#but it's just me playing like any other player do

[breelandwalker]

Oh. Oh boy. A friend sent me this and my brain gears whirred into action. I know the poll is closed and doubtless other people have shared their opinions BUT both of these characters are favorites of mine and there's already a Witcher 3 vs Baldur's Gate 3 cinematic playing out in my head so....here we go.

If it came down to a flat-out pitched fight without an exit option, yes - I do agree that Geralt would probably snap our poor pale elf over his armored knee. Between Geralt's years of experience hunting vampires, his armor and combat prowess, and the habitual use of Black Blood potions to make his own blood toxic and weaken any vampire that gets within melee range, I think that's a fight that Astarion is not going to win, even as a higher-level rogue, unless he gets very lucky.

However, there are a lot of mitigating circumstances that might change the scenario.

First and foremost, Geralt has scruples, particularly when it comes to thinking beings. He's also technically a mercenary. He does not just go out and kill monsters at random. A Witcher's gotta eat and he prefers to get paid. So unless he received a contract or Astarion was openly endangering someone in Geralt's line of sight, there's every chance he wouldn't even bother with a single vampire spawn.

Second, readers of the novels and players of the "Blood and Wine" DLC will recall that Geralt has worked with elder vampires in the past, the most notable among them being Regis, who is considered an ally and perhaps even a friend. So again, this might lend itself to Geralt choosing to focus on a more dangerous (or more lucrative) target than one pale skinny vampire spawn giggling into his wine. (We're pretty sure it's wine.)

And on the other side of that, Astarion is a CHARMER. He's talked his way out of sticky situations before and there's nothing to suggest he wouldn't at least attempt to do so if faced with a Witcher. Much would depend on the circumstances (mostly the relative threat level or the presence of a contract), but it's entirely possible that Astarion could go, "Can't we discuss this like civilized people?" and roll high enough to either get Geralt to let him speak his piece or hesitate long enough for Astarion to run like hell or call for backup.

(Which puts me in mind of a crossover in which Geralt gets a contract, Astarion banters his way out of it, and they go after the contract-issuer together. That could be fun at a liveplay or smth.)

If we're talking Ascended Astarion though, all bets are off. That's a boss fight any day of the week and there's a chance that Geralt's normal measures might not work as well as he expects them too. In that case, the Witcher might just become a soda can, albeit a disappointing one. Then again, there's nothing that says the fight has to end in Geralt becoming a snack. If the point is simply to neutralize the threat, there's more than one way to skin a Witcher....

This can be any iteration of Geralt, but I'm picturing TW3

[hyunsuloves]

can u write myung gi x reader ?? shy reader who rlly doesnt like confrontation & talking to ppl but thanos keeps following them around maybe ?? or u can do (idk if u write for him) but daeho x reader ?? maybe during the mingle game, theres too many ppl in the group so reader leaves & finds other ppl (despite daeho telling them not to) daeho doesnt know if theyre alive until they get back to the main room ??

even if u dont write these i hope u have an amazing day!! i saw ur myung gi x reader n thought it was so cute >.<

i don’t know which way to go.

synopsis … you make a sacrifice in the midst of the mingle that leaves you without knowing if your boyfriend is alive.

pairing … kang dae-ho x gn!reader ༝༚༝༚ featuring in-ho who’s friends with the reader!

warnings … the way this is written is a little unclear, sorry 😓

lovely notes … i hope you like it ml !! & i changed the plot a little bit

꩜ [ 1.2k words ]

you, jun-hee, and dae-ho stood on the leisurely rotating platform. gi-hun and jung-bae stood not too far away, looking around the room in the same wary manner. you were in the early parts of a game called mingle. 

it was described as a game where players had to group up and enter rooms following a predetermined number. if the players didn’t make it into the rooms in time, or if the room had fewer or more players than necessary, they’d be eliminated.

the most childish music ever played as you stood, hand gripping dae-ho’s arm in a way that would’ve been painful if not for the adrenaline running through both your veins. 

the platform stopped abruptly, and the lights turned off for a brief moment before they started flashing purple and pink. 

the first number that was called out was ten. you were in a group of six, and the entirety of them looked around frantically, needing to find the four people to complete your group. 

“how many are you?” gi-hun asked a woman, hyun-ju you believed her name was.

“four,” she responded quickly. 

“that makes us ten.” jung-bae added. 

you all darted toward room 44, the green door. you made it in with one second left, mere moments before the latch would’ve clicked and left all of you to die. 

you stood in a corner, gripping dae-ho’s once again with such intensity. you saw gi-hun peek out the rectangle-shaped slit in the door before the sounds of gunfire filled the room. you made the safe assumption that anyone who didn’t make it into the room in time was eliminated, which was being shot to death.

“hey.” dae-ho whispered in your ear. 

you glanced up to see your boyfriend looking down at you with an affectionate look in his eyes. something as small as basic eye contact with him calmed your entire body. you felt the tension leave your shoulders as you allowed yourself to take a deep breath.

it felt odd to find yourself relaxed in such a strenuous environment as the one you are in now, but maybe it was just the effect that your boyfriend had on you. 

“just stick with me, okay? i got you.”

“okay. thank you, dae-ho.”

each person stood in the room, taking a moment to catch their breath before going out to the death game you all knew you couldn’t avoid. it would be another number called, and you’d have to scramble to find a certain number of people once again.

the door unlocked with a click, and you found yourself standing next to dae-ho on the rotating platform once again. 

as the first round, the platform stopped, the lights turned off for a fleeting moment, and then they began flashing obnoxiously.

the next number that was called out was four, and you were in a group of six. you couldn’t risk any of your friends dying, so you quickly made a move to leave the group.

“i’ll go.” young-il spoke. 

“i’ll go with you,” you said without hesitation. you wanted dae-ho and jun-hee to survive more than anything, even if it meant putting your own life on the line. 

you made a move to leave before dae-ho gripped your forearm. “no, you can’t go. i can’t risk losing you.”

your eyes watered, causing your vision to blur, and you felt the burn in your nose. you didn’t want to lose your boyfriend either, but what else could you do? all you had to do was find two other people and you and young-il would be safe for another round. 

“i love you dae-ho, so, so much. but i have to go, and i have to go quick.” you gave him a fleeting kiss before grabbing young-il and running to the nearest participants you could find. 

you heard his screams of protest, but you had no choice but to leave. there was only twenty seconds on the clock, and you’d be damned if you let yourself die on the second round of this godforsaken game. 

you quickly found two people who stood and dragged them into the nearest room, with young-il close behind. 

you made it into the room with only two seconds left on the clock, and the latch clicked, as it did the first round. 

you stood in the constricted room for a drawn-out moment before the latch clicked again, and you all filed out of the room and onto the platform once again. 

the rest of the rounds felt like a blur. with screaming, rapidly moving bodies, and the near-blinding flashing lights, you were unable to locate dae-ho.

you deeply regretted leaving your group, and most importantly, your boyfriend. but you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if any one of your friends died because you tried to be so selfless.

you tried not to panic as your heart beat rapidly and your hands sweated tremendously. you felt a sudden, intense wave of fear as you stood on the platform with young-il for the last round. 

“have you seen dae-ho?” you looked up at the man beside you, a buoyant tone in your voice.

“i’m afraid i haven’t. but i’m sure he’s alright.” he comforted you, placing a heavy hand on your shoulder. 

you inhaled slowly through your nose, knowing that young-il was most likely right. your ex-marine of a boyfriend could survive grouping up and going into rooms, right?

the platform clunked, the lights turned off, and they flashed as before. the number was two, and it couldn’t be more perfect for you and young-il. he grabbed your arm, and the both of you ran to the first space you laid eyes on.

for the last time, the lock was unlatched and you were allowed to leave. you finished the third game, and you’d made it out alive.

you walked out among the crimson blood and lifeless bodies littered on the ground. you shuddered as you navigated your way through the room, and your body was wracked with tremors.

you walked next to young-il, making pace in getting back into the main room. your eyes scanned the room rapidly, looking for the man you left in the middle of the game.

suddenly, you felt warm arms tightening around your waist. your boyfriend found you before you could find him.

“i found you,” he whispered in your ear, voice husky. 

you instantly turned around, your hands finding purchase around his neck. you had been so worried about losing him, and it felt surreal to have him standing right in front of you. 

you felt like you would never see him again, like he’d die just because you decided to leave the group to avoid causing chaos between them. 

“hi. i was so scared i was gonna lose you.” his mouth was right next to yours, yet the proximity didn’t feel like nearly enough,

“never. i’m here. please don’t ever leave me like that again.”

“okay, dae-ho. i’ll stay with you. i promise.” you intended to keep your promise; you intended to never leave him again. 

you had finally found your boyfriend again, amid the death games. you were wrapped in your lover's embrace, and you never wanted to leave again.

[occamstfs]

Conjuration: The Call

Ozzie begrudgingly plays a thinly disguised trading card game and finds some fun teaching his meathead friend a lesson.

Something between a role reversal and devolution! Jock -> Twink and Nerd -> Brute! Hope you enjoy this tale of a wishful role-player growing to dominate a try hard, Best! -Occam

Ozzie absolutely hated trading card games, he missed the boat and loathed being made to feel stupid like they always end up doing. Perhaps some self-reflection could see him giving Conjuration: the Call a fair shake, when a game of CTC was thrust on him instead of the DND session he was coming to play, the man was in not so charitable a mood.

Prepped to play his Druid all night, Ozzie is sulking in the kitchen when his friend Lily, patient zero of getting their group playing CTC again, brings over a proxy deck she made for him. “Heyyy babe~ Sorry about the bait and switch, I thought we were going to play DND too but apparently Mark’s sick and Alex thought this would be a great chance for you to learn how to play!”

His scowl quickly shifts between Lily, her half-hearted olive branch, and their friend group’s surly Adonis, Alex, who winks before returning to set up the table for their game. Ozzie sighs, not wanting to make a scene, he reaches out to inspect the printed deck in her hands. She perks up, “perfect! You’re gonna love it I swear!

The hitherto hater sighs, “ughh. You guys are just going to steamroll me like always! Is the deck too complicated to learn on the fly?” Her eyes glimmer as she slyly makes sure Alex can’t hear, “Not at all! I’ll be right there if you need any help and-“ 

Before she can explain, the man at the table interrupts, “you ladies done yet?” In their running campaign the impatient Alex plays a barbarian which mimics both his stature and nature out of game quite well, in Conjuration however he’s emerged as quite the rival to Lucy. Which Ozzie knows as she begins to explain, now at a whisper, “okay so it’s actually a deck to counter Alex’s.”

She immediately goes to defend her ulterior motives as Ozzie’s scowl returns with a vengeance, “oh c’mooon Ozz, I made this whole deck for you! I found the commander in the bulk bin and thought it sounded like your thing!” Shuffling through the box he checks it out, Loggan the Brain, nice and holographic. He pauses to appreciate how it feels in his hands, heavier than expected and almost warm to the touch. After a moment he looks up to find Lily has already gone to join the rest of the party at the table.

Finishing up his huffing, Ozzie sits opposite Alex who performatively flexes as he shuffles his deck, “Ready to get schooled by the man?” They’re friends at the end of the day so Ozzie doesn’t try to hide his irritation as he responds, “oh I’m sure there’s nothing you love more than beating newbies huh”

Alex takes a few seconds trying to think of some clever reply but after a few playful jibes from Lily and Tim, their fourth player, he decides to save any further taunts for the game. It’s not Ozzie’s first time playing Conjuration, how else would he hold it in such blatant disregard. Resolutely he refuses a tutorial from Alex and Lily. The pair make eye contact as they try to push down the urge to take candy from the new player and instead scheme how they can both use his inexperience to their advantage.

The first couple rounds go by in a flash, the other three begin setting up decks they are clearly incredibly familiar with while Ozzie races to read the little cheat sheet Lily made for the deck before performing a decent opening few rounds himself. Ozzie figures Alex must be running some kind of counterspell deck as Lily’s notes make it very clear that this proxy is a counter-counterspell deck, as it were. 

Lily would never be able to play this deck as it relies on someone counterspelling the Loggan the Brain without checking the specifics, and Alex would never do so to someone with as firm a grasp as her. When Ozzie goes to summon his commander though there's a glimmer in the jock’s eyes as his fingers go to counter the summon before Ozzie even announces, and in doing so he falls into the trap of the deck. 

Alex reaches over to push Loggan back off the board only to be stopped by Lily, almost shaking from excitement as she bursts out into laughter and explains the situation. She points to the ability text Drain: Start of the round gains one “Devolution” spell card. When “Devolution” is used to counter an offensive spell on yourself, put a token on Loggan the Brain. After ten tokens are placed on Loggan the Brain, replace him with Ogg the Brawn.

Hearing his opponent groan from an easily averted own goal he finishes his turn to see Alex scratching his chest and complaining, “I’ve never seen these stupid cards before, are you sure these are legal?” His eyes narrow at Lily who shrugs and tries to taunt him into casting a spell at Ozzie, “Who knows man, maybe it’s not even that good? You should cast a spell at him to see what it does!” With a wry grin she meets Alex’s scowl. For now he stills his hand as they prepare to deal with the quiet Tim as he quickly becomes the biggest threat on the board.

When it comes back to Ozzie’s turn the fun begins at last, launching a spell at Alex who has no choice but to counter, which is of course met with the new player’s own “Devolution” counter. Ozzie and Alex both open their mouths to complain, about the game being convoluted and unfair respectively. Before they can lash out however both men see a token appear on Loggan the Brain without anyone reaching to put it there. 

Only Alex and Ozzie seem to notice the board changing without any human aid, before they can react however they are both filled with an alien warmth. Alex’s hands shoot to his crotch and his face flares with embarrassment. All eyes fall to him as he almost squeaks as his meaty hands struggle to hide the fact that he’s getting obscenely hard at the CTC table, “GrheEEK! AH- hEM” the macho man tries to hide the voice crack from the table, failing to do so they all incredulously stare.

“Psh jeez- can’t a dude sneeze? Fuck!” Knowing they have most of a game still ahead of them no one goes in too hard on Alex, even as his complaints sound decidedly whinier to their ears. Were they to look even a smidge closer at the sscowling man’s face they’d surely see its hard edges begin to soften as his scratchy perma-stubble starts thinning. Alex flips through his bulky hand wondering how he’s going to overcome the pair of opponents, ignorant as his arms are slowly drained of the strength he has honed for over a decade at the gym.

oes Ozzie fail to see how he too begins to shift over the next round. When all hands go to counter a spell cast once more the situation ends once more with Alex being rebuffed by a Devolution card Ozzie drew. Thin fingers go to cover his mouth as he tries to quiet his laughter at Alex’s lips pulling into a pout, looking plumper than usual. Ozzie ignores the flitter at finding that exciting to instead taunt the man looking mousier but is distracted as he scratches his cheek, “Ah c’mon there Aluh- hm.” 

Ozzie pauses as he hears his fingers scratching at, well it sounds like stubble? After a few more strokes he speaks up again, “Uhh guys did I need to shave when I came in?” The party is focussed on his question so they take no heed of his voice sagging deeper with every word. Instead they narrow their eyes at his jawline. It takes him quite a while to grow any kind of facial hair so it’s not like it just sprouted up all of a sudden? Right? Alex laughs and rubs his own face, “Ah Hah! Followin’ the lead of your favorite role model huh! Heehee! Er-”

All laugh as Alex giggles uncharacteristically, cuing him up to go all out and defend his fragile masculinity. Ozzie sits back and watches as him and Lily tag team their fourth player into an early knock-out. All the while though he begins to feel odd? His palms are sweaty, upon closer inspection he realizes his whole form is sweaty. 

Eyes off him he airs out his chest and yelps as he accidentally grabs a tuft of chest hair. He looks down his shirt, slightly obscured by a stubbly little mustache poking out of his upper lip and barely quiets a gasp from shock as he sees a few curls sticking out the center of his bony chest. His inspection then falls onto the hand still grasping at his tee, almost imperceptible blond hairs that have humbly decorated his wrist have lengthened, darkened, and spread into a truly thick jungle on his forearms.

Needing to draw a few more cards to get his target out, Alex can’t help but shoot a couple more spells out at Lily who then redirects them to Ozz. Returning his focus to the board he grunts and prepares to take the hit before checking his hand to find two more copies of Devolution in his hand. He tosses them clumsily on the table and guffaws and shouts in his gruffer voice, “Hah! When’re you gonna learn to not target the man, fucker!” Ozzie reclines once more as Alex ignores his taunts and continues to take his turn.

Half-way to switching out his commander for a card he hasn’t read yet he tugs down his shirt as he feels a breeze on his exposed midriff. There seems to be a volley of new curls stretching above his waistline, briefly making sure no one’s watching he scratches at the pubes slowly inching into a dense treasure trail and almost moans at the distracting pleasure. With each quivering new sensation the blonde curls he has long been proud of darken and recede to something choppy and brown, shrinking back as from every inch of his form curls of the same pervasive brown race to assert his primal masculinity.

