#sorry for all the tags i want this to reach people

[sailorsoons]

Santa Baby (j.ww)

PAIRING: Wonwoo x reader

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend is stuck working on Christmas Eve in hell on earth. You decide to pay him a little visit to cheer him up - and give yourself a good laugh. 

WC: 1,400

AU: Established Relationship 

GENRE:  Fluff, Humor

RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

WARNINGS: Cranky reader, children slander because the author (me) is a childless wench, some light suggestive talk at the end, explicit language, a single chaste kiss. 

A/N: This was originally a request for @kkaetnipjeon on my sailorrhansol blog before my blog was shot in cold blood. So now I'm posting a Christmas drabble in the middle of February :)

A/N 2: This is not beta read - I just used spell check because I am ungovernable. 

MAIN MASTERLIST | PERMANENT TAG LIST | ASK

Christmas Eve at the mall should be illegal. It’s most certainly a hazard to your health as yet another family bumps into you with their handful of demons - children - nearly knocking you into the swing sign at Victoria Secret telling you to buy something so someone could unwrap you. 

You would love for someone to be unwrapping you right now in the warmth of your home in the sheets that smell like laundry detergent and spicy cologne. The man who would do the unwrapping, however, is currently only available to the population of the world’s most hellish mall. 

Which is why you’re in said hellish mall in the first place. 

Christmas music blares over the speakers of the mall. The smell of grease and the distinct scent of cheese drifts from the food court. Your stomach rumbles, not for the burnt taste of Sbarro pizza but at the thought of going home and finally digging into a proper meal. 

That will have to wait, though. 

Smack in the center of the mall is a towering platform decorated like a winter wonderland. Occasionally, a snowblower from somewhere on the second floor shoots out foam, turning it into the North Pole proper. It earns a combination of screaming in delight and terror from the mostly-kid population waiting in line to walk up the metal catwalk to the top of the winter wonderland where Santa is waiting for them. 

Sighing, you get in line, by-stepping a little girl covered in sticky candy cane residue as she runs from her mother, tears streaming down her face while screaming she doesn’t want a picture with tanta. Well, you’re not sure who tanta is but you can’t blame her, looking at your watch to see it’s nearly eight o'clock at night. 

The line moves sluggishly slow. You shift back and forth on your feet, scrolling mindlessly through social media. The mother in front of you accidentally knocks your phone with her purse as she shifts one of her screaming children from one arm to the next.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, bouncing the baby in an attempt to soothe him. You wince. You get it - she doesn’t have it easy. “And sorry for his screaming.”

“That’s okay, I think it’s a requirement for kids to scream during the holidays. It’s like an instinct.” 

She laughs. “Is this one yours?” 

You look to where she’s pointing. There’s a child standing next to you with snot running down his nose and a grinch t-shirt on with several questionable stains. He looks up at you with big brown eyes, blinking and asking, “Dada?” 

“No, definitely not.” You point to the father swiftly coming over to scoop the child, an apologetic look on his face. “That’s dada, buddy.” 

“Dada,” the kid agrees, turning to reach his arms up as he’s scooped up and taken away from the line. 

“Oh.” The woman in front of you frowns. “No kids? Just here to see Santa yourself?” 

“Yes. I want to ask him to destroy all the Cybertrucks.” 

“Oh.” End of conversation. 

One less friend and an infinite amount of line to go, you flip through your work emails, cringing to see how many people think it’s appropriate to send you emails on Christmas Eve. Don’t they know you have a line to stand in for forty five minutes? 

You think about asking Santa to send all your coworkers away like Kevin on Home Alone, but realize you’d still be expected to take on all their work. Maybe you should ask for the destruction of capitalism. That seems like a world-wide benefit. 

Finally, the line moves forward significantly. The metal catwalk twangs underneath your boots. You lean on the greasy rail, listening to the musical styling of Mariah Carey as she earns yet another number on her paycheck as foam snow blows overhead. 

In a weird way, it’s not terrible. You look around, drinking in the miserable families just trying to take a last second holiday photo, late shoppers scrambling to get the last of their presents before tomorrow morning, the kitschy decorations making up the mountain with Sana’s chair somewhere at the top. 

You grin, feeling a sense of nostalgia as the line moves forward again. It might be an annoying way to spend your evening, but there’s no denying there’s a bit of magic in the air, even for capitalism Christmas. And Sbarro pizza. 

Finally, you near the top landing. There are elf workers helping take photos and managing the line while Santa sits on a gold chair with velvet cushions. His robes are equally as red, nearly blending in with the seat save for the white beard and hair and the slightly askew glasses as the little kid in his lap knocks him in the head. 

Coughing to disguise your laughter, you watch as Santa delicately removes the child from his lap and gives a hoarse ho ho ho before sighing and readjusting to accept the next family. He doesn’t see you in line, entirely focused on lifting up the little tyke in front of him into his lap to ask what he wants for Christmas.

The teenage elf working the line looks you up and down, raising her brow as she chews her gum. “How many?” 

“Just me.”

“Oh. Ummm. Alright I guess. You get five minutes with Santa. Please don’t go over time. Your photos will be available at the kiosk downstairs. Take this ticket and they’ll print them.�� 

You take the piece of paper from her. “How much are photos?” 

“Fifty bucks.”

“Jesus Christ, do I get to kiss him on the mouth too? Why is it so expensive?” 

She stares at you before turning over her shoulder to see the family leaving. “I don’t make the prices. Your turn - and don’t kiss Santa on the mouth.”

Shoving the ticket in your pocket, you mutter under your breath that you can actually kiss this specific Santa all you want. The Santa in question turns to greet you, halfway through his greeting when he sputters,” Ho-ho- holy shit what are you doing here?” 

“Wow, what terrible language, Santa Baby.” You grin, plopping yourself on his lap. Wonwoo nearly drops you as you do, but he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight. “You smell like cheese.” 

“It’s the food court,” he mutters. “It won’t leave me, I swear.” 

“Gross.” You adjust his glasses, heart fluttering. “You look cute.” 

He does, in a weird way. Not because the giant suit and the beard and the hair are flattering, but because you know it’s Wonwoo underneath it all. Wonwoo who somehow got roped into covering for Mingyu as a mall Santa for the evening, Wonwoo who is a little bit overwhelmed by kids but eager to make them laugh anyway, Wonwoo whose grip tightens on you a little, eyes sparkling at your arrival. 

“Do I?” 

“No, but I like you anyway.” 

“Alright, pose with Santa,” the photographer says. 

Both of you ignore him as Wonwoo laughs. “So,” he hums. “Have you been naughty or nice?” 

“Well, I drove an hour in traffic to come to this shitty mall and then fight for parking for another forty-five, got run into by a bunch of families, stood in line and got called dada or mama like four times, all to come see my boyfriend and make his night a little better.”

“Got it. Nice list.” 

You brush stray white hair from his beard. “Definitely nice list.” 

“Thanks for coming to see me.” He hugs you a little closer, softening. “It’s really sweet of you. I’m off in an hour.”

“Good. I’m hungry and I want to watch The Muppets Christmas Carol with my own personal Santa Baby.” 

“Is that what’s on your Christmas list?” 

“Yes. And for all the Cybertrucks to be destroyed.”

His laugh is jovial. You think Wonwoo’s laugh outranks Santa any day, full-bellied and cute. You feel your affection swell, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his lips despite the teenage elf telling you not too. Too bad she doesn’t decide if you get to kiss your boyfriend or not. 

“Hey!” She yells behind you. “I told you not to kiss Santa!”

“I’ve gotta go,” you laugh. “I think I just made the naughty list.” 

“I’ll see you at home?”

“Mhmm.” You think of the Victoria Secret sale sign. “Come unwrap me.” 

PERMANENT TAG LIST

@ddaddunugu @ourkivee @tie-nn @thesunsfullmoon @stray-bi-kids @ldysmfrst @thepoopdokyeomtouched @eoieopda @onlywon4u @hopeless-foolery @iamawkwardandshy @gyuguys @codeinebelle @ateez-atiny380 @bultaereume @yoongznme @kaitieskidmore97 @coffee-addict-kitten @gyubakeries @archivistworld @asyre @kaepjjangiya @fancypeacepersona @beckyloveshannie @imujings @do-you-remember-summer-127 @jbluen @mingumis @kimsaerom @imlonelydontsendhelp @eunyi @smiileflower

[eliciana]

Reverse SAGAU: The Weird Door At My Café

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 (here) | ...

Masterlist

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Tw: Reverse!Isekai!Sagau, Normal Au, Café Au.

Reader: Gn!Reader, Adult!Reader, Cafe Owner!Reader

Characters: Reader, Traveler, Paimon

Note: Restaurant to Another World animanga inspired au. There is a taglist if you want to be tagged.

I am also sorry about the sudden disappearance guys. I fell down the stairs and somehow got into a coma. I fear that this is because of the AO3 curse bcs I was going to publish one of my works there so uhh ig I won't now bcs of what happened. Sorry about that guys. I woke up a week ago and I'm now a-okay. }

As a compensation, I am planning to release 3-4 chapters after this week :)

____________________________________

Its been 2 weeks since the Traveler and Paimon had known about the existence of your otherworldy café, and within that time period, you guys have learned that the door only appears on Teyvat at weekedays. Both of them were devastated at the news. Literally. They spent their whole weekdays with you, they were pouting and whining at how they won't be able to talk to you much more or taste your meals, pastry, and refreshments though, the complaints mostly came from Paimon.

Their sincere sadness, pouts, and sorrowful eyes tugged at your heartstrings, evoking strong sympathy for both of them. They seem to clearly love your creations far more than anything they could prepare or purchase for themselves, so you made up your mind to surprise them for their lovely company and advices in making much more better food. You put your very heart and soul into making something special for your dearly beloved friends, hoping that they won't look so down as much as before when it is time for them to say goodbye.

You were so absorbed in organizing and preparing your suprise that the weekend almost passed you by. You looked at the old ticking clock besise the cashier register and saw that it was 6:55 pm, which was only a few minutes before your scheduled meeting time. You hastily cleaned up after hiding the suprise somewhere they can't quite see. You didn't want any people to recognize them because it would cause tons of trouble not only for you but for Traveller and Paimon as well. So you decided to meet up every 7:00 pm after you close for the day.

