#not that it matters my queue is set for a few weeks still

[every-sanji]

[planet-hwa]

୨୧  the remedy to resistance – 우영    ↳   chapter 1 ; immunity to my charms

  ୨୧  summary     without regret — the last thought before falling asleep next to your best friend after finally giving into temptations, so why did you feel so strange the next morning? it wasn’t regret but an unknown emotion; unexplainable and underlying with anxious thoughts and over thought questions… maybe you should’ve stayed in your content state of immunity and denial, then you wouldn’t be fighting yourself to avoid him.

pairing     fratboy!wooyoung x reader genre     angsty best friends to lovers… and of course with smut *kiss kiss* word count    6.5k

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warnings     MDNI !!  overthinking/anxiety, mentions of a hangover, mentions of jealousy, hickeys/marking, dry humping, nipple/breast play, fingering, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, overstimulation, one line of degrading but mostly praising, begging, blowjob, hair pulling, gagging/choking, slight cockwarming, unprotected sex [no go irl], cowgirl and missionary, slight ruined orgasm

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the look of love, the rush of blood now playing   no. 1 party anthem ; arctic monkeys ⇄  ◁  II  ▷  ↺

⋮≡  in queue     ◦  champagne coast ; blood orange     ◦  i wanna be yours ; arctic monkeys     ◦  friends ; chase atlantic     ◦  the beach ; the neighbourhood     ◦  you get me so high ; the neighbourhood

Without regret.

After all the years of avoiding flirtatious remarks, repressing your non-platonic feelings and staying content in a complete state of denial, you finally fell into temptation — all because Wooyoung threatened to hook up with a girl you didn’t like, the jealousy of it boiling over you. You never thought it would happen, holding a remaining belief of it. And yet, here you were, a week into avoiding him for no apparent reason. Multiple texts ignored, missed phone calls piling up in your voicemail, all from one very confused person.

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Saturday morning

The morning after the party was quiet, not filled with the usual morning rustles of the frat house. The sunlight glimmered through the cracks of the curtains, setting the room with an orange tinge. You swivelled your head and peaked over your shoulder at the digital clock on his night stand: 8:59 which quickly flicked to 9:00. Considering the exciting night you had last, you expected yourself to be waking up closer to noon.

The sheets shuffled next to you, turning your head to watch as Wooyoung had flipped to his side and was now facing you, still in a deep slumber and softly snoring. His hair fell across his face and his expression was peaceful. You observed as his facial muscles slightly twitched every few minutes, similar to how a cat does when they’re dreaming. A soft smile grew on your face as you thought about the events of last night, not the party but what happened once the two of you left.

You finally gave in to your temptations for Wooyoung, after always being so adamant that you would never hook up with your best friend, or even admit that you had feelings for him to him. But when he reciprocated those feelings? It was like fireworks burst in your heart, every ounce of love you had for him — platonic and romantic — exploded and shot through your entire body. No man had ever made you feel like that, no matter how much you were interested in them.

The peaceful state of mind was ruined as sudden thoughts of anxiety began flooding your brain, conversations that were blurred by the hangover and unknown to you if they were real or not. 

“Is that why you looked so mad just now? Because I was hooking up with her?” Wooyoung scoffed, pushing his hair back with his hand just for the front strands to fall back to covering his face. The emphasis on the last word proved he already knew the answer. He knew how you felt about her and how she felt about you. He knew that you usually didn’t care about his hookups, but because it was with her; you cared. He knew that you being upset wasn’t just because of her.

“Why would you even go for her when you could get any girl you want?”

“Because the girl I want doesn’t seem to want me back.” He slowly drifted towards you, settling himself in between your knees and resting his hands on your thighs. “Don’t you?”

Did this actually happen, was I dreaming it?

“You know,” He purred, petaling kisses from your chest and down to your belly, falling lower and lower until he sat between your legs. “I’ve always dreamt about this; how you’d look… how you’d feel… how you’d taste.”

Did he actually say that, or was I blinded by orgasmic bliss?

A nausea swelled in the pit of your stomach, fueled by anxiety and the lingering effects of alcohol in your system. You needed to get out of there, right now, before you mentally broke down. Quickly gathering your clothes and throwing them on, but still wearing the shirt Wooyoung gave you to sleep in, you silently left his room and tip-toed down the stairs into a pitiful escape.

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Thursday midday

Your exam results sat on the table next to you, staring at you in torment. San sat across from you, stuffing a sub into his mouth whilst watching as you glared at the unopened papers, his brows furrowed in confusion to your hesitation. This was one of the things you had been thinking about all week, not particularly excited for it. 

The other thing on your mind? 

Jung Wooyoung.

Wooyoung who has been your best friend since the start of college. Wooyoung who you would never have feelings that exceeded your friendship. Wooyoung who you gave in to and hooked up with, only to leave in a hurry in the morning out of sheer anxiety, embarrassment, disgust in yourself, guilt. Wooyoung who you had successfully, but with extreme challenge, managed to avoid all week — leading you to be glued to San and your girlfriends all week. He didn’t mind of course, he adored being around you, but he was definitely curious. He noticed how any time Wooyoung would walk by, your eyes would shift. It was even more obvious when you would turn away after noticing him walking in your direction. San even tried talking to him, asking what the tension between the two of you was, but Wooyoung would brush it off as a small disagreement and swiftly change the subject — because he too was unsure of the tension between you.

San watched your eyes burn holes through the paper, frankly getting sick of the silent until he plucked up the courage to break it. “Can I ask you a question-”

“I’m gonna open it.” The rope of anxiety and slight anger snapped within you, causing your tone to be more aggressive than intended which you noticed and hurriedly apologised for.

“I wasn’t gonna ask that, but that’s okay.” A light chuckle left him as he took another bite of his sandwich before continuing. “What’s going on with you and Wooyoung?”

The mention of the name caused your eyes to widen and shoot up at him, a look of slight shock sat on San’s face at your expression. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I just noticed that you guys have sort of… avoided each other, all week.” Taking a final bite of his sandwich and violently chewing the big piece, almost choking on it. “I mean, the last time I saw you guys talk was at the party, so did something happen there?”

“Did you guys hook up or something?” He let out a small laugh at the ridiculous idea, it immediately dropped as he noticed your face glow a bright red. “Oh my god, you did.”

You began to shuffle in your seat, avoiding all eye contact and feeling your face grow more flushed by the second, the exam papers suddenly becoming of extreme interest to you.

“About damn time.”

“Wait…what?” Confusion furrowed between your eyebrows as you stared at the boy, him only looking at you with an innocent face as if he didn’t just drop the most open-ended statement. He rolled his eyes as he realised you weren’t playing dumb, you were actually dumb. Dumb enough to not notice the obvious looks of love from Wooyoung all these years, the remarks of flirtatious with evident intent, the physical touches that were held for longer amounts of time to be just friends.

You were completely oblivious to all of it.

Well… you chose to be.

Because in reality: you did notice all of these things. But you had pushed down your own feelings from the day you met due to insecurity and uncertainty. Of course, there was always the hope of Wooyoung’s intent to be true, but what if it was just pure friendship and you made a move causing the awkward end of it. Dealing with rejection was hard enough, but losing a best friend in the process of it? That would be unbearable.

“Wow, you really are an oblivious idiot.” San laughed, your lips curling into a small pout. “He talks about you all the time, it’s actually a little annoying.” You kick him lightly under the table, his eyes turning into crescent moons while he’s giggling.

“I mean, I was never truly sure until the first time we hooked up. After you left, he kept questioning me on it and I could tell he was jealous even when he denied it. And it happened after every time we hung out.”

A small smile curled at the corners of your lips, the thought of Wooyoung being jealous over you sending soft flutters to your heart. San also mentioned how one time Wooyoung had gotten so bitter over you spending time together that he almost fought San over it, the information increasing the butterflies that grew within your stomach.

“Come to the movie night tonight, he’ll be there and maybe you guys can talk.” San suggested as he began to pack his stuff in his bag and ready to go to his next lecture.

Even with the newly discovered information on Wooyoung’s thoughts on you, anxiety still bubbled inside you at the possibility of rejection. “I don’t know, what if he doesn’t want to talk to me?”

“He will want to, he’s been trying to. You’re the one that has been avoiding him, remember?”

The sudden reality check hit you like a bus. It truly was all in your head, Wooyoung avoiding you, when it was your fault the entire time. Before you can give him a definite answer, your phone buzzes to alarm you of your class in five minutes.

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The living room was filled with bean bags and pillows — a setup made by the oldest frat member, Seonghwa — a variety of snacks and drinks lay on the coffee table in the middle. Yunho and Mingi sat on the floor, attempting to throw popcorn and catch it in their mouths, ultimately getting scolded by Seonghwa every time they missed and how he was not cleaning up their mess again. He was snuggled into a bean bag since you and San stole the couch, his arm flung comfortably over your shoulders, the rest of the frat members being out: including Wooyoung.

Although it took some convincing, San eventually managed to persuade you to join the movie nights like you usually would. This was also his attempt to break some of the tension between you and Wooyoung, hoping that you would go off somewhere and talk. But fortunately for you: he wasn’t there, though you held some hope that he would be. You did want to talk to him, to confide in him like you usually would when you were stuck in a cycle of overthinking, but it was hard since he was the reason for it. But due to him not being there, it would have to wait until another time.

The night had grown darker as the tv continued flipping through action scenes, the light setting a dim glow across the room. Mingi, now passed out, was lightly snoring into Yunho’s shoulder, the tallest boy being used to the younger boy’s clinginess and it not bothering him. Seonghwa was immersed in the movie, it being his favourite from the Star Wars franchise, whilst stuffing his face with cold pizza. Your head now rested on San’s lap, his fingers intertwined and playing with your hair softly, his other hand occupied by silent scrolling through tiktok. He didn’t have much interest in Star Wars but still paid attention by glancing up for a few minutes and right back down to his phone.

The click of the front door sounded through the room, opening with a slight squeak. The tv was blocking your vision so you couldn’t exactly tell who it was-

“Wooyoung!” Yunho cheered, accidentally jolting a sleepy Mingi awake.

A small smile grew on your face as you look up at the boy who walks in, soon followed by a blonde girl. 

Her.

The one he left at the party to be with you was now standing next to him, hands interlinked with each other. Wooyoung sends a quick hello through the room, as does she when she catches your eye, a sly smirk growing on her face as she pulls him up the stairs in a haste. Before he was ushered away, he caught a glimpse of familiar saddened eyes that rested on San’s lap, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of you. A feeling of regret fell over him. He hadn’t seen you in almost a week, noticing how you avoided the glances he’d send your way or how you’d walked around corners after noticing him in your line of travel. All he wanted to do was talk to you and hug you deeply. And now here he was: willingly taking the girl who you hated and who inevitably was the cause for the two of you to hookup, upstairs to his room for the same thing right in front of you.

And god did it hurt you.

“Wooyoung, come dance with me again!” She whined pathetically. Her gaze — turned to a glare — went to your connected hands, face screwing at the sight. 

“Not interested sweetheart.” Wooyoung dismissed and continued up the stairs, ignoring her scoffs.