With each drag into the growing garden of hair on his waist the urge to vocalize his pleasure grows more difficult to ignore. The stubble on his face continues to thicken, growing into something more than five o’clock shadow that would put Alex’s to shame at its best. Speaking of, as his usual ungroomed stubble continues to fade and shrink into a face shifting as smooth as porcelain he can’t help but stare at Ozzie’s face with jealousy, his cock pulsing once more in his gym shorts and he grits his teeth, forcing himself to focus on the game and not on how Ozzie’s sleeves almost seem to be hugging his arms.

Ozzie similarly doesn’t see as his eyes are closed to be almost obscenely lost in the fulfillment of scratching his itch. Though he feels it. His arms slowly edging larger, straining his sleeves almost to tearing with each meagre movement. He feels stubble slowly growing up past his neckline, giving him a few stray curls that would need a turtleneck to hide as his chest begins to amass new weight and muscle itself.

In his death throes Tim follows Lily’s lead and forces Alex to toss a few more spells that will hopefully be blocked at Ozzie. Still lost in the reverie of his changing form, Ozzie doesn’t even check his cards as his hand quickly shoots up from his crotch and tosses two cards onto the table. Without looking two more tokens appear on Loggan the Brain and both Alex and Ozz clench the table as they are struck with another wave of changes. 

The other two players at the table are suddenly engrossed in checking their hands, as if compelled to not notice as Alex is suddenly swimming in clothes that he chose explicitly to highlight how built he was looking today, his neckline droops low enough that it should expose his burly-hair covered chest. The only thing it shows now however are two spray-tanned pecs that seem to be shrinking.

Alex doesn’t notice as his shoes almost fall off of his feet as they drop a few sizes, no instead he bites his lip and stares hungrily at the man who was supposed to be his quarry. His cock feels wanting his balls blue, more than that though for the first time in his life his ass almost feels empty, in need of something- or someone. He doesn’t put two and two together as he continues to stare at Ozzie growing hairier. 

The once mousy man finally fills his nerdy tee enough that it begins to fray and tear. Similarly do the slacks he threw on for game day find themselves more than filled with meaty thighs and a package that has blossomed into an absolute veiny beast. His eyes widen in wonder as he takes it in for the first time. His thicker, rougher hands reach downward and with the slightest touch his hips buck and his zipper blows out as his cock strains it to the breaking point. Barely contained in his briefs Ozzie has to ignore the wet patch of pre staining through them and put all his energy towards not cumming then and there in front of his friends as the game remains ongoing.

While the two were distracted by their changing tastes and bodies, Tim was officially knocked out of the game leaving everyone worse for wear. Though after another couple rounds it becomes clear that Alex is very much off his game. His white teeth continue to chew at his plumper lips as he’s lost in thought. 

Ozzie similarly chews his lip, champing at the bit as he stares at the shrinking man. Fuuuck, he’s real cute when he works himself up. His inner monologue sinks deeper in tone to match his new voice as his thoughts grow rougher, simpler. Under the table his hand can’t help but go to his crotch as images of some massive beast of a man dominating the twink push to the front of his mind. Drool dripping from teeth bared onto Alex’s back as he arches up into heavy pecs, as if he were made to be under the man, if he were made to be under Ozz- Fuck.

Alex shivers as the table shakes from Ozzie rutting into it, gasping as his own ass fills out. He’d never really spent dedicated time crafting the perfect butt, or no- is that true? His phone suddenly fills with nudes taken of his sculpted, smooth butt and sent to- Ozzie’s bearded face forces itself to the front of his mind. Alex can almost feel his sweaty muscular chest against his own, his fingers curling around hair that inches up from his ass and down from his shoulders. He can almost feel the phantom cock he’s bouncing on before across the table the only player not lost to their lusts clears her throat.

“What is up with you guys?” There’s forced confidence but something is clearly throwing her off her game. Something’s not right. Is it? Oggie- Er, Ozzie? He’s always been a tank, it’s why he’s been so against playing right? And Alex, well shoot that twink is obsessed with Conjuration since it’s the only game or sport that he can beat his- She clenches at her head as she’s seized by a migraine. Perhaps that’s how she falls into the trap that Alex has been setting since turn one.

“Ah HA! Finally biitch! You played right into my hands!” His voice cracks higher, something in the back of her mind swears she’d never let Alex call her a bitch but as she looks at the twink she can’t imagine why. The cocky sneer remains on Alex's face as his hair lengthens into a floppy garden of dirty blonde curls, after looking at the board it fades a little as he struggles to recall how exactly he’s supposed to finish her, “Uhm?”

He scratches at his head and the sleeve hanging on his thin bicep slides back, revealing his pit as the last few hairs remaining of his once proud tuft fall away, leaving behind a fruity scent that will never quite fade instead of the heady musk that could never be quenched. Ozzie didn’t realize he was staring at the twinks pits as they finished smoothing. Looking to his own pit stains on a shirt that seems moments from bursting off his form, he grins toothily and figures he produces well enough stink for the both of them. His canines almost feel larger in his mouth.

 After the song and dance of Lily walking Alex through her own defeat, accompanied by a fair share of giggles from a man who wouldn’t be caught dead speaking even vaguely ‘like a chick’ before the game, Lily heads off with Tim to go grab pizza before the next game. Leaving behind Alex and Ozzie as the game nears its close. Both men struggle to decide on their next moves, or rather if they care enough to even make them, as the other players depart. Ozzie scratches the back of his head like an ape, apathetic to his arm finally bursting free from its sleeve and exposing a hairy pit that Alex eyes hungrily. 

Drooling and wanting to be done with the game as soon as possible the once jock eyes his hand filled with spells and wonders why he has so many? Was there a reason he wasn’t using them? He hesitantly throws one down and is immediately met by a counter. Ozzie grunts as his form bulges larger, brow jutting slightly over blue eyes that don’t quite look so bright any more. He tears off his shirt with one meaty fist before moving to scratch at the carpet of hair covering his torso as if it were a shirt itself.

Ozzie’s own eyes glaze over as he drops his cards on the table, he want game over. His underwear is filled to breaking and he grimaces before going to tear them off just like his shirt. Grunting he punches the table in shock as the elastic band snaps back against him. Veins bulge everywhere across his form as rage fills him enough to rival his hunger for the twink sitting across from him. Struggling to control his breathing as he sits stewing in lust and anger he speaks in a gravely town as his stomach begins to bloat, “Your turn,”

Alex similarly is lacking the focus to continue the game, tossing his hand down his eyes flash as the remaining tokens stack onto Ozzie’s card. Neither man notices as a final line of text appears at the end of the dense paragraph, “If you lack a copy of Ogg the Brawn in your deck, become one.” He doesn’t read the card of course, nor will he chase the urge to read much of anything anymore, but as the ability is activated OzzOgg obeys the instructions to a tee.

Spit drips between gnashing teeth as Ogg stands to his new height. Waist filling out as he pounds onto the table and he grows into a true brute. The elastic band digging into his waist acts like a flank belt as he glowers at Alex and bucks into the table, making a mess of the organized decks as he feels his mind unable to focus on any pursuit other than chasing his hunger.

Alex stands and his pants fall to the floor, unable to remain on his thinned waist, “O-Ogg?” he squeaks out, what was was a tight muscle tee now hangs off a shoulder, perfectly framing a hard nipple and hiding the noticeably smaller bulge where his dick must be. Ogg knocks the table over and tackles the twink with power he never imagined or desired to have. 

Grunting, Ogg can’t control his hips as they continue to rock and thrust as he struggles to position his twitching cock over Alex who endeavors to roll over and present his perky ass. Ogg forces his face down into the nape of Alex’s neck, breathing in his scent, magically alluring and the diametric opposed to the bestial musk that steams off the man whose eyes dull to a dark brown as his stomach bulges into a massive muscle gut.

Underneath, the twink’s mental faculties grow similarly vacant as he feels the hairy stomach scratching against his back, as Ogg’s massive cock finds purchase and fills him with far more powerful pleasure than what Alex has inflicted on many a partner throughout the years. His moans fill the air, rivalling Ogg’s grunts as the pair leave sweat and cum stains on the cold tile. 

The air of the apartment is filled with Ogg’s primal, almost proto-human musk which only makes Alex hungrier for the man he is evermore to be obsessed with. When his face is shoved into Ogg’s jungle of pit hair he wonders how he lived before now as his cock is pressed up against Ogg’s bulky, curl-covered torso.

Eventually their preternatural lusts absolve themselves and in a brief refractory period Alex rushes to clean up the worst of their mess before the other two return with pizza. Ogg of course is no help as he throws on a pair of boxers Alex would’ve sworn were his own and goes to sit on the couch, arm behind his head to air out his steaming pit and continue to rile Alex up. After righting the table and wiping away all the stains he could see the twink indeed goes to nestle up alongside the man on the couch as he throws on some nature documentary.

Alex doesn’t notice as his head finds itself almost immediately in the man’s crotch as his cock starts to poke out the leg of his boxers. Well, when in Rome- Before they can get up to too much fun, they hear the door being jostled. Alex jolts up and swallows the pool of pre-cum filling his mouth before doing a poor job of hiding the rock hard rod in Ogg’s boxers. The brute grunts in irritation and grasps at his needy balls, apathetic to the return of the other platers.

Setting down the pizzas Tim looks over at the clearly worked up pair and rolls his eyes as if this is normal, “Well are you two horndogs up for another game?” Eying both Alex and Tim something besides the Id in Ogg rears up, still seems like there’s a lot left he can drain from the two men. Bulge already inching larger, he stands and goes to pick up Loggan from the floor. Time for round two-

[honeyedfate]

operation: no hate, just date | 심재윤

pairing. jake sim x idol!gf!reader

the objective is clear—make both of your fans believe that you and jake, in fact, don’t hate each other by convincing them that you’re actually in love. which you are. sadly, jake doesn’t get to shout it from the rooftops like he desperately wants to. instead he’s trapped in an elaborate plan that’s moving at a snail’s pace, but one night on weverse with the boys might speed things up.

genre. fluff & very very mildly suggestive

a/n. this is the second part to loverboy! you can read it by itself if u want but it might be more fun if u don’t lol enjoy! x

it’s been a week since jake and you were pulled aside and shoved into a meeting room where an unforeseen entourage informed him that he sucks at being your boyfriend but makes for a great arch nemesis. he had left that intervention feeling annoyed and his privacy violated, but at least they had a plan. whether that plan is a good one is still up for debate.

grey sweater guy from pr keeps responding to yuki’s plentiful emails with stupid roundabouts of how patience is a virtue and playing the long game always benefits the player. the problem is jake has no patience, and the only person who seems to get it is you.

which is likely why even after the fourth facetime call of the day, his darling-angel of a girlfriend has yet to tell him to piss off. he keeps peeking at his phone, which he has propped up against his pillow, only to begrudgingly return to his scattered lego set, positive he’ll crash out if he doesn’t hear your voice soon.

when the call finally connects and you appear on the screen, it’s like watching the sun rise. jake can feel the tension leaving his body and a lopsided smile curving over his lips. he’s hopeless, really.

you grin through the phone, hands in your hair as you tie it back, and say by way of greeting, “yunjin showed me a tiktok earlier.”

abandoning whatever he was building, jake scoots closer to his phone. “what was it about?”

“us, of course,” you say cheerily, and jake swears his heart skips a beat. not because he’s anxious of what you’re about to say but because it happens every time you refer to him and you as an item. an entity. it’s embarrassing but he kind of likes it. he likes being an idiot for you.

“someone put together a bunch of clips of everything we’ve been doing this week and it blew up on twitter.” you gently rub your oil cleanser over your face.

jake perks up at your words. he didn’t think anyone would’ve noticed any of the stuff he was told to do as part of the stupid plan. an unsettling concoction of excitement and terror swirls in his stomach. “what did they say?” he asks, fiddling with a lego piece.

you take a moment to wipe off your eye makeup, scrunching your nose when jake calls you a panda. “apparently people have been noticing how close we stood on the encore stage and that we kept looking at each other. it’s funny—i didn’t realise in that moment, but when i watched it back it looked like you’re either creeping up on me or you’re extremely terrified.”

jake tilts his head. “terrified of what? you?” he furrows his brows. “i just looked at you a couple of times like they told us to.”

“i know you did.” you turn off the faucet and grab a towel to dry off your face, trying to keep the amusement in your voice at bay. “but, babe, you’re either staring me down—unblinking—or you’re casting glances at me like you’re scared i’ll turn around and jump you.” you can’t help but giggle. “someone commented, ‘i can’t tell if jake is contemplating if he should push y/n off the stage or if he should throw himself off it.’”

jake gawks at you with his mouth agape. “that’s what they’re saying?”

you nod. he falls backward with a groan and covers his faces with his arms. “i can’t believe it. that’s what it looked like to them? really?”

“i know.” you say, more amused than empathetic.

“that’s crazy,” he says, pushing himself upright again, hair sticking out even messier than it had before. “i’m actively trying to act like a lovesick fool—which i am! don’t even—and people still think i’m trying to break your neck? that’s insane.”

you hum supportively. “at least some people believe you were offering to break your own neck for me. that’s romantic, right? we might be on the right track here.” you keep your tone playful, but jake looks at you with his starry eyes and pouty lips, resembling nothing short of a kicked puppy.

“i’m sorry i keep messing this up,” he says and the thinness in his voice makes your heart break.

“jake, you’re not messing anything up.” he looks at his hands, avoiding your gaze. “you can’t control these things, people will interpret and perceive it however they like. it’s always been this way, and it’s always been out of our control. doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

“i don’t know, y/n,” he says quietly, and the sight of him hanging his head has you nearly sneaking out of the dorms and going over to his. you’ve never seen him look this miserably at a lego set before. “if i wasn’t so awkward and knew what to do, we wouldn’t even be in this mess.”

“no one’s perfect and all-knowing.” you pick up your phone with a frown. “and why do you keep calling it a mess? is that what you think this is?” you enter your room and get into your bed. jake looks up at the sounds of your blanket and wishes desperately he was there with you.

instead, he loosens a breath and sweeps the lego pieces onto the manual, placing it on the floor and going under the blanket as well. “what else should i call it?” he says. “it’s not a blessing.”

you ponder his words. “a mess would be our sex tape getting leaked or people making up rumours that we’re drug dealers or cannibals.”

jake cocks his head. “like hannibal?”

“i meant more like in ‘bones and all’ but sure.”

“oh.” he scratches his face. “well, we’re neither of those things. we also don’t have a sex tape.” the corner of his mouth quirks up.

“no, we don’t.” you pout, forcing a mock sigh. “but we could always make one? ‘operation: no hate, no date,’ am i right?” you waggle your eyebrows at him, prompting a wry smile to flicker across his face.

“they’ll watch it and come to the conclusion that i hate you even more.”

you huff a laugh. “we will probably also get kicked out of hybe and have to start slinging fishcakes on the street. which sounds like fun, to be honest. oh! we could make our own jingle and sing it for our customers. maybe we won’t even have to make the fishcakes if we’re successful enough.”

this earns you a laugh. “that’s just busking, baby. what you want to do is busk.”

you gasp in fake surprise before settling for a rueful sigh. “i am but an artist.”

jake presses his lips together as if to say ‘good riddance, what tragic calling’ with a saddened face before the two of you dissolve into giggles.

“okay, i get it.” he turns to lie on his side, face squished against his pillow. “going from idol to man with leaked sex tape who sings on the street and runs an unsuccessful fishcake stand would be a mess. but this is not?”

“correct.”

“i’m so relieved then.” he grins toothily at you and, of course, you reciprocate it. an involuntarily yawn slips through your lips and jake coos at you.

“is my girl tired after working hard all day?”

“she’s exhausted,” you affirm with bleary eyes. “you seem chipper for someone who’s usually drooling on his pillow by midnight.”

jake shrugs. “i’m not sleepy yet.”

you hold back another yawn. “do you want me to stay awake until you are?”

he smiles at you fondly, relishing in the softness of your drowsy voice. “it’s all right. you should go to sleep, baby.” he glances at the clock on his phone. “i think i’ll go live for a bit. haven’t done one in a while.”

“aren’t we feeling chatty tonight,” you tease, eyes fully closed now. jake swears he actually dies at how cute you look and smashes that screenshot button repeatedly. “i’ll leave you to it then. greet engenes for me.”

he grimaces. “if i do that, you’ll get your jingle and fishcake dreams fulfilled by tomorrow morning because we’ll both be unemployed.”

“sounds lovely.” you rub your eyes.

