one fic. hope that's okay :)

Anyway, have fun reading!!!

PS: if any of the links are wrong or don't work, feel free to tell me so i can try and fix it.

KIM HONGJOONG

Philoselene - @ncteez (6.2k)

alt!stoner!hj x kinda!detached(?)!reader

♡ It Can't Be That Hard - @seung-hwa (12k)

brother's best friend!hj x reader / college au / exes to lovers

i'm a sucker for the "brother's best friend" trope, so it was already quite clear that i was going to love this. and well, i was right with my suspicion. the dynamic between all the characters is just so *chef's kiss*. i kinda felt bad for yunho, though... that guy has been sneaking his way into my heart lately, so no surprise there... (i mean the thing with the knitted hat? so damn cute!)

Cry For Me - @yeostinys (3 parts)

ceo!hj x secretary!r

this is normally not a plot that i read very often, but this was so incredibly good, oh wow. reader is really a bit of a crybaby, but like in a so not annoying way, you know? i loved it, read it.

♡ I'll Let The World Burn - @koyagifs (3.4k)

dragon rider!hj x dragon!r

this was such an interesting read because reader is a dragon in this one. but i love how their close bond was portrayed and it was so sad... i was this close to crying, i'm telling you. but i loved every second of it.

PARK SEONGHWA

Where Water Turns To Flame - @sungbeam (6.1k)

dragon!sh x dragon!r

♡ Playing With Fire - @ateezmakemeweep (5 parts)

(kinda)sugar daddy!sh x daughter's bff!r

hoooly shit. this was a rollercoaster. a real good rollercoaster. the relationship between the reader and seonghwa is so sweet and hot at the same time. (tbh, during the time eunbi and mrs. park were mad pissed at reader, i was kinda on their side, because if i was in their shoes, i'd be as well, but like i get the reader too, cause it's hwa) and i also love the dynamic between reader and eunbi, especially after the whole shitshow that went down, when eunbi is chill with reader and seonghwa's relationship, it's so hilarious.

JEONG YUNHO

Love Again - @xomakara (6.1k)

single!dad!y x single!mom!r

Guerrilla - @sorryimananti-romantic (27k)

doctor/serial killer!yh x crime author!r

♡ You Can Run But You Can't Hide - @bvidzsoo (25.8k)

vampire hunter!yh x vampire!r

i've been a little vampire fanatic since i was a child, so i really like vampire tropes. and i've especially come to like the vampire x vampire hunter pairing (probably cause of my love for enemies to lovers). the tension between them is crazy and i love it. the detail that did it for me though is the one with feeling pleasure from the biting and drinking from each other. i remember that i've read something with that a very long time ago, and it stuck with me since then. so finally seeing this in a fic again was sooo cool, it's just so intimate. and the small cameos (if you can call it that) of mingi and seonghwa? so tragic, yet so sweet.

Summer's Dive - @santheestallion (30k)

brother's bff!yh x reader

i've actually only read the first part to this, somehow i haven't gotten to read the other two (i think it's two other parts?). until now i totally loved it, and i'm sure the other parts are just as good, i'll have to read them as soon as possble!

KANG YEOSANG

♡ Don't Lean On Me - @sweetinsaniiity (27k)

tsundere!outcast!ys x semi-stalker!r

i'm writing this one day after i read it for the first (and the second) time (11.01.25) and holy shit. in my previous fic rec i've stated that "entropy" (also a ys fic) is my all time fav fic, well this one just tied with it, if it has not even surpassed it (no hate to entropy, it will always have a special place in my heart), cause this is incredible. i love these type of fics and the way yeosang was portrayed here made me feel some type of way (in the best way possible). the small details and gestures from him, oh my god. seriously, if you're as yeosang biased as i am, you definitely need to read this. or just read it anyway, i'll force you if i have to <3

A World In Your Colours - @ bvidzsoo

daycare teacher!ys x florist!r (soulmate au)

CHOI SAN

Stay Focused - @beginningofwonderland (12.5k)

office worker!san x uni student!r

SONG MINGI

My Way - @ sorryimananti-romantic (18k)

guard!mg x princess!r

Orange Soda - @atozfic (13.4k)

single!dad!mg x reader / fwb to lovers

By Her Side - @arilevenatz (8.5k)

bodyguard!mg x princess!r (modern royalty)

i've never read anything like this before. obviously the bodyguard x princess trope is pretty common (and i eat it up every time) but not in the way this was made (with the age gap and all). when i read the summary, i was a bit unsure but i knew i just had to read it, and i was not disappointed. their relationship is so sweet and this fic? AMAZING. and as i'm writing this i'm realizing that i've literally just recommended two mingi fics with this trope, well what can i say? bodyguard!mingi is just *chefs kiss*

♡ Love Me Like A Rockstar - @ bvidzsoo (15 chapters)

uni student/local rockstar!mg x uni student!r

oh dear, i can't even begin to describe. as you can probably tell here, mingi has been on my mind a lot. and this series, wow. i've read this in one evening, i was so invested. tbh, reader was unnecessarily rude to mingi a lot, but like i get it because of her past (though letting it out on mingi wasn't really cool of her, i mean, it wasn't his fault). but seriously, this story is so amazing. from the detail of her suddenly starting to draw mingi instead of yunho to how mingi just suddenly starts being nice to her even if she's still behaving like a jerk. and just when their friendship (love their texting, by the way) starts to progress, reader goes and pulls that shit? i was hooked. and i also was totally on seulgi's side for a second when she called just to shit on reader hahah. anyway, such an amazing and sweet story!!! <3