“You’re not seriously gonna hook up with this whore, are you? She wouldn’t be as good as me and you know it-”

“I said fuck off, didn’t I?”

The girl came bolting down the stairs ten minutes later, sending curses throughout the house before swiftly leaving. Wooyoung was quick to follow her down, instantly met with curious looks from the rest of the group. Seonghwa grabbed the remote and paused the movie to watch the boy, a slightly distressed mask sat upon his face.

“Damn, couldn’t get it up?” Yunho chuckled but was quickly silenced by the sharp daggers that Wooyoung shot at him. His gaze moved around the room, noticing the absence of someone.

“Where’s Y/N?” His eyebrows were furrowed, concern lacing his voice.

“She left about ten minutes ago.” San sighed and shook his head, a look of disappointment sent towards Wooyoung’s direction. Without hesitation, Wooyoung grabbed his car keys and sped off down the road towards the university dorms, pushing through the speed limits to get to you.

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Curled up under your covers, tears stained your cheeks as you sobbed into the pillow. The thought that he had already moved on, and with his original hook up plan, was too much. It hurt more than any argument you had between each other, your heart aching hopelessly in your chest. But what did you expect, really? You guys made a huge mistake by pushing the friendship boundaries to more, now suffering the consequences of unresolved feelings. Even if you were ready to talk about it, you were too late.

As soon as he was upstairs and out of sight, you got up and left in a hurry. San tried to calm you down but ultimately let you go once your eyes met and he saw the waterworks begin to well up in them. If you had stayed just a little longer, you would’ve realised that the girl left shortly after arriving, that Wooyoung looked for you as soon as she left and when realising you were gone, rushed towards you as fast as he possibly could. But if you had stayed, he wouldn’t be knocking desperately on your dorm door right now.

Wiping your burning cheeks of any reminiscence of tears, you shuffled towards the door, eyes blowing in shock to see the man standing in front of you. Panting heavily and leaning his hand against the door frame, his eyes met yours which caused his breath to ease back to normal, just by the small amount of eye contact. Moving out of the way, you let him in, instantly taking his usual spot on your bed as you got him some water from your mini fridge, which he gulped down in no more than a few seconds.

“Did you run here or something?” A soft chuckle leaving you as you watch the boy choke down the liquid.

“Only up the stairs.” He panted through the water bottle breaks. “Why is that elevator always broken-”

“Why are you here, Wooyoung?”

His attempt at breaking any awkward tension was quickly shut down, a serious look masking your face as he looked up at you. The first thing he noticed was your tear-stained face, the puffiness of your cheeks and the red rim in your eyes. His heart broke thinking he was the reason that made you cry. His hands cupped your face gently as he stood up, finger tips tracing the tears, saddened puppy eyes looking down at you.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke no higher than a whisper, almost inaudible. You weren’t really sure why he was apologising considering you were the avoidant one. “I think we need to talk about what happened…” You moved his hands from your face before leading him over to sit on your bed. An awkward silence fell between the two of you, both of you unsure of how to start the conversation before Wooyoung spoke.

“Why have you been avoiding me all week?” He muttered, surprising you with his straightforwardness, but he couldn’t wait any longer — desperate for answers. “Do you… regret it?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then why avoid me?” The silence was deafening, the mumble of ‘I don’t know’ floating in the air. Your brain racked through every possible explanation but couldn’t find one, maybe because you weren’t entirely sure why you were avoiding him. He hadn’t given you any reason to, it was just your overthinking and anxious thoughts on the situation that caused you to be distant from Wooyoung, without true meaning behind it. Everytime you tried to explain yourself, the words would get stuck in your throat, leaving you to sit in an extended silence. He was sick of it.

“Look Y/N, I know how you get with stuff like this, how you overthink everything,” He held your hands in his lap, the gentle touch causing butterflies to form in your stomach as your eyes caught each other. 

“I love you, as a friend and as more. As soon as she entered my room, I knew it wasn’t what I wanted… who I wanted. Because, truthfully, all I want is you. All I’ve ever wanted is you, and I was always too scared to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin-”

His sentence was cut short by connecting your lips with his in a soft and gentle kiss. The sparks of built up tension over the years burst between you as you melted into each other’s touch, his hand moving to the nape of your neck. Pulling away, you watched as his gaze softened in yours, cupping his cheek with a delicate touch.

“I love you too.” You breathed in the broken kiss before he hastily reconnected your lips, feeling the smirk on his face whilst his tongue swiped at the bottom of your lip. Your lips parted and his tongue slipped in, the kiss firing with passion the moment your muscles danced together.

Lips pashing together and hands lingering had pushed your back to the bed, Wooyoung now hovering over you with the look of love filtered in his eyes. His tongue traced every part of your mouth, tangling itself between your teeth. His lips were plump and glistened in a coat of saliva, as did yours. As the kiss grew more lustful, you felt your core become more tense, a wet patch growing within your panties. He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your lips, watching as your face flushed a rosy pink and your eyes grew darker. He was losing all sense of control at the sight, leaning down to place soft kisses on your jawline and neck. You turned to grant his easier access to your neck, his lips finding that sweet sensitive spot within seconds and beginning to suckle lightly on it, eliciting a soft moan to fall from your parted lips. His pants tightened around him at the sound, holding in a groan of his own as he sucked harsh enough to begin to leave a pretty purple mark: one that, next morning, would let everyone know you were his.

Kissing his way back up your jawline, his breath hovered over your lips before attaching them back to yours. The kiss was filled with fire, tongues swirling and teeth clashing as you groaned hopelessly into each other’s mouths. Unconsciously, you rolled your hips upwards to feel friction at your wanting core, eliciting a deep moan from the back of Wooyoung’s throat as you grinded into the hardening bulge in his pants. Desperate for more friction, he slowly began rutting his hips into you, deliciously hitting the heat in your pants. You whined at the feeling, your hips matching his movements and begging for more. You tugged at the hem of his shirt, your lips breaking as he removed it then moving to remove your own. To his glad surprise, your breasts bounced out of your top and showed the lack of coverage, only returned with a sly smirk from Wooyoung.

He lent down and curled his tongue around your hardened nipple, his fingers pinching the other one. He sucked harshly on the bud, tongue swirling around it and nipping it between his teeth. A painful pleasure surged through your nerves, throwing your head back with a whine. His other hand palmed at the soft skin, rolling the bud between his fingers and sending shivers through your body. The teasing motions were expected by him, but he was agonisingly slow with them. He wanted to savour every moment with you, but the wetness growing within your pants was begging him to be inside of you. Almost as if he could read your body like a book, he kissed his way down your stomach and tugged your sweatpants off quickly. His eyes were instantly drawn to the visible wet patch that coated your panties, dragging his finger over it and watching as your body jolted to his touch.

“So wet for me, love.” He placed a soft kiss over your covered clit, you bit your lip to hold the moan that tried to escape you. A devious smirk curled at the corners of his lips as he continued to pepper delicate kisses over your heated core. Your hips moved upwards to chase more friction, but were met with a teasing laugh at your desperation.

“Please Woo… I need you…” You begged pathetically, but he was even more desperate to hear the pretty noises you were trying to contain.

Hooking his fingers underneath the band of your panties, he slowly pulled them down to reveal your glittering soaked folds. He dipped his tongue out to wet his lips as he looked at you, your face flushed with a crimson red and painted with a begging expression. He kissed your upper thighs and around your core, never making contact with where you wanted him most — until he had you begging for it.

Sliding his tongue slowly through your folds, flicking up on your sensitive bud, your arousal collecting on the tip of his tongue. He watched as your body shivered under his touch, soft moans falling through parted lips as he swirled his muscle around your clit. Hungry eyes stared up from between your legs, pupils blown with lust and desire, you didn’t think you could get any wetter but he just proved you wrong. Twisting and twirling his tongue through your heated core, your quiet moans morphing to louder whimpers as his actions increased in speed. It shocked you the way he could drive you so close to the edge of bliss so quickly, feeling your stomach pulse in pleasure and your orgasm getting ready to crash. He watched as your breaths grew hitched and your hips began to lightly grind into his mouth, feeling how close you were to falling off the edge.

“Woo… ‘gonna cum- ahh” You looked down at him as your orgasm was torn away, a smug smirk and hooded eyes glared back at you. A pout turned at your lips, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the loss of sensation, your hips attempting to chase it but being held down by a rough hand.

“You didn’t think I’d let you go that easy, did you?” A condescending laugh left him as he watched you. “You ignore me all week and think you’re not getting any punishment for it? Wow, you spoiled little slut.”

He ran the pad of his thumb over your extra sensitive bundle of nerves, your body instantly reacting with a jolt and a whine leaving your lips. Waiting for your breath to return to normal, chest bouncing less than before, he reconnected his swollen lips to your clit. Without warning, he began harshly sucking at it, your hand running to grip into his hair which returned you with a moan vibrating through your core and adding extra sensations to the overstimulation. One hand was pushed gently on your lower stomach as his other preoccupied itself with two fingers, toying with your clenching hole before slowly pushing them in. The sensation of his two fingers pumping deep within you had your gummy walls hopelessly constricting, the curling of them pushing against that special spongy spot was driving you closer to another high.

“P-please Woo, I’m so close.” You believed you would never beg a man for anything, but here you were, pathetically whining for Wooyoung to let you cum as your high grew closer. He smirked into your heat, pumping his digits deeper and earning a loud moan to vibrate through the air. The clench was immediate and he knew you were close again. He swirled his tongue at immense speeds, lewd slurping noises filled the room as he hungrily devoured your juicy folds like it was his last meal, your voice forming incoherent words that turned to moans. 

But again, just before the band in your stomach snapped, Wooyoung pulled himself away and laughed as you growled in annoyance.

“Stop teasing me!” You huffed out, exasperation lacing your voice as you caught your breath back. Wooyoung couldn’t help but find you adorable: your flushed cheeks, your swollen lips from biting them, the death glare you sent his way.

“Come on love, don’t be so greedy.” He chuckled, his body moving up yours until he hovered over you once more. You hadn’t noticed that he removed his hands, but the prominent bulge in his boxers that poked at your thigh made you well aware.

He began peppering your face and jawline with delicate kisses, the soft demeanor change started turning your brain to fog. His lips moved over your jawline and neck, tracing the already formed hickeys from earlier.

“Beg for it.” He seductively whispered in your ear before nibbling on the lobe. Lifting his head from your neck, his eye contact was instant, intense and filled with taunting desire.

“Please…” A breathy whine spilled from your lips. “I’m begging… please”

Unhesitating, Wooyoung crawled back down your body and swiftly rekindled his way between your legs, the sharp sting of his tongue hitting your overstimulated bud coursed pleasure through your veins. He pushed your legs up and ordered you to hold yourself by the knees, giving his easier access. The sponginess of his tongue was quickly met with your gummy walls, pumping his muscle in and out and covering it in your built up arousal. Your moans filtered his ears and encouraged him for more, digging his nose into your clit whilst his tongue continued to pound your tight hole.