“yeah,” jake merely whispers, attention span momentarily off the rails as his doting gaze traces your face. he takes another screenshot for good measure. “good night, pretty girl,” he says tenderly, raspy voice and all. “see you tomorrow for the dance challenge and the fishcakes.”

a giggle bubbles out of you, and you crack your eyes open to offer your best, dozy smile. “and the busking. don’t forget the busking.”

“i would never. i’ll even steal one of jay’s guitars.”

you nod, pleased. “we’ll be on the run like bonnie and clyde. except for all the atrocities, of course.”

jake helplessly swoons. “i love you.”

“i love you too. good night, baby.”

the intensity at which his pulse quickens and his stomach tumbles needs to be studied because it should not be humanly possible to be so goddamn whipped. he’s not ashamed to admit that he could write lines upon lines of poetry right now just to ode your every quality and marvel at the curve of your mouth.

again, hopeless. but he’s more than okay with it.

so what if he flips onto his stomach right after the call ends, smiling blissfully into his pillow and kicking his feet? he might not be a lover boy, but he is in love.

with that same crooked smile that is probably etched onto his face forever, he opens the weverse app on his phone and opts for a voice live. as the first few people pool in, he gets lost in mindless chatter. it’s always nice to do lives at night. mainly because they make him drowsy.

at some point, he gets up for the bottle on his desk, hoping that chugging some water will wake him up. but when he returns to his bed and glances at his phone, comments keep flooding in at a speed that make them very hard to read.

“what’s this?” he chuckles nervously. “what happened? i just went to get some water.”

enhaswife: jungwon is live!! go live with him plss

sim hitomi: jungwonnie is live~~

xo, liz: CAN U GO LIVE WITH JUNGWON ‼️

“jungwonnie is live?” jake raises a brow. “that’s actually pretty early for him. it’s not even one yet.” he settles back into his bed. “i was here first though, so you guys have to tell him to come. tell him to come send a request.”

he watches the number of viewers decline rapidly, all of them seemingly leaving to do his bidding. he wields too much power and it might actually go to his head, he thinks to himself in amusement. “i told him,” he reads out loud. “i told him, he’s coming, i told him. you guys are so cute.”

not long after, the request pops up and jake is quick to accept it. his screen splits in two before jungwon’s eager face appears before him.

“yooiii,” jake greets him with a wide smile.

“yoooiiii,” jungwon practically shouts into his phone with excitement that is more appropriate for daylight hours. “what’s this? why aren’t you showing your face, hyung? are you naked?”

“what?” jake guffaws, adjusting his phone. “no, my hair’s just all over the place. engenes don’t need to see me like this.”

“oh, okay.” jungwon nods understandably as his eyes flit over the computer screen before him. the song that’s currently playing in the background changes to a more calm melody, and jake sinks further into his blanket, nearly letting out a moan at how snug he feels. “he’s bald, by the way.”

jake jolts so hard he nearly tumbles out of his bed.

“jungwon!” he watches as the comments explode into chaos. “oh my god, what have you done.”

the younger boy ignores him. “ni-ki shaved his head after practice, you know. he got the clippers from hair and makeup and went right at it. they weren’t too happy about it, but it went well. thankfully, i am so happy to announce that our hyung does not have an egghead.”

jake burst out laughing, glimpsing how jungwon’s smile expands with delight when he hears it. “i nearly lost an ear, but yes. all’s good.”

“he gave his hair to jay,” jungwon continues for no apparent reason except to bring jay into this. “he put it in a nice ziplock bag and gave it to him. jay almost cried. he was really touched.”

jake is clutching his sides, trying to keep his laughter down. before he can speak, a highlighted message pops up in the comments.

JAY: Ya! Why are you ruining my image

JAY: When jake gave me his bag of hair I wept

JAY: I wept.

JAY: Get your facts straight punk

“hyung!” jungwon says delightfully. “you’re here too. what’s going on, why are we all awake? is this a party?”

“it’s just us three here,” jake remarks, still chuckling. “what party only has three guests?”

jungwon shrugs. “i’ve never been to one.”

JAY: Me neither

jake cups his neck, deciding to join them despite the fact that there are plenty of pictures of them at several afterparties. “me neither.”

JAY: Wow

“wooow,” jungwon echoes, lips tugging into a smirk. jake frowns. did he miss something? before he can address it, a comment stands out to him.

“yes, we are a sad bunch,” he says jokingly in response to it. “you’re breaking my heart, engenes. no need to rub it in.”

jungwon snickers. “these comments are so fun tonight. i usually only get song recommendations. seriously, what’s happening? where are all my engenes who ask me to play chamber 5 for the eighth time?”

JAY: It’s because I’m here

JAY: I bring the smart ones

JAY: Also can you play chamber 5

“it’s my live.” jake scoffs when he reads jay’s comments. “they were here before you two came, and we always have very stimulating discussions.”

that’s not true. earlier’s heated topic of conversation was whether a tiger or a tiger shark would win in a fight. but jungwon and jay don’t need to know that.

“oh, hey, we’re tripple j,” jake randomly observes while suppressing a yawn.

“we are!” jungwon says enthusiastically. “the moment jay came in, all the comments were saying tripple j. imagine if all of our names started with a j. septuple j!”

JAY: Junghoon

JAY: Jeeseung, junoo, ji-ki

JAY: Annyeonghasaeyo, jenhypen-imnida

jake snorts. he glances at the time and lets another yawn overtake him. “guys, i think i’ll go to sleep. i can barely hold my eyes open.”

“i was waiting for you to say that,” jungwon quips.

“oh?” jake pushes himself up to fluff his pillow. “why? do i sound tired?”

JAY: Ow hay weor wibble j

jake furrows his brows, nearly suffering a stroke trying to read that. “hah. you’re funny.”

JAY: yoar wonny

“ahjussi, please go to bed,” jake says fondly and pulls his blanket up to his ears, letting it almost swallow him. “you’re talking gibberish again.”

JAY: :(((

jungwon ignores them, typing away on his keyboard. “i think i’ll continue my live for a bit if engenes want to join me.”

“yes, keep him company, guys.” jake yawns once more and quickly skims the comments one last time. his mind has become delirious, not really making sense of any of the words on his screen. he’s no longer thinking straight. he’s not thinking, period. which might be why his focus zeroes in on your name as it passes by.

he scrolls back up, looking for it, and finds himself reading it out loud without a second thought.

“do you want me to fight y/n for you?”

he lets his arm fall over his eyes with a funny expression on his face that no one can see and that he’s not even aware of. a mental image of you occupies half of his mind while the other half has simply shut off.

chuckling, he replies, “nah, i can take her.”

it goes quiet in the room as jake’s breathing evens out and jungwon’s typing slows down.

“hyung,” he says with emphasis, a warning tone laced in his voice. jake blinks an eye open, way too tired to grasp the gravity of what he has done. jungwon, on the other hand, is close to breaking out in hives as the comments go ballistic.

jay is not of much help either. he has left the live to message the group chat, asking if they’re now in trouble and if they’re going to kidnap you and jake again. from what jungwon can gauge based on the rapid fire notifications he’s getting, jay’s coming in clutch with quotes and screenshots of the comments, and heeseung’s immediate reaction is to cackle away.

enhaswife2: wiat whaT DID HE JUST SAY

myseven: oh REALLY >:( y/n count ur days

sunoo’s gf: you sure about that? I can fight

xiiuu7: leave y/n to me, i can handle her for you

jake reads the comments through fluttering eyes, somehow finding it all very entertaining. “oh, i take her just fine, thanks.” he rolls onto his stomach, eyes closed, smiling like an idiot, and mutters into his pillow, “i’ve handled her in more ways you can—”

his door slams open.

not a second later, jungwon stands before him in his pyjamas and snatches his phone out of his hands, breathing heavily. it lands next to jake on his pillow with a thud. screen now black.

“hyung, have you gone mad?!” jungwon stares down at him in bewilderment, his own phone in his hand lightening up every microsecond. “are you actually insane? why would you say that into the microphone?”

jake blinks up at him. “what?”

another person joins them. “what’s going on?” sunoo’s socked feet pad over the floor as he pulls down his headphones, regarding the two of them carefully. “i heard doors slamming.”

wordlessly, jungwon passes him his unlocked phone. it’s opened to a twitter account transcribing and translating in real time what had just been said on their live, including jake’s slurred but still perfectly understandable words. in other words, stan twitter is going insane.

sunoo gasps, eyes widening with each tweet as he scrolls and scrolls and scrolls. he’s reading all kinds of things—engenes who are losing it and speaking of you, your group, and your fans as if there’ll be a sword fight at dawn.

your fans who are thoroughly disoriented and confused but ready to go for blood anyway because ‘what does he MEAN he can take her?? take her WHERE?????’

and people who don’t even listen to either group but are dying over the comedic timing of jake uttering those words, jungwon hurling himself out of his chair, his footsteps thumping in the hallway, the doors banging, and the live ending all under two minutes.

some people also seem to believe that jake is bald for some reason? sunoo shakes his head in disbelief. it’s like the internet has been bored for too long, and this has revived them.

an eternity must’ve passed now, and jungwon is still lecturing a very sleepy jake whose words and actions have finally caught up to him when sunoo suddenly yelps. he practically tosses the phone in the air, and both boys turn to their attention to him. with a gulp, sunoo flips the screen around and holds it at an arm’s length.

“yuki is calling.”

jungwon exchanges a look with jake before he grabs his phone. “hello?” he says, clearing his throat. sunoo leans in to try and listen. jake, on the other hand, stays frozen on his bed, not even daring to breathe.

a heavy sigh sounds on the other line. “jungwon?”

“…yes?”

“there’s a change of plans.”

[greengoblinswifey]

Power Play—Lee Myung-Gi/Player 333 x Fem!Reader

summary— Despite your initial disdain, the connection between you and player 333 deepen with you taking control.

warnings— slight enemies to lovers, switch!myung-gi, fingering, oral(f!receving), praise kink, choking, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— He is so hot, fuck meeeee!

Every time you caught Myung-gi’s gaze, your stomach twisted in annoyance and something else you didn’t want to name. He had been staring at you again today, right after being pushed around by Thanos and his crew. You clenched your fists, hating the way he let them treat him like shit, and even more so, hating how his eyes always seemed to find you.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” you hissed, your voice sharp enough to cut through the noise of the room.

“Nothing,” he said. “Can’t look at a pretty girl?” He straightened slightly, brushing dirt from his sleeve with a calmness that only irritated you further.

“You know,” you said coldly, “you’re the reason my brother’s in debt. He’d be here if I wasn’t such a kind sister willing to risk her life to win this money for him. He’s expecting a baby.”

At the mention of a baby, Myung-gi’s gaze flickered briefly to Jun-hee, who sat nearby with a hand on her stomach. A muscle in your jaw tightened, and you hated how his eyes lingered on her just a moment too long.

“Baby, huh?” he said, his voice low.

You didn’t respond, turning on your heel before the conversation could dig under your skin any further. Your chest tightened with something ugly and unfamiliar, jealousy, maybe? You refused to name it.

That night, the room was restless. People shifted in their bunks, some snoring, others mumbling in their sleep. But you couldn’t sleep. Neither could Myung-gi.

You didn’t notice him approach until he crouched beside you, his voice a quiet murmur. “You’re really fucking pretty, you know that?”

Your breath caught. You turned your head, and there he was, his face inches from yours, his dark eyes gleaming. You should have pushed him away, told him to leave you alone. But instead, you whispered, “Do something about it.”

He didn’t hesitate. His lips crashed against yours, and you couldn’t help the way you melted into him. His hands cupped your face as his lips moved with a precision that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

You lay flat on the bed and his fingers found the edge of your pants, tugging them down with a careful urgency. You shivered as his hand slipped between your thighs, his fingers finding your pussy with an ease that made you throb.

“God,” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky. “So wet for me.”

You let out a shaky gasp, your hands clutching his shoulders as his fingers worked vigorously inside your wetness, each movement teasing. “You’re doing so good,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “Just cum for me.”

His words tipped you over the edge, and you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the moan that spilled from your lips. Your body trembled as you came undone, and he didn’t stop his gentle praise, his thrusts softening but never leaving you.

As your high faded, he pulled back to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours. “There,” he said softly. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to find some semblance of control, but the small smirk tugging at his lips made it impossible. You shoved him lightly, muttering under your breath, “Shut up.”

But the truth was, you didn’t want him to stop.

“Can I taste you?” he asked, his voice low, the hunger in his tone readable.

You rolled your eyes, trying to act unfazed, though your heart pounded in your chest. “Whatever,” you said casually, then pointed a finger at him. “But don’t expect me to suck your dick or anything.”

“Noted,” he said, leaning in to kiss you again. His lips moved slowly this time, taking their time as he hovered over you. You shivered as his lips left your mouth and began a slow descent. He pressed kisses to your neck, your collarbone, and lower still, his hands sliding up your thighs to part them as he made his way down.

When he reached the place where his fingers had been earlier, he paused, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured. Then, without waiting for a response, he dipped his head.

The first touch of his mouth was soft, exploratory, but it didn’t stay that way. His tongue was relentless, like he was starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy him. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, holding your legs open as his tongue moved with precision and hunger.

“God,” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him moan against you. The vibration sent a shockwave through your body, and you bit down on your lip to keep from crying out. “You’re s-so good at this,” you said, your voice trembling.

He hummed in response, his tongue never faltering. It was like he was determined to draw every last bit of pleasure from you, and the way he ate you out had your mind spinning.

You tried to stay quiet, you really did, but it became impossible as the pleasure inside you built to a breaking point. “Myung-gi,” you whimpered, your hips bucking against his mouth.

“Fucking cum for me,” he murmured between lapping, “come on, pretty girl. I want to feel you squirt on my mouth.”

The words sent you over the edge, and with a cry you couldn’t quite muffle, you squirted. Your body trembled violently as waves of pleasure rolled through you, and you felt the undeniable splash as you soaked his mouth.

He didn’t stop, didn’t pull away, his tongue continuing to coax every last drop from your body until you were completely spent. When he finally lifted his head, his lips and chin glistened, but the satisfied smirk on his face said it all.

“Guess you enjoyed that,” he said, his voice teasing but filled with pride.

“Shut up,” you muttered, though the small smile tugging at your lips told it all.

He laughed softly, crawling back up to kiss you, and the taste of yourself on his lips sent a shiver through you. “Whatever you say,” he said, brushing a strand of your curls from your face.

As you shifted slightly, you felt his hardness pressing against your thigh, and a need you couldn’t ignore surged through your pussy. “Hey,” you said softly but firmly, nudging him, “On your back.”

His brows raised slightly, but he didn’t hesitate. Myung-gi obeyed, lying back against the thin bedding, his breathing uneven. His eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and burning with lust.

You reached down, pulling his hard cock free, and his sharp intake of breath sent a thrill through you. Slowly, you positioned your leaking pussy over him. As you sank down, you hissed softly, feeling the stretch as you adjusted to his size. His hands instinctively gripped your hips, his jaw clenching as he tried to stay still for you.

“You good?” he asked, his voice strained, his breathing labored.

“Yeah,” you murmured, taking a moment to adjust before you began to move.

You started slowly, lifting yourself before settling back down, testing the waters. But as you found a rhythm, your confidence grew, and you leaned into it, bouncing on him like you owned him, because, in that moment, you did.

His head tipped back, and a moan escaped his lips. “Oh, God,” he muttered, his voice breaking as he squirmed beneath you. “You’re, God, you’re amazing.”

You smirked, gripping his shoulders for balance as you bounced faster. The sounds of his stuttering breaths and soft moans filled the quiet space, and you could see the way his jaw had gone slack, his mouth wide open in awe and pleasure.

“I’m gonna—” he tried to say, but his words dissolved into a stammering mess. “I’m gonna—”

You leaned down, wrapping one hand around his throat firmly. His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours in shock and a hint of thrill.

“Cum with me,” you whispered, your voice commanding as you began to grind on his cock.

His response was a strangled moan as his body arched beneath you. You pressed your other hand over his mouth, silencing his cries as his entire body began to tremble.

“Now,” you murmured. “Be a good boy and cum inside me.”

The words made him come undone, and you felt him cum as a wave of pleasure hit you simultaneously. Your body shook on top of him as you both came together, your intense orgasms leaving you breathless.

You slowly removed your hand from his mouth, and he gasped for air, his chest heaving. His eyes were wide, his face flushed, but a dazed smile tugged at his lips.

“Wow,” he said after a moment, his voice hoarse. “I love when a woman takes control.”

You smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “Good,” you replied, sliding off of him carefully and lying beside him.

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as the two of you basked in the aftermath, the weird tension finally giving way to a strange sense of peace?