JUNG WOOYOUNG

coming soon ... (i need to read more about him again, this is my sign)

CHOI JONGHO

♡ (Not) Another Love Song - @yourlocaljonghoe (11.5k)

uni student!jh x uni student!r (roommates to lovers)

her basically only being able to sleep when she listens to jongho's covers on youtube? so cute. and how socially awkward she is? it felt so relatable, because honestly? i'm the same way. normally, i enjoy reading fics with a more confident reader (something that i'm not, but i like to pretend) but it also feels so amazing to read something with a socially awkward reader like here. and the way he covers the song she was talking about to him just like a day earlier?? now that, folks, is love.

POLY/MULTIPLE

♡ Compass Of The Heart - @velvetvisionsaurora (ongoing series)

pirate au // hj x r / sh x r / mg x r / yh x r / wy x r

oh my god. this story is so precious to me you don't understand. the scenes from when they were children? i could have cried. and the way each of the boys has a nickname for her is so cute. and i'm such a sucker for her relationship to mingi. i love the way he is written as like the guy that doesn't talk much and the deep connection between them is so sweet. and generally the way everyone treats her, i love it. i get so excited everytime a new chapter of this gets posted.

Hope you enjoyed these, because i certainly did!!

'Til then, bye bye <3

-Sese

[radioactiverats]

Mentor Starscream x seeker!reader

This is a mashup of all the timelines basically (._.) Starscream has been on the brain recently... In the firsts of a long journey, I have gotten my first two blokees from blind boxes (Grapple and Ironhide). Let's see how long it'll take me to get Starscream TvT

-----------------------------

Ever since you joined the Vosian Air Academy as a young cadet, Starscream had been there. Everyone knew who Starscream was. How could you not, when he was such a high-profile cybertronian? You thought that the most you would ever see of him at the academy was his printed frame on the glossy posters stuck up everywhere - some with motivational slogans, some showing off some genuinely impressive flying maneuvers, and some advertising the war effort against the Quintessons.

Understandably, it came as a surprise to learn that he would be personally taking on your first year tactical maneuvers class.

Even before your first class, rumours ran rampant. Starscream is very strict, your fellow cadets whispered, in tones of both fear and admiration. You're fragged if he picks on you. Better avoid his punishments. Didn't you hear what happened to the bot who failed to execute his instructions the first time?

Your apprehension, however, was definitely outweighed by admiration and curiosity. No matter how snappy he seemed, your future instructor was still the Air Commander of Vos, which was no small feat. Unlike several other government positions which required the right connections rather than skills, Air Commander was not a position one could hope to take on without truly having mastered the skies.

The first time you see him, you, as well as many others, are instantly in awe of his commanding presence. He's taller than you thought, frame polished and his beautiful wings a shimmering white. The sharp lines of his faceplate and the delicate point of his chin exemplify his graceful form, and his optics flick over the new recruits in a calculating manner. The expression on his faceplate is severe, as you expected, but not cruel. He barks out a command for you to get in a line, snarling when inexperience clashes with the rush to obey, several of you crashing clumsily into each other.

"Finally," Starscream snaps, when you eventually arrange yourselves in a semi-straight line. "If you lot cannot execute even the simplest of commands, how do you expect to survive the war?"

It sounds harsh, but he's not wrong. It sinks in again that you are here because, despite all propaganda saying otherwise, it seems that the war against the Quintessons is not going well. Why else would there have been a mass recruitment exercise? You, and the rest of your class, are going to be shipped straight off to war when you graduate the academy. As the reality of the situation sinks in, Starscream's words suddenly seem less like a scolding and more like a warning. You straighten your frame a little more, shoulders back, chassis out. If the Air Commander himself is giving you tips on how to survive the war, by Primus, you're going to listen.

Starscream announces waspishly that you are going to learn how to do a breakaway maneuver today.

"Everyone," Starscream threatens, "and I mean everyone, is going to perform this maneuver successfully within this solar cycle, or there will be consequences. Understood?"

There are only a few weak "yes sir's" from the line, but Starscream simply scoffs and chooses not to waste his time enforcing a show of authority. It's clear from the wide optics fixated on him that he's already won your admiration.

"Watch," is all he says, before he's smoothly transforming before you into his alt-mode and, with a cacophonous boom, blasts off into the stratosphere.

All of you can't hold back your shouts of amazement as you scatter from your haphazard line to get a better look. The F-15 dips and twirls though the sky, slicing through fluffy clouds like butter before slowing to a stop. Then, as all of you watch with mounting excitement, Starscream begins his demonstration - the F-15 begins to gain speed, faster, and faster again, until you're certain he's going to break the sound barrier and blip into nothingness - when suddenly, the jet swerves at a supremely clean ninety-degree angle without losing any of its speed.

All your classmates are shouting and hooting at the frankly incredible demonstration, even as Starscream transforms back into bot-mode and comes to a smooth stop in front of you. It might have been your imagination, but his plates are drawn less tight around him, and he exudes a breathless, self-satisfied air. This you can understand - all seekers would agree that the feeling of flying is second to none.

You're dreamily replaying Starscream's demonstration in your processor, and startle when a finger jabs into your field of vision. Your optics cycle, and you freeze when you realize that none other than Starscream is towering right over you, a calculating sneer on his faceplate.

