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#and 2) you need to do them. its missing important events you needed to go to and important things you needed to do

msafterhours · 29 days

Text

Saccharine | Act Two

Male Reader x (G)I-DLE Yuqi

[Act 1] Act 2 (~14.7k words) [Act 3]

Note: this is not intended as a standalone story. If you haven’t already read Act One, I’d highly recommend doing so before reading further so that you don’t miss out on important context.

As the dawn of the final day of 2021 breaks over the horizon, you finish acquiring the answer to your earlier inquiry. Apparently, nothing awaits, as for the first time in a long while, swaths of darkness have been painted over your hours of slumber. It’s been a stark contrast, even compared to the mundane manifestations that have previously filled insignificant periods. Especially for a mind as active as yours, it’s become an unwelcome disruption to your expected existence, plunging you into a deep fatigue that you’ve been unable to shake. And to top it all off, another disruption awaits you upon awakening—this time landing squarely in your inbox.

ASong4You: I’m going to be with Soyeon the whole broadcast, so if we’re going to meet up again, it’ll have to be at or after the afterparty ASong4You: Should I look for you somewhere?

For as much as she dislikes being called cute, it’s honestly adorable how straight she’s playing this. As if it’s completely normal to have someone make you see stars upon the first time meeting them in person. But the truth of how rattled she is reveals itself in the vulnerability she’s exposed. So, you might as well pretend to play along. Somewhat.

TurnThePage: Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s easy to find me at the afterparty TurnThePage: We’ll see how it goes from there

The read notification acts as enough of a response for you, and you close the app. Until a realization hits and you reopen it.

TurnThePage: Also bring me my fucking scarf

You see another read receipt and the beginnings of a message, but then, a pause. You immediately know; you can hear the laughter she’s undoubtedly doubled over with—the memory echoing in your mind clearer than the chirps of the birds outside your window.

ASong4You: Fuck no, this thing’s comfy as hell TurnThePage: THAT’S THE POINT ASong4You: Alright fine, but only if you ask nicely

You nearly do as she asks, but pride jumps in front of the word “please” in your mental dictionary and refuses to allow you access. So—just like you’ve always done—you pivot.

TurnThePage: What if I come gift wrapped with a little bow on top

This time, the memory echoes resonate through your mind long before your phone vibrates with a response. The clarity is borderline concerning, but you cast it aside as you return to her response.

ASong4You: Then you just might get me to do as you ask TurnThePage: I still don’t get why I have to do something to get my stuff back ASong4You: To be fair you never had to give me it in the first place TurnThePage: To be fair, they’re still there, aren’t they?

Read? Yes.

Replied to? Of course not. All you’re left with is a protracted silence that paints a picture worth a thousand words.

TurnThePage: You know what, maybe just keep it for now TurnThePage: You never know when you might need it, especially at this time of year … ASong4You: I swear to god I’m going to give you bruises that’ll make mine look like fingerprints in comparison TurnThePage: Wouldn’t want it any other way.

What a way to start the morning. Your routine passes by in a flash, leaving you facing a familiar screen and the unfamiliar dilemma of what to do with a few hours of free time. Your mind casts itself back to her earlier statement and her plans for the day, inspiring an idea that influences your plans for its remainder. While you may have professional obligations at this event, there’s no reason you can’t benefit from some personal profits along the way. So, you send a few quick emails that net quicker responses, and from there, you’re off to the races. You stockpile a selection of questions, feebly attempting to justify this personal project’s importance, and, a few hours later, you leave. Well ahead of schedule; just in case.

You arrive alone, head held high as you greet the familiar security staff who wave you right on by. This time, you're more selective in your choice of targets—more specific in the questions you ask them. You keep the conversations short, just barely long enough to glean the necessary information without claiming a spot amongst their memories of the night. No more than an hour passes before you know exactly where every performer will be and when they'll be there, affording you clarity on where you want to be and where you need to avoid.

Your efficiency is quickly rewarded as once again, even though you have hours until the broadcast goes live, the performers begin arriving in droves. With your opportunity fast approaching, you tap into the vast repository of knowledge you’ve gleaned over the past couple of years and make a few stops along the way towards your destination. Once your hands are full of items that you know idols tend to request during waiting periods—water, fans, phone chargers, etc.—you step into the waiting room reserved for an absolute all-star lineup of idols tonight.

One by one by two by one they arrive until ultimately you’re flanked by five. Some of the hottest faces in the industry—figuratively and literally—sit around the table with you, shining brighter than spotlights as you all share war stories and discuss the year in retrospect. Hwang Yeji, leader of ITZY, is happy to share about her members’ Christmas craziness and her own ambitious New Year’s resolutions. Kim Minju, Music Core host and alleged actress, shares about her particular difficulty facing the struggles that all the IZ*ONE members must be feeling post disbandment. An Yujin and Jang Wonyoung, maknaes of the aforementioned group and mega stars of their new one IVE, provide their own insights on the struggles and successes of the past year of their lives. But it’s the sixth member of the conversation you have the most questions for. Because Cho Miyeon is the one who sits alongside you as you ask her question after question about the time spent since she last stood under the spotlight seven months ago.

Under this pretense of an interview—some project about this year being the liberation from lockdowns and what it means to those with fans around the world—you foster familiarity and fondness in the hearts of these fellow aspirants, these industry peers that a fool might allow themselves to call “friends”. Your initial questions are precise, measured, and specifically aimed towards achieving one goal in particular: endearing yourself to the ally of your enemy before your date with the devil. Even as the performers come and go, changing outfits and patiently sitting until their perfect faces are painted enough to be “presentable”, you keep the conversation alive. At first, you keep the flame lit with convenient kindling, sharing stories you’ll happily let leave this room and asking questions you prepared well in advance. However, the group’s congregation precedes two hours of waiting for the broadcast to begin—and that’s not even mentioning the two or so more that’ll pass before they’re scheduled to go on stage. In an effort to hold back the darkness, your stories become less selective and secrets begin to slip past your lips amidst the sea of words pouring out from all involved. You respond to a question about how you choose the topics to write about, then add on an explanation of how you choose what not to write. From there, the conversation shifts, and Yeji ends up sharing a dream that’s been haunting her—one about love and loss and the end of life. You share your sympathies and nearly get far more specific about your own experiences before you catch yourself and course correct, leading the conversation elsewhere. The IVE duo puts forth quite the interesting tale of adapting to dorm life with their new quartet of members and the difficulties of rewriting their tendencies from living with the IZ*ONE members. Once again, you share a similar story and then a bit more, telling of your own shock when your editor had recently been fired and the difficulties of finding a suitable replacement. Not every thread of conversation ends up involving you, but many do, leaving you with an ever-shrinking suite of “safe” stories to share. It truly is a lovely interview. It's also the least important reason you're there.

You’re fascinated by how the conversation ebbs and flows, especially as Yeji leaves for her group’s performance and the IVE duo departs twice to do the same. It leaves you with further opportunity to inject a deeper sense of intimacy into the conversation, inviting the others to join you in confiding your concerns. Minju seems all too happy to oblige in one such moment, divulging to you and Miyeon the depths of her fears of irrelevancy in an industry so cutthroat—especially with a future so unclear. Before you can even begin to offer a response, Miyeon—someone who’s had no need to initiate a conversation due to the frequency of questions directed towards her—speaks up, sharing her own struggles in the aftermath of Soojin’s departure. You offer her the respect of absolute silence as she reassures Minju, revealing the significance of the impact losing only a single member had on her and empathizing with Minju’s struggles in facing a similar feeling but with such greater magnitude. It strikes you suddenly how precarious the platform of popularity must be for these rising stars to feel such fear in the face of the unknowns awaiting them on the other side of midnight. Once the magnitude of the moment has lessened, you offer what empty empathy you can before deciding on a more tangible course of action: deleting the recording, erasing the entirety of three hours of a potential transcript in an attempt to protect their privacy. Both immediately offer their genuine gratitude as they look to you with shock clearly visible in their eyes, refusing to allow you to diminish the significance even as you put forth a paltry attempt to brush it off with a claim that you can use some old recordings or something. Eventually, you all drop it and move on, even if they don’t share your reason for doing so. They never realize why you’re so willing to lie, why you couldn’t care less about the recording. Only you truly know that you’ll never be able to forget this conversation.

In hindsight, you'll find it funny how everything unfolded. Coming in, you intended to be memorable. You wanted to be likable. You needed Miyeon to smile upon hearing your name. In all aspects of your planning, you succeeded. You just never accounted for the effect she'd have on you.

The missing trio returns shortly after, and the conversation thankfully returns fully to simpler topics, allowing you a brief respite. You can’t help but let your posture slip as well, resting your head on the back of the couch as your body slumps to the side. It isn’t until you feel the couch shift slightly that you realize you’ve halved the distance between you and Miyeon, who seems to adjust her own position on the couch. But she doesn’t pull away. She moves closer … just slightly. Not enough to close the gap, but enough to tease the possibility. Even for you, someone so perfect at performing the part you need to play, it’s enticing—even more so when considering the events of the past week. With your current position atop the peak of anticipation, a strong breeze could be more than enough to unseat you, and instead there’s a raging storm of possibility seated less than a meter away from you, demanding you detour away from your current path. Somehow, you manage to resist your urges, reminding yourself you’ve come too far to divert from the opportunity at the end of the tunnel. As tempting of an unknown as Miyeon might be, you know you’ll never forgive yourself if you miss out on the opportunity to know her.

What is it about her that leaves you desperately investing time and effort into figuring it out?

How does she seem to have the most specific comments at the most opportune times?

Why the fuck is Song Yuqi the reason you can’t sleep at night?

Regardless, it ultimately matters little, as it’s minutes later when you rejoin the conversation and less than an hour before the quintet is called to get ready to perform. You stand as well, offering them thanks for their time and well-wishes for their performance before mirroring their hopes to see each other at the afterparty. Miyeon is the last to leave, reaching back to close the door and holding your eyes for two moments longer than you’d expect before shutting it and leaving you alone.

-x-

Roughly ten minutes later, their performance comes on the broadcast and you enjoy the f(x) homage before quickly tuning out upon its conclusion. With another two hours to go before the broadcast’s end and the subsequent mass exodus to the hotel hosting the afterparty, you concede to your fatigue and decide to rest your eyes. One set alarm later, the world around you fades and you drift off into the darkness. Upon your arrival in dreamland, you’re surprised at the darkness’ refusal to disperse, leaving you blind within an expanse of eruptions. On one side of you, you can hear the crashing of lightning as a thunderstorm rains down its wrath, while on the other, you can hear the crackle of flame as it spreads and ignites vast swathes of this obscured landscape. No matter where you try to look or turn, the dueling elements match your movements, perfectly mirroring one another as they come ever closer. Just as you’re about to melt under their might, you are quite literally saved by the bell as your alarm clock rouses you back into reality.

Only five minutes of the broadcast before the real party starts. Literally. You stand, stretch, then step out of the room riddled with remnants of secrets shared over the past six or so hours. Within the halls of the venue, you can hear the voices of the groups as they sing their final performance of 2021, leaving you alone among the staff and solo performers. Solo performers like Miyeon, whose gaze immediately captivates you as she confidently closes the distance.