[ghostgirl-22]

okok this is an xfem!reader ask but could you write something like the video on the link with art?

https://x.com/sugarfemdom/status/1858661845122642119?s=46&t=3CW6FsXs0MAE69-4ntnOGQ

this is SO stanford!art to me it’s not even funny, like??? him and his pretty little girlfriend trying this for the first time and it’s completely new to art but he’s so lost in it he can’t even be embarrassed about how good it feels

Answering this sooner rather than later since Twitter has been trying to shut down the porn links. Y’all are so horny… and I love you for it <33 🥹

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Explicit (porn link)

—-

Art is this beautiful boy, tall, dorky, handsome and smart. Really incredible tennis player. You’d gone to your first tennis match to see Tashi Duncan, just like the rest of the school and while you were walking around the courts he was in the middle of his match when he smiled at you. You smiled back, thinking nothing of it, surely he just did that when he had an audience. But then next thing you know he’s asking for your number and the rest is history.

All it takes is for you to witness one interaction between him and his best friend Patrick, for you to realize your new boyfriend isn’t entirely straight.

They’re play fighting with each other. Patrick chasing Art around the courts while they’re giggling. He’s all too happy to be caught and wrestled to the ground, Patrick between his legs. The other boys are just laughing at them, you think they probably know too.

You fantasize about the thought of them fucking when you’re in his dorm room that night. You’re riding his cock and he’s losing himself, mesmerized by your full bouncing tits (he wishes he could slide his dick between them).

“Fuck yes… oh baby… oh god, you’re so fucking wet baby…gonna lose it… gonna give you whatever you want….” He’s moaning, crying, squirming as you bounce your hips, up and down, the sound of skin slapping together obscenely. His cock feels so good you don’t even care that Patrick could be back from his night out with Tashi at any minute. In fact you hope he walks in on you and gets so hard he has to fuck your boyfriend right in front of you.

You’re so caught up in the fantasy you tease a finger up inside of his ass without much warning.

“Oh shit,” you whisper as his moaning takes on an entirely new pitch. You tease a second finger inside him. “You like that baby?”

“Nngh yes… yes,” he groans, moving his hips. “Oh fuck. Fuck me baby. Please, please fuck me.” His hips bucking up uncontrollably and almost immediately he’s coming inside without even the pretense of needing to pull out. Thrusting himself helplessly while grinding into your fingers. Its so hot you start losing it too. He’s so fucking lucky you’re on the pill the way he’s filling you up.

He’s so lost in all of it that he barely bats an eyelash when you suggest that he let you fuck him for real.

“Of course baby, whatever you want,” he whispers, completely sated, gently kissing your face, as you curl up next to him in his single. He starts drifting off to sleep right away.

His mistake. You come over the next night with some of your lingerie. “Can you wear this out tonight baby?” You ask, pouting your lips. He loves when you play innocent.

“Fuck baby,” Art says shyly. “You’re serious?”

“Mmhm, if you wear it all night and be a good boy and don’t come I’ll give you a surprise,” you coax. It’s all he needs to actually do it.

Patrick gets home as you and Art are dressed and on your way out to the movies. You can’t help yourself. “Is the bra too tight baby?” You ask in front of Patrick.

“Uh…” Art stammers immediately turning red as Patrick starts grinning.

“I can help loosen the bra but there’s nothing I can do for the panties if you’re still hard,” you say softly.

“Where you guys going?” Patrick asks, patting Art on the shoulder, broad grin still on his face.

“Movies,” you smile. “He’s gonna be a good boy for me.”

“I bet,” Patrick says staring at Art but you don’t miss the heedy look that momentarily passes between them. You hate being right all the time. Even if they haven’t fucked, they want to.

*

Except for a few moments where Art has to take his time to hide his erection before getting up, he’s such a perfect gentleman all evening.

“I promised you’d get surprise right?” You say smiling when he’s standing so needy in front of you, clothes on the floor, dressed only in your lingerie, his dick straining the fabric.

“Y-yes,” he stammers. You make him sit on his bed. Again you have no idea when Patrick will be home but you really don’t care. You show him the strap on, you pull out of your backpack and there’s only one way to describe his reaction. He’s antsy, eager even, but he’s pretending like he doesn’t want it as much as he does.

“Have you ever done this before?” You ask gently.

He ponders his response for just a moment and then nods, shy. “My last girlfriend,” he whispers.

“Mm,” you hum. You ease on the strap and lube it up like you’re doing it with a real dick… the whole time he’s anxious. Legs crossed, his cock so full it’s leaking, dripping through the panties. You settle on the bed, pulling his soft hips forwards. He’s so pale in comparison to you, his skin so surprisingly smooth. He’s barely got any hair anywhere, he says he shaves for aerodynamics or whatever… You know nothing about tennis but you’re pretty sure barely having any pubic hair isn’t gonna make him a better player. It does make his dick look even bigger though.

You pull him onto your lap and slide the panties to the side so you can push the strap inside, he’s whining holding his breath as you guide it in. “Is it too big baby?” You ask gently.

“Mm, it’s good,” he breathes, pitched high and tight. He fucking loves this.

You start guiding it in and out of him. He’s taking it in stride, slowly rolling his hips on your dick. “That’s right,” you say gently. “Fuck yourself on my big dick baby.”

“Mm love you,” he groans. He’s said stuff like that before when he’s in the heat of the moment. You don’t take it seriously. He’s tugging the bra down, teasing his nipples, pinching them. You’re so wet you’re practically grinding your pussy against the harness as he’s riding it. You grab at his dick, sliding it out of the grip of the panties. So pink and achingly full. He’s moaning like a girl as you jerk him off, arching his back into the mattress, grasping at your legs, losing himself while he’s moving his hips, riding the strap.

You’re going a little crazy. You imagined he’d like it but you had no idea he’d like it this much.

“Good boy, fuck. You’re so good,” you whisper, over and over. Watching him fall apart with the strap shoved up inside him. Moaning like a slut.

“Oh fuck, baby, I-I can’t stop—“ he gasps as spurts of creamy white shoot up into the air, he’s coming all over himself, heated sticky liquid coating your hands. “Mm,” he whines. “Mm fuck. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s good baby, it’s okay, holy shit. You liked that a lot huh?” You say gently crawling on top of him.

“Mmhm, thank you,” he says softly.

He’s so adorable you kiss him slow and soft.

“Have you ever had a boyfriend baby?” You whisper.

“Mm,” he whines. “N-not really.”

“What about Patrick? He’s hot right? You ever let him fuck you?”

Art squirms a little beneath you and you grin. “It’s okay, you can tell me later. First I want you to use your mouth for something else.”

“Mm yeah,” he says, licking his lips eagerly as you ease the strap off and move to straddle his face.

[fumiscripts]

✦ DEDICATED TO YOU

✦ one shot ,, rin itoshi x gn!reader

content:: you're a famous idol. and you're dating a professional player. of course you'll be making headlines when your relationship was made public.

for @yui2aku ,, fluff ,, 822 words

additional:: swearing, they're both whipped for eachother, might be ooc

Itoshi Rin is a rising star in the football industry. And you were in the peak of your idol career.

Obviously, the media would freak if they find out that the two of you were dating.

So you kept the relationship a secret, doing your best to not give out any hints. From making sure not to mention each other too much in interviews, to carefully crafting social media posts to ensure that fans won't be able to tell that you were going to a place together. Both of you and your management carefully concealed it from the public view.

But, of course, not everything goes to plan.

PROFESSIONAL ATHLETE ITOSHI RIN AND SOLO IDOL [L/N] [NAME] SEEN HOLDING HANDS AT HANEDA AIRPORT.

This was the headline of one of the many, many articles that flooded all across the internet. Your heart stopped, then slammed back at full force. You stood up straighter, brows furrowing together. The first time you opened your phone for the day, and you find posts about this everywhere.

Oh fuck. You fucked up, didn't you?

“Shit. What the hell,” you curse under your breath, reading more into the article.

Meanwhile, Rin looks up from your lap, opening an eye, disturbed from resting on your thighs when you suddenly stopped running your hands through his black locks. Your eyes flicked towards his,and he gave you a look, as if to ask what suddenly bothered you to halt playing with his hair.

You blink at him, before sheepishly turning your phone around, showing him what's been blowing up all over the media. “So… maybe we weren't discreet enough with the clothes I wore to greet you.”

His face instantly dropped, turning into something more serious as his teal eyes skimmed through the overview of the post. Rin sighed, grumbling something under his breath before burying his face onto your stomach. “...I told you to just stay at home and wait for me,” he murmured after a while, draping his arms around your waist.

“C’mon… you know I had to greet you right away. It was after a big overseas game I couldn't come to— it was the same time I had a concert,” you scoffed, reasoning with him. “The least I could do was pick you up at the airport.”

Rin didn't look up. He was touched by your little gesture to try and make up for not attending a vital match, so he didn't use that argument further. “Tch. Should've at least covered up more of your features,” he lightheartedly remarked. Though he really liked the uniqueness you had with the way you dressed up, so he can't hate on that. “Well, what do we do now?” he asked, moving the topic along from the problem to finding a solution.

You stared down your phone, anxiousness coming back to loom over you. “I should contact my manager,” you remark, watching as he finally lets go of you and sits up properly. “We could schedule a meeting with our PR teams?”

He nodded. “Right. So go do that,” he replied, though he already had a vague idea what they might propose for you two to do. It was a guess.

That guess was right.

The day after those rumors about the two of you having a secret blew up, you hard launched your relationship to the public.

They decided that coming out clean about this would be the most logical way to proceed— way better than the media speculating that the two of you were just a fling and start tarnishing both of you’s reputation. A proper relationship sounded way better than a one-night stand to the public.

After confirming on each official account, the masses began to be a little more welcoming to it. Hell, the ship tag between you and Rin seemed to blow up with positive posts, even. So that fix was successful.

Once the news calmed down through weeks, everything was back to normal. Well, as normal as it could be with being an idol with a soccer player for a boyfriend. Majority of fans seemed to love the two of you, often making fan media dedicated to your relationship. And in all honesty, it was cute. Plus, you had more material to tease Rin with.

Now, you couldn't help it. You personally asked for your next album to be something special, convincing management it's for the sake of the publication of your relationship. Though, it was dedication for someone special.

An album dedicated to him.

Rin knew those songs were dedicated to him. If those vibrant eyes of yours while you performed on stage— looking straight at him who sat by the vip seats— said anything, it was all about how much you loved him.

Oh, and with the way he looked at you with pure adoration, it was obvious he loved you, too.

Rin was utterly, hopelessly dedicated to you.

(a/n):: Grrrhsjua not my proudest work since I barely write nonchalant asf characters

taglist:: @shrii-kk, @tired-xyra-urstruly, @fishii28, @yui2aku

@lakeside-paradise

© fumiscripts 2024. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.

[ria-starstruck]

and also "putting everyone in a simulation will make it all ok 👍" and also "let's park next to this random system's sun" and also "we can't live on our own planet because of our own folly" and so on

[exocaliii]

❦︎ And You Look Half Dead Half The Time

(pt. 1) (pt. 2)

| Kang No-eul / Guard 011 x fem!reader |

side! | Se-mi / Played 380 x fem!reader |

Summary: For six years, you've watched your best friend and only companion mourn a child she barely got to know. Now, you're given a chance that might finally rid her of this lifelong guilt.

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: death, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, making-out, fingering + cunnilingus (r! receiving), bathroom sex, one use of Y/N even though I tried my best to avoid it lol, extreme jealousy/possessiveness, no-eul is not playing about her girl in this one LOL

A/N: finally reached the romance stuff in this one but there's still some build-up of course, hope you all enjoy and as always, i appreciate any type of feedback or comments, they make the writing worth it!! :D this is so self indulgent omg

—

When the platform begins to spin, you feel a firm grip on your hand, looking up to find Se-mi already staring at you with a calm expression on her face.

“Stick with me.” 

You nod, and before you’re able to check on Min-su, you’re nearly thrown off your feet by the sudden stop of the surface you’re on. 

“10 players.” 

The boom of the announcer clears your senses, and as Thanos and Nam-gyu laugh and spin, you see another group of five waving their hands for more people. You shout at the loudest volume you’ve used since arriving here for them to come over, and with a tight grip on Se-mi’s hand, you drag her to the open room right across the arena. Thanos, Nam-gyu, and Min-su (who you can now see was hiding behind Se-mi) follow right along, and, thank goodness, the other team of 5 do the same. 

“Are you okay?” You don’t respond to Se-mi's question because the answer should be obvious with the way you’re trembling, but she only nods in understanding. “Just stay calm, it’ll be fine.” You want to believe her, you truly do, but you see Min-su’s fear, and in that moment, you accept that this may be the game that kills you. 

The lock clicks open.

Your group of ten steps out, stepping over the blood of those who lost the last round.

You want to retch, but you stay focused and get back on the platform. 

With your hand in Se-mi’s, you block out the happy singing of Thanos and Nam-gyu, opting instead to pat Min-su’s back when you see him basically shaking like a leaf. He jumps, but turns to you with a grateful look in his eye. You pray that he lives, because someone like him should not die in a cold place like this.

“4 players.”

Your heart drops. Thanos glances back and forth between the three of you as Nam-gyu stands at his side. Your heart feels heavy in your chest, and your legs are stiff, ready to run. His eyes stop on Min-su, and you know what’s about to happen.

“You-”

“I’ll go.” 

Se-mi barely has a chance to react before you rip your hand from hers and run to find another group. Somewhere in the bustle of the crowd, you swear you hear her call your name, but you’re too locked onto three men in the distance. They’re already in the room, but they’re calling for a fourth person. Fear threatens to strangle you as you run over, the countdown playing loud in the overhead speaker. Their eyes are desperate, arms open to beckon you over to save both your life and theirs.

 

At the last second, you basically ram into one of the men as you barrel into the room, one of them slamming it shut behind you not even a second before the lock clicks. No one speaks as shots ring out from outside the room, and you begin to come to terms with your act of sacrifice for someone you had just met yesterday. 

Fuck, what were you thinking? Are you in this to win or not?

The lock clicks open, and you all step outside. There’s even more fresh blood on the ground, blood that you ignore as your eyes search the arena for your old group. 

“Y/N!”

You spin fast enough to snap your neck at the sound of her voice, and Se-mi runs over to you followed by the rest of the group. You think she’s about to hug you but she stops just short of it, arms lowering back to her side awkwardly before she resigns to grabbing you by the shoulders instead. For a second, you stare at each other in silence, neither knowing what to say.

“Oh shit, that was too cool girl.” Thano’s voice ruins the moment, but before you all begin heading back to the platform, you hear a soft voice from behind Se-mi.

“Thank you.” 

Min-su meekly looks at you with obvious guilt, and Se-mi drops her hands from your shoulders to take your hand as you all walk back towards the center. It’s comforting to have her hand in yours again (especially after you almost died letting go of it).

“It’s fine, I already saw the other group before leaving.” Obvious lie, but he didn’t need to know that. 

As you all begin to spin again, Se-mi gives your hand a short squeeze before looking down at you with a gentle smile that, as always, almost looks like a smirk.

“I was right about you.” You chuckle at this and turn away to hide your reddened face, but of course, the moment doesn’t last very long. 

“3 players.”

The three of you barely spare a glance at Thanos and Nam-gyu before you grab each other’s hands and run off, hearing the rapper scream a curse at your betrayal. You almost want to laugh, but you’re too focused on holding onto Se-mi and Min-su’s hands for dear life as you run towards one of the few open rooms still available. 

They’re filling up too quickly, and out of the corner of your eye, you see two other groups scrambling towards the one room you have your sights set on. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you come to the horrifying realization that groups of three might be too small to fit everyone that was still alive, even if they were all paired up. The thought makes your legs move that much faster, but just as you’re about to reach your safe haven, a body collides with yours and sends you flying towards the floor. 

10 seconds left.

“Min-su?!” He was on your left, but where is he?

7 seconds left.

“Get up, get inside the room!” Se-mi. You’re pretty sure it’s her rough hands that grab your sweater and pull you up.

5 seconds left.

“Where is he?! Min-su!” You stumble over your feet, your mind reeling as you’re bouncing back and forth between trying to find him and trying to follow Se-mi into the room.

3 seconds left.

“Wait! Wait, please help me!” He’s half on the ground, half fighting against a man trying to get up in front of him to enter a room to your right. You’re already in yours, and an arm wrapped tight around your waist prevents you from running out to save his life once again. 

1 second left.

“Let go! Min-su!” 

The buzzer sounds right as the door slams shut in your face.

The lock clicks shut.

Somewhere outside, you hear gunfire and the desperate cries of men and women who failed. 

For a second, you think you can hear him begging for his life, but then a single shot rings out and his fate is sealed.

—

Somewhere in the haze of emotions, you continue to grasp onto her arm like a lifeline. Your head rings, and you don’t even hear the announcer’s call for each of the next two rounds. It’s Se-mi who makes sure you’re right next to her the entire time, no matter which group you join or which room you scramble into. She doesn’t bother to ask if you’re okay (because it is extremely obvious this time, with tear tracks on your cheeks and shallow eyes staring into the distance), but her firm hold on you still shows her underlying care. That, and the slight shake of her body reminds you that despite her previous bravado and confidence, she’s still human just like you. 