"You," he snaps. "Seems that you have a very clear recollection of my demonstration, have you not?"

You nod, unable to speak, and watch with rapt fascination as his intake curls into a smirk.

"In that case," Starscream drawls, "you should have no trouble going first, hmm?"

You stiffen. The upperclassmen had warned you about this - Starscream tended to choose cadets he could make examples of, for better or for worse. But as you meet his optics, it's not cruelty you find - but a challenge.

"Well?" Starscream says. "We don't have the entirety of the solar cycle to be standing around like idiots."

The rest of the cadets have fallen into an almost horrified silence - yet, you can feel the relief emanating from the others that they haven't been picked. You prickle at that. You've not been picked to take the fall - you look at Starscream again, full in the faceplate, a simmering defiance beneath your plates. A hand on his cocked hip now, his optics boring into yours, daring you to accept. You remember what you saw in his faceplate the first time. Severity, sure, but not cruelty.

What if, you wonder, it's all been a misconstrued. Starscream doesn't pick on the weaker ones. He picks the ones who look like they're up to a challenge - and by Primus, you are going to impress him or die trying.

You stride up to a patch of open land, engines thrumming as you prepare to take off. The initial feeling of leaving the ground behind, launching yourself into open space always thrills you. You transform, and waste no time in accelerating with a sonic boom - soaring higher and higher and higher, engines warm and your processor humming with the ecstasy of flying. Slowing to a hovering stop, you take in the tiny figures of your classmates below you, so small they look like dots.

You accelerate, slicing through cloud after cloud after cloud and, it's now or never - your engines scream as you twist as sharply as you can to your right, narrowly avoiding careening off balance as a burst of speed aids your recovery. Energon thrums through your frame with the adrenaline of it all.

"Not bad," comes a raspy voice from your left. You almost tumble out of the air in shock. Starscream, in his alt-mode, soaring alongside you. Had he been here the whole time? "Descend, cadet."

Both of you reach the ground in tandem, with you still reeling from the shock of Starscream flying beside you, staggering ungracefully as soon as your pedes hit the ground.

"Our first volunteer was able to execute the maneuver on their first attempt," Starscream says. His optics are still fixed on you, appraising. If you look really hard, you might detect a hint of satisfaction, dare you say, at your performance. "I expect that the rest of you will have no trouble following suit."

And by some minor miracle, your entire squadron does manage to pull the maneuver off by sundown, even if Starscream does lose his temper here and there.

"Primus, he's a slavedriver," one of your classmates moans. "I can barely feel my wings anymore." And it's true - your own frame screams from exertion, but you've accomplished more in a single day with Starscream than with any other instructor. The ache in your frame is well-earned, and your respect for Starscream has only grown - he might be snappy on the outside, but the careful way with which he'd guided each cadet through the maneuver did not go unnoticed.

The first stellar cycle passed by reasonably uneventfully, but you were proudly able to say that you'd distinguished yourself as one of Starscream's top pupils - his optics would soften ever so slightly when it came to you. Unfortunately, the rest of his hard work would go abruptly up in flames. An unexpected Quintesson attack on the Air Academy had left you the sole survivor of your entire squadron. And before you even had time to take in this shocking loss, the miner Orion Pax had exposed Sentinel Prime for the fraud he was and been reborn as Optimus Prime. Just like that, the Cybertron you had always known split into two factions. The Quintessons had always been a common enemy - but now, this looked grimly like civil war.

In the aftermath of Sentinel's downfall, Starscream had searched for you, first thing, something akin to panic in his optics. "Thank Primus," he muttered. "Come, we have no time - " And you looked around you as Cybertron split before your eyes, seekers taking to the skies to follow the bot now known as Megatron. Starscream seems to sense your hesitation, and pauses.

"I-" he begins, servos clenching into fists as his wings hitch upwards. "I will not question your decision." You can see it though, in every trembling iota of his frame, that he wants you to come with him. And, glancing behind you at a crumbling Cybertron, the only thing familiar to you is Starscream - you decide right there and then that you would follow him to the ends of the earth.

You meet his optics as you launch yourself upwards, and are nearly knocked back by the overwhelming relief that you find. No matter what the uncertain future holds, you are certain that Starscream will always be there.

Megatron, your new leader, dubs you the decepticons. A few vorns pass as your exiled group finds its feet - Starscream has been made Second in Command. You expected no less. And you suspect that the reason you've made it so long without major incident is that Starscream has been secretly shielding you from the worst of your leader. However, with each stellar cycle you grow restless - you miss Cybertron, your homeworld, and you begin to question Megatron's cruelty. That was where he and Starscream differed - Megatron's harshness stemmed from outright cruelty, whereas Starscream's severity was never without reason. Did you choose the wrong side, after all? You find yourself disagreeing with most of your leader's bloodthirsty ideals - yet, Starscream is still here. And surely, you couldn't go wrong by staying at his side?

Watching Megatron make an example of a fellow seeker is the last straw for you - he'd forced every decepticon to watch as he pummeled dents into their delicate frame, ripped wires and leaking energon and battered wings when he was done. You'd turned away and shot off into the skies without a second thought as soon as he'd left. Heel thrusters screaming as you push yourself further, you rocket though the atmosphere until you see the twinkling of the stars in deep space - so close to zero-gravity, every inch of your frame screaming at you to get as far away as possible, when suddenly, you're thrown off-course by a large servo clamping onto your pede.

