#but yeah i hope you enjoy this
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stump-not-found · 2 months ago
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A Lifetime Served in a Little Cup
pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4
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bill, babygirl, the red flags get outta there
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buggachat · 1 year ago
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something so fucked up about Chat Noir’s whole deal is that he is in a lot of ways Adrien playing a character. Like Adrien picked up his miraculous and was told he’d be a superhero so he was like “ok, time to act like a superhero!” and he lets himself have fun w it and play up the role and let loose and kind of just allow himself to be silly and goofy and have fun and for once in his life not care about performing Perfection™.
But. But none of the other characters KNOW THAT. So everyone just sees Chat Noir and is like “look at this guy’s ego. He’s so full of himself. Surely it’d be fair to knock him down a few pegs” without being aware of how few pegs he actually HAS. He’s like the “insecure character who overcompensates in ego” trope except he’s really not doing it unironically, he’s just having a fun LARP pretending to have self worth in his off-hours but nobody else is on the same page about it being a game and he refuses to tell them. He just dramatically pouts about it and lets them laugh and pretends like he’s not internalizing it and it is almost 3 am and my brain forced me to write this instead of sleeping I’m gonna take a melatonin
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maroisedot · 3 months ago
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tehee~
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haveihitanerve · 2 months ago
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Dad How Do I but with Bruce Wayne.
Bruce who teaches life advice- showing kids how to tie a tie, how to tie their shoes, braid their hair, teaching young adults to do taxes, to surf, the best lawyers to hire when in trouble, how to avoid scams, he educates the less fortunate on the best places to get free food, where to go in Wayne Enterprises for a hot shower and some toiletries, how to eat at formal functions so the higher elite have one less thing to criticize them on. He teaches people how to do card tricks and make your niece laugh by pulling out a quarter from behind her ear, teaches moms how to rock their baby to sleep properly, teaches teens to do front flips and cartwheels and calculus, educates them on how to write job applications and two weeks notice letters. He teaches people to sew, to cook(alfred helps) to assemble an IKEA shelf, how to work a lawn mower, and all sorts of different things. And when his son dies… Bruce uses his account to share his grief, his story, shares everything about Jason, what a delight he was, how awesome he was, how much he loved to read and school… and then one day, he gets Batman to join a video. And the hero is stiff and everyone can see the exhaustion, the anger and sadness in his joints, his movements, radiating off him. But he sits down heavily into the chair Bruce Wayne had previously vacated… and begins to speak. He tells the story of Robin, his young child sidekick, who just like Jason Wayne, was murdered by the Joker. He tells everyone how his little boy tried to save Jason Todd, and how they both perished in the aftermath. He tells people about his grief, his anger, and why Batman is suddenly harsher and hurts more. “Because I hurt more.” he confesses quietly, and the people finally get to meet the man behind the mask (figuratively) and truly get to see who their hero really is. The account’s popularity skyrockets, and soon Batman is a lot more common to be seen, teaching people how to defend themselves and handle the Batarangs he knows they collect after he fights. Nightwing shows up too sometimes, teaching more elegant flips and tricks and they demonstrate their workout together, and a few months later, Batman shyly introduces his new Robin, same messy black hair as the one before, but slightly smaller, and theres something… more behind those lenses in his mask. But the kid is soon a fan favorite, making sarcastic comments and countering Nightwings witty remarks, and the people get to see a new side of Batman, get to watch as he rolls his eyes at them, as he uses them to teach people how to disguise themselves, ways to use clothes to stem blood, tie tourniquets. 
Then Red Hood returns. And a kid in Crime Alley catches him cursing at his jacket because a button fell off and he cant get it back on. “Um! Mr. Red Hood sir?” the kid pipes anxiously. Red Hood turns to him, angry, but the kid doesn't back down and just goes “You should watch ‘Mr. Wayne How Do I: Sewing’ it'll help.” and then he scampers off. And Jason is pissed and even more angry because of course while he was dead Bruce decides to become a father to everyone in Gotham. But he watches the video. And it helps. And… well, its one of the older videos. And Jason finds another old video. The one about… the one about his death. It shouldn't make his anger lessen, shouldn't make him cry, shouldn't bring him to Bruce’s doorstep where he reveals himself and they hug and cry and catch up and cry some more… but it does. 
Gothamites are a little surprised when their local Crime Lord appears on the channel, standing right next to Batman. Surprised, but pleased. Because Batman looks happy in a way he hasn't in a long time and well… Red Hood watched out for them too. And now their two protectors are working together.
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nekrosmos · 25 days ago
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May I offer you some NikPrice doodles in these trying times
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rayjeff · 10 months ago
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silly doodle guys
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verflares · 5 months ago
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collection of some loz origin au stuff i've been chipping away at for awhile now ^_^ with a healthy amount of dunmeshi insp for good measure LOL (the ooccoo isnt relevant she's just here for size comparison purposes)
feat my beloved good friend @linkvcr's hylia design also. because i am obsessed with her and you should be too 🫵
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jensthwa · 30 days ago
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woo's prelude: a clown's remedy to heal a broken heart (JWY x reader).
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part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.
SUMMARY:
A drunk and kind of akward conversation inside of a closet is the start of Wooyoung's journey into healing his broken heart. Only he doesn't really know the name of the Scarlet Witch that helped mend a heart that wasn't supposed to break anymore, even if she starts plaguing his thoughts and dreams after that.
PAIRING: wooyoung x fem!reader.
GENRE: halloween hookup to [redacted] (we'll get to that when we need to).
WORD COUNT: 11.9k
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, drinking and drunk behavior, mature language, insults, woo getting his heart broken by his ex girfriend even though they're friends and they haven't been romantically involved in YEARS my god he's a dummy, reader getting her heart broken too, some self worth issues, frat bros being stupid and getting drinks throw at them for stepping over the line, howl!wooyoung (not for people with weak hearts and strong imaginations), making out, biting, description of female anatomy, sweet dirty talk and praising , fingering, semi-public (they're at a party, does that count?) and protected sex (wrap it up please), switching them positions for him, masturbation, hook up talk and the start of something new that we won't see for now but soon!
NOTES: hi everyone! decided to do a halloween drop on halloween day because spooky season is not over until i get this story out of my system it seems! this story is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE but can be read as a stand alone finally yay! THIS A PRELUDE TO WOO'S STORY, a little taste of what's to come for him and his boo (see what i did there?). this took place BEFORE we can't be friends (san's story) and will be placed accordingly on the masterlist to clear any future confusion. there's mentions of the characters that show up in wcbf so if u want to better understand the dynamics, you can read that but it's def not needed!
this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: october 31st 2024 at midnight!
masterlist
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There's a particular way one too many tequilas can make a room spin that Wooyoung absolutely adores. 
When it happens, he lets himself catch the world swirling around him before closing his eyes and praying for a little bit of lucidity to come to him so he can get his drunk ass home safely. 
As he opens his eyes, his face scrunches at what he sees: San, dressed as Gomez Addams, waving a hand in front of him. It takes him a little to remember where he is. 
It's a bit extra confusing with all the costumes and strangers and the music blasting through the speakers but when it finally clicks, he's grateful that he's not completely gone yet. 
“Are you good?” He can faintly hear San ask over the music, San’s girlfriend by his side dressed as Morticia, eyeing him with a quirked brow. 
Why is San with her? He will never, ever get it. 
Kyungmi is not really right for him. It's been a few months already since they made it official and Wooyoung can just tell. He always tells. He's not as oblivious as everyone paints him to be. 
There's one girl who's right for San but, in all honesty, Wooyoung is too tired to fight him on it. 
San always shoots back with a comment about him and Gyuri, his ex girlfriend (now best friend) and it always brings his mood down for some stupid reason. 
He's oblivious to why that happens. By choice, of course, but oblivious nonetheless. 
He prefers it that way. 
Wooyoung would nod, but he knows it's dangerous to do so “Just peachy.” 
“Why don't you—” San starts but he interrupts. 
“Some air and water,” he smiles, taking the water bottle from his friend’s hand “Waaaay ahead of you, babe.” 
Kyungmi rolls her eyes “Quit calling my boyfriend babe, dude.” 
San laughs, Kyungmi does not. 
“Don’t be jealous because he loves me more than you,” sticking his tongue out, he stumbles his way around them both “I'll be back.” 
He focuses on putting one foot in front of the other until he reaches a very big window. It's larger than usual. 
Oh. 
It has a door. A door that slides! 
It's a balcony. Amazing, just what he needs: To be a safety hazard and a possible traumatic experience for everyone at the party. 
He should probably turn back around before he's accidentally leaping over the edge but then he sees it. 
He sees her.
Corpse bride. Her blue makeup being wiped off by somebody's tongue in a secluded corner of the backyard of this stupid frat house the friend group ended up for the night. 
Gyuri is kissing someone. 
His chest tightens, his mouth drops slightly and his heart thumps hard enough for him to feel it on his throat. 
Why is she doing that? 
She's wearing matching costumes with him. She carefully picked them out, she ordered everything a month and a half ago and now she's kissing some… Some… Attempt at a Superman costume. 
Which is pretty fucking hilarious because how do you fuck up a Superman costume? 
But Wooyoung is not laughing. He's hurting, he's fucking pissed and, at the same time, he can't pull his eyes away from her. From them. 
Is feeling this pathetic something that would fit Víctor?
Vector? 
Whatever his name is? 
He's never seen the Corpse Bride, so he doesn't remember the name of the dude he's dressed up as. He just knows he wants to wipe the pale complexion Gyuri painted on him off. 
Off. Off. Off. Out. He needs to leave. 
But he ends up going back inside and downing another shot before he can really think about it, giggling to San and pretending nothing happened because who the fuck is he to Gyuri to get upset over it? 
Her ex, sure. But that happened a long time ago, so it doesn't count anymore. 
So it doesn't really matter. Nothing really matters when he finds Yeosang (dressed as the Phantom of the Opera) and drags him to the dance floor for what it feels like forever.
And then, one thing leads to the other and he's sitting on the floor, in a circle of people he doesn't even know, playing spin the bottle. 
Or is it seven minutes in heaven? A vampire and a fairy kissed in front of him half a second ago, but Zuko and the creepy doll from that one netflix show got up and into a closet like… six minutes ago. 
He didn't really pay attention to the rules. 
Oh, well, he's about to find out anyway! 
Fingers grasping the soju bottle in the middle of the circle, he carefully inspects the faces of everyone sitting there, expectantly looking at him. 
His vision is a little blurry but he wants to pick whoever strokes his fancy the most to try and get rid of the funny feeling he gets when he sees Gyuri walk right in front of him and head for the drink table. 
He decides quickly that, as long as it makes him forget the image of that dude's tongue down the mouth of the love of his life, he's good. 
So he spins the bottle. It spins and it spins and it spins and everyone leans forward in anticipation until it stops in front of someone. 
There's someone on his left that audibly gasps and Wooyoung looks at them before his eyes focus on the person he has to… Kiss? Get in a closet with? 
What does he need to do? 
“You can skip her if you like,” some dude with red paint dripping down his forehead and cargo shorts tells him. He's not even sitting down in the circle but lying on the couch closest to it “She's in a bad mood.” 
That’s when the Scarlet Witch that the bottle landed on rolls her eyes and gets up. 
Wooyoung thinks he's about to lose his turn and wait for the next round or until the bottle lands on him when she offers him her gloved up hand. 
He gets up. He's a little bit more sober now, alert as he plants his feet on the carpet again just to not make a fool of himself, throwing a glance at Gyuri just to find out she's not actually looking at him at all.
The pang on his chest comes back. 
“Don't throw a drink on him just for trying to kiss you too, sweetheart, that's what the game is all about,” the same dude from before tells her as they both pass by the couch and head for the space Zuko and the doll who, he assumes, just got done with their seven minutes was occupying “Don’t say I didn't warn ya, Wooyoung!” 
Who is this obnoxious motherfucker and why does he know his name? 
It takes two and a half hazy steps until the darkness of the small space engulfs him and Scarlet Witch. 
It's one of those long closets with narrow walls that leave absolutely no space to move around when you actually need to put something away, but it's a perfect nook to make out. 
He would know, he's been in this situation many times. 
He lets go of the stranger's hand, only because she turns away from him and then she huffs once the door closes. Wooyoung hears a thump against the wood of it, so he assumes she hit it with her fist or her boot. 
“Fucking asshole.” She mutters under her breath but he hears it. 
It dawns on him that the reason he sat down to potentially kiss strangers that night was to be seen. 