At exactly when the clock struck 7:00 pm the door you were once so afraid opened, the soft chime of the bell announced the arrival of your guests. Clearing your throat, you called out cheerfully, 'Welcome, dear customers! Feel free to sit anywhere you like!' The sound of the Traveller’s soft giggles reached your ears, and you turned to greet them with a warm smile. 'Hello, Boss!' they responded in unison, their familiar voices filling the room with an air of comfort and familiarity.

"(Reader)!!!!", Paimon exclaimed, twirling around you like an excited cat seeing its owner after a long time of absence. Though, instead of nearly tripping over her, you found yourself feeling quite a bit dizzy with her rapid spins round you. Thankfully, the Traveller noticed and swiftly grabbed Paimon by the collar of her clothing. "GAAHHH!", she yelped, her playful demeanor momentarily interrupted. "Could you stop spinning around (Reader) for a moment? They're getting quite a bit dizzy with your twirls." the Traveller gently scolded her, a hint of amusement in their voice.

“Hehe, it’s okay! But, Paimon, could you keep your spinning to a minimum? I won’t be able to greet you properly if I suddenly pass out from all the dizziness,” you teased, a playful smile on your face. Paimon’s expression shifted to one of shock. “NOOO! (Reader)! You still need to make me delicious foodddd!” she exclaimed, kicking her feet in the air as if throwing a tantrum. “Come on, Paimon. (Reader)’s just joking with you,” the Traveller said with a sigh, rolling their eyes at Paimon’s dramatic antics.

“Now, let’s settle down, shall we? I have a new item on the menu today. Would you like to give it a try? Here it is; you can read the description and decide if you want to sample it,” you said, handing them two menus. Paimon scrutinized the menu intently before shouting, “The same as usual, (Reader)! And also, one order of the new item!”

The Traveller smiled and added, “I’ll have one Cheesy Tortellini and Sausage Bake, one Creamy Chicken and Rice Soup, and one Iced Pumpkin Cream Chai.”

“Oh my! That’s quite a feast! Rough day?” you asked, taking notes of their orders. “I’ll make sure to throw in some extras for you.”

"*Sigh*, yes. It was a really rough day. *mumble**mumble*." You couldn't quite pick up what they said after but it seems that they truly had a real hard time judging by their deep sigh and slumped shoulders.

You went straight to the kitchen to whip up their orders while you kept a close eye on the suprise that you still kept hidden.

After a flurry of activity in the kitchen, you finally finished preparing their orders. With a warm smile, you approached the table, balancing the plates with practiced ease. "Alright, you two, no more frowning," you chided playfully, setting the dishes down one by one. "Dig in! You must be starving by now."

As you arranged the plates, you added with a wink, "Oh, and I threw in some Strawberry Creampuffs—compliments of the house. Consider it a little treat for my favorite duo."

Paimon's eyes widened to the size of saucers, her tiny hands already reaching for the pastries before you could even finish speaking. "Wait, for free?! (Reader), you're the best!" she squealed, clutching a creampuff like it was a treasure. She took a bite, and her face lit up with pure delight. "Mmm! These are heavenly! Paimon could eat a hundred of these!" She floated in the air, twirling with joy, her excitement infectious.

The Traveler chuckled softly, shaking their head at Paimon's antics. "Thank you, (Reader). You really didn’t have to, but we appreciate it." They picked up a creampuff, their expression softening as they took a bite. "These are amazing. You’ve outdone yourself again."

You leaned against the table, watching them enjoy the food with a satisfied grin. Seeing their smiles was always worth the effort.

"Alright, alright, take your time eating," you said with a soft chuckle, stepping back from the table. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything." With a warm smile, you turned and made your way to the back, your mind already buzzing with excitement.

You had a surprise for them—a special thank-you gift. Since the door doesn't appear on the weekends, you’d spent the last few days preparing an extravagant feast. It was your way of showing gratitude for their constant companionship and the joy they brought into your life. The portions were enormous, enough to last them for days—or, knowing Paimon, maybe just one. You smirked to yourself, wondering how they’d even carry it all. But then again, the Traveler’s magical inventory space was a blessing in disguise, so you’d gone all out without a second thought.

Your café had been thriving lately, with a steady stream of wealthy customers placing large commission orders. The influx of money was more than welcome, though the workload was starting to wear on you. Juggling the demands of your high-profile clients and the everyday crowd was exhausting. Maybe it was time to hire some help. The idea struck you like a bolt of inspiration, and you quickly pulled out your phone to jot it down in your notes. Hire workers. Soon. 3 workers perhaps.

But for now, your focus was on the present—literally. You glanced at the array of pastries you’d set aside earlier. Paimon’s delighted squeals from the dining area echoed in your mind, and you couldn’t help but smile. Why not add a little more? You had plenty of leftovers from today, and serving them tomorrow didn’t sit right with you. Giving them to the Traveler and Paimon was a far better option than tossing them out. Besides, their magical inventory would keep everything fresh indefinitely.

With that decided, you grabbed a large container and began filling it with an assortment of treats. A half Greek Yogurt Tangerine Cake, eclairs, chou à la crème, flan, lemon tarts, and egg tarts—each one carefully placed inside. The container was soon overflowing with a colorful variety of pastries, each one a testament to your hard work and creativity. You left a little bit to yourself to eat at home later as a good job treat.

You stepped back, admiring your handiwork. This was more than just food; it was a token of your friendship, a way to say thank you in the sweetest way possible.

Stepping back into the dining area, you found the duo slumped in their seats, looking thoroughly satisfied—and perhaps a little too full. Their slightly bloated appearances were hard to miss, and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Oh deary me, you two look like you’ve been through a feast fit for a king!” you teased, walking over to clear the plates. As you picked them up, you noticed, not for the first time, that not a single crumb remained. It was impressive, though not as shocking as the first time you’d witnessed their bottomless appetites. Back then, you’d been utterly floored. Now, it was just another reminder of how much they adored your cooking.

The Traveler’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but they quickly recovered, flashing you a sheepish grin. “Well, what can we say? Your cooking is to die for, (Reader).” Their tone was smooth, almost suave, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at their attempt to save face.

“Thank you, Traveler,” you replied warmly, stacking the plates neatly. “Coming from you, that means a lot.”

Just then, the Traveler reached into their pocket and pulled out a small pouch, placing it on the table with a soft clink. “Oh, right! Here’s our payment. As always, it’s worth every mora.”

You picked up the pouch, feeling the satisfying weight of the mora inside. “Thank you, dear customer,” you said with a playful bow, tucking the pouch into your apron pocket. “Your patronage is always appreciated.”

“Oh, right! Stay there for a moment—don’t come into the kitchen,” you said, holding up a hand to stop them as you hurried back to the kitchen with the stack of plates. Paimon and the Traveler exchanged curious glances, their usual routine of following you to the front bar momentarily interrupted. Reluctantly, they took their usual seats, waiting patiently but with growing curiosity.

From the kitchen, they heard a faint grunt, followed by the sound of something heavy being shifted. Paimon’s ears perked up, and the Traveler leaned forward, concern flickering across their face. “(Reader), are you okay? Do you need help?” they called out, halfway out of their seats.

“No need, no need!” you replied, your voice slightly strained but cheerful. “This thing’s just a bit heavier than I expected, but I’ve got it under control!” Moments later, you emerged from the kitchen, carefully balancing two large, cloth-covered containers in your arms. You set them down gently on the counter in front of them, your face flushed but triumphant. “Wait, there’s still more. Don’t touch them yet!” you warned, holding up a finger before darting back into the kitchen.

When you returned, you were carrying yet another cloth-covered container—this one filled with the assortment of pastries you’d prepared earlier. Paimon’s eyes widened, and the Traveler tilted their head, their curiosity now fully piqued.

“(Reader), what are these? They smell amazing—and they look huge!” the Traveler asked, their voice tinged with awe.

With a dramatic flourish and a smug grin, you pulled the cloths away, revealing the contents. “Ta-da! This is my surprise gift for you! Are you shocked?” you announced, clearly pleased with yourself.

Paimon gasped, floating closer to inspect the containers. “Wait, these three ginormous things are for us? Paimon loves them already! But, uh… what exactly are they?” She scratched her head, her tiny face scrunched up in confusion.

You chuckled, crossing your arms as you leaned against the counter. “Well, since we can’t meet on weekends, I thought I’d send you off with enough food to last you a while. Consider it a thank-you for always keeping me company. There’s a bit of everything in there—main dishes, snacks, and, of course, plenty of pastries for someone with a particular sweet tooth.” You shot Paimon a knowing look, and she beamed, already reaching for one of the containers.

The Traveler’s eyes softened, a grateful smile spreading across their face. “(Reader), you really didn’t have to go through all this trouble… but thank you. This means a lot to us.”

“Nuh-uh!” you said sharply, your eyes narrowing as you caught the Traveler’s hand reaching for the pouch of mora at their waist. “It’s on the house! The payment you’ve already given is more than enough to cover all of this,” you insisted, waving your hands emphatically.

And it was the truth. Thanks to the connections you’d built with your high-profile regulars, you’d found a discreet way to convert mora into gold bars, bypassing the government’s watchful eyes (fanfiction logic, of course). Those gold bars had opened doors to even more lucrative opportunities, leaving you with more than enough wealth to afford this generous gesture.

“But—” the Traveler started, their brow furrowed in protest.

“No buts!” you interrupted, placing a hand over their mouth to silence them. “That’s final,” you said firmly, though your eyes sparkled with warmth. “Besides, this is my way of saying thank you—for your companionship, for listening to me rant about rude customers, and for always brightening my day. You two mean a lot to me, and this is the least I can do.”

Paimon, who had been floating nearby with a pastry already in hand, grinned from ear to ear. “See, Traveler? (Reader) says it’s fine, so stop being so stubborn! Paimon’s not complaining about free food!”

The Traveler sighed, their resistance melting away as they shook their head with a soft chuckle. “Alright, alright. We’ll accept your gift—but only because you’re being so insistent.”

You laughed, stepping back and crossing your arms with a satisfied smile. “Good! Now, make sure to enjoy every bite. And don’t even think about trying to sneak mora into my apron later—I’ll know!”

The Traveler simply smiled at you, a look of helpless gratitude in their eyes, and nodded in understanding. They knew better than to argue with you when you were this determined.

The café was soon filled with the sound of laughter and lively conversation as the three of you shared one last chat before it was time for them to leave. The warmth of the moment made the impending goodbye a little easier to bear.

Finally, Paimon floated toward the door, her tiny hands waving excitedly. “Goodbye, (Reader)! We’ll see you again in two days! Make sure to take care of yourself, okay?” she chirped, her voice brimming with genuine affection.