“Hey you. How’s it going?”

“Doing good, kinda just still getting my bearings after waking up,” you answer, intentionally letting a yawn escape to sell the point. “What about you?”

“Well, I was looking for Soyeon, but I think my other members might have left a long time ago. Maybe I’ll see them at the afterparty but … wait, did you say waking up? What have you been doing for the past two hours?” Miyeon asks, jealousy spreading across her face as she arches a judgemental eyebrow.

You put forth your best sheepish expression as you explain, “Ah, gotcha. But, uh, yeah … I watched your performance—you were amazing by the way—and then decided to take a nap. It’s been a long day, so catching up for a couple of hours was very helpful.”

Miyeon’s eyes roll and arms cross as she scoffs, “Lucky you, I’m still exhausted!”

“I mean, I’ve heard caffeine can’t fix everything,” you say, teeing up your suggestion as you capture her eyes once more. “But it’s definitely worth a shot.”

“Or two,” she immediately adds, smiling in a way you can’t help but mirror. “You think anywhere’s going to be open tonight?”

“Speaking as a self-aware coffee addict myself,” you dramatically declare. “I’m absolutely sure someone was smart enough to stay open and cater to those in desperate need.”

You feel the corners of your lips climb up your cheeks as her eyes light up, brighter than a flash of lightning as she responds, “God, I hope you’re right! Then let’s go; you want a ride?”

“Of course, after you! We’ve been here for far too long.”

Your conversation from before resumes seamlessly, allowing you to speculate with her about the inevitable insanity that’s sure to define the upcoming countdown. From within the tinted windows of the company car you can see the last nightfall of 2021, a year you’ll define by shadows and the lights that cast them. It’s borderline hilarious how backwards this entire year has seemed, with your capitalization on lockdowns leading to terminally online fans thrusting you into the spotlight while (G)I-DLE’s scandal forced them to take a step back into the darkness. Some might take this opportunity to reflect, maybe even celebrate their growth and accomplishments; you know, ask the world to give them their flowers or something. Not you. You’d rather guarantee tomorrow’s bloom by spending today sowing seeds. So, you make absolutely sure to get Miyeon’s drink order right before you run inside and order the trio of drinks. One for you, one for Miyeon, and one for her manager. Just in case, because you’ll never know when you’ll need to cash in on the priceless value of a good word.

Later—a week, month, year from now—you won’t remember the words shared in the back seat of the car chauffeuring you to the hotel. Some matter, more than usual, but none of them resonate soundly enough to derail the train of thought chugging along through your mind: why does Miyeon, this wonderful girl who smells faintly of roses and whose cheeks get rosy pink near the end of her drink, tolerate her transgressions? You want nothing more than to ask, but you keep your cards close to your chest, knowing that now isn’t the time to reveal your hand. You’ve come too far to risk going all in now.

You need not test your patience for long, for shortly after your brief diversion, you hit a cluster of traffic outside the hotel—an impeccable indicator of your intended timing. Even from a distance, you can see the ever-shifting stream of stars shuffling into the hotel’s lobby, where you’re sure that a whole galaxy of partygoers awaits within. Almost immediately, you shift the conversation towards the delicacies on display, getting Miyeon’s perspective on her peers and their approach to parties. On one hand, it’s fascinating getting insights directly from someone within the ecosystem rather than interpreting the ripples that reach the edges of the pond. On the other, it creates the exact kind of conversation you’d hoped to inspire—a cautious yet fervent discussion of many of the quiet things everyone’s dying to say aloud. And with a significant number of idols across a multitude of generations congregating in the area, you have plenty of kindling to keep the passionate conversation ablaze, all the way through the line of cars and even up to the entrance itself.

You arrive together, head down slightly as you whisper back and forth with Miyeon, continuing your soft scrutiny of the other arrivals. Once inside, even though there’s a sea of individuals milling about, your eyes immediately find your intended target. Near one of the back left doors out of the main hall stands the only person who matters—a short little blonde wearing a cute black dress and an expression so shocked you’re surprised the whole building hasn’t short circuited. You find satisfaction in the surprise in her eyes as she desperately attempts to process your arrival. In that stunned countenance, in the vulnerability visible, you find your victory. You find the moment you’ve dedicated the entire final day of the year to. Now to find a drink.

After bidding Miyeon a fond farewell and wishing her luck in finding her other group members, you take your leave and begin wading through the crowd, intent on reaching a high-visibility area. You can't even make it over to the punch table before her hand is clasped around your throat.

No words are spoken. None are necessary. You knew the implication of your actions. You knew full well the exact contents of the message you'd send by arriving with another member of her group. And as you look down at her, you're met by the fire in her eyes burning bright blue, hotter than you've ever seen. Her seething expression presents a question. Your shameless smile presents your own. Somewhere along this charged connection between you two, a spark ignites the fuse. There's no backing out now.

It's only a matter of time before you two burn this whole damned building to the ground.

“Hey, glad you could make it,” you say, as if this whole situation were the most casual thing in the world.

“Just for once, won’t you fucking listen?” she asks, pulling her hand away and balling it into a fist as her voice drops dangerously low. “I know you think you have your reasons for hating me and I’ll even concede that some of them might be valid, but you have no reason to hurt her or any of my friends. So fuck off.”

You don't offer a response—at least not directly. You brush past her, gesturing for her to follow as you make your way towards your original destination: the bar and, most importantly, away from the center of the crowd.

Your tone is hushed as you speak, drawing her closer to you. It’s not a visual you’re especially fond of, but a necessary sacrifice in the name of privacy. “I’m not gonna stand here and lie to you by saying that my reasons for talking with Miyeon are entirely altruistic,” you concede, pausing for a moment as you smile at the bartender and give him your order. “But I am speaking the truth when I say I have no intentions of letting her get caught in the crossfire. Unlike some, I’m considerate enough to keep innocents from getting involved.”

You turn back and witness her reaction, drinking in the delicious disbelief as she declares, “How dare you! I give everything to make sure they’re not affected by my actions!”

Someone else might have believed her, but you know better. “What about the audio tech you punched while filming with your members?”

You find another flash of vulnerability in her eyes, but in a blink, it disappears, hidden behind her defenses. “That was the third shoot in a row he’d made a mistake and clearly he wasn’t listening to the previous warnings!”

“And the outfit you ripped in half mere hours before performing?” you ask, taking your drink from the bartender and sliding him a fair bit more than its cost. You give him a certain type of smile and he nods in recognition, swearing silence and allowing you to dedicate the entirety of your attention to the interrogation at hand as you resume walking towards the fringes of the lobby.

“The stylist showed up hungover with multiple botched outfits for our first ever awards show!” she fires back as she follows close behind.

Another sip. Another step. Anything to create some semblance of distance away from the crowd. “And the CUBE employee guidelines? The list of rules that every new hire needs to know in order to protect themselves from you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she huffs, but the sudden hurt in her eyes reveals the truth behind her lies.

“Alright, I’m sure you have plenty of excuses ready, but I think you’re intentionally avoiding the obvious question,” you say, stretching out the silence with another slow swig from the glass as you continue to walk. “Don’t you think that the best way to protect your friends from collateral damage is by not causing it in the first place?”

Her eyes avert once more, refusing to acknowledge you or the truth. “It’s not that simple. Just—god fucking damnit—please don’t rope her into this. I don’t know who’s told you those stories or what they’ve told you, but …”

She trails off suddenly, cut short by the singsong sounds of a familiar friend’s words on the wind. For once, you have no trouble finding her eyes as both of you tense upon hearing Miyeon’s voice in the crowd, moving in your direction.

“Well, it’s been fun, but I know that she’s looking for you, so—”

“I’m not done with you yet.” Her voice cuts in, ending your sentence as her eyes sweep across the room, scouring the sea of stars as she searches for the voice in question. “You’re coming with me—I’ve been here before and I know somewhere private we can finish this conversation.”

You raise your hands in mock surrender, smiling wide as you respond, “Very well, princess. Lead the way.”

“Do not fucking call me that,” she growls, grabbing your arm and all but dragging you towards a pair of nondescript doors amongst many others decorating the wall. Her surprising strength aside, you’re happy to oblige, following in her footsteps as the proximity lets you catch a whiff of something unfamiliar on the lips you’d so closely acquainted yourself with. With a sudden realization, you receive an unspoken answer to the question of what she’d been doing prior to your arrival; you discover what’s fueling the fire behind her eyes. You realize that she’s running on liquid courage as she quietly opens the door and pushes you inside. All the bright lights fade as she slips past and the door closes behind you, plunging you both into darkness.

Your mind’s still working in overdrive as you stand in the darkness, but as you place your drink down and break the silence, you can’t help but test just how long her fuse truly is. “Really, a supply closet? Could you get more cliché?”.

Even before she turns on the light—even before she turns and you see the fire in her eyes—you know your words have acted as a final spark just based on her posture alone. Because she does turn on the light and she does turn to face you. But she doesn’t look at you the same way. You’re no longer the threat you might have been ten minutes ago. No, when she looks at you now, she wears the cruel confidence of a huntress ready to strike. Guess who that leaves to play the part of the prey.

“Here’s the fucking problem.” A single step forward, shortening the gap between you two. “You have so much shit to answer for …” Another, and she’s halfway to you. “But I’m so fucking sick of hearing you talk.” Once more, and you have to hold your breath to keep from fanning the flames of the inferno looking up at you. “So I’m gonna make you forget every sob story you’ve heard about me.” She continues, pushing her body against yours until you’re backed up against the wall. “Because I’m not the Disney villain they make me out to be …” Her hand wraps around the back of your head, pulling you close as she whispers in your ear, “I’m so much fucking worse.”

Her fangs flash for a moment before plunging into the side of your neck, nearly piercing your flesh as she hungrily sucks at your skin. Immediately, your hands latch onto her sides, desperate for any semblance of a tether to reality as your adrenaline skyrockets and your head spins. You try to snake a hand up her shirt—try to find some possibility of going on the offensive—but she immediately pounces, smacking it away as her own hands start exploring.

“Oh, not so tough now that I’ve got you right where I want you, hm?” she taunts, denying your ability to catch your breath or muster a response as she crashes her lips against yours. It’s so unlike you to be caught without an answer—so unlike you to be the one without a plan. Last time, things were under your control, but this time, any inhibitions you might have expected her to carry seem to have been left at the door. This time, she’s the one with hands up your shirt, scratching and clawing and exploring every centimeter of the chest that contains your pounding heart. Your hands shift down, finding a perfect fit as you cup the curve of her ass and lean into the kiss. The sweetness of cherry clashes with the familiar burn of hard liquor, adding to the endless list of sensations vying for your attention.

Your eyes finally snap open as her lips unlatch from yours and her hands pull away, allowing you the briefest of moments to inhale some much-needed oxygen. Even in her silence, you feel her emotions emanating throughout the room. Temptation. Jubilation. Vexation. Exhilaration. Oh, and lust. So much fucking lust. All it takes is the tiniest raise of her eyebrows and a hint of a smirk to fuel the flames as she sinks to her knees. There’s a dark edge to her words as her eyeline meets your beltline and she chuckles, “Wow … looks like someone’s excited to see me.”