Wooyoung wanted people to see him so they knew he was completely fine and, as soon as Gyuri walked into the room, his motivation was for her to see him doing completely fine. 
Cool. He's cool. He's one of the actual cool guys at the university, he's been told so before. 
He also wanted her to feel a little bit jealous but now, eyes closed for a few seconds to try and regain composure after whatever just happened, he realizes that she probably wouldn't even care.
So this whole thing is useless anyway. Only now he gets to meet (kiss?) someone dressed as one of his favorite characters of the decade. 
There, as his eyes adjust to the minimum light that's filtering under the door, he realizes his mistake: he said nothing to defend her. 
In his defense, his drunk brain processes the information a little too late. And, in her defense, Scarlet Witch seemed like she didn't really care what the asshole said in the first place. 
Now he notices that's not true. 
It's hard to make out her figure but he hears another soft thump and when he turns his head to the right angle, he's able to make out that she just leaned against the door. 
He opens his mouth to apologize, he thinks, but she beats him to it. 
“We don't have to kiss or… fuck or whatever people do with their seven minutes.”
“Wow,” he laughs, his back finding a wall and almost knocking something placed on a tiny shelf next to his arm “I promise I wasn't expecting you to—” 
“Yeah, yeah, save it,” she lets out a breath. “If you want to tell them that we kissed, that's fine by me. I know how your frat bros behave when you don't do what you're supposed to.”
“They're not my frat bros. In fact, they are not even my bros,” he frowns, and slides against the wall because his legs are threatening to give in. He's suddenly very, very exhausted “I don't know them.” 
“Isn’t your name Wooyoung?” 
“Y-yes?” 
“Then you know them,” she shoots back, matter-of-factly “And I'm not interested in kissing any of your kind tonight.” 
“My kind?” 
“Men,” she clarifies and Wooyoung can feel her smile in her next words “Although frat bros are a different kind of species altogether.” 
“I'm not a frat bro!” 
It takes a second and his honest frustration but she laughs “Sure.” 
In the dark, with his ego bruised and his heart crushed, Wooyoung thinks it's a pretty laugh. 
He thinks it's even prettier when he hears a little ruffling and then her body heat invades his space, kind of. She just sat beside him, thigh against his and perfume reaching his nostrils. It's a mix of something sweet and something citrusy. 
It's really nice.
He gulps before asking “W-what was that about?” and then points to the door like she can see him. 
“He's in one of my classes. He thought he could kiss me and when I said no, because fucking look at the state of him, he tried to kiss me anyway,” she says all chirpy but Wooyoung picks up on the sarcastic tone and let's out a soft ew at the story “I preventively threw my drink on him because I got a little freaked out and now I'm sober and pissed off. I think he's a little upset about me thinking he was about to take advantage of me.” 
He grimaces “You can't never be too sure, though.” 
She hums and then sighs a: “I know.” 
“I don't even know his name but he does sound like a fucking asshole.” 
“Why does he know you?” 
Wooyoung shrugs and he's a little glad it's dark. He's not exactly smiling, his playful nature not coming out at the moment. “I'm a pretty popular guy.” 
“I don't know you.” 
“Well, I don't know you either, so we're even,” he shrugs again and it's kind of hypocritical because, to be fair, he didn't get a good look at her face at all “I just know you s-smell nice.” He murmurs, tripping on his words like a babbling drunk idiot. 
Maybe because that's what he is right now.
“Thanks… I guess.” She sounds weirded out by that but he's not sober enough to care. 
“You're so welcome.” 
There's silence in which Wooyoung does nothing but try to find her in the dark. He eventually does, given the fact that the light from under the door casts a little on her face now that she's sitting down.
He doesn't recognize her, which is odd. Wooyoung knows almost everyone. At least her voice would ring a bell but there's absolutely no frivolous memories with this girl and he kind of likes it that way. 
If she doesn't know him, she doesn't know about Gyuri. That's a plus because there's no reason for her to be walking on eggshells around him like every other student at the university who finds him attractive. 
There's another beat of silence between them both, music blasting outside and making the floor slightly thrum underneath him. 
He's not usually this quiet. When he doesn't feel like crying, he's usually very annoyingly outspoken. Mind glowing in red alert, he practically stumbles his words out to fix that. 
“I like your costume.” 
“You do? People didn't get it.” 
“That's because they care more about Captain America than Wanda Maximoff,” he scoffs. “It’s the Multiverse of Madness one, hm?” 
“Wandavision post-credit scene,” she whispers back and Wooyoung nods, encouraging her to go on even if she can't see him. He thinks she's about to maybe rant about the show or the character or the party or anything that can help him forget, but she does the opposite “I, uhm… Also like your costume.” 
There's a tint of shyness in her voice, like she's not used to being nice. 
“Victor, right?”
“I've never seen the movie.” He makes sure to clarify before she asks him about it. 
“You don't really have to see the movie to know the character, Wooyoung,” he feels when her head hits the wall slightly, on purpose maybe “I don't like him anyway.” 
“Then why did you say you liked my costume?” 
“I lied. It's called trying to keep the conversation going,” her explanation makes no sense to him in that state of inebriation, but he lets it go “I don't exactly know what to talk about when I drag someone into a closet.” 
Wooyoung pauses and then laughs to himself “We were not exactly supposed to talk in the first place. Have you never done this before?” 
“No. I don't usually go to frat parties,” she says after a second where Wooyoung was met with silence, a moment where he wondered if his question was out of line “Coming here tonight was a mistake.” 
He finds himself asking without thinking, again “Then why did you?”  
“I'm so bored.” 
That takes him by surprise. 
“Bored?” 
“Yes, I'm bored. My dorm room mattress has a hole in it because I never go out and… Well, there's a boy I liked that came here tonight, so, I came as well.” 
Liked? 
Wooyoung doesn't really ask her about it. 
Eyebrows practically touching his scalp, Wooyoung thinks for a split second she's talking about him but that's not really possible because they've never met until now, she said it herself. 
“Well did you find him?” 
She takes in a shaky breath and then lets it out. Sadness suddenly fills the constricted space and Wooyoung isn't sure if it's just him or if Scarlet Witch is going through a heartbreak as well. 
“Yeah, I did” she whispers back and doesn't elaborate, so he doesn't ask “There's a bride going around the party. I saw her, she looks really cool, maybe you could—” 
“She's my best friend,” he interrupts because the mention of Gyuri, so directly at that, has his heart racing with anxiety. So long for her not knowing about his ex girlfriend “We, uh… We dated in highschool and we stayed friends, so it's not really happening again.” 
“Oh… Do you want it to happen again?” 
“W-what?” 
“I mean,” she laughs a little awkwardly, like she's nervous “You sounded very sad when you said it, a little angry too.” 
“Did I?” 
He definitely didn't mean to sound like that at all. 
Scarlet Witch hums in agreement and he really thinks about what to answer. The short answer is a simple yes but, if he's being honest, he already knows that they're not good for each other. Not like that, anyway. 
“I don't really know what to tell you.” 
“You don't have to tell me anything,” she says right away and it calms his nerves a bit. “Just know that there's no real helping when you like someone, it doesn't matter if you thought you didn't like them anymore. It just happens. It sucks but it just happens.” 
The unsolicited advice doesn't really help him, if he's being honest. It stirs something inside him that he wants to keep hidden, concealed, so he turns the topic of conversation away from him. 
Away from Gyuri. 
“Speaking from experience?” He asks, half jokingly.
“Yeah, so I can confidently say that it fucking sucks.” 
She turns to him with a smile (he's hyper focused on her, there's no way he could've missed that) before laughing and a tiny force lifts up the corners of his lips. That's one pretty laugh.
Maybe, in an universe where was a little bit more sober, he could've actually spent these seven minutes kissing her. 
Kissing her. 
He wants to kiss her. That's going to take his mind off Gyuri, sure. 
His heart beats quicker this time, for a completely different reason. 
He leans in. 
He's going to kiss her. 
She clears her throat “Are you going to the party next saturday?” 
Huh? 
Oh. 
“Yes, I think so,” he's a little breathless and probably blushing because of what he was about to do “Why?” 
After the night he had, he thought he was going to struggle to even bring out this sort of excitement out of himself. When Scarlet Witch raises her gloved hand and brings it to the nape of his neck, he wonders if she actually has magical powers. 
It effectively distracts him, it sobers him up and makes him feel drunker at the same time. Short nails caress the skin where her fingers lay and then she grasps the strands of hair sticking out, not gelled down for the sake of his costume. 
“Is this real?” 
What does she mean? This feeling taking over his body? The heat that spreads all around? He's not sure if it is, if that's what she's asking. 
Hia mouth feels like cotton when he asks “Is what real?” 
She laughs softly again “The hair, the length.” 
Oh. 
“Yes, it is.” 
Maybe he should've taken his time in answering because, as soon as he does, her touch leaves him. 
“You should go as Howl,” she murmurs and he melts a little “It'll suit you better than a Tim Burton character, I think.” 
He laughs, it's short lived and through the cloud he feels he's on right now “You think?” 
“Yeah,” he can't see her, but he knows she's nodding “Even if you claim that you're not a frat bro. You know, the whole seducing ladies and stuff.” 
Wooyoung laughs “Howl did not seduce any ladies, it was all a rumor!” 
“He did, in the book.” 
“Oh, I don't read.” 
“See?” she clicks her tongue and then her shoulder touches his, teasingly “Total frat bro.” 
Wooyoung thinks about it again. 
Kissing her. Now out of pure want instead of selfish motivations. 
She said she didn't want to, earlier, if he recalls correctly and that's okay. 
He still wants to though, so… 
The question is on the tip of his tongue, he even thinks he makes out the start of it before it's cut off by the sound of the door opening. 
Closing his eyes at the sudden intrusion of light, it takes a few seconds for them to adjust to it and, when they do, he finally sees her face. 
He should've kissed her. 
The costume she's wearing it's cool, sure, and she's even wearing a wig that looks very expensive so he confirms the fact that she likes to dress up sometimes but that's not really what amazes him. 
Maybe it's because he sort of already formed a judgment of her character but she's beautiful and he really, really, really, should've kissed her. 
“Time's up, you're hogging the closet. Oh, and someone is looking for you,” the girl dressed up as Zuko points in his direction and then, because neither of them makes an effort to stand up, she nods and steps aside “I'll give y'all a minute.” 
Scarlet Witch laughs and Wooyoung wishes he could share the sentiment. At this point, he thought he would be done with a makeout session and in desperate need for another drink to keep the night going. 
Now, he wants nothing but take her hand in his and find a quiet spot where he can keep getting to know her. Maybe get her number. 
And he swears he's going to ask, but the universe is not in his favor. When she turns to him, he loses all ability to speak and when she leans in to peck his cheek his breath hitches and he feels like a teenager getting a crush for the first time. 
“In case you need to tell anyone I kissed you,” she whispers in secrecy, leaning back a bit “So you don't have to lie. I hate liars.” 
He gulps “Noted.” 
She doesn't even give him the opportunity to escort her out of tiny space: she gets up, bolts for the door and when Wooyoung's brain catches on to the gigantic problem of his own creation, as he gets out of the closet and looks around for her, she's already out of his sight. 
“Are you good?” 
It's the second time tonight San has asked that. It's not annoying by any means but when it comes with the concerned faces of Yeosang, Kyungmi and Gyuri he has to think his response through.
But the Scarlet Witch's words echo in his mind. 
I don't like liars. 
“No, I'm not,” he says, a little out of breath “I didn't get her name.” 
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This time, the entire crew joins him, Gyuri, Kyungmi and Yeosang to go to the party. 
He wishes his other best friend came along as well, but she's really not that fond of parties in general. 
Which sucks because she would look good in a costume and maybe that would prompt San to act on his feelings and break up with Kyungmi in the process. 
She was a pain in his ass tonight. Didn't really help his nerves at all. 
Yes, he's nervous about possibly seeing Scarlet Witch again. 
Yes, he thought about her all week and tried his best to find her on social media but couldn't. 
Yes, he's aware tonight's theme for the party is a mix of a masquerade and a normal costume party or whatever the sorority organizing it said in their invite. 
And yes, he's dressed up as Howl Pendragon, wearing a black and white mask that he borrowed from one of the girls in the group. They decorated it with little gold and pink stars and it looks cute on him but that's not the point! 
Masks complicate his quest for the night. 
He hopes that she's here tonight. He also hopes that the costume alone is enough for her to recognize him: There's a lot of people here tonight. 