You shriek, but what's even more shocking is the fact that it's Starscream who has a death grip on you.

"How- how did you-?"

"I trained you, in case you've forgotten," Starscream snarls. "Of course I know your maneuvers."

Both of you fall silent for a few nanokliks. "If I let go," Starscream says, "are you going to jet off?"

Silently, you shake your helm. Honestly, you can't remember the last time that it was just you and him. Megatron's been very demanding - the air commander looks ragged, plates pulled tight with anxiety every time you see him, which was rarely.

Starscream lets go of you with a ragged ex-vent, both of you hovering in place.

You're genuinely not sure where to go from here. You processor spins with the implications of the future at the hands of a violent warlord, at a war that has no end in sight. A war is something you want no part in, but it seems your choices are limited - the battered frame of the seeker flashes through your processor, and your desperation surges once more - you are this close to leaving everything you've ever known behind, if it means escaping the horrors of the war.

"Stop running," Starscream hisses. There's a pinched look on his faceplate, and your wings droop for a nanoklik - guilt sparks though you as you consider the fact that Starscream has been on the receiving end of way worse treatment. Your duty is to him - you feel ashamed that you even considered leaving him behind. But unexpectedly, Starscream ex-vents, and he looks more tired than you've ever seen him.

"I don't want this, either," he mutters. "You - you're all I have left. I understand wanting to run from the war, but..."

It goes unspoken, but you hear him loud and clear.

Don't run from me.

"I can't... I can't help you if you turn away," he says, eventually. You move a little closer, enough for your EM fields to brush - there's guilt there, as if he's blaming himself for putting you in this position - protectiveness, too, and you realise for the first time that Starscream genuinely sees you as his charge.

You're deep enough in the fighting as is, but damned if Starscream isn't determined to see you through this war unscathed.

"Anything happens," he rasps, an oddly open look in his optics. "You come to me. Understood?"

Caught in a war you want no part in, you're aware that Starscream is trying to shield you from the worst of it while he attempts to make the best of a horrible situation. At the very least, you know he has your back, and you hope he knows that you have his.

"Yes, sir!"

Next

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 5, Drive me crazy

Masterlist Word count: 1.9 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: This one is a doozy. I was a little stuck and I hope this makes sense. Next chapter will explain a little more about Sylus' life before moving next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

1 pm and you're just now making your first coffee along with your breakfast/lunch. You're not used to late nights anymore. Not like you were when you were still in school and partying. Well, "partying." Aka movie night with your friends and making stupid drinking games around the movies you were watching. 

Lucky for you, it's Saturday. You've got a whole weekend left to fix your sleeping schedule. Fixing is a big word. Make it so that you've at least had seven hours of sleep before you get to work. 

While lazily reading Tara's dramatic retelling of getting Kieran into bed, you notice a notification. One that usually only pops up when Red Crow, or Sylus, posts but it's Saturday. That's not his usual schedule. Frowning, you check the notification. 

Red Crow liked your comment: "Raw, next question." 

You feel as if you've just shat out your heart. "Cocky," you think to yourself as you tap the notification. It takes you to the comments under the video from last night and that's when you notice it... Your biggest nightmare. 

You were horny on main instead of on your alt account and now he probably knows it was you. But now comes the real big question. Do you leave it there as a testament to your thirst for him, or do you delete it in hopes he hasn't noticed it was you to protect your sanity? You scroll a little through the comments and quickly notice that Sylus never likes any comments. "Shit, he definitely knows." 

Still, you decide to delete the comment. If he saw it when he was drunk yesterday, then maybe there's a chance he doesn't remember or was just fucking around on his phone. The moment the comment disappears from your screen, there's a knock at your door. You're not sure who it could be. Maybe it's Tara. Did she leave anything yesterday? Or Kieran forced by Tara to apologize? But he would go to Sylus’ house for that. 

By the time you're done wrecking you're brain, you're already opening the door and there stands the one and only Sylus. Suddenly there are no more thoughts in your brain, just the picture of Sylus in front of your door wearing grey sweatpants and a black tee that seems a size or two too small. You can see every muscle on his stomach and chest through the shirt. However, that's not even the best part. The best part is that he stretches and moves one hand behind his neck, making his tee rise up and showing the little happy trail that you've salivated over more times than you'd like to admit. 

'Hey, sorry to bother you but I'm out of coffee.' 

'Go to the store,' you grumble and try to close the door again but he pushes against it. 

'Let me try that again,' he says, a playful but subtle grin on his lips, 'I'd like get to know you better over coffee. Preferably at your place.' It seems getting your brain fried is a regular occurrence when Sylus is around and you are suddenly awfully aware of how you look. 

Yes, you showered this morning, but you aren't exactly dressed. You threw on a shirt and a big sweater over top with some absurdly stupid miffy pajama shorts. Your words get stuck in your throat and you only seem to be able to mutter out a weak: 'Why?' 

He chuckles in response, the sound rumbling through his chest. 'You intrigue me. I'm curious what's going on in that pretty little head of yours.' 

"He called me pretty," is the only thought that sticks and you want to hit yourself over the head for only picking up that part, but you remind yourself of the video he had made after meeting you. He must have ulterior motive. 'Nothing else?' A sly smirk appears on his face, like he had been banking on you asking a question like that. Like he had been practicing his response, and it comes out sticky as honey. 