Beside her, the Traveler stood, balancing the three large cloth-covered containers with ease. They gave you a nod, their expression soft but resolute. “We’ll be back soon. Don’t overwork yourself,” they added, their tone gentle but firm.

You smiled, feeling a bittersweet tug in your chest. “Same to you two. Safe travels, and don’t let Paimon eat everything in one sitting!” you teased, earning a playful pout from the floating fairy.

Paimon reached for the door and swung it open, revealing the sprawling landscape of Guili Plains. In the distance, the towering silhouette of Wangshu Inn stood against the horizon, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

You waved as they stepped through the doorway, their figures framed by the breathtaking view of their world. “See you soon!” you called out, your voice carrying a mix of fondness and anticipation.

The door closed softly behind them, leaving the café quiet once more. You stood there for a moment, the warmth of their presence lingering in the air, before turning back to the kitchen with a smile. Two days would pass quickly, and you already couldn’t wait to see them again.

--------------------------------------------------

Taglist:

@kameyo-kumo @esthelily @haru-tofuu @udretlnea @shining-nebula2000 @ifeellikejumpingoffacliff @resident-cryptid @allblognamesaretakenlikereally @leilakaro @stvrbrighttt @chericia @evaline-ethan @ra404 @mmmhyperfixation @original-person @chaoticfivesworld @lexal-amber-rose @floofeh-purpi @time-shardz @animeobsessed56 @fantasyhopperhea @yuan1819

I'm sorry to those in the taglists whose names didn't tag them. Tumblr doesn't want them. I even double checked your accounts.

[nakylvr]

— LOSER

sophia laforteza x fem!reader

synopsis જ⁀➴ after your encounter with sophia the previous night, you think it won't happen again. that is, until she finds you again, and asks a question you haven't heard in a long time.

warnings/tags જ⁀➴ language

wc જ⁀➴ 3,4 k

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hi! i'm back with this! i'm so sorry it took so long 😓 but we're back and running! i have updated everyone who wanted to be added to the taglist which is still open!

“WHAT?!”

“Dani, calm dow-”

“How am I supposed to calm down?!”

“It's nothing, really-”

“She walked you here and gave you her umbrella!???”

You let out a long sigh, rubbing your temples as Daniela sits in her bed across from you in yours. You had just made the mistake of telling her what happened last night when Sophia walked you back to the dorms and gave you the umbrella. You expected this reaction, honestly. But it was a lot for just waking up at ten in the morning

“Yes, she walked me back and gave me her umbrella,” You say slowly so she understands. “It's not that big of a deal.”

“Obviously it is!” Daniela jumps to her feet. “She has never even taken a glance in our direction and now all of a sudden she is trying to talk to you? It's a big deal, Yn!”

“No, it's not!” You groan, falling backward onto your bed.

“Why did you even agree to her walking you back?” Daniela questions, her arms crossed over her chest.

You hesitate before answering. “I don't know,” You mumble.

“Don't lie to me, Yn,” Daniela tells you.

“I just…” You sigh again, sitting up to look at your friend. “I guess…I just wanted to see what would happen if I said yes. She seemed genuine so I let her,” You admit, fiddling with your hands anxiously.

Daniela tries not to sigh at your response. She figured that would be a reason, but she didn't think you would actually agree for Sophia Laforteza to walk you across the campus. “Did anyone see you two?” She asks.

You shake your head, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands. “I don't think so. It was raining pretty bad so I doubt anyone would’ve been able to see.”

“Well, that's good,” Daniela nods. “You know what’ll happen if people find out she's talking to you.”

“Yeah,” You acknowledge, nodding your head. “It's probably the only time it’ll happen, so I’m not going to stress on it.”

“Let's try to keep it that way. I don't need to lose my best friend to some petty popular rich girl,” Daniela says, sitting next to you on your bed and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I love you a shit ton, Yn. I don't want you getting hurt if she does talk to you again. Promise me you'll at least be safe?”

“You won't lose me, Dani,” You reply, leaning your head against her shoulder. “But, I promise. Trust me, I seriously don't think anything will happen. She was probably just being nice.”

“Yeah, nice,” Daniela mutters but you don't hear it.

…

Earlier that morning, Intak was practicing with the soccer team. Now, despite being the best center the team has seen in years, Intak didn't get along well with his teammates. They were basically dumb popular jocks, and they essentially shunned him after he denied wanting to hang out with the popular kids, wanting to hang out with you guys instead. He didn't mind it, though. The guys were assholes anyway.

He kicked the ball into the goal when he felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned to see one of his teammates.

“Yo, Sophia’s asking for you. Dunno why, just don't be a loser,” The teammate tells Intak.

“Sophia?” Intak tilts his head to the side before looking over to the bleachers and seeing Sophia standing at the edge of the field. “Yeah, uh, okay.” He says before jogging over to the girl.

“Intak!” Sophia smiles when he reaches her. “Sorry if I interrupted.”

“No, you-you're good!” Intak responds, running his hand through his sweaty hair. He is confused about why she's talking to him, and that she even knows his name. But, he isn't going to say that. “So, uh, what did you wanna talk to me about?” He asks her.

“Well,” Sophia clasps her hands together. “I wanted to ask about Yn.” She smiles at him.

“Huh?” Intak lets out, looking at the girl with confusion. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Sophia answers. “You're always around her so I figured you might know something about her that no one else does.”

Intak is growing more and more confused the more Sophia says, and it's evident in the way his eyebrows are furrowed together. “Okay…” His voice trails off. “You're not planning on doing something bad, are you? Because Dani and I will kick your ass if you even try to,” He says firmly, pointing at the girl.

“What?! No! No, no!” Sophia quickly shakes her head. “I’m just– I want to get to know her, is all.”

Intak eyes her for a moment, attempting to see if she's lying or not. It's hard to tell, but he nods his head slowly. “Okay. What do you wanna know?” He asks hesitantly.

Sophia smiles again at his question. “Just the basics,” She replies.

Intak nods again, glancing back at his teammates seemingly not caring that he's talking to Sophia before looking back at her. “Sure,” He says.

After talking with Sophia during the remainder of practice, Intak was walking through the halls while texting the group chat as he drank his water. He had yet to say he talked to Sophia, knowing the reaction he would get out of you all. He figured it’d be better to say it in person.

He did end up telling Sophia what she wanted to know, just some basic random things about you like your favorite color, food, what classes you were in, and stuff like that. He thought it was weird, but he was too nice to say no when she told him she would help him get back on good terms with his team. She was probably lying, but then again, maybe it was good for you to make some new friends. He wanted new friends too, but he loved you guys too much to try and become friends with others. Especially when your group was already labeled as the “loser group”.

Intak stopped abruptly when he read the message you sent to the group chat. Explaining what happened with Sophia last night and it clicked in his brain. “Oh my god,” He mumbles to himself. He types a response on his phone before calling you, which you pick up immediately.

“Intak, don't freak-”

“Yn, what the shit?!” Intak whisper-yells into the phone as he starts to walk again.

“Look, I already dealt with this with Dani, so please don't make a big deal out of this.”

“How do I not?!” Intak says, looking around to not bump into anyone.

“By not freaking out!”

“This is a big deal, Yn!” Intak retorts. “You don- You don’t understand! Sophia was just at my practice asking random ass questions about you!”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Just meet me at the bleachers, I’m going to find Hoon and bring him with. Try to find Dani if you can,” Intak tells you, turning a corner to go where Sunghoon’s dorm was. “I really don’t like this, Yn.”

“You all need to stop worrying, it’s not that big of a deal. You’re all blowing this way out of proportion. But, whatever. I’ll see you at the bleachers, I guess.”

“Thank yo-” Intak can get out before you hang up the phone. He pulls the phone away from his ear and lets out a sigh, continuing to walk to the dorms.

…

Sunghoon laid on his bed, or, what he thought was his bed. It was nearing ten a.m. when the sun peeked through the blinds causing his eyes to open groggily. He lifted his head off the pillow and grabbed his glasses, putting them on and looking to his side. His eyes went wide at the sight.

“Fuck,” He whispered to himself.

Quietly but quickly, Sunghoon got out of the bed and started searching for his clothes in the dorm room he had only been in twice before. He put his shirt on backwards accidentally, almost tripping over his pants before slipping on his shoes. He looked over to the other male in the bed when he heard movement, quietly grabbing his bag before exiting the room as quickly as possible. He glanced around to see if anyone was around before scurrying off to whatever class he was supposed to be in.

Sunghoon hurried down the hallway when suddenly he was grabbed by the back — or rather, the front of his shirt, halting him in his tracks. He let out a yelp before realizing it was Intak. “What the heck, Intak?” He grumbled.

“Your shirt’s on backwards,” Intak tells him, letting go and walking to stand in front of him. “Whose dorm were you just in?”

“What?” Sunghoon questions as he pulls his shirt to see the tag in front of his chest. “I was in my dorm.” He lies.

“Then why didn't you answer any of the group chat texts?” Intak inquires, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I was studying with Yn. You know how midterms are. I slept in for once, sue me,” Sunghoon lies again. “She and I actually study.”

Intak’s eyes narrow, catching the lie. “That's funny. Because Yn just told the group chat that she went straight to the dorms after her last class and that Sophia Laforteza walked her back.”

Sunghoon tenses up at Intak’s response. He was caught in his lie and found out you talked to Sophia again. “She what?” He lets out. “Why?”

“Who were you with?” Intak counters.

“Why does it matter?” Sunghoon retaliates. “I’m not allowed to have other friends?”

“You don't have other friends, Hoon,” Intak tells him. “We both know that.”

Sunghoon shifts on his feet, clearly anxious as he tries to come up with a response. “I was with someone, yes,” He acknowledges. “But, that's not important. Why is Sophia talking to Yn?”

“Dunno,” Intak shrugs. “C’mon, we’re heading to the bleachers to talk about it.”

“Wh- I have a class I’m supposed to be in,” Sunghoon responds.

Intak rolls his eyes at his friend’s words. “Dude, who gives a damn? C’mon,” He says, grabbing Sunghoon’s arm and starting to drag him down the halls.

“What the- Intak, you can’t just- Whatever,” Sunghoon tries, but knows his words will fall deaf on Intak’s ears. He lets the other male drag him to the bleachers, where the group normally went to sit and talk when on campus grounds.