Even waiting in line to pay the cover fee for the party felt stuffy. 
He turns to Gyuri and she's laughing at something her date for the night is telling her. That's right, for the first time in many, many years, Wooyoung is not her date. 
Superman is. He's dressed in the same costume he saw him in last weekend, he thinks he even sees as smudge of Gyuri’s corpse bride body paint on it. 
She's Wonder Woman for the night. So original. 
Wooyoung feels bad as soon as the bitter thoughts go through his head. He didn't even know they exchanged numbers, let alone kept chatting to coordinate their costumes for tonight's party. 
He found out when she told her that the Raven and Beast Boy costumes would have to wait until next year. 
And he, actually, was relieved that he didn't have to paint his face green for God knows how many hours just to keep losing his date in the crowd and finding her kissing someone else. 
Ugh. 
Bitter. He's as bitter and jealous as someone who has to see the love of his life not give a damn about them or their feelings can be.
But that's okay, he has other plans for the night anyway. 
As soon as they all get through security (there's security at a house party, what the hell), they all scatter to do what they do best at parties. 
Hongjoong and Seonghwa head for the drink table, Yeosang and Jongho head for a corner of the main room, San, Kyungmi, Gyuri and Superman go straight to the backyard and Mingi, his girlfriend and Yunho walk with him to the dancefloor. 
He dances with his friends, he pretends he's paying attention to their banter as his eyes scan the crowd looking for someone familiar behind a mask. 
He thinks he remembers her face very well, it stayed on his mind for a whole week but, even after dreaming about their conversation, Wooyoung is having a hard time in finding her. 
She didn't even tell him what she was going to dress up as or if she was even going to show up. 
Or did she? 
His memories are all blended together. He's going to make sure to be sober tonight, just for the sake of remembering every little detail if he does end up finding her. 
But the hours go by and he still can't find her. 
He's losing hope, he's beginning to believe she didn't even show up to the event which, hey, sucks but that means that he can finally get her out of her head. 
Sort of. 
There's a Scarlet Witch staring at him. But there's this alluring nature to his Scarlet Witch that can't be replicated, or so he thinks. 
He's about to convince himself he drunk dreamed the entire thing but then he sees him. 
The obnoxious motherfucker. Her classmate, mister can't-take-no-for-an-answer. 
In all honesty, the first thought that crosses his mind is to punch him in the face. He's still dressed up all frat bro-ish and his mask is a paper mask, completely diy-ed and with a dick drawn on the right side. 
And then he abandons the thought because, although an asshole, he can lead go finding his Scarlet Witch. 
Only issue is: Mister asshole is walking away with a girl on his arm and heading straight to a… room? bathroom? 
Stopping his movements, mid a Troye Sivan song and cutting Yunho off in whatever he's telling him, he let's out a loud “Fuck!” 
Yunho stops, Mingi and his girlfriend turn slowly to them with wide eyes and concerned expressions 
“What did you do to him?” Mingi asks Yunho and his best friend laughs nervously. 
“I didn't do anything! Did I do something?” he turns to Wooyoung “I didn't, did I?” 
“No, no. Sorry, I… I gotta go.” 
“Go where, Serena Van der Woodsen?” 
Wooyoung doesn't get the reference Mingi’s girlfriend makes but he laughs like he does “I'll be right back!” 
He's never been so determined before, moving through the crowd like his life depends on it and crashing into Batman and his Joker on the way to stop the guy who's potentially changing the course of his night. 
“Hey!” He yells behind him but the music is somehow louder on this side of the house and five people turn their heads, but not the guy pushing a Silent Hill nurse into the bathroom door to kiss her before opening it. 
Damn it. 
He runs faster and faster and he thinks he's going to miss his chance when the tip of his boot catches the door before it fully closes on his face. 
Breathing hard, his lips turn up in smirk when he catches the way the guy's face scrunches in confusion before opening the door again and looking at him.
Wooyoung takes it a step further and gets into the bathroom with them, closing the door behind him and lifting up his mask.
“What the fuck, Wooyoung?” 
“Hey, so sorry for interrupting your fifth makeout sesh for the night but I need to ask you something. Hi.” He says to the nurse and she smiles a little before turning to the Frat Bro and raising her eyebrow inquisitively. 
“And it couldn't wait?!” 
“No,” he says right away, smiling sardonically and getting straight to the point afterwards. “So, remember the Scarlet Witch that I ended up going to the closet with last week?” 
“Who?” 
Wooyoung is going to kill him.
“The girl who threw a drink on you last week for trying to kiss her even if she said no the first time you tried,” he reminds him, “Is she here?” 
“Y/N?” the name comes out in a whisper and Wooyoung sucks in a sharp breath. 
Y/N. 
It fits her. 
“Your classmate, yes.”
“Uhm, yeah, I think she's here,” he looks a little embarrassed at the recalling of the events of last week and Wooyoung wants to smile because of it, but he just looks at him with an insistent look so he can catch that he needs more than that to find her. To find you “Look, bro, I don't know where she is right now. I think she's dressed as a… Clown? A jester? Some weird, indie costume, uhm… She has a pointy black birthday hat? I don't know.” 
He's slurring his words but that's not enough for Wooyoung to feel bad for him. He, however, does not want to speak with him anymore. 
“Alright, thank you for that, I'll… Leave you to it,” he opens the door again and frat idiot scoffs, so he turns and looks directly at the Silent Hill Nurse “Please make him wear a condom.” And he can tell she's a little turned off with the whole conversation. 
So, as he closes the bathroom door and scans the crowd one more hopeful time, he counts that as a second victory. A little revenge on your name, even. 
He wanders the house, the hallways and rooms and little hideaway spots but he finds no sign of you in them so he heads for the backyard and looks up to the second floor. 
The first room is presumably empty, lights turned off and no activity in it the few seconds he observes it. 
The second room has an ambiance light turned on and he sees what looks like a Mad Hatter run across the window and then he hears something crashing, so he hopes that's not where you are. 
The third room has a balcony. It's dark, there's not one light lit in the entire room but there's neon lights in the backyard and streetlights and the moon casting perfectly on it, so he's able to see it perfectly from where he stands. 
And there, draped in some sort of vintage looking clown costume, wearing striped tights and a black and white pointy hat, mask in your hand and your forearms supporting your weight, you stare past him. 
You look sad, but it could also be the illusion the makeup you put on gives. 
He doesn't know you enough to know what your sad expression looks like and it bothers him a little. 
You also don't notice him at all, which is odd, because you're staring directly over his shoulder. You only blink fast and focus on his face once someone calls out: 
“Woo!” That's Gyuri's voice. Raising your head, you wave to him and smile a little. He smiles back. 
He has to literally force himself to peel his eyes from you and look behind him, at his best friend “Are you okay? Come hang out with us!” 
She looks so happy. A little drunk, but happy. San is also right beside her and he shoots him a knowing smirk that he ignores because he has to leave and speak to you. 
“I'm a little busy, Yuri. I'll be down in just a sec,” that's a lie but she nods happily and so he turns to you, your smile a little bigger now “Don't move.” He warns cheekily in a whisper and you seem to get it, because you smile wide, raise your arms defensively and open your, once again, gloved hands in defeat. 
He practically sprints to the second floor after that. 
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You hope Wooyoung didn't notice. 
Staring daggers at the girl he told you last time is his best friend? Yeah, that could turn into a fight really fast if he reproaches it. 
You don't remember her name but you do remember her kissing the guy you've liked since forever. She's been doing that all night tonight, too. 
It pisses you off for all the wrong reasons. Sure, she's not exactly at fault, but the human mind is horrid when it comes to mental self flagellation and you, unfortunately, are an expert at that. 
All kinds of things went through your head. The main one, a question: Why do you feel so possessive over something that clearly isn't yours? 
His heart. 
His heart it's not yours, it never was, it never will be.
It's time you come to the realization that that's okay even if it hurts you. The obsession you have over it, over what happened with the two of you it's starting to get pathetic and it makes you feel lonelier than usual.
You really hope Wooyoung didn't notice. 
As you walk to the door and unlock the room you claimed for the night (because you want to leave, but the cover was expensive and there's no way you're letting it go to waste) you let yourself detach from the emotions you've been feeling all night. 
Wooyoung doesn't need to know what's going on in your head. You have a good memory of him, you even filtered a little last weekend and you want to keep that going. 
He doesn't need to know, he doesn't need to stay in your life for too long either.
It makes you giggle when he opens the door and scans the moonlit room of this sorority house like he doesn't really believe you were there in the first place. He smiles wide when his eyes land on you, back against the wall closest to the door. 
“Hey.” You say, biting down a smile.
His chest is heaving, like he ran all the way up here and it does nothing but send nervous tingles down your spine.
He smiles beautifully, entering the room and closing the door behind him “Hi.” 
Peeling your back from the wall, you start walking around the room because that keeps your body busy and unable to embarrass you. 
“Thought I missed you completely tonight, Y/N.” 
Frowning, you give him a glance over your shoulder “You know my name.” You say, rather than ask. 
“You didn't want me to?” 
Shaking your head, there's a tiny smile that curves your lips when you turn to him. He's walking around as well, slowly, carefully, like you're about to disappear if he moves too fast. 
“I don't really enjoy mysteries that much.” 
He smiles as well “You didn't tell me your name last time.” 
“You didn't ask me,” shrugging, you take a few steps his way and scan his costume without any discretion “You see?” 
“Hm?” 
“How good you look as Howl?” tilting your head slightly, you don't miss the way his cheeks darken slightly and that makes the remains of your shyness disappear from your body. You tell yourself that you, in this room, there must be no space for it. You point at his cape “Was it hard to get this?” 
“Overnight shipping,” he whispers, taking a step in your direction “You look very cute.” 
“You think?” 
“Yeah, I really like the, uhm…” he gestures to your costume “Vintage vibe.” 
You don't have to be a genius to notice he doesn't really know what you are. “I'm a pierrot clown.” 
He scoffs “I knew that.” 
“Sure you did, buddy.” 
There's a pause and then you both laugh but it dies down quickly and there's this tension between you both you don't really know why it's there.
You two didn't exactly connect that much last time. At least, you don't think you did. He was kind of drunk and you weren't really thinking straight either. 
“Y/N…” Your name sounds good out of his lips. 
“Yes?” 
“Why did you disappear last time?” 
That makes you laugh again. You didn't exactly plan on it, you were going to wait for him outside the closet but then you saw them kissing goodbye and your heart couldn't really stand it, so you bolted. 
You walk towards one of the two beds, sitting down on it carefully, to not disturb it too much. He follows you with his eyes, his head turning slightly in order to do so.
“You mean when I left the party? I didn't disappear on you,” that's not really a lie, you convince yourself. You kind of bid your goodbye to him that night “Didn’t think you wanted me to stay, either. Did they give you too much shit?” 
“For what?” 
“I clearly didn't kiss you that night. I think it was obvious, so… Your frat bros didn't give you shit for it?” 
Closing his eyes, the smile he gives you in return for the inside joke you two have going on makes your heart flutter “Stop insisting on that, will you?” 
“You can't really fight the truth, Wooyoung.” 
“Hm,” he walks over to you again, sitting on the bed next with his thigh touching yours. Innecesarlly so, because there's plenty of space, but you enjoy the warmth it spreads around your body so you don't say anything “You did tell me you didn't like liars.” 
“Oh, you remember that?” 
“I remember everything,” he nods, “I wasn't that drunk.” 
You give him a look “Weren't you?” 
He laughs again and you follow, pushing him slightly with your shoulder like you did back in the closet as well.
You don't really know what to say anymore, so you clear your throat slightly. 
“Are you enjoying the party?” 
“Are you?”  
“What do you mean?” 
“You seemed kind of sad when I saw you, there,” he points at the balcony and that makes you sigh. He noticed, kind of. That's disappointing and impressive at the same time. “I thought it was the makeup but it doesn't really seem like it.” 
“I’m not sad,” you admit, “I'm hurt.” 
“Isn't that the same thing?” 
“Not really, no,” shaking your head, you stare out of the big panel windows into the night sky. He doesn't need to know entirely, but you can tell him something about it “Remember the guy I told you about last time?” 
“The guy you went to the party for?” 
You nod “Well, he's here tonight too. With a date this time.” 
“Oh,” when you turn, catch him licking his lips before continuing and your eyes are fixed on the motion for a second too long “And that hurts you, duh, obviously.” 
You think it's adorable he's also a little nervous but you only smile and don't give him shit for it like you would do to anyone else “When you're obsessed with the idea of someone specifically seeing you a certain way, yes, it hurts,” you shrug “I'll get over it though.” 