'Only with your willing participation.' You try to keep your bratty attitude but it's hard when he is so damn beautiful and so damn close and so damn hot. Goddamn! 

'In your dreams, big boy,' you sass, 'come in before I change my mind.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

There's a tense sort of feeling as you both sit on your couch with coffee in your hands. He keeps watching your movements, almost as if he's studying you or stalking his prey. It makes you feel on edge and at the same time, insanely turned on. To push him off balance, you decide to ask a question that had been hanging in your head for a while now. 

'How'd you get into it?' 

'It?' He's teasing. His lip quirks up into a smirk again. He wants to hear you say it, hear you say what he does, wants to watch your reaction to it. You feel strangely alien in your own space. 

'Porn.' You try to keep a straight face, but you can feel your ears heat up the slightest bit, and he fucking notices. You can tell he fucking notices. He's noticed everything so far. It's so fucking hot and so fucking annoying at the same time. You can only imagine how attentive he would be as a partner. 

'I was doing voice acting for a while and got hired for some smut books,' he explains like it's the most normal thing in the world, like it's the same as any office job, 'and I liked reading those books and the reaction people had to my voice. So, I tried my hand at posting some pictures of myself to see if people liked my voice and my body. After that I kind of rolled into it.' He takes a second to study your reaction and then asks you: 'And what do you do?' 

'Interior decorating.' He nods. 

'So I should've met you before I started decorating my place.' 

'I don't work for free,' you retort. 

'Neither do I,' he says, that damn smirk on his face again, 'but your reaction was more than enough payment for that video.' You're sure you're bright red now. 

'I didn't request your services.' Why did you invite him in? Are you that desperate? He puts his mug on the coffee table and takes yours out of your hands to set it down next to his. Then he leans over you, one arm on top of the backrest of your couch, the other gripping the armrest behind you. Naturally, you lean back a little bit, tilting your head up to look at his face. He doesn't look predatory, nor dangerous. In fact, you feel like if you would say no right now, he would go home in an instant. It's strangely comforting. 

'See it as a free trial.' He is impossibly close, closer than a stranger should be. Then again, you're not really strangers, are you? You are to him, but he's been on your mind for quite some time now. He's toying with you, he seems to want you for some reason. Barely knows you but it feels so familiar, so nice. You feel desired and... sexy. 

'A free trial for what?' You absentmindedly bite your lip. A low groan slips from his lips in response, and he shifts his position on the couch. With one swift motion, his one leg is kneeling on the couch while he pushes your legs onto the couch so you're laid underneath him, your back against the cushions. His lips are next to your ear now. 

'Worship,' he growls and ever so gently takes your earlobe between his teeth. You whimper in surprise. He lets go and moves on to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to your collarbones. 'Pleasure.' The hand that was on the armrest moves to your waist, slipping under your shirt and you shiver. 'And sex.' His words sound like a promise. A promise you would offer up your life for. You feel breathless as he leans back a little bit to admire your figure. That damn smirk of his, back on his lips as he sees your lust filled eyes. He definitely knows that comment was yours. 'What do you say?' 

'You don't even know me,' you manage to mutter. 

'I know enough,' he answers and leans down to press a featherlight kiss on the corner of your lips. A strange surge of despair rushes through you and suddenly your hands are behind his neck, entangled in his grey hair, pulling him towards your lips. 'So needy,' he teases, readjusting his knee on the couch to be between your legs, 'I thought you were worried I didn't know you. You wouldn't want to take advantage of me, would you now?' 

His lips are only a breath away from yours, his eyes stare into yours intently. You tell yourself it's just sex, yet there's something soft in the way he looks at you. Something you can't quite place, because he shouldn't be looking at you like that. You've only just met him. 'What are you thinking about?' 

'Why me?' He doesn't have a quick nor sly response to that. You can tell you've caught him off guard. His eyes widen a little and his head moves away the slightest bit, but you can't tell if it's because you've just asked the dumbest question in existence or because he does not know either. 

'There's something about you,' he tells you, his tone no longer teasing but as serious as he can get, 'it's intriguing and I want to find out what it is.' 

'Because I gave you a hard on when we first met?' He cracks. His serious demeanor disappears for a second, as does the sexual tension when he sits up on his heel trying to stifle a laugh. The hand that was under your shirt is now on his face, rubbing his jaw to hide his smile. 

'You've got a dirty mouth on you, sweetie,' he comments, trying to get back into it but you've already propped yourself up on your elbows with the cheekiest of grins on your face. 

'Shouldn't you be used to those kinds of comments by now,' you say, trying to provoke him even more. Truly, you don't know what it is about him that brings your brat out but you don't hate it. It's fun. 

'They're different when you read them on a screen,' he answers, sounding almost sincere. Almost. Only if you hadn't known what he proposed so sweetly just a minute ago. 

'Maybe you take me out some time and I'll try to behave,' you offer, feeling as daring. This is all so new for you but it just flows. There's no good reason for why you feel this way and yet it's fucking exhilarating. You don't want any of it to stop, but your ovaries are running your brain right now and you can't trust them. Not when it comes to men. They've shown that to you before. You need a second to calm down before you engage in anything that could someday become regrettable to you. 

Though you probably wouldn't have minded sleeping with him right here and now. 

Sylus doesn't answer you, he just hands you his unlocked phone. You type in your number, already regretting it when you hand it back to him and see the grin on his face. You've just given him so much power to tease you. Well, you should regret it. You think you should. 