When the game ends, you step over the blood of the losers to make it back to the main room (you wonder if you had stepped on Min-su’s as well - the thought of it makes you sick to your stomach). 

Thanos greets the two of you with excitement even after you left him and Nam-gyu in the dust, but you don’t even have it in you to entertain his antics now. Your head was pounding, and the only thing keeping you from curling up into a ball on the spot was Se-mi’s arm around your shoulders; she was holding onto you like you would curl up and die if she let go, which you might. 

When you both settle into her bed, you really begin to feel the weight of his absence. 

“I’m sorry for grabbing you like that,” she says, her voice quiet as if you were a deer about to sprint away. “...You wouldn’t have made it in time-”

“I know.” You’re curt, almost rude, and you feel bad immediately for your outburst. It wasn’t her fault, you reminded yourself. It wasn’t her fault that your first selfless moment in this hellhole means nothing now. “I… I’m sorry. You saved my life. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.” Her hand caresses yours, soothing you into finally allowing your tense body to relax.

Something about her gentle demeanor coaxes out a more peaceful side in you, and you lean your head on her shoulder. You’re pleasantly surprised at her lack of resistance, and something in your gut burns when she leans her head right back on yours. 

For a second, you think about No-eul and feel a strange amount of guilt creeping up on you, but Se-mi changes her grip on your hand slightly to interlace your fingers and it all goes away. You owe nothing to her. Companionship isn’t something she should bar you from looking for when you face death at her hands everyday now. 

What’s so wrong with finding your own comfort in the beautiful, kind, and unexpectedly soft woman sitting next to you? 

—

350 million won. 

It’s enough for those smugglers, enough for her, and so, it’s enough for you to change your vote. 

When red LEDs light up your face and you begin exchanging your blue patch for a red one, you feel the weight of the entire situation crashing down on you. 

You chose life this time. From now on, if you die, it won’t be of your own volition anymore. This fact disturbs you greatly, so you’re quick in pushing through the crowd to get right back to Se-mi’s side. You’re glad she chose to live too. If you made it out of here, you wouldn’t want to lose contact with her. Trauma bonds are pretty strong apparently. 

—

When two groups of men start walking out of the bathrooms covered in blood and money begins to fill the pig again, you shuffle a bit closer to Se-mi, and her grip on your hand tightens. 

Supposedly it was a brawl, and from the frantic head counts of both sides, the O’s had lost one extra man. The sight of a bloody Nam-gyu shuffling onto Thano’s bed, shaking from the drugs with a frantic, bloodthirsty look in his eyes made your stomach drop. Now, there was no idiotic rapper to take hold of his leash, and you were sure he would want to kill you two after you turned your backs on him twice. 

The cold steel of the fork you took from dinner provided a comforting weight inside your pocket. 

“Se-mi.” She turns towards you.

“Yeah?”

“Sleep on this side tonight, okay?” Your grip on her arm is tight and you know you must look completely shaken by now, but she still gives her signature confident smirk.

“Sure, but you better make it worth my while.”

Your face goes red and you scoff, making her chuckle. God, you’re glad you have someone like this by your side.

—

When the screams begin, you immediately dig into your pocket and pull out your makeshift weapon. You want to call out for her, but you’re terrified that if you make a single noise, you and her will be swarmed by the wolves tearing apart the people all around you. 

Where the fuck are the guards?! No, who are you kidding, of course they would sit by and let you kill each other. Probably the highlight of their night. Under the fear, you feel so much anger and pain at the situation that you can barely focus.  

No-eul’s face flashes in your mind once again but now, you’re beginning to struggle to differentiate her from the other murderers all around you. 

No, no, no. You can’t think that way. She’s not like any of them.

“You traitor bitch!” You turn your head down to look for the familiar voice, and to your utter horror, Nam-gyu is standing right below you. Across from him (and cornered against the wall) is Se-mi. Even with the strobing lights, you can see the intense fear under her angry expression. “I’m gonna fucking gut you!”

When he charges at her, you make one of the easiest choices of your entire life and roll off the side of the bunk. 

You nearly miss your landing, but your fork doesn’t and his scream of pain reveals that instantly. You take both him and yourself to the ground, but your heart is racing and you can still feel him bucking from beneath you, so you don’t get a chance to breathe before yanking the fork out of his shoulder and slamming it back down into the side of his neck. The feeling of it sinking it and spraying your hand with hot blood is sickening beyond belief, but you block out everything except the feeling of his squirming beneath you and raise the metal above your head again. 

You aren’t sure how many times you bring it down on him, but a body colliding into yours knocks you out of your spiral.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Se-mi’s voice barely comprehends in your ears, but you can feel her arms around you clearly. “He’s dead, it’s okay, we’re okay.” Her hand rubs your back soothingly, and only then do you realize there are tears pouring down your cheeks.

Your chest heaves as you openly sob, clinging to her like a lifeline and unintentionally smearing the back of her sweater with Nam-gyu’s blood. You shut out everything but her voice, and even when the guards enter and fire into the air, you don’t find yourself flinching once, simply dropping to the floor still in her arms.

—

When some of the players gun down all the guards in the room, you hide in the corner with Se-mi (who was still whispering comforting words into your ears). You watch as players 120 and 456 take center stage in the room, shutting down the last bits of the riot and forcing the one square-mask guard onto his knees. They call for others to join them, others with military experience or even those with the faintest idea of how to use a gun. 

Of course, you had military experience right alongside No-eul, but the ache in your body and the tight grip Se-mi has on you keeps you from getting up. Your head pounds and spins as your eyes begin trailing around the slaughterhouse of a room. 

Dead people in green, dead people in pink. Your eyes linger on the guards and their triangle-masks, immediately recalling the shape No-eul had on hers. 

What if…

No.

The moment the team of rebels leaves, you go to get up but a tight grip on your forearm drags you right back down. 

“Hey, hey, where are you going?” Her eyes are confused but her voice is just as gentle as it’s been the entire time she sat there combing her fingers through your hair and whispering about how brave you were and how thankful she was. “Talk to me please, what’s wrong?”

“I just need to check something, that’s all.” She doesn’t look satisfied, but Se-mi lets you get up after you give her a brisk hug and a strained smile. 

With a shaky breath, you begin to make your rounds. You can feel the eyes on you as you walk up the first guard and pull off their mask, letting out a quiet sigh of relief at the lack of familiarity in their dead eyes. 

With each one, you grow more and more tense, steeling yourself for the possibility of seeing No-eul’s empty, dead eyes staring back at you. 

It would be the thing that kills you. The loss of your reason to fight in the first place. 

Kneeling down next to the final guard, you can barely breathe as your fingers brush against the edge of their mask. Your hands are shaking so bad and you curse yourself for your sudden lack of strength. You would die if it was her. You would pull that fork out of Nam-gyu’s neck and jam it in your own if it was her. 

Shutting your eyes tightly, you tug it off and let it clatter to the side. Your breathing slows when you peek and immediately recognize the face as belonging to a younger man’s, not your No-eul. 

Please God, give me this one thing and let her live. Let us leave with my blood money and never come back.

—

You can’t even feel joy or disappointment when the rebellion inevitably ends in a whimper. 

456 is dragged in and from a quick glance around the room, you see that 001 and 390 are missing as well. 120 and 388 sit dejectedly not too far away from you, and you can’t help but feel for them; they were people, far stronger than you, that failed to be the heroes. You can’t judge them, you never even considered fighting alongside these brave people in the first place. 

Now that everything has calmed down again and lights-out happens like every other night and not the bloodbath that ensued earlier, you’re far more aware of the sticky feeling of blood on your skin. Your sweater even feels slightly heavier, the entire front of it stained with deep red fluid.

“I-I need to wash this off.” Se-mi, who was almost drifting off next to you, shoots awake and gets up right behind you.

“I’ll come with you.” It’s an unspoken fact that she definitely would, but you’re still happy at the confirmation. 

In the haze of everything that’s occurred, you completely forget that No-eul has been the only reason you’ve been able to get into the bathroom these days, and the only reason she lets you in is because you’re you. So, when you call out and the door opens as usual, you’re confused at her stiff posture. However, after a weird awkward silence, she steps aside to let both you and Se-mi in, almost slamming the door behind you two. 

—

No-eul’s eyes trail you two as you enter the bathroom together, and she can barely control herself from charging in there and kicking 380 out altogether; she had warned you about people like her, so what were you still doing clinging to her side like that? Moreover, seeing the blood practically covering your entire front was like a gut punch. 

She should’ve been there. She should’ve blown the heads off of whoever did that to you. She’s been careless, and she understands that now.

The worst she felt was during the Mingle game. Each time she had been sent in, her breath would hitch and she would hesitate for a few seconds at the entrance, eyes scanning the wide open area for any signs of you. Every single time she failed to spot the number 037 on the clothes of those she shot, a weight would be lifted off of her shoulders. 

After the final round, the room doors had opened just before she was able to leave through the soldier’s door. She takes the chance to search for your kind face, and instead is faced with the sight of you practically hanging off of 380, a lost, soulless look in your eyes. Pain for your sadness mixes with some other ugly emotion, and for a second, she lets herself imagine how your expression would change if she sent a bullet through 380’s heart. 

Would you cry out for that woman, or would you call No-eul’s name out of instinct, like a lost animal begging for comfort?

In the end, she simply leaves with her fellow soldiers, silently cursing herself for such a violent thought. 

—

As you scrub the blood off your face, neck, and hands, you do your best to not let your gaze drift back over to Se-mi. She finishes cleaning up long before you, and you can feel her eyes on you as you scrub away. But no matter how hard you seem to scratch at your hands, the faint red tint just won’t come out. Your breathing grows heavy, and you begin to rub at it harder with the soap. 

Your hands are still red.

The blood from his neck covers your hands, the sounds, the sounds-

“That’s good enough,” a soft voice sounds from beside you, gently taking your hands in hers as you shake.

“No, no, there’s still blood, I-, there’s still…” You turn your hands this way and that, examining them and the red tint you can’t seem to get rid of.

“It’s not blood, you’ve just been rubbing too hard…” She shushes you gently and her thumbs begin tracing circles on your raw palms. “I’m sorry you had to do that, I really am.”

You can only shake your head and press your face in the crook of her neck. It’s a familiar position, one you were in only last night but with a completely different woman. She’s just as soft as No-eul, but she doesn’t wrap her arms around your body and pull you close. Instead, her fingers find the zipper of your bloodied sweater and gently begin to pull it down. The motion makes you back away a little, and she lets your sweater fall to the ground after tugging it off you. 

It’s freeing without the weight of all that blood on you, and your heart swells when she takes off her own jacket to put it on you. This is the kind of care you rarely find yourself receiving, and whenever you did, it was usually by the hand of only one other person. You would have never expected the cocky, confident girl you met two days ago would become this important to you. 

You were right about her. Se-mi was the ever genuine, ever caring woman you hoped she was after your first real conversation together, and you wonder if the world finally decided to go easy on you for once by sending you a beacon of strength in the middle of this hellhole. 

“Thank you, Se-mi,” you breathe out, the feeling of her fingertips grazing the skin of your arms still present long after her hands have dropped back to her side.

She doesn’t respond. Her gaze is still heavy on you, but this time, you hold eye contact and let yourself drown in her eyes. For a split second, you’re sure you see them dart down to your lips, and you think she might just eat you alive with the way she’s examining you.

In an act that surprises even yourself, it’s you who leans forward and presses your lips against hers. Cliche fireworks don’t go off, but the second she reciprocates by grabbing the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, you feel the tension between you two finally reach a high point, and it’s euphoric.

You hold each other with pure, unadulterated desire as one of her hands travel down to your waist, pulling you in. The kiss deepens and somewhere in the back of your mind, you think of No-eul. She was right outside that door, what if you were caught?

What the hell are you thinking about right now?

“You’re beautiful, so perfect,” she whispers, and her words make your heart beat that much faster. “My brave girl.” Se-mi breaks the kiss to press her lips against your neck now instead, drawing a moan from deep in your throat. She’s still holding onto you like her life depends on it. 

Unfortunately, your mind is still whirling and you have to remind yourself once again that you owe No-eul absolutely nothing. She shouldn’t and wouldn’t be angry over you finding someone to love, who loved you in a place like this. Is it wrong to search for comfort when you’re so sure you might die tomorrow? Especially from someone like Se-mi, who has done nothing but protect you and care for you.

Your hands tangle in her hair as she slides a hand beneath your shirt-

“Player 380.”

You spin around as the door slams open, a gruff voice making you jump apart from Se-mi. You shouldn’t feel ashamed, but you do, especially when you can feel No-eul’s eyes trailing up and down your disheveled form, and you know she knows exactly what happened here.

“Get back to the room.” You look down to see her revolver gripped tightly in her hand, as if she’s fighting the urge to lift it.

“Just give us a couple more-”

“Now.” She practically growls out that last word, and you can hear a click in the silent bathroom as she loads her revolver at her side. 

Se-mi is brave, but she’s still smart enough to realize that she’s being threatened and would not win a fight against the taller woman with a loaded gun. WIth her head held high, she takes your hand and begins walking around the guard, but No-eul steps in her way and shakes her head.

“037 stays.” You all pause, and Se-mi grips your hand tighter.

“What? What the fuck are you on about? Just let us go back to the room-”

“She stays. Now get out before I make you.” No-eul takes a step forward, hand raising to point the barrel of the gun in Se-mi’s face. 

It’s difficult to hold herself back when she’s this close to doing what she wants with this random woman who’s begun impeaching on her world. The barrier holding you and No-eul together, apart from everyone else, has been disrupted, and she begins to wonder if you’ll actually hate her if she pulls the trigger now. She wants to, especially hearing you fucking moan for this woman.

Where else has she touched you? 

Her trigger finger twitches. 

“It’s okay, Se-mi,” you whisper, breaking your gaze from No-eul to look over at her. 

First name basis? You really want her to kill this woman.

“Just go, I’ll see you in a bit.”

Se-mi looks at you, confusion apparent in her features, but your face is perfectly calm and even though that disturbs her a little, she accepts it. She’ll trust you to stay alive with this psycho.

“Okay, just call out for me if you need anything.” No-eul scoffs at this, earning a glare from Se-mi before she walks out the bathroom. She spares you one final glance over her shoulder, and with a nod from you, she exits.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, huh?!” You’re practically burning with anger at her behavior, but No-eul ignores your outburst and walks over to the door, turning the latch to lock it before turning back around to look at you. “You think ‘cause you have that mask on you can just go around pointing your gun at everyone?!”

“And what the hell were you doing?” She pulls her mask off, throwing it to the floor before pulling down her face covering. Now, you can actually see the anger simmering beneath her eyes, an accusatory look on her face as she steps closer. “Were you planning on having sex with her or something? This stranger you just met?”

Your face begins to burn for a different reason now.

“That’s… that’s none of your business. I’m a grown woman, I can decide what I want to do or not do.” Your voice is far too unsure and she laughs sarcastically. Running a hand through her sweaty hair, she approaches to stand right in front of you. Your breathing slows as her eyes trail down your face, locking onto the number 380 right above your heart. Her lips curl into a frown and she grabs Se-mi’s sweater, looking like she wanted to burn a hole through the number on your chest. 

To her, it’s a reminder of her failure to protect you as she swore she always would, and now, in the wake of this failure, another person has come along and threatened to take her place - a place in your life she would kill anyone to keep. 

“Take this off,” she breathes out. The air is tense, and you almost want to deny her just to see what she would do, but fuck, she almost looks genuinely hurt and you can’t say no now. 

With your eyes still locked onto hers, you slowly pull the sweater off and let it drop to the ground at your feet. Her eyes are still pinned to your chest, but now you’re so close that you can feel her soft breathing on your face. You swallow harshly and press your face against her shoulder, bunching up her pink tracksuit in your hands as you pull her closer. The feeling of her so close again kills all the tension in your shoulders. This is the safest you’ve felt in 24 hours, and it’s in the arms of a woman who’s been killing people like you the entire time. 

You’re almost a bit ashamed, but what’s wrong with being a bit selfish for once?

You’re shaking in her arms when she pulls back slightly to cup your wet cheeks in her hands. You hadn’t even realized you had started crying again, but now, she’s looking down at your glassy eyes and swollen lips with so much intensity that you forget why you were crying in the first place. Her thumb swipes a tear off your cheek before she leans down, lips brushing against yours. 

“My beautiful girl.”

Finally, nine years after the day you met, she presses her lips against yours and claims you as hers. Faintly, you feel your back collide with the wall behind you as her tongue slips in your mouth. You’re holding onto her suit for dear life as she practically devours you, and you wonder how you were ever angry at this woman. It’s far more intense than the softness you experienced earlier with Se-mi, and you’re beginning to feel the effects of being pent up for so long. 