“I feel that,” he says and you can imagine. You sensed it in his feelings last time, you can't actually believe the coincidence and irony of it all “Did you and this guy…?” 
“We went to highschool together. He was the only person who I thought saw me for who I was, whoever that is,” there's a bitterness in the laugh you let out you don't enjoy “We kissed a few times, he told me pretty things and I feel. Totally forgot about me when he had a summer glow up before we started our first semester, though.”
“Well, he's an asshole.” 
“He's not, not really,” and you desperately need to change the topic to him, so you bump your shoulder against him one more time “Did you come with your Sophie?” you ask, pretending to not know about Wonder Woman and the fact that she's here with somebody else. 
He catches who you're talking about, though and shakes his head, giving you. tight smile. 
“No, no, uhm… She has a date.” 
You hum “Are you hurt too?” 
“I'm bitter,” he whispers back, right away “Don't know if that's the same as being hurt, but I'm bitter.”
Silence falls comfortably around the understanding in between you both. You stare at each other, lips slowly curving upwards until you end up laughing yet again at the absurdity of the situations you're both in. 
“Guess we're just… A pair of losers tonight, huh?” 
“And what a pair we make.” 
You agree. There's this electricity running through you, you even dare to say it's running through him too and it makes you slightly regret not kissing him last week. 
If you did, the desire to do so right now would be easier to come to terms with. 
Thankfully, the same thing seems to be going through his mind “I know I was drunk, but I wanted to kiss you so bad.” 
“Are you drunk now?” You ask back in a whisper. He shakes his head. 
“Don't want to ruin your pretty makeup. Besides, you said last time—” 
You lean into his space a bit. 
“That was then,” you interrupt with a tiny smile “And now is now.” 
“That's how time usually works, yes,” he laughs and you join, rolling your eyes at the bad joke. You can see the second he makes the decision, his hand hesitantly finding your cheek and, when you don't recoil at the possible contact, he leaves it there “But are you sure it's okay?” 
You know why he's asking. He doesn't want to take advantage of a vulnerable moment, neither do you.
But you want to kiss him. 
“It’s matte,” you say instead and you hope he understands the real meaning behind your answer “The lipstick, it's matte. And the base It's set with really good powder, too, because I thought…” 
You thought that somebody else was going to kiss you tonight. 
He gets it. He understands why you did it and he scoffs with mild annoyance at it, which makes you smile. 
“Y/N,” he closes the distance between you even more and your breath hitches with anticipation before he whispers: “I'm going to kiss you so good, you'll forget about his lips forever.” 
That's the best thing someone has ever said to you, ever. You shudder at the thought and just stare, eyes dropping when he leans in further and his nose bumps into yours. 
“Do you want that?” 
Sleeping with Wooyoung won’t fix your problems. It sure won’t, not yours, not his but it doesn’t need to. You don’t know what the remedy for a wounded heart is but a distraction from the hurt can’t be all that bad. 
It's still a little bit pathetic how you whimper in response to his question. 
But it gains you the prize of tasting him for the first time, his minty flavor mixing with the remnants of whatever soda you had earlier and you sigh into the encounter. He’s not as delicate as you thought he would be. 
Wooyoung kisses you hard, with want, with need, with something you recognize in yourself and give back: the need for a distraction, for a feeling other than that hurt and bitterness you two mentioned not even three minutes ago. 
You don't know what to do with your hands, where to put them, but he fixes that. He grabs them, puts them on his shoulder, scoots a bit more into you and so your chest touches his and he sighs in contentment at that. 
You feel a little bit nervous, but that’s okay. 
It’s not like you’ve never been touched, like you’ve never done this sort of thing but it is the first time you want it. You want him. 
You’re not numb this time around, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when his other hand joins and keeps you in place, pulling back a second to take in some air before going back in for another toe curling kiss. 
Mind disconnecting from the outside world, you curse the layers of clothing (and there’s a lot) in between you when his hands travel down to your waist, against your body, caressing it and then grasping it in a way you’ve never felt before. 
It’s not rushed and it doesn’t really feel like something that you both want to get out of your system even though it is. You don’t really expect Wooyoung to ask you on a date after hooking up at a sorority party, after all. 
Oh. 
The party, that’s right. Did you lock the door? No, no. He walked in and didn't, you think. 
You can’t really think straight when he’s biting your bottom lip and then licking it as an apology for his misbehaving. It draws a breathy moan out of you and he drinks it, tongue meeting yours for the first time ever as you stand up from the bed, kiss never breaking, his 
body following yours. 
You’re wearing a lace ruffle white collar that goes with your costume. It’s cute, surprisingly not itchy at all and right now it seems to be getting in his way. His fingers look for the velcro clasp and then, when he loosens it enough, he janks it off. 
Somehow, you enjoy the theatrics and you giggle as his mouth abandons yours.
“Woo…” You manage to say when his lips start to make acquaintance with your neck, over your pulse. Craning your head to the side, he moves to the skin that unveils because of it and it’s hard to think of anything but the way you start to tremble under his touch. 
Grounding yourself by sinking your fingers in his hair, you attempt to speak again but he keeps distracting you. 
“Fuck, say that again.” 
Humming, you return “Woo,” you say again, “the door…”  
He moves to the other side of your neck “What about it?” 
“It’s— Oh,” teeth sink into your skin and you moan out loud, you can practically feel his smirk on your skin after that and your face burns as a consequence. “W-we need to lock it.” 
“Afraid someone will walk in on us?” he finally pulls away enough for you to see his face. His lips are swollen and there’s a flush across his cheeks that sits beautifully there when he smiles, forehead resting against yours a second later “You don’t like that thought?” 
There’s a part of you that doesn’t think it’s proper. It’s bad enough you’re hooking up with a somewhat stranger in a room that isn’t yours, but people finding out? That should terrify you. 
But it doesn’t. He seems to read it on your delayed response and the way your eyes widen with need when he pulls away again to watch your reaction to what he said. 
“You do, don’t you?” and then you’re moving, backwards, backwards, backwards until your back hits the door and there’s this passion glistening in his eye that excites you and sends spikes down your spine and into your core “You want people to know I’m kissing you dumb, hm? You want them to see what I’m doing to you?” 
He pauses and you feel like it’s on purpose, you feel like he takes in you heaving chest and the way your eyes follow the veins down his arms when he presses his hand behind you, pushing into your space a bit more and you should feel overwhelmed like you normally do with everyone else, but you don’t. 
You want him to get even closer.
“You want them to see what you do to me?” 
His whisper shakes you, awakens something in you that you desperately want to explore. It makes you feel shy and brave at the same time and the contradiction makes you bite down a smile. 
There’s no need for you to see what you’re doing to him, you can feel it when the hand that wanders to his waist pulls him closer, forward, until his hips meet yours and his leg finds a home between yours. Grunting, he raises a brow and gives you a knowing grin, but you enjoy surprising people. 
Your black gloves contrast against his skin and the white of his shirt when you caress the arm planted next to you and he follows the motion, letting out a breath “What if I don’t?” you ask, low, like it’s a secret you don’t want anyone else to find out even if you’re alone in this room “What if I want to keep you all to myself?” Watching his expression carefully, you try to measure if you’re crossing the invisible hookup line with your words but he closes his eyes and there’s no way for you to tell, so you correct your possible mistake in a whisper “For the night. You don’t want me to be only yours tonight?” 
Something twitches against your leg and the brief tension melts from your shoulder. Damn, you’re not that mouthy during these sort of scenarios so you almost, almost fucked up, huh? 
It doesn’t really matter when his free hand brushes his knuckles against your stomach, over your clothes and the ridiculously big buttons of your costume and then leaves you to twist the lock on the door “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, by the way.” 
“I want you.” The words get out before you think it through and you don’t mind it. You value honesty, you love when your body acts before your mind has the time to make you feel ashamed of your own feelings and wants. 
It pays off because his expression morphs in pure want and his tone is a whimper when he begs you, forehead meeting yours again “Again.” 
“I want you, Woo…” You whisper against his lips and then his mouth is on yours hungrier than ever before. The wood hurts against your back but Wooyoung’s hands pull you against him to move you away from it. 
This time, your hands know exactly what to do, because you know exactly what you want. They tug at his cape, trying to find the clasp of it with desperate trembles because your heart is beating faster and faster and you’re impatient, body too impertinent and rebelling against your wishes of taking this slow and savoring every little touch.
Cape on the floor, you feel his hand trying to figure out your costume. It makes you laugh and you’re glad he returns it, looking down at it and frowning at all the fabric he finds. With your hands against his chest, you push him into the mattress and he lands gracefully on it, supporting himself with his arms “I’ll do it.”
“Baby, this is a great costume and you look so fucking cute on it but why is there so much layering?” 
The nickname is new and he doesn’t seem to catch that it slipped out of his mouth so you don’t comment on it but it sure deepens the color on your cheeks and you laugh shyly, tilting your head to side in a playful manner. 
“I told you I like dressing up.” 
“And it shows! Mine’s a little simple,” without the cape, he just looks like a dude with a loose white shirt and black trousers. A handsome dude, but just a dude nevertheless “But I wanted you to find me, so…” 
“What was the first option?” 
“Beast Boy.” 
There’s something that crosses his expression that goes away the second he sees you slowly working the buttons and the skin underneath reveal after each one. His eyes fix on it and you’re sure you look ridiculous in the makeup and the get up and all but he’s looking at you with so much need you feel sexy wearing it. 
The shirt comes off. You’re wearing a cropped top and a bra underneath and you hook your thumbs under it to make him believe you’re taking it off, but you don’t. 
“You’re killing me.” He groans out and you laugh at him, making a show of bringing your hands down your torso and into your hips. You move to take off the striped bloomers that are matching with the tights you plan on taking off next. 
Your underwear doesn’t exactly match but you weren’t really planning on any of this with anyone. You weren’t planning on going this far but you don’t really care when it’s all, eventually, it’s just going to be off, so it doesn’t really matter. 
“Want to take these off yourself or you’re going to make me do all the work?” 
Smiling, he sits straight on the bed, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his mouth he nips the satin fabric of your glove, it loosening around your index when he pulls. He must see the way it affects you immediately, the way you breath catches, because the corner of his lips lifts up before he does the same to the thumb, the middle finger, the ring and the pinky and then he pulls the glove completely off. 
You feel like you short circuit for a second, even more so when he keeps the hand close to him and starts kissing the pad of your fingers so softly it doesn’t match the hunger in his eyes at all. 
And you’re killing him? 
It happens in a flash but the other glove is off and then your tights, your top and his shirt are off and on the floor and you’re sitting on his lap, tongue parting his lips and mouth bruising against his and you feel like you’re in a small pocket in time no one can really disturb. No one can burst this bubble, this cloud you land on when he turns you around and the expensive material of the sheets touches your bare back. 
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” 
When did he take off your bra? It doesn’t matter, his lips are making their way down your throat and exploring your chest, gaining puffs of air and moans from you when he flicks your nipples with his tongue, expert and careful, measuring your reaction and doing it again when your back arches off the bed instead of verbally asking for more. 
He kisses down, down until his teeth are catching your underwear. Looking up to you, he searches for an answer in your eyes and you both come to an unspoken agreement. Even if you’re both taking your time in exploring each other, there’s no actual time for him to eat you out, for you to get on your knees and taste him as well. 
You immediately wonder if there’s going to be another opportunity to do all of that. Either way, there’s not enough time to wonder. You help him get out of his trousers, his boxer briefs and you stare at him with an eyebrow up and an open and watering mouth. 
He laughs at your reaction, like he was expecting it. 
He stops laughing when you reach for him. Breathing hard when your thumb teases his tip, gathering precum, he shakes his head and you immediately stop “Baby, we… Not tonight.” 
Then when? You want to ask. 
You just nod before bringing the thumb to your mouth, tasting him and humming in content. Wooyoung leans in and puts his tongue on yours a second later.
He smiles, teeth sinking on your bottom lip before diving in for another kiss “Dirty girl.” He teases you and you shrug. 
“You look so good,” You say against him, pecking his lips, “Couldn’t help myself,” fingers grasping the hairs at the nape of his neck, like you did the night you met, you stop him from kissing you again just to whisper “You taste so good too.”   
His eyes almost roll at that, hips stuttering against you and almost brushing where they need to. “Fuck, don’t say shit like that to me, Y/N.” 