You can’t help but let out a small laugh of your own as you wonder how you’ve let things get this far. It’s you. It’s her. It’s the fact that you’re about to do this in a fucking storage closet of all places. The fact that you managed to survive meeting her and still came back for more. None of the choices that’ve led you to this moment have been correct, but you’re already flying Bad Decision Airlines, so why not fly first class? “Aren’t there more important things that mouth should be doing?”

Her eyes roll with the poise of a practiced gymnast as she deftly unbuckles your belt and unbuttons the top of your slacks. The ungodly glint in her eyes gleams once more as she leans forward and captures the zipper between her teeth, dragging it down as she looks up at you with wicked intent. Go ahead, you hear through unspoken words. Keep pretending like you’re in control—like you’re not putty in my hands.

Your pants hit the floor, and you’re concerningly convinced that your pride’s soon to follow. Her hands glide up your legs, ghosting over your calves and teasing your thighs before snaking their way inside the underwear your cock has been straining against since you first laid eyes on her. Immediately upon contact, you can’t help but shiver. Not because of the cold—that’d be impossible with this much heat in the room. It’s the culmination of the anticipation that’s been building within you all week, no, for months now. If not longer. … Definitely longer.

And it’s all been leading up to this: your cock pulsing with anticipation as she drags your underwear down and takes it in her hands, letting her warm breath wash over it as her tongue runs over her lips and she reaches out to—

You both freeze, locking eyes. She sees the conflict in your eyes. You see the concern in hers. You both stop—separating as she rises from the ground and you get dressed in a hurry—because you both heard the same songbird from before, this time singing your name as she searches through the crowd.

“What. The. Fuck.” Her not-quite-question hangs in the air, acting as accusation, bewilderment, chagrin, distrust—nearly a whole alphabet of bad vibes—all at once.

You raise your hands in the air, attempting to act innocent for once. “Hey, I wouldn’t lie to you.” Obviously, that’s a lie and it slips seamlessly off your tongue. “I had no ill intentions when getting to know Miyeon better and growing our professional friendship.” That’s a lie too. “I was genuinely enjoying talking with her.” That one … isn’t?

Ultimately, her skepticism never leaves, but she forces herself to do so. After taking a quick peek out of the door, she slips out, rejoining the ever-shifting mess of a crowd that continues to speak so many words while saying so little.

-x-

Shortly after—specifically after finishing your drink—you do the same, sneaking out and finally joining the New Year’s Eve party in earnest. You rub shoulders with a couple managers, compliment the dress of a soloist, and even round out the numbers for one group’s drinking game.

Once you finally step back and return to the periphery to get a refill, you get a wonderful view of the lobby and the celebration of the industry you’ve spent the past four years trying to conquer. Surface level analysis would likely call it beautiful; those with a bit more insight might point out the darker components that keep the machine running smoothly. But as entrenched as you are, you know the truth can be found somewhere between the two extremes. Nights like tonight, where the honest truths spoken earlier drown out the honeyed lies you hear all around you, remind you that the pressure exerted by the spotlight on these young stars surrounding you can produce truly resplendent diamonds. And looking out across the floor, it brings a smile to your face to see so many shining so brightly.

It’s just such a fucking shame that leverage is only found in the darkest rooms of the penthouse suite. As much as you’d like to linger on the line of thought, a familiar flash of brilliant blonde in the corner of your eye cuts it short. A quick glance confirms your suspicions: it’s a bad idea led by the best of intentions.

“Hey, you,” a bubbly voice calls to you.

“Oh, hey Miyeon,” you say, allowing the warm smile to naturally develop even as you struggle to silence your internal screaming. “How're you?”

“I'm good, glad I finally found you!” she exclaims, shining brightly as ever. “What’ve you been up to, enjoying the party so far?”

“Oh, you know. Mostly just making the rounds, getting to know people better. Listening to their jokes, laughing at most of them while finding few of them funny,” you say, sharing a shocking number of words for them all to be true. “What about you?”

“I found my pseudo-siblings! It’s always nice to catch up with Sana and Jiwon, especially since it’s been a little while since a big in-person event like this has happened,” Miyeon explains, smile unwavering even as you see her mind cast back to the past two years. “But all that aside, I wanted to introduce you to my groupmate and very close friend, Yuqi.”

Your eyes lock. Your breath catches as your throat dries up. Somewhere in the background, the music shifts to a slower song and you can even swear that the lighting changes slightly, casting a golden glow on her face. Maybe it’s all just your imagination.

What’s undeniably real is the smirk she wears so well, silently presenting you with a question even as the arch of your eyebrow presents your own. For once, she drapes herself in shockingly steady confidence, causing you to almost feel proud of how well she’s hiding the shared history between you two. This time she’s the one who shatters the brief silence, bowing slightly as she says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’ve heard nothing but good things.”

You mirror her bow, painting on your own smile as you respond, “The pleasure’s all mine; I’ve heard so much about you too. How’ve you been enjoying the party so far?”

You watch as her smirk widens, showing hints of the predatory smile she wore not too long ago. There’s no stopping your own expression as it morphs to mirror hers. Both of you know full well how much danger you’re putting yourselves in—how little subtlety there is to the game you’re playing. Each of you toes the line of letting slip your little secret, but neither of you seems to care. Instead, she simply says, “Oh, it’s been fine so far. Uneventful compared to what’s coming.”

“Indeed,” you volley back. “This is my first time at one of these New Year’s parties. Do you know if there’s usually a big event around midnight?”

“Isn’t there always?” Yuqi asks, chuckling incredulously as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Some people definitely stick around for the countdown,” Miyeon explains, her smile warm and welcoming.

“And the others?” you ask, clearly offering the bait for Yuqi to pounce on if she so desires. But she’s not the one to do so.

“There’s a reason the invitations suggested booking a room in advance,” Miyeon adds, allowing the implication to hang in the air as hints of humor find a home in her smile.

“Then I should be glad I’m so good at following directions,” you jest, refusing to grant Yuqi the satisfaction of allowing her to stare into your soul as you hold Miyeon’s gaze.

“Indeed,” you hear Yuqi growl from behind surely gritted teeth. “It’s so nice to come to one of these parties and not have to worry about unexpected circumstances.”

“Normally I’d agree,” you begin, finally flashing a genuine smile in her direction. “But what better time to have fun than tonight?”

“Fun?” she echoes, ghosts of a smile teasing the corners of her lips as her competitive spirit rises once more. It’s impossible to miss the unspoken challenge in her words; she’s daring you to define your definition of fun, like she’s dying to know if it matches hers.

"Isn't that what these parties are about?" you reply evenly, ever the professional. "A chance to let loose without the scrutiny of the public eye."

Her laugh is hollow and haughty as she shakes her head, seemingly in disbelief at your response. “You’ve clearly never been to one of these parties before.”

“Even the tiniest of leaks is too much of a risk for everyone here,” Miyeon explains amiably. “Too much to lose, nowhere near enough to gain.”

“At least not on this floor,” you add, allowing the unspoken words to speak volumes as you raise your glass for a toast.

This time, the humor reaches Yuqi’s eyes as her icy demeanor begins to thaw. “Now you’re getting it.”

With a clink of your glasses, the conversation shifts, weaving its way from topic to topic as the three of you discuss the cities you most want to visit, music of all languages, first impressions, and so, so much more. Expectations be damned, it isn’t anywhere near the clusterfuck you’d feared it’d be—if anything, it’s nothing short of really fucking fun. The chemistry you three share is vivid without straying into volatility, and as much as you hate to admit it, the conversation is at its most vivacious during the interactions between yourself and Yuqi. You, for once, hold nothing back: sharing stories freely and firing off joke after joke without a second thought. Miyeon acts flawlessly as the bridge between you two—quietly contributing to most of the conversation yet eager to jump in on a topic she’s excited about—acting as the light that allows your duet to shine. That, of course, leaves Yuqi as your partner in this performance, but not the Yuqi you’ve come to know. She seems different in this environment—less ferocity, more sincerity. As much as each of you still has a part to play, the lack of tension makes her all the more enthralling, drawing you in as her genuine laughter slices through the intoxicating haze permeating the party. But the shocks don’t end there.

The first time Yuqi tells a joke, you’re caught so off-guard that you can’t help but burst into laughter. The second time, you’re more prepared, yet you’re still left in stitches. And the third—where you end up saying the punchline in unison with her—strikes all of you out. Tears form in the corner of your eyes and stream down the faces of the other two, leaving you all gasping for air even as you laugh so hard it hurts. As you regain your composure, you look through blurry eyes and catch a flash of something in Miyeon’s expression. It’s hard to pin down—a quirk of the mouth or a twitch of the nose—but there’s something hidden somewhere under her radiance that you fear is recognition. It certainly doesn’t help when she excuses herself for a moment, leaving you and Yuqi alone as she goes to refill her drink.

“I never would have thought you’d be a fan of the NBA,” you admit, turning and meeting her eyes with ease.

“Funny you should say that. I’d never have imagined you’d be someone who loves hot pot too! There’s this place in Beijing that’s to die for; you’ll have to try it sometime,” she says with an effortless smile. On instinct, you smile back, but just like that—a single mention of China—and you’re back in the real world.

The one where her vile actions are afterthoughts and her victims’ faces are forgotten. “Maybe I’ll have to go there next time I’m in the country,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly as you struggle to quell the surging storm.

The one where she’s been invited to these kinds of parties from day one while your invitation has been four years in the making. Her eyes twinkle excitedly as she asks, “Oh, have you visited before?”

The one where she seems incapable of losing while even a chance of victory costs you everything. “Twice, actually,” you explain, sighing deeply. “Once to Beijing, and once to Hangzhou.”

The one where she’s gotten under your skin, leaving you defenseless as she holds a gun to your heart. “Sounds like some bad memories,” she comments, a combination of curiosity and concern across her countenance as she refuses to let your gaze escape hers.

The one where you’ll do anything to hide the shameful fact that you wanted nothing more than to exactly what she wanted and scream her name that night in Hangzhou. So, you make sure she’ll forget you ever mentioned it. “Well, the last time I was in Beijing was almost four years ago, when someone spent well over ten minutes verbally assaulting a poor production assistant. So there’s that.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you can feel their edge sever any connection that’d been built up over the course of the previous conversation. Her casual posture is cast aside as recognition and resentment both register, leaving only a smothering silence in the space between you two. Those eyes—sparkling just a moment ago with genuine interest—harden into smoky quartz. The edges of her lips thin and tighten, the earlier cheer fading into a cold, impassive line.

"You're judging me for something that happened four years ago?" she counters, voice low and coated in disbelief. “Most people would have forgotten something like that by now.”

“Most people don’t have the petrified visage of a poor stylist recounting your misdeeds burned into their memory.”