It’s not like you’ve never had sex with her before (to be fair, it’s only happened once), but this was far too emotional to be compared to the drunken haze you were both in when she fucked you over the seat of her van. There were no kisses shared then, no gentle caress of your face before she took you for herself. 

You’re dragged from your own thoughts when you feel a hand slide under your shirt and bra, gasping into her mouth as a cold hand cups your breast, roughly pinching your nipple between two fingers. You whimper right into her ear as her lips move down to your neck, sucking and biting as you openly pant. She’s practically surrounded you by now, but it’s not enough. 

With trembling hands, you grab the zipper of her pink suit and yank it down to reveal her slender body underneath. Your fingers scratch down her toned torso and you drink in the wonderful groan that leaves her mouth. As you’re preoccupied, she tugs on the hem of your sweatpants, pulling them down right along with your panties in one pull. 

Faintly, as her hands grip the plush of your thighs, you try to determine if you’ve ever felt such strong feelings of desire, of love, of anything with anybody. 

No, you’re sure you’ve felt this before. 

Your eyes shoot open as she calls your name. Somewhere in the haze, No-eul has dropped to her knees in front of you, and now, she’s looking at you like you hold the world in your hands.

“Do you still love me?” A pause, and her fingers press harder into your thigh, cold leather gloves long forgotten on the floor. “Can you still accept me?”

Every moment that you remember being so close to that overwhelming emotion, No-eul is right there next to you. 

“I’ve loved you since the day we met.”

A tear falls from her pained eyes, but you aren’t given the opportunity to wipe it away before she leans forward and presses her open mouth against your core. A gasp leaves your mouth and you immediately tangle your fingers in her short hair. It’s a bit too much to take in all at once - the woman you’ve loved for years is fucking you, and this time, you think she might actually love you back.

No, who are you kidding, you know she loves you. Maybe not as much as you love her, but she has to love you if she’s on her knees like this for you.

With the comfort of this knowledge, you lean your head back and lose yourself in the feeling of her tongue deep inside you, strong hands holding you still against the wall even if your legs feel like giving out. As your moans and pants fill the room, you beg internally that Se-mi isn’t waiting right outside the door to walk you back (or at least let the sound-proofing be decent). 

Unsurprisingly, after a couple years without any genuine intimacy with anyone (you couldn’t bear to let anyone fuck you after No-eul did), you reach your peak quickly. It doesn’t feel like some triumphant moment; your legs shake as the tight coil in your stomach unwinds and it’s satisfying to some extent, but you can’t stop the sudden rush of tears that follow. 

Why did your acceptance of your feelings for her have to come in a place like this - covered in the blood of someone you killed with your own two hands? 

Your legs finally give out in your grief, but she’s quick to catch you, leaning back to properly sit down on the floor as she carefully guides you onto her lap. For a moment, you just tuck your head in her neck and cry as a hand gently rubs your back. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” No-eul whispers, caught up in her own guilt for leading you down the same hateful path she accepted long ago. Why did you have to love her? Why did you have to follow her road towards self-destruction, the one she vowed to shield you from?

You want to tell her that she has nothing to be sorry about because you chose all of this on your own, but you can’t bring yourself to speak. You’re worried that if you open your mouth now, all you’ll do is start spouting nonsense about how much you love her and how much of your humanity you would forsake to protect her dream. 

Instead of further exposing yourself, you gently take the hand she’s kept on your waist and guide it down lower once again. To her credit, she understands right away and you’re given no time to prepare for the two long, slender fingers she pushes inside you. The sound of your sharp inhale right next to her ear must’ve been enough confirmation that you were okay, because she immediately starts moving them up and down inside you, rubbing gently against your still sensitive walls. 

Your hands wrap around her back and grip her shoulders as your hips begin to move in tandem with her hands, your heavy breathing a stark contrast against her soft one. The hand she had on your back is still there, soothing you until your tears turn from ones of sadness to ones of pleasure. 

As the high you’re chasing starts to get closer, you tear your nails down her back. Even though she’s still the same person as she was minutes ago, something feels different this time.

“Please don’t stop, please-”

“I won’t, I swear.” The hand on your back flies down to grip your hips to hold you steady as your movements grow more frantic. “I’ll never let you go, not for anything.”

You almost fall forward when she suddenly leans back, but you catch yourself on her shoulders once again. This time, she looks you square in the eyes as she pushes you over the edge, her gaze filled with an emotion you know too well.

“I love you,” she breathes out, and this is all you need to fall apart in her hands. “I’m in love with you, I can’t let you go, I won’t.”

In the afterglow of the moment, she wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you right up against her body.

“Even if you can’t love me anymore, I’ll continue holding onto you for the rest of my life.”

You smile at her words. You feel more content than you ever have before.

It wouldn’t be so bad to die in this place now.

—

A/N: my bad min-su fans and nam-guy fans, its for the plot y'all😭😭also if im being completely honest, I started writing writing this longass story just for smut with no-eul but it got so unexpectedly deep cuz I couldn't handle writing it with no build-up or emotional tension or ANYTHING

hope y'all enjoyed and LOL to the fellow FREAKS out there I hope the smut was alright cuz that was the most difficult part for me... LMK WHAT U THINK!! pt. 3 is coming in SEVEN MONTHS LMFAO😭😭😭SEASON 3 SAVE ME... SAVE ME SEASON 3

also if u request feel free to add details and stuff I might be able to build it into a longass story like this (but WOW this took too long) also I LOVE TO WRITE SAD SHT!!! SEND ME SAD SHT ILL LOVE IT!!

Taglist: @asvterias

[bapeach]

My nerd

I'm still new to writing so if this is bad then I'm sorry, lol. English isn't my first language so I'm sorry for any possible grammar mistakes :). Let me know what you guys think!

Pairing(s): Nika Mühl x female!reader Word count: 2.3k+ Summary: Turns out the intimidating giant is actually a big nerd. Something Nika will never let Y/N forget. ------------

When you first got to Uconn, everyone was pretty intimidated by you. Not entirely surprising, you supposed. Even in a gym full of basketball players, you rose above them, standing at a whopping 6'7". It didn't help that you had dark eyes that seemed to always peer into the soul of the person you were looking at. Nor did it help that both of your arms were fully tatted up and that you had a resting frown on your face. You couldn't help it, your face always looked like you were trying to solve a hard math question or trying to figure out everyone's biggest secret. You didn't exactly mind being intimidating though, often standing with your arms crossed, slightly flexing your muscles. And God did you have muscles. When Paige first saw you, the first thing going through her mind was how you could easily snap her in two.

To everyone's surprise you weren't that scary once they got to know you. Sure, you still had the ability to make anyone shut up with a single well-aimed look that seemed to say “knock it off”. And yeah, you were still able to halt everyone's conversation, eyes focused only on you, when you had something important to say. But the team also got to know the real you. When needed, you could match KK's high energy, being able to hype up the entire team with a few witty jokes, cocky smirks, and well-timed speeches. The team needed a calmer presence? Then there you were, matching Azzi's comforting calmness, being a rock to lean on and a shoulder to cry on. 

The team knew you almost inside and out, just like you knew all of them. From KK's favorite ice cream flavor to Nika's favorite Croatian show. You guys didn't feel the need to keep secrets. You suppose that's why you all work so well together, both on the court and off. Except the team didn't fully know you, did they? 

You were known for your fierce protectiveness of the team, always ready to defend them, no matter what. You exuded an intense aura that scared off anyone trying to mess with you or your family and friends. But below all of that…? You were a nerd. 

You know there's nothing wrong with being a nerd, but still, you prefer to be known for your strength and resilience. So no, the team doesn't know you can solve a Rubik's cube with your eyes closed (It's not that hard once you know the patterns, you swear), they don't know you like playing chess (What? It's calming...) or that you're secretly a huge sci-fi fan (C'mon, Star Wars and Doctor Who are classics!). Hell, they didn't even know you wore glasses... 

You knew there was nothing wrong with glasses either, you personally even found them quite attractive on other people, but you chose to only wear them in the comfort of your own dorm. You were lucky to have scored a single dorm, not having to deal with any annoying roommates doing god knows what. The team hadn't even seen the inside of the apartment, all of you always hanging out in one of the bigger dorms, having to be able to comfortably fit an entire basketball team in there. Some teammates had caught small glimpses into the living area of your home away from home, but there wasn't much to note about it. It was your room that had all your geek stuff. 

An entire wall lined with books, ranging from the classics to the newest YA sapphic novels. Your  Rubik’s cubes in different shapes and sizes scattered amongst them. A couple of Lego sets standing proudly on the few available surfaces. And amidst it, there you were, sitting on your bed at 2 AM, wearing an old Doctor Who shirt, glasses perched on your nose as you watched your favorite doctor on his latest adventure. The Hedwig the owl plushie that you got as a birthday present years ago (which you swore you only still kept to keep your mom happy) sitting next to you, tucked in but still in view of the screen (she wanted to watch as well, okay?). 

When the team had suggested going to a bar after an intense practice, you’d hesitated. On one hand you wanted to go. You weren’t really the party and drinking type, but you always felt better knowing you were with the girls, being able to keep an eye on them. On the other hand your bones felt heavy from practice and your bed was calling your name. Declining their invitation, you figured you wouldn’t be hearing from the girls until late the next day, having them complain about being hungover in the group chat. Turns out you were wrong.

Hearing a knock on your door, you paused your show, listening intently to see if you were just imagining things. Hearing another knock and loud giggles outside, followed by someone shushing, you walked over to your door. Not paying any mind to what you were wearing, you opened the door, confusion clear on your face as well as worry. Because the only people who’d be knocking on your door in the middle of the night would be the girls, and that meant they needed something that couldn’t wait until the morning.

Looking down slightly, you see an apologetic-looking Azzi holding a giggling Nika under one arm while trying to make sure Paige (who was mumbling some type of nonsense about flying snakes playing basketball?) didn’t fall over beside her. “Hey, I’m really sorry to be knocking on your door, Y/N, but these two idiots-” ”HEY!” “-decided to drink too much, and I can’t handle both of them, especially not together.” Azzi apologizes, sending Paige a stern look when she interrupts her. Azzi looks at you, guilt clear in her eyes, knowing that you’re gonna be dealing with a drunk Nika who will undoubtedly tease the hell out of you once she realizes what you’re wearing. 

Nika, who only just seems to have realized she’s standing in front of your door (the girl she might or might not have a huge tiny crush on), grins widely, slipping out from underneath Azzi’s arm, right into yours. Squeezing the taller girl tightly, she mumbles (though it feels more like a shout in your ear), “Hey Y/N/N!”. Wincing slightly at the loudness, you hold Nika in your arms, mumbling a “Hi” before focusing back on Azzi. “Don’t worry about it, Azz, I’ve got her.” you say smiling at her, trying to make sure she knows you’re not upset. “Have a good night and good luck with…” you trail off, looking at Paige in confusion as she stumbles away from Azzi to go talk to the wall about… crocodiles riding skateboards? You give the sober girl one last grin before sending both of them a wave and pulling Nika into your dorm.

Looking down at her, you shake your head slightly. This is gonna be a challenge. Drunk Nika means a lot of cockiness, a lot of teasing, and a lot of flirting… “C’mon, Niks, let’s get you ready for bed.” you say softly, hoping your calming tone will make the Croatian girl relax and comply. Grabbing hold of her hand, you turn to your bedroom, but she doesn’t let you get very far. “Nooo,” she grumbles, her accent coming out slightly as she slurs her words. Pulling you into another hug with a bit more force than expected, she falls right into you, “I missed you tonight.”. 

You hold the shorter girl closer to your chest, knowing things will go easier if you just follow along with what she’s doing. (And okay, maybe you’d missed her too, but how could you not? Nika was smart, funny, fearless, kind, extremely beautiful, and exactly your type. Not that any of that mattered. You were pretty sure she was straight. Sure, she flirted with you and complimented you all the time, but that’s just the kind of friend she is.). Putting your face into the crook of her neck, you can’t help inhaling her scent. She smells like alcohol and sweat from dancing, but there’s also a hint of something else. A scent that’s unique to her. It’s soft and comforting, and it makes you wish you could just hold her close to you forever.

“I missed you too,” you say, pulling back and giving her a kiss on the forehead, “let’s go to my room now, yeah?”. You walk into your bedroom, guiding Nika’s hips as you push her to your bed, before going to close your door. “Wait… are you wearing glasses?” she says, looking at you in shock. You grin at her, shaking your head at how cute she looks. (How did it take her this long to notice?). “Shuddup” you say with a tiny smirk on your face as you walk back over. “No no, you look really hot.” she says leaning in a bit closer to look at your properly. “Like a hot nerd.” she starts laughing to herself. You playfully roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. The movement immediately catches Nika’s eye, her laugh coming to a stop as she stares at your muscular arms. Your smirk grows, seeing the way the brunette can’t stop gawking at you. (And okay, maybe you flexed your muscles a bit more, liking the way she was looking at you, but you were allowed to have a bit of fun, weren’t you?).

As Nika’s eyes roam your figure, her eyes drop to the shirt you’re wearing. “Wait, what are you wearing?” she questioned, her eyes wide as a grin starts forming on her face. Damn it, here we go. Moving towards your closet, you ask, “What do you wanna sleep in? Shorts? Sweats? Do you want a hoodie or just a shirt?”, hoping she’ll be drunk enough to have a shortened attention span. Your wishes, however, don’t get answered. “Oh my god…” she gasps, making you turn around, slightly alarmed at her sudden outburst. “You’re a nerd!” she exclaimed, looking around and seeing all your geeky knick-knacks. 

When Azzi came knocking on your door with a drunk Nika under her arm, you happily took the wasted girl in. Now though? Now you were thinking of all the ways Azzi could make it up to you. 

You throw the smirking girl a pair of shorts and a shirt, successfully managing to have them hit her right in the face. You walk over to her, ready to help her get changed. “You tell anyone about this, Mühl, and you’re dead.” you reply, knowing you’ll be teased relentlessly next practice, Nika not being able to keep something like this quiet. “All this time everyone has seen you as this tough, badass woman,” the brunette starts, her voice sounding muffled as you help her pull off her shirt, “but you’re actually just a dork!”. You can’t find it in yourself to feel annoyed at her teasing. After all, this was Nika, your crush best friend, the girl that could do no harm in your eyes. 

She continues on rambling as you finish getting her ready for bed. Giggling to herself, the still very tipsy girl plops down on your bed, grabbing hold of your Hedwig plush, wiggling it in your face. You sigh softly with a small smile. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” you laugh. “Nope.” she giggled. “But for what it’s worth… it’s pretty cute… you’re pretty cute.” she mumbles, looking down as a blush forms on her cheeks.

“Yeah?” you muttered, taking a step closer to her, moving a piece of hair behind her ear. “Yeah.” she replies, looking back up into your eyes. While you and Nika flirt with each other all the time, this time feels different. More real. 

You notice how her eyes flicker down to your lips, and for a second you let yourself daydream about how it would feel to press your lips against hers. When the shorter girl leans in, you take a small step back, feeling your heart break a little as a frown forms on her face. “We can’t, Niks” you whisper, taking a step closer again as you grab her hand and give it a light squeeze. “Why not?” she pouts. “Because you’re drunk, and I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.” you answer with a small smile, hoping to soothe her. “I wouldn’t regret it!” she shakes her head with her brows furrowed, “I’ve liked you for ages now, but you’re such an oblivious idiot sometimes!”. 

You open your mouth to reply but close it again, thinking back on your whole friendship with the girl. Maybe all that flirting wasn’t just a joke… Okay yeah, maybe you were an idiot. You grab her face between your hands, leaning in a little to kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry.” you mutter, lips still pressed against the Croatian’s skin. You pull back slightly, seeing her start smiling again, cheeks a beautiful rose color. “Tomorrow,” you promise her, “if you still want this tomorrow, then I swear I will take you on the best date of your life.”. She smiles a big, toothy grin, “Deal Y/L.” You grin back, pulling her over to your bed, already thinking about where you’re gonna be taking her. 

As you both lay face to face, you can’t help but admire her. Her long, beautiful lashes, her pink lips, her cute nose… You think you might be the luckiest girl in the world. 

Nika sighs contently, closing her eyes as she slides one hand over to hold yours while the other slides underneath the pillow. She furrows her brows, opening her eyes again as her hand touches paper. Grabbing the item from underneath the pillow, she lets out a loud laugh. A sudoku. “God, you’re a nerd,” she says with a wide grin. You let out a little laugh, looking at her sheepishly. “but you’re my nerd.” she finishes with a twinkle in her eyes.

Maybe you should thank Azzi for tonight after all.

[ikkyfics]

Where the Sun Meets Love

Finnick Odair x f!reader

Summary: During a quiet night, Finnick finds a song and, without thinking twice, invites you to dance in the living room.