“Sorry.” You say but it’s clear in your smile that you’re not sorry at all and maybe you shouldn’t have because when it comes to taking your last piece of clothing off, he takes his time. 
Fingernails raise goosebumps as they softly go through your skin and he lets out a ragged breath “So fucking beautiful.” 
You feel beautiful. That’s good, because earlier tonight, before you catched him staring up at you on the balcony, you felt undesirable. You felt little, small, incomparable in the worst way possible because… Why not you? 
His words reassure you. Even if you know that’s something you need to do yourself (built enough confidence to not let the choices of a man who doesn’t give a damn about you define your self worth), it helps you tend that wound that reopened. 
He touches you and you feel worth it again. You believe it when your panties fall to the ground and your legs part for him and he looks at you in delight, thumb finding your clit and circling it right away “So fucking wet, fuck.” 
Your hips go up when he finds the right pacing, the right pressure to it and you really shouldn't moan this loud but you don’t care when he lets out a moan of his own at the way your face scrunches in pleasure “I want you.” You let out, breathy and pliant under his touch. 
“You got me,” he’s sweating but you don’t really care, you love the way his pretty nose touches yours when he leans in, index searching and then entering you. “Fuck, I could slip right in, hm? Is that what you want?” 
A moan slips out when he finds your sweet spot and strokes it carefully, he takes it as a reply and, honestly, it is all you can let out at the moment. You squeeze the second finger as it enters you, so it gives away how much you like the thought of that. 
“You do,” he says, teasingly and smiles against your lips as he pecks it “Dirty girl,” He repeats and you shake your head again, hips bucking up when the heel of his hand press against your clit and it sends a new wave of heat across your entire body “Impatient girl. I wish you were in my room now, fuck.” 
You wish that too.
“Woo…” 
“I had to—” 
“I know but there’s people—” Passing the door, you can sense it. In this midst of anything, you can sense it. 
“Who cares about them—”
There’s a phone vibrating somewhere in the room and it’s definitely not yours. He ignores it, fingers picking up their pace. 
“I need you,” you whisper, propping yourself up to kiss his mouth “Please, please fuck me.”
“I want you to come first.” He communicates his crude intention so cutely you might actually miss him when this is all over. 
“And I want to come with you.” 
That stops him and you can literally feel him get harder where he rests against your inner thigh.
“Condom?” You ask in a whisper. 
“Condom, right, fuck—” Both moving to reach his pants on the floor, you giggle and his lips find your cheek for a second as your torsos hang from the bed and you can safely say you never had more fun during sex before this. 
It’s lighthearted even if you’re both practically strangers and then it grows hot, sexy, passionate again when he finds the condom, breaks the package open and then rolls it on with practiced moves. He kisses you, laying back down against the pillows and aligning himself with your entrance. 
“Wait, let me just…” 
“What?” 
You turn around, laying flat on your chest and arching your back just a little so that you can open up your legs for him to enter. You look at him over your shoulder and his surprised expression makes you giggle “You never tried this one?” you ask and at his silence, you nod “Look how easy it is for me to—” Reaching down your stomach and reaching your clit with your fingers for him to see, you circle it a few times and close your eyes at the sensation. 
He kisses the small of your back “Holy fuck, Y//N.” 
“I told you that I’m coming with you, I’m helping.” 
He leans into you, his tip pressing against your clit deliciously “You’re so fucking hot, I almost came.” 
“That’s the point, Woo.” You say through pants, his hands kneading your ass and spreading you open for him to see. It’s a little nasty and you wonder what you both could do with a little more time and less people waiting for you outside. For him, at least. 
When he enters you, the moan that leaves you echoes his and you probably needed just a little bit more prep for the size of him but since you’re so turned on it barely matters when he’s completely seated inside of you and this position just makes it feel ten times better “You feel so good, baby, fuck.” 
“Yeah?” His chest is touching your back now and his lips are leaving open mouth kisses on your shoulder. He moves his hips experimentally and you moan into the sheets, sweat running down your neck and your chest into them but you don’t have time to feel bad for the owner of the bed at all “Was that okay?”
“You can go harder.” 
“Yeah? Fuck.” 
He complies right away and it feels so good you let yourself close your eyes and fully enjoy it, consequences be damned. 
People outside the room hearing you moan? Who cares when your fingers the weight of Wooyoung against you feels so right? 
When his thrusts help you grind your clit on your fingers just right, especially when he increases the speed of them and the wave of pleasure that hits you squeezes him around you so good his moan bounces off the walls and outside of the balcony where someone downstairs giggles and whistles. 
“Oh, God,” he says, a little ashamed but never slowing down and you turn your head, searching for his lips “We should’ve closed that door too.” 
You decide to tease him to wipe that emotion from him and just focus on you “Thought you wanted to give people a show.” 
Opening your eyes, you are able to watch when his eyes harden slightly at the thought, pace faltering as he lets out a tiny whimper. 
“And I thought you wanted me for yourself tonight,” he resumes his relentless pace, thrusting in and out of you with ease now and your cheek meets the sheets again so the bed can muffle your sounds “Maybe next time.” 
Next time. 
You don't really have time to dwell on what that means because you’re so worked up it won’t take much for you to come. You let Wooyoung know and he nods, his forehead against your shoulder again “Kiss me.” He whispers and you crane your neck to do so, to swallow his moans down and keep them with you forever. 
You swallow all of them down when his hips stutter and he comes and you know he keeps yours when you let yourself come right alone with him. He fucks you through both of your orgasms and slows down gradually until he grows sensitive and hisses at any tiny movement and your arms go kind of numb underneath you. 
There’s a sense of urgency your mind picks up immediately after but you ignore it. You have nowhere to go and they charged you twenty dollars to get into this stupid party so they can wait for you two to return to it. 
But there’s a phone vibrating somewhere. And even if you both hear it, Wooyoung turns you around and leans in to give you a kiss so sweet you almost want to keep it with you as well. 
When he pulls away, you wipe the sweat on his forehead with your hands and brush the hair out his face so delicately he closes his eyes and seems to enjoy your touch. 
Now what the hell should you say at a moment like this? Where he doesn’t seem in any rush to leave you and you don’t really want him to leave either. 
Do you tell him he did good? Do you tell him you enjoyed it, that he made you feel safe? That’s the first time in ages you enjoy a quick fuck this much? 
That—
“Please give me your number.” 
Oh, he’s actually adorable. He takes your stunned expression and silence the wrong way, though, and he sits on his knees, pulling out of you and working on getting his condom off while he speaks. 
“I can give you at least ten reasons you should give me your number. Number one, I enjoyed this a lot and I can do better if you give me time, number two—”
“Woo, you literally just fucked me with clown makeup on. I think we’re past you giving me reasons to sleep with you,” you sit up as well, taking his face in your hands again and leaning in to kiss his cheek soundly “Give me your phone.” 
He gets off the bed and looks around the room for the trash can. It’s a tiny one, sitting on top of a desk and you really, really start to feel bad for the girls who are going to have to sleep off their drunken night in this room. You’re surprised that no one knocked on the door but, on party eastern time, it’s still kind of early. 
Two thirty am reads the clock on Wooyoung’s phone when he hands it to you, unblocked. There’s messages flowing in and you try your best to not read them as you enter your number and name into his contacts but you do notice they’re from a group chat. 
You wonder if his friend group is big, if he’s close to all of them, what kind of friend he is. You’re impatient, you want to get to know him all of the sudden and you know it’s dangerous for expectations to grow after a hookup but, as you hand him his phone back, you can’t help but let out a “Woo, do you just want to fuck me or do you want to be my friend too? Something more?” 
He’s reading the messages on the group chat with a frown when your questions register in his brain and he looks up, a curious expression and a tiny smile “You’re very direct, aren’t you?” 
“I hate wondering and mysteries,” you shrug, “I don’t want to expect the wrong thing.”
“Fair,” he nods. “I’m more of a… Just wait and see what happens kind of guy, but if you want an honest answer I just don’t really know. I want to see you again, though.” 
“I want to see you again, too,” You murmur back and he smiles, leaning in a fraction to try and kiss you again but then there’s a thud against the door and a soft ouch coming from behind it that interrupts you “We should really get out of here.” 
It takes a millisecond for him to misinterpret what you meant, smirk growing on his lips when you shake your head disapprovingly and blushing while you pick your panties from the ground and get up to slip them on. 
“Not what I meant!” 
“I mean,” he starts to dress himself as well, “I wouldn’t mind.” 
“No,” you say but you don’t sound so sure of it yourself and it makes him smile even wider, so you roll your eyes. “Where are my…”
“Here.” He hands you the tights and you thank him, almost falling while trying to put them on fast the next second. He laughs at you “Just sit down, babe.” 
“Don’t laugh!” 
“I’m literally not!” 
You tease each other as you get in costume again. This time the fabric bothers you a little but only because you’re sticky and sweaty even if it’s the last day of october. 
Fully clothed, you walk to the door and you suddenly feel very shy and nervous at what can await you behind it. Wooyoung seems to see it on your face, so he steps in your space and kisses your lips sweetly, holding your waist respectfully like he didn’t just make you come less than ten minutes ago. 
“I’m so glad I met you,” he whispers against you and you melt even if you don’t want to. He doesn’t specify why and you don’t ask, but he does smile when you peck his lips one last time before stepping away “Do you want to step out together or do you want to go first, should I go first? We can meet downstairs,” he clarifies before you can think the worst and you giggle “We can leave together too, if you want.” 
You know he means the party. 
But his phone vibrates again, insistently shaking in his pocket and you rest your head against the door softly “I feel like you have people that need you right now.” 
He takes the phone out of his pocket. The screen reads “yuri”, with a series of heart emojis and a middle finger emoji at the end and his expressions turn worrisome immediately. 
“Shit, no, you’re right, um…” 
Stepping away from the door, you grab the knob and open it for him “Do your thing, Woo.” 
You think you know exactly who's calling him. 
Like you already knew, sleeping with Wooyoung didn't fix yours problems at all: 
It hurts that she's been chosen over you again, but you keep the soft smile on your lips either way. 
“I'll text you. I'll call you, I—” he leans into you again, stealing a hard, parting kiss that you probably are going to think about until he keeps his promise “Hey, everything alright?” You faintly hear when he picks up the call. 
When he leaves the room and closes the door behind him, you sag against the wood of it and let yourself meet the cold floor to try and plan out how you're getting out of there and how long it would take you to walk to your dorm room at this time. 
But then your phone digs in your hand, screen lighting up the dark room and your face. 
+82-8-918-2910: my friend got sick bc she drank too much. wish i could take you to your dorm. text me when you get there, yeah? x 
It makes you smile. Despite it all, it makes you smile really hard. 
+82-8-918-2910: it's wooyoung btw ;)  +82-8-918-2910: send me pic of how you save meeeee  +82-8-918-2910: okay my friend is puking in the pool and her date it's fucking useless i have to go text me back pls!! xx 
When you catch yourself re-reading the texts on your home screen and grinning, this time like a complete fucking idiot, you know you'll have to start thinking of another recipe to mend yet another broken heart. 
That's fine. At least you're not thinking about Superman anymore. 
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If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, don't be afraid to go to my inbox and leave your thoughts there, i love reading them!
© jensthwa, 2024.
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mangostarjam · 5 months ago
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declarations (alternate version) — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x f!reader, use of foods as nicknames, childhood best friends dynamic, reader wears a dress and heels, oral (f!receiving), 3k words — the first bit is the same as the original but it does deviate
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"Why do I need to wear a dress?"
Hoshina Soshiro glances up from where he's lounging on your bed. You've already pulled on the dress, of course, and he watches with probably way too much interest as you tug and adjust the way it drapes along your body. It's pretty. It fits perfectly, though you have no idea when Soshiro learned your measurements enough to show up at your door with such a gorgeous dress hanging from his fingers. Maybe he got them from Okonogi-chan?
"You'll be walking 'round with me and the Captain, egg tart, so you've gotta look the part," he says idly, though you can feel the burn of his stare along the newly exposed skin of your back. "And don't forget the heels!"
You glance at the cute, strappy heels he left by your mirror and frown. "If I wear those, I'll be taller than you, Soshiro-kun."
"Aw, that doesn't matter," Soshiro says. He sits up and you look away from the flex of his incredibly defined abdominal muscles beneath his compression shirt, which he apparently wears all the time, even under his formal dress uniform with all its tassels and buttons.
God. Embarrassing. You really need to get your staring issue under control.
"I can fight whoever looks at ya."
