#i want to save SOME things for discovery

[engagemythrusters]

no cause i need someone to just. understand the way the Ahsoka & Vader fight of Rebels and the last Obi-Wan & Vader fight in the Kenobi series make me fucking RABID. make me INSANE. make me ALL SORTS OF FUCKED UP

[gilliontidestriderchampionoftheu]

MY BEAUTIFUL RIPTIDE OCS... their names are catalina and milo avery <3 catalina's a water genasi, and milo's a tiefling :] !!

[zeb-z]

Cellbit who holds his shit together, pieces together the clues, and solves the issue while walking on a tightrope, where if he cannot correct for the mistakes made, the fallout would be catastrophic. He cannot fail to solve the case, he cannot fail to cure his friends, it isn’t an option in how desperate the situation has gotten.

He’s relied upon by everyone as the leader of the order, shoulders heavy with the burden. He is intense when he needs to be, gentle when a soft touch is required, and keeps his head when the situation is so intense the others are speechless.

He gets through Forevers stubbornness, reassures Pac in his sorrow and indecisiveness. It’s a fucked up scene and he handles it well because he has no other choice.

He doesn’t cry until it’s all over. Just for a second, when the moment is over, and he can take a breath of air. And even then he leads the rest of them through clean up. He makes sure Pac gets home, gets Forever to a proper place to rest, ensures the rest of the group is okay after what they just witnessed.

Then the moment he leaves the others, he finds another critical clue that he can’t just ignore or put to the back burner.

Another mystery, another crisis, another billion clues he’ll have to organize and follow up on and solve, because he’s the investigation guy, the leader of the order, and the island is counting on him. The kids are counting on him. He doesn’t get a chance to truly breathe. To fully sit down and let himself crumble, let someone, anyone, else be the strong foundation, because if he can’t solve this, who will?

Even with his family returning to him, it’s no wonder he feels so alone. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, I guess.

[phoenixcatch7]

I'm making a persona 5 au of svsss (au in that it was the modern world that was the au, and sy brought something along with him), and I'm having a lot of fun with it!

Sy dies the same way as in canon, but this time as the leader/a member of the Chinese branch of phantom thieves (when and how a Chinese branch was made can be handwaved). He's a fellow wild card, a fool arcana, he's got third eye and a fully realised but unawakened persona.

When he awakes in sqq's body, he starts on as canon, but starts to notice strange fluctuations on qj that indicate the presence of the meta verse - and not only that, but a palace. The system notices the mysterious appearance of a new program it can't delete - the meta nav.

Without the key words, however, Sqq can't get in. He can't find who it belongs to, nor what it might be. One thing is for certain though: lbh cannot find out. The blackened protagonist with free reign of the meta verse? An undoubtedly powerful persona of his own?? It'd be the breakdown incidents all over again! He wouldn't stand a chance!

It takes a lot of arguing with the system about narrative directions and plot holes for it to not direct him to the nearest ripple in reality. In dreams, igor agrees (he has a lot to say about his new situation, but Sqq kinda ignores it).

Then, one day, he finds a fluctuation strong enough to fit a human, and slips right through, his scifi fantasy ninja outfit appears in flames, and he is faced with the distortion of qing jing peak - roiling dark clouds, bamboo towering impossibly far over his head, brown leaves thick on the ground and a thunderous gong ringing from somewhere down the path.

A coliseum.

Screams ring out, metal clashes, beasts roar.

And standing in front of the metal grill gate, tall and bedazzled in riches and more unmarked than shen yuan has ever seen him, is shen qingqiu.

-

What is persona if not themes of the inner self and fighting literal inner demons and learning to love, both yourself and others, and overcoming tragedy?

There are some things I'm still unsure of, but I really want to explore the idea of the ghost of sj lingering on, still haunting the narrative and how that affects everyone. Normally, when a palace ruler is killed, their palace crumbles as well, but with Sqq still walking around and the systems intervention with his soul (having not died then in canon) the original goods wouldn't be fully gone.

The soul is! It's not sjs ghost, but rather his shadow. Real souls cannot live in the meta verse. But with the real deal gone, sy would be unable to affect him in order to make his way through the palace to the treasure the way a normal heist would go. Instead, he'd have to learn about sj himself, uncovering secrets and dispelling rumours. As the new Sqq, he would have to change his perspective and uncover the story behind the scum villain in order to progress. Remove the distorted perspective from himself.

Mini bosses would be a bad faith interpretation of yqy from sjs perspective, qiu haitang as she was at the manor. Enemies would be the coliseum guards and jailers, the shadow populace qj disciples in general misery, often forced to fight each other or monsters as sj watches on from the top seat. Nyy would sit with him. Poor shadow lbh would be a prime gladiator slave, suffering constant defeat. Sin: envy. I really want to focus on the fact he is both abuser and survivor, and his 'I suffered, thus so should you' thing. A bit like p5 strikers in that.

The plot would be basically Sqq handling both the canon events of svsss and also his investigation into sj, tracing paper trails of slave documents, hunting for potential secrets in the bamboo house, learning about the ghost backstab incident from lqg (which leads him to airplane), building up the courage to go down and talk to the brothel ladies, carefully teasing bits of history out of yqy. Also beating up shadows with a jojo stand and a .7 calibre sniper rifle he can fire like an automatic in his spare time. (if you don't know, persona lets you hold shadows at gunpoint for cash and items, but also flirt, threaten and bribe. Also you can ambush them and sometimes collect them like pokemon it's fun.)

The final battle would have the palace ruler sj transform into his final form (I'm thinking something with chains) but there absolutely has to be a human duel for the first phase, xiu ya to xiu ya. The surrendering of the crown would end in a hug, and sj performing a sincere but bastardised version of the peak lord crowning ceremony before he dissipates, and the coliseum starting to crumble and burn. As for the treasure... In the distorted world, an elaborate peak lord ceremonial crown, in the real world, an old, worn hair ribbon.

If I wrote it, I'd probably keep it shorter. Just the one palace, maybe sqh awakens his persona by virtue of being squirrelly and getting on his last nerve™. I'm thinking of the 'what don't I dare when it comes to you?!' because if that isn't a persona awakening scene I don't know what is. Conquering the bamboo palace would free qj from some 'unnamable' dark cloud and just in time to push lbh in the abyss (the palace time limit bring that sjs spirit would cruelly push lbh into the abyss rather than sy doing it (and being kinder about it)).

If it was longer, more persona users would awaken, despite sqq's best attempts. Liu qingge, ning yingying, shang qinghua obviously, gongyi xiao, zhuzhi lang maybe (they'd both live). A real motley crew. There'd be more palaces along the journey, each with it's own deadline - old palace master, lbh (though his palace would have the gimmick of being actually xin mo's), tianlang Jun, qiu haitang. Sj would still be the overarching palace, this time being the only one without a deadline maybe, and the story would end with a 'not sj' reveal for the new phantom thieves (with a side order of 'we already know and care for you anyway').

A sequel would be shorter: sy visits qiong ding for the first time since its all calmed down and realises that the distortions of a palace are still there, that they weren't a product of the bamboo palace. Yqy has a palace (because you can't tell me that man is mentally well). For a side of angst maybe the sy reveal was more open secret for the need to knows rather than strictly 'whoever witnessed two identical versions of Sqq trying to kill each other' and Yqy develops the palace as a result of not taking that well.

In comparison to the others, Yqy is the strongest cultivator alive, has been sitting on a soul deep distortion and trauma for decades since childhood, recently went through a heartbreaking reveal pointed directly at every single one of those issues, and oh yeah, has his soul directly bound to xuan su.

His palace's difficulty level is nightmarish. The corrupt version of the lingxi caves is a terrifying subterranean crawl through blood soaked caverns and bottomless pits. The gimmick is that near everything wants to suck your soul out. The only saving grace is that distortions are not inherently malicious, and they manage to lever that to their advantage. Unlike the others, yqys palace does not focus on him abusing his power over others - quite the opposite, in fact.

Through murals, echoing voices, and what sy and sqh remember, they piece together his own heart demons. It's scary - outwardly, the sect leader is fine, clear headed, going about his days just fine. The bloodied caverns he sees the world through tell a different story. To gain access it's a long process of easing out stories, working through his deeply ingrained self reliance, helping him work up to confessing the truth of xuan su. Not only to xiao jius shrine, but to his closest martial siblings as well, allowing him to be vulnerable and protected as he never has been.

But Yqy follows them into the palace, curious as to why they visit his peak every day. It's unstable, very dangerous for a person to meet their shadow, but it's too late. Yqy meets his shadow self, small and furious and stuck through with a thousand swords he uses to his advantage, and does the impossible.

A palace ruler awakens a persona.

Even as a trained group, the life force powered xuan su boosted shadow is too strong - they've already failed to defeat it once. Yue qingyuan, breathing grief like air but finally ready to heal, stands for himself. Rips off the smiling mask he's been hiding behind since he was five years old and freshly a big brother. His persona is magnificent.

And just in time, too, because, uh, turns out the meta verse is the systems doing, this time. And it's evil. I'm thinking a giant brainwashing vr-esque super computer. And they defeat it with the power of friendship and also lucifer.

[bookshelfpassageway]

wish i could beam ALL the fallen london lore into my brain so i can proceed to play with my ocs in it

[jest-a-genetta]

Infinite Craft is ridiculously fun because where else am I gonna be able to shove words together until I make a "Sharktopus Cheeselizardtopus Toastler Rex"? Or "Freedom Infinity Wereabe Fries"? Fascinating jumble of words, truly.

I mean look at these! And these are just the ones no one else had put together yet!

[ochibrochi]

spontaneous magic manifestation was NOT mentioned in the parenting handbook 😬

I know this isn’t how magic in dc works, but the fact that Damian’s ancestry includes some pretty powerful magic users is… INTERESTING 🤔? Drabble under the cut!

I wanna preface that I'M NOT SAYIN' that Damian should/does have magic powers, but there’s still so much unexplored potential with Damian's character, and the thought that he has a dormant adeptness in magic is somewhat compelling to me. Most importantly it would FREAK! BRUCE! OUT!!!!! What is this, magic puberty 😭??

By DC laws, anyone has the ability to learn magic, but it is also possible to be an innate ability. The Al Ghuls are no strangers to the occult-- Ra's has had increasingly been portrayed as a magic user, and the recent establishment of his mother being a sorceress/witch?? Even Talia dabbled in a bit of magic, I think. There is a catch that their power is suggested to be due to Lazarus exposure, but for arguments sake let's say the Al Ghul lineage is inherently proficient in magic (and Lazarus exposure simply enhances it).

I can't recall "magic" being a part of Damian's training/upbringing (I'm still slowly catching-up on Damian comics so apologies if I miss any canon examples of magic use). Not sure why Talia wouldn't want her little "heir to an ancient assassin empire baby" to learn magic, but it would at least give reason to Damian not knowing about his magic potential, or lack of interest in it.

Through the power of pseudo storytelling, what if Damian's encounter with Mother Soul could have triggered a manifestation of magic that was once dormant; like a pressure cooker waiting to explode with energy when it hasn't been given a safe outlet.

I've yet to read a satisfying arc where Damian truly gets to contemplate his Al Ghul roots outside of "dad is good guy, mum is bad guy". Damian's initial character growth stems from him running away from, and renouncing his association with the League (i.e. "I'm nothing like you, mother and grandfather!").

The most recent thing I've read was Robin (2021), and whilst Damian is much more cordial with his mother, there's still an emotional distance and sense of distrust/resentment (for good reason, even if the context was some cartoonishly evil writing). But there is a silver-lining that they still appear to be fond of each other, in a melancholy kind of way.