Warnings: fluffy, modern!au, est. relationship

Masterlist

The night gently fell over the wooden house, which seemed even cozier under the warm glow of the lamps. The salty smell of the sea came through the slightly open window, mixed with the sound of waves crashing in the distance. You were sitting on the couch, holding a cup of hot tea in your hands, while Finnick fiddled with an old record player he had insisted on fixing that week.

“It’s going to work, I swear,” he said for the third time, his tongue between his teeth as he adjusted something on the needle.

“You’ve said that for the last fifteen minutes,” you replied, laughing, but not taking your eyes off him.

Finnick always had this way of making simple things seem extraordinary. He wasn’t just fixing a record player; he was bringing something to life, as if every little detail mattered to him. That’s what you loved most about him: his ability to see beauty and meaning in everything.

Suddenly, the music started playing. It was a soft, nostalgic melody, the kind of music that felt made for slow dancing. Finnick stood up, smiling like a child who had just won a prize.

“I told you it would work,” he announced, triumphant.

You just rolled your eyes, hiding a smile behind the mug.

But before you could respond, he crossed the room in two quick steps and extended his hand to you. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” you asked, suspicious.

“Dance,” he replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Finnick…” You laughed, placing the mug on the coffee table. “I don’t know how to dance.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smile turning into something more challenging. “Of course, you do. Everyone knows. You just have to get up.”

“I’m a disaster,” you insisted, but he was already holding your hand and gently pulling you up.

Finnick led you to the center of the room, where the music filled the space with a magical atmosphere. He held your hand with a gentle firmness, the other hand resting on your waist.

“Trust me,” he said, his green eyes shining with a warmth that made you forget any argument you might have had.

You sighed but couldn’t resist. It was impossible to resist Finnick Odair, especially when he looked at you like that.

“Alright,” you murmured, allowing him to guide your steps.

At first, you stumbled more than you’d like to admit, stepping on his feet and letting out nervous laughs every time it happened. But Finnick just laughed along, holding you more firmly and whispering encouraging words.

Slowly, you began to relax. He guided you so effortlessly it felt like you were floating. Your steps became more natural, and the sound of the music and his presence filled every corner of your mind.

“I told you, you know how to dance,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of affection, like a wave whispering as it breaks on the shore.

You felt his words drifting through the air between you, so close that it was impossible not to notice the warmth emanating from him. Finnick’s skin was warm, heated by the day’s sun, with a slight hint of salt and sea breeze. His scent was an intoxicating mix of the sea and something citrusy, maybe orange or lemon, fresh and irresistible, as if summer had chosen to live inside him.

His fingers intertwined with yours were firm, but the hand on your waist brought a delicate contrast, as if he feared you might disappear if he didn’t hold you with such care. With every small movement, you felt the texture of fine sand still stuck at the edges of your shirt, a reminder of the day you’d spent together at the beach.

You looked up to meet his eyes—green so intense it felt like they contained the ocean itself. The smile Finnick wore now wasn’t the usual playful, teasing one. It was calmer, more intimate, as if he was seeing something in you that the whole world would never understand.

“You only say that because you love me,” you replied, your voice so soft it almost got lost in the music.

“Exactly,” he said without hesitation, his lips curving into a wider smile, one that warmed you from the inside out.

The music continued playing, but it wasn’t about the steps anymore. It was about the way he slightly tilted his head, as if he wanted to memorize every detail of your face. It was about how you swayed together, in a rhythm that had nothing to do with the song and everything to do with what you felt.

Finnick leaned in, and you could feel his breath, warm and soft, brushing against your skin. His fingers slowly slid from your back to the exact point where your waist curved, and the touch was so light it felt like a whisper.

"You're so..." He stopped, as if trying to find the right word. But before he could continue, you saw the spark in his eyes, and it was as if he didn’t need to say anything else. The silence was more eloquent than anything that could come from his mouth.

You stayed like that, slowly swaying in the center of the room. It didn't matter anymore what was around you; the entire world seemed to have been reduced to that small moment. His forehead gently pressed against yours, and the warmth of his skin mingled with yours.

His fingers traced a light line from your temple to the curve of your jaw. It was a touch almost reverent, as if he wanted to map every piece of you carefully, so he would never forget.

"I could stay like this forever," he whispered, his voice so quiet that it seemed meant only for you to hear.

His words carried a soft weight, as if they were woven by hand, each syllable imbued with something you couldn’t name but felt deeply. The warmth radiating from his skin seemed to envelop you completely, like the sun kissing the sand on a summer day.

You tilted your head back, your eyes meeting his. There was a light there, a mix of adoration and tenderness, that made your heart beat in a way that almost hurt. He didn’t look away, as if he were submerged in you, navigating through every emotion that passed across your face.

"I feel the same," you replied, your voice almost faltering—not because it was hard to say, but because the truth of those words filled every corner of your being.

Finnick smiled, that light smile, but so full of meaning it seemed to carry the world. His hand, still resting on your waist, applied a subtle pressure, pulling you just a little closer. The music playing in the background now seemed distant, almost irrelevant, replaced by the constant rhythm of your two breaths, so close it was hard to tell where his ended and yours began.

"I need to..." He started, but the words died on his lips, replaced by an action. Finnick tilted his head, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, a caress so light it made your eyes close reflexively.

His hand slowly moved up, leaving your waist to rest on the side of your face. His thumb traced a slow, almost hesitant path along the curve of your cheek. You felt his touch, warm, with the slight roughness of someone who had spent the day under the sun, yet still so gentle, as if it was made just for you.

"You make me... so lost," he whispered, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours.

And then, slowly, Finnick closed the distance. The kiss began soft, almost shy, as if he wanted to savor the moment in pieces. His taste was a mix of sea salt and something sweet that seemed inherent to Finnick, as if it were impossible to separate him from everything warm and tender.

The hand on your cheek slid to the base of your neck, and you felt his fingers gently intertwine with the strands of your hair. He pulled you closer, the movement as natural as breathing, as if he needed it to exist.

The entire world seemed to disappear. There was nothing left but the heat you shared, the sound of his breath mingling with yours, and the way your bodies moved lightly, still swaying to the rhythm of the forgotten music.

When Finnick finally pulled away, it was just enough to look at you again. His eyes were shining, so green and deep that you could swear they held the entire ocean.

"I didn't know I could love someone like this," he murmured, his voice thick with a raw honesty that made your heart tighten.

You smiled, feeling the tips of his fingers still resting on the line of your jaw, as if he needed to keep the contact. "I think you just stole my words," you said, your smile softening into something more intimate.

Finnick laughed, a low, satisfied sound, before resting his forehead against yours again. "Then we’re even," he whispered, his lips brushing yours in a light touch, like a whisper against your skin.

You stayed like that, your bodies so close it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. The sound of the music blended with the distant waves, but none of that mattered anymore. Everything you needed was rig

[dreadnoughtus101]

Pro

Tsukishima Kei

Where the reader is a pro volleyball player and Ukai brought in her team to help teach Karasuno new techniques

______________________________________________________________

Pro!Reader

Tall!Reader

This one is kind of rushed, but I don't mind making a part 2? Left it pretty open ended for everyone to imagine what they want.

"Okay everybody, please behave yourselves." Daichi pleaded with the team.

It was last week that coach Ukai had told them he was bringing in the Yokohama team, a professional group of female volleyball players, in to help with Karasunos technique.

Now, today was the day, and the captain only hoped they wouldn't make a fool of themselves.

· · ��───────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

You walked into the gym, right behind your teammates. You felt more nervous than usual, yet tried to keep it calm. It was last week that your coach had sat you guys down and told you about Karasuno, a team full of boys that hoped to go pro. It wasn't you who agreed to this, if anything it seemed like you were the only one against it. Why should we travel so far to help them? What difference does our help make compared to any other?

You saw the group of boys sitting in a group near a bench, eagerly waiting for you all. One boy in particular, a short one with orange hair, immediately sprung up and ran to greet you guys.

"Guys! It's them! It's Yokohama! Have you guys seen their plays!?" He was practically jumping, beaming with excitement. You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at the pure excitement he displayed at just seeing your team. Karasuno stood to greet you guys, the captains talking. They both agreed that they would pair you guys up by numbers. They went down the line, introducing everyone to their new respective counterpart.

"Eleven, y/n, you'll be working with Tsukishima."

They played a practice match for you guys to observe their play styles. You watched Tsukishima on the court, his effortless blocks. You noted some things you could show him, but you also noted that he was one of the better players you had seen.

You noticed some similarities between you two, most particularly how you both were the tallest on your teams.

"So," He was the first one to speak up as you guys walked to a corner of the gym to practice alone, "What position do you play..?" He mumbled. You let out a small laugh, it was refreshing to be asked something like that. Most people already knew simple things like that about you and immediately jumped into asking the private questions. It was one of the many cons about going pro. "Middle blocker." You replied flatly. He nodded, "Me too." You didn't realize it, but he felt a burn on his cheeks. To him, this was an obvious and stupid question to ask. You looked up at him and realized the height difference. You were used to being too tall for most boys, even though you only stood at 5'11. To some, this was too tall, but somehow he was actually taller than you.

You two had spent the next few hours practicing together, giving him tips on how to get better and small changes he could make. You noticed yourself staring at him a bit more than you probably should have. Admiring the way his hair perfectly framed his face, the way his glasses highlighted his golden brown eyes, his slender fingers. "Are you okay?" You heard him ask.

You snapped out of it, realizing you had been staring. Quietly apologizing, you tried to change the subject. "Have you thought about going pro?" He let out a scoff, as if it was a dumb question. "I wouldn't stick around for this long if I hadn't." You felt the same burning in your face that he had earlier, and just nodded, almost feeling guilty for asking such a dumb question. He noticed this before adding, "Why did you decide to?"

It was a good question, one you hated having to answer. "I'm not.. entirely sure." You paused mid sentence, "My parents were, so it was just kind of expected for me. It's not that I hate it, but sometimes I think of doing other stuff when I get older." He nodded along. You hated being a pro at so young. It drew so much attention towards you and it was hard to keep simple aspects of your life private. You never had many friends outside of your team, couldn't go to public school, and everywhere you went there were cameras flashing in your face. You enjoyed it, but the fame was tiring.

You noticed that this time, he was the one looking at you, studying your features.

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

When your team had left, the coaches insisted you all kept in contact with each other. You wouldn't have minded it so much if it weren't for the fact that you just could not stop thinking about him.

It was a few weeks after, you sat outside after practice. Your team mate and best friend, f/n, sat next to you. "Have you talked to that Tsukishima boy yet?" She asked, a sly grin on her face. "No, why?" You questioned. There wasn't much to talk about, but you told him you could text him if he needed any more help. "I saw the way you two were staring at each other, I mean come on, y/n, its a perfect match." You scoffed at her and rolled your eyes. "Why, 'cause we're both tall?" She playfully nudged your shoulder "AND," she added, "You both play the same position! Plus, he's cute."

Your face blushed, you knew she was just teasing you but what was the harm in getting closer to him? She wasn't wrong, he really was cute.

"I don't think I should be getting into relationships though, it would never be private." You looked at her, a tinge of sadness in your eyes at the thought of it. You were never able to have a boyfriend and while you never really wanted one, you started to toy with the idea a little bit after seeing him.

F/n only rolled her eyes, "I think you're dramatic."

Maybe you were, maybe not. What was worth the risk?

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

You heard the familiar DING from your phone, a new text from someone.

"It's Tsukishima, thanks for the help last month."

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw his name, realizing he was the one texting you.

"Of course, any time."

It felt embarrassing in a way, wondering if you should've added more or less, looking for a way to keep the conversation going. You didn't have to though, it was like he read your mind.

"Would you wanna go to a cafe with me this weekend?"

Were you imagining things? It wasn't even a minute later that he texted again.

"Sorry, forget it. Nevermind."

Why was he backing down now?

"No wait, I'd love to."

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

And so, the following Monday after that weekend, neither of you said a word to anyone, it was the news paper that did the talking for you both.

"Y/N L/N SEEN WITH BOY AT CAFE THIS SATURDAY MORNING."

Included with a picture and all.

[hotvintagepoll]

Thomas Mitchell (It's a Wonderful Life, Stagecoach, Only Angels Have Wings)—In It's a Wonderful Life, he's Uncle Billy, the man who ties string around his fingers to remind him of things (and STILL misses his nephew's wedding) and has a pet squirrel to comfort him in times of need; in Stagecoach (for which he won an Oscar!), he is a delightfully rough-and-tumble alcoholic who comes through for his fellow stagecoach passengers when they need him; in Pocketful of Miracles, he is a charming old-timer pool hustler who will rob you blind while reciting Shakespeare to you; I have not seen The Black Swan but he seems to have played some sort of pirate-y sidekick. Everywhere you look, this man was scrungling! (Also fun fact: he was the first actor to win competitive acting awards at the Oscars, Tonys, and Emmys, aka the Triple Crown of Acting!)

Harpo Marx (Night at the Opera, Night in Casablanca, Duck Soup)—While Groucho is better-known, Harpo's physical comedy is SECOND-TO-NONE. The man is a strange mime trapped in the paradigm of early 20th century movies. Every move is a symphony and simultaneously a colony of rats in a human skin suit. LISTEN. You MUST see this man in motion. Every still photo of him looks like a combination of a sad clown and a different, sadder clown, but it's only because he put so much joy in every motion.

This is round 3 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you’re confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Thomas Mitchell:

One of those job'bing character actors who turn up in a lot of movies in bit parts. He is a very good actor, with a lot of pathos—you probably know him as the uncle from It's a Wonderful Life, or Jean Arthur's newspaper friend from Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. A salt of the earth type who brings gravitas and pathos to every part. He scrungles gorgeously.

He was the first male actor to win the Triple Crown (Oscar, Emmy, and Tony). His Oscar win was for his exceptionally scrungly performance in Stagecoach (1939) clip linked.

Basically, even the Academy agreed this man was scrungly and decided to give him an award for it!

Harpo Marx:

He's like if a clown was a hobo was also somehow a classically trained harpist, his face is always in some kind of contorted silly shape, feral curly haired ninnymuggins always doing weird things to people

Harpo is mute in all of the Marx Bros movies and so his body language and facial expressions are SO over the top but he's also got fewer braincells than a goldfish while often being the emotional heart of the Marx Bros and he's just A Guy!!

Every scene with Harpo Marx is a treat! Just like watching a seagull steal a stranger's hotdog at the beach, it is a joy to watch him frustrate the hell out of all the other films' characters! Harpo Marx is the zenith of unhinged in all of his appearances, making any other funny man a straight man by comparison. (A fantastic feat considering he starred in films with his brothers Grouch and Harpo, who sported a shoe polish mustache and questionable Italian accent, respectively). The scrungliness of the little guys he plays come from his guileless, wide-eyed expression, curly blond wig, and the extreme ability to annoy others, despite never saying a word. Is he malicious? Most definitely, but hard to tell because he has a dopey grin on his face most of the time. Communicating through other sounds like honking horns and whistling, he is a force of chaos in every Marx brothers film! Also an accomplished harp player, the beautiful calm moments where Harpo plays juxtapose the zany, making him all the more scrungly. His visual style of comedy is timeless; Duck Soup had me rolling with laughter as a six year old and is still just as funny today.

In my opinion Harpo is the funniest of the Marx brothers because he is so good at slapstick comedy. Since he never speaks in his film appearances his performances are very physical, which contributes a lot to his scrungliness. He was fully committed to being wacky at all times. All of his hilarity is based on him being weird.

He's just a weird little guy who causes chaos everywhere he goes, and then sits down and plays a beautiful harp solo! He steals the show from his very chatty brothers without saying a word, and was surprisingly ripped under that old raincoat

All of the Marx Brothers are Scrungly to a degree, but Harpo is the scrungliest! His outfits are so big he gets lost in them, his pockets are full of everything, and because he never speaks, he always uses physical comedy. Also he's an incredible musician.

[whysoblue2]

Alright here is a bunch of info for Webber that you could use and might be a bit rambley and don't worry this isn't meant to be a 3-course dinner at a 5 star restaurant where you have to eat everything, this is meant to be a buffet table at a mid-to-low quality Chinese restaurant you can take what you want and ignore what you don't

Overview

Webber is a boy I would put his pronouns here but they're mildly complicated Webber uses I/My/Me as well as We/Us/Our when describing himself this is due to the fact his character is "Two minds One body" but other than that there's nothing outright proving or disproving that He/Him is right or wrong so I am just gonna be using that

Backstory

Webber is a human boy who was raised on a farm with his mom and (probably) scientist dad, one day his dad was given a gift from one of his friends that demanded all of his attention and this annoyed Webber who was pretty fond of his dad. so to get back at him and to get his attention back he went into his dad's study and pushed it over to break it. Turns out there was spider from the constant inside it and it immediately tried to eat Webber it failed to do so and they became one turning Webber into a spider boy and earning him the nickname "The Indigestible" when Webber's parents got up to hear what broke they only saw a monster and immediately threw it outside leaving Webber with the want to fix the mistake he caused which led to him ending up in the constant.