"Wha— ?" Heat sears across your face as you splutter and spin around to face him. The skirt of your dress twirls with the movement and you catch his gaze snapping down to your thighs. "Why would you need to fight anyone?"
"Hm?" You take a step back as he gets up and stalks over to you, holding your breath subconsciously as he kneels at your feet and takes one of the heels in hand. Your room suddenly feels warmer, the air hushed, as if the two of you are the only ones who exist in the entire universe. Soshiro chuckles quietly and shoots you a grin that makes your knees feel wobbly.
"Soshiro-kun?"
"Well, 'course I'm gonna fight for ya, apricot," Soshiro says. You flinch as he reaches out to grip your calf, the rough callouses on his fingers scraping lightly as he lifts your leg and slides your foot into the shoe. "You're my best friend, yeah?"
And I'm just a simple man in love goes unspoken as he carefully ties the silk around your ankle to keep the shoe in place. You wobble a bit at the balance and he glances up from beneath his violet bangs. "Hold onto my shoulders," he says quietly, reaching for your other leg. "Don't worry, I've got you."
"S-Soshiro-kun, I can put these on myself," you mumble, heat flaring up your spine at the careful pressure of his fingers on your ankle. He lifts your leg and you grab abruptly at his shoulders, fingers digging into the thick muscle there as you regain your footing with his support.
Soshiro lets out a breath. "I know," he says simply. "But I wanna do it."
Is this what men do when they're in love? You wouldn't know — the only man in your life you've ever cared about is right in front of you, and he's refused to elaborate on his strange statement no matter how many times you've asked. You have a feeling he means it, though.
Like, really means it. You love Soshiro — of course you do. You've always loved him. But lately it's felt… different.
Still comfortable. He's still your biggest supporter and vice versa, and he still knows exactly how to cheer you up and make you laugh. You know all his ticks and tells, and you take great pride in taking care of him while he's looking out for everyone else.
But at the same time… it's uncomfortable.
These little touches — they're new. The way his gaze lingers on your body is also new. Or… maybe you've just never noticed before. It's not a bad thing. But it makes you feel strange and fluttery inside and you catch yourself daydreaming about what it'd be like to actually get a hickey from Soshiro. Your best friend.
You stare down at the top of his head and try to repress a shiver as he skims up your legs to where your skirt rests against your thighs. His touch leaves behind a trail of warmth that burrows deep. "Um— ?"
"Ya look real pretty like this," he says. You're still holding onto his shoulders as he rises from his crouch, your entire body hot and hyperaware of how close he's standing once he straightens. "I could really just eat ya up." The smirk on his face makes your heart thump painfully in your chest, but he doesn't give you a chance to question it before he's grabbing your hands and spinning you around in a little twirl.
"S-Soshiro!"
You let out a little yelp as the room suddenly turns sideways, your center of gravity abruptly gone as Soshiro scoops you off your feet with one strong arm behind your back and the other beneath your knees. You throw your arms around his neck in a desperate move to keep from falling, though you know he'd never drop you.
Soshiro looks down at you with a glint in his eye. "Maybe I will."
"You'll… what?" you ask, breathless. He looks… hungry. Something about that look makes your stomach clench. "Soshiro-kun?"
"As your best friend, I think I've gotta do a lil inspection," Soshiro says brightly. He carries you over to your bed effortlessly, laying you down with a care that makes you burn up in a mixture of embarrassment and want.
You want… something. Soshiro gently detangles your hands from behind his neck and brings them up above your shoulders, gripping both wrists in one of his hands. His other hand is planted by your shoulder to keep from squishing you, though he keeps his balance with a knee between your thighs. "What…?"
"Just checking," he murmurs, leaning down to brush his nose against yours. You can feel his breaths on your lips and you strain a little against his hold, wondering if he can feel your pulse beating rabbit-fast in your wrists. His hand is trembling, though you can't imagine it's from the strain of holding himself up. "Can I?"
What… what is he asking?
Does it matter? It's Soshiro —
"Yeah," you breathe. "Go ahead."
His lips brush yours in a whisper, an exhaled sigh, a pressure as light as a butterfly. You make a funny sound and he grins as he skips down to your neck, pressing a firmer kiss there at your pulse.
"You do taste good, chestnut," he mumbles, just before you feel the sharp nip of his canines pinching your skin. You yelp in surprise and he chuckles, brushing his lips across the spot in apology.
"What did I say about food nicknames," you manage to gasp out, blinking blearily as he rises back up to face you. The tops of his ears and the arch of his cheekbones are painted a charming pink, but his eyes are serious as he meets your gaze.
"Are you good?" Soshiro asks.
Are you? You do feel good — better than good. The way your heart is racing would probably raise some eyebrows in a medical ward and your brain feels like mush, but. You've had your share of meaningless crushes — puppy love, infatuation — but none of it ever really mattered because you've always had Soshiro.
None of it ever felt like this.
Oh.
"I'm good," you whisper.
"And this is okay?" he asks. "I'm not — I told ya I don't mess around when it comes to you."
"I'm not messing around either," you grin up at him, feeling suddenly buoyant as the pieces click into place. "I'm yours, Soshiro."
Your best friend looks at you for a moment, but whatever he sees in your expression makes him laugh — a rough burst of sound punched out of his chest — before he leans down to kiss you again.
You can feel him smiling into the kiss.
It's a little awkward — he bumps your nose and you can't keep from grinning, either, so the kiss turns into several kisses, the smooth press of his lips against yours sending heat curling through your veins as his kisses get deeper, hungrier. He tilts his head and finally lets go of your wrists to grasp your chin, moving you to get the angle just right, though his careful intentions go up in smoke when you reach up to tangle your fingers into his hair and tug.
He pulls back with a gasp, eyes wide and pupils blown, panting as if he's just finished fighting off a kaiju. His voice cracks as he murmurs your name.
"Yeah?" you lean up to brush your lips against his jaw, admiring the strain of his neck as he huffs. "You're so pretty, Soshiro-kun."
It takes a second, but Soshiro's next breath is a sharp inhale as he presses his body against yours, pinning you to the mattress.
Then he whines.
Oh, god.
The sound seems to startle both of you, but he recovers first, dipping down to kiss you senseless as the ache in your core intensifies. He's solid and warm and heavy on top of you, his hands burning along your arms and sides and skimming over the neckline of your dress before he seems to settle on gripping your hips as he bullies his way between your thighs. The gasp you let out is loud in the thick air of your room, but the groan he lets out when you squirm against the solid, unyielding length of him is even louder.
Soshiro moves back to pressing hard kisses to your neck and exposed shoulders, panting hard as you whimper with every stinging nip of his teeth. "You're gorgeous," he murmurs, "you're so fucking perfect, I can't —"
"S-Soshiro," you whine, wiggling your hips in an effort to chase the electric sparks of pleasure rising with every sharp, aborted thrust of his hips. "What's — why're you —"
"I'm tryin' not to cum in my pants," he grunts, fingers digging hard into your waist to still you. You sob at the loss of friction and Soshiro huffs. "Fuckin' hell — you're so — but I can't be walking 'round the party all dirty."
Your eyes snap open at the reminder and you shove at the shoulders you were clinging to for dear life a moment ago. "The party!"
"Yeah, the party," Soshiro laughs, grabbing one of your hands. He presses a kiss to the leaping pulse in your wrist. "Didja forget, pumpkin?"
The tender affection somehow makes you warm, even as his hips grind slowly against your core to make you burn. Your legs, which you hadn't even registered moving, drop to the sides, sending your dress to pool further up your thighs and exposing the thin fabric of your panties. Soshiro glances down at the movement, but you can only see the way his lashes flutter at the sight before he's grinding his clothed cock against you again.
A muscle in his sharp jaw ticks as he glances back up at you. "Ya look real good," he says, "and I'm tryin' to do this right, but —"
One thing about being best friends for your whole lives means you can tell when he's holding something back.
One thing about becoming lovers with your best friend is that now you can see he's been holding back from this.
"You can't go into the party like this," you point out. Soshiro laughs, a strangled sound.
"We're not havin' a quickie as our first time," he says firmly. His expression lights up. "But I did promise an inspection, didn't I?"
"What're you — Soshiro!"
He moves too quickly for you to react, pressing another hard kiss to your lips — his tongue dipping in to draw out a startled moan — before he's suddenly kneeling at the edge of the bed, yanking you closer by your legs spread on either side of him. "The heels look nice," he says conversationally, dragging his hands up your calves.
You suddenly feel over-sensitive, your nerve endings straining into his touch as he leans forward to drag his nose along the inside of your thigh. "Ah— Soshiro, that tickles!"
"They make your legs look good," he continues, as if you hadn't spoken. You raise up on your elbows to glare down at him as he brushes his lips featherlight against your thigh. Soshiro smirks and turns his head to nip the skin there, kissing and sucking along your thigh as he slings your leg over his shoulder for easier access.
Oh, shit.
The whine you let out would be embarrassing except that Soshiro mutters a curse and shoots you a look that makes your core clench tight. You reach for his hands, desperate for some leverage or an anchor, and he lets you take one of his hands but uses the other to hike your other leg over his shoulder.
"This is cute," Soshiro remarks, looking intently at your panties and the damp spot clearly evident even in the dim light. "Were they expensive?"
What is he asking? Why would it matter when the only thing you can focus on is the incessant ache in your core, inches away from his touch, heartbreakingly empty and wet and hot —
Soshiro rips your panties with one hand and tosses the flimsy scraps of cloth aside, exposing your fluttering core to his hungry gaze. You shift desperately, torn between wanting and wanting to hide, but before you can voice a request Soshiro dips in and licks you.
"Oh, fuck —" you moan, collapsing back on the bed as your hips buck up into the friction. Soshiro licks at you sloppily, digging his tongue into every inch and fold of you as he groans.
"All this for me?" he murmurs, catching your eye as you clutch desperately at the blankets. "Only for me, right, melon drop?"
You nod shakily as he gently kisses the throbbing bundle of nerves at your core. "I'm yours, Soshiro," you gasp. The waves of pleasure building in your body are frightening, your heart pounding hard, but you can't help tilting your hips closer to him. "Please, Soshiro — I… I can't —"
"Hah — fuck you," Soshiro groans. "Hold on to me."
You barely get a moment to register his command before he dives back in, targeting your clit and sucking on it as you sob with pleasure. White hot electricity races through your veins as you scrabble desperately for something to hold on to, grabbing at the purple strands of his hair and rocking your hips as he devours you.
You feel the burning touch of his finger as he drags it along your lower lips, making you suddenly hyper aware of how empty you feel. Your insides clench futilely, your fingers twisting into his hair painfully as you moan and beg. "Soshiro, Soshiro please —"
You can hear the squelch of your wetness as he finally slides his finger inside you, poking and prodding your walls until he presses against something that makes you see stars. Your back bows off the bed as you pant and squirm.
"There ya go," he grunts, pulling back to fix you with a burning red stare. "Let go for me, honey. I've got you."
You clench around his finger as he adds another, the intrusion unfamiliar but welcome, pleasure spiraling and spiking through you as he flicks his thumb over your clit and presses against that spot just right. It's — it's too much — too overwhelming —
Soshiro sucks your clit between his lips again and you shoot over the edge with a shout.
"Good fucking girl," Soshiro murmurs. You can barely hear him beyond the fuzzy aftershocks, but the words bleed warmth into your face as you melt into the mattress. He carefully licks you clean, chuckling when you whine at the overstimulation.
"Soshiro?"
"Yeah?" He climbs back over you, the lower half of his face shiny with wetness. It should be gross, but you're so boneless you can't even bring yourself to care as he leans down to kiss you, tongue tangling with yours as you moan at the taste of yourself.
"Where'd you… where'd you learn how to do that?" you mumble tiredly.
"In my dreams," Soshiro says, laughing when you pout at him. "I've been dreaming 'bout you for ages, y'know. But most of the technical stuff was from locker talk with the guys."
You nod and glance down, but the angle is awkward and you can't quite see —
"Ah, don't worry 'bout me," Soshiro ducks his head and you stare at the pink flush rising up his neck. "I'm gonna hafta meet you at the ballroom, hazelnut. I need a change of pants."
"Oh," you nod, wide eyed and blushing as he snorts. "Sorry?"
"Don't apologize for bein' a dream come true," he says. "But we should really go soon, or the captain'll have both our heads."
Soshiro helps you stand on wobbly legs as you regain your balance on heels, kneeling to smooth your dress back down your thighs. "Wait — what about my panties?"
He tilts his head thoughtfully. "Right, I'll help ya with that."