Realizing he's "genetically" primed for magic would be especially confronting to Damian. There's no denying his Al Ghul blood, forcing him to confront a facet of himself he can no longer ignore or reject. A family that he likely has to approach for help/guidance.

Damian is put in a position of acknowledging this power could be used for good, to be stronger, to fight crime, balancing it with the implication that what he possesses could be rooted in dark magic (Lazarus enchantment).

If he decides to embrace it, would that be too much of an endorsement of the Al Ghul's dark occultism? Can he separate the two ideas? What if he can't control it? What if he accidentally hurts someone? What if has the ability to save someone where his other skills fall short?

Ideally, I'd love for this hypothetical story to lead into Damian exploring his Al Ghul heritage more intimately, historically, and spiritually (à la RSoB: Year of Redemption adventures). Another little coming-of-age self discovery journey.

I have my own little personal thoughts on what Damian decides to do with his magic powers, but I'd like to leave that open to interpretation... By the end of it I hope that he will at least find some forgiveness over resentment, and a balance between accepting that side of his family a little easier. It is finally a sense of inner peace :)

Any thoughts? Did I get any characterisation wrong? Let's talk over on my DC blog @arkhamochi! I'm currently trying to read all Damian-centric comics until I catch up with the current run. I'm hungry for discussion and analysis!!!!!!

[hannieehaee]

Imagine if SVT’s S/O has this really innocent cute soft looks but then any member seeing their gf reading this sinful smuttiest smut with straight face…

like I can’t imagine what would their reaction be🤣

18+ / mdi

their s/o reading smut

content: mentions of smut smut, mentions of reading smut in public, some teasing, etc.

wc: 571

a/n: thank u for requesting!! this took me so long sorry</3

masterlist

seungcheol -

surprised and maybe a little jealous that you read smut when you have him right here?? most of all, though, he'd scoff in amazement at not having realized you had a thing for smut. he should've known, it's always the innocent ones.

jeonghan -

this would be the greatest day of his life bc it'd mean he could fluster you with this knowledge for the rest of your lives. even if you're not flustered by it, he'd still attempt to have fun with it, always asking if you were reading smut any time he caught you with a book or device at hand.

joshua -

surprised and maybe a little scandalized. like what do you mean that's what you've been reading while lying in bed next to him?

jun -

one day he'd pick up your book/phone and start reading out of boredom, not realizing that's what he'd find. would put it down in shock before you realized he'd read it. would be surprised, not by the content, but by you reading it. won't bring it up, but will feel flustered at this new side of you.

soonyoung -

as the nosy little shit he is, i think he'd find this out by accident. maybe he'd have been reading over your shoulder or something. would literally scream into your ear when he realized the contents of your reading, scaring you in the process.

wonwoo -

he likes to read so maybe he'd join you just to try and get into your interests. deep inside him, he's a little surprised, but doesnt let it show bc he doesnt want you to stop or think he judges you for it.

jihoon -

kind of just shrugs at it. he'd acknowledge it and save it for a rainy day so he could make fun of you for it. maybe a little flustered at the thought, but the only indication of it would be some blush on his cheeks. he'd never admit to it.

seokmin -

also a little scandalized by it, maybe even a little flustered at the thought. would be super curious by it, though, wondering if maybe you'd be interested in bringing some of it to life.

mingyu -

scandalized as fuck! would maybe even scold you if he ever caught you reading it out in public bc that's reserved for the bedroom only!! it'd be entirely lighthearted in nature, hiding his shock at the discovery through teasing.

minghao -

scoffs in amazement. he thought he had you all figured out, but this was a surprising development. wouldn't really judge you, though. i feel like he'd even want to read some of it.

seungkwan -

reacts at it so loudly and so embarrassingly. he makes up for your lack in reaction to the contents of the smut, completely scandalized that his sweet innocent s/o could read something like that and remain unaffected all while he blushed at reading such thing in public.

vernon -

finds it amusing and maybe even cute. idk something about you reading such thing in public without really showing any type of reaction to it would be adorable to him. you didn't look the type, so he'd be positively surprised at the discovery.

chan -

would try to mock you to hide his flustered state lmao. he'd find it hot that you're so unaffected by it. he usually left such content for when he was alone, and boy did he always have a big reaction to it.

[acstation206]

I messed up. /j

Introducing...

THE AMAZING DIGITAL ARCADE PARTY!

Yeah, that's right, I caved in.

Basically the exact same show except its established lore and setting is more largely inspired by archive compilations of popular vintage arcade games of the 80s and 90s such as Pac-Man’s Arcade Party, as well as the different takes within the sci-fi / fantasy genre by the likes of Wreck-It Ralph, Tron: Legacy, and Infinity Train. 

==

= BACKGROUND (in a nutshell) 💿 =

In an attempt to save their dying business, C&A developed and manufactured the first hybrid arcade game of its own kind that combined other popular arcade games and home console games with virtual reality. However, just as the company’s luck was turning around, numerous lawsuits from game companies by the likes of Nintendo and families were filed against the company for their product, from apparently “ripping-off” Super Mario Bros. in its entirety to causing many children to either inexplicably fall unconscious or suffer from amnesia after the cabinet’s headset was put on. Just then, as C&A announced they’ll be temporarily recalling the product to fix its issues, a shocking discovery was already made by investigators that would soon bring the company to its demise: the game’s AI had gone rogue, and once a human mind dies from losing one of the games in any way, they are either permanently reincarnated as a personified cartoon character of themselves or just straight up die in real-life depending on the outcome.

==

= ART N’ STUFF 🎨 =

(might wanna make a separate masterpost for that in the future but oh well)

NES Ragatha

Pomni and Caine redesigns

==

= Q&As and BOUNDARIES (sort of) 🎙️ =

"Are there any plans to make a full webcomic out of this?" - Uhhhh, mayyybe? I'm not entirely sure, honestly. While there may be a few side comics and artwork from my head I want to get out sometime, I don't really have much plans for this AU that'll be worth telling a full story right now since I feel there is plenty of things that I've yet to figure out and develop in a matter of time, particularly the setting and characters (especially considering the OG show itself has only 2 episodes out as of writing and I only have mobile apps like ibisPaint X to make this all possible at the moment).

"Can I make fanfics and OCs for this AU?" - Of course! I've seen a lot of incredible things from the community, especially in regards to alternate universes, so you're absolutely more than welcome to share whatever's on your mind as long as your heart's in the right place. I can't really guarantee I'll see every bit of it since I do have some personal biz of mine to take care of at any moment, but I'll be happy to reblog them whenever I get the chance. Just tag me and we all good. :)

"Are there any canon ships in this AU?" - Yes. Yes, there are. Well, only BunnyDoll (Jax x Ragatha) to be specific. HOWEVER, you are free to ship whoever you want here! Showtime (Caine x Pomni), ButtonBlossom (Pomni x Ragatha), it's all okay. The choice is yours, a romantic buffet! (Plus, depending on the quality of my writing, I'm not even planning to dwell too much into it for now, aside from the side comics that will.)

==

That's all for right now. Enjoy! :)

[moonstruckme]

poly!marauders x drunk!reader at a party and reader needy but they don’t want to help reader because they don’t want to do anything when reader basically unconscious of what’s happening because reader is drunk. So they try to explain to reader that they will gladly take care of them after they get better and go to bed. Thank you!

Thanks for requesting!

cw: alcohol, explicit themes/language (? like no smut just want of smut haha)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

At some point, your boyfriends had evidently decided that you’re not to be let out of sight. You’ve tried to go get another drink on several occasions, but no matter who you talk to, you always seem to end up right back on the Longbottom’s settee with one of the three of them. Now they’ve fixed you in Sirius’ lap, his hands spread firm and possessive over the curves of your hips to keep you from running off. Every time he shifts his leg even a little, the heat in your core intensifies. 

Now, he laughs at something someone says, body rumbling like a motor underneath yours, and you nearly whimper. You lean back until your head is on his shoulder. 

“Siri,” you murmur into his ear, “let’s go upstairs.” 

He turns his head into yours, smirking. “We are upstairs, sweet thing.” 

Oh. “Well, can we go somewhere else?” 

“Why, honey?” Sirius’ voice is smooth as always, and now it runs over your skin like velvet. You could almost shiver. “You bored?” 

You lean away just slightly so you can look him in the eyes, keeping your voice low. “I wanna fuck.” 

You watch surprise, then delight, and finally chagrin play one after the other over your boyfriend’s features. He presses a chaste kiss to the skin under your ear, repentant. “I wish I could,” he tells you, breath fanning over your neck and giving you goosebumps, “but it’ll have to wait.” 

“Why?” you whine. 

From the other side of the couch, James sends you an inquisitive look at the sound. Sirius pats your thigh consolingly. “It just will, baby. I’ll take care of you tomorrow, yeah? Let it go for now.” 

You don’t think you will. 

You start squirming in Sirius’ lap, trying to turn around so you can kiss him but not quite coordinated enough to manage it. As it turns out, your fidgeting is enough. His hold tightens on your hips, and he leans forward, murmuring a quiet “behave” into your ear. 

Your cunt pulses. Galvanized by this discovery, you repeat your new tactic, shuffling around on your boyfriend’s lap until his grip is punishing. You can feel the shape of his rings through the material of your bottoms. Sirius growls, and James’ head pops into view once again. 

“What’s going on over there?” he asks. 

“Sirius is being mean to me,” you whine before your boyfriend can get a word in. “He won’t let me move.” 

“I’ll bet.” James eyes Sirius’ flustered countenance, beckoning for you. “Come here, babydoll.” 

Sirius releases you into James hold. You notice him crossing his legs as soon as you’re away. James takes his boyfriend's trials as a cautionary tale, tucking you into his side rather than sitting you on his lap. 

“You’re in a troublesome mood, aren't you?” he asks fondly, rubbing up and down your arm. 

“M’not,” you object. “Sirius was just being mean. I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Mhm.” His disbelieving hum purrs through your bones. 

You cozy up to James, looking at him through your lashes. The material of his jumper feels nice against your cheek. “You’ll help me, won’t you?” 

He laughs raucously. You’re about to scowl, but he pecks you on the crown of your head, saving himself. “Just to be clear, are you asking me to fuck you in Alice and Frank’s new house while you’re sloppy drunk?” 

You nod impatiently. 

“Yeah, that’s not happening, darling.” He delivers another kiss to the top of your head to soften the blow. “But I do think I can persuade Remus to take us all home, how about that?” 

Just as quickly as disappointment takes root inside you, hope blooms in its stead. You smile so hugely your ear pops. “Yes, please,” you tell James. 

He squeezes your upper arm affectionately before leaning over, conveying something to Remus with a look that you might normally be able to interpret but currently can’t be bothered to. They’re going to take you home. You know what that means. There, you can fuck louder and nastier and longer than you ever would’ve been able to if you were trying to be discrete in the Longbottom’s spare bedroom. You can’t get there fast enough. 

James stands you up, and there’s a flurry of goodbyes and niceties as your boyfriends shepherd you out the door. Or, you know they must all be with you, but it’s sort of hard to keep track of three people at once. You’re not completely sure whose hand is on your forearm as you descend the steps outside, or who wrestles you into their jacket when you shiver at the brisk night air. You lean contentedly into the loving touches regardless. 

Eventually, it’s Sirius who gets you settled in the backseat, worriedly making Remus take your hands in his so you don’t stick them in the door when he closes it. 

“You don’t think you’re going to be sick?” he asks, and you have the vague impression he’d been upset with you not long ago, but you can’t recall what for and there’s none of that in his demeanor now. He tucks a stray hair behind your ear, lips pursed. “I can run back in and get a bag for the car ride.” 