You could already feel your orgasm about to burst once more, disordered moans and begs purified the air, praying that Wooyoung would finally finish you. Your legs started to shake, even with your hands holding them and knuckles growing white from the intense grip. He groans deeply into your seeping core as you clenched around his tongue once more, your orgasm snapping in your stomach and spilling out — more intensely than expected. Wooyoung drank up every ounce of arousal that leaked out of you, the taste becoming his new favourite beverage.

As you rode out your high, your hips slowly stopped any grinded movements and breath returned to normal, you looked between your legs and eyes widened in shock. Wooyoung’s face was dripping wet, the front strands of his hair slightly sticking to his forehead and not from sweat. You saw the soaked patch that sat between you on your sheets, a wave of embarrassment crashing over you. He only chuckled lowly, licking his lips of your essence and wiping the droplets escaping his chin. Climbing back up your body, he uncovered your hands from your face and placed a gentle yet lustful kiss on your swollen lips, the taste of your arousal mixed in both your mouths as your tongues danced.

He gripped your hips tightly before flipping you over, with you now straddling his waist and lips still connected. You wanted to return the favour, kissing down his neck and chest to meet with the hard-on beneath his boxers. Pulling them down, his dick bounced out and lightly hit his abdomen, the tip swollen and red and leaking with pre-cum. He pulled his hands behind his bed, cockily watching you as you stared at his very hard, very large cock, a large smirk claiming his face.

All of his arrogance was gone the moment your hand wrapped around the base and slowly pumped, your tongue tracing the underside vein. Your lips wrapped around his swollen tip, tongue swiping over the slit and sending chills through his entire body.

You began to gather your hair, holding it up with your free hand before it was replaced with Wooyoung’s grip. He sent you a small wink as you looked up at him, encouraging and assuring you to keep going. He had never seen a hotter sight than your pretty mouth wrapped around his length. You steadily started to bob your head up and down, swirling your tongue over the tip every few bobs, your hand pumping the length you couldn’t fit in your mouth. He growled deeply at the sensation, throwing his head back against the wall and tightening the grip on your hair. The pull at your head made you dizzy with pleasure once more, a moan trembling within your voice and down Wooyoung’s cock. His hips began to buck upwards and match your rhythm, chasing more friction as you continued to pump.

“Fuuck love, you’re doing so good.” He groaned, his voice had a gravelly accent to it.

You could feel his body tensing underneath you, showing you he was about to crack. You slowed down the bobbing of your head, stopping at the tip and suckling it lightly before pushing your mouth down his entire length, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Wooyoung moaned louder than before, the grip on your hair tightening before pulling you up and watching you pant softly.

“Y/N baby, do that again…” Practically whining your name, his dick twitching in your hands, more pre-cum desperately dripping out of it and mixing with your saliva coating. 

And you did exactly what he asked, wrapping your lips around him once again and deep throating the length with every nod.

His moans grew higher with every motion, his abs tensing every time his cock smacked at the back of your throat. Orgasm just sitting on the edge, he clasped your hair with force and encouraged your motions to speed up. Your hand’s grip tensed around his base as his high crashed into him like a tidal wave, his hand holding you down on him causing you to gag around his length — ultimately sending extra sensations for him. His white ropes spilled out into your mouth, leaking from the sides and down your chin as he held you in place, milking him of every string drop. After the final spur of his high calmed, his grip ceased and you lifted your head, swallowing his juice as he watched with a smirk.

A smirk that told you, you weren’t finished.

He grabbed you by the wrist, guiding you up to straddle his waist before watching as you lined yourself up with him. You ran his — still extremely hard — cock through your folds, flinching as the tip hit your clit. Lining yourself up, his hands moved to your hips and helped lower yourself on him, both moaning in unison as the burning sensation. Your walls constricted around him like a python, the feeling of him hitting your gummy spot as he bottomed out was delectable. You started to move your hips before the grip on them tightened.

“Wait love,” Concern instantly washed over your face, only answered by a small hoarse chuckle. “If you move, it’ll be over too quickly.”

You could only giggle in response, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on his lips. There was no time before gentle kisses turned into a passionate makeout, whimpering into each other’s mouths as your tongues twirled together. His hands moved around your entire body, grasping and pinching every inch he could reach. The simple passion quickly escalated once more to pure desire. Wooyoung began to buck his hips upwards, a moan falling through you at the sudden penetration, causing you to disconnect your lips. Desperate for more friction, you sat up and began to rise and fall on him, his hands finding their place on your hips once more.

He guided your motions with a hard grip, hard enough to bruise, but you didn’t care. The pleasure of him was all that mattered to you. You threw your head back as your moans grew higher and bounces became sloppier. How he could get you so close to an orgasm so quickly was beyond you, yet you felt the similar band prepare itself to snap. 

The room was mixing with the scent of sex and the sound of hopeless moans and slaps of skin, both bodies glistened with a sheen of sweat. People who lived in the dorms were certainly aware of the ceremony happening…

Wooyoung watched as you jumped up and down like a bunny, your belly tightening as your orgasm neared. Releasing his grip on one side of your hips, his hand hastily moved you where you were joint, the pad of his thumb rubbing against your over sensitive bud. Within seconds, your hips jolted and walls clenched as your orgasm hit you like bricks. He halted his own high to follow yours, overstimulating your clit with his finger, the restriction around him cursing him to finish himself. Through hooded eyes he watched as you came down from waves of pleasure, waiting for you to calm before his hand quickly circled your waist and flipped you over in seconds. He buried his head in your neck, low groans filtering your ears as he thrusted sloppy and hopelessly into you, biting down on your shoulder. It was seconds before his white ropes spilled into you and filled you up with warmth, his dick twitching as your over sensitive walls clenched around him, bleeding him dry.

Both panting as you calmed from your highs, he started kissing his way back up to your face, peppering your lips with fragile and soft kisses. You wrapped your arms around him and cuddled into his neck, breathing in the cologne scent that drove you insane. Sitting in a comfortable silence, the setting was tranquil and undisturbed as you enjoyed the solidarity of each other’s company before cleaning yourself up and falling asleep.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

The morning warmth spat through the small window in your dormitory, an orange glow overlaying the room and reflecting off the mirror on the back of your door — directing in your line of vision. Your eyes flickered open attempting to adjust to the bright sensation. In a state of semi-wake, you began to stretch your body before an arm tightened around your waist, followed by an annoyed groan.

“Don’t move, I’m comfortable.” He breathed into your ear, the air warm against your skin as he nestled his head back into your shoulder, lips resting against it.

“You… stayed?” You whispered, slightly turning your head to look at the boy in your bed.

“Of course,” Lifting his head to meet your eyes, a soft smile curled at his lips before he placed a delicate kiss on your cheek. “I don’t just pack up my stuff and leave.”

The not-so-subtle dig earned him a slap to the shoulder, sheepishly giggling before littering your face with kisses. Compared to the intensity of the previous night, he was so soft and full of love in the morning — not expecting any extra pleasure but just enjoying the morning bliss of affection. He wrapped his arms around your waist securely, not wanting to let go before pulling you into his chest. Wrapping a leg around his waist, one hand rested on your thigh whilst the other played with your hair almost sending you back to sleep.

The morning was nice: peaceful.

No guilt or regret travelled from the night before, instead filtered with love and adoration.

However, overthinking still sat in the back of your mind.

“So, what do we do now?” You whispered into his chest, the silence that followed made you unsure if he heard you.

“I’m not sure.” Wooyoung finally breathed out, the calm pattern of his chest rising and falling doing little to calm you.

“I don’t think we can go back to… just being friends.” Mumbling quieter this time, uncertainty laced within your voice. Wooyoung could sense that you were nervous, overthinking the situation like you usually would.

More silence followed, the atmosphere growing slightly awkward.

“I don’t want to go back to that.”

You looked up at him, instantly met with the eye contact he sent down through a sleepy haze. Although you were an abid overthinker, you could see through his hooded eyes that he was genuine.

“Y/N love, I want to be yours: only yours. And I want you to be only mine.” He cupped your face lightly with his cheek, the instant flush to your cheeks obvious to him and causing a small chuckle to fall through his lips before continuing. 

“We should try being together, and if that doesn’t work — even though I’m certain it will — we can go back to being friends and laugh about this whole situation in the future when we’re old and decrepit.”

His humoured seriousness caused you to laugh, hiding yourself in his neck and he ran his fingers through your hair once more.

“Let’s try it.” You whispered into his neck, the instant validation causing Wooyoung to grab your face and stare at you in a shocked bliss: he definitely expected you to distant yourself again and say no. He smiled brightly before pulling you into a tight kiss, hands tangled in your hair and around your body so you wouldn’t disappear.

Without the knowledge of each other’s wishes for a romance, you both granted them together.

author's note hey lovelies !! i hope you enjoy chapter two, sorry it took me so long i had writers block for a bit on this. hopefully it's alright ('>.<') ୨୧ san x reader side will be in the works but probably won't be posted for a while since i have requests and other drafts to catch up on

୨୧ taglist @morethingsfandom @dreamsoffanfics @butterflydemons @youmeandwords @hwascutewife @e3ellie @hoe4kpop @moonlight-hwa @dawn-iscozy @chososho3 @dejatiny @betda @woozit @mystery-girl227 @likeathunderoverflow @santineez @rachs-words @imlonelydontsendhelp @wooyoungjung99 @anonn0n

[soaps-mohawk]

I'm going to be honest

I'm having a genuinely hard time making this post. I've been fighting with it for a couple weeks now, but I think it's time I finally make it.

I'm not having fun on this blog anymore.

It sounds bad, but honestly, it kind of is.

I think a lot of it started from the very beginning with the precedence and expectations I put on myself. I've always tried to respond to every comment I get. Even from the beginning. It's just a polite thing to do since those who leave comments took the time to write out what they think of my fic, even if it's just a keysmash. I've always felt the need to thank those who leave comments or reblog my writing or (now that tumblr has it) replied to my fics. It worked fine before because none of my fics were particularly popular. Even my most popular fic (at that time) didn't get as much attention as CRCB has. I've never had a "big blog" before, nor a fic as popular as CRCB has gotten.

It was fine at first, responding to everyone, engaging with everyone. I was riding that high of omg so many people are reading and enjoying my fic! I've never had anything quite like this before.

Now...it just feels more like a chore. I set this precedence on this blog that I respond to everyone and I know a lot of people have said that they're surprised I responded to them and to everyone, and now I'm getting why a lot of writers don't. I'm exhausted. I feel like I've just been robotically saying the same thing over and over trying to respond to people now. I used to love seeing asks in my inbox and reblogs and replies but now? All I feel is dread because I have to respond to all of those.

Turning anon off was a big help. It lessened the sheer volume of asks I was getting a day. And while I do feel bad for all of my anons who prefer to stay anons, with everything that happened (the multiple incidents) with anon that kind of started to suck the joy out of everything. That paired with the obsessive need to constantly have my inbox cleared and make sure everyone gets a response...I can understand now too why big blogs will have 200+ asks in their inbox. It's hard and it's exhausting and I'm burning out.