Once they got to the bleachers, you were sitting there with Daniela talking. Looking in the boys’ direction, you raise an eyebrow when you see Sunghoon’s shirt.

“You know your shirt is on backwards, Hoon?” You ask him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Sunghoon nods, putting his bag down and sitting down next to you. “What happened? I haven’t had a chance to read the messages,” He says, taking his glasses off and cleaning them with his shirt before putting them back on.

“Well!” Daniela speaks up before you. “Our lovely Yn here apparently had Sophia talk to her again. And walked her back to the dorm. And gave her some fucking umbrella.”

You reach your hand over to Daniela’s which was balled into a fist, resting on top of it while looking at Sunghoon who was staring back in confusion.

“She what?” He lets out, confused. “Why?”

“That's what we're trying to figure out,” Daniela tells him.

“Guys, I seriously don't think it's that big of a deal!” You sigh loudly.

“Well, it’s odd, you have to admit,” Sunghoon says. “For someone who has never looked in our direction before, don’t you think it’s a little odd that suddenly she’s speaking to you?”

“Well–” You start.

“She also asked me a bunch of random shit about you!” Intak interrupts.

“What?” Daniela and Sunghoon both look at Intak.

“Yeah!” The boy nods quickly. “It was super weird, how did she even know I was on the team? Let alone that practice was today?!”

“See! More weird things!” Daniela exclaims, swinging around her hand that wasn’t being held by you. “This doesn’t make any sense!’

“You’re overthinking it!” You stand up abruptly, letting go of Daniela’s hand. The three all look at you with wide eyes, going silent at your sudden outburst. “For the first time since we came to this school, someone has shown a little bit of interest in me! And instead of being supportive friends, you think it’s some kind of lie or something!”

“Yn–”

“No! I’m not going to listen to this shit anymore!” You cut off Daniela, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “You guys really suck sometimes.” You shake your head and start stomping away.

“Shit, Yn!” Daniela starts to get up but stops when Sunghoon puts his hand on her shoulder.

“Let her go,” He tells her. “She needs some time.”

“Whatever.” Daniela smacks his hand off her shoulder. “I still don't like this.”

“Me either!” Intak groans dramatically. “It's only going to end bad.”

“Drop it.” Sunghoon snaps at the two, making them look at him with surprise. “Like she said, we should be supportive of someone talking to Yn, even if it is Sophia. We shouldn't interfere if she doesn't want us to. Okay?” He glances between the two.

“Okay,” Intak says with a nod.

“That means you too, Dani.” Sunghoon looks at the blonde. “You're on thin ice already where you are. Don't fuck it up.”

“Okay,” Daniela grumbles under her breath.

…

Walking down the hallway with your earbuds playing music, you find yourself where you always end up – the empty music room.

Closing the door behind you, you take one of your earbuds out, letting it hang by the cord as you set your things down on one of the small tables. Sitting down, you pull out your notebook and pen from your bag, setting them down in front of you. You flip through the first few pages before stopping on a page.

For the past few months you’d been working on different songs, and thankfully with the school having a recording studio, you could actually get somewhere with it. You have nine finished songs that just need to be recorded, and one last one you were still struggling with writing the lyrics for. It was rare for you to get stuck once you got started, but as you reread the words on the page, you still couldn’t come up with anything.

Despite doing it solely for fun, it was stressful at the same time. At least, right now it was. You tap the pen on the table while continuing to gaze at the words, nothing coming up in your mind of what to write the chorus. All you had done was the first verse, and you had no idea where it was going.

“God…” You groan, resting your head on the notebook.

“Struggling?”

You jump at the voice, sitting up and quickly closing your notebook, and turning your head to see Sophia standing there. “How long were you standing there?” You ask.

“Just now,” Sophia answers. “Didn't mean to scare you like last time.” She smiles sheepishly.

“It's fine,” You mumble. “Are you stalking me or something? How did you know I was here?”

“Coincidence?” Sophia says. “I saw you storming away from the bleachers and followed you.”

One of your eyebrows raises at this. “Why?”

“Well, you looked upset,” She shrugs. “I expected you to be here of all places anyway.”

“Well you found me,” You wave your arms up before they land back at your sides. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to ask you something.” Sophia takes a few steps towards you.

You couldn't lie, you were curious now. What did she want to ask you? And why was she asking it now, when you were alone? “Okay…” Your voice trails off. “Spit it out.”

“There's a party my friend is hosting this weekend and I was wondering if you wanted to come?”

What?

You stare at the girl for a few moments, blinking occasionally trying to process her words. “I’m sorry, you want me to what?” You finally say, looking at her with confusion.

“You don't have to say yes,” Sophia is quick to say once seeing the look on your face. “I just thought maybe you’d want to go with me.”

What.

Your lips are parted in surprise at her words, struggling to figure out a response. While you hate parties and haven't been to one since you were in high school, part of you wants to say yes. “What do you mean by with you?” You question, needing a real confirmation before you answer.

“It's a plus one kinda thing,” Sophia replies. “He doesn't like too many people showing up, it causes too many problems.” She pauses for a second before continuing. “You’d be with me the whole time, and I promise nothing will happen to you.”

You try to hide the shock you're in, but it is evident with your wide eyes as she continues talking. She says it like it's nothing, like it's the truth. And it has you believing it is.

“When is this party?” You ask.

Sophia’s smile turns into a grin at your question. “This Saturday.”

Nodding your head, you pick up your notebook and put it back in your bag, zipping it up and putting it on your shoulder. You walk up to Sophia, standing in front of her close enough that she can see the barely noticeable smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “Give me your phone,” You say.

Sophia doesn't ask why or say anything, pulling her phone out and handing it over to you. You open the contacts and put your number in before handing the phone back to her. “Then you'll text me just to confirm, right?”

Sophia takes her phone back and nods her head, surprised by your actions but trying not to show it. “Yeah,” She says. “Yeah, I will.”

“I’ll be waiting, Laforteza.” You start walking out of the room, leaving Sophia standing there with her phone still in her hands like an idiot.

That was easier than she expected it to be. And it wouldn't have been if not for the mini argument with your friends minutes prior. But, then why was Sophia’s heart beating incredibly fast? Why did she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding when you left the room? Why was she surprised by your actions?

…

“Where the hell is she?”

“Doing what you told her to do.”

“Well, it shouldn't take this long!”

“Maybe she has to convince her. It would probably take a while.”

“I can hear you talking about me from a mile away,” Sophia pops up behind the group, making them all jump.

“Jesus, Soph!” Jay sighs loudly. “What the fuck?”

“What? It's not my fault you talk loud.” The Filipina shrugs, sitting down next to him at the table.

“Well, did you ask her?” He asks, putting his phone down.

“I did.” Sophia nods. “And she said yes.”

“Really?” The three let out, looking at Sophia with surprise.

“Did you bribe her?” Lara asks.

“No.” Sophia shakes her head. “I didn't even have to convince her!”

“Wow,” Manon lets out. “That's a shocker.”

“Totally,” Jay agrees.

“But, that means whatever you’re doing is working.”

“Yeah, which is a good thing.” Lara nods. “I mean, it’s like you said, how could anyone resist you?”

“Right,” Sophia responds, nodding her head.

While the three talked, Sophia zoned out for a few minutes. The plan was working, but she didn’t even really know what she was doing for it to work. She had caught herself hesitant to even enter the music room when she saw you storming off inside, and that was new. Sophia never hesitated for anything. She knew what she wanted, she did what she wanted, and she would get what she wanted. But, she didn’t know what she wanted. That was a first. She was well put together and didn’t have issues with a lot of things. But, this was already steering in a different direction just by your actions. She didn’t know what to do about it.

“Sophia, are you listening?”

“What?” Sophia looks over at the three.

“We need you to buy booze for the party, can you do that?” Manon asks.

“Yeah, sure.” Sophia nods.

“Cool, it’s gonna be a real banger,” Jay smiles.

Sophia just nods again, a fake smile on her face as she listens to them start talking again, her mind wandering to different things.

This wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought.

taglist (open!) :

@zhivaxo ; @yeetaberry127 ; @ourlovesarang ; @ponyojoo ; @jeindall777 ; @falling-intoo-deep ; @mcuppidz ; @baelabong ; @miyanok ; @jellaaa ; @winieter ; @artrizzler19 ; @starstruckgoateepuppy ; @pminjucaptor ; @dismaldiary ; @sixflame438 ; @hwonnrinji ; @gtfoiydlyj ; @lafortezalover ; @sunshinez4 ; @greenniee ;

[quokkaholic]

Aquarium Guy h.j

Warnings/ tags: Pure delulu fluff, gn reader (if you consider guy neutral, which I do obv), little cussing. Minimally proofed

Synopsis: You work for a hobby aquarium store that offers in-home installation. After Han impulse buys a fish tank online, he sets up an appointment with you to help set it up, which leads to many subsequent appointments definitely for the fish and not to have an excuse to see you. (romance anime style with mutual pining and slight angst that could easily be solved by communicating your feelings with nothing but a sweet confession at the end. where all my romance lovers at? 🙋👋)

.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓆝 ｡𖦹°‧.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓆝 ｡𖦹°‧.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓆝 ｡𖦹°‧.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓆝

After loading your supplies into the comically large, industrial strength waggon you have to use to carry all your heavy and expensive equipment and lugging it through the halls of the high class apartment complex, you are out of breath as you press the doorbell outside of the door of the apartment number you have written on crumpled piece of paper in your pocket. The size of the tank and location are all the information you had received form your deadbeat manager leaving you to pack way more fixings than are necessary to ensure the customer had options. The lack of details could very well be due to the customers indecisiveness or simply not knowing enough to have opinions yet, but it's more likely that your manager didn’t even care enough to ask about it. In this job, you are more often than not setting up tanks for people with no experience keeping fish, and many don’t even want to learn; they just want living art in their homes. It gives you a job, but you often end up working with snooty people. You have no reason to expect anything less today. As you wait for the customer to answer the door, you go into customer service mode, thickening your skin in case you are to be barked at and ordered around for the next few hours and going over your script in your head.

A chipper but cautious voice comes from the speaker above the button asking of your identity, and your mind races with uncertainty. Are you at the wrong place? As you reach for the paper with the address in your pocket, you nervously answer,

“This is y/n from The Fish Bowl; I’m here for the appointment booked to this address...”

“Oh shi..” is all you hear before shuffling on the other side of the door, and it is flung open. To your surprise, a breathtaking man in casual attire opens the door completely destroying the image of a crotchety well-to-do you had been preparing for. You’re always a bit nervous about home visits, but the fact that he’s got to be around your age, and his casual demeanor mixed with his kind features, puts you at ease.

“So sorry, please come in! Let me help you.”

“Don’t worry I got it. It's my job” you respond, pulling the cart behind you. The place is decorated simply but it's still homey. He lets you know the tank will be in his room as he leads you there. The space is by no means dirty, but it's obviously lived in, which is honestly nice to see when most of the houses you end up at are sterile and maintained that way as a show of status.

“Sorry it's a mess, I may have forgotten I booked this…” his words trail off with a nervous smile.

“This is NOT dirty; I think your room is very cute and nice, but if you need me to come back another time, that's more than fine. What day would work better for-?” He cuts you off slightly panicky,

“No! No, today is great! Plus you’re already here; I just booked it on impulse and it slipped my mind. I’m sorry, again, but I’m really excited about this!”

“Please stop apologizing! I’m working for you today,” you say as you begin rifling through your supplies, hastily getting to work before you make things even more awkward. Han takes a seat on his bed. You work in silence, removing the basic items to get started with.

“You really think my room is cute?” There's a coyness to his voice.

“For sure! It has a lot of character. I really like that,” you say glazing around the room, eyes landing on stacks of manga, old game consoles, and multiple guitars before landing on the large empty tank resting on a desk along the wall opposite his bed and continuing,

“The aquarium is gonna look really sick in here,” a huge smile spreads across his face,

“That's what I'm saying! My friends think it's just another stupid purchase. I’ll admit, I buy a lot of useless stuff online, but this is not one. It's gonna be legendary.”

Having to help him though the decisions of what style filter and aquascaping he wants, you quickly learn how indecisive Han is. His answers to every question flip flopping back and forth for an eternity with a million questions about your experience and personal tanks and your opinions, often landing on whatever you say you have or like. If he wasn’t so cute and sweet, you’d probably be annoyed by now. His genuine curiosity and lust for knowledge are beyond endearing.

Many of your clients barely speak to you beyond the bare minimum, a lot aren’t even home while you're there, but Han casually lounges in the room chatting away. You can feel him watching your every move; it made you a bit nervous at first, but it quickly became obvious that he is just enthralled by the process, frequently commenting little ‘woah’s and ‘It's just like the video I saw!’

When the set up is done, he helps you fill the tank with water and pack up your equipment. Once the hard work is done, you give him the run down accompanied by the informational pamphlet, and his overflowing excitement is quickly replaced with utter disappointment when you inform him that the tank still isn’t ready, as it needs time to cycle before it's safe for fish. His jaw going slack and eyes bugging when you broke the news.

“I’m so sorry, Sir, I mean, Han,” He had asked you to speak casually with him when he found out you are in fact close in age, causing both your cheeks to slightly heat at you slip of the tongue before you bulldoze right over the awkwardness to continue the conversation,

“My manager should have informed you, I used special substrate and established media in the filter, which should speed up the process, but it could still take up to around 2 weeks,” his big eyes are brimming with sadness, dismay sullying his beautiful face. You just had to do something,

“How about we give it like five or six days and then I can start dropping by daily to test the water, that way we can get you your babies as soon as possible?” at your offer his exuberance returns along with immense gratitude. He tries to be polite and decline your offer, but you can tell it's just a formality, and he's desperate for his tank to be filled. He is a flustered mess when you tell him that what you're offering isn’t a service through your job, but a kindness that you want to provide because he is the best customer you’ve had in a long time, and you are genuinely excited to help him as you enter your personal number into his phone. That evening you receive yet another thanks from Han with details to set up the next time you’ll be over.

Six days later, you are back at the apartment ringing the doorbell. Instead of hearing Han’s cheery voice from the speaker, a more serious and suspicious voice comes out,

“Who are you?”

You weren’t prepared for this. You thought Han would just open the door, as you showed up right at the time he was expecting you. You even got there a bit early and sat in your car to ensure you’d arrive perfectly on time. You weren’t prepared for another introduction; you hadn’t practiced your lines.

“Oh um, I’m the… the aquarium guy?” you stutter out, just trying to say something, so he doesn’t assume you're some freak or solicitor. 

“What?” Did he not hear you, or was he genuinely confused by your answer?

“I’m here to test the water of Mr. Han’s aquarium, he should be expecting me” a faint noise of approval is all you hear in response before a shout coming from the other side of the door.

“Mr. Han-yah, the aquarium guy is here!” the unknown tenant yells naggingly into the apartment. Soon the door is pulled open to reveal Han slightly flustered, assumedly he’d run from his room on the other side of the apartment. He introduced you to his roommate who must’ve been the one you spoke to. He was polite but not particularly interested in making conversation, which you appreciated as you were feeling particularly shy after your interaction through the speaker.

The visit was short. You made quick work of testing the water, putting some water in vials and adding the testing solutions before setting the timers and observing the color changes. The awkwardness that dissipated after spending a few hours together almost  a week ago has returned, maybe even stronger than when you first met as you guys are in that weird phase when strangers become acquaintances. If it weren’t for Han's persistent curiosity, you probably would've spent the whole ten minutes in uncomfortable silence, but thankfully Han’s mind thirsts for knowledge, and he did not allow a single step in the process go by without asking at least one question. Unfortunately, you had to break the news that the tank was in fact not ready, and break his sweet little heart all over again. It hurt to have to break his spirits once again; you warned him that it probably wouldn't be ready for two weeks, but his excitement, and your unprofessional interest in him, has you continuing to show up at his apartment daily for another week, everyday having to crush his dreams of being a fish dad all over again. 

Despite repeatedly dashing his hopes, the visits became something you looked forward to desperately. They were at all hours of the day to meet his complex schedule, but you always made time for him. The quick drive by water tests shifted to prolonged aquaria talks to straight up just hanging out under the guise of work. Even though not all of your meetings were during work hours, a lot of them were; you knew it was wrong to be hanging out on the clock, but one look at Han’s giddy face every time he lays eyes on you makes the guilt disappear instantly. It’s not like you're neglecting any job duties, time you typically would be wasting at the office are now being spent more effectively “building customer relations”. At least that is the answer you had prepared if your manager ever asked what you were doing, but he never did. He could not care less of your whereabouts and was probably happy to have you off his back and out of his hair. 

The day after the levels looked correct you arrived bright and early with bags of colorful fish, you had painstakingly helped Han pick out with the help of Lee know. Even as a three man job, it took hours. After all that you ended up with a selection that looked strikingly similar to the set up of one of your community tanks you have set up at home. Even though Lee know acted uninterested, he sat with Han, watching you work and put the finishing touches on the tank before floating the fish. You all spent time gaming as the fish acclimated to the temperature of the tank. Once the temperature was equalized, you began drip-acclimating them to the water parameters. The drips were excessively slow and some would argue, unnecessary as the fish you all chose were on the hardy side to accommodate Han's inexperience, but you were definitely being extra careful, and not just making excuses to spend all day with them. Han ordered you all food, which you overly thanked him for, but he insisted that you deserved it for all your hard work.

When the fish were added and supplies were packed, you talked to Han about tank maintenance, and offered him the tank maintenance package that your work provides. He seemed extremely on board until he made a joking comment,

“I can’t be a single dad of twenty! You have to help me care for my babies,” he commands with a silly grin.

“Oh han,” you fein condescension “I was promoted beyond sucking up fish poop months ago; I’ll send one of my underlings to do that,” you jest, but it is not as well received as you would have  hoped, Han’s face drooping for a moment before continuing the jesting conversation,

“Underling? What are you an anime villain?”, he asks. You pause for a moment before answering with a mischievous smirk,

“Definitely not…” His acting is on point as he acts out the dramatic reveal of the big bad. The slight disappointment still barely visible in his face as he continues,

“Maybe you could just teach me how to do it myself! I’ll figure out something for when I’m traveling when the time comes; I'll hold off for now. So you just do set ups or..?” 

“Yeah mainly setups and upgrades,” you say trying to maintain familiarity, but it is obvious his mind is slowly slipping somewhere else. You quickly say your goodbyes as it's starting to get dark, and you still have to drop off the equipment back at the office.

The next day, you take some time to yourself and have a bit of a slow morning since you worked late last night. When you arrive at the shop, you settle in checking emails sipping on your fancy latte you actually had the time to make. You deserved a treat. You couldn’t quite pin down the reason, but the day felt a bit lackluster. Maybe you slept weird, maybe it was just one of those days, or maybe you didn’t have a meeting at a cute boys apartment to look forward to. After responding to the miscellaneous messages, you check your schedule to see if your manager booked you out for anything coming up. There were a few installs you knew you had coming up, but a highlighted date for your soonest appointment next week was new. After clicking on it and reading the description, a smile tugged at your lips, your heart raced, and the day seemed a bit less dim. Han was on your books for a lighting upgrade.

You looked forward to seeing him all week. You’ve gotten close enough that you will text about stuff unrelated to work, but neither of you are comfortable extending the conversation, so it usually just starts off with a fish tank questions and goes back and forth a bit before reaching a natural stopping point and then lies dormant until he sends you more questions or update pictures on the fish he insists are your god children, frequently adding that they “miss you very much”.

When you arrive at the apartment you have become all too familiar with, Lee know is once again the one to answer the door, which you have come to realize is the norm, and he shouts that the ‘aquarium guy is back’. He has taken quite fondly to calling you the silly name you gave yourself in a flustered panic, even going as far a s saving it as your contact in his phone. You question if he even knows your real name, yet he treats you like a friend nonetheless. Your lighting install takes little more than an hour, but you end up staying for a few; Lee know cooking you all lunch, before they are the ones who have to cut the hangout short as they have some appointments. 

The next day, you follow your usual routine of checking emails and then schedule to see Han has booked you again to install a CO2 injector. You were very clear in explaining he didn’t need one because his plants are beginner friendly, but you won’t pass on another chance to see him. Despite being more than happy to keep this up, there's a nagging in your head reminding you that it can’t go on forever.

A few days later, you have to go to Han’s house late in the evening, as it was the soonest free time he had that you were available. You offered to push it back a few days, but he vehemently refused the rescheduling. When you arrive, Han is looking a little less put together than usual, sweats and an oversized hoodie with his hair pushed back in a ball cap and barefaced. He must’ve been at practice; he looks so exhausted. Feeling bad for keeping him up, you have to keep reminding yourself that he insisted that you be there. He tried to apologize for his appearance, but you shut him up quickly with a string of compliments that flew from your lips before you could think twice. He just looked so soft and cuddly which is only exaggerated by his flushing cheeks and ears. Yanking yourself swiftly from your admiring trance to avoid getting locked in it for the rest of the evening, you get to work hooking up valves and tubing before dialing in the right amount of gas to be released.

Finally connecting it to the lighting timer system. Usually, you’d take your sweet time chatting Han up while you work or just rush through the install to have more time to purely hangout, but since it was already so late, you opt to work in concentrated silence, only talking to feed Han information about his new system. After double and triple checking that the flow of gas is appropriate and there are no leaks in any of the connections, you hastily gather your stuff hoping to leave Han to get some rest after his ling day. He is already dozing off in a beanbag in the corner, a vintage handheld gaming system resting in his lap still playing idle music. You whisper a goodbye over your shoulder heading out the door, but before you cross the doorway back into the hallway, calloused fingertips wrap around your wrist.

“Wait...” his speech is broken up by a yawn, using his free hand to rub the sleep from his eyes, 

“Let me take you to dinner?” it's less of a question and more of an order.

“Hannie,” a sweet nickname you’ve subconsciously adopted from Lee know, 

“you’re so tired, don’t even try to deny it,” you respond to his ask, accurately predicting his next tactic causing his mouth to close as he swallows his words and contemplates a backup plan,

“Fine, I am tired, but I’m also sooo hungry,” he pleads with puppy dog eyes, dramatically gripping his stomach, trying to pull the sympathy card, but that ends up backfiring, as you’re now concerned that he isn’t taking care of himself.

“You haven’t eaten?! Come on man!” chastising him in a joking tone. His imploring face turns to one of shock as he goes to defend himself,

“I rushed home after we finished to see you! I bet you haven’t had dinner either!” His read is valid, pointing out your hypocrisy. If his comment about skipping out on food to see you wasn’t enough to drain the sternness from your tone, your embarrassment over your sanctimonious scolding was. Sighing, you relent, 

“Fine, but you aren’t calling a ride, I’ll drive.”

Dinner with Han was the highlight of your week. You try not to think about it, but recently he has become the highlight of every week. The conversation is pleasant as ever; Han's silly nature has you sending jokes back and forth filling the nearly empty restaurant with bellowing laughter, even earning some snickers from the older cashier/server you could only assume is the owner or at least related to them. At one point, you even choke on your soda when Han made some offhand, absurd comment causing you to spit the drink, luckily, into a napkin and not his face or food, earning concerned looks from the few other tables and another lambasting from you. He insisted on paying for your meal, making it feel even more like a date, which only made your heart sink more as you laid in bed reflecting on the evening, once the post-date high wore off after dropping him off. There was only one upgrade left that you offer, and you had a strong inclination that the next time you worked, there would be that last appointment made at that cute man’s apartment.

Unsurprisingly, there was a new appointment with the all too familiar address for your earliest availability, but the whole calendar had been cleared after that. You would ask your manager about it, but he wasn’t in the store, which wasn’t out of the ordinary. You asked some of the other aquarium techs, but they hadn’t seen him either. It wasn’t till you entered the customer facing portion of the store and spoke to the cashier that they broke the news that your shit-head manager was finally canned for not completing job duties. While it was long overdue and definitely for the best for the company, you couldn't help but worry that the replacement would be stricter on your scheduling and keep a closer eye on your whereabouts, but that shouldn’t really be a problem after your appointment with Han tomorrow. After a quick phone call with upper management, you realize it actually won’t be a concern at all, as you’ve been promoted, you are the replacement.

You toyed with the idea of cancelling on Han; if you keep pushing it off, there would never be a last booking. You could save the final install for when you were ready to say goodbye, but you knew that day wouldn’t come. Plus if you pushed it off too much, they would probably just give the appointment to someone else so you can focus on your new managerial duties. Han had obviously become more than a client, not even the most delusional, irrational person could deny your growing feeling for him. It would be better to just rip the bandage off and move on. You steel yourself as you ring the doorbell one last time with your stupid cart filled with the supplies for a small brine shrimp hatchery, so he can have live food for his spoiled babies. 

Soon after letting you in, Han had to take a phone call, leaving you alone in his room. You were simultaneously grateful for not having to navigate telling him that you won’t be seeing him anymore just yet and sad that your last hangout with him was sabotaged by some important conversation he just had to have right now when he should be hovering over you gushing about all the documentaries he has been watching or games he's been playing. When he finally enters the room, he finds you gathering your things.

“Damn, you're already finished?”

“No worries, Mr. Han. I’m all done here; you've got the whole shabang. Very jealous. Your fish are very lucky to have you,” you say, trying to cover your sadness with some joking sass, but it comes out a bit more cold than you would’ve liked, returning to formalities trying to solidify the customer and worker dynamic in your mind. The tightness in your chest making your trash acting skills even worse. Trying not to look his way for too long, especially due to the puzzled expression written all over his face as he tries to figure out what has come over you, you keep your head buried in your bag. 

“I’m sorry, I wouldn't have taken the call if I didn’t have to,” he apologizes trying to solve your sour mood. 

“No! It's fine, really! Please don’t be sorry; just feel like I missed out a little…” you confess; you are upset but not at him, and you can’t leave him thinking he had done something wrong. At your words the smile he had greeted you with returns to his lips,

“I’ll just have to bother you extra next time,” he says in a mocking tone. Face scrunching as you search for the words for a moment,

“Like I said, you’ve gotten all the upgrades available…” letting your words trail off, hoping he would put two and two together.

“Oh… well…I think Lee know said he wants a tank in his room for enrichment for the cats, or... maybe we could put one in the living room; that would look cool, right?” He is racking his brain for ideas to keep you around. You force a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes as you relay the ‘good’ news,

“I’ve actually been promoted again. This is my last appointment as an aquarium tech.” His face drops reminding you of when you denied him fish all those weeks ago, and if you thought it was heartbreaking then, the look on his face is practically earth shattering. He’s done trying to cover his motives, he decides before speaking softly,

“I don’t want to stop seeing you” his words are barely audible. Just as your words shocked him into confession, his do the same to you.

“I’d gladly go back to sucking up fish poop to keep spending time with you,” your admission triggers such a strong grin from him that it pinches his misty eyes causing the tears to gather in the corners threatening to spill down his pink cheeks that match your own. After a deep breath with just the trace of a quiver, he makes a proposition,

“How about you start coming over as my,” he pauses looking for the right word, 

”friend,” he lands on skeptically, like he was planning on saying something else,

“not my aquarium guy?”

.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓆝 ｡𖦹°‧.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓆝 ｡𖦹°‧.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓆝 ｡𖦹°‧.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓆝

A.n- yes is do keep fish, how’d you know? This was inspired by the Han and Bang chan interview on Jaefriends when Han admits to being a big online/impulse shopper or “pushover consumer”. This took me so long to write; smut remains so much easier for me to write. I guess it's easier to be horny and depraved than to be wholesome and vulnerable. will consult the council on this one.

-mo 🐠

pic creds: pinterest x x

Masterlist

[hopepunk-humanity]

Hi! (Vent/Tw for mental illnesses and related things)

How does one have hope?

I’ve been forcing myself to be a normal person. I’ve been forcing myself to be mentally okay and stable because i can’t get any help. Nobody cares (I can’t talk to my school councilor, I can’t talk to my advisor, I’m too busy, no teachers like to listen, none of my friends are close enough for me to vent to them) about my mental illnesses and I’ve been forcing myself not relapse.

But I can’t really hope anymore. I feel nothing but trudging along. I’m on the right path for high school, for college, for education, for extra curriculars, and everyone’s managing better than I am, so I get why no one thinks they should check up on me.

I know I’m going to just… turn off my problems for a while. I’m going to try and stop feeling the depression and stuff, it just makes me inefficient.

But how do I hope to feel better? Every moment takes so much effort to keep awake. My country is falling apart, my mind is falling apart, I am falling apart…

How do I hope? What’s that point of hope?

Thank you for reading, and I’m sorry for this weird ask. I just don’t know what to do. Have a lovely day

So, I'm not going to pretend I have all the answers here, but I want to respond anyway because I think I have some advice.

First, it sounds like you're a minor. I want you to know that your mental health is going to get easier to manage when you reach adulthood. This is because you'll finally have the autonomy to do something about it, rather than approaching adults and hoping they take you seriously enough to get you help. In general, the autonomy of adulthood will go a long way in making you not feel helpless.

Obviously, adulthood isn't easy, and your mental health issues won't magically solve themselves, but you won't feel so powerless forever.

Second, how do you hope? This answer is going to be different for everyone. Different things make different people hopeful, which is why the hopepunk recs tag on this blog is so robust. What that thing will be for you is something you'll have to discover for yourself. This is one of the reasons that having hope can be difficult. I realize that's not exactly helpful, but it will be more effective if you find what works for yourself, rather than me suggesting something and you trying to make it fit.

Third, what's the point of hope? That's little more straight-forward (though only a little). Hope helps you fight another day. Hope reminds you what it is you're fighting for. It reminds you you're worth fighting for, and makes it possible to imagine--and then build--a better future.

[whump-queen]

Sapphire: Drill

<previous | next> | Sapphire Masterlist ~ a Destroyer crossover series with @paingoes

Tags: captivity, defiant living weapon whumpee, hand whump, restraints, aftermath of electric shock, superpowers n shit

༻✧༺

Delta lay sprawled on the floor, his breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. His fingers twitched, muscles still jolting with the remnants of the surge that had ripped through him. The sharp scent of ozone clung to the air.

Her advantage recovered, Amira knew she could not let this little stunt go unpunished.

“I shouldn’t have been surprised,” she muttered. “That you’d take the first opportunity you had to fuck me over.”

Her hands were still right by her neck.

He felt his own heart rate quicken in his chest. He’d hurt her. She thought he had done it on purpose.

He flinched back, curling slightly as another shiver ran through him. He doesn’t argue, he never argues, but she can’t believe that. She can’t think it was intentional. It wasn’t. It wasn’t true.

“Accident,” he gasped, forcing the words out. “The collar- energy builds up- can’t control it.”

He knew he would make a better case for himself if he had not just been electrocuted, if he was not drenched in the sheer fucking panic of having electrocuted his handler.

“Sorry,” he said weakly.

“Accident?” Amira’s voice cut like a blade, low and dangerous. Her head still throbbed from the blast, her body buzzing with residual energy. She stepped closer, eyes narrowing as she studied him. 

He looked weak, drained even—but that didn’t matter. 

He expected her to believe that? That he couldn’t control his own powers?

No. He was too precise for that. Too dangerous.

“You don’t expect me to buy that, do you?” she hissed, all bite. “That was no accident. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

“No, sir,” he protested. He already sensed it wouldn’t get him anywhere, but he would not admit to having done it on purpose. That much was tantamount to treason. People died for that.

Though from the way she was looking at him, she had no intention of killing him. 

He tried to steady his breath a little more. To form more than a few syllables at a time. His head hurt. His body hurt. Nothing was making sense, she wouldn’t even understand the science.

“It’s automatic. I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have.”

Amira felt her eye twitch. She’d let him speak. Now she had to decide what to do with his pathetic attempt at an explanation.

“Empire should’ve trained you to lie better,” she hissed.

Talking was getting her nowhere. Fine. There were other ways to make him understand.

“I want you to bow. Low. Head to the floor. Keep still. Don’t move.”

His movement was slowed some by the shock, but there was no hesitation in it. He adjusted himself as best he could in the restraints, resettling into the kneel. Delta bowed, unsteady still, everything he could do not to capsize. But he was obeying, which was the important part.

Amira stepped forward, resting a firm boot on Delta’s head, pressing it into the floor. 

He wasn’t expecting the pressure. There was a soft, dull pain in his head where she’d pressed down, not welcome with the nascent migraine, but it wasn’t unbearable.

She reached for the shackles that pressed his wrists to his back. 

He did earn this, he thought. He hadn’t meant to, it was an accident, but he could not have seriously expected it would go unpunished. Misfiring wasn’t any less dangerous than having done it on purpose. It might’ve even been worse.

A metallic click of a key. And one hand was free. 

Another click, and the other came loose. 

Delta kept his hands still, even as the cuffs mercifully released their bite. She’d told him not to move. He knew not to test it.

“Hands down. In front. On the floor.” 

He did it immediately.

It wasn’t that he expected to be rewarded for his compliance, or even to receive leniency for it. Obedience was the bare minimum. That was just what he was supposed to do. But he did hope, on some level, that it would make her understand. He hadn’t meant to disobey, he never meant to hurt her. Did his deference prove that? He wasn’t sure. His heart was still racing in his chest.

Amira watched him. She found it rather puzzling. What had she done? He was suddenly so obedient. Almost remorseful, she thought. It couldn’t be.

But she’d never seen this kind of obedience before. This complete supplication. The way his hands, though free, didn’t move an inch while he awaited her next command. The way they clamored to the next position, as if eager to follow her orders. 

It was invigorating.

She removed her foot from his head to study him fully, the curl of his spine, the placement of his hands. Pleased, she pressed that same boot down onto his fingers. 

It was unnecessary, some part of her thought. He clearly wasn’t going to move. 

Right?

She felt a twinge behind her eyes, the memory of her hair sizzling on end as fresh in her mind as Delta’s lightning itself. The way the tools still lay scattered across the floor. 

She pressed harder. 

He flinched. It was a slight twitch, more reflex than anything, but he steeled himself against it. He really hoped that she would not outright break his fingers. He knew he had to be punished, but he hoped it would at least be something he could endure. Broken bones felt like a step too far, one he couldn’t tolerate quietly. 

She bent down. Metal looped around Delta’s thin wrists once again, sealing his freedom with a satisfying click.

Amira felt like she could finally exhale. She didn’t like the idea of the psychic unrestrained. Too many unknown factors. Too many liabilities. 

She stepped away, partly to admire her handiwork, partly to see whether he would move from his assigned position without an order. 

He didn’t.

Amira considered him for a moment. She was honestly impressed. He was like a statue. She wondered for a moment, how long she could keep him like this. How long he would stay. 

If not given further orders, he should be able to bow like that for however long she pleased. 

He already seemed quite skilled. 

But this wasn’t the moment to play dog-trainer with Delta. There was nothing bolting those cuffs down, and Amira sought next to correct that. 

She reached for the chain that hung above Delta’s head—a heavy rusted thing, looped through a bolt on the ceiling. She yanked it down with a bit of force. 

“Hands above your head, Delta.” 

Don't try anything.

He did glance up now, his hands still planted on the floor where she had left them. He heard the chain clanking as it descended the ceiling. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed it earlier. He’d assumed it was industrial. Stupid. 

Slowly, leaving her time to correct him if he did it wrong, he pressed himself off of the surface of the floor. Back onto his knees.

He offered his shackled wrists to her first, then angled them slightly up, closer to the chain. They were there for her access. He had no doubt about what it was for. Would that be it? Or would she restrain him just to do something worse? He didn’t ask, no matter how badly he wanted to.

Oddly enough, he dwelled on the way she’d called him by name. It felt personal in a way he hadn’t expected.

Amira produced a heavy lock from the side of her belt and looped the open metal through the few links of chain that bound Delta’s wrist cuffs. He was almost limp, just like they’d trained him to be. Not dead weight. Just pliable, able to be maneuvered without much force. She dragged his arms by the locking mechanism all the way up to meet her other hand, and looped the lock around the chain, locking it all together with a ringing clank. 

Without a word, she approached a panel on the adjacent wall and pressed a single button. The chain began to shorten.

She was walking away. He felt a momentary surge of panic, which was not soothed by the sudden whir from the mechanism above him.

Without having been told to stand, he stayed kneeling until it became physically impossible. After that, he quickly rose up to his feet. This allowed for some slack, the tension momentarily disappearing. But the chain was still shortening. He winced slightly, subtly, as his arms were forced further up.

Amira watched him carefully. The way he let the rising chain guide his movements. The way he hesitated to stand, despite the fact that his legs were untethered. 

He let the chain pull him up entirely, like a marionette dangling from silver strands. A rag doll raised by gentle hands. 

He was beautiful. 

She stopped when she realized his feet were nearly lifted off the ground. Tiptoes. Tiptoes was fine. She’d leave him like that. 

“I trust you understand that I can’t let this stunt go unpunished.” 

Her voice was steady, her tone practiced. Every word exuded pure authority. 

“Frankly, I’ve been far too tolerant of your disrespect thus far.” She paused, eyeing him. “That ends here.”

This stunt. That’s not what it was. It wasn’t on purpose. 

“Yes, sir,” he affirmed quietly.

He didn’t think he was being disrespectful. He wasn’t trying to be. All his refusal would read as disrespect to her, wouldn’t it? 

But he didn’t argue. He was too well-trained for that.

༻✧༺

Next>

I can promise torture in the next ch!! Thats right hot fresh right out the oven torture folks!!

Sapphire Taglist: Just ask if you wanna be added or removed!

@scoundrelwithboba @floral-comet-whump @ichortwine  @paperprinxe @catnykit

@sir-fenris @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @loonybun @unorganisedalienrubbish (haha u get tagged no matter what get fuckd)

[windwardstar]

copying the tags into the post bc i can keep track better now.

#jgy would be peak 2010s transmed and respectability politics #like he would be sooo willing to throw other trans people under the bus in order to get respect himself #im a real trans person im not like those fakers please respect me#he would have so many fucked up ideas about being trans #he would be policing his gender so hard too #like he would have so much hate and fear in him #worst manifestation of the self preservation instinct #and then the stone top and refusing medical care like yeah the robes do not come off ever dude is three layers of self loathing and dysphoria #in a trench coat (robes) he just #trans jgy would have so many issues #sorry for writing a novel in the tags #i haven't gotten to writing the fic so the thoughts all came out here i guess lmao

-

Prev ALWAYS write essays in the tags #Absolute hard agree on the self hate and the willingness to throw ppl under the bus (MO XUANYU!!!!!) but here's the thing I think what he #has going on is more sinister #See I don't think he necessarily has a concept of real/fake trans people; I think he considers himself to be crossdressing #for practical reasons and how ~legitimate/successful he thinks that is waxes and wanes with how legitimate/successful his claim to his#status in general is #Due to the Themes™ #Like I don't think he's a transmed bc I don't think he thinks he has a medical condition! I think it's kind of the opposite #Where especially in context of his relationship to misogyny and what he doesn't recognize as dysphoria he's out here like #''being a woman is a nightmare and no one would choose to do it given the opportunity'' #Which of course makes him even more transmisogynist. #And he is mega stealth about it for the same reason that he's mega closeted and also trying to keep all the Crimes under wraps #Like the thing is. It truly all comes down to ''JGY wants so so so desperately so many things that he isn't supposed to have #chief among them respect and social legitimacy #and he genuinely wants them and it's a really tough problem to attempt to draw lines like where wanting to be base respected as a person #bleeds into wanting power and status and so on. And crucially he is again not supposed to have any of them and he knows he isn't #and he's reaching for them anyway.'" #So like the ability to be trans is in his head the same ability as to have social mobility in general #(Guy with a normal sense of identity) #So like it's not about faking being trans it's about faking being a man in general #Which is also why the everything else. Though u are right it is definitely the crushing dysphoria also #And also again as u said PEAK respectability politics. JGY LOVE respectability politics

-

Oh Hard agree on all of this. Canon JGY would absolutely just view it as crossdressing and impersonating and an act. There's no precedent for actually becoming a man only pretending to be (except for those transformed physically as reward to grant deserving parents a son, which is arguably all evidence of intersex existence. BUT he's not that, he's just him in an untransformed body playing the role). He's put on a costume and is just acting the part (except he wants to actually be the part, he doesn't want to take it off). It's What he DOES. He isn't anything except the role. He'd have so many reasons for justifying why he's doing it because he'd need to-- how else could he justify something so blatantly violating the gender boxes of society. How else could he justify the danger of it. Nobody can know he's not really what he says he is, it'll put him in danger, it'll ruin the illusion, they'll take everything he's worked so hard for and deserves (if they find out they'll make him stop). He has to be stealth and he'll guard that secret it as strongly as he guarded any of the canon crimes. He'd be such a tangled mess. The push and pull of his own desires and dysphoria with the awareness of all that he's violating and also the justifications for doing so. JGY whose quest for being recognized as JGS son is both gender and status.

(the transmed thing was more in relation to the fic i'm writing (with context of modern setting and modern concepts of gender and transness and feminism and etc etc etc). my brain's been stewing in the jgy thoughts for over a year now and they keep spilling out because i haven't actually gotten around to being able to write them out.)

STRAP GAME UNPRECEDENTED. PREY ANIMAL FEAR AT LEVELS NEVER BEFORE RECORDED. Anyway this is #mytruth and also I’m calling this my JGY birthday art Happy birthday a-Yao you transphobic transgender icon

[welpuu]

Do you want to get into ALIEN STAGE but don't know how?

Introducing the Intro to ALIEN STAGE Masterdoc! I've compiled the MVs + lore relevant or older official media for you to better understand the story :) (among other things)

please share this around if you need to :)

please note that I did all of this alone so might be a few mistakes in release orders and other things 💀

Please please feel free to suggest things that I can add or fix

I tried to give the feeling I had when I was waiting for each release and lore drop in real time

also there isn't any like purely wholesome or miscellaneous art that doesn't have any lore/tidbits or foreshadowing attached to it on here because I feel like you can find those on your own after seeing everything else

*aside from actor au because that's its own thing now

comics are a little different but most of them are important so i put most

Edit: I also decided to add the promo images of each round

Edit 2: birthday arts added

[camellcat]

school hard is my most rewatched episode by a mile and it always makes me forget how the fuck sprusilla could ever possibly break up. they're SO good they're perfect to me here. despite the fact dru clearly isn't doing well they still feel like equals. spike is choosing to take care of her because he loves her, he adores her, and it shows. dru loves his attentions and loves giving them right back as best she can

and hey I see the spuffy even this early on and I love the spuffy.... but without dru?? ur telling me dru leaves later??? there'll be no dru???? that's just wrong

[coolnonsenseworld]

A little promo with my little obsession on the side...........

Reminder all items are shipped from Poland - for details on shipping times check out FAQ or send me a private message!

 mmezzy.bigcartel.com

[i-am-l-ananas]

just because your peers are reaching “life milestones” before you doesn’t mean you’re falling behind in life. You’re not behind in life. You’re not you’re not you’re not you’re not and maybe someday you’ll believe it

[worlds-least-responsible]

//okay so usually i'm not one to comment on the mw fandom and i tend to stay veeerryyy far from discourse because I Don't Like That but the ableism here is insane?? yes i'm looking at you lobotomized jimmy au what the actual fuck .

i'm not one to throw a hissy fit about how people like perceiving characters and interpreting stories but i just saw a post about that earlier and i was horrified honestly. i don't care if it's a joke or whatever, that is nasty and you should definitely get a lesson on history to see what a lobotomy ACTUALLY is and what it does do a person. i'm already icky on the whole jimmy has schizophrenia thing but this is just another level of wild. speaking from someone who is also mentally ill themselves not only is this harmful to people with symptoms like jimmy's but it's also so fucking dehumanizing??

jimmy isn't a bad person because he's mentally ill- jimmy is a bad person because he knowingly engaged in making horrible decisions and Did Not Take Responsibility. he kept digging himself a bigger grave instead of attempting to take change. first it was the curly situation and now this.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

Hi? Gosh how do I even start with this :'D

I know it's been ages since I've last popped up on here. I've been debating when to post this for a while, but I kept adding to my draft more and more and now it's the end of JULY omgg I felt so guilty disappearing with zero updates but then thought my birthday would be the best day to finally address this considering it'll feel less random? idk but Ive always celebrated my bday with you guys and I'd feel so bad answering your kind asks without me at least explaining why I was gone for months.

Truth be told, I was dealing with a lot of stuff irl. health issues and sudden declining grades that left me stumped and drained for months now- along with technical issues like having to replace some parts of my computer that took a while for me to find to even draw digitally, which I didn't have the time for anyway with how tired and weary I felt every day.

I'm frankly shaken up by a lot of shit rn and I don't know how to be active online with this burden on my chest- Especially as it's been a while since I've even looked at utmv related content and my motivation dwindled. I swear I'd hype myself up to post or reblog something- but I'd see just how much I've missed or the overwhelming amount of posts I'd need to go through and I'd feel so swamped with exhaustion and most importantly guilt, for not clearing the air up sooner to reassure you guys that I'm, y'know, alive, and not dead in a ditch somewhere. And I'd procrastinate cause typing it all out is hard and I'd give up halfway every time and it's just not fair to you all!

I thought I was handling it well when I started going out and socializing more, instead of staying cooped up at home on my computer all day. and in the first draft of this post I made months ago I was gonna detail some of the fun plans I had, for my life and for this blog :D but relaxing my strict study schedule and letting go a bit of my tight routine, thinking it was better than wringing myself dry to keep it up, backfired horribly, to say the least.

I know right?? so silly to be hung up on stupid shit like studies of all things! but this is a very important thing for me considering my career plans and the competitivity encouraged by everyone I'm surrounded by, the pressure of keeping up adding to my already stressful days. I had to fix myself up first and I couldn't handle the strain nor interact with people and thinking of jobs and exams sapped my energy so much it's frankly embarrassing. writing this feels so cheesy too and it frustrates me to know I could've come back a month earlier if it weren't for that, but I also know putting all of this into words then would just sound like incoherent venting (not that this is very different tbf) and I wasn't in the right headspace to address my absence, or anything really- I didn't want everyone to see me return when I couldn't muster up a genuinely positive message, let alone talk to anyone with a shadow of my usual cheer

I feel like a complete mess and It drives me up the wall how depressed I've gotten. I debated deleting this blog so many times 'cause the fear of disappointing my audience and my friends, for lack of a more fitting sentiment, made me feel even shittier. I'm constantly thinking if this wall of text is worth posting, or if it's better not to burden you all with all my sappy troubles as if it's the end of the world. Trust me, I'll be fine. I'm not trying to dramatize this situation, but I don't think I'm up to pretending I'm all sunshine and enthusiasm you're all accustomed to.

So sorry for worrying you all! I'll try to catch up, deliver some missed birthday gifts, and answer some asks while I'm at it! Again, I can't state how much I appreciate your support throughout the years. It's frankly a miracle I kept any of you around with how much I keep popping and leaving at random with no warning. I definitely can't promise for my stay to be without a hitch, and if you don't mind an inconsistent schedule you're free to stay of course, but I'm afraid I can't sustain the pace I had when I first started this blog. I'll keep posting art, but lower my activity in the fandom sphere to reduce the strain on my mental health. so fewer rants and walls of text, more art, and less stress overall. Love you all and thanks for waiting for this long <3

[thegreatyin]

How did you manage to handle not one, but FOUR separate accounts in fl? I recently made the account for my HD little guy but having to do the tutorial again just seems miserable

there's... weirdly several answers to that question, actually??

a HUGE part of it is due to the way FL is structured. the 10-minute action timer is a core part of the game on a fundamental level, and the fact that i can very easily run out of stuff to do on one character and thus have an excuse to quickly and easily swap to another is just... convenient? satisfying? i'm not entirely sure how to explain it. the fact that i can make progress even while i am fundamentally simultaneously Not Making Progress is like pure dopamine for my freak insane awful little brain. there's just something really pleasing about spending all of my actions pursuing The Goal Of The Day™ on one account before casually swapping to another and doing the same without feeling like i'm wasting time or acting to the first account's explicit detriment. the downtime helps! the recharge time helps! the structure really really works!!

i'm technically only actively playing three, maybe two accounts minimum. the only reason the fourth (the one that'll be my future BaL playthrough) currently exists at all is so i can get his earlygame completely out of the way now and not have to waste time running through it all later, when what i actually want to do is play the ambition i've made myself wait a full year to play. and also getting free goodies as seasonal stuff happens,, something something surprise tools to help us later. the only two accounts i'd say i'm really "actively playing" at the moment are caeru and lark- and of the two, lark takes the most priority, since his ambition is the one i'm currently pursuing in earnest. for a couple months now- despite being My Main FL Character- the scoundrel has actually been pretty inactive on a gameplay front outside of the occasional progression in TLC and discordance content. purely by virtue of having Very little left to do outside of Very long-term grinds and vanities. they're in their "now what?" "now you can start playing the game" era. they've graduated to previous protagonist background cameo in a sequel anime series. they're like the yin FLPC equivalent of red at the top of mount silver. they're Literally just vibing rn. i only keep posting about them regardless because i'm insane and i will never ever ever ever ever let that bat go. but yeah, big TLDR, outside of doing the bare minimum to keep making waves/notability up every week, i'm not actually spending that much time on accounts i'm not currently actively interested in playing. and that accounts for way more gaming spoons than you might think.

i have a virtually lifelong history of playing MMOs, especially and specifically world of warcraft. i was born in the endless grind for useless video game pixel vanities and/or bragging rights. molded by it. you all have merely adapted to doing the same piece of content a pointlessly excessive amount of times for literally no reason besides whimsy and folly. me? i've done my time. i've served my sentence. i've spent weeks doing the original burning crusade netherwing dailies. i've devoted days to running praetorium over and over and over again, back-to-back, nonstop, long before square enix cut it in half and made it NOT take at minimum an hour and a half per run. i've perfected my silverwastes + auric basin goldfarming strategies. i've (almost) crafted dragonwrath tarecgosa's rest. i've killed the sha of anger so many times its dying scream of agony is embedded into the very fabric of my being. ""only"" doing making your name content four times over? that is nothing to me. it means nothing to me. it is so infinitesimal i can do the persuasive seduction quests in my sleep. it's not a matter of handling misery, or having the capacity, or even sighing as i remember the brass embassy raid segment of the watchful questline seriously i don't know why i keep forgetting that exists or what even is my problem with it i just am so consistently mildly inconvenienced by it and its highly specific resource requirements and it is the worst thing ever. maybe i'm just so used to the scoundrel's near-infinite money and troves of disposable items that i've completely forgotten what being poor is like. despite having done that step 3 fucking times now. ahem. anyway. i have transcended the feeble mortal bindings of my resistant-to-grinding flesh and ascended to a higher plane of enlightenment, they may call me insane but they will be the ones left laughing when they see what that "insanity" has wrought, i've usurped them, i've usurped them all-

hacks and coughs and awkwardly clears my throat. i mean. uh. um. Ahem.

the empress' court artistry + tales of the university nerfs helped too.

[deoidesign]

I’m a trans man that recently got diagnosed with hyper mobile eds, so now seeing Steve makes me extra happy, because cool disabled ftm rep. Thanks for making the radical dude bro, he’s funky.

same disability (waving hand emoji)

Always extremely fulfilling to know my work makes people happy in some small way, it means a lot. Thank you for sharing with me