“No, m’fine.” You sit up extra straight to prove it, cheesing at him. “I’m excited to go home.” 

Sirius snickers and closes your door, but Remus cocks an eyebrow at you. 

“What exactly do you think is going to happen when we get home?” he asks. 

“We’re gonna fuck,” you say brightly. 

In the driver’s seat, James barks out a laugh at your crass language. Remus darts a look his way, looking like he might be biting back a smile of his own. 

“Dove,” he says, “we’re not doing that tonight. We’re going to have some water and go to sleep.” You must look crushed, because his smile turns near pitying. “You’re too drunk, sweetheart.” 

“But I want to,” you say brokenly. 

“If you wake up tomorrow feeling better, you can have whatever you want.” 

From the front seat, Sirius says, “I’ve tried to tell her this.” 

You make a plaintive whining sound, and Remus reaches around your face, pulling your head down to rest on his shoulder consolingly. “You’re being so mean to me,” you lament. 

“Oh, I know,” he coos, patting your hair. “M’the worst.”

[zyk1ng]

I was gonna make this post way way earlier but I forgot lol but Uhm

I have played through the splatoon 2 story fully and am replaying it (for a future post bc a lot of the dialogue is rlly funny) and honestly while I absolutely loved it it makes me even sadder that splat 2’s story mode was kinda tossed aside (for valid reasons ofc) because it’s so Cool.

Excluding the gameplay, I think they did marie so well, because she sells the desperation of someone who’s got nobody she knows by her side. While she of course keeps the sassy attitude of sneak dissing her best friends (agent 3) and also telekinetically telling you to fuck off if you talk to her too much it’s very clear she genuinely cares so much about agent 4 and is so grateful they’re doing what they do.

these are only two screenshots of 8(?) of Marie randomly being really sentimental to 4 because this stranger chose to help her in her time of need rather than just ignore this GROWN WOMAN hanging out on a sewer drain

It’s like heavily emphasized multiple times that Marie could not be more grateful for 4’s help in retrieving not just the zapfish but also her cousin.

But then revealing that 4 knew about Callie the WHOLE TIME (I have a lot to say about this part but it’s mostly hc so) which is so KIND OF THEM???? this random woman recruits them into a secret military agency and hides the fact she rlly misses her cousin but they help anyway bc they WANT TO. (They didn’t even know either of them were famous btw) Marie shows a lot of gratitude toward 4 ESPECIALLY after the big reveal.

(You could make arguments for 3 being similar bc an old kook made them do it but this isn’t about them..)

And it’s not just being grateful for the one time, she genuinely enjoys 4’s company and wants to be better friends with them and chat after the zapfish and Callie are saved 😭😭😭

It’s so cute too, because 100%ing the game and even just being a little nosy is something that Marie picks up on, and remembers way later in the game. (More abt this later)

god I love this socially inept squid woman and her adopted child soldier that likes finding pieces of paper

Speaking of said soldier! I think the way they characterized 4 via the actual gameplay rather than art/statements/whatever is so cool

4 doesn’t have many illustrations besides the chaos splatfest and that one group photo where they’re being funky in the corner (and the apartment) but I feel like the reason for that is the fact that a lot of Marie’s dialogue as well as how splatoon 2’s hero mode is structured/designed speaks a lot about how they wanted to represent 4.

From a realistic standpoint, of course splatoon 2’s story mode has to be more creative both prompt wise and secret wise. But it feels like the reason its that way is because both 4 and Marie are separate types of people from Craig and 3.

The bosses help a lot with this too, being more gimmicky and weird (subtracting stamp.) Octo shower and samurai being bosses where you have to either react well or change your positioning to effectively beat them. (Octo shower is my fave btw I loved fighting it the first time)

The level design also shines in this aspect because if I’m honest I remember none of the splat 1 levels significantly besides the few octoling ones. Splatoon 2’s levels are very detailed (and also insanely pretty) and have some rlly fun puzzles in a handful of them and even the more fast ones are a blast to play through

And then all the little extras (sardiniums and scrolls alike) are hidden so well and you usually have to go out of your way to find them and even the secrets that aren’t either of those things have substance

Small note, a lot of extras are also made so that it flows well with the levels design (like the first dualie request mission) which is also extremely fucking cool.

the way marie touches on those little discoveries is so smart too because it (as I said before) characterizes 4 as someone who loves to look for things even if it’s on a whim especially since the sunken scrolls in the game are so much harder to find than in splat1.

And the fact that unlike splat 1, you can (technically) 800% the game by playing EVERY SINGLE LEVEL WITH EVER SINGLE WEAPON TYPE. to me it feels like it deepens the fact that 4 likes to be really thorough. marie goes “you have a problem.” When you break like two hidden egg crates in this one level and it’s so great.

I love what they’ve done with 4, whether it was intentional or I’m over-analytical.

Nothing gets past them, looking in every nook and cranny whether or not there’s secrets to be found. They’re too nosy and thorough and they like to be around marie after completing missions, they don’t know who the squid sisters are, hate balloons, may or may not be ok, have impulsive secret finding, partake in many extracurriculars, can be needy at times, go with the flow and they apparently smell better than agent 3.

Agent four, of the New Squidbeak Splatoon.

[itsswritten]

teeny tiny

Pairing: Fairy reader x Azriel

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: Azriel practices dwindling with you. (Just some fluff, mutual pining, pre bond snapping)

Wings Universe - read more from this couple here.

Azriel was watching you intently, a soft smile spread on his lips as his gaze danced across your expression. You were so passionate when you spoke about your work– your duty as a fairy. 

A stark difference to how he felt about being an Illyrian.

But knowing you now for only a year, you had softened that perspective he had for his own heritage. Purely by how dedicated you were to yours, and how you lit up whenever you got to speak about it. Naturally, when getting to know the IC you had wanted to learn everything about the Illyrians, everything about the sisters, about Amren. Every finer detail.

That warm nature of yours, got even the most reserved opening themselves up to you. You were always genuinely interested too, mesmerised in the differences and similarities you found among your new friends. You would never scrimp on compliments either, lovely words rolling off your tongue in awe when Cassian had explained some Illyrian lore. You even went as far to admit that you’d always thought the dark winged fae looked very cool and fierce. 

Azriel could vividly remember the heat filling your cheeks one evening at Rita’s when you’d admitted that, the faerie wine offering you some liquid courage. The comment had gone straight to Cassian’s head, prancing round Rita’s flexing in front of Nesta with a stealthy look, posing for her. “Look how fierce I look, Nes,” Nesta only rolled her eyes.

Azriel, though, had kept that comment. Tucked it away in the corner of his mind that he saved purely for you. A space filled with compliments from you, mentions of the things you loved, or observations of when he thought you looked especially beautiful– which truly was everyday. That corner of his mind was slowly growing by the day, bit by bit consuming him more and more. But he didn’t mind. For every new area you occupied in his consciousness, it replaced something dark instead. Those nightmares became few and far between after you entered his life, and he felt lighter, brighter. 

A mark that could only be left by a radiant individual– you.

Ever since he’d met you, he was absolutely smitten. There was a magnetic charge between you both, that just couldn’t keep him away. He was like a moth to a light, fluttering so dangerously close that if he wasn’t careful he might just burn. 

But he couldn’t stop. Despite the risk of it all, the risk of you burning his desires down. The obvious rejection you would undoubtedly give him if his feelings ever became known. So he settled for friendship, in fact savoured in it. He welcomed the friendly banter and familiar touches you so kindly offered him, but sometimes he dared to imagine…selfishly letting himself wonder, if he was to confess, would it really all go up in flames?…or would a warm glow await him instead.

Azriel began to look for the good parts of his own culture, an excuse to be able to share something with you. Little anecdotes of younger years with his brothers, the plants that grew in the harsh terrain of Ramiel, and what creatures may lurk in those mountains. Something Azriel noticed had piqued your interest. 

He found you numerous times after that in the library with Nesta and Gwyn, looking through bestiaries and field journals. Your commitment to the land and its creatures never wavering. You had found old scriptures, thousands of years old, of rare creatures that roamed the Illyrian land. Feline-like beasts that apparently once lived among Illyrians as their companions, a familiar of sorts. You had practically barged into Azriel’s room one evening when you had unearthed this new information, kneeled on his bed sharing this new discovery word for word as you read the translated version Gwyn had given you. 

“We’ll have to go look for them Az,” You had beamed, “It’ll be like an adventure, and well I could write it off as work too seeing as technically this falls under my jurisdiction.” 

Azriel had never cared much for his own culture and myths, actually, had rather hated every aspect of it. But somehow, watching you find the beauty between the cracks changed something in him. Over time the dismal opinion he had of Illyrians and that part of himself, paired with the progression in the camps had made a slight difference.

Today though, today, you were sharing even more of your world.

“So I thought, you know with you already being able to winnow you would grasp this the easiest” you smiled at Az.

You had brought him to the edge of one of the night court meadows you usually worked at. Elain had asked to join you on a day's work for the spring season, once confessing she wished the cauldron had turned her into a fairy just like you. You had told her she was perfect the way she was, exactly who she was supposed to be, and promised her anyone of any kind was welcome in the meadows. 

What was supposed to be a fun girls day with Elain had quickly snowballed into a field trip, the rest of the inner circle adamant they had to come too. But if your friends couldn’t master the art of dwindling then they would not be permitted in the meadows. Rhys and Feyre were fine, that unlimited pot of power they both possessed actually meant you’d caught them several months ago, rolling around in a flower enjoying some quality time together. You’re not sure who was more embarrassed, yourself or Feyre when Rhys clumsily fell out of a flower bell stark naked covered in pollen.

Before the others would be allowed to cross the threshold of the meadows you would need to teach them first.

“Dwindling is a lot like winnowing, how you move yourself to a different space. Or even how your shadows move you through space. It’s essentially the same, but it’s the space within you that’s moving…well smaller.” 

Your hands had been spread wide in your explanation, bringing them closer together as if your movement were perfectly representing how it worked. Your brows furrowed though, as Azriel looked at you with a soft dazed expression. Almost glassy eyed with a dumb smile on his mouth.

“Are you even listening to me Az?” Your tone felt stern leaving your lips. A little huff following after, that got his shadows moving in a giddy manner. It wasn’t just Azriel that found you utterly adorable, but his shadows too had a hard time hiding how your expressions caused a stir in them.

How they basked in your laughter, grew agitated in your discomfort or selfishly, liked to relish in your charming pouts.

Azriel quickly shook his head, as if shaking himself from the daze you so often ensnared him in, “I’m always listening,” he promised.

You rolled your bottom lip through your teeth gently, pausing for a moment to take in his words. How it had struck a ripple through your body, that often created butterflies in your stomach. Glancing up through your lashes you took your friend in, his large strong frame towering over you, never in an intimidating way. No, his presence, however daunting to others, always filled you with safety and comfort you hadn’t felt around many. And there were those beautiful hazel eyes that often reminded you of the sunrise after you’d worked the night shift. Golden rays breaking through the midnight blanket, spilling hazel threads into petals of blue.

Maybe one day you would tell him how when the sky filled with ribbons of gold and sapphire, that you only thought of him.

Quickly you stopped yourself from falling into your own daze, remembering his passing words. 

I’m always listening. 

That he was. So attentive, so kind, you’re not sure what you did to deserve the friendship of the Shadowsinger. You continued on, brushing over how genuine his words sounded. Rummaging around in your bag you pulled out a pouch of fairy dust.

“This amplifies your power, makes it easier to shrink. Should also help with the nausea,” you muttered, now choosing to ignore the way his eyes seemed to drink you up.