“Is that so?” she deadpans. “Tell me, was it Xuě? Lìlì? Who told you that story?” You meet her questions with silence, and she immediately pounces on the opportunity to continue on. “You don’t even know. You’re desperately clinging to a long dead justification and attempting to bring me down alongside it.”

Your blood returns to a familiar boil—the type only she can bring out of you—as you respond, “My sincerest apologies for the lapse in memory, but who are you to speak of justifications? The reason I can’t remember her name is because I was too stunned by the vitriol you were screaming into some poor man’s ear one room away from me!”

“He’d sabotaged my schedule, trying to make me miss an evaluation just before the final lineup was decided! He was trying to ruin my career!” Her reply climbs in volume, threatening to draw the attention of everyone in the vicinity as your tempers begin to flare and clash against one another once more.

“And why do you think he wanted to see you fail?” you ask, whispered words slipping out in a single breath. From your lips, a question. To her ears, an accusation. In both your minds, you know full well that the only part that matters is that it’s the beginning of an impasse. So now, you’re both stuck staring, waiting for the other to make the first move.

You just happen to be the first to do so. “We need to stop this; we’re getting nowhere, and we’re never going to get anywhere,” you say, exerting tremendous effort to keep your voice steady even as the pounding headache threatens your rhythm. “At least not on this floor.”

The look she gives you is incredulous, but you know her too well to miss the signs of intrigue hidden just beneath her mask. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“We’re both staying here, right?” you ask, pausing for a moment and earning a nod of confirmation. “Then we have a chance to truly make tonight memorable … maybe even have some fun along the way.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going,” she says aloud, but her eyes silently plead for you to continue.

Your smile stretches wide as the words tumble past your lips, uncontrollable and dangerous as your mouth moves faster than your mind. “I think you will. I’ll message you my room number and we’ll go our separate ways—you can tell Miyeon that I was too tired to stay or something. You’re welcome to visit my room at any time, but if you decide not to, we’ll both have a quiet New Year’s Eve.”

“That isn’t much of a game,” she says, eyes narrowing in anticipation. “There’s a catch, isn’t there? There always is with you.”

“Of course, why play without stakes?” you confirm, laughing hollowly as you continue to dig your own grave. You’re too far in at this point—too invested in the lie to let it slide now. The game you two have played has always been dangerous, but now, with your pride on the line, you’ll accept nothing but a victory. You can’t lose to her. “I know that you’re coming back with a new album soon. If you manage to make it to midnight—if you win—I’ll make sure you shine brightest in the most glowing review I’ll ever write. And that’ll be it. We’ll both leave this hotel tomorrow and go back to our normal lives, pretending that none of this ever happened.”

“And if I don’t?” she asks, trying her best to remain calm.

She’s always brought out the worst in you. “Then you’ll come to my room and we’ll finally finish what we’ve been building up to for months.” It’s about time you showed it. “But I’ll write an article dragging the whole fucking group through the mud in the harshest condemnation you’ve ever seen, and the only consolation you’ll have is that only you and I will know it’s all your fault.”

“You wouldn’t,” she immediately retorts, but one look at the unhinged dance of flames in your eyes and she knows better than to test your resolve. “Fuck. You would. You absolutely fucking would. Why are you like this?”

It takes you a moment to gather your strength, but you reach deep into your bag of tricks and pull out a neglected yet powerful weapon: the truth. “Because I’m tired of seeing you escape the consequences of your actions. I want to see you make a decision that matters for once. And honestly, I’m just curious if you’re going to be able to sleep at night knowing you missed the chance for me to make all your dreams come true.”

You see hints of the ghost of her competitive spirit once more in her eyes, but it remains mostly hidden, obscured by the smolders left in the wake of the fire that burned so bright. “Yeah? My dreams are pretty hot.”

“Yeah? Mine too,” you fire back a moment later than you should, seriously unnerved once again by the specificity of her words. “Seems like we’ll both have to bring our best when you visit my room.”

“You’re so, so wrong …” she whispers, words exiting her mouth as if unbidden, captured by a phantom and transported to your ears against her will.

“I’ll leave you with your thoughts,” you whisper, leaning close to personally deliver your parting remarks into her ear. “Now, be a good little professional and smile as you walk away. You wouldn't want people to get the right idea about us, would you?”

You send one last synthetic smirk her way before departing, making your way towards the elevator as you check the time: a bit past ten, which means you’ll have to wait less than two hours for your answer. As you ride up to your floor, you send her your room number, closing the app before checking to see if she’d read your message. As you exit the empty elevator and see a flash of color in your periphery, your mind races with potential ideas. You immediately jump back in, hitting the button for another floor as you decide on a couple of places you’d like to stop by. Your mind is made up by the time the doors open once more, and you begin your preparations in full.

Regardless of the outcome, it’s going to be a long night.

-x-

No one ever views a high-tension elevator ride as a descent. Why would they? After all, the person closer to the top literally has the higher ground. However, the grimacing visage of the lone individual riding down towards another's room tells another story entirely, one that unveils just how little control they have over the situation.

The stop is sudden, shattering their reverie. A chime pierces the silence. The doors part, revealing a mockery of a red carpet and an empty vase before them. The figure exits, walking as slowly as they can bear. They reach an intersection and avoid the right choice. They walk towards the door in question. A single step. Then another. A third. A fourth. A fifth. A stop. A turn. A sigh.

An extended arm. An icy feeling. Cold metal. Another turn. Another sigh. An unlocked door. As expected.

The handle twists and the door swings open, revealing the dimly lit interior. What little light fills the shrouded space is amplified by the faint scent of rose. One sense is clear. Anticipation. The other is crystal. The sharp laughter of its inhabitant. Taunting. Beckoning. The lone figure allows the door to slam. They walk forward, braving the abyss.

-x-

The absurdity of the whole fucking situation hits you as you hear the hinges creak, ripping a cackle from deep within as you lay atop the bed. The door slams, and the soft sound of footsteps lasts only but a moment before emerging from the hallway is none other than the guest of honor, Song Yuqi. You capture her eyes and brace yourself for the heat, but the stare that meets yours is anything but. Her bloodshot gaze struggles to find your eyes as her eyelids fight an increasingly losing battle against the pull of gravity. Even as her sagging shoulders straighten slightly at the sight of you, it’s impossible to miss the lack of grace she normally displays. “Long nights?”

“And longer days,” she responds, clearly fighting back a yawn even as she paints on an insipid smirk.

“I know the feeling all too well,” you say, hints of sympathy beginning to seep through into your speech. “Come, share a drink with me. Maybe it’ll help ease your mind.”

Your words seem to inspire a slight awakening in her as she looks around and truly witnesses your handiwork for the first time. In your hand, a glass, with an identical twin on the bedside table alongside a bottle of your favorite wine. Scattered all around the room sit petals of rose, carefully arranged and lying so patiently as they paint a picture of your intended mood. You expected her to be here. You can only wonder if she ever believed differently.

“I could, but that isn’t why I’m here,” she says, sashaying across the room and leaning in close. “Besides,” she continues, overtly tipping your wine glass, allowing its contents to paint your shirt a dark burgundy. “We really need to do something about those dirty dirty clothes.”

You refuse to break eye contact, but your muscles tense at the chill running down your chest and staining your skin. Your hand shifts in a wordless challenge—one she’s all too willing to partake in—tipping the glass back towards her and causing a free flow once more. Admittedly, the effect of the sanguine liquid isn’t as dramatic flowing down the silk of her black dress as it is on your white shirt, but the view of her cleavage coated in crimson sends your heart rate into the stratosphere.

“We really do.” Your words barely have to travel as you stand and close what little distance remains between you two, casting the wineglass aside as you pull her into a passionate kiss. Her whole body melts into yours as your tongues clash, both of you fighting for superiority even now as you slowly push her back. You can feel the force of her heart, frenetically beating against her ribcage like a drum even as you both stumble and crash towards the bathroom. Once within, you push open the shower door, haphazardly turning the handle somewhere near the top as the deluge drenches you both. The sudden cold is a shock to both of you, earning simultaneous gasps as you watch the water coat her flowing golden hair before descending upon the midnight silk of her dress.

As the temperature rises, so too does the heat. Her soaked attire begins to cling to the curves of her body, and you're more than happy to do the same. Your hands grip and grasp at her breasts once again, savoring how perfectly they seem to fit against your palms. Hers find your hair, tugging insistently and intertwining pleasure and pain in the way only she seems to have perfected.

“Ffuuucckk.” The groan she elicits from you slips past your lips and behind hers almost instantly, sending shockwaves that resonate into the kiss neither of you has allowed to break since the water's initial shock. You barely have to wait before your moans are mirrored as she murmurs back, “God, the way you—fuck—how can you …”

The most minute of mercies is all you're willing to offer as you detach from her lips, instead tracing a perfect mirror of the path you'd taken sometime between a couple days and a lifetime ago: starting right behind her ear before nibbling on her earlobe, the lightest of kisses on her cheek and along her jawline, past the reminders of your indecencies, then finally all the way down the throbbing vein of her neck.

“I need to be inside of you,” you say, searching for her eyes and finding them somewhere amidst the storm.

“Right fucking now.” She finishes the sentence for you, nodding in agreement and gripping the hem of her dress as you tear off your belt.

Some part of you deep within sends a prayer of gratitude to the shower’s architect as you utilize the vast expanse of its luxurious interior to slam her into one of the drier walls outside the direct flow of the water. Her once-slumped shoulders heave from a lack of air and anything but a lack of anticipation, eyes wide and wild as they invite you to approach. You're all too eager to accept, planting one hand on her shoulder as the other reaches past your waist and finally frees your cock from the confines of your clothing. After blindly pulling her well-drenched panties to the side, you look her in the eyes once again—make sure that she knows the precipice you stand atop and that she's willing to jump with you. With the smallest of nods and not even a hint of hesitation, she steps up to the edge alongside you. Together, you take the plunge.

Immediately, the friction overwhelms your senses as you push into her, earning echoing moans from you both as you shudder at the sensation. “Fucking hell, you're incredible,” you growl, unable to silence the admission as you desperately focus your entire being into slowly progressing deeper.

“Keep fucking going,” she’s quick to growl back. “Don't you dare fucking stop until you're fully buried inside of me.”

"Of course, princess,” you manage to say even as you struggle to breathe. “Your wish is my command.”

"Fuck you, stop calling me that," she hisses through gritted teeth. "If you wanted a princess so bad, you should have invited Miyeon."

"But darling," you declare, drama dripping off your words. "I thought you wanted me to stay away from your friends? Or is it different now, now that I've got you exactly where you want you? Do you want them here to watch as you whimper and writhe under my touch, wetter than the ocean yet begging for more?"

“I fucking hate—” You cut her loathing short as you bury yourself to the hilt, ripping another round of moans from you both. Even as the heat between you two and in the nearby pipes rises, you can't help but revel in it, savoring the taste of your victory. You give her no chance to conclude her thought as you up the intensity, slamming your hips into hers at an ever-ascending rate.