In reality you can't wait for what's to come. 

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[mygnolia]

take care of him, sunghoon's sick!

or alt. the pt 2 no one asked for... LOL

pairing: sunghoon x gn!reader headcannons! | wc: 800 | cw: food, sunghoon as a SIMPPP lots of kisses and cuddling

—

sunghoon does his best not to get sick whatsoever 

he’s an athlete and a student, if he gets sick he falls behind on a LOT 

but when he saw you in his puffer jacket and a smile at his competition, ofc he had to kiss you 

you were his one and only and he loves you to death 

simphoon! 

smiling ear to ear on the drive home as you tell him how cool he always looks on the ice

he gets SHY 

wdym his baby is complimenting him profusely 

you two  make food together, and although you’re still congested, you promise sunghoon you feel much better. 

makes soup and noodles 

yes he hugs you from behind yes he rests his chin on the top of your head 

the man is 5’11 (and i’m 5’4 mmmm how perfect)

one kiss leads to another kiss and suddenly you’re giggling from the ticklish feeling and how he’s annunciating every “mwah!” 

kisses all over your face 

he snuggles with you on the couch when you eat, and actually cuddles you this time 

“Someone’s clingy,” you joke, and he buries his head in your neck. “But it’s okay. I like it.” 

hoon is all blush blush

“It’s been a long time, I missed you,” HE’S SO POUTY AND BABIE 

You two definitely fall asleep with a light on, his legs tangled with yours, his hand around your waist holding you close. 

Uh oh!

Sore throat. 

“I think you got me sick.” You apologize like crazy, rushing to make him some egg drop soup and tea

“Shhh, Hoon, go back to bed, let me take care of you” 

oh the man is WHIPPED head over HEELS he’s like omg what did I do in my past life to get someone as caring as ____ 

He’s also whiny, and kind of quiet

he is a thinker and a listener so when he’s sick, he’s even less inclined to talk or be his usual rambunctious self 

It makes you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in such a miserable position 

But he promised you it’s not your fault (even though it is) and that it’s not as bad as you think it is 

no more feeling bad! You have to make sure sunghoon recovers as quick as he can 

You separate medicine into little containers and makes sure he always leaves with warm tea, cough drops, gloves, and any medication if he needs 

You drive him whenever, 1. because he is ur passenger princess! and 2. because you don’t want him to be stuck in traffic when tired

Always Always getting him layers 

and now it’s your turn to refuse his kisses and hugs. 

“____ I want to cuddle.” 

You shake your head, a smile threatening to break your stoicism. “You’re sick, baby. You don’t want to get me sick again, do you?” 

“But I miss you :(“ oh he definitely is following you around the house like a puppy trying to get you to give him forehead kisses and that sweet sweet tlc. 

He sends you voicemails when you’re busy telling you “hi baby i’m at home still are you still coming over today?” violent coughing “i mizz u and i wuv u”

AGH so whipped for this boy im…

you come over with more soup and cuddles and love 

he falls asleep halfway through his movie and you have to check his forehead to make sure he’s not having a fever 

dishes are CLEANED everything is put away and then you go sleep on the couch

now lets say the couch is huge and there is space for two 

WELL sunghoon wakes up in the middle of the night and sees you’re not in bed :(( so he goes out to the living space with his blanket and then just falls asleep on you 

and you wake up like wtf i cannot breathe??? 

but oh it’s just hoonie bb its okay 

HES SOOOOO CUTEEE 

messy hair covering his forehead and eyes as he sleeps on your shoulder, hot breath fanning your neck 

you just stay there until the afternoon because you could not try to untangle yourself even if you tried 

but he’s better! at least he says so 

he feels a lot more energetic, is attending practice for longer periods of time and more frequently, and you see the sparkle in his eyes again 

YAYYYY BB HOON IS RECOVEREDDDDDD 

you still dote on him until he’s completely better because you truly want to make sure he’s not overworking himself

agh he WILL marry you he will put a ring on your finger and boom you two have a white picket fence and two dogs and a cat. 

—

hello it’s me ren again 🤓 mmmwah i love hoon

[mylittleredgirl]

i know some of you have been pressing your faces to the glass waiting for me to see this one in particular SO i saw "the nurses" the other night and am still thinking about it!!

i love love love it when characters get pushed to a point where you can almost see their childhood selves pop out, like are they even talking about what's happening right now? or are their 12-year-old hearts just screaming?? i love that margaret's outburst is both irrational (the hostile work environment is coming from inside the house; i was yelling at my tv "baby it's your fault!!!") and so so honest.