It was getting increasingly hard to disregard the effect the Shadowsinger had on you. He was so beautiful, so pretty– in that rugged Illyrian way. And he was very thoughtful too, and there was the way he said things to you sometimes that made it hard not to assume it meant more. Every word felt like a whispered kiss or unspoken promise, that you found yourself at times hoping, and daydreaming that perhaps it did mean something deeper.

Sprinkling the dust over Azriel, his nose scrunched a little at the scent. So familiar, he realised it reminded him of you. That lingering scent of fairy dust was always on you, mixed with vanilla and hints of honey, an underlying breeze of peonies. Your scent alone was enough to enchant him, enough to know he would be dreaming of you again tonight. His consciousness would slip him into a blissful haze of what it would be like to envelope himself in the crook of your neck and laze in your aroma.

Gently you took his hands into yours, his ragged hands engulfing your own. 

Azriel couldn’t help notice the stark contrast. How perfect and soft you were, delicate and light. He was rough and weathered around the edges, hardened by war and conflict. A gentle squeeze from you pulled him from his thoughts, realising how close you were now, he would only have to lean down slightly to bridge the gap between you. So close he could press his lips to top of your head and–

As if brushing that thought from his mind, his shadows moved towards you. Brushing a strand of hair from your face, while the other tendrils wove through the air in between you both like a dance.

“Are you ready Az? Remember everything I taught you?”

He nodded. 

Channelling his power in the technique you had shown him, his eyes fluttered shut. Honing in on the warmth of your hands and the faint sound of the breeze. His siphons simmered a glow as vibrations of power and space moved over the sharp lines and angles of his body, retracting and restricting the space within.

The air sounded different all of a sudden.

Vibrations growing louder, rustles becoming more powerful. Slowly Azriel opened his eyes, looking down at you, standing as you were before. He questioned if he’d even managed to do it, but as he glanced up he saw the tall green vertebrae of the grass tower above. The strands gently swaying in the wind, allowing the morning sun to filter through and cast viridescent shadows across the earth.

He had done it. He had dwindled.

The air was filled with a symphony of sounds, the song of crickets and the gentle rustling of the grass in the wind. Butterflies flitted by, leaving a gentle gust of wind in their wake. They were larger than him now, and he could vividly see the intricate designs and colours that lay on their wings.

“Az? Azriel are you okay? How do you feel?”

He hadn’t even realised you were talking, not until your hand gently pressed against the side of his face. Your thumb tracing the line of his jaw, as you looked up to him in concern.

“I feel fine,” he replied, finally remembering to take a breath as your touch left him.

“No nausea? You looked a little peaky for a moment, I was worried,”

Your remaining hand had slipped from his gentle grip, a simmer in his chest wishing it would remain. But Azriel unfurled his wings, stretching the dark membranes out, distributing his weight onto either feet to check his balance. 

“Okay…” You smiled then, “This went better than I thought, you know it’s Cassian I’m most worried about. I just have a feeling he’ll sneeze himself into a giant or something,”

“Wait, is that possible?”

“No, or at least I don’t think so. But somehow I could see it happening with Cass,” You laughed. The angelic waves of your laughter pulled up the corners of his lips as he let out a chuckle.

Oh Azriel could stay in this moment forever. Just the two of you, no one else in sight for miles.The sun basking it’s glow upon you both. Your laughter faded into a comfortable silence before you closed your eyes, head tilting up towards the sun as the rays washed over your face. 

Azriel thanked the Mother again for the blessings he had received since knowing you, because this moment right here– to be with you was surely one.

“Y/n…” Azriel couldn’t help breathe your name out, it barely a whisper as words he kept tucked in that corner of his mind seemed to pile into his mouth.

Gently your eyes fluttered open, your expression turning to him with a light hum in question. But before he could even untangle the mess of confessions on his tongue, a shadow loomed above.

With a slight jump, you hastily stepped back, colliding into the tough warm frame of the Shadowsinger, craning your neck up to see what had cast such a darkness.

A shadow– Azriel’s shadow.

The smokey tendril seemed to loom over you both inquisitively. It’s movements speaking of a curiosity to how its master was now so tiny.

“There’s always one,” Azriel grumbled, his hand tenderly moving to the small of your back for a moment as he stepped to your side.

Azriel crossed his arms across his chest, his expression boring on unimpressed as he glanced up at the disobedient wisp.

“You’ve got no excuse,” Azriel chastised, referring to the other shadows that had obediently followed an appropriate size to him after dwindling. 

The shadow slumped a little in response, eliciting a small gasp from you at how utterly adorable you found it. As if remembering you were there the shadow turned it’s attention. Azriel’s earlier command to resize itself held no authority but it quickly slinked itself slightly smaller for you. It’s size resembled something of Azriel’s shape as it twirled around you making the layers of your dress flutter up in the wind.

“Oh my…” Your cheeks heated a rosy hue as you attempted to hold your dress down in the gust of air.

“Sorry about that,” Azriel heaved, his patience growing thin as he tried to hide his slight embarrassment at his unruly shadow.

“It’s quite alright Azriel,” you reassured him with a light chuckle, the smile on your lips easing him. The use of his full name, raising goosebumps on his skin.

It wasn’t the only thing your smile eased, the shadow, as if melting under you, softened like honey. Oozing back behind Azriel’s wings in a dazed infatuation.

“Come,” you took Azriel’s hand in yours. Pulling him gently through the blades of green. “You should settle in this size for a while, make sure everything feels okay before we return,”

Azriel watched your fingers interlock with his, the smaller wisps of his shadows winding around your joined hands. Whispering words to one another that he couldn’t hear. 

He swallowed hard, once, twice taking in the view before him. Your usual pink dress dipping to the small of your back, taut flawless skin kissed under the sun as you pulled him through the green. No wings on show, though.

He wondered when you would share that part of you…if ever. 

Azriel would never ask, but he hoped one day you trusted him enough.

That he would be so lucky. But as you glanced back over your shoulder, sending him a soft smile that seemed to bury itself deep into his chest. He pondered, if for only a moment, that perhaps he was lucky.

a/n: just a little instalment from your favourite couple! <3 What else do you want to see from them?? (Other than flower sex , I promise this is coming👀)

forever tags: @lilah-asteria @illyrianbitch @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @marscardigan

Wings tags: @minaethrym

[maybe-boys-do-love]

It's wild that the whole global trend of gay-focused happy ending romance shows and movies has only been going on for *looks at calendar* a measly ten years!

Just ten years ago. 2014. That's when you get the discovery of a market for queer romance series and films with happy endings. That year the OG Love Sick in Thailand came out. Brazil puts out The Way He Looks, which deserves so much more credit than it receives for influencing the aeshtetics of the genre. Looking premieres on HBO, and despite low ratings, it's an important touchstone. South Korea has the darker Night Flight. And, despite Nickelodeon’s censorship and shifting the program from tv to its website, the Legend of Korra confirms Korrasami in its season finale.

The next year, in 2015, we get Love Sick season 2, and China, pre-censorship laws has a few options: Happy Together (not the Wong Kar Wai one lol), Mr. X and I, and Falling In Love with a Rival. Canada, premieres Schitt's Creek. In the US, Steven Universe reveals Garnet as a romantic fusion between two female characters, and will proceed to just be so sapphic. Norwegian web series Skam premieres and sets up a gay protagonist for its third season, which will drop in 2016 and entirely change the global media landscape.

Then, 2016! This is the MOMENT. That aforementioned Skam season happens. Japan puts out the film version of Ossan's Love and anime series Yuri!!! on Ice. China has the impactful Addicted Heroine, which directly leads to increased censorship. The US has Moonlight come out and take home the Oscar. In Thailand, GMMTV enters the BL game and Thai BL explodes: Puppy Honey, SOTUS, Water Boyy, Make It Right, plus, the Thai Gay OK Bangkok, which, like its influence, Looking, is more in the queer tradition but introduces two dramatically important directors to the Thai BL industry, Aof and Jojo.

By 2017, Taiwan enters the game with its History series. Korea’s BL industry actually kicks off with Method and Long Time No See. Thailand’s got too many BLs to mention. Call Me By Your Name, though not a happy ending, makes a big splash that will send ripples through the whole genre, and God's Own Country offers a gruff counter-argument to problematic age differences and twink obsessions. This is also the year of Netflix reboot of One Day At a Time bringing some wlw to the screen, and the Disney Channel has a main character come out as ‘gay’ on Andi Mack ( I’m am ready to throw fists with anyone who thinks the Disney Channel aesthetic isn’t a part of current queer culture). And I'd be remiss not to mention the influential cult-following of chaotic web-series The Gay and Wondrous Life of Caleb Gallo: "Sometimes things that are expensive...are worse."

All this happened, and we hadn’t even gotten to Love, Simon, Elite, or ITSAY, yet.

Prior to all this there are some major precursors some of which signaled and primed a receptive market, others influenced the people who'd go on to create the QLs. Most significantly you have Glee, and its ending really makes way for the new era that can center gay young people in a world where queerness, due to easy access to digital information, is less novel to the characters. And the QL book and graphic novel landscape was way ahead of the television and film industries, directly creating many of the stories that the latter industries used.

There's plenty of the traditional queer media content (tragic melodramas and independent camp comedies) going on prior to and alongside QL, and there are some outlying queer romance films with happy endings that precede the era but feel very much akin to QL genre tropes and goals (Saving Face, The Wedding Banquet, Big Eden, Maurice, My Beautiful Launderette, and Weekend). I don't mean to suggest that everything I’ve listed ought to be categorized as QL.

Rather, I want to point out how all of these new-era queer romance works are in a big queer global conversation together, in the creation of a new contemporary genre, a genre that has more capacity and thematic interest to include digital technology and normalize cross-cultural relationships than other genres (there's a reason fansubs and web platforms are so easily accepted and integrated to the proliferation genre).

You're not too late to be part of the conversation. Imagine being alive in the 1960s and 70s and participating in the blossoming of the sci-fi genre. That flowering is where gay romance sits now. Join the party.

[velvet-paradox]

Oops!

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female reader Summary: you accidently call Simon while taking care of yourself. (got inspo from lovi on twitter) Length: Medium Warnings: NSFW 21+ ONLY, strong language, explicit content, porn with very little plot female masturbation, male masturbation, descriptive actions, anal mentions, toy mentions, A LOT of dirty talking, detailed smut. ENJOY!!!

It's not that his phone is ringing in the middle of the night. It's not even the fact he'd just finally drifted off to sleep either. When he fumbled and grumbled, (of course he was grumbling) Simon Riley wrote the book on the Art of the Grumble you were certain, he was just relieved it wasn't Price. He was exhausted and was thisfuckingclose to telling the captain to pound sand if he had to pull another fifteen hour shift on base!

But no, it was not captain Price and it wasn't Johnny either. The screen of his phone stark white, taunting him in the dark of his room, as the time and your name and picture popped up. The one he'd taken of you and König in Vienna.

What was this about now? Simon huffed, dark blonde brows forming together. You better not be calling him from the bar again, needing a ride home, not trusting anyone else to swoop in to the drunken rescue. You saved money on Uber's and he got to look after you.

WIn - win.

" 'ello bird, what is it this time?"

Silence.

"Foxy, come on now, it's late. If you need a ride jus--"

"Oh yeah, oh that feels so good." You said through your teeth, hissing from a bit of a distance. What was that? Were you getting laid? Jesus H. You sounded breathless, out of it until some more rustling and now your voice wasn't so clouded in mystery.

You whined out something fierce which both confused and interested to the masked devil.