While one hand remains bound to her breast, the other finds a home tangled in the soaked strands of her hair. Intentionally or otherwise, your hold on her tightens as the vice grip of her cunt further suffocates your shaft, granting you both the friction you've been desperately craving. The water quickly becomes the second biggest drowning hazard as waves of pleasure threaten to overwhelm you both—pushing you to the edge of ecstasy and tempting you to tip over it. “Holy fuck,” she sobs, voice strangled, scratchy, and nearly silent beneath the downpour. “You—you—”

This time, you're kind enough to allow her to attempt to continue, but her verbal communication skills fail her entirely. On the other hand, her body seems all too willing to tell you the whole story and a bit more. She's absolutely gushing around your cock as she clings onto you with more than just hands, seemingly unwilling to crest the climax without you in lock-step behind her. Unfortunately, the universe seems even less willing to cater to her requests than you are, sending her careening off the clifftop without even a morsel of remorse. The spectacle is sensational, leaving you so close to finishing alongside her, but you’re anything but done here.

It takes a herculean effort, but you manage to pull out of her, causing her eyes to shoot open for the first time in forever as she stares daggers into your soul. Your view is incredible: you see her makeup, running and ruined as her tears fall alongside the shower's flow down her face. As much as you'd like to suffer under the scrutiny of her stunned stare forever, you have a better idea. You toy with her slight frame once more, flipping her around with ease as you push her face first against the shower's glass wall. Within seconds, you're back inside her, thrusting like a madman as cries of ecstasy escape her once more.

“You like that?” you taunt, mind racing a mile a minute as your thoughts try to keep pace with your thrusts. “Like the preview of what's to come?”

“What … the fuck … are you talking about?” she gasps between broken breaths.

"Oh, you couldn't possibly have thought that this would be the end, did you?” you ask, expecting anything but an answer as she looks over her shoulder and you watch the danger in her stare dance behind her eyes. “No no no, next I'm going to take you back out there and fuck you against the window so that anyone who looks up is met with the glorious sight of how much of a slut you are.”

Even through her streaks of tears—born of both pleasure of pain—your inciting yet inviting words are met by both defiance and delight alike. Her voice never wavers as she warns, “I fucking dare you to try it. You're just as likely to get burned as I am.”

Your eyebrow arches, intrigue clear in your expression as you comment, “I thought we agreed that we both like to play with fire.”

“Keep fanning the flames and you just might find out,” she says, the amusement in her smirk standing strong even as you continue ravaging her insides. Somewhere—hidden amid the seabed beneath the waves of pleasure rocking her body—she even finds the audacity to wink and you both find yourselves wearing a certain type of smile. The type you both wear so well; the one only worn in each other's presence.

The shower's flow and slapping of skin keeps the silence at bay as your serenade of sin shifts from semi-verbal back to solely physical. Her lower lip finds a familiar home between her teeth as you turn her to face you once more and choose to plant your own pair atop one of her swollen nipples. You're all too willing to nip, suck, and tease at the sensitive nub, elevating her moans even further until your profusion of pleasures pushes her past a fever pitch.

“Fuck me damnit,” she demands, accentuating her point with a roll of her hips that sends a spike of dopamine through every inch of your body. “Fuck me and don't you dare fucking stop until I cum all over your cock again.”

Your mind wants nothing more than to retort, but your body has higher priorities, using that precious oxygen to power your thrusts as you lead the chase towards your shared climax. It'd be a kindness to give her exactly what she wants, but for once, you're willing to indulge her desires, especially since you conveniently seem to want the same thing. So, you fight, prolonging the burn in the hopes that you can bask in the flames of her desire a little longer, long enough to let it scorch you to cinders until there’s nothing left but the ashes of your self-control.

You only have to stretch your efforts across a minute at most before you’re met with a familiar sight. Even though you've only seen them twice before, you immediately recognize the signs of her oncoming orgasm—the shaking of her shoulders and the hiccups in her throat that convey an uncannily familiar feeling. “I'm close,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against hers. “Where should—”

“Inside!” she rasps, straining to choke out every word. “Do it damn you—I want to feel you shaking as you shoot every last drop inside of me.”

“Jesus fucking christ—” Your reply comes to a sudden end as you cut your words short, knowing better than to ask for mercies she'll never give. Instead, you do your best to cling to whatever coherence remains after the damage her words dealt, desperate to experience the absolution that only the statuette of sin in your arms can offer. And offer it she shall, as it's only moments later that her orgasm overtakes her, suffocating your cock with her tightness as the pace of your thrusting is brought to a near stop. Any grievances you might have had are gone in an instant as the sight of what you do to her sends you soaring over the peak after her, twitching and thrusting until you bury your entire length as deep as she can take. Rope after rope of your cum act as the strokes of a brush as you paint her insides white, defiling her in a wholly new way that neither of you could possibly enjoy more.

Eventually, your orgasm comes to a stop, but you refuse to. Neither of you gets a moment to rest as you instead resume fucking her, sending shockwaves up her spine and down your shaft as overstimulation brings you both to the familiar convergence of pain and pleasure. Every alarm bell in your body rings in unison, begging you to grant it respite from the overwhelming sensitivity as you continue to fuck your cum into her. But just as you've always done when it comes to Yuqi, you ignore every warning sign in sight as you keep thrusting, continuing your assault long after she's burst through her breaking point once more. Her third orgasm hits harder than the previous two combined, forcing you to keep her upright as you give her everything she's ever asked for and more.

Her shaking form eventually stills and you finally yield, granting her the most miniscule of mercies by withdrawing your cock from her. She immediately slides down the glass of the wall, collapsing onto the floor as you try to steady yourself and stay standing. In your efforts to do so, your hand finds the shower's handle and you cease its flow, allowing the echoes of your extended recoveries to resonate throughout the space.

Black spots cloud the edges of your vision as your muscles ache in the best kind of way. A minute later, when your sight finally returns in full, you're met by the picturesque sight of Song Yuqi—one of K-Pop's brightest rising stars—burnt out and panting at your feet as she too tries to come to terms with what just occurred. After another minute, you finally bring your breathing under control, but she's the first to find her voice.

“You … holy fuck,” she whimpers, gaze still hazy as she searches for yours.

“Yeah,” you say, eternally grateful for the eloquence gained through years of writing experience. “I've never …”

“Yeah?” she asks, rubbing her eyes and finally lifting the fog. “Never what?”

“Any of it—hell, all of it—nothing's ever come close to what just happened,” you admit, offering her a helping hand she’s more than willing to take. “Don't you dare lie to me and say you're any different.”

“No, never,” she tells you, allowing the truth to finally be out in the open.

With so little distance between you two, there’s nowhere to hide as you hold each other close, daring the other to be the first to break. There’s something in her eyes that threatens to bind or blind you—something you dare not confront. Not tonight. Maybe never. So, under the weight of her stare, you allow yourself to be the first to look away. “We should get out of these clothes before we catch something serious,” you murmur vaguely in her direction. “I’ll lay everything out to dry; you take a shower and I’ll follow suit once you’re done. That sound good?”

“Something like that.”

Her monotone delivery leaves you with nothing but questions, but you know better than to allow yourself to search her face for answers. Instead, you step outside the shower, dripping moisture all over the floor as you finally strip out of the saturated suit you’ve sported since sunrise. Once naked, you turn to her and try your best not to stare as you take her bundle of clothes before she steps back into the shower. It’s only a brief moment, yet it’s the first time you see her fully bare, leaving even the most inspired corners of your imagination looking like a child’s scrawling in comparison to the artistry that is her body. While you’re sad to see her go, you love to watch her leave—eyes glued to the slight bounce of her ass and rippling of her toned thighs as she walks out of your sight and under the water flow once more.

As she washes away the traces of your transgressions, you do your best to lay everything out to dry. You hastily unfold her balled up dress and lay it out across the bathroom sink, then make your way back out to the room and lay your own clothing across the table and chairs in the corner of the room. You can’t help but crack a hint of a smile at the rose petals still lying in wait, but your eyes truly come to a halt upon the wine entering your view. Barely even a decision is made before you’re striding across the floor, stopping only once the bottle is within reach and the cork has been yanked out once more. The glasses you’d requested are forgotten as you instead drink straight from the bottle, savoring the flavor as its contents dull your senses and wash away your inhibitions. It’s a familiar feeling and a far better friend than you’d like to admit.

You barely even have to kill time before you hear the shower cease once more, giving you your cue to reenter the bathroom and be greeted by the goddess’ mortal form once more. The simple act of her standing there is a gift to you as your perspective presents you with a view of her perfectly smooth skin acting as the backdrop to the droplets’ descent, her towel telling the stupefying story of her subtle curves as it hugs her hips in an impossibly tight embrace. Your eyes fight gravity as they yield to temptation, traveling up the tense muscles of her back and past the sharp edges of her shoulders, continuing ever upwards until they pass her long locks of brilliant blonde; continuing still, all the way until you catch a glimpse of her eyes in the mirror and how they've been observing you ogling her.

“You should hop in the shower. I still need to dry my hair,” she suggests, surprisingly sparing you the shame of having been caught staring.

“Yeah,” you say weakly, averting your eyes and walking away. The heat of the water immediately relieves your tension, allowing you a moment you refuse to use for reflection. Instead, you rush through your cleaning routine, barely registering any external stimuli as you singularly focus on your sole goal. When you shut the water off a couple minutes later, you’re met solely by silence. When you step out of the shower, you’re met by your reflection as the only other inhabitant of the bathroom. And once you’re fully dried off and step back into the bedroom, you’re met with a sight shocking enough to restart your heart. She’s there, on your bed, hair splayed out like a curtain of gold laid upon the pillow as the familiar pink and red of rose petals laid delicately atop your skin, obscuring your view of her chest and cunt.

“This won’t do …” she drawls, dissatisfaction salient in each sultry syllable as her eyes lock on to the destination of roughly all of your blood flow. “You’re not nearly hard enough for me.”

With a single, impossibly deep breath, she blows away the rose petals, revealing the obsidian lace of the lingerie she somehow dried during your shower. Without hesitation, your body begins to address the object of her anger, growing painfully hard and even more so as she curls a single finger, beckoning you over with a look that could set the Han River ablaze.

You’re all too happy to oblige. As you draw closer, you notice her freshly applied makeup: smokey eyeshadow and ruby red lips that paint a crystal-clear message in your mind. She’s not here to fuck around. She’s here to fuck you within an inch of your life.

The bed is more than large enough for two, and as you lay beside her, you amend one of your earlier observations; while her bra has remained dry, her panties are absolutely fucking soaked. You turn to her, opening your mouth and intending to ask her how she did any of this, but a single finger laid upon your lips locks them and keeps you silent. Her lithe form easily climbs atop you, straddling your hips as she leans in, giving you a fucking fantastic view of her cleavage once again as she nibbles on your earlobe.

“My fucking turn.”