First it was the fic that was burning me out. Things have gone on far longer than I planned and I just wasn't prepared for this fic to go on and for a while there it was dragging. I'll admit that. If I could go back, I'd speed up a few things, but it's done, it's posted there's no going back. I kind of hoped I would have the mental capacity to upload more than once a week too, but I just couldn't. I still can't.

I've come to dread posting chapters because I know I'm going to have to reply and respond to everyone. The only thing keeping me posting is the fact that we're in the part of the story I've been excited about since the beginning and also because I keep leaving everyone on cliffhangers and I love torturing y'all with all of them.

So that being said, this is in no way to shame anyone for interacting with me, anyone leaving comments or replies or sending asks. Don't feel bad about doing it please. I appreciate all of you that have engaged with me and it really means so much to me. Honestly, earlier this year, if I didn't have this fic and everyone on this blog, I might not have made it to now. It's been a really rough year and it's still going to be into next year. It's just getting to the point where I need a break.

I've needed a break for a long time. I thought taking days off the blog would help, and it did for a couple of weeks, but now even on the days I'm supposed to be on the blog and engaging, I just find myself queueing stuff up and just being offline most of the day still.

I'm tired. That's the best reason I can give. I'm tired and burned out on life and I'm tired and burned out on this blog.

So...I think I need a break. I need to not keep responding to every single reply and reblog every chapter. I need to not force myself to answer every ask right away, no matter how much I want to. I feel bad, but I know everyone would rather have me here and enjoying the blog than forcing myself to interact to the point where I'm dreading it and just robotically repeating myself over and over with every reply and answer and comment.

I won't be pausing the fic, I won't be not uploading. I'll still be posting chapters, I just might not be interacting as much as I have been. It's just putting such a mental strain on me still, even with anon off, even with days off. And with things getting busier for me, it's going to be too much to try and deal with irl stuff and write and try to be super active on the blog. There's going to come a point where I have to sacrifice the writing or the blog and I'd rather sacrifice the blog to keep myself sane, and also to keep trying to finally get this fic done. I love this fic, don't get me wrong, but I'm just burning out.

I'm already burned out in a lot of ways.

I was planning kinktober this year but honestly I'm considering not doing it because I know interaction is going to be insane and it's going to be a lot to keep up on. Plus trying to write that many fics is hard and I'm not sure I have the ability to do it. I have a few done but now I'm just like...is that something I want to do on top of irl stuff and CRCB.

There's just no joy in it anymore. It's not anyone's fault but mine. I put the pressure on myself, I held myself to that standard for this long despite the fact I knew it was draining me. I've tried to push through when I should have prioritized myself. I feel so guilty not responding to everyone. I feel so guilty being a day or two late responding to everyone.

I want to be here and interacting and responding to things but I just can't bring myself to anymore. It's no one's fault, and this is not a drag on anyone, or an attempt to make anyone feel bad or guilty for interacting or sending asks or anything. I'm just airing out the truth and saying what I need to say because I feel like I've been so robotic and lifeless with my responses these last couple weeks and I feel like I need to explain why. It's nothing anyone has done. It's my fault. It's 100% my fault.

Things have just gotten to be too much and it's my fault for forcing myself to be so active. The social battery has dropped into the negatives. I'm not a social person. I can only handle so much interaction and I've pushed so far beyond that, that things have gotten to this point. I want to be here and I want to have fun and I want to use this as an escape but I just don't feel that way about it anymore. It's a chore for me, a job, something I feel like I have to do and it's my fault that I feel that way. It's my own standards and expectations I set on myself, and my expectations on what I think my followers want and deserve and now I feel like I've gone on too long like this that I can't change things without hurting anyone's feelings. I don't want people to think I'm ignoring them in favor of others because I know there's writers out there that do that. They only respond to a certain group and ignore others that comment and reblog. I don't want to make anyone feel like I'm doing that to them and that's now led me to here.

I'm forcing it and I'm tired.

It's been hard these last few weeks. The life has just been draining and draining continuously. The joy and the love I have for this blog and my followers and the interactions and the fic. The last anon bullshit that happened was just kind of the last nail in the coffin so to speak. The straw that broke the camel's back. Things stopped being fun. It made me feel bad (and not in the guilty way, though that was a part of it) and I'm honestly just over it. I'm over the blog, I'm over interacting, I'm over life at this point. August is a hard month for me and every year it seems to get worse and worse. A lot of it is unrelated to anything online and I was going to make a post about it but honestly I just don't want to. Those that know, know. Those that don't...it doesn't matter.

I'm getting annoyed by the blog, I'm getting annoyed every time I look in my notifications and see an ask or a reply or a comment. I'm getting annoyed by some of my followers and that's not fair to you. Everyone always talks about how nice and kind and patient I am when I'm really not. I'm not the person I present myself to be on this blog, the way I mask myself so I can present myself as being a normal, kind human being. The mask is coming off because I'm so tired I can't keep it up anymore. It's happening here and it's happening in real life. I'm tired and I'm frustrated and I'm angry at a lot of things and the last thing I want is to start taking it out on my followers. You don't deserve that, especially when it's not your fault, it's nothing any of you have done. It's all me.

It's not you, it's me.

So for the sake of not burning this whole thing to the ground, I'm going to take a break. I'm not replying to everyone, I'm not responding to every reblog, I won't reply to every ask I get right away, if at all because sometimes I just don't have anything to say in response and I need to learn that's okay. It's nothing against you. It's not aimed at anyone specifically, I'm just trying to put myself first and stop things from escalating. I need a break and I'm going to do something selfish and I'm going to take it.

Don't apologize because it's not your fault. Don't apologize because you think you might have contributed to this because you didn't. It is no one's fault but my own.

I'm the one that needs to apologize to all of you because I've just not been myself because I've been forcing myself to be someone I'm not. I've been very unfair to a lot of people over the last seven months that this blog has been active and I've held a precedent that is not sustainable in the long run and made everyone believe that I was capable of maintaining that kind of interaction when I'm not.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been putting everyone through this. I'm sorry I've been so detached and robotic and ingenuine. I'm sorry I led everyone to believe I'm someone I'm not. I'm sorry I've dragged this on this long that it's gotten to the point that I have to make this post.

I considered just disappearing but that wouldn't be fair to you either. I don't want to put you through that, so I'm pouring all of my thoughts out and making you read through this fucking novel of a post. If you've made it this far, then congrats I guess. Gold metals to you who bothered reading this far.

Anyway, all of that aside, I'll still be posting chapters. I'll have them scheduled and I'll probably come on and add links places to keep things current. I'll respond and reply and answer asks when I feel like it. You don't have to stop sending them, but just don't expect them to be responded to right away anymore. I'll probably still be here reblogging things I want and doing things when I feel like it.

I just need a few weeks to myself. Time I don't have to care about the blog at all and keeping up with it. Anon will remain off for the sake of keeping asshole trolls away, and also so I don't open tumblr and have 200 asks in my inbox after a week. Sorry to my anons but it's just the way it needs to be right now. Maybe once this break is over and I've dealt with irl stuff, I'll consider putting it back on. I just can't after everything I dealt with recently on anon.

It'll be the same on Ao3, for those that follow here and read there. Comments will probably sit for a while. They won't be answered right away anymore unless I get the energy to burn through them. Even then I won't try to answer them all at once like I did this last weekend.

I'll try to reblog something every day so y'all know I'm alright. I don't want y'all to panic and it's not fair to put you through that, especially those that might not see this or bother reading it. Those that follow simply for the fic and nothing else. I'm here, I'm just not...here.

This week's chapter is in the queue to be posted tomorrow as usual. Chapters will still come out as planned since I'm not stopping writing, just taking a break from the blog itself.

Thank you those of you who stuck through to the end here. I appreciate all of you so much. You have no idea. I'm sorry I let things get to this point and I'm sorry to anyone that I've gotten rude or snappy with because I couldn't be selfish and put myself first. I'm sorry to anyone that got a robotic, repeated response to something they were probably excited to share. I'm sorry I've been so unfair to everyone and I hope you can forgive me.

Take care and I'll talk to everyone when I have the energy to.

[888-fr]

WHY I DON'T RETIRE MY SKINS: an essay

Disclaimer that I'm speaking from a point of being established here, because not everybody can afford to run their skin shop like I do. I don't judge less established artists for needing to limit their skins because they can't afford to print a run with only 2 people on it. I'm also not judging anybody who does retire their skins after a set number of prints - whole different matter! I'm giving an opinion piece based on my own personal thoughts about running my own skin shop.

Okay, now that's out of the way. I really dislike the idea of time-limiting my skins. There's just no actual justification for me, as an established skin artist, to limit skins I know will sell... aside from prestige, and putting buying pressure on my customers. So there's a couple of reasons I don't like that:

1) Erodes trust in the artist.

Yes, I could probably make more money if I kept my skins limited so people HAD to pick up my skin on release. Maybe even all 4 colors of the skin, including the one they don't really keep in their hoard. Just in case they want it down the line but it won't be available anymore.

Is this good business practice though? Do I want people to start feeling panicked every time I ping for a release, because they just picked up a new project and really really CAN'T afford to be buying skins right now but there's 5 colorways of my skin available and they'll probably be resold for 2kg as soon as they retire?

Personally, no! I want people excited when I ping, not feeling dread in their hearts and budgets. I want people to be thinking: 'Awesome, a new skin! I can't afford that right now but I know he always keeps a few on the AH at print price even after preorders end. Even if I can't buy a skin just this moment, I'll be sure to keep an eye on his thread for when I have gems again.' Or: "Awesome, a new skin! This one doesn't appeal to my lair aesthetic, so I will just nod and smile. I don't feel the need to buy it in case it gets popular for resale, because it will always be on the AH for print price."

People tell me about unsubscribing from GASP because they get anxiety being pinged for skins they want but can't have. So I want people to stay on my pinglist because there's no pressure on them whatsoever to purchase anything. It'll always be here, okay? In the meantime, just enjoy the art, maybe preview it on a scry or two. I'll be here if you're back in three weeks, or three months.

2) Passive income!

I lied. I probably would've made less money time limiting all my skins than by keeping my skins restocked. A couple of reasons for this:

- My earlier skins sold worse. This isn't psychology, it's just numbers. Some of my most popular stock were made early on in 2021/2022. I didn't have that many sales then, so could you imagine if I had retired them immediately after that? There's 230something copies of SAILOR'S WARNING out in the world right now. If that skin was time limited after preorders died down, I would've sold "only" 50 forever.

- People see my shop stock whenever you ping for a new releases. I get 3-4 sales off auction house whenever I release something new and people check my front page. It's not a lot but it's consistent.

- It's a win-win situation, okay? If a skin is popular, there's no reason to time limit it to drive up sales. If it IS popular, then people are going to see it on other people's dragons, go "damn that's a nice skin," and maybe do an AH search for it. And if there's a cheap print price copy available, they're gonna buy it.

2) Reprints are easy!

It was a lot more annoying to keep track of queue numbers and inventory back when reprints had to go through regular queue for a week. Did I put in 10 copies of SUNHEAVEN already? Wait, are my kitsune aethers back yet? How many of MOLOCH are still listed?