"Fox, can you hear me? Bird answer m--"

Another low whine followed by a low and quiet buzzing. "Oh fuck, I wish you were here. Oh fuck that feels so good, bet you would have a fucking ball using this one me. Oh Simon… please!"

He sat up quickly, his ear to the phone burning hot, a blush of discovery rising through his naked body, Ghost ran hot most nights, even in the winter months and said fuck it about four years ago and slept nude. Either you were having a decent fucking shag with another man named Simon, or you were thinking about him.

Well what have we here, you little sly little fox?

"So glad I got that princess plug, this feels amazing. Oh Simon, if you only knew, if you only fucking knew the things I want from you. What I'd let you do to me, what I want -oohhh fuck too much too much--" you cried and the buzzing stopped abruptly. You were panting and humming and without a second thought Simon's hand was stroking his waking cock through his sheets.

And just what did you want him to do? Simon bit his lip as he listened in, pulling his phone away only for a moment, making sure the volume was at it's highest before he put it on speaker.

"O-oh god, yeah. I don't wanna' cum again just yet! Want you to tease me, tie me up and make a mess. Mmmm maybe you'd make me clean it up too. I'd ride your fucking boots if you asked!"

Oh. Simon was not expecting that sentence or the filthy way you moaned, satisfied with saying it out loud.

"Can I? Can I L.T. can I ride your boots, I'll clean up m-my mess, I promise. Mmm, sitting under desk, your personal desk bunny you're," you really started breathing hard then, whimpering as he could now make out a wet, splotching sort of noise. Oh fuck- you were fingering yourself now. "Your fucktoy. Oh god! Yeah, I wanna' be your little fuck toy. Use me. Use my mouth, use my fucking pussy, I am so wet right now, oh shit!" You giggled wetly to yourself, gasping and Simon could only imagine you adding another finger into your spongy hole.

A fucktoy? boot riding? a plug in your asshole with fingers in your cunt? You were a nasty, freaky little thing. Oh this was better than any video he had watched recently! Interactive as he continued to stroke himself with you, the sheet had earned a wet pre-cum spot and had to be pulled away, Simon put his head down and spat on his cock, smearing his saliva around the girthy crown of it.

You were a dirty girl.

He loved it.

You were demure in the halls, paid close attention to detail, slick and sly when you need be, hence your call sign being Fox. You were quiet but funny, witty and no one had a bad word to drop about about you. Your lore on how you ended up with the 141 was something of legend, a myth that one day you just appeared like an apparition and no one questioned why. Just roll with it. You didn't cause trouble, kept your nose down but you knew things about each team member that soldiers could only dream of knowing. A book of secrets. Clearly.

Simon chuckled darkly to himself all the things you could come up with, possibly thing he hadn't even heard of. Simon wasn't into the BDSM scene, he knew a variety of knots of course but to use them on someone, never given the opportunity. As he spat on his cock again, the image of your face appeared. Maybe you liked to be spat on in too. The cute little whimpers and gasps you were doing on your end might suggest you like a lot more than just spit.

"Simon please! Bet you feel good, I know y-you're big, you'd stretch me out. Make me gape for you, oh fuck that's so hot!" You're erratic, your sheets are rubbing together faster and you're now on the verge of squealing like a stuck piglet. "Hold me down, pull my hair, those big fucking hands of yours on me, in me. Oh baby, finger me nice and deep, deeper than I can reach."

You wanted him so desperately and that made the lieutenant fuck his fist faster, slippery and noisy and wet. His hard cock just sloppily going up and down his shaft, he squeezed the mushroom cap like head of it, felt himself jerk and twitch before going hands free. Slapping it against his messy palm.

"Talk me through it baby, tell me what to do, how to do it. How fast, how slo-ow, oh yeah that's nice. Oh fuck I can feel it coming, I'm gonna' cum again. Shit." You grunted and made the most delicious sound Simon had ever heard in his whole damn life.

You were moaning, tapping the gem of the plug if he were correct.

Tap tap, tap tap.

"Oh yeah! Fuck my ass, finger my pussy, make me cum. Make me squirt, shoot your fat fucking load all over my face. I'll be your best girl, I swear it I swear it! I'm gonna' cum if I pull this out now." You cried, panting to your little hearts' desire. Simon was close too, he did his best to match your moans and sobs of pleasure, planting his feet and bucking his defined hips.

"I'd cum just about anywhere on ya', Foxy." Simon grunted quietly to himself. "Foxy fucktoy. Mmmm that does 'ave a bit of a ring to it, aye? Bad fuckin' girl."

You slapped something then. Your face, a tit perhaps, your pussy but you were whining and carrying on and Simon had to shut his eyes, imagining you working the princess plug in and out.

Oh for fucks' sake, he'd sell his left nut to see your pretty face, worn out, fucked out, in bliss and pleasure, sticking your pink tongue out. Eyes rolled back as you continued to fuck your fingers in tandem with his own fist.

"Gonna' cum oh shit, I'm gonna' cum again. For you. Only for you, sir!" He could hear your sloppy fingers plunging in and out of you pussy, faster and faster, louder and louder you became.

"Oh fuck yes, Simon! Yes, sir!"

You came with a shout, groaning and grunting behind your teeth. You sounded absolutely feral, pornographic. He couldn't hold it back any longer either, Simon bit into his cheek and came into his hand, it shot up and onto his stomach, muscles tight as he coaxed the last dribbling bits of cum onto his skin. He gave his palm a 'good game' type slap with his cock, laying back further into his pillows.

God damn.

"Fuck that was good. If only, if only you were here mmmm." You finally huffed out. You rolled over, to whatever side of your bed or maybe just readjusted yourself and your toys but he heard a clank of something and then your voice, clear as day. "What the fuck…oh my god. Oh no! Oh please don't be a voice note!"

Simon had to chuckle at your change in attitude.

"Oh for the love of… please be asleep. Pleasepleaseplease L.T. be asleep. I didn't mean to call --"

"On the contrary love," Simon held up his phone to his mouth, he heard you gasp on the other end. "I heard every last word and you sounded so damn fine. Bet you're glowing after coming so damn hard," you scrambled for words on your line, mumbling out a sorry excuse for an apology. He clicked his teeth at you like one would a horse. "Ah ah, Foxy. If there's a green Post-it on my door when I wake, your wish will be my command. And I am often fond of those aren't, Fox?"

"Very much so, sir."

"That's a girl. Now why don't you go get cleaned up and get some rest. Depending on your answer, soldier, you just might need it."

Simon chuckled to himself when he rose that morning, his entire door was covered with little green Post-its and none were the wiser when you passed each other in the mess hall.

[cupidkenji]

Doctor, Doctor, please listen!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Tension (I tried), cursing, the smallest physical description of reader in the last portion (just mentions their stomach going over their pants), reader has scars from previous cases, rivals to lovers?, lmk if i'm missing smth Summary: 3 times you called him doctor, 3 times he wonders why. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but I don't really ever describe their bodies that much cause it's x READER and every body has a different body <3 WC: 3,596 I am literally so obsessed with criminal minds somebody save my soul OBLIVOUS IDIOTS WHO WANT EACH OTHER MY BELOVED. Title from mad hatter by Melanie Martinez don't even @ me for that

1.

“...she will be an important part of making your team function quicker. We fought hard to get her here. I ask that you all treat her with respect and not make me intervene.” 

Strauss finished her introductory spiel with a familiar “mom-glare” towards the team, walking away once she finished her speech. Unfortunately, her departure left you standing alone in front of the most intimidating man you’ve ever seen and four of his team members. You had been practically still until now. You hated the pressure of everyone’s eyes on you, causing a general freeze response to the stress of a new team. Fawn, you thought, the newest addition to the fight or flight categories and also the lovely thing forcing you to practically disassociate in front of your new boss and co-workers. 

“Welcome, Dr. L/N. We’ve heard good things. I’m Aaron Hotchner, I supervise the team.” He was leaning on the table before he stepped forward to shake your hand as he spoke. “This is Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid.” He pointed towards the corresponding people as he spoke of them. “Agent Rossi is away right now, and you’ll meet our T.I. later…she’s been excited.” If you hadn’t been good at your job, you’re sure you would have missed the way his lips turned up slightly at the edges when mentioning the woman. He didn’t seem so scary anymore, more like a father of the team. You’d been expecting a drill sergeant - your last team leader could have given a bull a run for it’s money with how much aggression that guy had. You welcomed the rush of excitement you felt at the discovery, mentally shaking off the stiffness you were carrying. 

“I’m happy to be here, sir. I’ve heard good things about the team, too. Your boss seems to think highly of your capabilities.” You addressed the room as you spoke. Public speaking was a skill you were still trying to master, so you practiced whenever you could. 

Your statement earned a chuckle from the table. Nobody bothered to explain the reason. You figured it was too much history to sum up on the spot. Your eyes wanted to linger on Reid. He seemed so young, and you wondered if he’d been told that his entire career - lord knows you had too. A fellow doctor. You assumed he was a bit of a stickler about the title, as even his boss kept it tacked onto his name when introducing him. You’d originally hoped to find some comfort in the man, on the surface he seemed a lot like you. He was probably too smart for his own good as well. Given the way he was staring at you, though, you felt the realization sink in that the man had no intention of welcoming you. 

“Why exactly do we need another profiler?” His voice held no malice as he spoke in the direction of his boss. There was more curiosity in his voice than anything, however you did pick up on the sense of superiority that sat just beneath the surface of his words. You guessed that’s how he behaved generally - as though he was superior. Still, your head tilted slightly to the side at the question. 

Damn. Tough crowd. 

You saw the intake of breath in Hotchner as he prepared to defend your place here but you spoke before he could start. “While I am a profiler, sir, first and foremost I am a psychiatrist - a doctor. As I’m sure you heard from Strauss, the board is unhappy with your recent efficiency rates and would also like to aid your team in dealing with mental health crises. I’ve spent my entire life studying the effects and conditions of the mentally diseased brain. I’ll be able to tell you the most efficient and effective way of interacting with these individuals, along with more accurately predicting their actions and methodology. I’m an agent, I took the same oath everyone here did but I was brought here for my expertise.” You were on a bit of a tangent, you knew that, but something about the smug feel of the man forced an emergence of competitiveness. He looked at you so indifferent, and you couldn’t help the tiny sparks of anger lighting beneath your skin. You kept a friendly disposition towards the man - you were a professional, after all, not a teenager - but you sensed a rivalry sprouting it’s roots.

The others at the table suppressed their smiles or looked down to hide it. Nobody had ever challenged Spencer like that. They could all feel he was a tad bit territorial. He was the guy people went to when they needed to know something. He was the Doctor of the group. They didn’t think he would take too kindly to another one encroaching his land. They saw the way he was tense, even more so after you responded. It was a riveting sight, though. The lot of them saw Spencer as a younger brother, and him meeting his match was something they were all so excited to see.

“Play nice, pretty boy.” Derek muttered to him, Spencer was slightly slouched in his chair now, not losing sight of you. Derek followed suit, turning his attention towards you. “We’re glad to have you, Doctor. We’ve spoken about an addition like you before, I’m glad to see the higher ups finally listened. I look forward to working with you - excuse me.” He left once his phone rang. 

The others took his exit as an excuse for their own, everyone giving you a warm welcome as they left. You reciprocated happily, telling everyone they could just call you by your first name, never having been one for titles. ‘There’s one difference.’ You thought, even your internal dialogue was bitter. Aside from him, there was a warmth here that you had been desperate to find in your last team. If you had to work passive aggressively with one uptight man in exchange for a team like this - you were going to take that deal. 

He refused to leave it seemed. He just sat looking inquisitively at the table, occasionally extending his stare to look at you before returning. How did you two end up alone in this room?