The Constant

Yeah I'm going say everything relevant to Webber sorry about that

The Constant is a place that sucks to be in. Time seems to be in a constant state of indifference with faster day and night cycles creatures that spawn out of nowhere to keep the victim from being complacent with the seasons being actively hostile with Summer literally burning trees, Winter being unbearably cold, Spring raining frogs (that also want to kill you), And Fall being pretty fine (there had to be a tutorial season).

Most of the wildlife in The Constant do not like the player. There is a easily countable number of friendly wildlife, many more that are neutral, with the majority being downright hostile with most of the creatures you have to fight just to stay alive being downright inedible.

Benefits Webber Has

There's a few things that Webber has going for him

1. He is part spider so the spider species that would usually be hostile to him is now neutral and can be turned into friends and fight alongside him

2. He is part spider so he is able to eat the usually inedible monster meat (could be translated to follower meat)

3. He is part spider so he makes spider silk he grows it as a beard it usually takes 9 days to get to it's max size (but there is the weird time stuff in The Constant)

4. He has slightly higher than average health (normal health is 150 Webber has 175)

Cons Webber Has

1. He is part spider so any neutral creatures that hate spiders also hate him this the 3 different races the Pigs the Bunnymen and the Catcoon with the pigs and the Bunnymen being roughly the size of the usual big and dumb evil henchmen and the catcoon being a raccoon but with cat tendencies

2. He has a lower than most sanity and is easier to start suffering from low sanity

Random facts about Webber

1. Webber doesn't have a listed age but using his (canon confirmed) friend his age would be around 8-10 years old

2. Webber says his spider side is better

3. Webber's dad is a scientist but also worked on a farm and kept goats as well as grew crops and he taught Webber to care for both of those

4. Webber's grandfather taught him how to play chess and was probably Scottish or at the very least British

5. Webber genuinely has 2 souls in him

6. His birthday is April 30th

7. Webber can talk normally if you wanna make him mute that's your choice

Alright that is all the info that I thought could be relevant that I could explain but there is more if you want to find it in the wiki the official unofficial wiki is dontstarve.wiki.gg

Here is the last 2 things I'll talk about before stopping the first is 2 items from dont starve together and the last is a head cannon I got from reading the wiki page

First is the Telltale Heart and the Booster Shot

the Telltale Heart is an item you can easily craft in don't starve together that can be crafted with 3 cut grass a spider gland (the low tech option for healing due to the glands poison being used to burn away any infection) and 40 health (which assuming 3 hearts is equivalent to 150 health points means it would take like a single point and a half out of a heart) so you could then use it on a ghost to revive the player back to life with the only downsides being that their health is to 50 (which once again using the same metric as before sets the health to 1 full heart) they become mildly hungry and setting their sanity to half and losing 25% of their max (same as before means that they lose a half a heart) with the only thing they can do to bring that back is to use the Booster Shot. The way you can create that is with 8 rotten food 2 pieces of nitre (no equivalent in cotl but can be said to be random useless rocks found in the quarry) and a bee stinger with a bit of advance science (that Webber knows how to make cause his dad made it back then) and you can restore 25% of their max health (half a heart)

And finally a headcannon I got about Webber

So basically the main way you get Webber in DT is the same as COTL where you bury his skull he pulls himself out the ground and now he's alive again. The thing I noticed is that if this is something that Webber can just do that means he is technically sudo immortal where all you need to do is to bury his skull and he is back to being alive whether that means hes back to being a child again or to the age he died at has interesting implications for both

I don't know how to end this

Ok, this was actually very interesting! Thank you for taking the time to put this all together for me!!! Thanks to this info I popped down a couple of notes that could help me insert them into a possible story.

Needs a new, improved family. He could probably not like, or be intimidated by Kall for being deep into science like his father? The father that neglected him for a spider etc. *says in cinemasins voice*: Kids. Speaks with himself because of his two souls problem (that in Cotl could be translated into a 2 personality issue). Shamura and Sozo can help with that. Then we lock up him and Sozo in a room and it becomes a dinner party with all those personalities. It would be hilarious if Sozo and Spider-Webber bonded. Probably is seen eating some nasty things, something the cult might frown upon, except Heket. The suckers don't know what it means to starve. So she might teach him how to feed properly with the time and care of the big sister she is. He plays knucklebones (instead of chess). Ratau, sorry. I am still unsure how to fit the whole skull in the ground thing, but yeah the more I think about it, the less I see him as a narilamb adoption. Thanks so much again!💙

[annunen]

NHLWAM S12 E7: Niko Mikkola & Eetu Luostarinen

I translated the highlights of the video for any florida finns fans to enjoy.

TLDR: the finns love chirping each other and Lundy needs a babysitter.

Manninen and Putkonen are the NHLWAM hosts.

Under the cut <3

Manninen: We've got two Finnish Fort Lauderdale locals here. Niko Mikkola, new guy, and Eetu Luostarinen, who's already one of the vets. So what's up?

Mikkola: Nothing bad, getting to know new places and the sun shines. Great people here.

Luostarinen: It's always fun to get more finns here. Always welcome.

Manninen: Niko, how would you describe Eetu as a person and a teammate?

Mikkola: He's a chill Oulu guy. Chill company, easy to hang out with him, he gets along with everyone. Really nice.

Manninen: Do you agree?

Luostarinen: Sure, i'll take what i'm given.

Manninen: Counterquestion for you.

Luostarinen: We've known each other pretty long. He's one of those Savo guys, a little twisted like they all are. But there's only great guys here, like i said, so it's been easy to come here.

Manninen: You got pretty lucky, your training center moved from the middle of nowhere (lit. horse ass) to the neighbor. You could bike there, have you ever done that?

Mikkola: I don't have a bike but i've been planning to buy one. It's 5 minutes away so it would be pretty nice to bike there.

Manninen: Or an electric scooter! Has anyone ever come with one?

Mikkola: No, but Kaapo Kakko always used one in NYC. I'd walk and he'd drive past me.

Luostarinen: I haven't biked there either but some guys have electric bikes. And golf carts, pretty cool that you can come to the rink with a golf cart.

Manninen: Now that's style!

-----

Manninen: I asked "Lunkka" Lundell this same question, now i want to ask you Eetu too. Looking at your points, this season hasn't been as good as the last. The big crowds only look at points, they're thinking "what's up with Eetu, he hasn't scored points". So what do YOU think, has this season actually been worse than the last, or have you actually gone forward as a player?

Luostarinen: I wouldn't say it's been worse than last season, pretty equal. Just haven't had those successes. There's also a lot happening in the background, in the game. I play a lot shorthanded too, i've got to take credit for that. If i can't get confidence from points, i have to find it somewhere else in the small things.

Manninen: Are the points so important? I don't remember if you lead the league right now, but as a team you're playing really well.

Luostarinen: It's a team game, if your team is doing well, you're doing something right, and you have to be happy about that. But if i have less points than Mikkola, that's when i should be worried.

Mikkola: Why am I suddenly being attacked?

Putkonen: God damn, throwing you under the boat, right there under that Catamaran.

Manninen: What about you Niko, do you ever set - even though you're known as a defensive brush, let's not say broom (that's Hakanpää's "nickname") - do you set some personal goals for points when starting the season?

Mikkola: Defensive brush, i'll take that. Good name. I don't really set any goals for points. The beginning of the season was pretty wild for me, but now i've returned to a normal phase. Probably getting close to 30 straight pointless games now.

Luostarinen: Yeah, early in the season they were throwing the nickname "Niko Norris" around there.

Putkola: You were on a phase for 80 points.

Mikkola: It was crazy, but now we're back to the roots. You can't only get confidence from points. You need some guys who play shorthanded, keep the own net clear. Take some confidence from those.

-----

(Someone walks by with a dog.)

Putkonen: Cool dog. How's your dog doing?

Luostarinen: Yeah, we have a new one in the family - cavapoo, it's a cavalier poodle mix. And then we have Rose, she's a little over 4 years old now.

Putkonen: Who in your team would you not let dogsit your dogs?

Luostarinen: Lunkka. Even if we speak the same language, i wouldn't trust him with them.

Manninen: Is Lunkka your team's little rascal?

Luostarinen: He is, a little. You need to watch what he's doing sometimes.

Mikkola: But he's so young still.

Manninen: You're allowed to be careless when you're young. We've been careless too.

Putkonen: ...older too.

-----

Putkonen: Roberto Luongo was in the net at your practice. He still catches pretty well.

Mikkola: Yeah. I've said that he'd only need one training camp and he could play an NHL game again. I can't score on him either.

Luostarinen: Best possible EBUG.

-----

Putkonen: Let's take some fan questions. Does Sasha "whip" (reprimand) you?

Luostarinen: No, just constructive criticism.

Mikkola: He's flicked me a couple times with a video where I ice the puck or something. More as a joke. He doesn't really "whip" (reprimand) me.

Manninen: But he gives that to Lunkka!

Mikkola: Lunkka is "in his teeth" a little. In a good way.

Putkonen: Yeah, he was already the last time we visited. Gave him an earful from some celly, telling him "don't jump to the glass, only juniors celly like that".

-----

[tumbleaboutit]

This calls for a read more.

I'm currently part of a LARP, though admittedly it's more "tabletop with costumes" due to space limitations.

…oh gosh, it was fifteen fuckin' years ago now. I had just graduated and was hanging with some friends I'd met through online gaming, and they asked if I was interested in trying out tabletop. I'd been eyeballing a book that said "werewolf" on it because I thought werewolves were cool, and the rest is history.

Mash-up: We're using "Ghost Council" and "Gale Stalkers" because those are more appropriate names, but we still have the Get of Fenris and Crinos-born Garou because throwing those out with the bathwater was short-sighted. Also we made "redeemed" versions of the Mockery Breeds; they are absolutely playable and I've got write-ups for anyone who wants them. Oh, and were-elephants. We made a whole damn splat book for were-elephants as a birthday present for someone who really likes elephants. They are also completely playable.

I don't really have a favorite. So far, I've played a Child of Gaia, a Silent Strider, a Bone Gnawer, a Shadow Lord, and am currently playing a Silver Fang. I've enjoyed all of them for different reasons, and I'm looking forward to getting to the others.

I don't have a least favorite, but someone saying that the Get of Fenris is their favorite tribe usually makes me wary of them until they elaborate as to why. You gotta find the Get players who want to fight the bad Get players.

I tend to create characters collaboratively with another person, so I don't currently have any concepts in the pipe. But I do want to get around to playing all of the auspices (only Galliard left!) and all of the Tribes.

"Divide" is currently at the top of my list due to my Shadow Lord having used it as the (absolutely brutal) capstone of her Revenge Quest. If you're gonna fuck with a Shadow Lord, maybe don't pick the Lost Cub who weighed all her options and became a Shadow Lord on purpose.

Rite of Contrition, because it's always fun to see what item a character brings as an apology present, what that item says about them, and how the character they're apologizing to reacts.

Much like I don't have a favorite Tribe, I don't have a favorite Patron spirit either.

Bloody Bandages, due to the absolutely hilarious "leech dance" chiminage that my friend came up with: basically hopping around, legs together and arms flat at your sides, and then leaning toward people and making a slurping noise. You must perform it with a large group of people nearby so that you have many opportunities to slurp.

Most of the Frenzies I've had or seen have gone fairly well due to the presence of other Garou dog-piling the Frenzying one before they can do too much damage. But a Fostern Philodox player character did get killed by a Ahroun Cub in a Frenzy one time because they were alone together.

I'm pretty much just in it for the games!

Shadow Lord endears herself to Gale Stalker against his will and his better judgment. He is grumpy about it even after he dies.

Six official characters across games, plus various temps and NPCs as needed. Special shout-outs to NPCs "grumpy-ass gila monster Mokolé who beat up biker and stole his jacket", and the two Get of Fenris high school jocks who formed a pack under Goat as a Norse myth in-joke.

My first character was Emily Chews-on-Silver, a Child of Gaia Philodox, who grew up in the circus and shared her First Change with the lion Bastet that she performed with after they were attacked by Black Spirals. She was extremely shy and retiring outside of the ring, and the pack they were in kept getting swept up in these Grand Adventures that meant that the spirits kept promoting her in rank without her actually understanding much about what being a Philodox meant.

All of my characters eventually end up being growth characters in one way or another. But I get a lot of joy out of Stacia, my Mean Girl Shadow Lord Ragabash, because I have successfully made other people like her as much as I do.

Stacia I've played long enough to officially get her to her early twenties, so she's technically the oldest. Genie is the youngest, both because she's my newest character and also because she's lupus-born and hasn't even hit double-digits yet. They'd get along okay as long as they don't have to work too closely together; and they'd bond over their mutual addiction to Starbucks (caffeine and sugar for Stacia, Pup Cups for Genie).

Emily taught me that playing the "Shy" flaw when you already have IRL social anxiety isn't that much fun. I'm sure we share unofficial flaws/traits, but it's hard to put my finger on them from the inside.

Alice-in-the-Mirrors, whose Slip Sideways flaw was so bad that it would yeet her into the Deep Umbra, was meant to be an easy character that I could play whenever I managed to make the four-hour trip to game from graduate school. Ha. Hahahahaha. She turned into a personal growth character pretty fast.

Oh…no thank you. I don't want to be in the World of Darkness, and I have a very different skillset than any of my characters. If I absolutely had to, probably Alice.

Stacia, definitely. She'd be able to maintain my life instead of absolutely blowing it up.

Doc (short for "Document") didn't get much play and the game she was in didn't last very long. She's being recycled for parts and lives on in Genie (generally even-tempered Lupus born and raised in a wolf sanctuary).

I like to build characters collaboratively with a friend or two, WtA is great for that because you need a solid reason to not have a pack at least in the works.

Wyrm; the idea of "everything stays the same forever" is a fuckin' nightmare.

Luna; you don't get into werewolves without having a lot of feelings about the moon.

Older Brother; I'm an information professional IRL!

Shadow Lords, if only for the True Breed requirements of the Silver Fangs.

Wisdom keeps you alive long enough to get the other two.

Changing Breeds; I'm completely happy to keep playing werewolves and let other people have fun with the Fera. (Though I do have a concept for a redeemed Cockroach shifter…)

Hispo. I wanna be a wolf the size of a pony!

I'm skipping the bonus questions because I know a lot of people it would be fun to play with. As long as I have a good group, I know I'm going to have a good time.

WTA ASKS: ABOUT THE PLAYER EDITION

Inspired by (and drawing heavily from, with permission) @diableriedoll's vtm player asks!!! Werewolf divider by @strangergraphics :)

We all know everyone's characters, but what do we know about the player behind the Garou? Let's find out!

1.Are you a WtA player, storyteller, both or neither? If neither, how do you get your WtA fix? 2. How and when did you get into WtA? 3. Which edition do you play/ prefer? 4. What's your favorite tribe? Why? 5. What's your least favorite tribe? Why? 6. Which tribe/auspice haven't you played/ developed but would love to try? 7. What is your favorite Gift? Why? 8. What is your favorite Rite? Why? 9. What's your favorite patron spirit? Why? 10. What's your favorite Talisman or Talen? Why? 11. Describe your worst Brutal Result and/ or Frenzy that you've played/ seen/ suffered 12. What's your favorite piece of WtA Media? eg. Games, books- pick your fancy! 13. What's been your favorite interaction throughout your WtA experiences? Can be in game, playing video games.. anything.

You and Your Characters

14. How many characters do you have? 15. Who was your first Character? 16. Do you have a comfort character? What makes them special to you? 17. Who is the (in character) oldest and the (in character) youngest? Would they like each other? 18. Do any of your characters have a trait or flaw of your own? If so, what is it? 19. Do you have a character that was created from a dumb/ silly idea but now you can't imagine not having them? 20. You suddenly switch places with one of your characters, which one would you prefer to be? 21. One of your characters takes your place, which one would you prefer to control of your life? 22. Which character is least spoken about? Speak about them now! 23. Is there something specific that influences you for your character creations?

This or That

24. Weaver or Wyrm? 25. Luna or Helios? 26. Older Brother or Younger Brother? Middle Brother? 27. Silver Fang or Shadow Lords?  28. Glory, Honor, or Wisdom?  29. Changing Breeds or Mockery Breeds?  30. Hispo or Glabro?

BONUS QUESTIONS! You have been given a chance to play your perfect Chronicle, let's build it!  31. Who is your Storyteller? 32. Where and when is it set? 33. What is your Auspice? 34. What tribe do you join? 35. Your pack is yourself plus four other players. Who are they? (Can be anyone!). Anyone else you'd want to add to your sept?