With a roll of her hips, she grinds against your shaft, making your cock burn with sensation as the lace drags up and down the sensitive skin. At this angle—you beneath her as she coaxes everything she wants from you and more—you’re caught under the cruelty of her grin as the light casts shadows that accentuate rather than hide her beauty. Another roll, another realization. She’s got you cornered—physically, mentally—she might as well have a gun to your chest and yet, there’s a thrill coursing through your veins. When she captures your lips, she does so with a ravenous frenzy, teeth sinking into your lower lip and pressing until they’re dripping with the blood she craves. There’s no mistaking the fact that you’re the prey she’s been hunting. All that’s left to decide is whether or not you want to escape, and you’re leaning towards no.

"Are you scared?" she asks. It doesn't sound like a question. It sounds like a challenge.

"No," you answer truthfully, knowing full well that in the midst of this chaos—this maelstrom of ash and anticipation—fear has no place. “I can handle the heat.”

“Can you now?” Her laughter is a wicked, dancing flame that sears your senses as you witness her smile run ruthlessly red as she licks the remnants of your blood off her upper lip. “If that’s the case …” she trails off for a moment, reaching back and grasping your length with the unimaginably smooth skin of her hand. “Then don’t come crying if you end up getting burned.”

In the next breath, she takes yours away, sinking onto your shaft with a devastating aggression. Immediately, your lungs begin to tense and strain, desperately searching for air amongst the shallow gasps you sneak in between the slamming of her hips. It’s futile. When she feels like this—hot, wet, and walls wrapped around you so impossibly tightly—you’re better off attempting to offer up a prayer than trying to seize control.

Her onslaught leaves you reeling, back arching and fingers digging into the curves of her hips as you chase an even greater high. She’s relentless, unyielding, as if she refuses to allow you even the slightest opportunity to halt her momentum. Even as she gasps in exertion, it still adds to your torment, sending you tumbling ever closer to the edge of pleasure and pain alike. Her nails rake down your chest, carving molten mementos of her insatiable desire that you won’t soon forget, yet the more these sensations blend beautifully amidst this consuming chaos, the more irresistible it becomes. The way she rides you is primal, rough, yet somehow, unmistakably her. Demonic laughter echoes throughout the room as she rolls her hips ruthlessly, yet still it brazenly teases a promise of the pleasure to come.

Her body moves rhythmically against yours, riding up and down the length of your shaft at an incredible tempo as your heart rate soars ever upward. Your vision is pulled in a million different directions as every aspect of her figure demands your undivided attention—the ghosts of her fingertips as she delicately traces the lines of your abs, the faint hint of her nipples poking against the constrictive fabric of her bra, the unrestrained glee in her grin as she triumphs over the echoes of fatigue and maintains her ceaseless assault. Ultimately, your wandering eyes come to a stop at the sight of her evocative visage, long locks framing her face like a curtain, shielding the rest of the world from the harrowing beauty of this huntress whose sight searches solely for you. You can sense the wicked satisfaction in her gaze, a feral delight in seeing you under her control. Her voice is a low purr that vibrates through your core as she leans in even closer. "Scared now?”

"Never," you choke out in response, swallowing hard as her breath cascades over the sensitive skin of your neck.

She chuckles lightly, "We'll see about that."

You respond not with words, but with a tighter grip on her hips as you sense an opening and thrust up into her, disrupting her tempo with ease and issuing a silent challenge. She gasps in response, and there are hints of flushes—flashes of hunger—across those features hidden in shadow. Her satisfied smirk fades from her face, displaying instead a delirious delight that makes your pounding heart skip a beat. “Such audacity,” she murmurs, subtle signs of mirth showing in her shaking voice.

She’s quick to adapt to the new tempo, moving in perfect synchronization with your thrusts instead of attempting to seize back sole control. Somewhere along the thread that’s inexplicably tied you two together, you find harmony, allowing you to match each other’s strikes with dangerous precision. Her hands climb your body, tangling themselves in your hair and tugging harshly enough to send shivers down your spine. You cling onto her as if she’s the only thing keeping your consciousness intact, fingers digging into her hips deep enough to bruise as each stroke causes an explosion of sensation across your entire being. It’s an intricate dance of power and pleasure: intoxicating, addicting, and—just like she’s always been—impossible to resist.

Amid the rasps of fuck and you and I and oh my god and yesssssssssssssssssssssssssssss, you see a flash of inspiration in her eyes, warning you even before she acts that she’s up to no good. A groan of frustration is ripped from your chest as she slows the pace, leaving you burning with a desire for more pace, more friction, more her, but if the look of bliss on her face at the long, slow strokes is any indication, you’re likely to be left wanting. It’s even worse when she stops entirely, hand wrapping around your throat, desperate for air even as she refuses to allow you any. It gives you a second to stare, to really take in the sight of her as she studies you right back. Even like this, the “flaws” in her appearance—hair disheveled, bra crooked, panties tugged aside, makeup marred by exertion—only serve to further showcase her perfection, leaving you hungry for more. You relax your clenched fingers and grant her hips the slightest of respites as you reach behind her back and unclasp her bra, finally freeing her breasts and their stiff peaks that call your name. Her panties present a bit of a conundrum, but you’re so intoxicated by the image of her you refuse to be reasonable. You muster up your initiative as your hands slide down her sides and rip them to shreds, finally revealing her in her glorious entirety.

“Those were expensive, you know,” she spits, but the words don’t hold as much venom as they normally do.

You shrug, wrapping your hand around hers on your throat as you reply, “So was my scarf.”

And then you both get back to trying to fuck the other into an early grave.

There’s a tempest of wills clashing—her burning desire against your ceaseless refusal to relent—that elevates you both past any limits you might have believed you’d had. The size of your hand dwarfs hers, but there’s an undercurrent of understanding, even as she so clearly communicates the threat she poses. Her eyes, shrouded in shadow, catalog every twitch of your body beneath her. She releases her grip on you before pushing herself up against your chest, bracing her palms as she arches her back in the most alluringly seductive way. The freedom granted to your airflow is for naught as the sight of her leaves you without breath, thought, or any way of slowing the climax you’re suddenly hurtling towards.

“You’re so fucking hard for me,” she whispers, cruelty and craving alike coloring her countenance as she captures your eyes. “Why don’t you tell me what you need? If you ask nicely, I might even give it to you.”

“In your fucking dreams,” you fire back, a feral smirk spreading across your face as the opening notes of her melodic laughter play for you.

But her song stalls as her breath hitches, hiccups of pain and pleasure overpowering her as you feel the quakes overtake her. You wrap your arms around her back, pulling her close as her orgasm overwhelms her, coating your shaft and gushing down your thighs as she reaches the pinnacle of euphoria. Her teeth sink into your shoulder, seeking stability instead of sanguine satisfaction as her moans send vibrations across your skin, sweeping you up in the ecstasy she’s experiencing. You groan in agonizing pleasure as you meet her atop cloud nine, wincing at the magmatic flow of your white-hot cum shoots into her. In each other's arms you find incomparable pleasure, traveling together all the way from the ninth circle of hell to the seventh heaven.

You stay inside her longer than you need to, long enough for both of you to catch your breath. With a regretful groan, you pull out of her, opening up the floodgates of both of your cum to flow freely down her beautifully bruised thighs. You look to her, desperate to call for a draw, but instead you’re met with the face wearing the weight of weariness and shadowy eyes that seem to see right through you. Before she can even offer a single word, she collapses, tumbling to your side and laying her face against a pillow before going still.

-x-

After a brief confirmation of a pulse, you pull the sheets and covers over her, leaving her in silence before heading into the bathroom and cleaning yourself up. Upon your return, you’re anything but surprised to see that she’s gone, drifted off to dreamland, taken by tranquility. The sight steals your breath away, stunning you as your mind grapples with the notion that this peaceful sleeping angel inhabits the same body as the devil who rode you ‘til rapture mere minutes ago. You muster up a couple crumbs of courtesy as you quietly move through your hotel room, pulling on an old pair of jeans and a shirt you’d rather hide beneath the hoodie you instead hang on the door before sneaking out into the silence of the hallway.

You take a left, then a right, pause, then walk past the vase you’d raided earlier and choose to descend as the elevator doors close behind you. On the back wall sits a mirror and trapped within stands your reflection, staring through you as you study yourself. Your practiced posture protects the truth of the present—prevents the outside world from seeing the fatigue pervasive throughout your system. You’re shaking out of your reverie by the sound of a ding and the sliding of doors, revealing your desired floor behind you. You back out, refusing to break eye contact until the doors do the deed for you. You sigh, turn, shake your head, then trek forwards towards your destination. Ahead—beneath a wooden slab stained with stories—sits a suite of stools, empty and for the taking. You mount one and offer a small nod to the bartender, who seems surprised by your presence, though not your appearance.

“Long night?” he asks, grabbing a glass and setting it atop a coaster as he finds the answer in your eyes long before you vocalize it.

“I mean, yeah,” you chuckle, running your finger around the rim of the glass. “In all the best ways. Surprise me.”

His eyebrow rises as he catches the glass you slide back to him, pondering for a moment before turning and scouring the shelves. “Oh yeah? Then how come you’re here, especially now? Don’t get many visitors this late after hours.”

“There’s, uh …” you pause, considering how much honesty you want to offer before resigning yourself to sharing it in full. “There’s a girl in my hotel room. You can guess what we did there, but she’s asleep now and I don’t want to be there when she wakes up.”

“That’s a new one,” he responds, hints of a surprised smile spreading across his face as he slides back the glass, now containing a connoisseur’s drink of choice. “Though I’ll admit that still doesn’t tell me why you’re here.”

“Thanks,” you say, picking up the cup and swirling the liquid around, allowing the aroma to saturate your senses as the dark liquid sloshes around and splashes the frozen orb within. “Honestly, I’m hoping that with a little time, I might just find it at the bottom of this glass.”

“Then happy hunting, friend. Let me know if I can get you anything else,” he offers before turning to resume his cleaning.

“Will do,” you reply, raising your drink in thanks as the snug solace of silence settles over the space. A sip, a thought. Another, for naught. Try as you might, you can’t seem to wrap your head around why you feel the way you do. Theoretically, this “should” be the perfect justification for you to rip her next promotion to absolute shreds. You “should” be foaming at the mouth at this opportunity, the chance for you to give her what she deserves. This is the stuff of dreams, right? It “should” be.

You “should” be a lot of things. Conscience-stricken should not be one of them. Yet here you are. Regretful. Hesitant. Weak. Everything you shouldn’t be. Everything you hated being. Everything you swore you’d never be again.

And somehow, Song fucking Yuqi has the power to bring all of that out of you.

You’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this. About her. More than you’d like to admit, yet likely not as much as you should. But it’s only here, in this drunken stupor amidst the forgotten hours of the night, that you finally take the time to truly reflect on your relationship thus far. You’re one of many who’s watched her shine brightest under the spotlight’s glow, but one of few who’s seen who she is in the dark. You’re aware of the disdain lurking behind every easy smile she gives, yet the taste of her cherry lipstick is more familiar than your morning coffee. You’ve heard all the honeyed lies she whispers so freely, but no one else knows how sweet she sounds when screaming your name. You might be the only one who knows she’s a nightmare masquerading as a dream, but you’re undeniably unsure whether it’s one you want to wake up from. So many thoughts, but not even a hint of the truth you’re hunting for.