“Are you gonna have a problem with me, Doctor?” You shifted slightly on your feet. A notoriously nervous sign, one he definitely picked up on.

He stared again. It was his mind that kept him rooted in his seat. You were fucking alluring. He’d never met someone so like himself in his line of work. He was being a dick and he knew it but it seemed to be instinctual - some type of precaution, maybe. He didn’t know why you were being so respectful. Doctor. God, he didn’t know if the title had ever sounded so good being directed at him. His frustration only rose as he thought on the issue more. He wasn’t welcoming, it would be so easy to drop the formality, something he knew you knew would get on his nerves. But you didn’t. It didn’t seem like a question of dignity. You didn’t seem like the type to refuse a little pettiness - he sure wasn’t the type either. A thought stirred, an unsafe one he wanted to squash immediately but one he also couldn’t help but lean into. Did you want a power imbalance?

“No.” He stood abruptly, obviously still focused on the thoughts in his head. “Welcome to the team.” He addressed you one last time and then walked out of the room.

You followed shortly after, ready to make home on your couch and be done with being the newbie for the day. Your stress would follow you home, though, as the last thing you heard before you left the building was “Oh my god they’re perfect for each other.”

2.

The first few weeks were always the hardest. This was something you knew and were prepared for but it did nothing to calm your nerves. You’d been on countless missions having worked this job for a while now, but this was an entirely new dynamic to learn. You were an outsider for the first time in four years and it was scary. This case was shaping up to be a rough one, too. A man was having delusions telling him to kill. An extremely rare manifestation of his Schizophrenia, only elevated by the newly acquired aspect of him being an insomniac. 

Spencer hadn’t ceased being headstrong in cases either. Every time you wanted to help he made it his mission to overcompensate in order to snuff you out. On the contrary, he’d warmed up to you a little. It wasn’t major, he barely held any positive feelings toward you, but barely was better than not at all, so you coped. You two had managed a couple small talk conversations outside the battle of one-upping that you were currently losing. You absolutely hated it, but you liked him. You liked him a lot, actually. You don’t know when in the past few days that anger morphed into fondness but it had shifted hard. The casual dominance he exuded drew you in like a porchlight lures a moth. You doubted the opposite proved true for him, and that stung. You came to enjoy the banter, the competition, even if you were always playing the losing hand. It was the only way to get his undivided attention and the feeling of his eyes on you started to follow you home. 

You thought a lot about how you could get the relationship to pivot into something better. You didn’t want to be the girl he bickered with at work. You didn’t know what it was you wanted but you knew that your current fate sounded horrid. He was an ass, though, and he did not make it easy to admit those feelings. Every time he undermined you, you grew more attached and also more angry at yourself for doing so. It was because he’s so much like you, you thought. You knew from the way he interacted with his team that he wasn’t a cold guy, didn’t hold malice towards people for no reason. He needs time. He needs to know you, and God how badly you wanted to know him. 

You had sustained good relations with everyone the past few weeks you’ve been here. Meeting Garcia and Rossi had been a treat - both of them being delightful company. You’d heard them whispering about you and Spencer when they thought you weren’t around. The whole team seems to think that you’re basically fated to be together. It was unnerving how comforting that thought was to you. You hoped they were right. 

Spencer hoped they were right too. He’d heard the same whispers you had, chastising the team when he got the chance as if he didn’t think about you every moment he could. His eyes seemed to naturally land on you if you were around. He watched you walk around the bureau more and more lately, enjoying the gained confidence in your step as you cemented your place in the team. The sway of your hips or the swing of your arms. You mesmerized him no matter what you did. One time he got so caught up in his thoughts of you that Prentiss had to check he wasn’t having a silent panic attack. He clung to his sense of resentment, tried so hard to remind himself of the feelings he had when he first met you - you were beautiful, of course you were - but you were on claimed land and he was anything but eager for you to make home on it. That had faded fast, seeing how kind you were, scrambling to help and earn respect from everyone. The only reason he kept up the act of  “man who wants you gone” was so that he could keep talking to you. Spencer was a genius but he didn’t know how to handle someone like you. He’d been interested in girls before, hell he’d had girlfriends before but it had never felt like this in such little time. Such intense infatuation was crippling for someone who’s brain worked in patterns - this was new ground for him. 

“Everybody suit up. We have Foster’s location and we need to move quickly. He’s going after the source of his rage and we don’t have time to spare.” Hotch came down the stairs two at a time, spurring the team into action. 

“This man is highly dangerous but also highly deluded. The cases I’ve read similar to this say it’s best to speak gently. He’s sick but he can be reasoned with.” Spencer pulls from his memory as he sets his ‘FBI’ vest into place on his chest. 

“No, not this time. This man is too severe, his mind is too far gone. If these hallucinations of his are strong enough for him to touch them it’ll be extremely easy for him to rearrange or imagine your words differently. You need to be loud, direct, and assertive. Speak as little as possible. The quieter you are, the easier it will be for him to change what you’re saying in his head.” You also spoke while putting your vest on. You didn’t carry a weapon - a personal vow of yours, as you were more than classified to - so there were no holsters to fill. The contradictions between the two doctors of the team made everyone hesitate even though they lacked the time to do so.

Spencer looked at you, slightly out of breath from working so quickly. “You’re questioning my memory?” 

“I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor. I’m questioning your sources. There’s a higher risk level if we do what you’re suggesting. Let me do my job.” You made the final adjustments to your attire as you finished speaking. You returned his eye contact for just a beat too long, letting the others rush out of the building while you stood your ground, the two of you begrudgingly following after them a moment later.

You had been assigned a different car than him for the ride over. ‘Thank God’ was the only thing you could think when you saw him heading to the other SUV. After another confrontation - another public one, at that - you weren’t sure you could handle being pressed leg to leg with him in the backseat. Your words were a looping record in his head as he rode towards Foster. They were about to attempt a hostage negotiation with a man seeing people who weren’t there but all he could think about was that fucking word you refused to drop. 

I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor

You had to be doing this on purpose, he thought. He originally believed this had started because you knew stripping him of his beloved title would cause irritation. Now he suspected you knew how badly he wanted his name in your mouth and this was your way of torturing him. ‘It’s working.’ He thought. God was it working. He agreed with his team, you were perfect for him. You had knowledge to match his, kept him on his toes. One time the start of a ramble slipped through his “I don’t like you” façade and he felt his heart speed up at the genuine interest that roused in your eyes. You wanted to know him and he was an idiot for all the shit he was doing. 

He wasn’t surprised when your strategy worked and Ben Foster was taken into custody. You were the one to talk him down, and if you hadn’t already been accepted to the team, he knew then and there that they needed you. You were flawless. He knew you’d been doing this as long as he had and it showed. He pleaded with himself to stay focused, zeroed in on the weight of the gun in his hand to save face. His mind never left you, though, much like his eyes. This was the expertise you spoke of - no wonder they fought hard to get you here. 

“You were excellent in there.” It was just the two of you now. Even in the dull, flashing police lights, you were breathtaking. “Good job.” He said. Then he walked away because he was on the brink of kissing you and didn’t feel like breaking about 18 workplace rules while at the scene of a crime. You wouldn’t have been complaining if he did.

3.

Every time something like this happened it was difficult to remind yourself that not carrying a weapon was a choice you made willingly. You were currently sitting in the back of an open ambulance, about to be hoisted onto a stretcher and driven to the ER for stitches. You’ve been with the BAU for almost 3 months now and have miraculously managed to avoid injury in that time. This had been one of the easier cases. No chases or clues to follow, just a sick man who left a fairly obvious paper trail. You were the speaker on almost all cases. You were in charge of de-escalating a situation, making sure the bomb didn’t blow. You’ve never carried a weapon, always preferring to take the wounds of a job over using a gun to back up your words. You were a psychiatrist, you wanted to make people better, not vilify them. It worked, usually. People did tend to trust you more when you were unarmed. This time, though, it got you stabbed.

It wasn’t a bad injury, the blood had already stopped and was mildly dry by the time Spencer was joining you. Just one more scar to your collection. It was to the side of your quad, missing any artery by miles and just serving as a pain source at this point. A little numbing and some stitches and you’d be right as rain is what the doctor in the ambulance had said. 

“What happened?” He spoke softly to you. There wasn’t a rivalry between you two, not really. The banter hadn’t stopped, but it changed. It was playful and actually fun now. The both of you weren’t obsessed with outdoing the other anymore. Some casual boastfulness and a budding friendship is where you were at with him currently. 

“I got stabbed.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

He exhaled like he couldn’t comprehend the stupidity of your answer. You laughed at that. One enjoyable pastime you’d picked up in the past month was trying to bewilder him. The EMT said he needed to check the rest of your body for injury despite your protest of such a procedure. It was typical and you knew that, but you held onto the fear of your own body that middle school gave you. There was a man you liked here, and the thought of him seeing the bit of stomach that hung outside the waistline of your pants scared you more than you thought it would. You forced yourself to be rational in spite of this. It was Spencer, you wanted to be seen by him. 

“Holy shit.”

You chuckled at that. You forgot that maybe a warning was in order for the amount of scars that littered your stomach.

“Probably should have told you about those.” There were dozens. You amassed a countless amount of scars over the course of your job. Stab wounds, bullet grazes, burn marks. Unsubs, as much as you tried to empathize, were often violent at the end of the day and usually lashed out before they could be helped. 

He was staring - well, gazing more like. Not like someone stares at a car accident on the freeway but instead how someone stares at the moon - awe. He was in awe of you. Your strength, your courage, the fact that you went through all these individual events and still chose not to arm yourself. Some of these were in places that could have been fatal, and he thanked whatever entity may be listening that you persevered, begged them to continue that streak. He crashed hard into the desire to touch you, to run his hands over what little of your past he could see. He wondered if you would let him. If you’d fit into his palms the way he thought you would - if that was something you even wanted. The EMT was gone by now, having moved to the passenger seat for the ride to the hospital. 

“Could I - " He hesitated for a moment, this was definitely the wrong question to ask. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes glazed over slightly. Jesus. You felt your lips part a little.

“You want to?” Genuine surprise. You didn’t think you looked particularly desirable in your current state. He wanted to touch your fucking scars. Who does he think he is?

“Please.” He was looking at you in a way you hadn’t seen before. His eyes were glazed over too. You held his eyes as you nodded. The heat was so stifling that you laughed just a little at the tension.

“Fucking hell, Spence.”

Blood shot to his ears when you said his name. It had been well worth the wait to hear you say it like that - breathy and confused and so fucking pretty that he wondered how he ever lived before you said it. 

“Will you tell me about them?” He was breathy too, but he wouldn’t have you here, not like this. He just needed to feel you. 

“I’ll tell you anything you want, Doc.”

His hands were warm. It wouldn’t be the last time you felt them.

[hausofwoo]

when in berlin | jung wooyoung

pairing: jung wooyoung x afab reader

word count: 5.1K

summary: you move to the big city, yearning for a big change in your life, only find yourself feeling stuck all over again. that is, until you meet wooyoung, a perfect stranger who leads you on an unforgettable night of adventure and self discovery.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, non-idol au, strangers to lovers, alcohol consumption (but nothing crazy), unprotected piv (wrap it up!), use of a petname (baby), feat. work bestie!giselle.

author's note: i wanted to make a cute lil fluffy fic (with smut ofc) for my ult and this is what happened :-O i wanted to go a lil harder for him but i decided to save that for my next fic of him hehehe ALSO for reference, i imagined the club remix of umbrella to sound similar to this song, hope it captures the vibe. thank u to @hausofmingi and T for proofreading as always ♡

being new to the city was taking a toll on you.

you left your small town on a whim, eager to go out in the world: to experience something new, to get a bit of culture, to really find yourself. but all that you’ve found so far was a shitty low-paying job and a (suspiciously) low rent apartment on the east side. no one could blame you, you had just arrived and were still finding your footing.

you needed to get out; all you’ve really done in the past month of living here was work, eat and sleep. you desperately needed to socialize. so when your coworker invites you to go to a nightclub with her, you remind yourself that you’re here to try new things, and agree to go.

the line for the club is long. you expected this, it is a saturday night after all. you just weren’t really prepared to stand in line for half an hour. you’re dressed for the occasion, for in the club at least. it’s just outside the club that’s the issue, with cold air biting at your thighs in your all-too-tight dress. you check the time on your phone.