Soshiro's touch is warm this time, not burning hot, and the kisses he presses along your thighs are more ticklish than anything. He grins up at you as you giggle. "Will we tell Captain Ashiro after the party tonight?"
He rises and his gaze goes to your neck and shoulders, exposed by the straps of your dress. Something sharp and pleased settles in his smile. "I don't think we'll need to worry 'bout it. Any fool who gets close to ya when you're marked up all pretty for me is askin' for trouble."
… What?
You look past him to the mirror and gasp. All those little bites from earlier are blooming pink and purple beneath your skin. Soshiro laughs, swoops forward to kiss your scolding right out of your mouth, and pulls away only after you've melted back into his arms, pliant and breathless.
"You passed inspection, by the way," Soshiro adds, smiling a little lopsided and fond. "Congratulations on becoming the Third Division Vice Captain's fiancée."
Your eyes widen. "Fiancée?"
"Oh, too soon? We can start off with 'girlfriend' first."
"Soshiro…"
"What? A guy's got dreams, alright?"
You laugh. "You didn't even propose!"
"Alright, fine," he kisses you again and you beam, delight and happiness swooping through you at how easy it all feels. "Keep that third finger on your left hand empty for me, apricot."
"It's a promise."
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heretherebeturtles-comic · 2 months ago
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Hello! Many people have said this but ill say it too, I LOVE YOUR COMIC SO MUCH ( ´ ▽ ` ).。o♡
I really wanted to ask you about how you do the backgrounds? (Something i struggle with) whats the process? Like from start to finish, also, to do the rise backgrounds do you use reference from the show and generally real photo of ny? Or do you come up with them? And last question- The shadow and light on the background- Like HOW
i know it’s a lot of questions but i’m just so curious qwq and wanna learn to be better, thank you again in case you read this and respond, in case you don’t, i hope you have a nice day and a wonderful life uwu keep up the great work! (≧◡≦) ♡
Backgrounds are a really broad subject and I'm always a little overwhelmed when asked this question. Just like drawing the human body, backgrounds take time, repetition, and practice!
My answer got a bit long, so it's going under a read more :) but if you digest info better in video format I found this on youtube
youtube
It pretty much goes over everything I wanted to say, but in a much better way. I wish I had found it before writing all this out lol
ok, first of all, I'm not a teacher nor was I built to be one of those cool helpful art tutorial people who do a full coloured tutorial filled with illustrations. This is just going to be a messy "how I do backgrounds / environment layouts from start to finish." kinda thing.
... lets start with a sight tangent.
Sketch from Life!!!
If you want to get better at backgrounds I recommend doing some sketching out in the real world!
When I was first getting into doing backgrounds I went to cafes and parks to just sketch the buildings and objects. Sketch rocks, flowers, clumps of grass, garbage cans, bottles, tables, street signs, etc. If you are drawing a tree observe how the trunks twist, how the bark flows, or how the leaves are bunched.
If you can't leave the house the same still applies! Sketch the interiors of your house, the walls, or common objects like chairs and bookshelves. How are objects stacked? items on the floor?
If you aren't comfortable with drawing outside or in public you can take some photos to draw from! They are good for practice and you can use them again as references later. Alternatively you can find pictures online of buildings and objects to sketch as practice.
All spaces have objects in them, it becomes easier to draw those kinds of spaces when you already have spent time observing and sketching them.
ALSO! They don't have to be good sketches! It's just to build out your mental catalogue and strengthen your perception of perspective.
now the actual thing...
BACKGROUNDS
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(the pictures used for this are my own. I dug them out of my 2022 folder)
Backgrounds have slightly different rules based on what you are making them for. Videogame Environment Concept Art vs Animation Layouts vs Comic Backgrounds vs Illustration backgrounds.
They all follow the same basics, which I will go over here, but the intention and function of those designs are going to be different. It's all about how you set up the scene and what it's purpose is!
Brainstorming and Thumbnailing
I like to think about a location as though it is a character. An abandoned old house with creaky sagging floorboards is very different from a futuristic space ship with sharp metal floor panels. A gas station has a very different feeling from a library.
I usually start by asking what is this location's story? Why was it built and for what purpose? What kinds of things does this room need to fulfill that purpose? You don’t need solid answers, but its good to be thinking about it while you are working.
Next, sketch some ideas for how this place is going to look. For me, this usually involves drawing the idea from multiple angles and then making lists & small sketches of the objects I think should be filling the space.
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Example: The main character of my original work is a Wanderer. They collect a lot of things on their travels, but those items have to be small enough to be easily carried in a backpack. I wanted his room to be in the corner of an attic, walled off by curtains, and filled with trinkets. You can see some of my brainstorming above.
References
I only look for references after I've done some sketching and planning; this is to solidify my idea first so that I don't accidentally copy anyone else's work. I will make a moodboard with pictures of lighting, colours, items, rooms with specific ceiling beams, old chairs, etc. basically whatever I feel fits the vibe.
Honestly, I don't use references as much as I should. For ROTTMNT fanart I look at backgrounds and screenshots from the series to study the style. I also reference actual photos of NYC to get a feel for how Rise condenses the visual information.
In general, it's good to have references of real life objects/locations, because there are so many details like cracks in pavement, stickers on polls, crowning on buildings, fancy fencing, weird chair legs, etc. that you might not think of. It's the imperfect details that can make a location feel more alive.
Perspective
Once you have your chosen sketch we move to.... the infamous perspective boxes. Doing backgrounds is just learning to be comfortable drawing So Many boxes and carving items out of them.
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Many better artists than myself have made videos on perspective, vanishing points, and all the technical bits. Videos like THIS ONE and THIS ONE are helpful (this post is great too!!). There are probably a lot of classes to be found on Skillshare or Schoolism. I learned a lot of this in my college art course, so I can't give you a specific video which helped me.
You can get by and be a good artist without learning this stuff. There are quite a few successful artists who have admitted they never bothered to learn perspective (one of these people even made a whole graphic novel series).
I personally avoided properly learning this stuff until I was in my 20s because I thought it would be boring and difficult to do. tbh I really wish I had learned it earlier because it's so much fun to make those silly little boxes imo. It looks scary and complicated but, just like drawing humans, it just takes time, repetition, and practice to develop the knowledge and skills.
Cleanup
You have your boxes and lines! Cool! Now to make a scene out of it. Fill in the details, get everything placed were you want it! Generally, the lines of each item will point back towards the horizon line, but they can have different perspective points.
Generally you would want to clean it up and get your room completely sketched before doing the lineart. I tend to combine the steps (not recommended)
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Lineart
I've mentioned how I do this before. Closer objects have thicker lines and more detailed inside. Further objects have thinner lines and less detail. I didn't quite achieve that balance with the image below, but it's close enough.
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Colours and Shading will have to be a separate post. In the meantime, I highly recommend the book "Color and Light" by James Gurney. I used to borrow it from my local library and a good chunk of my knowledge was learned from it :)
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jinstronaut · 5 months ago
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yoongi in green 💚💚💚 for @cordiallyfuturedwight (cr. namuspromised, dwellingsouls)
cc’s for palestine masterlist | request here
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setacin · 1 month ago
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“This is my body, which is broken for you: do this in remembrance of me,"
Art for the fic "the starving faithfuls" by planetarypluto (@mothmanhamlet )
(go read the fic and leave a nice comment its very good i promise)
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ashipiko · 8 months ago
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—NIKO CIMARRON
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All information on Niko Cimarron ATM! Will most likely be updated ☆
—MORE UNDER CUT
BASIC INFORMATION:
Class: 2-A
Birthday: October 24
Height: 176cm
Dominant Hand: Right
From: Land of Pyroxene / Shaftlands
Club: Film Studies (visits on occasion, inactive member)
Favorite Subject: Magic Analysis
Best Subject: Animal Languages
Likes: Making a profit
Dislikes: Getting outsmarted
Favorite Food: Berries / Berry flavored things
Least Favorite Food: Anything too hot
Specialty: Balancing on the line of lie and truth
GALLERY:
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VOICE CLAIM:
YUU’S INTERVIEW:
— Scarabia Dorms - Niko’s Room —
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for easier reading, all yuu dialogue will be in italics and all niko dialogue will be in a normal black font instead of green.
There you are. Surprised you came to visit me, Carrots.
> You know what I’m here for, Niko.
> Why are you surprised?
No need to act like that. Interview, right? Or should I say an interrogation? If you wanted to hang out with me, you didn’t need to hide around the bush, you know…
It’s cute seeing you all dodgy, but still. ♡
> I think it matches your vibe.
> You’re one to talk.
Yeah, yeah. How many questions do we have planned for today? Don’t take too long, now. I’ve gotta start pumping out those treats for my profit.
…Oh. No need to worry about a pen and paper, I’ve got one for you.
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> I didn’t expect for you to be so prepared.
> (…They’re cuter than expected.)
Something something about matching the vibes… They’re modeled after an old movie about cops and so, interrogating. Figured you’d like them. A carrot for Carrots. It’s cute.
It’s about time to start though, huh?
> Yeah.
> No more wasting time.
INTERVIEW: START!
1. Can we get some basic info about you from… you?
A second year Scarabia student who’s a fox beastman. I guess I’m what you’d call a charmer, thief of the heart, man of your dreams… I’ve heard it all. But the real name’s Niko. Niko Cimarron. My surname means “Wild”, so you could call me Mr. Wild if you like that too. Heh, actually, it’s a business thing, so I guess you’d only call me that if you bought my products… Say, Carrots, you feeling like you need a snack? I have some lefties if you’d like.
> No thanks.
> Why not?
They’re tasty, I prommie~.
2. Speaking of which, what are your “pawpsicles” made from? How do you make them?
Those little things? Why, I’ll let you know I put my blood, sweat, and tears in those treats. Makes me happy to see other people happy, like the faces on a thaumark. To make ‘em, it’s just some tasty berries from the school grounds that get mushed up to get juice, where they go into a mold and freeze up. It’s hard work! I’ve gotta walk so many steps around the school and all across campus… You’re lucky you never saw me in my first year. Took me a while to get used to the schedule… Though, I’m a well-organized man now, I’ll have you know. It’s good for the public image.
3. You’re from the Shaftlands, aren’t you? Do you have any connections to Vil, Cater, or Jack?
Connections? I have them with everyone, really… though I don’t think those three are really aware I came from the same place as them. To be fair, the Shaftlands is a pretty big area. People even go as far to call it a utopia.
If anything, I’ve talked to Diamond more at NRC than anywhere in the Shaftlands. Is that because I never even saw him once? Maybe. So I can’t say about back then, but I can enjoy a good conversation with him now. He’s a good customer and a good influencer. Back then, he got me a good chunk of costumers off of a Magicam post, so I’ve got to give it to him. Who knew people could just follow trendy things at the drop of a hat? Crazy, right?
Vil is a major celebrity, and Jack, I didn’t even know existed ‘till this year. I’ve got nothing to say about Mr. Hardhead, but I’ve had my fair share of talks with Vil. When we were kids, I got a wave from him once… It was great bragging rights. Heh, he kinda freaks me out now though. The reason why I don’t actually participate in club activities. He’s probably too high of a standard for a lowlife like me, so it’s not something that bothers me anyway.
4. You don’t seem to have a Unique Magic. Any reason why?
Ah. Magic? A little bit of a sour topic for me, Carrots, ow… I’m just a late bloomer, is all. I’ve got magic in me, but I never played around with it when I was younger, so I’m way more rusty than all of the other guys here. It doesn’t mean I don’t know the brain stuff, though. Just inexperienced.
If I’m being dead honest, it’s kind of a miracle how I got into NRC. I guess they wanted the fox vote, huh? Heh.
5. Not sure if I’ve seen you around a lot with one particular person. Is there a secret someone?
Secret someone? Getting jealous, are you? Haha, I would’ve never taken you to be the type!
> Not the focus of the question.
> That’s not…!
It’s your fault for wording it like that. You’ve got to watch your words, Carrots. Well, the business life is a cold one, isn’t it? Being around a bunch of highschool guys isn’t really the “ideal” grounds for making business partners either, so it is what it is. At least this way, I get all the profits, so I don’t mind. If you want, I can save a spot for you by my side. ♡
> Again, no thanks.
> Maybe after I get a break from all the things this school brings.
Keep me in mind~.
6. Our last question. You say a lot of random stuff. People get annoyed with it pretty often. How do you feel about that?