But then, somewhere in the haze, you finally find the missing piece: it’s the hypocrisy of it all that drives you mad. It's the fact that she gets to have her cake and eat it too; the fact that she gets to grow her fame without growing as a person. It's the fact that you had to get your first editor—your friend—fired because he was limiting your creative freedom. It’s the fact that her group can undergo a massive scandal and have it all swept under the rug in less than six months’ time. It's the fact that you've had to abandon the unknown groups with the most compelling stories because they're not the ones who generate views. It's the fact that you've had to budget for the price of your ambition while she can max out her social credit without a second thought.

Worst of all, it’s the fact that you’re stuck wide awake in the lost hours of the day with nothing but her on your mind while she sleeps serenely in a suite paid for by the fruits of your labor. You've long since come to terms with the fact that she's living rent-free in your head; now you're just disputing her claim to the master bedroom and both parking spots. The possibility that you might be living in your worst nightmare—that you might have become an afterthought—fills you with an icy foreboding that even a thousand scalding showers couldn’t thaw. And there’s still nothing you can do about it.

If you’re being honest, there might never be.

You slam back the rest of your drink, desperate to display a degree of decisiveness wherever possible. You’re gentler when you set it back on the coaster, but there’s still enough force to cause the bartender to turn.

“So, did you find what you were looking for?” he asks, looking down at the glass before meeting your eyes once again.

“Can’t say I did,” you chuckle darkly, pausing for a moment before sliding it back to him. “But it couldn’t hurt to check again.”

Continued in Act Three …

(I’d like to express my appreciation to @capslocked for both their direct and indirect contributions to this fic. They’ve been the biggest catalyst for my growth as a writer the past couple months and I can’t thank them enough for their time and patience. Once you’re done with this fic, please do yourself a favor and go read “Starlet” if you’re in the mood for more Miyeon & Yuqi content. Once you’re done with that, please do me a favor and bully them into writing Part 2, tyvm!)

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #yuqi smut #yuqi fanfic #idol x reader #idol x male reader #gidle yuqi #gidle #yuqi #song yuqi #slow burn #gidle miyeon #miyeon

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cosmerelists · 3 months

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If Cosmere Characters Had Real-World Jobs (But Not The Obvious Ones)

In this list, I wanted to try to give Cosmere characters jobs in our world while avoiding the jobs that would be the most obvious picks--like, for example, the real world equivalent of whatever their canon job is.

1. Kaladin: Professional Football Player

It's a dangerous job that Kaladin's dad would scoff at, but the other kids in town think it's really cool and also the recruiters are coming through town and, I mean, he's really good at football.

2. Lirin: Public Defender

If we avoid the obvious job (doctor), then Lirin still needs a job where he is doing good, but it's pretty thankless and the general public are suspicious and think he might actually be evil somehow. So I figure: public defender. He's highly educated, helping people who need it, and just getting nothing but grief as a result. Worst of all, his smart son wants to be a FOOTBALL player!

3. Marsh: Masseuse

I feel like people who are good at hemalurgy know about the body and its pressure points and things like that. And frankly, "acupuncturist" felt too on the nose.

4. Shallan: Park Ranger

Shallan HATES to be confined, so no way she's going into an office job. Plus, she likes nature and animals, but I'm trying to avoid the more obvious jobs (like botanist or ecologist). It's just too bad that Shallan is SO bad at staring a campfire, though.

5. Navani: Wedding Planner

Navani is VERY good at managing people and events, as seen when she had to manage everything while Gavilar was off plotting. She's also very organized and literally invented wristwatches. So I think she's be very good at this job.

6. Elend: Grad Student

This one may be too obvious, but I figure something like "politician" or "philosopher" are more obvious. But to me, Elend has major grad student energy.

7. Nale: Insurance Adjuster

Nale is a cop, of course, through and through. But if he wasn't a cop, then he'd need some other job where he uses the rules to screw people over. So I see him as, like, an evil insurance guy who's denying people medical coverage because the company wants him to.

8. Blackthorn-Era Dalinar: Debt Collector

If flashback Dalinar couldn't make a living mowing people down in battle and had to find a less obvious job, then I could see him being the guy to hunt down people and demand money they don't have. He doesn't really care about the money. He just likes the hunt.

9. Adolin: eSports Player

It's a job where you can head-to-head battle people and your dad is vaguely puzzled and thinks you should be doing something more important with your life.

10. Lightsong: Customer Service Agent

In canon, Lightsong's job is to face down a huge line of people and tell them "no" in response to them asking for something they want. So, I mean, I feel like that's equivalent to one of those shitty customer service jobs where you're not really allowed to help people (until, of course, Lightsong goes rogue and does start helping people, but that's another story...)

11. Stormfather: Bus Driver

He has his route, and he's not deviating from it. And if you miss the bus, he's not stopping. He's not going back. You can try to run, but you will not catch up to him.

12. Tress: Mechanic

As a Sprouter, Tress had to figure out how each of the spores worked and how to use them. I just feel like she'd be good at diagnosing issues in machinery and then fixing them.

13. Steris: Programmer

She's precise, she's smart, she likes rules. I think coding would suit her.

14. Yumi: Waitress

She could stack the plates SO high.

15. Marasi: Investigative Reporter

Which, honestly, is what I wish she had been rather than being a cop like in canon. I think it would suit her! She'd get to research, investigate, find the truth...

16. Kelsier: Motivational Speaker

He tells you about the power of smiling no matter what, so that you are never defeated. He tells you to carry something small, some memento or photo, to help you find your motivation. You tells you that no goal is out of reach--you just have to find the right people and the right steps to move forward. And he tells you that the most important thing is to survive.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Kaladin #Lirin #Shallan #Adolin #Kelsier #Marasi #Yumi #Tress #Stormfather #Lightsong #Dalinar #Elend #Nale #Marsh #Steris #Navani

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cupcraft · 8 months

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Ranboo rebrand stream important stuff in one single post!:

if anything i missed pls rb and add on!

chat etiquette! They are going to be more strict with this (but not for new chatters honest mistakes).

Ban 101 -> the number 1 rule:

racism, antisemitism, homophobia, transphobia, discrimination. Instant ban, no excuse. Even bigoted jokes! 0 tolerance! you will be banned from even viewing the streams. This even counts on doing it on other streamer's chats/platforms if found out!

More rules: be funny (please!) and chill and kind and use emotes (including BTTV), dont spam chat (will be fixed/enforced bc of past issues),

other tidbits/news:

the vtuber/stuff will evolve over time, there are different vtuber outfits/costumes planned (ex they have an mcc outfit already!), the room in the background will change, they will be reaching out to ppl for collabs (feel free to recommend people but do not spam their chats!), planning to do more irl streams (will be weird/experimental and they will go wild! They will be making weird stuff!), they also have plans that they are excited to tell and its been a long time coming (this may be the cake video but i couldnt tell in stream), ranboo bakes a cake 2 will be coming TOMORROW on youtube (23 mins and incredible! they laughed at themself), ranboo plans to do experimental stuff on youtube (they have gotten into film lately!), founder's cut of gen 1 of genloss will be coming out 2-3 months ?? date/end of year, the vtuber ranjacket will be a part of the merch drop prototype at vidcon (physical jacket!), will be doing competitive/events with people (like organized little thing) (content/what it is undetermined) and he wants it to be obscure and random, ranboowaslive will start to ramp up a bit (more clips/compilations to come esp if you dont enjoy long vod watching), ranboo will be eating a nintendo DS cartridge live on stream (a joke!), MORE SURPRISES KEPT AS A SECRET + tiny plans in the works, they are moving into the new place/still have boxes to unpack (vtuber lore), he may finish the last of us part 2, subathon (really like back to back fun streams/long streams/playthrough of long games like omori) in january probably, splatoon may return,

What does the new era mean/qna stuff?

talking about old content is fine as long as you recognize that it is the PAST and not the kind of content ranboo makes now. Do not "put them back in the box".

Vtuber: will not be used all the time. They will do facecam streams too. Depends on how he feels.

why the r800: the 8 looks like a b LMAO

this is just the start of rebrand. He will re-establish a lot, things will be easier to find/reorganized, slowly over the weeks things will be changing.

what will happen tothe alt twitter (ranaltboo)?: new pfp, same energy (see below my shitty sc). art creds to mochi!

not only just a rebrand for him and the look of the content. But also it is a rebrand of how they act around and view their own content. they may not be as in the community as he has been (liking fanart/in chat/etc.) out of recommendation from people! If ranboo needs to be aware of something THEY HAVE PEOPLE to make him aware of important issues/emergencies and they will be focusing more on themself and the content overall. they are thankful to be allowed to do this, as they dont want to keep seeing things they dont want to see/have that anxiety. Less scrolling = more content!

They will probably have longer streams again!

will move to more mature jokes/phrases and may have content labels on the streams. Overall, streams will be pg-13 mostly.

TITS stands for twitch integrated throwing system [insert ranboo's giggle here]

All proceeds donated to ranboo's channel only go to charity! Not to them at all! They have a list of charities that he supports and will be changed 1-3 months at a time like usual!

Please make stuff. This is how he gets ppl who edit and the emote makers/artists. Not forced. Just encouraging ppl who make stuff to make stuff and he appreciates it and loves it! Even if it is not about him just make it! AND SUPPORT ARTISTS BOOBERS!

#ranboo.liveblog #ranboo #ranboolive #main tagging bc this is important i think!#pleek rb if you want!

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pastel-charm-14 · 2 months

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how to romanticize your life - a series - post 2 - romanticizing school

soo many people see school as something to avoid, as a chore. but we as individuals have the power to change the way we view school. it's an opportunity for growth, discovery, and personal development. so without further ado: here are a couple tips to help you romanticize school!!

have a positive mindset. in order to study effectively, you need to put aside the negative connotations you have with school and studying and replace them with positive connotations. write out a cons list and then counteract each negative with a positive. for example: con - school is very time consuming | pro - it teaches you time management skills.

create a peaceful and cozy school morning routine. drink some water, watch something funny, use the bathroom, brush your teeth, do your makeup, listen to some nice music, pick out a cute outfit, do your hair, have some matcha.

i also like to say affirmations in the mornings like "i love school" or "i'm amazing at school" to help get me into that positive mindset i was talking about earlier.

make a to-do list. part of romanticizing is not stressing. if you prepare for your day in advance, you can worry less and enjoy more.

really explore your school campus. find all the little nooks and crannys, and don't miss out on anything your school has to offer. for example, i found a little covered picnic table over by the greenhouses at my school that i love to sit at. cute places to study and hang out make school so much more enjoyable.

appreciate being a student. there is so much community and everyone is working toward to common goal to really figure out who they want to be and what they're going to do. it sounds dramatic, but it's true. so i advise you to embrace student life. attend events, plays, games, join clubs, and study with your friends. so go to that football game, participate in spirit days, and enjoy being a student to its fullest potential!

materials are also a huge part of school. you don't have to spend big bucks, but these are some basic things that have helped me:

-cute planners/notebooks, sticky notes -> for goals/organization, writing down something quick, although take physical notes as well!