“giselle, it’s already 11:30,” you groan. “should we just go somewhere else?”

“but we’re so close to the front!” she quips. “just a little longer?”

giselle had been telling you all about this place, berlin. it was a club hidden in a basement in the heart of the city. apparently it plays all the hits, the actual good ones. and then at midnight, they always play some club remix of “umbrella” and bubbles descend from the ceiling. it sounded fun when she told you about it, but in this chilly air that’s only getting colder, you start to wonder if it’s worth it.

“fine,” you say, rubbing your arms to try to produce some sort of heat. “but if we miss umbrella then you owe me.”

giselle examines the long line ahead of you. “maybe we can get in with someone near the front?”

“giselle, no-” but before you can finish, she’s walking towards the front of the line.

you stay in your spot, feeling frozen in place. you watch her approach a group of men that seem to be around your age. you can see her nodding and smiling. since you met her, she’s definitely had a way with words. then, she looks back at you and points. suddenly feeling eyes on you, your face flushes in embarrassment, bringing heat back to your cheeks. you can’t really see the men, it’s dark and they’re a bit too far to see the details of their faces. giselle motions you over, and you’re hesitant, but you force yourself to be brave and cut the line.

as you make your way over, you can see the men getting their IDs checked and stamps pressed to their hands. you catch up to giselle, who’s fishing through her purse for her wallet.

“that was easy,” she giggles. “meet our new friends.”

you both turn to see the men being ushered in, not even getting a moment to introduce each other.

“oh. maybe we’ll catch up with them later,” giselle mumbles, swiping her ID from her wallet.

you shrug to her with a chuckle, ready to hold your hand out for a stamp.

following giselle down the stairs, the dark caverns of the stairwell were dimly lit with red lights. you can hear the music bumping distantly, and you wonder how much longer this set of stairs is. as soon as you reach the bottom, you realize it’s just a floor for the bathrooms and you have a whole new set waiting for you. the music grows louder and louder, and you start to feel the bass in your chest, or maybe your pulse is just beginning to rise in excitement for what’s to come.

a man that seems to be a bouncer guards the door leading to the actual club. as you both approach, he nods and pulls it open, unleashing the blasting sound and the heat of dancing bodies. you and giselle look at each other, smile, and rush right in.

you try and navigate your way through, opting to get drinks before anything else. you finally squeeze through the sweaty bodies to reach the bar, and giselle requests two tequila shots.

“tequila?” you repeat to her, struggling to yell over the music. “so it’s that kind of night?”

“oh yeah,” giselle says, grabbing the shots from the bar and paying her tab. “it’s that kind of night.”

you look at each other, doing a quick cheers and laughing almost out of giddiness. here’s to new experiences, you think to yourself.

slamming her empty glass down, giselle grabs your arm and starts leading you to the crowded dance floor. “now let’s fucking dance!”

swiveling through the crowd, you eventually land in the perfect spot right in the middle of the dance floor. the speakers are thumping some charli xcx song you know every word to, and the lights are flashing around you as well as the glistening bodies surrounding you. the crowd is jumping, singing to the song, dancing like no one is watching. you realize that you’ve been so tense all night, so you finally allow yourself to let loose.

you sing along with giselle, screaming the lyrics to each other and dancing to an unknown rhythm. but you don’t care how stupid you may look, you’re having way too much fun to think about the strangers around you. the alcohol slowly seeps through your veins, your head feeling lighter and your body more relaxed. with each song, you somehow don’t grow tired, only more exhilarated.

“i’m so glad we did this!” you attempt to yell to giselle.

“huh?!” she replies, not hearing you.

you brush it off with a laugh, continuing to jump along with her. the music switches to a song with a heavy bass, and you begin to feel the beats in the pit of your stomach. you melt into the music, letting every beat dictate your movements. the energy in the room changes, as if the pulsing sound awakened something in the crowd. you glance around, as if you’re trying to locate the source of the energy, before realizing you felt a pair of eyes on you.

there, across the flashing lights and moving bodies, you lock eyes with a stranger. despite the chaos around you, the stranger is standing still, maintaining eye contact with you. you feel a magnetic pull towards him, curiosity overcoming you. but before you can do anything about it, giselle pulls you deeper into the crowd. you can’t help but look back, searching for the eyes of that mysterious stranger.

“i think i’m gonna grab another drink,” you lean into giselle to say. “do you want anything?”

“i’m good for now!” she replies, continuing to dance.

you nod and try to part through the crowd, getting bumped and pushed a little too much for your liking. you escape the crowd only to another bustling one waiting around the bar. you sigh and run your fingers through your hair. this is gonna take a minute.

“you want a drink?” a man next to you says.

you prepare yourself to reject the man, having no interest in flirting with some random guy at a club. but when you look over, you notice it’s the man who was gazing at you across the dance floor. up close, he’s even more captivating. his dark hair is perfectly tousled and long strands of his tresses hang a bit over his face. his eyes contain a glint of curiosity, enhancing his mysterious demeanor. you catch yourself staring, and resort to nodding to him.

“what do you want?” he leans into your shoulder to murmur in your ear.

“uh, i think i just want a water,” you say, feeling yourself getting dizzy. you only had one shot and it’s wearing off quickly, and you realize the source is from a sudden wave of nerves.

you watch as he’s able to make his way to the edge of the bar top, not even needing to push and prod around the shifting bodies. in no time, he’s turning around with 2 waters, handing one to you. you take a big sip through the straw, trying so hard to maintain eye contact as he does the same. but his sharp brown eyes start to make you feel like jelly. how does he have this effect on you?

“i’m wooyoung,” he smiles, playing with his straw.

“hi wooyoung,” you say with a smile, telling him your name as well.

before you can continue, the song switches to the one you’ve been anticipating all night. umbrella. the crowd erupts in energy as the line around the bar immediately retreats to the dance floor. everyone knew what was about to happen. you look back at wooyoung with a smile on your face.

“let’s dance?” he says, grabbing your hand and steering you straight onto the dance floor.

you let out a giggle, seeing him holding your hand and looking back at you as pulls you in deeper. he pulls you into a spot big enough for the both of you, albeit very close. your faces are only inches apart, and you both gaze into each other’s eyes with growing interest. he then unleashes a sly grin, pointing to the ceiling above you. you look up to see a black metal box hanging from the ceiling.

“what is it?” you ask.

“wait for the chorus,” he lets out, slowly wrapping his arm around your waist.

you melt into his touch as the music pulses through your ears. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and let yourself sway to the rhythm. the lights are flashing blues and greens above you, glimmers reaching onto wooyoung’s face. you’re completely taken over by his trance, your eye contact persisting. his eyes break away to look up, watching the bubbles descend from the ceiling. you’re in awe from the whimsy around you, watching the bubbles fall onto the crowd.

it’s so silly in hindsight, the little light show and bubble machine. but with the way you feel the bass lines run through your whole body and the bubbles falling softly into your hair, you start to feel euphoric. wooyoung’s body melds into yours, grinding against you as he holds the small of your back. the bridge lifts the music to the height of the song, causing the bubbles to unleash tenfold.

“it’s so pretty!” you yell to him, attempting to catch them. you look to him smiling at you in admiration.

“oh my god,” you yelp, coming to a sudden realization. “giselle!”

you look around the crowd, searching for your friend. your eyes finally lock with hers, all while she’s dancing against a tall man.

“you okay?” you mouth to her.

she just nods eagerly, pointing behind to the man grinding against her. “I’M GOOD,” she mouths back with an OK hand signal.

you sigh in relief and turn back to wooyoung. a new song begins playing, but your focus is on him.

“wanna get out of here?” he says in your ear, before pulling back to see your expression.

you nod and allow him to pull you out of the crowd, weaving through the mass of people. he continues holding your hand all the way up the red stairwell, opening the door for you at the top of the stairs. as soon as you exit the building, you let out a big sigh.

“that was so fun,” you let out, smiling ear to ear. “now what?”

“i’m starving,” wooyoung says. “food?”

after getting something to eat at a food truck open a couple streets over, you and wooyoung arrive at a nearby park you found to sit in the grass. in the middle is a huge pond, with the moon reflecting along the soft ripples. you have a perfect view of the city, buildings looking massive and lights shining bright in the evening sky.

“it’s so beautiful,” you say under your breath, gazing at the sight before you.

wooyoung looks over at you. “yeah, it is.”

“you know, i just realized,” you start. “i’ve been in this city for a whole month and i haven’t even explored any of it yet.”

“why’s that?” wooyoung asks.

“i want to make the excuse of working too much, but it feels like a cop out,” you admit. “i’m just… completely new to this kind of lifestyle. this place has definitely been a culture shock.”

“so why’d you move here?” wooyoung shifts to face you more.

“i got tired of the monotony,” you say. “i wasn’t going anywhere back home. i felt so… stuck.” you run your fingers through your hair, and let out a dry laugh. “i thought maybe if i throw myself in an environment i know absolutely nothing about, i’d learn something about myself. that i’d figure out what the fuck i want to do with my life. but living here so far has only made me realize how scared i am.”

“what are you scared of?” he asks.

“that i’m way in over my head,” you sigh, half-joking. “do you ever feel that way?”

“all the time,” he says. “but i try to ignore it. we have to take risks, embrace the unknown. that’s the only way we can actually find ourselves.” you nod, and he puts his hand in yours. “it might feel scary right now, but you’ve just made the first step.”

“you’re right,” you saying, turning to look at him. “it’s funny, this is probably the biggest risk i’ve taken so far here.”

“ditching the club to go to a park?” wooyoung asks. “"we definitely need to get you on some more adventures." he stands up, extending his hand out to you.

“what, right now?” you ask, grabbing his hand to lift yourself up.

“the night is still young,” he smirks at you. “i know the perfect place to start.”

the park you were at was big, but you didn’t realize how big. wooyoung guides you through the expanse of it, finally reaching to one end with a large unlit building. you can’t make out what it is at first, until reaching close enough to realize what it is.

“a carousel?” you ask. wooyoung is ahead of you, leading the way. “but it’s closed!”

“does that matter?” he says mischievously, running to the side of the structure.

you linger behind, nervously scanning the area to ensure no one is around. if you get caught, you could be in a huge trouble. you’re not sure what kind of trouble, but you didn’t really want to find out. but before you can continue spiraling, the lights of the ride blink on and starts slowly spinning.

“how the hell…” you say to yourself.

you slowly approach the ride, feeling the anxiety slowly dissipate from your mind as you watch the lights illuminate before you and faint carnival music plays. as the carousel turns, you see wooyoung already on board, seated on an ornately decorated white horse.

“are you getting on or not?” he waves his hand, beckoning you over.

you clench your fists, taking a deep breath. before you even realize it, you find yourself hopping onto the ride, claiming the horse next to his.

as the carousel begins to pick up speed, you felt a surging sense of exhilaration running through your body. you watch the blurred city lights spinning around you in streaks of color, wind brushing through your hair. it’s dizzying, but somehow felt good. wooyoung’s laughter is contagious, and you catch yourself laughing too, the sound weaving into the faint carnival music. you look back at him, still smiling along with you.