[this turned into a bit of a character thesis, so not only is there a readmore, there will also be a reblog soon with the rest of the post because i maxed out the image limit] [edit: part ii now in the reblogs!]

this whole time, margaret has treated her subordinates with a heavy hand because she thinks it's the right and fair thing to do. the rules say this is how it works!

she maintains a high standard of excellence in brutal circumstances, but she's also reactive, moody, and unforgiving. she's often shown on the edge of losing control and authority, she inflames situations by overreacting, and the thing she punishes most egregiously is disrespect (toward frank, toward the army, toward herself). she intentionally underlines the distance between herself and the other nurses at every turn.

from season 3 "there's nothing like a nurse": [all IDs in alt]

really, everything she thinks and does comes from a place of "they're not supposed to like me," but the childish part of her that is completely unable to see her own behavior is confused and hurt because "i'm just doing my job so why don’t they like me???"

it's her job to maintain discipline, but especially here in 4077-land, she doesn't have to lead with the whip. henry was beloved because he was an overly permissive clown, which will never be her speed, but colonel potter has all the same training as she does. he's loved and respected as the Good Regular Army Guy because he leads with discernment and mutual respect.

it's easier for him. he's more experienced, he's respected and supported from above and below, and he has a calm temperament — which isn't nothing.

from season 4 "the interview":

whether she's aware of this as a problem or not, we at home can see how margaret's inability to control her emotional reactivity causes her as much grief as her inability to control other people.

if she were capable of laughing off small slights, hawkeye and trapper wouldn't have used her as a chew toy so much, and henry might have taken her real concerns more seriously if they weren't lost in the noise of daily fits, you know? she rarely started it, so i'm not blaming her for the hostile chaos circus of seasons 1-3, but i am saying she would have had a better time if she knew how to take a few deep breaths.

this description from the script, after the near-brawl in the nurses' tent in act one, is basically her character thesis statement:

and here, when she's reacting fully emotionally, the truth comes out! the reason that she won't be flexible and show compassion to the nurses isn't because of the rules, but because they're mean to her!!

that's obviously a very bad place to lead from. she has enormous institutional power over them, including controlling their freedom of movement, but she feels like all the other girls in school are hanging out together and they hate her. because they are! and they do! the fight in act one boils over when they make fun of her hair, and that sent all of them back to middle school.

and in many ways, that's where margaret's emotional maturity is stuck (which is, i think, why i find her so endearing). she can't see herself. she knows they don't like her, trust her, or want her around, but she doesn't understand how she dug this hole herself, or how to get out of it.

to add insult to jealous injury, one of the nurses (mary jo, who gets between margaret and baker to stop the fight and takes care of the others in different ways) is margaret's age, and the others look to her as their chosen leader and personal support.

and i'm sure margaret had NO IDEA this was the messy truth until she heard it come out of her mouth.

and her emotionally breaking on the "one lousy cup of coffee" in particular…

i wonder, how often does some version of that first tent scene happen? does she deliver their assignments every night? she walks in already defensive, they immediately stop laughing, and then... she either finds a reason to scold them or they ice her out until she leaves. (and they probably start laughing again as soon as she does!)

from her perspective, when she arrived for the dreaded sleepover and they turned out the lights the minute she walked in, it's like they cancelled the nightly coffee klatch just to avoid spending one social minute with her.

i also think the nurses are right when they assumed that she wouldn't have accepted an invitation to hang out with them (and might even have snapped at them for being inappropriate for asking). she doesn't cross that emotional line, even when she should — she didn't know gaynor was spiraling after losing so many patients in a row, and didn't respond compassionately when she learned.

has she ever invited them for coffee or a friendly chat? no.

...... but her circumstances have recently changed.

[reblog with the rest of it is here!]

[taffywabbit]

every time dilbert gets mentioned in a conversation/post i think about how hilarious it is that scott adams turned out to be such a deranged alt-right fuckwit, considering the fact that his comics indisputably radicalized me against capitalism as a kid and probably did so earlier than anything else

like there IS some pretty iffy stuff in dilbert for sure (particularly a lot of casual misogyny and xenophobia), and it definitely increased over time as the author got more edgy and self-important. i don't think i read anything from later than like 2003 and it was already starting to get pretty unreadable by then - LONG before he started openly being a turbo-racist podcaster weirdo. but the earlier stuff (especially before there were a lot of established recurring characters or running gags) was largely just a satirical cartoon focused on how corporations are evil and exploitative, and how you'd have to be completely detached from reality to truly enjoy working for them, and how trying to climb the ladder of success is a futile pursuit within a capitalist society where the upper class needs to keep pulling that ladder up behind them to keep the rest of us in our place and maintain their own status. it was basically vent art by a guy stuck working in mind-numbing desk jobs, who barely knew how to draw but just wanted to get his thoughts out and reach other people who were frustrated in the same ways he was. it's really weird but also fascinating to compare that to how it (and adams himself) ended up in the long run

i don't think it was particularly funny most of the time, and when it did have actual jokes, they were often pretty mean-spirited and/or cynical. i don't remember more than one or two specific bits from the comic that actually ever made me laugh, and i read a LOT of them as a kid (my grandpa had a massive collection of newspaper comic compilation books at his house that he'd let me look through and borrow stuff from - this is also how i discovered garfield and calvin & hobbes). but i DO remember having it instilled in me from an early age that there was nothing really exciting or praiseworthy about grinding your life away for a company that profits off your skilled labor and gives you pennies in return - which is especially noteworthy considering i was also raised by mormons, who are famously all about that "nobility in suffering" and "work your way to heaven" type bullshit. i'm genuinely unsure how this happened

anyways i think scott adams would probably piss his pants and explode if he ever took a break from peddling his psychic penis hypnosis and killer burrito podcasts long enough to seriously think about any of this stuff. (and i hope he does. it would be funnier than anything he's ever written.)

[lets-try-some-writing]

A fun concept,what if certain autobots/decepticons could open their faces like the animatronics in FNAF,I can see smokescreen pulling a foxy on The decepticons

Oooh I am here for this.