…? Oh, you picked up on it, huh? Heh, I mean… I guess I could come clean. I think it’s interesting you haven’t walked away from me yet, y’know. Usually people aren’t into this stuff.
> You are annoying, but…
> (Would it be mean to say something?)
I appreciate you, Carrots. A little too much than I’d like.
Usually people don’t really like the stereotypical foxiness I bring to the table. They run away because I’m either something they don’t wanna get mixed up with, or just something they don’t like. I think you’re a weirdo who’s looking for entertainment when you come into my room and talk to me like this.
…But I guess that just means that you like the way I talk to you, right? You can’t get enough? Is that what’s happening here? ♡
> For a second, I thought you were going to need some comfort, but I guess not.
> Really, it’s fine, Niko…
Don’t pretend like your cheeks aren’t a little red. I like the reactions I get out of you. ♡
Is that all you wanted? Yeah? Alright, we’re done here, then. Hand me the pen, would ya?
> It was nice being able to talk to you like this.
> (That was a quick turnaround.)
…Yeah. Hurry on up, shouldn’t you be studying up on actual things worth studying? Live up to that Smarty McSmart Pants title. Bye-bye now~.
INTERVIEW: END!
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> (I feel like Niko’s more than meets the eye.)
> (I feel like Niko’s… hiding something.)
.
.
.
TRIVIA:
Niko is twisted off of Nick Wilde from Zootopia!
Niko is actually magicless. Not entirely, as he does have some running in his blood, so he didn’t lie, but it’s not enough where he can successfully conjure spells. Because of this, at NRC, he often has to get by with con-artist type excuses and acts. It works most of the time, as he has Crowley’s support. For now, he’s getting by with the excuse of being a late bloomer, but I’m sure suspicions are beginning to rise… Perhaps, if it were to be found out that he’s unable to conjure spells, he would be kicked out of NRC.
He made it to NRC after being dared to attempt to con his way in by his magicless best friend. His name is not noted, but he’s a very angry and violent French fennec fox. Niko is often bullied by him.
He can be considered a fan of Vil.
Niko enjoys the pop genre a lot, but is embarrassed to admit it.
Despite being a playboy, Niko is easily flustered at the thought of someone seriously making moves on him.
Niko can also count as a bit of a heartbreaker. For the romantics around the school, everyone knows Niko as that kid who’ll charm you for a week and leave you heartbroken when he inevitability rejects you. It’s not anything against anybody, really, but more so the fact that Niko can’t ever imagine dating someone before he tells them his secret. It feels unfair to him. But people take offense to it nonetheless, the heartbroken people usually cutting Niko off as soon as they figure out that there won’t be anything working between them.
Because of the way some people leave him as soon as they sense no romance, Niko finds the concept of love to be sort of flaky. It takes a while for him to develop a crush, despite his flighty, flirty attitude.
Due to being a class 2-A student, Niko often ends up selling his treats most often there. Kalim and Silver are his number one customers, as Kalim buys bundles of them to give to Scarabia members, and Silver buys them for Lilia to enjoy.
Niko attends the Playful Land event and ends up staying in contact with Fellow Honest afterwards. This relationship ends up contributing a lot to Niko’s development.
Even though he doesn’t want to, he feels obligated to play into the deceitful foxiness of himself, because that’s what people naturally expect of him. It stops them from getting curious about him, as it seems like they’ve already got him figured out.
He says things that are considered shallow, like flirting or bargaining because he wants to get a reaction out of people. Niko does small things like this for small reactions — enough of these small reactions will fulfill the same satisfaction of seeing someone he loves flustered or happy, he thinks. In truth, he knows it won’t amount to much. Niko tries to satisfy himself enough so that he won’t need the real thing.
Niko feels very guilty for deceiving everyone at NRC, especially the prefect. Even still, he doesn’t have the heart to tell them that he truly doesn’t belong here, taking up a spot possibly for somebody who deserves it much more.
Niko’s way of thinking suggests that if he acts distasteful enough, it will cause people to stray far away from him. He believes that he really is just a lowlife fox, but the truth of his actions is something he think people would hate him for most; living in a lie. Because of this, he acts like a playboy and an annoyance in attempts to get people to stay away, preventing them from finding out the even uglier truth of him.
Additionally, he’s afraid to have the truth leak out because he doesn’t want to leave NRC. Though he doesn’t have much, he doesn’t want to lose the little bit he does have, and the little bits he keeps on gaining.
Even still, Niko craves for someone who will take time to understand him. Which is why he’s so attached to the prefect.
More to be added!
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^ the pawpsicle icons in this relationship chart represent whether if the character is an avid pawpsicle enjoyer (has the icon), has experienced it once but never had it again (once!), and if they have never had it.
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spearxwind · 9 months ago
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Here's another concept for Broken Horizon - a dragon pilot saddle! Ft. Alex as the model (and Riptide as the pilot, even if you can't see his face)
Modern saddles were jointly developed by dragons and humans post-war to make dragon riding safer and flying more precise, as regular reins and voice commands quickly became obsolete.
In these saddles the control sticks on the pilot's seat transmit inputs to the steering modules, which are then interpreted into nerve impulses for the dragon to follow. However they are not hard commands, and the dragon can still choose to ignore the impulses for any reason. This means that the dragon and the pilot must have an incredibly strong trust bond for the best performance.
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haveihitanerve · 19 days ago
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Gotham Protects Her Own
“Gotham protects her own.” Bruce had whispered to him once, in a, at the time, not so rare moment of affection, cradling dick to his chest as they looked over his city. Their city. Batman and Robin. Dick had believed him, of course, but he hadn’t really felt it. Not until he had stood at the bats side for the second year in a row, and his cape had fluttered. Dicks cape had never fluttered while he was standing. Running across the rooftops? Sure. Jumping over a chimney? Most definitely. But just standing still, no movement? It had never happened. Bruce’s did, from the very beginning Bruce’s cape had flown behind him, flapping with grace in the wind that was not there. But dicks hadn’t. But now… Bruce smiled down at him, pride lining every line in his face, before he took off across the roof, a challenge and a test at the same time. Dick chased after him, and for the first time since he had become Robin, he flew. His feet barely touched down, cushioned by the roofs, by shadows, and he laughed, wild and bright and free, and Bruce joined him, laugh deep and rich and full. Dick belonged to Gotham now, the city had laid her claim on him, and as Batman and Robin flew across the city, Dick could hear a new laugh join them, light and happy and feminine, delighted by their delight, their acceptance. Gotham protects her own, and Dick Grayson-Wayne, the first Robin, had earned that right, that protection, with his leaps and jokes and belief in Batman, in a belief in the city, in the belief that it could be better. 
Gotham protects her own. Catherine Todd had murmured to him once, late one night, a bruise blossoming on her cheek, eyes heavy from drugs. She was close to death, Jason could feel it practically wafting off her, and he didn't think much of her last words, a hazy drugged hallucination, slurred speech. But then she had passed and Jason had left, choosing the street over his father and then he had understood. People came looking for him, naturally, even his father ventured out, but shadows seemed to envelop him, the streets opened to his footfalls, and he always found a safe place to sleep, never waking with his things stolen or suddenly kidnapped. Jason could feel the city, his very lifeblood, could hear her music in her traffic, felt her song in the earthquakes. Gotham cradled him, sheltered him, and when the time came, pushed him to a left unattended Batmobile, tempting him to steal the tires. For the first time, Jason doubted his city, hated her for sending him into a trap. But then he became Robin, and Gotham squealed in delight, and Jason watched in awe as Bruce flew, as Gotham made his cloak billow, as she nurtured her prodigal son. Batman had gotten injured, once, badly enough that he had struggled with his grapple line, and it had snapped. Jason had screamed, lunging for him, but it was too late. Before he could cry over the dead body of his mentor, he found Bruce at the bottom of the building, not much worse for wear at all. Gotham had cradled him, shadows leaping to cushion his fall. Jason had laughed with glee, rushing Bruce home as quickly as possible, and something had brushed his cheek, a faint kiss against his forehead. Gotham protects her own and Jason Todd-Wayne, the second Robin, had been born into that right, that protection, and felt her city pound through his body like blood, feeding his soul. 
Gotham protects her own. Tim had seen the slogan on a Wayne Enterprise billboard once, when he had been seven, an ad campaign promoting insurance and helpful housing. It had become a sort of mantra for him, something he whispered under his breath every time his father made a snide comment about Tim lacking proper talent or social skills, after every call his parents declined, after every fight that had him biting his lip to stop the tears and debate running away. Gotham protects her own. Became his lifeline, his mantra, a promise of a better life. It wasn't anything he ever believed, until he finally worked up the courage to approach Bruce Wayne about the secret. Tim slipped on the Robin uniform for the first time… And something inside him settled. A woman's voice in the back of Tim’s head squealed. But as he raced over the rooftops, finally at Batman's side as he always dreamed to be instead of a few feet behind, snapping pictures, his cape dancing with the wind, his feet hardly touching down, that mantra, that false belief of hope, of a better life, became truth. Gotham protects her own, and Tim Drake-Wayne, the third Robin, had believed in that truth his whole life, wishing with every fiber of his being that she would protect him, and she finally had. 
Gotham protects her own. David Cain had warned her once, telling her great stories of the city with air of midnight black, of water a putrid green, and of a people a hardy and tough. It hadn't been a compliment, just another obstacle she would need to overcome to fulfill her future missions. She had believed him, of course, but… she had never truly known what it meant. Not until she had stumbled into the city, hurt, bleeding, afraid, and she had felt that… otherworldly power. Reaching for her. Its tendrils soft and kind, like a mother, shadows stretching across her, shielding her, as the League prowled the streets. It wasn't until she saw him. The Bat. And his little Bird, brutal efficiency and yet mercy in every action, wasn't until she saw how Gotham cradled them, lifted them, helped them to fly. Gotham had been more accepting to her than she had thought. Maybe because she hadn't hurt her children. Maybe because she knew her pain. Maybe because Cass had been so afraid. But whatever the reason, when Cassandra Cain-Wayne took to the streets, a proud, blazing Bat on her chest, her cape billowing behind her, Gotham sang. 
“Gotham protects her own!” Arthur Brown had screamed once. It had been in a fit of rage, followed by the sounds of windows crashing and tables smashing against the wall. He had been angry, livid even, the sound of his footsteps heavy and hard on the floor as he stormed around, pissed that Batman was unreachable for him, untouchable, protected by the city he claimed to do the same to. Steph knew the truth in the words, had been protected by them her whole life, finding a window open right when her father got home, the closet door unlocked miraculously after her father had locked her up, alleyways opening for her to escape through when bigger kids picked on her, or the cops chased her. And it happened now, as Arthur Brown came storming for her, rage and malice and every evil intention written across his features. Steph could feel that tug, that indescribable feeling of home, and she took a step back, melting into the shadows as she fled, fled her home, fled her father, fled his wrath and everything wrong with the world. She settled on the roof, the way she always did when he got like this, and waited, as she always did. For it to end. For him to stop. It was that night that she saw him for the first time. Steph had heard of him, of course, the Batman was infamous throughout Gotham by now, but she had never seen him in person. Never watched his work. It was at Bethany’s house. Bethany’s father, Vincent, was screaming again. The way Arthur was. But Gotham, Gotham didn't protect Bethany the way she did Steph. Or maybe Bethany just didn't listen. But Batman.. Batman listened. Batman protected. Steph watched, wide eyed, as he jumped through the window, as he grabbed Vincent by the throat and slammed him against the wall, snarling in his face. Steph watched, hands clutching her teddy, wondering whether she would rather risk her father than this demon. But he stopped. Paused. Threw Vincent to the ground in disgust, unconscious, and turned to Bethany. Beth had stopped moving, the way she always did when Vincent got the way he did, dissociating so she wouldn't feel his hands on her. Steph didn't think it worked, but it was something. Batman bent down, gentle, slowly, a few feet away, extending a hand to Beth. Steph couldn't hear what he said, couldn't see his face, but Beth blinked at him. She blinked, and she walked closer, slowly. And Batman… Batman held her, held her until she was crying, held her through her tears and wiped her eyes and rubbed her back, held her until she was asleep without nightmares, and carried her to bed, tucking her in gently. Steph didn't know how long she sat there, watching as he cared for this little girl, forgoing the Bat Symbol in the sky, and his anger, for her. Gotham protects her own, Steph swore as she watched him drop from the window the same night, flitting away on shadows only she could see. Gotham protects her own, and she would protect Gotham. She would mold herself after the Bat, and help. 
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marmastry · 10 months ago
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Extra:
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Kofi
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