“this is amazing!” you shout over the music, holding the pole tighter as the horse moves up and down.

“i knew you’d like it!” he says, voice filled with warmth.

wooyoung leans closer, your eyes locking onto each other. your breath hitches, the music and lights fading into the background. a gentle smile plays on his lips as he reaches his hand out to hold your cheek, starting to close the distance between you. just as your lips were about to touch, the machine starts to shut down, and a flash of light hits your face. you bring your hand up to shield your eyes.

“hey!” a man’s voice yells out. “you can’t be on there!”

shit. you’ve been caught. you look over to wooyoung, who promptly grabs your hand and starts running. the last bit of momentum of the ride boosts you off and you trip over yourself.

“hey! get back here!” you see that it’s park security yelling, and they’re starting to run towards you.

wooyoung lifts you up from the ground, and as soon as you regain your composure, you start bolting. you both run hand in hand, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. wooyoung looks back, the security guard still on your tail. you reach the edge of the park, not sure which way to turn. wooyoung steps in the street, waving his hand out for a car. you look back to see the guard nearly caught up to you.

“wooyoung, we gotta go!” you yell.

he lets out a loud whistle, prompting an almost-passing taxi to halt a few feet in front of you. you both hop in, wooyoung telling the taxi to just start driving. the driver follows, continuing down the street.

you’re both out of breath, heaving from the sudden running. you look at each other and laugh.

“well…” you say. “what next?”

“oooh, i like it,” wooyoung teases. “you almost get caught and you’re already ready for more?”

“shut up,” you say, shoving his shoulder.

“mind telling me where to go?” the driver says.

“oh, sorry,” wooyoung chuckles, pulling out his phone. “can you take us here?” he shows an address to him. the man inputs the directions and reroutes.

“where are we going?” you ask.

“just a little party,” he says.

you arrive to the address, staring at the building as wooyoung pays the taxi. it’s a high-rise apartment building, and it looks nice—like, your entire salary worth for one month nice.

“um, wooyoung,” you say hesitantly. “who’s party is this?”

he wraps his arm around you. “it’s some famous DJ.”

“do you know this famous DJ?” you ask, almost not wanting to know the answer.

“nope,” he replies, walking you both through the tall glass doors.

“then how the fuck do we plan on getting in?” you whisper-yell to him. “this is an apartment building!”

wooyoung takes his arm off of you and points to the front desk. “well for starters, there’s no doorman.”

“that’s only half the problem!” you say as you step into the elevator.

he puts his hand under your chin teasingly, forcing you to make direct eye contact. “just trust me.”

the elevator doors open to a huge hallway, white walls covered with lavish paintings and the floors a shiny marble. near the end of the hallway, you can see a couple people loitering around the entrance of an apartment. there’s a man guarding the door, most likely security. wooyoung starts walking confidently towards the door, you following behind wondering how the hell he’s gonna pull this off. he approaches the guard and nearly grabs the doorknob.

“name?” the man says flatly, holding his arm out.

“oh yeah, i’m—” wooyoung starts, then stop when the door swings open to let a few people out. he takes a glimpse inside, then suddenly seeming like he sees someone he recognizes. “oh, hey chris!”

a man inside waves back, although looking a bit confused. the security guard sees the exchange, momentarily taken off guard.

“mind if i go join my friend?” wooyoung says, trying to continue his ruse. “he’s been waiting for us all night.”

the guard remains skeptical, causing wooyoung to lean in closer to him. “look, he invited us personally. if we don’t get in, it’s on him. you know how these things go.”

not wanting to cause a scene, the guard hesitantly nods and lets you both through. as you walk into the lavish space, you can’t even wonder how the hell that worked. all that matters is that it did, and now you’re here, in this huge place swarming with undoubtedly rich party-goers and music blaring in your ears. you follow wooyoung as he makes his way to the kitchen island, grabbing drinks for both of you.

“what should we cheers to?” wooyoung grins, handing it to you.

“maybe our new friend chris?” you say, giggling.

“to chris!” he says, clinking his glass to yours. you both take a sip.

“you’re crazy,” you say to him. “i can’t believe that actually worked.”

“confidence is key,” he winks, taking another sip. “should we explore?”

you nod, turning to trail him as you head towards a hallway of doors. unsure which one to pick, you look at wooyoung.

“one of these doors has GOT to lead to something cool,” he says, already walking up to one of them. he opens the door and promptly closes it with a surprised look on his face.

“what was it?” you ask, curious as ever.

“let’s just say some guy is getting very lucky tonight,” he says, holding back a laugh. “maybe i should’ve knocked.”

you put your hand over your mouth in an attempt to hold back a laugh, but seeing wooyoung’s shocked face sends you over the edge. you let out a muffled cackle, causing wooyoung to crack up too.

“shhhh!” he says, still laughing with you. he walks up to the next door. “let’s try this one.”

he opens the door to a dark room. you can’t really tell what it is, until walking in and letting your eyes adjust.

“they have a fucking movie theater?” you say, looking at the plush red couches around you and huge screen before you. “how famous is this DJ?”

“i don’t know, but i’m gonna need chris to introduce us,” wooyoung says, plopping down into a seat. he pats the spot next to him, prompting you to join.

“how did you find out about this party anyway?” you ask, getting comfortable on the couch.

“a friend of a friend saw a story and blah blah blah… does it matter?” wooyoung says, chuckling.

“you must go on a lot of adventures,” you say.

“i guess so,” he says, shrugging. “you know, i was kinda like you when i first moved here. it felt like i was just living like a zombie… wake up, go to work, come home exhausted, fall asleep, and the cycle starts all over again. i didn’t even realize i was avoiding what i was meant to do when i moved here.”

“and what’s that?” you ask.

“same as you,” he says, leaning his shoulder against yours. “same as everyone who moves here, to find myself.”

“and?” you ask.

“and did i find myself?” he says. “no clue. but at least i’m having fun.” he breaks into a smile, eyes meeting yours. you can’t help but to smile back.

“i guess having fun is a good start,” you reply. “maybe that’s exactly what i need.”

“i can help with that,” wooyoung whispers with a smile, leaning in towards you. your eyes flick from his eyes down to his lips, feeling the magnetism between you pulling you closer.

the theater door swings open behind you with two men charging in.

“yeah man, i don’t fucking know this guy!” your used-to-be friend chris says to the security guard approaching you.

“alright, you two,” the guard huffs. “party’s over.”

wooyoung and you immediately jump up, running to the opposite side of the theater to loop around and push past “chris” to escape out the theater door. you run together, attempting to open each door in the hallway to find some sort of place to hide. when one of them leads to a bathroom, you both rush in and slam the door behind you to lock it. wooyoung presses you against the door, his hand resting just above your head.

your breath trembles as you look up at wooyoung. he places his hand on your cheek, examining your face before closing the distance between you in a hungry kiss. he presses you close against his body, moving his other hand to hold your waist. the kiss was all-consuming, finally allowing all the built up tension to finally release between your bodies. your lips meld into his as you card your fingers through his long hair, not wanting to let go.

a knock shakes the door against your back as a man yells for you two to get out. but the threatening voice is just another sound in the background, your mind is only on wooyoung. you separate for moment, foreheads leaning against each other.

“let’s go somewhere more private,” wooyoung whispers. you smile and allow him to lead the way.

as you arrive at wooyoung’s place, you cling to him, allowing his lips to meet yours in a passionate embrace. you stumble over each other as he moves you backwards toward the bedroom, giggles escaping both of you. your clothes fall to the ground in the process, nearly ripping them off each other. you fall back onto the bed and wooyoung hovers over you, continuing to kiss you ravenously. his hands roam up and down your body, almost as if he wants to feel every inch of you—as if he wants to worship you. he slots between your legs, grinding against your core as he begins kissing your neck.

your body is aching for him, it’s been aching for him all night. the moment you saw him, the energy between you felt electric. and even now, with his body pressed against yours, the undeniable chemistry flows among you. your moans are inescapable, with the desire building in your stomach. wooyoung lifts himself slightly to move a wandering hand down to your heat, pushing your underwear to the side to feel your dripping core.

“so wet,” his muffled voice against your skin, before moving to meet your lips again.

he gathers your wetness upwards, beginning to rub circles around your clit. you moan into his mouth, relishing in the agonizing stimulation. he dips his fingers back down to your hole, entering his two middle fingers slowly. as he inches in, you clench around him, eager to take them. he thrusts his fingers in and out, progressively reaching deeper inside you. when he starts curling his digits to reach your g spot, you break away from his kiss to let out a wanton moan.

“wooyoung, i need to feel you,” you murmur, urging him to take off his underwear with you following suit.

he guides his cock to your entrance, dragging upwards to stimulate your clit. he drags back down and pushes his cockhead against your fluttering hole. your legs tangle around his waist, squeezing as if to tell him please, please fuck me. he pushes into you, causing you to release a sharp gasp at the size. he holds the side of your face, caressing gently as he gradually begins thrusting.

the sounds of your strangled breaths fill the room as he continues his movements into you. waves of pleasure ripple throughout your body, making you dig your nails into his shoulder blades. his body moves in perfect harmony with yours, emitting a raw, unspoken passion. your legs wrap around him even tighter, your heated bodies melding into each other even deeper. the connection between you feels magnetic, and it only grows stronger with each thrust. his gaze meets yours, eyes filled with lust.

“you feel so fucking good,” he says between breaths, and places tender kisses along your jawline.

“please, don’t stop,” you manage to reply, pleasure taking over.

he lifts his body up to piston into you, hips snapping against you. his moans are unrelenting, the grip on your thighs tightening as the heat in your stomach begins to grow. he feels the way your core contracts around him, causing him to release one hand from your thigh to now focus on toying with your clit. this increases the clenching, nearly taking his breath away in pleasure. his thumb’s pace quickens, bringing the tension in your core to an unbearable peak.

“wooyoung, i’m gonna cum,” you moan, feeling the cord in you ready to snap.

“cum with me, baby,” he replies, his pace persisting. you can feel his grip start to tighten as he angles himself just right in you, causing you to completely come undone.

the room around you fades away as pure ecstasy overcomes you, not even holding back the straight up pornographic moans each of you are letting out. the tightening of your core around him makes his hips stutter, filling you completely with his release. the rolls of his hips begin to slow, fucking the last bit of his cum into you. he lets out a satisfied groan, falling on top of you while still inside.

your chest rises and falls in staggered breaths, finally coming down from your high. your run your fingers through wooyoung’s hair as he nestles in your neck. he hums against you softly, sending vibrations against your skin.

you wonder if this will be a one time thing—if he was just the perfect stranger you needed to meet in order to discover yourself. that he was just a stepping stone to urge you forward on your path, soon to be left behind but never forgotten. your heart sinks at the thought of it. you didn’t want that to be the case, because what you felt with him felt too real. that there’s this undeniable intense pull that made you crave more, and you ache at the thought of letting this go.

wooyoung gently holds the side of your neck, soft breathing tickling at you as his thumb slowly caresses you.

“sooo,” he starts. “what are you doing tomorrow?”

a smile spreads across your face as you realize that this perfect stranger won’t remain a stranger for long.

a/n: yeah so this was very self-indulgent but i have no regrets. i'm defo gonna make tonssss more woo fics, especially sub!woo, so stay tuned for that. 3rd fic ever so plz leave feedback and reblog to support me! thank uuuuuu ✧*

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