Transformation seams are present in every Cybertronian. Most of the time, their numbers and locations are limited, both depending on frame type and alt-mode. But occasionally, there are those who break the mold and have an excess. It's not necessarily a bad thing, often being compared to human hyperflexability when explained to the kids. But the excess seams do tend to have a few unintended side effects, such as the ability to move plating that would otherwise be stuck around the frame like a sticker to be peeled off and reapplied.

There are generally three different cases of excess seams coming into play outside of flexibility, usually in cosmetic fashions. First would be the ability to remove plating and get new armor entirely without pain. Around 5% of Cybertronians end up with this condition in some way or form and it is generally considered helpful since it allows for deeper cleaning of the protoform and temporary cosmetic changes without need for pain. The second case would be feral augmentation syndrome. Bots such as Orion Pax, those who grew up around animals or connected deeply with them and possessed the CNA for excess seams, have this condition. All it does it make their limbs more animalistic. Their jaws can open wider due to their facial protoform being highly segmented to allow for further stretch. Additionally, they are able to run on all fours perfectly comfortably due to being able to shift their plating around.

The last case, however, is the most terrifying. It is generally called proto-masking syndrome, and is only found in a starting 1% of those who come out with excess seams. Severity varies, the most minor cases leaving bots with the ability to contort their faces and mess with the metal. Severe cases allow bots to remove or transform their faces away without pain or issue. This is the one most find frightening.

Smokescreen happens to fall within this severe category of those afflicted with proto-masking syndrome. He doesn't know that he is weird and assumes almost everyone can do what he does, but simply fails to act out in large part due to politeness. As such, he doesn't transform his face away often, if at all. But when agitated, or trying to prove a point, he does instinctually transform his facial plating, and the very first time he did it for a Decepticon, horror stories formed instantly.

The bots have said exactly nothing about it to Smokescreen since it's not an issue and generally, it isn't nearly as unsettling as some of the things they've seen. But the Vehicons? They regard Smokescreen as the spark eater. The Autobots pet hunter. They try to keep clear of him as much as possible, especially when he transforms his face away. When that happens, they all assume he's going to eat them and bolt for safety.

Smokescreen is of the belief that he's just that good of a warrior. No one has seen fit to correct him yet. The kids haven't witnessed it yet and so have made no commentary. Bulkhead dreads the day they eventually see Smokey without his face. That will be a LONG conversation.

[railroadlion]

i love TOL so much its actually gimving me brain worms im a huge comic nerd and it gives off the same vibe as some of my fav comics ever like serenity rose or lost at sea or the gulf it feels like an old alt 'classic' i wouldv read when younger and changed my brain chemistry (it still is)... so so good and your paneling and page layout and characterisation all make it flow so well and its so easy to get invested in the characters.. jamie and santiago are real and They are my Friends... their dynamic and world feel so lively and real.... i love how you play with comic conventions in using the thought/narrative bubble and turning it into voiced speech its so clever and awesome... your inking is so alive and dynamic... i havent been this ThinkingAbout a comic in ages. would buy in print. ps do u have any comic reccomendations/what comics inspires you?

Thank you so much!! This kind of manic obsession is what all true comic creators dream of, so it touches my heart <3

My main inspirations for making TOL were black and white comics I read as a kid but didn't fully understand at the time, like Bone, This One Summer, and (like you mentioned) Lost at Sea!

Lost at Sea in particular was a huge emotional cornerstone for me when I was younger, and was one of the main reasons I kept TOL in black and white. I read it when I was too young to really understand what the characters were going through, but I could tell there was something really emotionally powerful going on below the surface, and it stuck with me into adulthood. The fact that the world in that story had been abstracted by only existing in black and white only made it more mysterious and fascinating to me.

I have such an affinity for B&W comics. It simultaneously makes a piece feel more obtuse and obscured without the specificity of color, but it also makes it all the more personal and unique to each reader who fills in the gaps with their imagination. That's what I'm going for with TOL anyway.

I know some people have only read comics like Bone and Scott Pilgrim in color because it adds a whole new level of artistic expression to enjoy in a story, but I encourage people to revisit their favorite comics if they were originally printed in b&w to see how different they feel without color.

As for other comics I recommend, I really love Blankets, Keeping Two, Ducks, and The Sculptor.

These are all sophisticated creme de la creme novels that really touch on some intensely beautiful themes, and I can't recommend them enough to people who want to read a comic with some real maturity.

But what if you like comics with action and fantasy and cool shit that are also top of the line? Then I recommend Kaya, Ultramega, Do A Powerbomb, and most importantly: Coda.

These comics are so amazingly well drawn and are told incredibly well, but Coda, drawn by Matias Bergara and written by Si Spurrier is probably my favorite comic ever and I recommend it to literally everyone. It's the comic that pulled me out of my era of reading shonen manga slop and made me start reading western comics obsessively.

The duo also made Step By Bloody Step, a comic told without any words- only pictures. This is the kind of thing you have to read if you want to really understand what the comics medium is capable of.

ANYWAY. That's my reading list. Creators like Hayao Miyazaki, Cliff Chiang, Moebius, Frank Pe, Kei Urana, and Ryoko Kui are also amazing and you should check out their works as well.

I'm making physical copies of TOL chapter 1, and at the end I'm also gonna include a reading list of comics made by indie creators who I'm lucky enough to call my friends for people to check out, but that's a post for a different time.

I hope people will read at least one book from this list. Thanks for reading my ramblings!