-books -> gives you something to do, i like romance and educational books

-ipad -> helps with notes/studying, customize it to make it cute, add widgets, and keep in mind that it's all about the vibes

dress to impress. wear cute outfits. treat school as a fashion show. i know dressing up and feeling confident has really enhanced my school experience. some of my favorite things to wear are preppy cardigans, nice jeans, skirts, high knee boots, long sleeve turtlenecks, and just tons of cute tops. layering is very important to me as well. you can also add jewelry to help elevate your style a lil bit.

have a space that you dedicate to only studying. i have a desk in my room that i use, and it has improved my study habits, my grades, and my discipline. it makes studying/schoolwork so much more enjoyable. it always good to keep in mind that your environment impacts tons of other aspects of your life too. make your space your own and personalize it. some potential spots could also be coffee shops or the library, whatever works for you.

make a pinterest board to motivate yourself. this could include study-with-me's, study tips, just general inspiration, or things to do with your main area of study or your major if you're a uni student. this helps you think about "huh, that could be me".

bonus tips:

absorb study content/vlogs

have a good-vibes playlist

in case ya missed the intro post:

stay tuned…

#romanticizing school #romantizing life #romanitcize #romaniticization #romanticise everything #romanticize #romanticism #school #students #study motivation #studyspo #study aesthetic #studying #student #studyblr #pastel dreamer✨

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skz1-4-3 · 4 months

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MY DEMON CH.1

Navigation || ateez Masterlist || hongjoong Masterlist ||.

¡Click here for the preview which holds important information to understand the story!

Pairings : DEMON!Hongjoong x reader , slight Wooyoung x san(not detailed , just a lot of skinship between those and lolevly chemistry)

Warnings : not proofread , Mentioning of blood , stabbing , choking(in a movie reader will watch) , harassment(reader gets harassed by men on the streets at night). Gore , head being sliced of by unknown power , knife. LMK if i missed something that could be triggering. <3

Word count : 1.7k (1,721 to be exact)

Readers POV : „you…“

Y/n POV : „I…“

no direct interaction with hongjoong yet , but i promise in the next chapter there will be.

————————————-————————————

„No, please ! Stay with me , you can’t leave me. Im begging you!“

-1 YEAR BEFORE THE DAY OF THE INCIDENT-

[READERS POV]

You grunted as, you finally carried the last box into your new home, from the van . Your aunt had just passed away due to a tragic car accident, she was the last family member you had left , but now shes gone aswell. Somehow every single one of your family member all died due to tragic events.

You emptied each box and settled down on the slightly dusty couch that got a little damaged from the transport. You prior lived in busan , a small town in South korea and now you were here in Seoul , the city you and your aunt dreamed of visiting before her death.

„I should probably go grocery shopping , since i had to throw everything away“ you sighed , tired from moving. You stood up , grabbed your new keys and drove to the nearest store to buy some food and other things you might think were necessary.

„okay lets see , first lets get some food , i already have enough water at home so no need to worry about that for the time being“ you said out loud , even though there was nobody around that you talked to. You walked down the aisle , scanning the shelves to check if you needed anything in particular . Nothing looking infront of you, you accidentally walked into something or rather someone.

„Oh my , im so sorry. I wasn’t watching where i was going.“ you apologized and bowed to the person you walked into , as they put a hand on your shoulder.

„Please do not bow , its alright.“ a male deep voice said and you raised your head to look at the owner.

„My name is mingi by the way and these three are yeosang , san and wooyoung.“ he introduced himself and his friends to which they all nodded and two of them-san and wooyoung- gave a little wave and ‚hey‘

„Nice to meet you , my name is Y/n“ you spoke and gave them a little smile , they seemed so nice and had a friendly aura. Especially mingi , his aura basically gave you energy . You could see their auras thanks to your moms witch side,that flowed through your veins.

„where are you from by the way ? I can hear an accent“ Mingi asked you , tilting his head in curiosity. You told him that you were from busan and you all had a fun conversation about anything that came to your minds.

..2 MONTHS LATER

-10 MONTHS BEFORE THE INCIDENT-

This encounter was 2 Months ago . Along your journey you all became good friends , almost family. Everything felt natural , you had also met Seonghwa , Yungo and jungho . Today you were all hanging out at you apartment, having another sleepover . You all gathered around and on the couch.

„So what we gonna do?“ Wooyoung asked and everyone turned to look at him . Mingi suggested to watch a horror movie and everyone agreed ,since halloween was approaching anyways. So you gathered some blankets and pillows ,to built a small nest ,to sit in. Everyone sat down comfortably , you were between mingi and yeosang,while wooyoung and san were cuddling each other. Seonghwa and jongho were on the couch, while yunho turned on the selected movie on the TV and proceeded to sit down infront of you and lied his head down ,between your legs. You put a blanked on him ,so it was warm and cozy .

The horror movie felt more like a thriller, as it showed a scene ,where blood was splashing basically everywhere. The character shown on screen was being brutally murdered and stabbed several times as Ghost face-the murderer in the scene- let out a maniac laugh. His free hand which wasn’t holding the knife , choking the poor girl.

Soon the movie was over and you all decided to play a classic game called truth or dare . Whenever you were bored , truth or dare was your solution.

„Okay , Wooyoung . Truth or dare?“ Yeosang asked wooyoung in anticipation.

„Hm truth , i dont trust you with a dare man.“ wooyoung answered and yeosang asked him ,if he was interested in anyone ,at the moment . The young man, had found a love letter in the notes app ,of wooyoungs phone , so he got quite curious. Wooyoung answered „no , i dont think i do.“ so yeosang asked him „what about that little love letter of yours?“ with a sly smile on his face . „I was just trying to be poetic i guess , im planning on writing a song about past relationships.“ he swiftly answered ,as if he was prepared for this question.

Playing another few rounds , yunho got up and walked to the closet beneath the TV to see what other movies you got stored in it. „Hey y/n , what book is this.“ he asked as he held up a book, that your aunt had left you behind, before her death. Strangely to you , it seemed like she knew the date of her death and was waiting for it . Becoming more anxious day after day , and two days before her accident, she gave you the book. It was filled with sentences, in what you assumed to be latin , but some words were still unknown to you ,so thats why you thought, it must be a different one.

„My aunt left it behind for me .“ you told him and took the book out of his hands gently . You opened the book on the last page, since you were supposed to read it from right to the left , other than usual books.

„Bestiam arcesse , tegere , necare , facere quod volo . At mihi ne noceas, ut sum dominus.“( summon the beast, to protect , to kill . But it shall not harm me , as I am its master.) you said out loud , yes you knew that you came from a family of witches -just like mingi , you found out about that when he used a spell to change clothes without knowing that you saw him- but you aunt always told you , that you were to weak to cast a spell , since your dad was human .

Or so you all thought

After you read it out and san raising his eyebrow , seonghwa asked. „What does that mean?“

„I have no idea“ you responded and you all returned to truth or dare and you placed the book behind you. Behind you … just like the weird stare you suddenly felt.

„Okay y/n , truth or dare .“ wooyoung asked you , you answered „dare!“ slightly excited. Wooyoung always had the most fun dares to do. But this time it wasn’t that fun .

„i dare you to get some snacks from the 24/7 store down the street. Please? I am starving.“ he said leaning into you with puppy eyes. You sighed and agreed. Should’ve picked truth. „Let me go with you , its already 2AM and dark outside.“ yunho said being the gentleman he is.

You disagreed and said thats its all good since the store is just down the road and been to it several times before after 3AM. After some arguing he accepted to just stay and wait for you to come back. You took you purse , put on shoes and jacket and left the house.

As you walked down the street with your hands in your pocket , you started to feel slightly uncomfortable. Weird… , you thought as you grew anxious. Out of nowhere a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you , into the alleyway. Another hand covering your mouth as the one that grabbed you held your wrists together behind you. You tried to scream but your sounds got muffled .

„Okay sweetheart , this will god by quickly if you just comply with us.“ said one of the men ,as he twirled the knife in his hands , a disgusting smirk plastered across his face. Your eyes filled with fear and pleading for them to let you go.

Unexpectedly the one holding your wrists let go , or so you thought. When you turned around you saw him unconscious on the flore . The other three were shocked and walked over to him , slapping his cheeks. The second time something weird happened was when another mens throat suddenly splashed a circle of bloods from around it and his eyes widened , you eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then his head , fell off of his body , landing on the floor next to the -which you thought was unconscious- dead man. The remaining two screamed and your eyes widened in horror. You quickly turned around and ran home where you were safe. Not really.

You were still dazed from what happened. Did the other two die aswell? You questioned yourself in your mind ad you walked into the living room where you found 7 men on couch and floor -or both like mingi whos upper body was on the floor but hips and legs on the couch- all sleeping.

You sighed in relief not having to answer the questioning of wooyoung which would lead to you vaguely telling them what happened , which then would lead to yunho feeling like he should be the one to blame for it.

You walked over to the free couch, which no one was on and settled down. You muscles thanking you ,since you just ran as fast ,as you’ve never been before. Looking down on the table you found the book open on the page from before again. The the guys read it ? You thought before you layed down to finally get some rest.

Why you weren’t confused on what happened just now? You were always told stories ,by your aunt and some of your mother , before they both passed ,on how crazy events happened to them, because they were witches.

Must be a witch thing…

Was the last thing you thought as you finally fell asleep.

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graciereyy · 4 months

Text

The Siren And The Samurai Chapter 2

THIS HAPPENS AFTER THE EVENTS OF THE LAST EPISODE THERE MANY BE SPOILERS BE ADVISED

*warning! This will have alot of possibly triggering stuff just like the actual show so be advised.*

A bell was intruding the sleep of everyone on board, everyone had their own complaints, grunts, and fuss about it. While she also had her complaints, Mizu was actually looking forward to finding out who that ‘siren’ person was. Maybe she could get important information out of them? But first she wanted to try the food, she summed up her amount of coins, occasionally stopping to glare at fowler. He opened his mouth to mock her but was cut off by an eye roll and a purposefully harsh exhale.

She locked eyes with him for a quick second then quickly sped up the stairs before he could say anything. When she stepped foot outside she was finally hit with the “totally sweet” smell of London. She scrunched her nose in disgust and tried to power through it best she could. “It smells atrocious out here…” that comment from her caught a laugh from the leading boater.

“Yeah, its London! Of course it smells like shit and smoke.” She didn’t know what else to say to that other then just stare at him. She just sighed and started walking away from the port.

Not too far away from the plaza place was a little string of shops and stalls, Mizu inspected each one and found the one she liked, But before she could do anything there was commotion at the plaza, and Mizu wasn’t going to forfeit this chance. She passed through the crowd progressing her way to the stage.

This time there were more people waiting for them than booing them than last night, and one thing Mizu noticed was that most of their fans were women while most of the people booing were men; A little strange.

Then ‘the siren’ appeared. Something was familiar about them.. then it clicked. It was her. It was the girl, the strange girl from last night. She looked so pleased with herself even though the townspeople didn’t like her much, