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kwilquib · 2 months ago

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We can't be Friends Anymore

Yuqi (🐶) x Male Reader (📖)

switching pov

Word Count: 13.6k

a/n: tried experimenting with switching pov in 2nd person, and testing some dividers format.

The campus hums—students sprawl on the lawn or dart between classes. You’re propped against the library railing, nursing a half-hearted coffee, when familiar faces roll up.

“Yo, isn’t Yuqi your friend?” one of them asks, a little too casually.

You already know where this is going.

“She is,” you confirm, watching as they exchange looks.

“So, she’s actually single?” another cuts in, voice skeptical. “No hidden boyfriend? No messy situationship?”

You snort, shaking your head. “Nope. No secret anything. Just her and her oversized ego.”

That seems to encourage them. Someone whistles low. “Damn. Think I got a shot?”

You pretend to consider it. “Honestly? Go for it.”

That gets a reaction—a few surprised laughs, one guy nudging the other in mock encouragement.

“I mean it,” you continue, shrugging. “Might do her some good to have someone other than textbooks and late-night ramen occupying her brain. She hyper-fixates way too much on school.”

“She does look kinda intense,” one of them admits.

“Oh, she’s a menace,” you say easily. “But here’s the thing—Yuqi’s also insanely narcissistic. If you confess to her, she’d eat that up. She lives to be reminded how pretty she is.”

That earns a round of laughter.

“So you’re saying I should just walk up to her, tell her she’s gorgeous, and I’m in?”

You smirk. “Depends. Can you handle being ignored for two weeks when she gets too busy? Or her texting you at 2 AM just to brag about an exam score?”

The guy groans. “Yeah, nah. I don’t have the mental strength for that.”

Another one shakes his head. “Dude, why’s it sound like you’re feeding us to the wolves?”

You lift a brow. “Hey, you’re the ones asking.”

They chuckle, muttering something about how Yuqi’s beauty really is a waste if she’s just gonna be married to academia forever. You don’t think much of it—this isn’t the first time people have asked you about her, and it won’t be the last.

Besides, it’s not like it matters to you.

“Asking about what?”

The voice cuts through the conversation, unmistakable and laced with curiosity.

You don’t even have to turn around. You already know.

Yuqi stands there, arms crossed, one brow raised in that signature I-know-you’re-up-to-something expression. She looks effortlessly put together despite probably running on four hours of sleep and an unreasonable amount of caffeine. Her oversized hoodie hangs loosely off one shoulder, and she’s got that ever-present glint of amusement in her eyes—sharp, calculating, and just a little too pleased with catching you off guard.

The group stiffens. One guy actually takes half a step back, like she might call him out by name.

You take your time, sipping your drink before finally acknowledging her. “Oh, nothing much. Just these guys wondering if you’re single and available.”

Her gaze flicks toward them, slow and deliberate.

“Hmm.” She taps her chin, pretending to think. “And? What did you tell them?”

You smirk. “Told them to go for it. That you’d love being reminded how pretty you are.”

Yuqi scoffs, but you don’t miss the way her lips twitch upward. “Wow. Advertising me like I’m a limited-time offer?”

“I mean, you are in high demand.”

She tilts her head, feigning boredom. “And yet, nobody’s brave enough to try.”

The guys exchange awkward laughs, none of them willing to step up to the challenge. One clears his throat and mutters something about being late for class before they all make a quick exit, leaving just you and Yuqi standing there.

She watches them go, then turns back to you, unimpressed. “You really have zero faith in my love life, huh?”

“Not my fault your standards are ridiculous.”

“They’re not ridiculous,” she argues, flicking a piece of lint off her sleeve. “They’re refined.”

You shake your head, chuckling. “Whatever you say, Your Highness.”

She hums, studying you for a second too long. Then, with a smirk, she leans in slightly. “And what about you?”

You blink. “What about me?”

Yuqi’s grin sharpens. “Would you confess to me?”

She’s teasing, tossing it out like it’s nothing—just another jab in your years-long game.

So why does it land heavier this time?

“Hello??” She waves a hand in front of your face. “Stop zoning out like you’re actually thinking about it— are you?”

“Hell no,” you shoot back, forcing a laugh. “I know you’re full of yourself, but that’s taking it too far.”

She scoffs, crossing her arms. “Right. As if you could handle me anyway.”

‘God, she’s so annoying.’

She’s good-looking—annoyingly so. The kind of person who doesn’t even have to try. But when she does, she’s exceptional. Yuqi never settles. If she can push herself further, she will. She likes to joke that her father drilled perfectionism into her at three years old. You believe it. It shows in the way she studies, the way she carries herself, the way she acts like the world should revolve around her—and sometimes, it almost does.

You met her at the start of college—multiple run-ins on the same day. Apparently, that was enough for her to decide you were friends. From then on, Yuqi stuck around, pulling you into her orbit.

Rumors, of course, followed. They always do. But your relationship with Yuqi wasn’t that. Never that. It wasn’t shallow, like something you could fall in and out of, love or hate.

Best friends. Neither too close nor too distant. Something steady. Something comforting.

…Or at least, it should’ve been.

~🐶~

“Then… I can live with you.”

The words cut through the gentle hum of the café, slipping into the space between you and her without warning.

Yuqi, halfway through savoring a forkful of cake, stilling at the sudden proposition. The sweetness on her tongue dulls as her mind processes what she just heard.

Outside, the streetside view stretches beyond the window, pedestrians weaving through the early evening rush, neon signs flickering to life. It had been a peaceful moment—her, indulging in dessert, the warm glow of café lights, the casual murmur of other patrons.

And then that.

Her gaze snaps up, eyebrows slightly raised. She had been so focused on her food, on the comforting ritual of eating something sweet after a long day, that she almost forgot she wasn’t sitting here alone.

Across from her, you sit, arms crossed, looking entirely too casual for someone who just threw out a life-altering suggestion.

“…What?” Her fork hovers, eyes narrowing as she rewinds the last five minutes. Housing gripes, sure. Minnie’s betrayal, yeah. But this? “Hold up—did you just say live with me? Where the hell did that come from?”

“You just said it a minute ago, aren't you in trouble because you got stood up?”

Yuqi clicks her tongue at the memory, the taste of betrayal lingering far worse than the cake melting on her tongue.

Minnie—her supposed roommate, her supposed friend—had bailed on her at the last minute.

She had just signed the lease when the call came.

"Yuqi… I’m sorry, I don’t think I can live with you… My boyfriend offered to live with him, and I couldn’t refuse. You understand, right?? Thank you…"

Yuqi had barely gotten out a, “Wait, what? Minnie, I just signed the lease—hold on—” before the call ended.

That was two days ago.

Now, here she was, sitting in a café with you, still trying to figure out how to deal with it.

And your grand solution? Living together.

Yuqi swirls her straw in her drink, staring at you like you’ve just suggested something insane—which, to be fair, you have.

“I also have to move next month,” you continue, unfazed. “My office is closer there. So it’s perfect timing.”

“No way. Too weird—thanks, but no.” She chugs her drink, as if that will help wash away the absurdity of this conversation. “For now, I’ll call the real estate office for a cancellation.”

“And your job starts next month,” you counter, unfazed. “Good luck apartment-hunting in zero time.”

“Hmm… I guess I’ll have to postpone my work too.” Her fork idly plays with the remains of her cake, breaking it down into a mess of crumbs. Just moments ago, she had been enjoying it, and now she can’t even bring herself to take another bite. “I’ll just go back to my parents’ house, and—”

“You can’t do that.”

Yuqi frowns. “What?”

“Did you forget? I also wanted to go home, and you didn’t let me. That’s the reason I got the job I was dreaming of.”

She clicks her tongue. “See what happens when you just listen to me?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself— Give it up, you’re not pushing back your work.” You lean back, arms crossed. “Am I not your friend? Aren’t we supposed to help each other when we’re in trouble?”

Yuqi exhales, pressing her lips together. As much as she hates to admit it, you have a point.

It’s only temporary. A practical solution. Why shouldn’t she take it?

For the past two days, she had been dreading this mess—mentally calculating costs, debating whether she should force herself into a last-minute roommate arrangement with a complete stranger.

And now, just like that, you’ve handed her the perfect fix.

Her shoulders, tense from the weight of this problem, feel noticeably lighter. The only thing that irks her is that she didn’t think of this first.

“…Yeah, you’re right. We’re friends.” She leans back, eyeing you. “There’s no reason for me to decline. Especially not after all that pleading.”

“pleading?? I’m not the one who needs help here.”

“Fine. How much you chipping in?”

“Fifty-fifty. What, you think I’m just going to give you easy money?”

“If you’re volunteering…” She smirks, leaning in just enough to taunt.

You shake your head, scoffing. “Unbelievable.”

And so, the cohabitation between you and Yuqi begins.

~~~

There are private rooms, clear boundaries. As long as neither of you misjudges the sense of distance between you, nothing will change.

At least, that’s what you both assume.

The first few weeks go exactly as expected—well, mostly.

Yuqi doesn’t have to worry about rent anymore. There’s no awkward adjustment period, no need to tiptoe around like she would with a stranger. You’re not the worst person to live with, either. Sure, you’re irritating sometimes—leaving your notes scattered on the dining table, stealing the last of the coffee, acting smug whenever you manage to fix something she can’t—but she’s always known that about you.

What she didn’t expect was how quickly she gets used to you being there.

It’s the little things.

The way she hears the front door open and instinctively knows it’s you. The way you always leave the light on when you come home late because you know she stays up reading.

One night, she passes by the kitchen and finds you there, reheating food. You glance up. “You haven’t eaten yet?”

She shrugs, stealing a piece of your food before you can swat her hand away. “Hey—”

“It’s fine, I’m not that hungry.”

You exhale, shaking your head. “You do this every time. Don’t be a hypocrite.”

Yuqi frowns. “What?”

“You always scold me for skipping meals, but look at you.”

She rolls her eyes, but something in her chest stirs at the fact that you noticed.

It happens again when she comes home exhausted one evening and finds her favorite drink sitting on the counter. When she glances at you, raising a brow, you just shrug. “Thought you’d need it.”

And again, when she’s cramming for a presentation and you drop a snack beside her without a word.

She tells herself it’s normal. You’re friends. Friends do things like this.

Another moment.

Yuqi is in the kitchen early one morning, half-awake as she absentmindedly flips an egg in the pan. She isn’t much of a cook, but breakfast is simple enough—something warm to start the day before the madness of work and school kicks in.

She’s focused on the sizzling sound, the comforting routine of it, when she suddenly feels movement behind her.

Then—warmth.

You’re reaching over her, one hand bracing the counter beside her, the other stretching toward the cupboard above.

For a split second, she’s caught off guard by how close you are—close enough that she can feel the faint heat of your body against her back, close enough that she catches the lingering scent of your shampoo, something fresh and clean.

Her heartbeat stutters.

Instinct kicks in before logic does, and she turns around—only to make things worse.

Now, instead of your presence behind her, she’s face-to-face with you.

Too close.

Way too close.

Her eyes meet yours, and for some reason, it feels like neither of you moves for a second too long. Her pulse is loud in her ears, and she doesn’t know why she’s suddenly so aware of the way her breath catches—why her fingers tighten slightly around the spatula in her hand.

She’s being weird again.

“You…” She clears her throat, trying to sound unaffected. “Need something?”

You blink, as if snapping out of it, and gesture toward the cupboard. “Just getting a mug.”

Right. Obviously.

She mentally curses herself and quickly steps aside, turning her focus back to the stove. It’s nothing. You’re just tired. That’s all.

But then one morning, she walks into the living room, still groggy from sleep, and finds you sitting on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling on your phone. Sunlight streams through the window, catching in your hair. You’re wearing that old, worn-out hoodie you refuse to throw away, looking like you belong there—like you belong with her.

And something about it makes her stomach flip in a way it shouldn’t.

Yuqi stands frozen in the hallway, gripping her coffee mug, heartbeat slightly off rhythm.

She doesn’t like where her thoughts are going.

She really, really doesn’t.

So she does what she always does when faced with something uncomfortable—she brushes it aside.

She’s just being weird.

It’s nothing.

It has to be nothing.

“Hey.”

Your voice cuts through the silence, snapping Yuqi out of her thoughts.

She blinks, stiffening slightly. “What?”

“You got any plans today?”

Her mind races. Why is he asking? Is he—wait, is he inviting me somewhere? A… date?

“Wh—why?” she asks, trying (and failing) to sound casual.

You shrug. “Nothing. Just asking.” There’s a pause before you add, “I’ll be home late, though. No need to wait up.”

She scoffs, crossing her arms. “Since when do I wait for you?”

You don’t answer, and somehow, that makes it worse.

Irritated, she presses on. “Why? Where are you going?”

“Meeting someone,” you say, vague as hell.

Her brows crash together. “Wait—a date? What, you’re flaunting it now?”

You smirk, dodging the question, and something sour twists in her gut—she hates that smirk, hates how it needles her, hates that she cares.

Before she can push further, a realization slams into her. “Oh—shit, work!”

Panic sets in as she scrambles toward the bathroom, cursing under her breath. Just as she reaches the door, she pauses, whipping around to point an accusing finger at you.

“Fuck you, you did that on purpose. You were distracting me!”

From the couch, you barely glance up from your phone before lazily flipping her off.

She slams the bathroom door, heart thudding too hard to unpack.

Hours later, she’s a wreck—work crushed her soul, her boss barely grunted at her efforts, and every mistake she made still burns.

She doesn’t even remember how she made it home. Everything from today—the endless stress, the way her boss barely acknowledged her work, the stupid mistakes she made because she was too exhausted to think straight—it all clings to her like dead weight.

It feels even shittier knowing what today was supposed to be.

Her first work anniversary. One year. A milestone that should mean something, should feel like progress. Instead, she feels like she’s still fumbling, still struggling to prove herself, still barely keeping up.

Her head pounds. Her chest feels tight.

And maybe—just maybe—what makes it worse is that today also marks one year since she moved in with you.

One year of this place feeling like home.

But right now, standing in the entryway, shoes barely kicked off, she just feels… drained.

She wants to cry.

Not in a dramatic, loud way. Just… silently. Curled up on the couch, alone in the dimly lit apartment, where she could finally let go without anyone seeing.

She’s relieved you aren’t home yet.

She doesn’t have to keep it together.

With a deep breath, she pushes open the door—

Pop!

Confetti explodes, and Yuqi flinches, pulse spiking as cake-scent floods her senses.

Streamers dangle, a crooked banner sags on the wall, and there you are—grinning like an idiot with a party popper, like you didn’t just ambush her fragile grip on sanity.

“Congratulations!”

She just… stares.

The weight—dread, fatigue, the whole suffocating mess—frays apart, leaving her raw.

“You made it a whole year,” you continue, motioning toward the cake on the table. “That’s huge. So, you know… I figured we should celebrate.”

It’s too much.

Not in the way work had been too much.

But in the way you always are.

Always paying attention. Always noticing the things she doesn’t say.

Always making it impossible for her to pretend this—you—don’t matter more than they should.

Her throat tightens.

Her fingers twitch, and she grips the strap of her bag a little harder, like she needs to hold onto something—anything—to keep herself from completely unraveling in front of you.

Right now, she wants to collapse into you—arms, warmth, all of it—and that scares her shitless.

She swallows hard, choking out, “You’re an idiot,” as she steps past, voice thinner than she means it to be.

“You’re welcome,” you shoot back easily, like this is just another one of your usual exchanges.

She sets her bag down. Breathes in.

But it’s different now. Everything feels different now.

Because this isn’t something she can brush off anymore.

Not when the sight of you—standing there, waiting for her—could turn her worst day into something else entirely.

She thought to herself. At this rate…

… we couldn’t be friends anymore…

… Is what you thought.

It crept up on you slowly.

At first, living with Yuqi was just supposed to be convenient. A temporary solution, nothing more. You were friends—it was easy, effortless, like always.

But then, things started changing.

You woke up earlier than expected, your throat dry, half-asleep as you dragged yourself toward the kitchen.

But before you could even reach the sink, the bathroom door swung open—

—and Yuqi stepped out. signing in fragments, lyrics clearly improvised, steam curling around her like a scene straight out of a movie.

Your brain short-circuited.

Dripping hair. Bare shoulders. A towel wrapped hugging around her body, another loosely draped over her head. She wasn’t even fully dry yet, droplets trailing down her collarbone, tracing down to her chest, disappearing beneath—

Oh, fuck.

She froze mid-step, finally noticing you.

“Oh, shit!”

Your mouth opened before your brain could catch up. “Morning.”

Her grip tightened on the towel around her chest. “You—you’re up early.”

“And you’re… in towels.”

A beat of silence.

Don’t say something stupid. Don’t say something stu—

“Yeah, you have to stop doing that.”

Yuqi scowled. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I wouldn’t if that wasn’t my towel on your head.”

“why is it a big deal, this is my home—”

“I pay for half.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s my house. I’ll do what I want.”

And before you could argue, she yanked the towel off her head and chucked it straight at your face.

By the time you pulled it away, she was already gone, bolting to her room like her life depended on it.

Then—

A muffled scream of frustration from behind her door.

You exhaled sharply, pressing the towel against your face—less to dry off, more to hide the heat creeping up your skin.

“Fuck.”

Then there was this one time, when you were setting up the new shelf.

Yuqi insisted she didn’t need help—because of course she did—but five minutes in, she was already struggling to balance the frame while reaching for the screws.

"You're gonna drop it," you warned, watching from the couch.

"I'm not gonna drop it," she shot back, fumbling with the last screw.

The universe, apparently, took that as a challenge.

The shelf wobbled. Yuqi yelped. And before either of you could react, she lost her footing.

She crashed into you, sending you both toppling backward.

A thud, a gasp, and suddenly—

She was on top of you.

Chest pressing into yours. Hands braced on either side of your head. Her face so close that you could feel her breath against your lips, just barely—

Neither of you moved.

Yuqi’s eyes flickered down—just for a second, barely noticeable—before snapping back up, wide and unguarded.

You swallowed.

“…You okay?” Your voice came out rougher than intended.

“I—” She blinked, like she just realized what happened. Her breath hitched. Then, in the most unconvincing voice possible— “Yeah. Totally fine.”

Neither of you made a move to get up.

The moment stretched, tension thick enough to drown in.

Then—

“Yuqi.”

“What?”

“You're still on top of me.”

“…Oh. Right.”

She scrambled off, way too fast for someone who was supposedly “totally fine.” Turning away, she ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply.

You sat up, clearing your throat. The air between you still felt charged, buzzing with something neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

She finally looked at you—pointedly not at your lips.

“Shut up,” she muttered.

You hadn’t even said anything yet.

And then there were the bad days.

Yuqi was loud.

You were used to it by now—the way she talked, argued, and debated like she was on some national stage. But tonight, it was worse. Her voice carried through the living room, sharp and insistent, cutting through the walls of your room.

You could tell she wasn’t just talking—she was venting.

You didn’t interrupt.

Didn’t step in.

Just waited.

Then—

A knock on your door.

Soft, hesitant. Almost out of character.

“…You wanna drink?”

When you opened the door, Yuqi was standing there, arms crossed, gaze flickering to the side. The frustration from earlier had dimmed, replaced by something more subdued.

You didn’t question it. Just grabbed your jacket. “Let’s go.”

The city felt different at night. Quieter, almost peaceful, the usual rush of people replaced by empty sidewalks and the occasional streetlight glow.

Yuqi walked beside you, hands stuffed in her pockets, gaze tilted toward the sky. The stars were faint, barely visible between the buildings, but she looked at them anyway.

“…You ever feel like you’re running out of time?”

You glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

She exhaled, kicking a stray pebble on the pavement. “I dunno. Just—sometimes it feels like I need to keep going. Like if I stop, even for a second, I’ll fall behind. And I hate that feeling.”

You stayed quiet, letting her talk.

“But then I think… what if I don’t even know where I’m running to?”

That, you understood.

You let the silence settle before answering. “You don’t have to figure everything out now, you know.”

She scoffed. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“Is it?” You gave her a pointed look. “You’re the one who’s always giving me advice.”

Yuqi opened her mouth—then shut it, visibly chewing over your words.

You smirked. “Not so fun being on the other end, huh?”

She shoved your shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

The walk continued, and little by little, the weight in her expression faded. The tension in her shoulders eased, her usual energy returning in small doses—first in the way she kicked at a stray pebble, then in how she scoffed at one of your dumb remarks.

By the time you made it back to your place, she was… lighter.

As you reached the door, she stretched her arms above her head with a sigh. “You know what? I don’t think I need that drink anymore.”

You raised a brow. “So I got dragged out here for nothing?”

“I never dragged you—”

You gave her a look.

“…Okay, maybe a little,” she admitted, rolling her eyes. Then, after a beat, softer—“But it helped, so. Thanks.”

A pause.

Then, quieter—“I mean it.”

You stared at her, the soft glow of the streetlights casting a halo over her face.

Something shifted.

The air felt heavier, charged with something neither of you dared name. It would’ve been easy to brush it off, to make a joke and keep walking—

But before you could find the words, she turned away, already unlocking the door.

“Alright, I’m going to bed. Night, loser.”

The moment passed, or at least, it should have.

But just as you were about to head to your room, Yuqi hesitated.

She turned back, her hand lingering on the doorknob, lips parting like she wanted to say something—then stopping. You caught it then, the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, rare and fleeting.

And then, finally—

“…Hey.”

You raised a brow. “What?”

She exhaled, tapping her fingers against the doorframe. “Do you remember that stupid bet we made during freshman year?”

You blinked. “Which one?”

“The one where if either of us ever fell for the other, your dic…” She trailed off, then cleared her throat. “Y’know. And I’d have to shave my head.”

You let out a short laugh. “Oh. That bet.”

Back then, rumors about you two dating spread so quickly it became a joke among your classmates. You and Yuqi played along, turning it into a challenge—there’s no way we’d fall for each other. If either of you did, the consequences were extreme.

It was dumb.

It was funny.

It should’ve stayed that way.

But that night?

that night, the words felt heavier.

You studied her expression, trying to gauge where she was going with this. “Why? You getting nervous?”

She scoffed. “Pfft. You wish.”

But there was something in the way she said it. A little too quick, a little too defensive.

You smirked. “Worried about your hair, huh?”

“More like you should be worried,” she shot back, but she wasn’t looking at you when she said it.

You snorted. “Unfair, by the way. I have to cut my dick off, while you only have to shave your head. I can’t believe we agreed to it.”

“…Me either,” she mumbled under her breath.

It was so quiet, so fleeting, you almost missed it. Almost.

For a split second, neither of you spoke.

Then she rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I was just asking. Night, loser.”

Before you could respond, she was inside, the door clicking shut behind her.

You stood there for a second, staring at the empty space where she had just been.

Your bet.

Freshman year.

We will never fall for each other.

You exhaled, running a hand down your face as the thought echoed in your head.

It was supposed to be a joke. A ridiculous bet between two people who swore they’d never be that kind of cliché.

And yet…

Tonight happened.

You expected her to be surprised by the celebration. Maybe even a little annoyed at the mess—the scattered decorations, the cake waiting on the table, the small banner you hastily put together.

What you didn’t expect was the way her expression cracked—just for a second. The way her eyes softened, something raw and unguarded flickering across her face before she caught herself. Before she scoffed, gripping her bag a little too tightly, and muttered, “You’re such an idiot.”

You should’ve let it go. Just laughed, moved on, kept things the way they were.

But she didn’t move.

She stood there, caught between hesitation and something she wouldn’t name, and suddenly, it wasn’t just about tonight.

It was about all of it—the late-night talks when she came home exhausted but still found a way to smile, the quiet gestures, the way she made space for you without even realizing it.

It was the fact that today wasn’t just one year since she started her job.

It was one year since she moved in. One year since this place started feeling a little fuller. A little more like home.

And it hit you then.

All the moments that snuck up on you, that built up piece by piece until there was no more denying it.

Because at some point—somewhere between the shared space, the stolen glances, the lines you swore you’d never cross—

You started falling for her too.

The apartment was quiet except for the soft clinking of utensils against ceramic.

Yuqi sat across from you, the warm glow of the dining room light casting a soft hue over her face. She took a bite, chewing slowly, and then—there it was.

That small, bittersweet smile.

You didn’t know what it meant, not exactly. But you knew it wasn’t the usual smug grin she wore when she teased you, nor the triumphant smirk she had when she got her way.

It was softer. More subdued. Like she was savoring something that wasn’t just the food.

You should’ve looked away. Focused on your plate. Kept things normal. But you didn’t.

Instead, you watched her, your grip tightening around your fork as the weight of everything settled in your chest.

You weren’t looking at her as a friend. Not anymore.

After dinner, Yuqi disappeared into her room while you started cleaning up. You heard the faint rustling of fabric, the sound of a drawer closing, but you didn’t think much of it—until she reemerged.

She padded into the living room in an old t-shirt and a pair of short shorts, her hair slightly damp, probably from washing up. The sight of her like this—comfortable, effortless—made something twist in your chest, but you shoved it down.

Wordlessly, she plopped onto the couch as you finished wiping the table, then leaned back against the cushions, stretching her legs out lazily.

By the time you grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, she was already making herself at home, one arm draped over the backrest like she belonged there.

You handed her a can, and she took it without a word, cracking it open with a soft hiss.

The TV flickered in the dimly lit apartment, the background noise of a movie filling the space between you.

At some point, between the second beer and the slow lull of the film, Yuqi leaned into the cushions, her body naturally angling toward yours.

Neither of you said much—just the occasional comment, the quiet laughter. But even in the silence, it felt... easy. Comfortable.

And then the credits rolled.

The screen faded to black, leaving nothing but the soft glow from the city lights seeping through the window. The noise stopped.

And yet, you didn’t reach for the remote.

You glanced at her, watching as she traced the rim of her bottle with her thumb. Her expression was unreadable, but there was something contemplative in the way she exhaled, sinking deeper into the couch.

You hesitated, then asked, “Everything okay at work?”

She blinked, as if shaking off a thought. “Ye—yeah. Just some problems here and there, I guess.”

“Nothing you couldn’t handle, I assume.”

She snorted, tilting her head to look at you. “Of course not. Do you even know who you’re talking to?”

There she was again—the Yuqi you knew. The one who never backed down, who met everything head-on with that sharp, unshaken confidence.

But you’d seen her earlier. The way she lingered at the door. The way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes tonight.

You hummed, setting your bottle down. “That so?”

Her brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you mused, stretching your arm along the back of the couch. “Just wondering if the great Song Yuqi is finally showing signs of weakness.”

She scoffed, turning to fully face you now, eyes narrowing. “You—”

Then, without warning, she flicked your forehead. Hard.

You flinched. “Ow—what the hell?”

“That’s for being annoying,” she said smugly, leaning back like she’d won something.

Oh. That’s how she wanted to play it?

Fine.

You barely gave her a second to react before your hand shot out, fingers pressing into her side.

The moment she realized what was happening, her smirk vanished.

“Wait—no! No, no, no! Don't tickle me” she yelped, twisting away instinctively. “You—asshole—stop!”

But you didn’t stop.

“Think you can flick me and walk away?” you taunted, fingers digging into her sides, relentless as she writhed against the couch, laughter spilling wild between you.

You pressed in, grinning, chasing her squirming frame—her giggles breaking apart into breathless, jagged bursts. She swatted at you, sloppy and weak, but you had the upper hand, her strength no match for yours.

“Admit it,” you teased, skimming the tender spot just below her ribs, knowing it’d unravel her.

“N-never—!” she choked out, twisting under you, her voice fraying as she fought your grip.

The couch groaned under the tussle—her thrashing, your weight shifting—and without thinking, you slid forward, pinning her deeper into the cushions. Your knee nudged between her thighs, pressing firm against her heat.

It didn’t register at first—too lost in the game, her laughter ringing sharp and bright. But then her giggles stumbled, thinning into ragged breaths. Her hands, once shoving, latched onto your arms, fingers digging in—not pushing now, but clinging.

You felt it—the hitch in her chest, the way her body stiffened, then softened, melting against you. Her laughter faded, replaced by something breathier, needier—a sound caught halfway between a gasp and a plea.

And then it slipped out—a moan, soft and unbidden, trembling past her lips.

Everything froze.

Your fingers stalled against her waist, her nails bit into your skin, and the air turned thick, electric. Her eyes snapped wide, lips parted, shock flickering over her face as her breath raced—short, shallow, unraveling.

Your pulse thundered, drowning out the silence, and that’s when you clocked it—your knee, still wedged between her thighs, pressed flush against her warmth.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you breathed.

The laughter was dead.

Something else took its place—hot, heavy, and undeniable.

You cleared your throat, a feeble attempt to break the spell, to shake off the weight of what had just happened. Slowly, you pulled away, putting space between you before you lost the will to.

Your eyes flickered anywhere but at her—afraid to see what lingered in her expression. Fear? Surprise? Or something else entirely?

You pushed yourself up, ready to remove yourself from the couch, from the heat still clinging to your skin—But then. A tug. Subtle, hesitant.

Fingers curled around your wrist, just tight enough to stop you. To hold you in place.

To keep you from leaving the moment.

You turned, catching the flush creeping up her neck, her lips parted as she refused to meet your gaze.

“Yuqi…” you groaned, your voice strained, warning.

Her grip on your wrist tightened. “Do—don’t leave.”

That was all it took.

You moved back toward her, hesitant but drawn in all the same. The space between you shrank, your breath mingling with hers, lips barely a whisper apart. Her fingers twitched against your skin, but she didn’t pull away.

You could feel the heat radiating from her, the way her chest rose and fell, the way her body swayed ever so slightly in your direction. Just a little more and—

“Wait—!”

Her hands shot up, pressing against your chest—not forceful, not pushing you away completely, but enough to halt you in place.

Your jaw clenched. You stayed there, hovering, pulse hammering in your throat.

“What do you want, Yuqi?” you asked, your voice low, steady despite the storm inside you. “Be clear with me.”

She hesitated, eyes darting anywhere but yours. You felt it—the war within her, the pull and the push, the fear and the want.

You exhaled, nodding slightly. “Okay.”

You started to move back, giving her the space she seemed to need—

But then, just as you did, her arms looped around your neck, her body pressing against yours, her warmth, her scent, her head rising for her lips to meet yours.

Briefly, she pulls away gauging your reaction.

You cursed under your breath, a quiet, ragged sound, because you knew—knew—that if she kept holding onto you like this, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

Your hands found her waist, fingers curling instinctively, and before you could think better of it, you scooped her up.

Yuqi gasped, eyes widening. “Wha—what are you doing?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

You carried her past the dimly lit hallway, You stop at before the doors of your rooms.

Yuqi who had grasp your intention, murmured close to your chest “Mine—my room.” giving a answer to your conundrum.

Carrying her through the threshold of her room, our grip firm yet careful, your body thrumming with something dangerously close to surrender.

Then, as gently as you could, you set her down.

The bed dipped beneath her weight, her body sinking into the sheets.

And for a moment—just one agonizing moment—silence stretched between you. To pause. To asses. To decide.

Her breath came in uneven waves, fingers clutching the comforter beneath her, knuckles whitening as if it were an anchor. She looked like she was bracing herself—teetering on the edge of a decision, weighing what came next.

You hovered above her, resolve fraying, the heat of her body pulling you closer, unraveling every thread of restraint—

“…The—the door,” she whispered, voice barely audible, trembling with something fragile.

You pulled back, glancing toward it. “If I lock that, there’s no turning back.”

Her eyes flickered, wide and searching, then steadied. “I—I think it’s… it’ll be okay. If it’s you, I want it.”

The door clicked shut with her words, a soft, final sound that echoed in the quiet. You returned to her, sliding back onto the bed, looming over her frame—close enough to feel the faint tremor in her breath. “Do you even know what you just said?”

“Stop talking to me like a kid,” she snapped, her voice sharpening, though it wavered at the edges.

“That’s not an answer.” You held her gaze, unflinching. “Do you want to sleep with me?”

“Uh… yes.” The word slipped out, small and shaky, laced with fear and a defiance testing her own limits. She swallowed hard, then added, “Why? Don’t you want to?”

You shifted closer, your nose brushing hers, so near you could taste the alcohol on her breath—sharp and warm, mingling with the heat radiating off her skin. Her heavy exhales grazed your lips, and the air between you thickened, charged with something neither of you could name.

“What is this?” you murmured, half to yourself. Song Yuqi—bold, unshakable Yuqi—lay beneath you, face flushed crimson, pride crumbling into doubt. Her words stumbled, her usual fire dimmed, and you couldn’t help but press. “Are you really Yuqi?”

Maybe you were stalling too—teasing her, skirting the edge of what you both knew was coming, afraid to leap.

Then, out of nowhere, her hand shot up, smacking your chin with a clumsy shove, forcing distance between you.

“Ugh! I don’t know anymore, okay?! I haven't done this before!” she yelled, voice cracking with frustration. “Just—hurry up and show me your dick already!”

Her legs thrashed, feet flailing against the mattress in a wild, petulant burst. “You—crazy—woman” you blurt out.

You lunged forward, seizing her ankles, pinning them to the mattress with a firm, unyielding grip. “Calm down,” you said, voice low and steady, anchoring her as her chest heaved, the wild outburst dissolving into a taut, trembling stillness.

Her eyes flashed, defiant even now. “What, are you scared?”

You leaned in close, her challenge igniting something reckless in you. “You’re about to get fucked senseless.”

She smirked, unshaken, her voice a dare. “I think you’re the one who’s sca—sacred. Prove it.”

You crashed into her, lips seizing hers with raw, tongue intruding into her mouth, bruising hunger. Your hand slid up, fingers knotting in the back of her hair, yanking her closer—deeper—until no space remained, her frantic breaths fusing with yours in a desperate, unrelenting tangle.

Your other hand found her breast, cupping it firmly, and a sharp whimper broke from her throat—soft, unguarded, trembling against your mouth.

You pulled back just enough to rasp, “Do you want more? Tell me if you don’t.” “Ah!” she gasped, startled by the sudden absence of your lips, her voice faltering. “Uh—uh… it’s okay…”

You dove back in, claiming her mouth again, fiercer now, your hand slipping beneath her shirt.

Fingers roamed her chest, squeezing through the thin fabric of her bra, rucking up her clothes in the chaos. The hem of her shirt climbed past her breasts, her bra tugged askew—one pale pink nipple already peeking free, stark against her skin.

“Yu—qi,” you murmured, breaking the kiss again, though your lips hovered close, tethered by a glistening thread of saliva that refused to snap. “Do you want this?”

“I want it, yes,” she panted, breathless, her words tumbling out in a rush.

You guided her arms up, stretching them straight above her head, and she followed—pliant, trusting.

Your hands gripped the edge of her dress, peeling it upward, sliding it off in one fluid pull. Then, just as swiftly, you hooked her shorts, tugging them down as she lifted her legs to help, the fabric slipping free and pooling forgotten on the floor.

There she lay—pale skin glowing faintly in the dim light, her fit frame taut and trembling. Blonde hair spilled across the bed in wild, tangled waves, framing her like a halo gone rogue. Her white underwear clung to her hips, stark against her flush, one bra strap sagging, the displaced cup exposing a modest breast, its pink nipple hardened in the cool air. She blushed deep, one arm crossing shyly over her waist, the other hovering near her mouth, fingers brushing her lips as if to hide.

Her eyes darted away, unable to hold yours. “Why are you just staring?” she mumbled, voice small, edged with nerves she couldn’t quite mask.

You exhaled, a faint chuckle slipping out as you shook your head. “I’m just trying to figure out how you still look like a menace even when you’re—” Your words snagged mid-sentence as her glare cut through you, her cheeks blazing.

“Don’t,” she warned, voice tight.

You smirked, tilting your head. “Don’t what?”

Her eyes narrowed, sharp and accusing. “You know what.”

You leaned in, your breath grazing her skin, close enough to feel her tense. “What? I thought you lived for praise about your beauty.”

She swallowed hard, throat bobbing, fingers twisting into the sheets. Then, so soft it nearly slipped past—

“It’s different when it’s you.”

“Well, you are beautiful, Yuqi. I mean it.”

Her breath hitched at the words, a flicker of protest rising—ready to snap at your sly jab—but before she could, your lips found her neck, pressing firm and warm. Your hand slid to her breast, fingers brushing the exposed nipple, teasing it into a stiff peak.

She stiffened, a fleeting push against your chest, but it melted away fast—her resistance crumbling as you lavished her skin with attention.

“It… tickles,” she murmured, voice wobbling, half a complaint, half a surrender.

Your hand snaked behind her, deftly unhooking her bra with a flick. You tugged it free, letting it fall aside, her breasts spilling out—modest, pale, and perfect in the dim light. No hesitation—you dove in, lips closing over one nipple, sucking gently while your fingers toyed with the other, rolling it between them.

“Hey,” she gasped, a shaky laugh threading through her words, “aren’t you too good at this?”

You didn’t answer, too lost in her—her taste, her warmth, the way her whimpers grew sharper, rewarding every flick of your tongue, every pinch of your fingers. You pulled back, just enough to take her in fully—sprawled beneath you, clutching the sheets with white-knuckled desperation. Her blonde hair fanned wild across the bed, pale skin flushed deep, chest rising and falling in jagged bursts.

Your hands returned, pinching both nipples now, firm and deliberate. Her eyes—barely open—fought to hold yours, glazed with pleasure, her tongue slipping out as her mouth parted. Words failed her, dissolving into a string of moans and broken whimpers, the only sounds she could muster as she drowned in the sensation.

Wa—wait a sec…” She propped herself up against the pillow, hands darting to your face. Her fingers dug into your cheeks, pulling you in—too close, her touch firm and insistent.

“Kissing really feels good, don’t you think?” she mused, voice lilting with forced casualness. Her thumbs brushed slow, deliberate circles against your skin, betraying the act. “Especially when you feel it—you know, with tongues and everything.”

You arched a brow, amusement curling your lips. “Are you fishing for a kiss?”

She scoffed, but her hands didn’t budge, fingers lingering like they’d fused to you. “I’m just saying,” she huffed, eyes flicking aside, dodging yours. “No harm in a little discussion, right?”

You smirked, reading her like an open book—her little game, the way she circled what she craved, betting you’d cave first. “Just discussing, then?” you teased, tilting your head with mock innocence. “So I shouldn’t do it?”

Her grip faltered, a flash of panic skittering across her face. “I didn’t sa—”

She didn’t finish.

Your lips crashed into hers, silencing her protest, swallowing her words in a swift, ravenous press. Her breath snagged against your mouth, a sharp hitch—and for a fleeting second, she froze, caught off guard. Then she melted, hands slipping to grip your jaw, and before you could take control, her tongue darted forward—bold and sure, sliding into your mouth like she’d been waiting for this all along. The kiss deepened fast, tongues clashing in a messy, heated tangle, her pretense torched by the hunger she couldn’t hide.

Your hands roamed, restless—sliding down her sides, then lower, until they settled at her crotch. Fingers brushed the fabric of her panties, then slipped beneath, meeting slick heat that made your pulse jump. She was already wet, soaked through, and a low groan rumbled in your throat as you felt her.

You pulled back from the kiss, lips parting with a wet smack, and her eyes fluttered open, dazed and glassy. Your other hand hooked into her waistband, yanking the white fabric down her thighs in one rough tug, peeling it free and tossing it aside. She gasped, legs trembling as the cool air hit her bare skin.

“Already this wet?” you teased, voice gravelly, a smirk curling your lips. “You little pervert.”

Her face blazed red, embarrassment clashing with a spark of defiance in her eyes, but she didn’t pull back—her breath jagged, teetering between a snap and a whimper.

“Dum—dumbass, that’s what happens when—”

You didn’t let her finish. Your fingers pressed to her folds, slick and warm, rubbing along her slit with slow, deliberate strokes. Her grip on your neck tightened, nails biting into your skin, while her other hand fumbled to clutch your arm, trembling as her tongue slipped out, instinctive and desperate.

“Wha—what are you doing? St—stop—” she stammered, voice fracturing, but her hands betrayed her, sliding back to clutch the pillow behind her, knuckles whitening as she braced against the onslaught. “It fee—it feels weird. Really weird!” she cried, her tone pitching into a yell, raw and unraveling.

Her body locked tight for a split second—then shattered. Her back arched sharp off the bed, head snapping back into the pillow, a convulsion ripping through her as her thighs quaked. A rush of wet heat surged against your hand, her juices spilling out, soaking your fingers and dripping onto the sheets beneath. Her breath came in broken gasps, chest heaving, her tongue lolling slightly as the waves crashed over her, leaving her trembling in their wake.

“Fuck… shit…” she rasped, hands flying to cover her face, the flush so deep it seemed to bleed through her fingers, staining them red.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Why are you suddenly cursing?”

“No, no, I mean…” She peeked through her hands, voice small but edged with frustration. “Be—because my sheets… they’re all wet now.”

“Oh, uh… sor—sorry…” you muttered, heat creeping up your own neck.

Her eyes flicked to yours, still glassy from the haze, then narrowed with a glint of mischief. “Then… hurry up and take off your pants already,” she ordered, voice low and impatient.

You rose to your feet on the bed, shedding your pants and briefs in a quick, fumbling pull, letting them drop away. Your dick sprang free, hard and hovering above her as she sat back on her knees, gazing up at you. The sight alone—her pale, flushed body, blonde hair spilling wild, those sharp eyes locked on you—hit like a punch, and her intense stare only made it worse. You couldn’t hold it; your gaze skittered away, heat crawling up your neck.

“Hmmm… hey, what’s wrong?” she hummed, a smug grin creeping across her lips. “Why’re you suddenly shy now?”

“It’s reasonable with this view,” you muttered, voice snagging in your throat, barely dodging her piercing stare.

“Is that so?” Her smug grin bloomed wide, teetering on a giggle. She edged closer, her face drifting nearer—dangerously near—to your cock, so close a twitch could’ve brushed her lips. Then her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your length, forming a tight ring just below the head. The sudden heat of her grip hit you hard—soft skin, firm pressure, a jolt of warmth that shot straight up your spine, making your breath catch and your hips tense instinctively. She started stroking, slow and deliberate, her palm sliding smooth against you, each pull tugging a raw, electric pulse through your core. “How is it? Is it okay? Does it feel good? Does it hurt?”

“You know, for someone who doesn’t know what she’s doing, you’re pretty damn bold,” you said, half-breathless, a smirk tugging despite the way her touch was unraveling you—every stroke a tease, her fingers tight enough to edge you toward losing it.

She ignored you, eyes flicking up with a glint of mischief, her hand keeping its rhythm—steady, maddening, the friction building heat that made your thighs twitch. “Doesn’t it feel good? Are you in paradise yet? You can cum—go ahead, it’s fine! Cum quick! Why aren’t you cumming? What’s wrong?!” Her questions tumbled out, fast and insistent, voice rising with a mix of glee and frustration.

“Yuqi, calm down,” you managed, voice straining as her pace quickened your pulse, her grip coaxing a throb you could barely hold back. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“It’s so warm,” she said, a grin tugging at her lips, “I could use it as a hand warmer.”

“Then tell me when you’re cold next time,” you shot back, half-jesting, legs trembling as you teetered between giving in to the pleasure and laughing at her ridiculous innocence. “I’ll whip it out for you.”

Her hand stilled mid-stroke, eyes snapping up to meet yours—sharp, focused, like she’d just clocked her next move and was weighing whether to go for it. Then she did. Her lips parted, soft and tentative, brushing against your tip. She pressed forward, mouth opening wider, her tongue flicking out to guide you in, warm and wet as it curled around the head.

She lingered there, treating it like a lollipop—licking slow, deliberate laps, tilting her head with each pass as if testing every angle. Her movements were clumsy, unpracticed—teeth grazing you now and then, a faint scrape that sent a jolt through you. A stray thought flickered: She might actually bite it.

And then, as if she’d snatched the thought right out of your skull, the ever-impulsive Yuqi went for it. Her teeth clamped down—not hard, just a quick pinch—sending a jolt of shock and a strange, sharp thrill spiking up your spine.

“Fuck—let go, you dumbass!” You yanked yourself back, pulling free from her mouth with a hiss.

“What the hell made you think biting it was a good idea?!”

“Ahh, sorry, sorry—I’m really sorry!” she blurted, eyes wide with panic, guilt flooding her face so fast it almost convinced you she didn’t mean it. “I didn’t even realize what I was doing!”

“Song Yuqi, get over here,” you said, voice firm, cutting through her fluster.

“Ar—are you okay?” she stammered, inching closer, her tone softening like a scolded puppy caught in the act. “Looks like you’re fine, though…”

You tugged her by her waist, laying her flat on the bed, your hand curling around her hip to pull her close. Fingers traced a slow, deliberate path from her knees up to her core, brushing her skin with intent. “Why’d you try to bite me? Do you want to be scolded, is that it?”

She turned her head, dodging your stare, her voice sinking to a sheepish mumble. “It looked delicious… so I thought I’d take a bite…”

You leaned in, capturing her lips again, kissing her deep and slow as you shifted between her thighs. Your hands nudged her legs apart, her skin warm and trembling under your touch. Your cock brushed her folds—slick, hot, a fleeting graze that made her breath hitch against your mouth.

You pulled back, eyes dropping to your shaft, guiding it with a steady hand. Your tip nudged her entrance, teasing her pussy with shallow dips, testing her heat. “Yuqi, you want to keep going?”

“Huh… How—how many times are you gonna ask?” she huffed, voice quivering, each word stuttering in time with the faint pulses of your cock against her. “Are you deaf…?”

You pressed in, your tip slipping past her entrance, sinking just enough to feel her tighten around you. A whimper spilled from her lips, quick and sharp, and you froze. “Are you alright? Should I go slower…?”

“Y—yes…!” she gasped, breaths shallow and ragged, holding them like she could trap the sensation inside.

“Yuqi, I want you to be comfortable,” you murmured, voice low, careful. “Tell me if it hurts—”

“Hey…” Her eyes glimmered, wet with tears—some already streaking down her flushed cheeks. She grabbed one wrist with her other hand, pinning her arms above her head, a shaky attempt at control. “Fu—fucking a beauty like me must feel good, right…?”

Even now, she bluffed—voice cracking, bravado fraying—but she wasn’t wrong. She felt incredible, her walls gripping you tight, pulsing hot around the bare inch you’d slipped inside, coaxing you deeper despite her trembling.

“…You just want to keep messing with me, don’t you…?” she murmured, eyes glinting through the haze.

“You keep doing it too,” you shot back, a faint smirk tugging at your lips.

“I’m gonna move a little,” you said, voice low. “Tell me if it hurts.”

“Mmhh,” she hummed, nodding faintly, her breath already shallow.

You pressed deeper, sliding slow and steady, her heat swallowing you inch by inch. Her body tensed, a soft gasp escaping as you sank further.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, pausing. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, voice thin but firm, her eyes locked on yours.

“Then I’ll move a little more…?”

Your hands slid to her thighs, fingers digging into her soft flesh as you pulled her closer, burying your entire length inside her in one smooth thrust. She clenched around you, a tight, wet pulse that made your breath hitch.

“You’re really okay…?”

“Yeah… I’m good,” she managed, a shaky edge to her words. “Just… carry on, alright…?”

You grabbed her wrists, pinning them between you, tugging them toward your chest as you started to pump—slow at first, each thrust deliberate, feeling her stretch and yield. Her breath stuttered, eyes fluttering shut.

“Wha—what’s this… it feels so weird…” she gasped, voice breaking as her body rocked beneath you.

You quickened your pace, pounding faster, harder—stamina leaching with every sharp snap of your hips. Her moans poured out, jagged and piercing, swelling louder as you drove into her. Then, with a final thrust—deeper, fiercer than the rest—you buried yourself to the hilt, her head whipping back into the pillow, back bowing high off the bed. A raw, guttural moan ripped from her throat, her body quaking beneath you, clenching tight around your cock.

Out of breath, you propped yourself up on your arms, hovering over her sweat-slick frame. “Yuqi, you sure you’re okay? Should I go slower?”

She groaned, rolling her eyes despite the flush on her cheeks. “I told you I’m fine already—”

Her complaint drowned as you thrust back in, cutting her off, plunging deep to reclaim your rhythm. Her moans sang out again, sharp and sweet, and you drank them in, one hand finding her breast—cupping it firm, kneading the soft flesh, her nipple stiff and pressing into your palm like a needy pulse. You used it as leverage, anchoring yourself as you rocked into her.

“Raise your back,” you ordered, voice rough. She obeyed, arching up, and your hands slid to her waist, gripping her hips tight. With the new angle, you pulled her against you, thrusting harder, each slam sinking you deeper—her heat swallowing you, slick and tight, tugging you toward the brink.

The edge hit fast. Her walls spasmed around you, hot and relentless, a sudden, vise-like grip that yanked you over. You groaned low, thrusts stuttering as you came—thick, pulsing spurts flooding her, the wet heat of her pussy milking every last drop, a dizzying rush that blurred your senses. Yuqi shattered with you—her moans spiking into a broken cry, legs trembling, nails clawing the sheets as her climax tore through her. Her core clenched hard, a gush of warmth soaking you both, her body bucking against yours in wild, shuddering waves.

Exhausted, you slumped toward her, chest heaving. She met you halfway, mouth open, greedy—her lips crashing into yours, tongue darting out to pull yours in, tangling with a sloppy, desperate edge as she rode out the aftershocks pressed against you.

~🐶~

Yuqi teetered on the edge of consciousness, drunk on pleasure, her mind barely clinging to coherence in the quiet lull. She slumped back against you, her spine pressing into your chest as you hugged her tight from behind, your back braced against the headboard. Her breath came slow, ragged, her body limp yet humming with the afterglow.

Exhausted but not sated, she stirred as your hands roamed again. One slid to her breast, cupping it gently, fingers teasing the still-hard nipple—rolling it slow, coaxing a faint shiver from her. The other dipped lower, finding her clit, rubbing soft circles against the swollen bud. Her folds, slick and warm, rested heavy against your dick, subtly coating it with her dripping heat, a fresh trickle of her arousal seeping out as her body woke anew. She squirmed, a sleepy moan slipping free, her hips twitching instinctively into your touch—chasing more despite the haze.

Her mind spun, fragmented thoughts flickering through the haze: What should I do??

I’m actually doing it with him—with you.

Having sex with my friend—with you, of all people.

Yuqi’s thoughts snapped off, severed by a single, brutal thrust as you plunged back into her. Her body jolted, pinned tight against yours—your arms clamped around her, refusing her even an inch to squirm. A raw, involuntary moan tore from her throat, heat flooding her core as your cock filled her again, stretching her slick walls with a sudden, relentless pressure that made her head spin.

“You—you jerk!” she gasped, voice fracturing, each word sliced by whimpers and moans she couldn’t choke back. “Why did you suddenly—” Her sentence crumbled, drowned by the waves of pleasure rippling through her, your thrusts relentless, robbing her of breath and coherence. Her hand shot back, fingers tangling in your hair, yanking you closer in a clumsy, desperate retaliation—her nails scraping your scalp as she fought to reclaim some control.

“Fuck! It… feels so… good…” she moaned, the confession spilling out, her voice thick with surrender. Every slam of your hips sent a jolt through her—her insides clenching tight around you, a tingling heat pooling low, her thighs trembling against the onslaught.

Yuqi twisted her head toward you, lips parting, tongue lolling out in a silent plea. You met her halfway, your mouth crashing into hers, tongues tangling in a sloppy, wet mess—her saliva mixing with yours, sharp and bitter on her tastebuds, a hungry edge to the kiss that made her dizzy.

You paused, buried deep inside her, your length a thick, unyielding pressure stretching her core. Your voice rasped hot against her ear, rough and taunting. “Yuqi, why are you moaning so loud? You’re a total pervert, aren’t you?” Your hand clamped onto her breast, squeezing hard, fingers catching her nipple—pinching with a sharp twist that sent a jolt of heat stabbing through her chest, her skin tingling, raw under your grip.

“Wha—what?” The sudden stillness yanked her from her euphoria, your words sparking a flare of annoyance in her hazy mind. “I’m not a pervert! This is because—”

Her protest died as she felt you shift inside her—a subtle, deliberate twitch, just enough to press against her walls, sending a fresh ripple of pleasure curling through her belly. A whimper slipped out, soft and traitorously loud, snuffing her temper before it could catch.

“Is it because it doesn’t hurt anymore?” you teased, voice low, your breath grazing her neck. “You’re fully fitted to my cock now, is that it?” It wasn’t just a taunt—it was a truth she couldn’t dodge. She felt it: her body molded to you, slick and tight, every inch of her clinging like she’d been made for this. Denial burned on her tongue, but her silence betrayed her.

For a heartbeat, the air hung thick—then Yuqi felt it again. Your cock twitched inside her, a sudden, firm pulse that nudged against her walls, straining the tight grip she had on you. She barely registered it before your hands tightened on her hips, lifting her ass higher mid-thrust. The motion shoved her forward, a sharp jolt rocking through her core as you pumped harder, still buried deep. Her arms buckled under the force, knees skidding across the sheets, and she scrambled to catch herself—landing on all fours, ass propped high, her body trembling from the hot, aching stretch where you stayed lodged inside her.

“What are you—?!” she yelped, voice splintering, but before she could twist or protest, your weight shifted forward. You followed her down, pressing against her back—a solid, unrelenting heat pinning her in place as you kept thrusting, relentless, your rhythm unbroken, each slam sinking deeper into her slick, pulsing core.

uqi’s hand flailed back, fingers scrabbling for purchase against your relentless, rabid thrusts—each one slamming into her with a force that made her core throb and ache, a wild rhythm she couldn’t match. Tears streaked her cheeks, her cries spilling out sharp and broken as the pleasure drowned her, too much, too fast. Her grip faltered, and the bed seemed to tilt—your weight unsteady above her. In a clumsy tangle, you both toppled sideways, crashing onto the sheets. But the fall didn’t slow you—your hips kept pumping, unbothered, and now she was trapped. Your arms snaked around her, pinning her own against her chest, locking her tight in your embrace. She moaned helplessly, voice raw and trembling, as you ravaged her hole—each thrust a deep, merciless plunge that wrecked her from the inside out.

Then it hit—a sudden, electric shock blasted through Yuqi, sharp and blinding. Your cock struck her G-spot, a precise, brutal nudge that made her walls clamp down hard, a scream tearing from her throat as her body bucked wildly against you. You caught it—your rhythm shifted fast, seizing the moment. One hand hooked under her thigh, hoisting her leg up, twisting her into a scissoring sprawl. The angle split her open, and you drove deeper—impossibly deeper—your length grinding that spot with every thrust, a hot, pulsing pressure that sent shudders racing up her spine. Her slick heat drenched you, her core spasming out of control, and she couldn’t stop it—the moans, the tremors, the way her body gave in completely to the chaos you unleashed inside her.

Both of you gasped for air, a brief break settling in as your bodies stilled. The position shifted naturally—Yuqi’s eyes stayed clamped shut, too heavy to lift under the intensity, even now in the quiet. She couldn’t see, but she felt your shadow loom over her, your presence hovering close, a dark heat she sensed through her haze.

“Yuqi, get up,” you said, voice rough. She obeyed, dragging herself upright, though her lids barely cracked open—exhaustion weighing them down. You pulled her onto your lap, her thighs straddling yours, facing you. Your thrusts resumed, slower now, and she felt your mouth on her breast—lips sucking, tongue flicking her nipple, a wet, warm pull that sparked faint jolts through her chest. Her arms trembled as she propped herself against you.

Slowly, you reclined back, and Yuqi’s hands slid to the headboard, gripping it for balance. She didn’t know when it happened—her mind too foggy to track—but she realized she was moving, humping you on her own, hips rolling instinctively against your steady length. Her pace faltered, exhaustion creeping in, slowing her down. Then you took over—your hands gripped her hips, and you pumped up into her again, reigniting the fire in her core with each thrust.

Her hand shot to your hair, fingers twisting tight, yanking your face close. Her tongue lolled out, desperate, and you met it—your tongue tangling with hers, a sloppy, wet dance that tasted of sweat and need. “Hug me,” she rasped, tongue still out, voice thick. “Hug me,” she begged again, more frantic, a plea trembling on her lips.

Yuqi felt you overpower her—your arms wrapped around her, pulling her down until she crashed onto her back. She clung to you, arms looping around your neck, legs locking tight around your waist, holding you deep inside her. Any second now, she knew it—both of you teetering on the edge. Her thighs parted wider, welcoming your thrusts, her body aching for release.

Then it came. Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave—her walls seized around you, spasming hard, a gush of heat flooding her core as she shattered. She felt you pull out mid-clench, your cock slipping free, and a split second later, the hot, thick splatter of your cum streaked across her skin—her belly, her thighs—branding her as her own climax pulsed through. Her moans choked off, her vision blurred, and her consciousness slipped away, fading to black as the last shudder rocked her limp frame.

~~~

Yuqi woke up to warmth—soft fabric against her skin, the dull ache in her limbs, and the distant hum of the world outside.

Her brows furrowed, still caught in the haze of sleep, but something felt… off. The scent in the air wasn’t quite hers. The bed didn’t feel quite right.

Then, as she shifted, the sensation of bare skin against unfamiliar sheets jolted her fully awake.

Her eyes snapped open. Sunlight streamed through her curtains, too bright, too loud, as her pulse pounded in her ears. Her room. She was in her room. But—

The sheets. They weren’t hers.

Panic flared in her chest as fragments of last night started to piece themselves together.

Her breath hitched.

Oh. Oh, shit.

She sat up too fast, wincing as soreness bloomed through her body. That was another thing—the ache in her muscles, the evidence of everything she’d done, everything she’d let happen.

And then, finally, she noticed—

The oversized shirt slipping past her shoulder, familiar but not hers.

Your shirt. Her grip on the fabric tightened.

This wasn’t happening.

But the soreness in her body told her it was. The unfamiliar sheets told her it was. Your shirt draped over her skin—your scent clinging to it—told her it was.

Yuqi’s breath came uneven as the full weight of what she’d done crashed over her.

She’d slept with you.

You.

Her friend. Her longtime friend.

A sharp pang of regret twisted in her chest, not because she hadn’t wanted it—God, that was the worst part—she had wanted it. She had kissed you back, had let you undress her, had clung to you like you were the only thing keeping her grounded.

But she hadn’t expected it. Not like this. Not when she wasn’t ready to risk everything.

Not when it could ruin you.

She raked her hands through her hair, cursing under her breath. How the hell did she let it get this far? How the hell did she let herself fall?

The silence of the room felt suffocating. And you—where were you? Were you regretting it too? Were you somewhere in the apartment, figuring out how to tell her this was a mistake?

Her stomach churned at the thought.

The smell of food drifted into the room, warm and familiar.

Yuqi swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the bedsheet.

You’re cooking.

That meant you were still here. That meant you hadn’t run off in regret, hadn’t left her alone in this mess she didn’t know how to clean up.

Maybe… maybe it’s not too late.

If she just acted normal—if she pretended last night was a mistake, a stupid, drunken slip-up—maybe things wouldn’t have to change.

Maybe she wouldn’t have to lose you.

Yuqi exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers to her temples. Her thoughts spiraled, one after the other, faster than she could catch them.

What if you wanted to forget too? What if you were in the kitchen right now, thinking of ways to brush it off, to laugh about it, to shove it in the back of your minds where it could rot, untouched?

Could you both really pretend it didn’t happen? Could she?

She forced herself out of bed, her legs weak beneath her, the oversized fabric of your shirt hanging off her frame. She had to face you. She had to fix this before it shattered into something she couldn’t repair.

With careful steps, she made her way to the kitchen.

And there you were. Standing by the stove, spatula in hand, acting like this was just any other morning.

Her chest clenched.

Maybe it could be. Maybe if she played it right, you could go back.

She took a deep breath, steadied herself, then tried.

“So,” she started, keeping her voice light. Too light. “What’s for breakfast, chef?”

You turned slightly, meeting her gaze. And for a second—just a second—something flickered in your expression.

Something unreadable.

But then you smirked. “Figured you’d need something to get your strength back after last night.”

Her stomach dropped.

She forced a laugh. “Oh, shut up.”

You plated the food, setting it on the counter. “Not hungry?”

Yuqi hesitated. Her fingers curled around the hem of your shirt—her only layer of protection against the vulnerability clawing up her throat.

This was slipping. She could feel it.

“Look,” she said, trying to sound casual, like she wasn’t barely holding herself together. “Last night was… you know. We were drunk, and it just… happened.”

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you grabbed a glass of water, taking a slow sip before setting it down.

Then, you leveled her with a look.

“And?”

Yuqi blinked. “And?”

You leaned against the counter, arms crossing over your chest. “Are you trying to say it was a mistake?”

Her mouth opened. Nothing came out.

Because that’s not what she meant—not really.

But if she didn’t say it, if she didn’t put that distance back, she didn’t know what would happen.

She didn’t know if she could handle what would happen.

“I just think,” she tried again, voice weaker this time, “that we should just… go back. Like before. We don’t have to—”

“Yuqi. You know that's bullshit.”

She froze.

"That was four cans between us. You can drink five alone and still balance on a pole—don't act like that was the reason.”

The way you said her name—steady, firm, like you’d already made up your mind—it made her stomach twist.

“Before isn’t an option,” you said simply.

Four cans.

That’s all it was. Just four stupid cans.

And yet, here you were, looking at her like you were about to ruin everything.

The air in the room shifted—her room, but suddenly it didn’t feel like hers anymore. The sheets smelled like you, the oversized shirt hanging off her shoulders wasn’t hers either. Nothing felt like hers anymore, not even her own body, sore in places she had no right to acknowledge.

Her stomach twisted, panic crawling up her throat. No. No, no, no—

Her gaze dropped to the floor, unable—unwilling—to look at you. If she saw your face, if she saw the regret, the indifference, or worse, the pity—it would break her.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she blurted, voice thin, barely holding together. Maybe if she said it first, if she got ahead of it, she could stop whatever came next.

But then—

“Yuqi, being friends with you has been fun, but—”

But.

That one word shattered everything.

No. Not like this. Not you.

“But what?” Her voice cracked, too raw, too exposed. “Is that it? Over just like that?”

You didn’t say anything, and it made her chest tighten, like her ribs were caving in.

“Did you hate it that much?” she forced out, her hands fisting in the fabric of the sheets.

“No, Yuqi, not like that. Let me talk—”

“To what? To hear your excuse?” Her voice rose, frantic now. “How can you talk so calmly? Is that how it is? I’m the only one who actually valued this friendship? I make one mistake, and you’re already ready to leave?”

“Yuqi. Look at me.”

There was a weight in the way you said her name—stern, unyielding—but she didn’t want to hear it. Couldn’t.

Her breath hitched. Her hands trembled as she dug them into the mattress, nails pressing into the fabric, grounding herself.

“Why can’t you just stay?” Her voice was barely above a whisper now, desperate, fraying at the edges. “I’m sorry, okay? This—this was a one-time thing. That’s it. So you don’t have to leave. It doesn’t mean anything.”

It was a lie. A pathetic, miserable lie.

But if saying it kept you from walking away, then she’d let it shatter her.

Except—

Before she could breathe, before she could take it back—

Your lips crashed into hers.

You knew what she was thinking. You knew how much she was spiraling, how the weight of her own fears was crushing her. And maybe—probably—it was best to just tell her, to stop her panic before it got any worse.

But watching her like this, hopelessly caught in her own misunderstanding, her pride stripped away, her vulnerability laid bare… you couldn’t help but find her cute.

So you kissed her.

When you pulled away, her breath was shaky, her wide eyes darting between yours.

“Will you listen to me now?”

She nodded—barely, hesitantly—before her gaze dropped back to the floor.

You sighed. “Yuqi, we’ve been friends for a while—”

Her head shot up so fast you almost laughed. Her eyes were glassy, lips parted as if she was about to say something—

But before she could, you kissed her again, swallowing whatever words she had.

“We’ve been friends for a while,” you repeated against her lips, softer this time. “And I thought we were always going to stay that way. But this past year…”

She was shaking now, small, uneven trembles as her tears finally spilled over. She pouted, biting her lip, trying so hard to keep it together. You placed a hand on her head, fingers threading through her hair, petting her gently.

That was the trigger.

The dam broke.

Her shoulders shook as she let out a muffled, choked sob, burying her face into your chest.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “But this past year, Yuqi…” You wiped her tears away with your thumbs, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to look at you. “I realized how dumb I was to keep thinking of you as just a friend. An amazing woman like you—you’re funny, you’re smart, you work hard, you’re pre—beautiful, and above all, you’re confident in everything you do…”

Then, with a smirk, you added, “And it’s absolutely hilarious when you’re wrong.”

She punched you—hard enough to send the message, but too weak to actually hurt.

“What I’m trying to say is, I like you. And just like you, I was scared of losing you too, Yuqi.”

She sniffled, hastily wiping at her face, the reality of your words finally sinking in.

“…That’s why, um—”

“What?!”

“I’m asking—can we be together?”

Her breath hitched.

And then, with no warning, the tears came rushing back as she smacked your chest. “Of course we can, you idiot! Why didn’t you say that first?!”

You had no excuse, only laughter. You pulled her into your arms, and she clung to you just as tightly.

“Yuqi…” you whispered, lips brushing against her ear.

You kissed her cheek. Then her forehead. Then her lips. Slowly, tenderly, you moved downward, pressing soft kisses along her jaw, her neck—

And then, a loud growl rumbled through the silence.

Yuqi stiffened.

You froze.

And then—

You let out a loud snort.

Yuqi turned bright red. “Don’t—don’t laugh! I hate you.”

You grinned, pulling away just enough to meet her eyes. “I like you.”

She huffed, still flustered.

You raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Do you at least like my cooking?”

Her voice was small, barely above a mumble.

“…I—I like it.”

You smirked, reaching for her hand, your fingers brushing her sweat-damp skin. “Then come on, let’s eat before you actually pass out on me.”

But just as you turned toward the kitchen, a sharp tug yanked you back.

Her grip was firm on your wrist.

“What is it?” you asked, pivoting to face her.

Yuqi hadn’t moved, her body squirming slightly, thighs pressing together. Her hands fisted over the oversized shirt—your shirt—clutching the fabric low over her stomach like she could hide her itch you could scratch away. Her chest heaved, tits straining against the fabric, nipples poking through—already hard from the kiss earlier. Her face was red, not from embarrassment of her stomach, but from the heat that you just have built up.

She was still breathless, her chest rising and falling unevenly, her skin flushed in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion.

And her eyes—dark, hungry, locked onto you like she was barely holding herself back.

Your grin deepened.

You leaned in, close enough that she could feel the heat of your breath against her lips, but not close enough to give her what she wanted.

“Let’s eat first,” you murmured, your voice low, teasing.

Then, smirking, you added, “After, you can beg me to fuck you again.”

She shook, a quick, horny tremble.

And just like that, you pulled away, already heading toward the kitchen.

You didn’t have to look back to know she was still standing there, fuming, frustrated, and—most of all—waiting.

a/n: thanks for reading, also thoughts on the switching pov while maintaining 2nd pov ("you" pronoun)? Or is using 3rd person pov when in idols pov better?

#yuqi smut #gidle smut #male reader smut #kpop smut #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #idol x reader #idol x male reader #qwilorg

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torawro · 4 months ago

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i keep getting this message every time i try to edit a post (on mobile) that has several pictures right next to/stacked against each other. even posts in my drafts !!!!!!!! like i’m tryna update my pinned post and this is so frustrating. is there anyway to fix this or like troubleshoot it or something?????

Been a while since I've really used tumblr but this site just keeps breaking doesn't it

[ID: A pop-up message from tumblr that says, "Editing this particular post in the app may break its formatting. We recommend you edit on the web to preserve its excellence." End ID.]

#and what if i take a tumblr hiatus until they fix it #bc this is so limiting #i don’t even wanna edit in the desktop version bc that will ALSO change the formatting of my posts as well #at least that’s what happened for me in past experiences #SIIGGGGHHH what am i gonna do bro #hate this app.

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eunnieboo · 6 months ago

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IYHM ask replies! (2/3)

🌸 @csevet asked:

hi my copy of iyhm just came in and my fiancee and i snuggled up and read the whole thing cover to cover and CRIED!!! i love when lesbians 💕💞💝💗💝💗💘💞💖💗💝

AHHHHH thank you SO much!!! OMGGGGG 🥺 live laugh lesbian..... 💞💗💖💕💖💞💕💖💗

🌸 @chrysalis-the-butterfly asked:

I read If You'll Have Me a few months ago and I loved it! Your art is so pretty and Momo and PG are such cool characters! 🥰 If you're okay with sharing, I'd be interested to hear what inspired you during the creative process? Were there any pieces of media or any other characters which influenced the formation of Momo and PG? Or did you do your own thing?

oh my gosh! thank you!! i really love character interactions and relationship dynamics, so i wanted to depict two girls who seemed like opposites - one cool and laid-back, the other soft and sweet. after a while they started to take on a life of their own, and i thought it'd be wonderful if their story could evoke the feeling of a shoujo romance!

i had a lot of things on my mind when i wrote the script... friendship, intimacy, communication... communication can be so hard! sometimes it's harder with someone you're close to because their opinion is so important to you. and what happens when you've got a character who's non-confrontational and has low self-esteem + someone who prefers actions over words, and would rather burn bridges than admit to feeling vulnerable? how would they get past that? i wanted to write their flaws as believable, and how their life experiences have shaped the way they think about themselves / the way they respond to personal conflict... but also how they learn from each other and grow ❤️ tysm for the question!!

@bisexualgoof asked:

Hi Eunnie! I just finished reading “If You’ll Have Me” and let me tell you, it was spectacular! I saw it in a local bookstore the other day and it was a no brainer to grab. The characters are so fun, the story is beautiful and heartfelt, and honestly every character is attractive… I especially fell in love with the pages of the books without words, especially 312-313, it made me cry. Such beautiful art! I related to PG’s annoyance with her long hair, I felt very seen with her comments. I’ve definitely said “I’d like to forget” so many times myself, right to my butch heart haha. Thank you for sharing this story with the world, and thank you in particularly for your acknowledgment at the end of the book, it made me feel seen. What an amazing love story, hope to see more of this adorable couple in the future!

oh my goodness!! this is so lovely and wonderful and ahhh T_T thank you so very much. it's such a dream, having these girls be out in the world with their personalities and backstories revealed at last! and i'm so happy to hear about the cast and side characters, i love designing people hehe ♥ i'll definitely keep drawing this couple, alongside more sapphic couples that are to come 😍 thank you!!

🌸 @skittles-rainbow-cat asked:

HI HI HI!!! you’ve been one of my fave artists forever and i just got done with iyhm and it’s sooooo amazing im in love with it. also i think strawberry blonde by chloe moriondo fits mono and pg very well :] i hope you’re having a good day and thank you for all your art it heals me in many ways <3333

HIIII omg!!! thank you so much! this song is so cuteeee oh my gosh this line:

Takes my hand in hers when the lights aren’t on Smaller than mine and oh god I am gone

it's so sweet ;_; thank you forever, i hope you're having a wonderful day!! <3 <3 <3

🌸 @lord-of-the-froggies asked:

Howdy Eunnie! I know you're probably swamped with work right now, but I just wanna let you know that I got my copy of your book today!! I'm gonna start reading it right away, it looks and feels amazing. From a fellow Washington artist to another--congratulations on such a huge achievement!

yay hello fellow washingtonian! and fellow artist!! thank you so much for your kind words 🥺 and i'm so glad the book got to you safely! wishing you a happy read~

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I just found your art today and after scrolling through your stuff I went and pre-ordered your book. I'm so excited!!

omggg thank you that means so much!!! ;_; <3

🌸 @ddooyoung asked:

I got my (signed!) copy of the book, and I love it SO MUCH. It's everything I was hoping and more. I love finally getting to know them, especially Momo. Since the first time I saw them, I thought Momo was a lot like me and now I have confirmation 😆 Thank you so much for writing such a wonderful story!!! I'm excited for everything you do 💗

WAHH thank you so much!! yesss i'm so overjoyed to finally share their story after so long! i hope the signature turned out okay, i was very nervous signing books for the first time (shaky hand and everything) 😱 i think next time it would be fun to make a custom stamp and stamp a doodle next to my signature hehe. thank you again!!! 💕

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I somehow missed the news about your having created a whole damn book?? was just flipping through yu & me books's holiday gift guide and did a double take when I saw priscilla and momo!! zoomed in and sure enough, there was your name at the bottom! congrats on ihym and congrats on being featured on rec lists from shops as cool as yu & me 🎉😍

omggg thank you thank you!! 🥰 AHHH yu & me books looks so amazing! i've been to new york just once but if i ever get to go back i have to visit them... i'm always looking for indie bookstores to throw my money at 😤

🌸 Anonymous asked:

1. Will there be an “if you’ll have me” sequel? 2. Is Momo her full name or a Nick name? If it’s a Nick name what is her full name? Thank you i love your work! ❤️😊

ahh there's no sequel planned as of right now! but i'd love to make one if i get the chance... i have some ideas that i think would be fun <3 and momo gardner is her full name! i liked gardner because it made me think of flowers ☺️❤️ thank you so much!!

🌸 @upsidedown-shadow-dreamer asked:

Hello, long time fan here. If You'll Have Me was delivered an hour ago and I've already finished my first read. OMG it's AMAZING. I love the story, the beautiful art, the inner thoughts, the pacing, the page color changes for back story… Just major WOW. I hope you are so proud of this work. I'm already looking forward to reading it again. Thank you!!!

this is sooooo AHHHHH T_T i'm in tears. i can't tell you how happy and thrilled i am to hear this!!! it's so encouraging and uplifting and ahh!! i want to make more stories... and just knowing that this book will be read by the same person more than once, omg! it's truly the highest of praise. thank you from the bottom of my heart <333

🌸 Anonymous asked:

Hello!! I just remembered I could borrow graphic novels as e-books from my local library, found IYHM, devoured the entire thing in one sitting, then went through your tags so I could look at all your other IYHM art, and I was wondering if you'll make more stories about Momo and PG because I can't get enough of them! Absolutely obsessed with these two and I love seeing them so happy together 💖💖💖💖

hello!! oh i'm absolutely over the moon about this! i can definitely see myself making a follow-up book if i'm so lucky 🙏 but i'll keep on drawing more minicomics and illustrations no matter what!! thank you so much for this wonderful message 💕💕💕💕

🌸 Anonymous asked:

hi!! love love love your art!!! do you think we can expect to see another graphic novel about momo and priscilla in the future?

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I’ve read IYHM so many times already and I absolutely loved it!!!! Are you planning on writing another book with Momo and PG? Is is there a way we can buy more of your stories?

thank you both so much!!!! <3 a sequel is actually one of the ideas i pitched for my second book! my editor cautioned against it in case IYHM didn't perform well, so i ended up going in a different direction - but my fingers are crossed for future opportunities 😤 realistically, it will probably depend on sales... but for the record, i'd want to do one regardless of the numbers...

i have one more book coming out, which i'm working on right now! the timeline is a bit up in the air atm but i'll try to keep everyone posted. making a book is so slow but i'm so grateful to you all for waiting 🥺💛

🌸 @randomqueernoun asked:

Do you make webcomics for other apps/websites? If yes where can I find them and what do I search in them to find your comics?

ahh not at the moment! but thank you SO much for the interest! one of my biggest goals right now is to set up a website where i have all my work in one place, and that would definitely be the place where i post future webcomics 👀

also, just as an aside... i want to make webcomics so bad. i think after my next book, i might take a break from traditional publishing to do that. sometimes i can't believe i'm drawing hundreds of pages i can't post... i'm like, how are people supposed to read this if i can't show them? how will they know?! ahh it kills me... but yes... someday!!!

part 3 to come~

#iyhm #replies #csevet #chrysalis-the-butterfly #bisexualgoof #skittles-rainbow-cat #lord-of-the-froggies #ddooyoung #upsidedown-shadow-dreamer #randomqueernoun #anon

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adragonsfriend · 4 months ago

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Ways to Write a Meaningful AO3 Comment…

…or frankly, a comment on any writing or artwork where your primary goal is to encourage and appreciate the creator.

It occurs to me that comments are a mini writing task, I have been a writing tutor, and if I’m going to ramble about how not to form communities and have meaningful interactions on the internet, I could maybe also help make it a little easier.

This post is written on the assumption that people want to interact, but struggle for whatever reason: nervous, tired, didn’t realize comments meant that much, can’t think of what to say. I myself spent years at a time on ao3 not commenting on literally anything—something about stones in glass houses. But in my experience, while getting comments on my own fics is kind of my favourite, leaving the kind of comment I know I would cherish—and sometimes getting replies from authors replying to my comments and actually chatting with them—is pretty damn magical too.

In that spirit, this post is henceforth a how-to, not an argument, and I’m not going to address anything to do with bad faith comments. I’m gonna try and provide some structures and simple formats to start comments from. I cannot emphasise enough, these are all intended to be used from a place of sincerity. Tools for finding and formatting the appreciation which is already in your brain, just hiding from you.

That said, we’re gonna take this in stages—

1. The Chapter Kudos

“Chapter kudos,” a little “<3,” an “I loved this,” or similar simple expressions of warmth and enthusiasm, slapped on a oneshot or each chapter of a long fic. These are a nice small gesture that lets the author know you’re here and you’re still loving the fic. Not every author is in love with the these type of very short comments, but unless they have a specific note about it, they’re almost certainly glad for the knowledge you’re still reading. This is minimal—great for days or weeks when you’re tired, low effort, can’t think of shit to say about a particular chapter, and so on. Comments, like all tasks, must be allowed to vary in intensity with available energy and time.

2. The 1-2 sentences

A one or two sentence comment. Here, a combination of a general compliment: “this was amazing,” and a specific compliment: “character A’s dialogue felt so realistic” works really well.

General compliments are typically easier to come up with:

What an awesome chapter!

Wow ok I did not see that coming—

I fucking. Love. Your writing.

This was so exciting!

I screamed when I saw this updated

Maybe a little over the top, but you get the idea—it’s hard to go wrong with these.

Specific compliments are often a little harder to come up with, but they generally fall into two categories which are both wonderful: content and writing.

Content includes things like:

I love [character] so much, seeing them in [particular situation] was so fun

Wow there’s so little content for [niche fandom/character/ship/trope] it’s great to see it here

Your idea about [authors headcanon] is so smart—that makes [weird element of canon] make so much sense

I didn’t used to be into [trope/ship] but holy fuck am I convinced now

The point being you’re noting a particular element content of the fic—what and who it’s about—that you loved. These are great because getting really damn excited about a character/trope/headcanon etcetera, really is the heart of fandom.

Writing takes a slightly different tack, and talks about the author’s writing skills—what they do well:

You write such good dialogue, it feels really realistic

Your action scenes are so exciting!

The tone of this chapter was so perfectly creepy—the way you describe [setting/character] gave me the shivers

The spacing you used really fit the piece—it’s a neat way to show the character’s mindset there they’re struggling to think clearly

The combination of a general and specific compliment can make it easier to start writing your comment, while giving you a second to think of your specific thought. It’s simple, but it means a lot to get any kind of specific comment, because it shows the author that you are paying attention to their writing and that you appreciate or relate to them, specifically. These comments are fairly quick to write, but can mean so much.

3. The paragraph

Several sentences long, with a bit more room to explain what you loved. Everything from the 1-2 sentence section applies here too. A general compliment is still a great starting point, and specific compliments are still where we want to end up. The main difference is you’ve got a little more room to talk, and you can take that in a few different directions.

You can talk about one specific compliment for a bit:

I love the way you write dialogue—character A saying “[quote]” was exactly what they would say in that situation. And their banter with character B was incredible, i laughed out loud. The way they both use cursing, but in slightly different ways is fascinating. The way character B does it is…

Or you can go through several different ones quickly:

I love the way you write dialogue—character A saying “[quote]” was exactly what they would say in that situation. The fast dialogue kept the pace up and the whole chapter was so exciting—I loved that you brought up character B and character C’s relationship too, it gets so little attention but I love it…

There’s also room for wider observations and questions (these can also totally go in 1-2 sentence comments, it’s just easier to have a little more substance around them):

Your writing always makes me feel so [feelings]

Wait I’m a little confused did [event] happen the way I think it did, or am I being silly?

Your ideas about [character] are awesome, I love everything you’ve written about them.

I’m so curious, what’s your specific lore on [character/event]?

4. Multiparagraph

Several paragraphs, or a very long paragraph. Hot damn, the author is in love with you now. Either you’ve got a whole lot to say about one specific topic of writing or content, or you’ve got a couple of different topics you want to pay some attention to—as you start writing your comment, you’ll probably discover a few more. Let yourself ramble, make bullet points, just get your thoughts out, if you have this many. All the principles from before apply: general compliments, specific compliments, wider observations, questions—all of these can easily feature in a long comment.

5. Fuck Formating

Write comments in whatever format works for you. Bullet points, google translated into the necessary language, rambling, well organized, short, long, emojis, copy-pasting your favorite quote from the fic with an exclamation point, pre-formatted general compliments, whatever will get your thoughts and enthusiasm down.

If you are communicating, the format doesn’t matter all that much. The same information from a multi paragraph comment can be done in bullet points or by quoting. Whatever communication you do will be meaningful to the author.

It’s hard to go wrong—

Like most writing, making meaningful comments and picking out those specific compliments gets easier with practice. There’s no need to write multiparagraph comments all the time. Those 1-2 sentence ones can be full of so much love, and chapter kudos are sometimes all there’s energy for.

The most important writing advice ever in my opinion is this: you have interesting things to say. About yourself, about the world, about writing, about that damn fanfic.

Go forth and use the structures above, or come up with comments I couldn’t even dream of. Whatever you do, you will find fic authors are probably the most willing and grateful audience in the whole world.

#have some structure and tips so I’m not just over here moralising #lmao #fandom #ao3 #ao3 comments

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shurisgf · 10 months ago

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WHERE WERE YOU IN THE MORNING? — A. ARETAS ✩

🎧 for an enhanced experience , listen to Where Were You in the Morning — Shawn Mendes

9:00 AM

The warm sunlight filled the bedroom as your eyes fluttered open, your head still lying on Armando’s chest. His arms were wrapped around your torso as one of his hands rubbed your back gently, providing you comfort. You moved your head slightly, trying not to wake up your sleepy boyfriend, and placed a gentle kiss on his collarbone. You hummed softly, snuggling your head back into the place it originally was. You loved spending mornings together at your place, the two of you hardly got to wake up together anymore because of Armando’s busy schedule now that he was working alongside his dad. So you cherished every moment like this. He began to stir out of his sleep, and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Buenos días, mamá.” He mumbled in that sleepy voice of his, letting you know that he was awake. “Good morning baby, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You lovingly caressed his chest in an attempt to coax him back to sleep. He hummed quietly, still rubbing your back with his hands. The two of you stayed like this for a while, enjoying the quiet hum of the ac, the birds outside, the pure peace of it all. The two of you weren’t really morning people, so you appreciated the silence. Being in his arms was your favorite place, it made you feel content in knowing that he was yours, and you were his. “¿Cómo has dormido?” His drowsy voice filled the silent room, “The best I’ve slept in a while, actually.” He chuckled quietly, “And why’s that?” He hummed, “Because I got to sleep with you.” You smiled to yourself, getting up from the position you were lying in and moving to sit on top of him so you were now looking down at him, resting your hands on his chest. His hands paused, waiting for you to get comfortable, then placing them on your ass, rubbing it slowly. “I’m gonna go shower.” You mumbled and placed a soft peck to his lips before getting off of him and walking towards the bathroom. “Such a tease,” he mumbled staring at you as you left the room, causing a light chuckle to escape your lips.

GLOSSARY !

Buenos días, mamá. — Good morning, mama.

¿Cómo has dormido? — How’d you sleep?

TAGLIST; @ghettogirly

reblogs are greatly appreciated !

#ੈ✩‧₊˚ she was a 𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓇𝓎 #armando aretas x reader #armando armas x reader #armando x reader #armando aretas #armando armas #jacob scipio #bad boys ride or die #bad boys for life

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pianostarinwonderland · 1 year ago

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Hello hello guys!! I participated in the Octazinelle zine 😳👉👈 and this was the fic I wrote!

Link of the zine is found in the notes section. I really hope you enjoy!

graduation [octazinelle: high tide fic submission]

in the few months they have before getting ready to leave for internship, floyd and jade go through the turbulence that future uncertainties bring: where will they go, what will they do, but most importantly... what will happen to their relationship with azul?

ft. floyd leech, jade leech, and azul ashengrotto

╰┈➤ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: hello hello!! i participated in a zine titled octazinelle: high tide! you can find the full zine through here~ this was a very fun project and i'm so excited to post the fic i wrote for you guys ^^ i really care about this fic so much, so there will be additional notes that i will leave somewhere :3c don't worry, they won't be hard to find fufufu

“Floyd Leech.”

Said student is just climbing down the steps of the lecture room when he hears his name being called in an austere manner. Any remaining students in the classroom cast Floyd that ‘oh boy’ look as they leave the room. Floyd looks to the teacher’s table where Professor Trein stares at him sternly. He returns the stare with a miffed look, but he approaches the professor nonetheless.

“This is the second time this week that I have caught you sleeping in my class,” Trein rebukes. “This may be your last semester in Night Raven College before you go on your internship, but that doesn’t mean that you can be negligent in my class.”

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t give me that attitude, Leech. I do not want to give any penalties so late into the semester, but if I catch you sleeping one more time, I will. Do I make myself clear, Leech?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You may now go.”

Floyd steps out of the classroom with the same expression as he wore when getting called out. Damn Professor Red Squid, if you don’t wanna give detention, then just don’t, he thinks to himself. Meh, oh well. I don’t feel hungry at all, should I even go to the canteen? But where do I even wanna go? Everywhere’s so noisy.

He walks for a bit, hands in his pockets.

Ah wait.

There’s the supplies arriving today for Mostro Lounge.

Floyd barely notices his frown growing ever so slightly deeper, but students walking along the same path as him instinctively step aside. Nobody in their right mind would dare interrupt a disgruntled Leech twin.

I’m not going to help out with those. Azul can suffer with those all he wants.

“Floyd! There you are!”

Floyd stops in his tracks. He does not look at the classmate who briskly walks up to him, but he already feels the annoyance rushing to his head.

“Floyd, we got a paper due in two days,” the classmate yells. “We just need your part, and we'll be done! When are you gonna send it in the gc?”

“Go away.”

“Hah? Don’t give me that!” The groupmate’s voice raises in anger. “We have a literal group paper to submit, and we just need your part so that we can submit it earlier!”

Floyd faces him finally, but this time, his eyes are dilated, teeth are displayed, and brows are furrowed. An all-too familiar menacing expression. “I said go away.”

“Eep!” The classmate takes a step back, expression immediately shifting to fear for his life. “O-ok ok! Just- just submit before the 11:59 deadline in two days! That’s all I needed to say, ok!”

And right after, the student runs away.

Floyd huffs. He has now made up his mind on where to go.

Jade is wiping the sweat off of his face in the locker rooms when one of his Octavinelle classmates approaches him. “Hey, Azul’s calling for you,” he says. “He’s by the gates right now.”

“Oh?” Jade looks up in confusion. “I thought Floyd was supposed to be with him right now.”

“Well, he’s not there now,” the classmate replies while scratching his head. “They need more backup and Azul’s calling for you.”

“Ah, I see.” He smiles. “I shall be there, then.”

The classmate leaves the locker rooms, leaving Jade all by himself. The rest of the class has already left, eager for lunch.

Jade slows down in cleaning himself up.

Azul’s name brings back a rip that’s been tearing at his heart. It burns in the way that electricity probably burns, maybe to a lesser degree: his body stops working the way it usually does, and his chest still reels from a shock of pain. It’s not physical by any means, though by the Sea Witch, he wishes it was. It would have been so much easier to deal with. He’d be shipped to the best hospital, all bills easily paid for, and he’d be recovering well back in Octavinelle. Or if he dies, then that is that. No more pain to feel.

No, it’s a harder kind of pain. It’s the kind of pain that makes him want to tear flesh and bone with teeth and claws, the kind of hurt that urges him to destroy a ship, the kind of ache that makes him want to burn his already burning eyes. It’s the kind of pain that won’t go away even if he does all three.

Jade breathes in. Hold it. Breathe out. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Breathe in… breathe out…

He cannot afford to lose himself now, whether by wrath or by tears.

He packs his bags, changes back to his uniform, and leaves the lockers. His light footsteps are overshadowed by the sounds of enthusiastic jogs to the cafeteria in the corridors. Jade takes a moment to breathe in the afternoon sunny air, letting out a bit more of his worries out of his lungs before he walks down the stairs and through Main Street.

And soon, he finds himself nearing the tall gates of the school, where a group of students are gathered around large boxes.

It annoys Jade that the gleam of silver hair stirs mixed emotions. On one hand, his troubles are dashed completely from seeing the very person he keeps close. On the other hand, it is the same person who’s making him go through hell.

He swiftly shifts his focus to the situation in front of him. Some of the other boxes should have been on the way to the Mostro Lounge by this time, yet there are still several of them that the other Octavinelle students have to carry. It isn’t surprising—after all, they decided to upgrade a few things, in preparation for the next dorm leader. Supplies that a simple run to Sam’s shop won’t cover, no matter how much he claims to have it all in stock.

“Be extra careful with that. That tableware costs us quite a fortune.” Standing by the boxes with a clipboard resting on his arm, Azul watches his dorm mates as he writes notes on the clipboard. He has his dorm leader facade on, serious and stern, but even from a distance, Jade can see his slightly nervous gaze towards the supplies.

As another pair leaves with a heavy box, Azul looks at them before his eyes fall on him. “Jade, good you made it on time.”

“Hello, Azul,” Jade greets. “I thought that Floyd was supposed to help with the supplies.”

“Well, he’s not here now,” Azul answers, frowning from annoyance. “I was wondering if you had any idea as to where he is right now.”

“I don’t. His history class should have ended 10 minutes ago.”

“Hmph, nevermind. We need to get all of this into the lounge.” He gestures to the boxes. “All the boxes are complete, and we’ll do a final count of all the supplies once everything has been moved there.”

“I see.” Jade nods. “Will you need me to assist you?”

“No, you may enjoy your lunch break after helping us move these boxes,” Azul answers. “I’ll be making my next successor do that. It’s a part of his learning, after all.”

“Ah. I see.”

It annoys him to feel that same shock of hurt returning to his chest.

A bemused look crosses Azul’s face. “Does that offend you,” he teases. “I never took you for one to be tilted by that.”

Jade blinks. “Why Azul, whatever makes you think I’d be offended over that?” He smiles, with a bit more effort than he’s used to. “You must be imagining things from how little rest you have in passing on your position to the little siren.”

“You exaggerate.” He keeps his clipboard and pen into his bag. “We need to move. Jade, carry that box over there.” He points to one of the smaller boxes, marked with the word FRAGILE, and picks up another box.

And wordlessly, Jade follows, carrying a box that must contain brand new tea sets. New tea sets that remind him that a new dorm leader and manager of the Mostro Lounge will take over.

That his term and Azul’s will end because they’ll move up to 4th year and go their separate ways.

Jade resists the urge to break them. He’ll carry these then find Floyd.

Back at home, the schools of fish would band together, staying close until Floyd swam past them, splitting their perfect formation. Together, apart. Together, apart.

Together. Apart.

Separation was not new to Floyd at all. In an “eat or be eaten” world, fish and merfolk alike live with the thought that the people closest to them may be gone the next day. Floyd has hunted before, has fought before. He’s even the one who said goodbye to his parents when leaving for Night Raven College.

But he said goodbye with the promise of seeing them again after school is done.

He stares down at the river that runs below the bridge. This spot is rarely ever frequented by students at lunchtime, if only because everyone else is either eating in the canteen, having meetings, or just being with friends, and the bridge is on the other path away from the Hall of Mirrors. Besides Octavinelle, it feels the closest to home on this campus: here, he can watch the current flow, and the fish that live below its clean stream.

Home, huh? Floyd wonders if home will still feel like home once he returns from Night Raven College.

It will be the same dark passageways and bioluminescent lights, the same faces but all grown up. Except that he isn’t a child that can pick fights with anyone and nab their scales as a prize, he is to be stuck with running the family business of making deals, expanding connections, beating up people who betray their trust. Pretty much like what he already does with Azul now.

Except that the boss that would stand with him and Jade is not Azul at all.

The fish in the river swim with no obstacle in their path. They may split apart to avoid the occasional rock, but they would be together again. Together, apart. Together. In the small space that they share, there is no vast ocean that opens up new paths for them to split ways. Not until they swim down the cliff and into the open sea.

Floyd has never envied river dwellers until now.

Jade walks behind Azul going to Mostro Lounge. It’s something of a routine that started in Night Raven College. When Azul walks, he and Floyd follow him from behind. He doesn’t remember how or when it started. Probably started to make Azul’s image look powerful: he is in the front, wearing a coat that imposes authority, and Jade and Floyd standing at the back makes him look almost impossible to touch.

Regardless of the hows or the whys, it’s a position that has always given him comfort. From behind, Jade can watch Azul. He can see if Azul is pleased with something by the bounce in his step, or if he’s pissed by the clack of his heels. And from the front, Azul can’t read Jade since he’s always looking forward, and that lets Jade startle him with a random brutal teasing remark.

Right now, though, he wishes to not look at Azul.

Azul appears to be beaming, and Jade knows exactly why. He’s found the perfect successor for not only leadership of Octavinelle but also manager for his prized restaurant. He’s gotten accepted in all the places he applied for his internship.

He’s gotten accepted already into the university that he aims to go to.

Jade vividly remembers the way Azul grinned from ear to ear when he received the email. He remembers the audible, “Yes! Yes, I got in!” that almost sounded teary-eyed. He remembers Floyd saying that they should celebrate over some drinks. He remembers smiling to the best of his abilities while saying congratulations for being accepted.

That was two weeks ago. He’s said many fake things in his life, and he would never say sorry for them. But until now, the heartless congratulations weighs heavily in his conscience.

It’s simple, really: Azul has been working hard all his life to achieve his dreams. And Jade was there to witness the journey, from the ideas to the headaches to the defeats to the victories. It’s a huge milestone for Azul to get to stay on land and study in a place where he feels he will thrive. So it’s unfair really, to not be able to celebrate such an achievement happily.

And yet, Jade can’t bring himself to.

Their relationship started as something transactional. Tweels keep his secrets, Azul lets them in his plans. Tweels support him, Azul entertains them. And if Azul fails to entertain, then they will drop him like plastic to the chute. There and done. That’s supposed to be their relationship.

So why then does it hurt to hear that Azul got accepted? Why does it hurt to think about how in a few months, he won’t see Azul as much as the present? Why does it hurt to think about the uncertainty of when they will see each other again?

“Jade, you can put down the box over there.”

Jade blinks. He’s at Mostro Lounge. Has he been so deep in thought that he didn’t realize when he arrived?

Schooling his expression, he puts down the box on the counter that Azul gestures to, unaware of the concerned expression on Azul’s face.

Floyd doesn’t know when he started staring into nothingness to gaze at memories, but he’s now seeing the stone stage from middle school, where his younger self is playing drums to his brother’s bass and someone’s piano.

He remembers, he was getting irritated with the piano melody, and at the time he couldn’t pinpoint why, except that it lacked something. Now that he thinks about it, it’s because that pianist’s playing had no life. No vigor, no passion, just technique that wouldn’t get anyone dancing. “Next,” he had said and stopped playing. The pianist was protesting. Floyd forgot what he said, just that he protested that he wasn’t done playing, but he didn’t care enough to hear about it.

“Everyone sucks, Jade,” he threw his sticks to the ground. “No one’s good enough to be part of our band. Let’s just go.” And he and Jade—who was bigger than him at the time—left the small auditorium of their school. And it’s a blur, Floyd doesn’t remember why he and Jade didn’t go home right away, but he remembers very well the syncopated melodies coming from the piano they forgot to close.

And he remembers the gasp he made, the way his heart was stirred from how alive the music sounded.

And he remembers how quickly he swam back inside to see who’s playing, and his wide-eyed gaze when he spotted the familiar octopus.

“Hey hey, that was so cool,” he said to the flustered Azul. “Play some more, play some more!”

“Huh? No way, I have to go soon!”

But he didn’t let him go. He insisted he play the piano as he picked up his sticks and played a beat. “Come on, just one song! Then you can go!”

And he started his beat. And when it was just him for a long moment, Floyd had wondered if Azul left. But the sound of an E minor reached his ears, and the next moment, Azul’s playing was matching to the beat of the drums. And his music had heart. It had spirit, it had technique, it had passion.

And the best part? Azul matched his rhythm when nobody else did.

“I knew I’d find you here, Floyd.”

Eyes turning away from his reflection in the water, Floyd looks up to the face that he’s known since birth. Jade, impeccably presentable despite having PE class earlier, walks towards Floyd, leaning on the railing of the bridge he stands on. But he does not go near him.

“What do you want,” Floyd asks.

“We had a new batch of supplies arrive at the Lounge today,” Jade answers. “You were supposed to help out with the unpacking.”

He only answers with a curt hum before turning back to the water below.

He hears a sigh. And footsteps approaching.

“You’re thinking about last last week, aren’t you?”

Floyd turns again to Jade. He’s by the bridge railing now, same side as him, but he continues to keep a respectable distance. Jade doesn’t look at him directly either, his gaze directed at the horizon ahead of them.

He’s thinking about it too.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he answers. “It’s just, really ass, y’know?”

Floyd believes that in spite of their identical genetics, they are two people with different identities, dreams, and beliefs. And don’t get him wrong, it is a lot better that way to have individuality. But deep down, there is a comfort knowing that Jade probably feels the same feeling that leaves Floyd dizzy with frustration, that binds his chest with a mix of anger and sadness. And Sea Witch knows, Floyd needs that comfort now.

“‘Ass’, you say,” Jade repeats. “Tell me about it.”

A beat of silence passes between them.

“It’s just that. It takes half a fish brain to know that Azul’s got grand plans after graduation. Get into the best business school, build his own corporation, build another company, and a third company. And I’ve known this for Sea Witch knows how long, and it was all fine, I didn’t care that much, but then…”

“...But then the letter came in.” Jade fills in.

“Yeah,” Floyd emphatically answers. “That damned acceptance letter from whosit business university came in. Like, I don’t know why, but it just made everything feel… real. That Azul’s really gonna go somewhere else. And I hate that it’s been hitting me like this for the last two weeks. I can’t focus well, I’m pissed off, Trein’s told me off about sleeping. It’s so ass.”

The silent air between the twins weighs heavier. Floyd’s eyes briefly look at the fish in the river again—the damned fish that he wants to throw a rock at so they separate too—before he turns to Jade. “How ‘bout you? Was it also the letter?”

Jade doesn’t answer right away. Floyd understands; in moments like these, Jade hesitates to speak his mind, even to him. It’s part of their nature to be cowardly, after all, just that Jade exhibits it more between the two of them.

“... Somehow, yes, but if I were to think about it… it’s actually been a while now,” he finally answers.

“Eh? Really?”

“I knew down the line that there would be farewells to be made,” Jade says. “Like you said, Azul has already made plans for himself, and he invests in those plans, years in advance. But there’s always that part of me that wonders… if there’s space for us in those plans.”

Floyd finds himself inhaling sharply at those words.

“I see his goals coming to fruition, and it pains me to say that I can’t even properly support him. The letter, the new supplies, the little siren he’s going to appoint… they’re all reminders that it will all change.” Jade smiles, but in pain. “Azul won’t be the dorm leader, I won’t be the vice leader, and we won’t do the things we used to do. And we won’t see each other until perhaps the next VDC. And when we graduate… would he call an end to our agreements? Would we grow so busy that we become strangers again? We would always say that our relationship is merely transactional and that we would leave him if we get bored, but…”

Jade stops, and the air weighs even heavier. Floyd feels taken back to the first day on land, when breathing with lungs felt heavy and difficult.

Suddenly, Jade laughs. “What clownfish have we become?”

Floyd too joins his twin in mirth. “Can’t help it, Azul makes me feel understood.”

He raises a brow. “Is it gonna be about the first time you played together with him?”

“I mean, it’s how it started,” he answers. He doesn’t realize the small smile that settles on his face as he remembers once more. “Like, back then, everyone just kinda avoided, y’know? And that’s fine, at least, I thought it was. ‘Twas fun and all to be intimidating. But no matter what I’d do, Azul always matches me. He knows exactly what to play to my rhythm. And even in how we work, he knows what’s the stuff I’d like to do or the stuff I’d do well in. It just feels nice.”

It feels too nice.

Too nice that if it disappears, it will leave his heart bound tightly by melancholy.

“…Hey, I can’t be the only sappy one here.” Floyd eyes Jade. “C’mon Jade, share too what’s made you appreciate Azul.”

“I already shared a lot earlier,” Jade says defensively.

“Heyyy, be fair at least. I know you have your own thing.”

“What else is there to say? You already said everything.”

“Liar. I know how you started reading your books more after meeting him.”

“So? Those were lessons that we had to learn as well.”

“Uh huh sure. Then explain why you’ve only gotten better in everything you do after meeting Azul.”

Jade glares at him.

Floyd grins in response. “Gotcha.”

A beat of silence, then Jade sighs. “If he makes you feel understood, then he makes me feel capable.”

“How so?”

“One reason.” He puts up one free hand, with one finger up. “He’s demanding.”

Floyd chuckles. “That’s an understatement.”

“You’re right.” Jade grins, teeth flashing. “He’s exigent. Making us run around the school to do 5 things at once, on top of schoolwork. Even before NRC, he was just like that. I assumed he was insane. Until now, I still think he’s insane.”

“You say that, but you don’t look like you’re complaining at all.”

“Because thanks to that, I wasn’t pretending to be good at something anymore.” His next smile is closed. Softer. “I went from barely comprehending a textbook and barely lifting a seashell with my magic to understanding contract language and unlocking my unique ability. He made me do things, and I planned to just make someone else do it and pretend it was me.”

“Ohhh.” Floyd’s eyes widened with remembrance. “And then he caught you.”

“Yes.” Jade shakes his head at the thought. “And I was expecting him to laugh at me, but he didn’t. All he did was sigh and teach me. Magic, studies, law, something about the way he taught those things clicked something in me. And even the things that he didn’t teach but always talked about, like culinary and how people behave, I was able to absorb things and got better. Dare I say,” a smirk forms on his face, “I’m better than Azul in some things.”

“Like flight class.” Floyd grins.

“Like flight class,” Jade repeats smugly.

And they stop talking. Jade turns his gaze to the distant horizon, looking at something farther than the blue of the sky. Meanwhile, Floyd glances back at the river. He understands that Jade is done talking personal. But it’s fine for him. He can almost hear the unspoken thoughts. Once Azul leaves, who’s going to be the pianist in their little band that makes their every day exciting? Once Azul leaves, who’s going to tell them that they can do it?

Once Azul leaves, who’s going to understand them?

“So this is where you two are.”

Simultaneously, Floyd and Jade whip their heads around. Floyd swears his heart almost leapt to his chest when he saw those familiar blue eyes.

One hand in his pocket, Azul stands on the threshold of the bridge. He and Jade fully turn around as he walks towards them until he’s directly in front of both of them.

“Hello, Azul,” Jade greets, like the conversation a while ago never happened. “How was teaching your next successor what he has to do?”

“Went well,” he answers. “His prior experiences already reassure me, but he’s also demonstrated that he knows what he’s doing. Currently, he and our other dorm mates are taking care of the supplies.”

“Weird that you’re not being so strict, considering how much you value your restaurant,” Floyd comments. “You’re not even gonna be there to make sure nothing’s going wrong?”

“I trust that things are going well with my new successor in charge. I’ve taught him very well enough,” Azul says. “But more importantly… I have matters to discuss with the both of you.”

He turns his head to look at Jade. “Jade, you’ve been out of focus lately. Just a while ago, when you were bringing the box of teacups to the lounge, you were so deep in thought, you didn’t look like you were aware of where you were going. And even during work hours, you haven’t been as sharp as you usually are. A few professors have commented on your slouched posture as well.”

Jade’s eyes widen in surprise.

“And Floyd.” Azul turns to look at Floyd. “Professors have reported to me that you’ve either been asleep during lectures or interrupting class with an outburst. You’ve also been moodier than usual, and it shows in your cooking and your behavior. I’ve heard a few students rant about you in group projects.”

Floyd briefly remembers the group mate that approached him earlier.

“So what are you getting at exactly, Azul,” Jade asks. “Even we have our off days as well.”

Azul casts him a pointed look. “Off days for two weeks straight.”

He receives no quip in reply.

He crosses his arms. “Jade, Floyd.” His neutral serious tone changes. It quivers slightly. He’s worried. “I know you two well enough that there’s something going on. Is there something that happened?”

Floyd looks away. Jade does as well.

Floyd hates the concern in his tone. It makes him want to break. It makes him want to be upfront about his feelings and how it’s been bothering him.

But how can someone like him really tell someone like Azul that you’re afraid to lose him somehow? How can he retract all the times he said that their relationship is all transaction and no emotional connection? How do you even start bearing something so vulnerable?

They must be the same questions that Jade is grappling with now. Jade, who’s usually good at worming his way out of any conversation, has nothing to say to leave this topic.

Azul sighs, breaking the long silence. “Is this something that has to do with me?”

The twins stiffen.

Floyd can feel Azul’s gaze towards him.

A tense moment passes.

“... I had a feeling.”

He finally looks at him but in confusion. Jade is also facing him with wide eyes.

Azul exhales through his nose. “You don’t have to tell me anything about what you’re feeling right now. If at all.” He turns around, preparing to leave. His head is bowed down, not letting either twin see his expression. “But I just want to let you know, I’m always here if you need me. Not just for this, but for anything, even if in the future.”

Floyd’s breath hitches.

“Do you… really mean that?” Jade asks, almost meekly.

Azul looks at Jade in puzzlement. “Why wouldn’t I? You two have been with me for all these years, even in my weakest hours. It’s not like I’m going to leave you even after we graduate.”

“Really,” Floyd asks. “Even when you get really busy with university and we’re running our family business?”

“Well, I won’t deny that we will be busy,” he answers. “But I’m not letting go of you two just because of that. You know me too well, after all. And you’ve supported me all these years, it would be embarrassing to leave that unpaid.”

“You mean that?”

“Have I ever broken a promise? If you want, I can even put that on a contract and have you sign it.”

In one single breath, the binding sadness and worry that tightened Floyd’s chest leaves.

Without thinking, he moves towards Azul and wraps his arms around his slim frame. He ignores the surprised gasp as he buries his face on his shoulder. His breathing feels lighter than it has ever been the past two weeks.

He feels Jade joining in, hugging Azul from the other side and burying his face on the other shoulder. His breathing sounds even to any person, but to Floyd, he can hear a slight quiver, like Jade is trying to hold back tears.

“Is… is this what it’s been all about, all this time,” Azul finally asks. His hands move to pat their heads, a motion that always comforted the twins. “You two are strange for worrying about this type of thing.”

Despite his words, Floyd can hear the smile in Azul’s voice.

#ok so i love this fic sm as in i reread this when i was uploading just to check for any formatting mistakes and i’m still so happy with it??#so i will share to you additional notes about this #1st note: i got into the zine around june ish ?? and there were regular check ins to make sure we were working and i had my ideas written #but from june to sept i only wrote like 1/32 of fhe fic you wanna know when i wrote everything?#if the deadline was oct 1 i wrote everything starting sept 29 :)#so this was CRAMMED and i had a con on oct 1 on top of that so i had to crunch out this fic for real and ik i stayed up till 3am #yea i had time to edit but NOT THAT MUCH TIME TO EDIT BECAUSE IF YOU NOTICE #I CALLED THE TWINS TWEELS IN THE FIC AND THAT IS NOT A PROUD POINT KKSDNMDKSKSMX #so why did i not write that much till the very last minute? well aside from being a master crammer i actually had a reason which leads to #2nd note: i was in a relationship. well it wasn’t official it was more of a situationship. it was a good one that kinda ended on a slightly #bad note but it’s ok. all things considered i did enjoy it while it lasted and that’s what matters. but yea it was a really stressful one t #and the stress demotivated me. buuut that relationship was also my biggest inspiration for the fic.#so during that time i was also churning ideas for the fic; like i’d be thinking ‘wow i feel so pissed about these circumstances.. maybe jad #feels the same way as well’. Smth like that. but at the same time i had to keep myself separate to some degree so that it was still octa #but at least i had the experience to be able to put to words the pain and frustration jade and floyd felt. and it helped me too cause it #became a reflection sort of for me. helped me process things in the best way i can #3rd note: cause i left this to the last minute i genuinely considered dropping the zine completely. but i was stubborn as fuck fsr #and i’m rlly thankful for that stubborness because genuinely?? i still love this fic #yeah it had some awkward sentences and the pacing esp at the end got kinda funky for my liking but overall?? am happy #4th note: WHEN EN TL’D GLOMAS PARTICULARLY THE OCTA PART I SCREAMED. cause floyd went ‘azul’s going to a fun place without me?’#and i wanted to kick myself cause i had the ideas of why floyd would be sad about being away from azul. i just didn’t center it much on fun #5th note: last scene w azul was supposed to be either from jade's pov or both tweels and set in azul's office.#but cause time restraints i could not do that :-) maybe one day if i revisit this i'll write the last scene as it was intended.#it felt awkward ngl writing only floyd while having to resort to his knowledge about jade to slip in jade's feelings #6th note: someone in the tags pointed out my hc of jade not being as diligent back then (and thank you for the kind words cause oml ily)#yess i hc that jade back then wasn't quite as capable or diligent and would mask that by using other ppl lol.#it's not that he can't Do Anything it's more of he struggled more than he does now #i just like to think that his seemingly perfect skills came from somewhere and a lot of ppl depict azul learning from jade #so why not the opposite? i like to think that azul learned the cunning from jade and jade learned magic and improvement from azul #7th note: it's kinda surprising that i didn't write an azul centric fic when he's literally my bias and tbh i was gonna write a 2nd fic but

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thesiltverses · 6 days ago

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How do you do podcasts, beyond the writing stage? The Silt Verses inspired me to try writing audio drama, and I have ideas, but I am only one person and all I can do yet is write. How do you get published, so to speak? How many people do you have to involve at a minimum (beyond VAs)? How do you find those people?

Let me try and tackle this in increments!

#1: With the right story format, you actually don't have to involve anyone else, so don't feel like you're missing some vital component. You don't need anything but yourself to get started.

An intimidating number of the most successful audiodramas ever made are either single-performer or begin that way before expanding to accommodate guests, and that includes both narration format and action-driven shows (WTNV, Old Gods, Knifepoint Horror, Malevolent...). With a lot of these shows, the writer is taking on performing duties despite a lack of formal voice acting experience or training, and acting as the sole producer into the bargain. Sometimes the ambient soundtrack for these shows is very basic and homespun - as it was for us with I Am In Eskew - or sometimes a sound designer has been paid for a higher-quality track that can play out during an episode, but there's no ongoing sound design work required.

Beyond that, the number of roles will entirely depend on your ambitions and your workload (and again, you can take on as many of these roles as you want to and have time for). If you're working with actors, someone needs to direct them and effectively manage the recording schedule, and someone needs to review and edit their takes. If you want action, someone needs to design that action. Plan to your needs, not anybody else's team size. You can always scale upwards as you go.

#2: How do you find collaborators beyond VAs? This can definitely be hard. But you could start at the Audio Drama Hub on Facebook, or advertise on the Fiction Podcast Weekly newsletter, or I just saw the Audio Drama Creators Discord mentioned on the audiodrama reddit (which is also a very helpful resource). If you have local networks - whether it's a university/college drama society or a citywide actors' page - that can be worth seeking out as well. I'm sure there'll be tons more so gonna drop in the audiodrama tag in the hope that we can get you more ideas.

My word of caution would be - I recommend putting a considerable amount of work into both the writing and the initial production plans before you start seeking other people out, particularly if you're operating on low or zero budget. Writing is a more popular pursuit than production, generally speaking, and I feel like over the years I've seen a lot of "looking for a director/producer/sound designer to help me create a show!" requests from someone who's got a largely unwritten idea and a lot of initial excitement fuelling them - when of course internet strangers largely aren't going to want to commit their time and energy to a project until they have some real tangibles and specifics.

#3: There's absolutely no bar to getting published, per se (other than paying for a hosting platform). If you're thinking of an arrangement where you submit your scripts to an already-formed production team, unfortunately that's something that doesn't reliably exist as far as I'm aware! Much better to do it yourself, generally speaking.

Hope that helps and best of luck!

#audiodrama #audio drama

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wilwheaton · 10 months ago

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One very simple question :)

(Tv/comics)

Marvel. Or DC?

I have liked them both and disliked them both, at different points in my life, for a variety of reasons. At the moment, I'm not paying attention to them at all.

When I was a kid, I was all about Xmen and Fantastic Four from Marvel and, Batman and Justice League (Marv Wolfman's run in the late 80s) from DC. Never really cared for Superman. The 1967 Spider-Man was awesome as a cartoon, but I rarely read the comic book.

In the 70s, I was only allowed one comic per week, usually picked out from whatever was left on that spinning rack at the drugstore. So more often than not, I ended up with something like House of Secrets or House of Mystery or one of those horror anthologies that didn't need me to read the issues before or after, like the serialized superhero comics did. I got a lot of replay value from those books.

In the 80s, I had my own money and the ability to drive myself to comic conventions, and that's when I fell in love with Sandman, Watchmen, pretty much the entire Prestige Format that became Vertigo. I recall feeling like Marvel was for kids, then, and DC was serious. I was only 16, so take that for what it's worth.

But speaking of being 16, I'm gonna focus on Batman for a sec. I loved Batman 89, and I think all the efforts to make a Batman movie ever since have fallen short in ways I couldn't predict back then. It's gotten better with age and by comparison, for me. Michael Keaton is my favorite Batman, the way Christian Bale is my favorite modern Bruce Wayne (they both pale next to Pure. West. if anyone asks me).

The OG Batman series is maybe my favorite series of all time not called Star Trek or The Prisoner, and the 1966 movie is my favorite of all the Batman movies. Of course I love the animated series, and I get to be Blue Beetle in Brave and the Bold, so that's pretty awesome and its whole own thing.

Turning to the current moment, with rare exception, all the MCU and DCU movies do nothing for me. I thought I must have been missing something, so tried really hard to give them a chance to knock me out. I watched as many of the MCU movies as I could stand, and I just felt exhausted and bored by all of it, by the time I got to ... I can't even remember. Something with maybe Thanos and Ant-Man? I felt like it was a big, complicated mess of fan service and meetings that could have been e-mails, resulting in in a stew full of interesting ingredients that have all blended together into a flavorless paste. I do enjoy all the James Gunn movies, though, even if Chris Pratt is the worst Chris, because James always centers the characters and their conflicts, then uses the action and stunts to support the story.

I feel like a lot of this sounds harsh, but even Star Wars, my favorite movie when I was a kid, has grown into something I don't recognize or care about. I'm old. I know what I like and what I don't like. I'm not patient like I once was, and it's clear I'm not the person those studios want in the theatre, anyway. I could make that joke about how it's the children who are wrong, but I accept that I am not in the demo, and I am genuinely happy for everyone who loves the spectacle and the experience of seeing those films with an enthusiastic audience. I just won't be there with you, but you can find me in the parking lot, yelling at a cloud.

...wow that's a very big answer to a very simple question.

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the-s1lly-corner · 1 year ago

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craving some more fluff serotonin in life, can we please have some promts of kissing/first kiss with the TADC cast? (caine will be....something lmao)

Kissing hcs w/ TADC cast

gonna format this kind of like the hugging hcs post! also reminder that requests are still closed, i am answering requests that were sent before this morning! any requests sent after are going to be deleted due to me trying to clear my inbox; please hold onto your requests until i announce requests are open again! if in doubt refer to my bio!/nm/not targeted

CAINE:

this man would not be shy about giving you affection, he would kiss you as soon as he felt it was right and you were giving him the cues and all that. he understands that teeth arent ideal for kissing so similar to kinger (who i wrote first for this post) he gently presses himself into your mouth. weird feeling but hes careful not to bite you or get too harsh, i give him a 6/10

POMNI:

very short you might have to kneel or pick her up so she can reach you if you're taller than her.. very timid and awkward, quick peck on the lips. pomni does not know what she is doing!! who let her cook! 7/10 though, pomni as a whole is soft, its kind of like kissing a marshmallow... actually she kind of tastes like one too, weird... give her some time and she'll be more confident!

RAGATHA:

soft but not as soft as pomni, instead of kissing a marshmallow its like kissing one of your dolls... i think it depends on what kind of material ragatha would be made out of... assuming the digital world gives her textures and give and all that.. hmm...her mouth is odd, i personally hc that its just. 2D. like pomni has a proper mouth, you can see the depth of it. but ragathas mouth is like, stop motion... 7/10 simply because she probably holds you close and her hugs are amazing so it just adds to the experience

JAX:

similar to caine, i think! we never see jax actually.. open his mouth, its just teeth. personally i think thats just how his mouth is, he cant open his teeth. so... teeth kisses... though caine can actually open his mouth, jax just has. the wall of teeth... odd... kiss the teeth wall i promise he brushes his teeth/j i give him a 6/10, i think its something you have to get used to

KINGER:

i said it a few times but kinger would need to hype himself up before kissing you for the first time. or alternatively, if a tense moment just happened where say.. one of you guys almost got hurt (or as hurt as you can get in the digital world,) he would probably kiss you me thinks... no mouth how will he give kiss kiss :(? gently presses where his mouth would be to yours. hard and cold, 5/10 but he still tries to be gentle so its not like hes clacking himself against your teeth

ZOOBLE:

similar to kinger but also not because of how zoobles head is shaped... maybe you guys can assume the space between their eyes is where their mouth would hypothetically be. its like putting your mouth against those plastic foods.. cold, their head feels hollow like some of the plastic food toys.. not noticeable unless you press hard against them.. 4.5/10

GANGLE:

you see this one i can work with since i have already written characters with masks getting kisses! just kiss where her mouth is and you're golden! sure the mask is also her face and shes like ragatha in regard to the 2d mouth thing... but hey its better than zooble, i think! similar scoring, i think, 7/10 also i think she would put her hands on your cheeks while you two kiss

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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crippleprophet · 1 year ago

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i don’t understand how people can be so fucking cruel about people who can’t read much (including people who aren’t literate, though this post is from my experience with chronic illness). like, one of my main motivations behind posting excerpts of butch+femme writing on my main (@campgender ; it’s fine to go through my bookshelf tag but please only followers age 18+ on that blog!) is that it is fucking hard to read a full book!!

my reading comprehension & stamina decreased drastically when i developed worse chronic fatigue, & while i’m overjoyed that i’ve recently regained a lot of that particular ability since getting blackout curtains, there are absolutely still texts i can’t even begin to parse that i once would’ve loved digging into — texts that it would be actively dangerous for me to attempt to struggle through because it would break pacing.

idk i’m not trying to be self-congratulatory here or whatever but like. the second i could access information through this means again, the focus of my (very fucking limited!!) energy has been giving it back to my people. my life has been unquestionably, deeply shaped by tumblr users who share excerpts of theory & memoir & poetry because they were providing labor of which i was in need & incapable.

finding, selecting, transcribing, formatting, & at times contextualizing passages takes a lot of fucking time & energy, but in order for me to encounter certain concepts, experiences, & histories, it’s work somebody else had to do, because i couldn’t read 200 pages of research or anthology in order to encounter the 10 that would change my life — but posted 2 or 3 pages at a time, i could save that in my drafts to get through on a good day, & quotes that were only a couple lines i could usually read right when i encountered them.

so, in memory of the years i spent unable to access theory through anything other than excerpts & secondhand summaries,

and in anticipation of the years to come where i will live the same,

and in acceptance that the brain is a muscle, in love of we the exercise-intolerant,

to you, dear reader — whatever form & frequency & duration that reading may take, even if it’s no further than this post — i make my motherfucking covenant: the issues i discuss around pulling quotes will be about the political act of the ellipse and the ethics of transcription, not shaming people for the methods of accessing information that are available to them. as often & as long as i am able, people can ask me to explain something or summarize in plain language and i will meet them with respect, interest, & effort. if someone’s looking for information on a particular topic, identity, experience & doesn’t have the energy to find it, i’m gonna give what i have towards filtering through the bullshit for the gems.

according to our abilities. according to our needs.

and the next time somebody tells you it’s not ableist to say everyone has to read [whatever work], tell them to go put their precious ability to better use in making it more accessible.

#mac.txt #continuing my trend of showing up on this blog once every couple months with an infuriated rant & then fucking off back to bed #me/cfs #reading #chronic illness #ableism

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contritecactite · 3 months ago

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Since @fandomtrumpshate starts up again soon, I thought I would babble a bit about my experience last year! Specifically, let's chat about podficcing. A nice and arbitrary 9 reasons to do the thing below the cut!

Thing 1: It's so much fun! I am bouncing up and down at the prospect of doing it again. In fact, I am planning to offer a slot for any fandom this year rather than just ones I'm familiar with!

Thing 2: Nobody was bothered by how amateurish my readings are, how basic my recordings were, or by the extra whistle and sibilance and mouth sounds that sneaked in. Nobody was annoyed that I don't do accents or intense voicework/character voices. It's something I want to improve in the future, but it's really not necessary—reading a fanwork aloud is first and foremost about making it accessible in a new format. Anything else is just icing!

Thing 3: People who want their works read are going to be communicative! The folks I worked with last year were happy to go back and forth until we decided which works were the best fit for me, and they were happy to answer my questions about how to read/interpret certain lines, etc. It was so much fun to toss around idea with them (even if we didn't end up using them all)!

Thing 4: This is a zero-entry-cost hobby (assuming you already have a device of some sort to read fic in the first place). You don't need fancy equipment and software. You can get the job done with an inbuilt audio recording app on your phone, and if you're in a quiet and non-echoey place, it can sound just as good as something made with a dedicated mic and such. Don't let "but I don't have a recording space" hold you back! Sit in your favorite chair and put your phone by your face while you read me a story. That's really all you gotta do.

Thing 5: In direct contrast... it is a good excuse to dip a toe into gear and software. There are lots of fairly cheap suitable microphones, and Audacity is free. I recorded one short fic via three different methods just to troubleshoot for fun!

Thing 6: You don't have to get it right the first time! (Or second or third or...) I save outtakes (profanity warning!) for the creators whose work I read. Sometimes a cat walked in and told me a mournful tale at top volume. Sometimes the neighbors turned on a leaf blower. You can even get silly with it on purpose if you need to warm yourself up! I do a lot of yelling "this is so silly and I am so embarrassed!" into the mic before I try a serious read.

Thing 7: You get to spend so much time with a work and its characters! You're gonna read that thing so many times to make decisions and to alert yourself to what's coming next. You'll be able to recite it around a campfire and it'll feel cozy and familiar (or, you know, extra painful if it's heavily angsty).

Thing 8: If you play things back and tweak them as often as I did, it goes a long way toward getting past hating the sound of your own voice or feeling disconnected from recordings of yourself. I've always been so so shy and hesitant to speak aloud in real-life conversations. I won't claim that I'm completely over any of those things, but spending time getting familiar with what I sound like in an objective, task-oriented setting has helped me learn to listen for my own vocal cues when I'm feeling too overwhelmed to process other kinds of feedback. I'm much more aware of what my uncertainty sounds like, for example, and am better able to cover for it now.

Thing 9: If you're also a writer as I am, it helps you look at your own writing through a new lens! I have been known to write 50+-word sentences, but now I (sometimes) stop to consider the punctuation breaks. How readable is this paragraph? Where would I take a breath if I were reading? Where would the emphasis naturally end up and how do I change that of it's not what I wanted?

I think people who are Better At Things might not necessarily have all the same experiences I shared here, but personally, I'm grateful for the opportunity, and I look forward to doing it again!

Here are the works I read for FTH last year:

Evil Plans by Sodium_Azide

The Night The World Didn't End by Aethelflaed

and the one that belongs to the earlier outtakes:

It Came Upon a Midnight Clear by my dear friend QuothTheMaiden, who still seems to like me just fine even though there's a terrible whine behind the whole thing (this was the troubleshooting fic btw. Software updated and defaulted to the wrong device, but I picked the better read over the better sound quality in the end).

#fandom trumps hate #podfic #my podfic #good omens #cactus chatter

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thoughtidtry · 1 year ago

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Mr. Perfectly Fine - MV CL

SUMMARY: Angst: After your break up you take time to reflect on the man you once thought hung the stars. Who knew another would help you find the beauty in the stars as they fell. PAIRING: Ex!Max Verstappen X fem!reader, Charles Leclerc x reader at the end. A/N: Inspired by Mr. Perfectly Fine by Taylor Swift. Experimenting with formatting so please let me know if it helps with reading! 2.8k+ words... I apparently can't write anything smaller let me know if you all would rather have it in thousand-word parts instead of one long post!

"Mr. "Perfect Face" Mr. "Here to stay""

"You're so beautiful liefje"

Max hummed in the crook of your neck as you lay back on his chest while watching a movie. These moments were your favorite, the quiet murmurs, and gentle touches while enjoying each other company. The times when you had him all to yourself with no cameras or teammates looking at you both.

"Look who's talking pretty boy"

You responded back with a playful smirk knowing he hated being called pretty.

"Only pretty liefde really. I'm offended"

All you could do was giggle before looking back at your boyfriend to find him clutching his chest like you would imagine an old lady clutching her pearls.

"Oh I'm so sorry, I didn't know being pretty was a bad thing now"

Faking an innocent look as you apologized for your disrespectful comment. You wanted to see how far you could tease before he reacted. Already he looked like he was mulling over whether or not to accept you heartfelt apology.

"Of course pretty could never fully articulate how a face as perfect as your looks. I again am so sorry for the offen-"

"Oh that's it!"

You were interrupted by being picked up and tossed on the couch beside him before he was on top of you looking done. With a smug smirk on his face, he pinned your hands above your head with one hand before starting to tickle you with the other.

"You gonna really apologize now"

You couldn't help but laugh as he poked and squeezed your sides till you were gasping for breath. His laughter echoed in your ears as he continued to torture you.

"I-I'm sorry p-please max"

You finally gasped out and he stopped still chuckling before leaning down to peck your lip quickly.

"That's what I thought"

He declared with a look of triumph on if face. You study his face for a moment with a soft smile before you glance over to see you already looking at him.

"What, liefde?"

Max questioned, his eyes filled with curiosity. You shrugged before answer as if it was the most common phrase ever spoke.

"I just wish we could stay like this forever. Here. Just the two of us."

He softly smiled back at you taking in how relaxed and angelic you looked in the soft glow of the TV.

"Well, I don't plan on going anywhere without you. I'm here to stay as long as you'll have me."

"Mr. "Change of heart" Mr. "Leaves me all alone""

You had never minded Max having to travel to races it was a part of his job. He used to love you tagging along with him to the races, being in the paddock with all the other girlfriends and wives of the other racers, and going back to the hotel with him after to help him relax after a long day. It made sense that you wouldn't be at every race but recently it seemed like he didn't want you there at all.

There was always some last-minute reason he needed to be at the track days before free practice started and you couldn't get off work in time before he had to leave. Trips started to become longer and longer to the point he was never home. You tried your best to understand but you missed him.

You talk on the phone when possible but they were always short. He always had an excuse why he had to go. The engineers needed to talk to him about the car, Checo was waiting on him for a video, or he had made plans to hang out with one of the other drivers.

"Mr. "Never had to see me cry" Mr. "Insincere apology so he doesn't look like the bad guy""

At some point, you stopped trying to call him and just resorted to texting him. His responses were few and hours apart with a made-up reason why he hadn't answered. You were beginning to lose hope when your phone rang one day. The excitement in your voice was evident when answering the call.

"Hey Max, how's the race going?" He sighed in annoyance that you even asked. "Yeah it's fine, look we need to talk" You took a step back at his tone. He was cold or maybe even angry. This wasn't like him at all at least not the side of him you knew. "O-okay yeah. What's up? Everything alright?" You were panicking a little worried something bad had happened. Was he hurt? Did something happen at the track? "Look I just don't think this is really working out. I think we should end things." You froze in shock, this had to be a joke right? He did just say that. All you could get out was a whisper like your voice had been stolen and tears started to well up in your eyes. "W-What?" Another sigh came from his side of the phone. As if this was becoming a more tedious conversation than he had planned. "We just aren't the same anymore you know. I'm sorry, I need someone less clingy, someone who understands what I do for a living." There was a pause as you heard another voice before he continued "I got to go, Christian wants to talk about something. I'll send you any stuff you left in my apartment when I get back. Bye."

"Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl. I've been picking up my heart, he's been picking up her"

The last few weeks had been nothing but painful. Ever since the break up you've had several people calling and texting you. From the girlfriends and wives you used to spend time with in the paddock check to see if you're okay to random acquaintances wanting to hear all the dirty details. It made you sick thinking about that call, you thought that would be the worst of it until you got a text from Charles Leclerc.

At first, you thought he was just another person trying to figure out what had happened. You had spoken to him multiple times and were able to joke around with each other before everything happened but you weren't surprised. At least you weren't until you opened up the messages.

Hey, I know you probably want to be left alone, but I don't want you to get blindsided by seeing later. Max is seeing someone else. None of us knew until yesterday when he brought her to the paddock and started introducing her to everyone. I just wanted to let you know instead of you finding out through the media.

All the healing you thought you had done crumbled like a house of cards. The tears started to fall before you even got to read the last message. It hadn't even been a full month. How could he have moved on so fast? Through tear-blurred gaze you decided to respond to Charles.

Thank you for letting me know.... I appreciate your honesty. You're right I would like to be left alone. I'm glad to have met you and everyone else, but I can't keep talking to you all. It hurts too much, too many memories. Hope you have a great race, Charles..... Thank you again.

Charles felt a pang of guilt reading those messages. You had always been kind to him and seemed to care a lot about everyone you came in contact with. He felt angry at Max on your behalf and wanted to help you in any way possible.

You are an amazing person chérie. I know you want to be alone but I can't abide by your wishes. Please let me be there for you. We don't have to talk about anything in particular, just tell me about your day or we can talk about our hobbies. Just let me be here for you, please?

It took you a moment before responding to the process. Charles wasn't a bad guy from what you knew of him. You had been isolating yourself from everyone the last couple of weeks not wanting to talk about everything. Maybe having someone to talk to about normal life would be nice? A sigh of defeat left as you messaged him back.

okay.... so what do like to do in your free time?

Charles softly smiles at your message. It was a start and he'll take it. He responded back quickly telling you about how he likes playing the piano and how he had released a few songs. This was a pleasant surprise for you and you told him you listen to them.

"Oh, he's so smug, Mr. "Always wins" So far above me in every sense."

The end of the racing season came quicker than you could have imagined. You and Charles had become closer than you had ever expected. He was there for you to cry to and laugh with and as your heart mended he filled in the cracks still seeping sorrow with his own love and compassion.

Sitting on a stool in his kitchen while he tried to cook you dinner, you couldn't help teasing him for his terrible cooking skills. He mocked you back at how inept you were when it came to baking. The conversation lulled as he began to focus on not burning the food before he hesitantly brought up the award ceremony. "If it's too soon I understand, but I would love for you to be my date."

You took a moment to consider the proposition. As long as you were in Charles' life Max would be in yours. You knew you would have to see him sooner or later, so why not now? With your decision made you smiled a bit.

"I would love to be your date, Charles. This is your night to celebrate a great season. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

The night arrived sooner than you had anticipated and there you were walking on Charles' arm in a velvet red dress looking in his words like an angel. You held the compliment close as you made your entrance together.

Friends and acquaintances were rightfully shocked at your attendance. They quickly came to hug you and let you know how happy they were to see you before you all were seated for the ceremony. It felt good to be around everyone again, you had missed them. Missed the funny moments and heartfelt chats. The night seemed to be shaping up to a great time.

Max made a speech when accepting his WDC trophy. He made sure to thank a woman named Kelly, who you assumed was his girlfriend, along with the normal thank you to his team.

He seemed so calm, relaxed, and perfectly fine. It had only been a few months, how could you still be recovering while he was at ease. You felt so small and lowly at that moment, looking up at him at the top of his career.

Charles, of course, noticed like he always did and grabbed your hand in his with a soft squeeze before running his thumb across your knuckles. Once the ceremony ended, the people who had not noticed you before came to say hello while others said their goodbyes.

"Now I'm Ms. "Gonna be alright someday" and someday, maybe you'll miss me. But by then, you’ll be Mr. “Too late”."

Max stood near the front smiling as he talked to some of the other racers. He was dressed in a simple black suit with a bow tie to match and a beautiful woman on his arm. You could see why he liked her, she was gorgeous and seemed to fit perfectly beside him. As the commotion around your appearance began to reach an all-time high, he looked to see who it was about.

Never did he expect to see you, in a criminally perfect red dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, hanging on to none other than Charles Leclerc. He couldn't have stopped himself from staring if he wanted to. You looked amazing and he could tell you smile was genuine.

The sharp sting of past memories hit him as he studied your body language. So open, warm, and cheerful as you spoke you Lily, he realized how much he had missed you. Once your eyes locked it was over, your grip on Charles' arms tightened as Max strides forward completely leaving his girlfriend behind.

Charles noticed your discomfort, immediately following your gaze. He thought something might happen, Max would never just let you attend without having something to say. Looking down while shaking his head, he swore so quietly you barely heard before leaning close to your ear.

"Let me know if you want to leave. It's okay if you don't wanna talk to him."

Looking up at him, you softly smiled at how empathetic he was about your feelings. The worry in his eyes was evident but you had prepared for this. Resting a hand on his chest you shook your head.

"No, it's okay. Let's just get it over with and have a great night."

“Goodbye, Mr. “Casually Cruel”, Mr. “Everything revolves around you”.”

Max's blood boiled as he watched you touching Charles. How did you even know him? You had barely spoken to the Ferrari driver during your relationship. When did you get so close to him? He would find out soon enough as he drew closer.

"Charles" He nodded to the driver after coming to a stop in front of the pair before glancing over at you.

"What are you doing here Leifde"

He hadn't meant for that to come out but it still felt natural to call you that even after all this time. It sent a surge of anger through you to have him call you that again.

"I'm not your Leifde anymore Max. You lost the right to call me that. Would hate for your girlfriend to hear you."

You sneered back like venom making it clear you did not appreciate the name. He smirks at your reaction, loving that he still has an effect on you. Turning to look back at Charles he decided to try and get a raise out of him. After all, he's the reason your here right.

"What couldn't find your own date so you settled for my ex?"

Charles' composure snapped at that. How dare Max speak about you in such a disrespectful manner. You, even on your worst nights, couldn't say a negative comment about this man and here he was acting like you were damaged goods. He went to step forward and get in Max's face when you held him back getting in between the two placing both hands on his chest. Looking up at him, hoping he would understand what you were planning to do.

"He's not worth it, amour."

You loudly spoke the last word to get Charles' attention. He snapped his head down to you at the sound of his native language on your tongue. With a cheeky smirk on your face, you lean up to whisper in his ear.

"Please just play along."

There was a hint of mischief he caught in your eye as you moved one hand slowly up to the back of his neck.

"Mon chéri, let's just go home. I wanna slip into something more...comfortable"

Not only did this make the Dutchman scoff from behind you but also stormed off mumbling something under his breath. Charles can’t take his eyes off you, not when had just hinted at being a couple to get Max to leave. He didn’t mind it. If he was honest, he had actually enjoyed the way it felt to have you holding on to him all night. You let out a sigh of relief once he was gonna looking back up at Charles. Taking a small step away you started to apologize before being cut off.

“Come on ma belle fille, let’s get you home.”

Charles smiled a sweet smile grabbing your hand to usher you out of the room.

“Goodbye, Mr. “Perfectly Fine”.”

As you and Charles arrived at your house, he broke the comfortable silence of the driver. He looked like at scolded puppy as he began to talk.

“I’m glad you came with me tonight. Sorry I almost lost my cool at the end there.”

You snicker a bit before hanging him a half shrug.

“Honestly, it felt great to put Max in his place so thank you.”

He chuckled a bit in response while shaking his head slightly. Max was an idiot for losing you and Charles wasn’t gonna make the same mistake.

“Glad you had a good night Cheri. I know this might be too soon but could I possibly take you on a date? “

He pause hesitantly before continuing to ramble on

“If it’s too soon I completely understand but I couldn’t let my chance to show you how much I liked you pass without at least-“

You cut him off by grabbing his face, pulling him in for a kiss. At first, the shock of you kissing him caused him to freeze but he quickly recovered, kissing you back with so much passion that you were left speechless. Smiling as you both pulled apart, he had to be certain.

“So, is that a yes?”

You threw you head back laughing before confirming.

“Yes Charles, I would love to go on a date with you.”

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #light angst #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #breakup #formula 1 #formula one

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