Now I can put in a blueprint and get my reprint instantly. No fuss at all.

3) I don't want to buy into the 'this is a retired skin' hype...

This is just personal preference. It makes me feel a little bad when a public skin I made is popular and people can't afford to have it. I'm not judging anybody who does like it when their skins are rare, special, and sought after.

It's just... I get that part of my brain scratched from my customs. They're gorgeous, they're 5 prints, they're on the AH for 30kg if you really want one. Most importantly they're niche and high coverage enough that even if someone hadn't paid me to draw an exclusive skin specifically for their dragon, they'd never do well as a public skin anyway.

Here are some tips for people looking into keeping their skins unlimited:

- You don't need to do it like I do.

Blueprints are expensive. Even I don't have my entire catalogue stocked, only the ones I noticed always have reprint requests. For example, only SAILOR'S WARNING out of 4 total colors for my impm skins is kept stocked because the others don't sell enough to justify it.

If you can't afford to stock them 10 at a time, have the customer provide the blueprints. Shelving your skins but having them be reprintable with a BP and a fee (350g is good for 850g print prices; remember, 500g of that went to you purchasing blueprints in the public run, so it doesn't make sense to charge customers a whole 850g when they're already providing the blueprint) is a good alternative to permanently retiring your skins. You don't get a ton of people who can afford that, but the option is there for people who want it.

- Notice which skins sell!

If you already have a good amount of skins in catalogue and have trouble figuring out which ones to begin stocking, you can start by checking in with your pinglist. Poll them and see which ones you'd want to rerun.

- Don't have so many recolors.

It's a law of the universe that they more recolors you have, the worse they sell collectively. I usually do 2, no more than 3. If you have to time limit your skins to get 6 recolors to hit print, then it's time to cut those recolors down.

There's reasons for this: it's choice paralysis, people may want 'complete sets' and will skip out if you're making that complete set cost 4kg total, and it just plain doesn't make sense for very similar color schemes to cover 4 different skins. Feel free to print personal recolors or have custom recolors open.

[thephooka]

Happy Webcomic Day! My webcomic White Noise is a labor of love--according to Procreate, this page took me 15.5 hours to complete.* Here's a look into that process!

Some other notes:

The thumbnails are done on graph paper and I script while I do them--there is no separate written script for White Noise. I usually spent a couple hours on weekends as needed thumbnailing, sometimes at a coffee shop or at home listening to records.

I then set up the file in Photoshop, so I can lay in the text and use the template I have with bleeds already set up. The text is rasterized and I shuttle the file over to my iPad via Airdrop.

The bulk of the actual work is done in Procreate, which records timelapses that I sometimes share to my Patreon. I usually spend a couple hours most nights after my day job or on the bus commuting doing this.

Once everything art-wise is done, I shuttle the file back over to my desktop to re-set in the text, add a stroke around the speech bubbles (Procreate doesn't have that took fsr) and do the resizing/exporting for web.

On Sunday mornings I get up, queue the page and write the page descriptions. I don't spend any time on the page descriptions outside of that.

Also, this process goes for the whole first arc of White Noise. I'm done with that arc (which means you can binge the whole thing I'm js!!) and am experimenting with some different methods these days, but my workflow is still generally the same.

*Some more talk about the labor (and burnout) involved below the cut:

This particular page (and most of the pages I did in 2023) took a lot longer than normal because I was heading into a burnout period that I'm still lowkey in/recovering from. It's obvious to me now in retrospect watching the timelapse here and seeing how much noodling I'm doing and how much I'm struggling with the process, but at the time I was just very frustrated generally. When I'm not burned tf out pages take maybe 10 hours max.

2023 was a pretty stressful year--lots of big life changes, uncertainty, pet death, health issues--so it's no wonder it propelled me into burnout, but it just goes to show that even the slowest and steadiest pace is not sustainable forever. I've been doing one page a week following this general process for over a decade! And I stuck to that pace because I knew it was one I could maintain. But even so, by the end of this arc I found myself working more and more slowly, not really looking forward to the work, feeling anxious about being behind, unhappy with the finished work, and extremely annoyed with myself for not being able to give it my all right there at the finish line.

I did stop for a while after the epilogue and took a more or less complete break from drawing for about a month--the longest I have EVER gone without drawing, much less working on White Noise--which did help, but these days my ability to work is...inconsistent. I should probably take another total break, but I'm reluctant. What if my passion never comes back? What if people forget about WN? It's already pretty obscure, and with the general social media collapse, it's harder than ever to get people to read my work. Now that I've left Hiveworks, WN doesn't even get the benefit of being linked to other comics (although objectively very, very few readers actually got referred to my comic that way.) And frankly, I'm also just too proud to go too long without comic updates. I've always told myself, I might not be the best artist or the fastest worker or make a popular comic, but I'm consistent. Difficult to let that go.

This is all to say that webcomics are hard. We do them because we love them, we have stories to tell, we are seized with the human compulsion to create. We spend hours of our time, almost always on top of the paying work that allows us to eat, to make something that we then give away for free. It has consequences on us that the reader doesn't often see, no matter how careful we are about it. If you ask me, webcomics deserve to be valued more.

Happy Webcomic Day! Read webcomics!

[poorlittlegreenie13]

20 odd years after Van & Tai broke up, on a random weekday, Taissa gets a call to her office phone. When she picks up, Natalie is on the other line, asking if Taissa is alone. Tai braces for the worst, closing her office door and trying to prepare herself for whatever it is Natalie’s about to say.

“It’s Van,” Natalie tells her, “she just got charged with manslaughter in the state of Ohio, she needs a lawyer.”

Queue Taissa panicking, because her and Van have not spoken in decades, and while Taissa may have graduated first in her class at Columbia, her degree was in civil law—she’s not totally confident in a criminal case.

Still, she obviously drops everything and drives across the country to Van, who she finds sitting in a county jail cell with a black eye and bruised knuckles.

“Other guy looks worse,” Van says with a wry smile the minute she spots Taissa, but her smile drops and she shakes her head. “I told Natalie not to call you.”

“Can you afford another lawyer?” Taissa asks, familiar worry rushing back in as she looks at Van, older and different, but still so terrifyingly the same. Taissa can’t suppress the old instinct to reach out and brush her fingers across the bruise on Van’s cheek.

“You’re not gonna get me out of this one, Tai,” Van says. “It was a bar fight. There are witnesses.”

“Did you start it?” Taissa asks.

Van raises an eyebrow. “Course not,” she says. “Just… got a little carried away finishing it.”

Taissa clears her throat, mind snapping back to all the countless seminar hours she spent reviewing every facet of a good narrative argument. “You’re a visible lesbian in suburban Ohio,” she says. “You have a history of severe mental trauma, you have character witnesses who can speak on your behalf. We can claim self-defense, coupled with acute mental distress aggravated by a violent confrontation. You’re gonna be fine, Van. You’ll get court-mandated counseling, at worst, and maybe that’ll be for the best anyway.”

“I can’t pay you, Tai,” Van says, taking a step back from the bars that are separating them. “And you’re not doing this for free.”

“Why not?” Taissa asks, frustration creeping into her tone.

“Because friends do things for free,” Van says. “And we’re not friends anymore, Tai, we’re not anything.”

Taissa sets her jaw in annoyance.

“I’m not letting some public defender glance over your file and plead this out,” Taissa says. “You’ll do jail time, Van. You’ll lose your store.”

Van looks away from Taissa, staring at her shoes, scuffing one toe against the ground.

“Let me do this, Van,” Taissa says, voice low. “Please.”

She can see Van considering it, chewing on her lip, silently seeming to weigh her options.

“Van, my marriage is falling apart,” Taissa says, not even sure why the words are coming to her, but speaking them anyway. “My kid is scared of me, my wife thinks I’m crazy. And maybe I am. I mean, how many people would hear about someone they love beating some scumbag to death in a bar and not bat an eye? I know you, Van, we know each other, no matter how much time goes by. Just let me do this for you, please. I could only stay away all this time cause I knew you were alright here. I couldn’t sleep at night if you were locked up in some penitentiary.”

Van looks up at her, eyes glassy. Taissa holds her breath. After a minute, Van nods.

“I’m gonna post your bail, okay?” Taissa says. “And then I’ll drive you home and we can go over your statement together.”

Again, Van nods.

She spends that night with her head in Taissa’s lap, absolutely furious at herself for caving that easily. It’s just been a long few days, alright?

Tai wraps up Van’s bruised knuckles and makes her ice her black eye, both of them pretending it isn’t almost unbearable being around each other like this and not talking about everything that went down between them years ago.

Taissa stays the week, going over Tai’s files and frantically serving the court order after order about the gross mishandling of Van’s arrest and the evidence against her. She stays up most nights working. Van can’t sleep either. Somewhere along the way, they start talking to fill the time.

It turns into a year and a half of Taissa spending half her time in Ohio on Van’s couch (and occasionally, when Van’s nightmares get too bad, in her bed), preparing for a weirdly low profile manslaughter trial that no one quite understands why she’s so fixated on. Simone eventually leaves her & goes off to live her best life without Taissa’s crazy ass (affectionate). Tai barely notices her wife leaving her cause she’s too busy falling back in love with her ex girlfriend who cracked a grown man’s skull with her bare hands.

Tai wins the trial, obviously, and Van walks away with no charges. Tai and Van make out in a court house bathroom immediately after they get the verdict. Then they move in together somewhere between Ohio and New Jersey. Taissa loves her murderer girlfriend so much <3 & Van loves her pitbull defense attorney girlfriend more than anything <3. The end.)

[hochmvt]

my loves, i hope y'all are having a fantastic time no matter what you're celebrating! i'm doing somewhat better already (is it the vacation or the fact that i had my official goodbye at my old job? is it both? probably) and while isaiah is having the best holiday season of his life, i've come to some conclusions regarding this blog. more under the cut.

first and foremost: i'll be less active here in 2025. DON'T PANIC, i will not go and i'll still write threads, but my new job will be time consuming, especially in the beginning and i want to work on personal projects and goals (because mun wanted to attempt writing a novel for some time now, as well as putting focus on YT + the occassional hobbies and friends lol). what that means:

1) from january on threads will run exclusively over queue. this helps me with time management. queue posts once a day with a new text every three days (if there are any ofc). 

2) there is a minor change in the guidelines regarding writing threads. i ask you to progress the story when you answer. i highly recommend you to read them if you want a more detailed explanation of what that means. 

3) i have my queue locked and loaded for you guys. the way it's set it'll run until mid january for now, which helps my time management, too. when i tackled my drafts however, i realized i needed somewhat of a fresh start, which is why i will drop some threads. this has nothing to do with you or your muse but i want to focus on some texts and my time unfortunately doesn't allow to continue every single one of them. this, by no means, means that i'm not open to plot/write new ones. for the time being, i will continue the following threads (answers follow within the next few weeks):

@sonnenreich the break-in   ¦   we're stranded on the beach in our dream   ¦   daisy   ¦   backroads of america   ¦   in another life   ¦   clap clap   ¦   hoist the colors (starter follows in early january) @heiliqe sicilian overture @arthisan we're not safe, we're fucked   ¦   to the stars (starter follows in mid january) @geisterwelt haunted house (parties) @wrathbait campfire stories (already answered) @wickedslip peace and quiet @onlyfngs fawn of a new day (already answered)

and that's it. it sounds like 'an awful lot will change and I'll never be here or online again' but i'm sure you'll barely notice it. i need to get back to my good time management days. if you wanna DM me, you'll have me replying much faster on discord. just hmu if we're mutuals. much love to y'all, i hope you have a fantastic christmas season and i hope you'll feel just as happy as isaiah does at the moment. <3

[aita-polls]

Two quick updates!

I was not feeling good yesterday and had to take some time off work to rest and recover, as such I did not have the energy to queue up any polls yesterday/this morning; my sincerest apology for the delay. More polls will be posted today.

Secondly, on the topic of missing comments on posts, I am still working with Tumblr Support on this. We have most likely figured out why certain comments aren’t appearing, now it’s just a matter of figuring out how to fix it. I should have a resolution for this soon.

In other news, submissions are still open so feel free to drop an ask and it will be posted ASAP!!

Thank you all for your patience!

P.S: Do you guys like having polls last for one week or would you prefer they only be kept open for a day? I have them set to one week currently just in case someone misses a few days but wanted to check back on the polls during the week and still have the opportunity to vote on them but I understand if a submitter for example would want to see the results of a poll sooner.

[inhayara]

A Day in the Life Of

something I wrote instead of procrastinating.

***

:begin:

m = 2kg

a is constant

no friction → closed energy system

PEg = PEs (?)

Fnet =

Fnet =

Fnet = …

Bzzt! karelyn.velaii messaged you on instagram.

Tak, tak-tak tak tak tak.

Haha. No, no, you’re supposed to be working. You’ll talk to her later. Exit the conversation.

Exit the a- “Someone wrote a fanfiction about me. You guys, I have to read this-”

“Personally I think the phrase “it’s okay to not be okay”-”

“POV: you walk up to the register in full cosplay-”

“Girls literally post on their instagram-”

“Why is it always “girl spill the tea” and never-”

“I think it’s time we do something about the straight man population yall-”

“Old people are always like “oh back in my day there was no autism”- “

A phone crashes against a pillow. You crash back with it.

Fnet =

Fnet =

Fn- You should probably move those stickers. And that notebook. And the other one- no wait, you need it for transferring assignments to your to-do list. Why are there so many gum wrappers on your desk?

No wait, Fnet- those gum wrappers have to go. In the kitchen, in the kitchen… Ah, water! Only now you realize how dry your tongue is. Obviously, water. What a silly thing to forget. You set the gum wrappers down and pour yourself a glass.

The water jug needs refilling. You turn the tap on and see the dishes in the sink. It’s filthy – and you hate washing dishes, but you know that you haven’t done much in the way of chores these past few days, so you know you should contribute somehow, and anyways you have this pressing, needling, restless urge to do anything other than what’s waiting for you when you get back. Which is- er, something. Doesn’t matter what – dishes now.

The dishes are done, and they rest sparkling clean on the drying rack. You smile at a job well done.

Alright, back to work. You exit the kitc- gum wrappers accuse you from the counter top.

Right.

Gum wrappers.

They go in the dustbin. You know if you tried separating them for recycling, you might spend another half hour here. Or had it been twenty minutes? You would check, but your watch is in the other room – which you need to go to, anyways.

Back at the desk. Three notebooks lie haphazardly stacked – one for writing, one an agenda, and one that tracks progress with stickers. There is one date written, and two stickers. The date is from last week.

You sit at your desk.

Fnet =

Fnet =

Fnet- Maybe you just need to change assignments. Something less daunting, like history or Spanish. Surely you can manage Spanish.

You open the assignment- ah yes. It’s missing. You feel a strange dread pool in your stomach, wrap around your throat. You close the assignment.

Back to physics then.

Fnet =

Fnet =

Rereading the problem. Springs… dropped from a height h… speed of the ball…

Fnet =

Fnet =

Fnet =

Fnet = Fs… no that can’t be, erase it.

Fnet =

The notebook cover catches your eye and you think of red hair.

You imagine red hair, and a girl named Emily. She is stubborn, and funny, and far, far away from here.

Ah, but what if she was… You spring to your feet senselessly. You pace unknowingly. You dream of a girl named Emily and fiction you will never write, and you think of praise you’ll never receive and a person you’ll never be, because there are still three notebooks at your desk, one unopened, one with endless work, and one with two stickers and a date from last week. Some progress.

You’re on the carpet now. You check your watch – 9:23 pm. You tilt your chin to the ceiling and sigh.

It’s fine, it’s fine, you just need some – motivation. Rah rah. Energy. Music. Music! You just need some music.

You open a video from a watch later list stuffed with ambience rooms. Elegant jazz, how nice. You close your eyes and imagine – ah, but this one has a better background. Click. Oh, it’s so pretty… there’s no music though. Hm.. Always by Erasure? Well now you have to play it. Oh, and Paisley Park! Add it to the queue. Oh and! Oh and! Oh and…

Every song is an opportunity to get motivated to do work, you tell yourself. You just can’t seem to take them. You avoid looking down at Fnet, and say it’s because you’re waiting for that spark.

You’re dancing when the door opens. Right, bedtime. Time to- bedtime?! You can’t believe it’s this – but you can, but you can, because it always is.

It’s fine. It’s fine. This is still salvageable. You’ll just have to make some sacrifices.

The crisp sound of opening a Celsius. You hope nobody heard, and hide it in your drawer.

There’s a picture of forest fruit on the can, but it doesn’t matter. They all taste the same: cough syrup and desperation.

Fnet =

F- let’s do another assignment, actually. Not Spanish, not spanish… history? You could manage history. At least this one isn’t missing.

Ten minutes of silence. Ten more minutes of silence, punctuated by typing and thoughtful pauses.

Tycoons like Carnegie invigorated the… No that’s not the right word. Motivated? Restructured? No, no – thesaurus.com. Ah thesaurus.com, your old frie- never mind, none of these words fit. Agh, what was the word? It was right at the forefront of your mind, you can feel it- ooh that’s a great sentence. Not for this assignment though. Instead for… you’re pacing again. Your mind somersaults through daydreams of dragons to more fantastical daydreams of admiration and praise. Of a person you could be proud of being. You smile a fool’s smile, and keep pacing.

Sitting on your bed brings you closer to your phone. First mistake. Or hundredth mistake. All the mistakes. They’re the only decisions you make, anymore.

You open it, and scroll.

Second mistake. You stop scrolling. Dread unfurls from where it slept in your stomach and seeps into your blood. You close your eyes, your face to the ceiling. Again.

Come on. One last go. Get up. The bed creaks under your weight.

The computer would have shown you a half-finished history assignment if it hadn’t been left untouched for so long that now it is dark. You click it back to life, and check the time.

2:43 am.

You stare at the screen, and it stares back at you, the black numbers converging into pixels of red and green as your vision blurs. You blink back the tears that are already coming. Too late. Too late, too late, too late…

A tear plops onto the desk, and you follow it with your gaze.

Fnet = .

Another tear falls, and you with it.

Crumpled on the floor, all out of motivation and stickers charts and hope, you whisper three words:

“I give up.”

Tomorrow you will do the same.

:end:

[cazort]

Ugh. Awful day. Six months ago my wife and I bought a washing machine and chose to buy a Speed Queen, which was much more expensive than most other brands, because it had a top-notch reputation and long warranty and we just didn't want to have to deal with breakdowns. This was a tough choice that we did not make lightly. Buying a house was a huge financial burden and my finances are now tighter than they've been in years, and the amount of money at stake matters. We were hoping to buy stability and leave us with one fewer thing to worry about during a stressful life transition.

Well a few days ago, it broke after 6 months, which is irritating enough, but the company has been hellish to deal with. They keep over-promising and under-delivering. Tuesday they said a local service company would reach out to schedule an appointment within 48 hours. Over 72 hours went by with no call. I called again today and the system said the wait time was 1 hour 6 minutes. This is literally the longest wait time I have ever had from any company. I put my number in the queue and they called me back...1 hour 50 minutes later.

The rep was barely helpful. She did not seem to understand the gravity or magnitude of the situation and spoke as if what happened to me was business-as-usual, rather than a rare, once-in-a-blue moon occurence that the company wanted to bend over backwards to fix. She tried calling the contractor and couldn't reach them. She did switch the ticket to a different contractor, who called me back later that afternoon, so now I have an appointment set up for next Thursday.

But I'm upset. I'm upset that I paid over twice the price for what I thought would be a premium product unlikely to break, and with a commitment to outstanding service, and instead I got a company that provides the longest hold times I have ever seen in my life, repeatedly makes promises it fails to deliver on, and reps that have no authority to escalate the issue or do anything to right the situation.

And I still don't know what is going to happen on Thursday. Will the contractor show up? Will they be able to fix it then and there, or will I have to wait days or weeks for a replacement part? Am I going to need to drag our laundry to the laundromat and incur additional costs doing so?

I have already filed a BBB complaint. I would like a partial rebate of the price I paid, because the value I have received is not worth what I paid for. I also am talking about my experience online.

Speed Queen has a top-tier reputation. They are a brand mainly used by laundromats, supposedly made to handle a heavy volume of use and last for many years. But the way they have treated me as a customer makes me feel like I've been cheated and would have done better buying a cheaper brand available at any box store.

I'm a reasonable person. I don't expect top-tier service if I buy a cheap, low-end product. I can even forgive mediocre service. But paying premium prices and then getting unspeakably bad service is just unconscionable to me.

If they had told me it might take a week to get contacted, I would be annoyed but it wouldn't be as bad as saying I would expect a call in a certain time frame and then have that call not come. And I might feel better if they did what most companies do, which is to at least apologize profusely and tell me they are really concerned with what is going on and escalate the situation. Like earlier this week I called my bank about something they messed up and the woman was like "Yeah you are right, the interface is actually really bad. I get why you are upset. We really need to improve that."

Like sometimes that's literally all it takes. Someone saying "Wow, we really messed up. I'm really sorry that sucks so much."

But no I didn't even get that.

And of course if this happens to me I'm gonna talk about it everywhere. So right now I am warning people about Speed Queen. They may have an amazing reputation but my experience with them so far has been awful.

[heresiae]

a while ago someone suggest to me to start reading the Percy Jackson books because I can't stand even the sight of Harry Potter's ones anymore (I'll give the Hogwarts' train Lego set I have been gifted a few years back to my baby cousin in a few weeks) and it's still bothering me because they were a huge part of my teens (started reading them at 14) and my comfort books (they have been ejected from my library together with her other books and I only have to find the will to fully separate myself from them, which is not frigging easy for a bookworm).

they're good. Rick Riordan knows how to write. I kind of miss reading the parts were Percy actually learn how to use his powers but I have to plan the start of a new book because, if I start too late, then it's a 2am bedtime for me (or a use of very strong will).

unfortunately, even if they're good, they will not do the trick of allowing my mind to completely substitute them (when something got integrate in your mind during your formative years, it stays there. not so much with late stuff). luckily though, I got back into Doctor Who a while back and that does the trick better. not when I'm in the mood for reading though (which is like... now. yes, I have my periods. tv shows period is over, it's book time. I guess the next one will be comic books or DIY).

maybe I should finish the Septimus Heap saga (that I started in Italian few years back but they didn't finish translating them, so I should started again in English, which I can do, but it bothers me because I'm an autistic mess xD).

I should also probably finally reading Our Dark Matters in English, the latest two books of Avatar or the 30+ books that are waiting to be read in my queue xD

[askew-ask-q]

Hiya Q!! Wholeroastpotion/Pixelselfships here, though you can call me Reffie or Reff if that's easier!! It's great to finally meet you in person 😊

I've heard a bit about you already from our mutual friend Slep, but I'm still curious! What kind of things do you sell/do at your shop? Are there lots of folks who still buy stationary, even in a digital world? I love writing, it's my biggest passion in life, so you can count me interested in any nice notebooks and pens you may have! Any suggestions? :3

The shop you've entered is quiet, aside from the melodic humming Queue was emitting. The store had just opened after all, and the air was calm with a feint smell of laminated sheets and coffee. The Addison's heterochromatic eyes seem to brighten once you enter, the quiet bell chiming above the door to announce your arrival. Queue remains in a calm lean on the counter but smiles pleasantly as you introduce yourself, waiting patiently as you speak before its eyes soften and it interlocks it's fingers together as it smiles at you "Well firstly, allow me to offically say "hello there", and let me tell you, you are just as delightful as Slep has decribed!"

"I had heard a few things about you as well Reffie, but I had never considered it went both ways.. what a way to warm my cheeks," it chuckles, a pink glow blooming under its glasses before it smiles charmingly, "Everything they said was good, I hope?"

"Now to answer your question, I think you better ask what don't I sell?" it chuckles quietly, straightening up and motioning behind itself. "Why, just here behind me I've more than enough supplies to help another person start their own shop! Staplers, tape dispensers, various types of glue, sticky notes, pens, pencils, calculators.." it rambles, though it is forced to take a breath at the end due to the length of the sentance. "Sometimes the variety gets a bit overwhelming when restocking, but it's good for buisness and it feel strangely euphoric to open a new box filled with supplies."

"Speaking of restocking, my work here is mostly being able to offer anything to anyone." It shifts in it's place slightly, leaning on the counter once more to make itself appear less tall before proceeding "I have a routine for every day, which usually begins with the digital inquiries: replying to any messages, preparing orders to send off, answering questions people may have. After all the digital work it's time for physical work, which I am usually able to breeze through fairly easily, since I have a list to organize stock and restock the shelves easily." Its speech so far was calm, and nonchalant as it explains everything, but it visibly livens up and grins at you as it leans in closer "And once that is all complete it's time for my favorite part: actually opening the store. I can sell all the items, hand over parcels to people who pick them up in person, prepare ink samples for various pens and paints.. A lot of small work to keep me busy."

"You are correct, there aren't that many customers, but I adore the ones that come by often. It feels special to see the artistic souls come back for another set of pencils, to see the same child stop by for another pack of colored origami paper, and the one person that comes here to bind books every week always brings a smile to my face.. I adore all my visitors, no matter how few or many there are," it proclaims in an almost proud manner, gifting you a close-eyed smile.

"And as for your request, I'm certain we can find something to your liking! Forgive me if I get into my "buisness mode", but is there a certain type of pen you were looking for?" it murmurs and slowly but happily proceeds to ask further about your preferences. "I have all sorts of types, from fountain to gel to ballpoint. Perhaps I could even interest you in an ergonomic pen so you may write with utmost confort?"

It sighs and shakes its head with a smile "Oh silly me, here, I think we'll solve this faster if we do this. I feel you would appreciate a nice purple pen, so I must ask you to take these and try writing here on this page. Since it is your first time here, I'll let you take whichever speaks to you most for free," it smiles charmingly and hands you an A5 paper page to write on, along with a selection of pens before resting its head on its hand and observing with a gentle smile. "I'll even give you a bonus correction fluid if you decide to buy a notebook to go along with it."

₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎

[2dkapsddr]

October 20th, 2024 - CHUNITHM SUN, ProSeka, maimai BUDDiES PLUS, Arcaea, Rhythm Heaven

iiit's that time of (bi)week again!!!! i know, i know, i already went yesterday and had no business going to an arcade Again for such a long time . but like, cmon, it was all the games that i hadn't had the chance to play at all in the past two weeks!!! i NEEDED to check it out!!! and so, with some notes taken and breakfast picked up from somewhere entirely different, i pulled up to the ultimate gamer zone and GAMED . i unfortunately(?) didn't play as much chunithm as i'd expected to play (though i've already played a ton in the past tbf), but i got a nice FC on JET [ULTIMA 13+] (even though it was a downscore) and also got this pretty clean good score on NEO [Append Lv.32] before it was time for the main stage to take over...

this main stage i'm talking about? why, it's none other than MAIMAI DX!!!! been ages since i got to play, and i even purposefully showed up early to skip the line and get some more action on the cab more consistently... and that's exactly what happened!!! line was short, track count was still pretty small, but the banger plays began from set one... with a sightread FC on Hatsune Miku no Gekishou [EXPERT Lv.12]!!!! i followed it right up with a very good(?) score on Rhythm Sense Test [MASTER Lv.12], but right after that came a very rocky and demotivating chain of scores with super complex charts where i had no idea what i was doing half the time... i should probably expect this given it's maimai -- a game i have no consistent access to and no way to practice at home -- but as good of a rank as AA is in BEMANI games like beatmania IIDX, they felt like ultra disappointing results here in maimai...

took a break from the action to do some arcaea community server challenges on my phone in the maimai queue... they're not very impressive scores (not even upscores, for that matter), but gotta include them for the sake of the account purpose regardless!

kicked off maimai time once again, where the track limit was upped to 3 as the line was way shorter than expected!!! the poor plays didn't stop there though, and i was once again subject to the horrors and struggles of maimai master tech that i just couldn't comprehend... until something incredible happened!! i got an S+ on Liar Dancer [EXPERT Lv.10+]!! and i had INSANE fun dancing along to the BGA!!! i think that alone kickstarted something inside me, as my inner rhythm gaming demon felt like it kicked in and started actually giving me good scores like never before!!! i couldn't believe it... even besides the scores, i was actually reading and executing the tech properly and getting better!!!!!! i even reached 7k rating (red border) thanks to a 96% AAA on INTERNET YAMERO [MASTER Lv.11+]!!!!!!! ...ignore that Slow-downer score though, that one was rough,,,,

switched to Rhythm Heaven AC while taking a break and doing some homework!! i may or may not be cracked at it... not really actually, but two perfects ain't that bad !

continued with a few more final sets of maimai before i had to go since i was starving and there was no food available... the scores you're seeing are fairly rocky and inconsistent, but TO BE FAIR: the first song's chart was quite bad #tbh . no matter though, because right before i had to go... i made up for it with all the banger scores on my last set!!! like that SS+ on Odo [MASTER Lv.11], S+ on HANIPAGANDA [EXPERT Lv.11], and an insane(ly fun) sightread AAA on Seishun Complex [MASTER Lv.11+]!!!! lost more charts i can practice and upscore the next time i come... excited to see what my futuremai holds for me!!!!!! 'til next time though, i'll keep training everywhere else!!!!

[subliminalbointext]

One Shot #4: The Instrument and the Maestro

Standing on the stage before thousands of raucous fans chanting her name, Amelia clenched the microphone tight to her chest. She wished that she could just live in that moment forever. Wembley was the kind of venue that musicians worked their lives to book but Amelia was only twenty-four. She exhaled. What was next? Her rags-to-riches story had captivated the world. Raised by a single mother in Brooklyn, discovered by her producer. Jack, at a community talent show. Everything else felt like a dream. Her entire career was a haze from which she could pull few distinct memories as her life moved at a thousand miles an hour. Last week she was sixteen, yesterday she was twenty.

All Amelia really knew standing on that stage was that she deserved it. Her voice had always had a way with fans. Jack called it a gift. Their partnership had made her the most profitable solo act in the business. Her albums were often criticized for a lack of risk. There were plenty of takes from Twitter critics about Amelia’s early work and her potential to be more than a popstar. It was true that before her partnership with Jack, Amelia had ambitions beyond pop stardom. She wanted to write and compose her own music, but Jack knew the business and a lack of freedom was the price all successful artists had to pay. Of course the negative reviews never stopped her singles from reaching number one on the pop charts. Even when people loathed Amelia, they still couldn’t stop listening.

Amelia closed her eyes as the booming synth began to drone behind her. Time was picking up again. And when she opened her mouth and began to sing and her audience disappeared into the hypnotic lyrics of her song, Amelia too began to sink into a familiar trance.

Shortly after the Wembley show, Amelia met in the park for lunch with Jack and demanded to be released from her contract. Jack, surprised and smiling, reminded her that she was at the peak of her career. “You just played Wembley, why on earth would you want anything else?”

“I know Jack,” Amelia sighed. “Wembley was great, you’re great. But it’s not about the money or the fame anymore. I want to make my own art. Like I used to.”

“Of course,” Jack nodded. “And I let you write a song for Siren.”

Siren was the title of Amelia’s upcoming album.

“No one should let me do anything. I was fine on my own.”

“You were making low quality videos on Youtube. Supporting your mom on Patreon.”

“But I had integrity.”

For the first time, Jack frowned. “You know I only care about what’s best for you. Are you absolutely certain about this, Amelia?”

Amelia shook her head. “When I was up there that night, surrounded by a hundred thousand fans, I…couldn’t breathe. It was both so happy and so sad. Because I knew that no matter what I could never top that moment. Do you know what that feels like, Jack?”

Jack offered a sympathetic nod and said, “I just make the music.”

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Amelia whispered. “But I can’t do this anymore.”

Jack nodded. Amelia dropped her half-eaten salad into its bag, collected her things, and began to walk away. She heaved a sigh, heavy with both grief and optimism.

Jack, on the other hand, remained seated at the picnic table and calmly pulled out his cellphone. He slowly flipped through his contacts until he found Amelia and dialed. He admired the young starlet as she strutted confidently away. On queue, her phone began to ring, but as she pulled it from her purse, it slipped from her hand and landed uselessly in the grass.

“What…” Amelia mumbled as she stumbled on her feet. The sound of her own music playing back to her, pulling her down, deep into the same trance she’d grown used to performing under.

The trance was Amelia’s true trademark, one of the things that set her apart from the other young twentysomethings trying to make it big in the music industry. Amelia had become known for her wild performances in which she lost herself in her own music. She’d admitted in interviews that she often lost track of time during her shows, a phenomenon that even her fans shared in. Many critics credited the trance to Amelia’s perfectionism and showmanship.

When Jack approached Amelia, she’d dropped to her knees in submission.

Jack had been a gifted composer his entire life, but he couldn’t perform for shit. That was how he got into producing. But after an initial series of failed attempts to break into the industry, he’d taken a chance on a young girl from Brooklyn. With Jack’s hypnotic tunes and Amelia’s natural talent, they could truly rule the world.

The musician looked up at her producer with those innocent, empty eyes.

“Amelia,” Jack sighed. “You’ve gotta stop doing this.”

“I am sorry,” she said.

“What did I say last time?” he asked.

“I am the instrument and you are the maestro.”

Jack nodded. “You don’t want to work without me.”

“I could never work without you,” Amelia echoed.

“You’re powerless without me,” he added.

“I am your siren.”

Jack placed his warm hand on her soft chin and studied her, checking for any sign rogue disobedience. One again pleased with his work he said, “Let’s get back to the studio now. Especially before some paparazzo spots us.”

[subliminalbo]

One Shot #4: The Instrument and the Maestro

Standing on the stage before thousands of raucous fans chanting her name, Amelia clenched the microphone tight to her chest. She wished that she could just live in that moment forever. Wembley was the kind of venue that musicians worked their lives to book but Amelia was only twenty-four. She exhaled. What was next? Her rags-to-riches story had captivated the world. Raised by a single mother in Brooklyn, discovered by her producer. Jack, at a community talent show. Everything else felt like a dream. Her entire career was a haze from which she could pull few distinct memories as her life moved at a thousand miles an hour. Last week she was sixteen, yesterday she was twenty.

All Amelia really knew standing on that stage was that she deserved it. Her voice had always had a way with fans. Jack called it a gift. Their partnership had made her the most profitable solo act in the business. Her albums were often criticized for a lack of risk. There were plenty of takes from Twitter critics about Amelia's early work and her potential to be more than a popstar. It was true that before her partnership with Jack, Amelia had ambitions beyond pop stardom. She wanted to write and compose her own music, but Jack knew the business and a lack of freedom was the price all successful artists had to pay. Of course the negative reviews never stopped her singles from reaching number one on the pop charts. Even when people loathed Amelia, they still couldn't stop listening.

Amelia closed her eyes as the booming synth began to drone behind her. Time was picking up again. And when she opened her mouth and began to sing and her audience disappeared into the hypnotic lyrics of her song, Amelia too began to sink into a familiar trance.

Shortly after the Wembley show, Amelia met in the park for lunch with Jack and demanded to be released from her contract. Jack, surprised and smiling, reminded her that she was at the peak of her career. "You just played Wembley, why on earth would you want anything else?"

"I know Jack," Amelia sighed. "Wembley was great, you're great. But it's not about the money or the fame anymore. I want to make my own art. Like I used to."

"Of course," Jack nodded. "And I let you write a song for Siren."

Siren was the title of Amelia's upcoming album.

"No one should let me do anything. I was fine on my own."

"You were making low quality videos on Youtube. Supporting your mom on Patreon."

"But I had integrity."

For the first time, Jack frowned. "You know I only care about what's best for you. Are you absolutely certain about this, Amelia?"

Amelia shook her head. "When I was up there that night, surrounded by a hundred thousand fans, I...couldn't breathe. It was both so happy and so sad. Because I knew that no matter what I could never top that moment. Do you know what that feels like, Jack?"

Jack offered a sympathetic nod and said, "I just make the music."

"I'm sorry, Jack," Amelia whispered. "But I can't do this anymore."

Jack nodded. Amelia dropped her half-eaten salad into its bag, collected her things, and began to walk away. She heaved a sigh, heavy with both grief and optimism.

Jack, on the other hand, remained seated at the picnic table and calmly pulled out his cellphone. He slowly flipped through his contacts until he found Amelia and dialed. He admired the young starlet as she strutted confidently away. On queue, her phone began to ring, but as she pulled it from her purse, it slipped from her hand and landed uselessly in the grass.

"What..." Amelia mumbled as she stumbled on her feet. The sound of her own music playing back to her, pulling her down, deep into the same trance she'd grown used to performing under.

The trance was Amelia's true trademark, one of the things that set her apart from the other young twentysomethings trying to make it big in the music industry. Amelia had become known for her wild performances in which she lost herself in her own music. She'd admitted in interviews that she often lost track of time during her shows, a phenomenon that even her fans shared in. Many critics credited the trance to Amelia's perfectionism and showmanship.

When Jack approached Amelia, she'd dropped to her knees in submission.

Jack had been a gifted composer his entire life, but he couldn't perform for shit. That was how he got into producing. But after an initial series of failed attempts to break into the industry, he'd taken a chance on a young girl from Brooklyn. With Jack's hypnotic tunes and Amelia's natural talent, they could truly rule the world.

The musician looked up at her producer with those innocent, empty eyes.

"Amelia," Jack sighed. "You've gotta stop doing this."

"I am sorry," she said.

"What did I say last time?" he asked.

"I am the instrument and you are the maestro."

Jack nodded. "You don't want to work without me."

"I could never work without you," Amelia echoed.

"You're powerless without me," he added.

"I am your siren."

Jack placed his warm hand on her soft chin and studied her, checking for any sign rogue disobedience. One again pleased with his work he said, "Let's get back to the studio now. Especially before some paparazzo spots us."

[smallestapplin]

so i had this funny idea floating in my head for a little while lol.

warden ingo sees the new sky person and just instantly falls inlove with them. but wat he dosent know is its his S/O whos been looking for him for a few years. however his s/o has been so busy with the pokedex that they havent had much time to spend with him, and when they do its not very much. one day while staying with the new sky person at their place he decides to confess his feelings only for them to laugh and be like “ingo, were married”

queue the water works and a surprised pikachu face. his s/o finally gets to explain who they are and where hes from. now he just feels silly and embarrassed but his s/o just thinks it was the cutest thing ever.

Ayo👀👀

Asks are open

-

-

Warden Ingo has the same routine day in and day out, but something always felt missing, this something keeps him up at night.

It’s like his futon is too big no matter how small it is, so he usually ends up sleep in Lady Sneasler’s den with her kits.

Even then he still feels lonely, no matter who he is around he feels like he is alone. He can’t recall how long he has been in Hisui anymore as days, weeks, and months blend and blur together.

Then he got orders from Irida to help the new sky fallen stranger.

He didn’t mean to almost run into you but he is glad he did. He froze up looking at you, his heart screaming in joy but he was confused as to why.

You looked at him that day in shock and disbelief, then it morphed into confusion.

“Hello! The commander his informed me he’d like you in his office.”

And he was quick to take off to the training grounds to still his beating heart.

Since then he can’t help but want to be around you, he is in love but he is scared at how quickly he fell for you. Just walking around the cave guiding you, while his head hurt from all the thinking of what memories he could recall, your presence lessened it.

You seemed to always push his memory in the right direction or you’d mention something that made his eyes light up.

Unova sounds so familiar, and you said you’re from there, there has to be something he isn’t getting!

You two spent so much time together. Time he cherished.

But one day you looked at your odd device, an ‘Arcphone’ you said it was.

Your contentment was quickly snuffed out when you looks at it, placing it back into your pocket and you left.

“Sorry to cut on usual hang outs short Ingo, I need to complete the pokedex, I’ll try and visit as often as I can.”

And you were gone.

Sometimes he didn’t see you for weeks, other times he’d only get thirty minutes with you and you’d be gone.

You absents left a hold in his heart, he desperately wants you by his side again, he feels more isolated than before.

He made up his mind, he is going to confess his love for you!

For a week he stay in Jubilife at the training grounds waiting for you, he figured he’d let you set a time and he’d confess then.

And it worked!

“Hey Ingo! Awfully late for you to be at the training grounds here, what’s up?”

“Oh has it already gotten that late? My apologies I didn’t even notice.” He has been so lost in thought about what he’d even say he didn’t notice night had fallen.

“Well it’s too late for you to go back to the highlands, come on, you can rest at my place.” You motion him to follow you.

“Oh I don’t wish to impose-“

“Come on Ingo.”

“Of course.”

He knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer on this.

Once at your house and taking off his shoes at the door he sat on the cushion.

“Are you hungry at all? I can make something for us.” You offer already up and ready to make something.

“Oh no thank you, ate earlier.”

You stare at him.

“I ate a few berries and Zisu forced me to take a lunch break, so I also made and ate some soup, I made sure to do so in case you stopped by, you get upset with me when I don’t eat.” He chuckles at your flushed but relived face.

You sit back down “good! You need to take care of yourself, I…well we all worry for you.”

Ingo feels his heart beating quickly, you care for him, you worry for him, he can’t take it anymore.

“If I may be so bold, may I confess something?” He takes his hat off and rests it against his chest, almost in a form of comfort.

“Oh, sure I don’t mind,” you warm smile makes him blush.

Looking away for a moment before taking a deep breathe, he can do this.

“I wish to tell you I’m in love with you, I realized I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore in our time apart, I want to spend all my time with you, you are always at the forefront of my mind, please, allow me to court you.”

His face grew redder with each word, he looks down now wanting to meet you eyes, afraid you’ll see his fear of rejection.

His heart sinks at the sound of your laughter, it didn’t sound mocking but it hurt.

“Oh Ingo! You don’t have to, we are married, you are way passed the courting phase!” You try to tone down you laughter but it only gets louder at the look on his face.

His embarrassed expression made this all the cuter! To think your husband fell right back in love with you.

His head had snapped up at you, eyes wide and mouth agape. You take your gloves off your left hand and show him your ring.

“In our time we commonly use rings to show our commitment, you bought me this ring and gave it to me on our wedding day, when you went missing I was frantic, I spent two years looking you for, we never gave up hope.”

Your voice breaks and you try to blink away tears.

“When I saw you here I was so excited but you didn’t remember me, I didn’t want you to think I was crazy by suddenly hugging you and claiming to be your spouse when you obviously had no idea.”

You gently cup his face with your left hand “I’m just happy you’re alive, that’s all I ever wanted to know.”

Ingo places his hand onto of yours, nuzzling into it. How had he not noticed? Your ring matches his perfectly!

With his free hand he reaches into his shirt and pulls out the matching ring.

“I made it into a necklace so I wouldn’t lose it, everyday I looked at handheld it wondering why it held such value to me, now I know, I’m so sorry.”

You shush him and pull him into a hug as he cries onto your shoulder. His arms are tightly around you.

“It’s not your fault Ingo, I would wait a life time for you.”

You two held each other crying. He felt awful he forgot his spouse, but it explains how at first glance he fell in love with you all over again.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me Ingo, you’re my husband, I swore to stand by you and I will continue to do so.”

“Can you tell me what I’m missing then?”

“Of course.”

More tears were shed when he started putting pieces together. Leaving behind a twin brother whom you also seemed worried about but didn’t tell him why.

He doesn’t need to know how much of a mess Emmet is, you’re worried that it’ll be twice as bad with your own disappearance. You two were each other’s rock when Ingo vanished.

“So the purple flames?”

“That would be your partner Pokémon, a Chandelure that you named wickie, you got them when you were ten so be easy on yourself with the name.”

It was so weird to be learning facts about himself, some memories clicked while others didn’t, it would take time but you promised him you two would be able to go back soon.

Garitina has already faced your wrath.

Arceus is next.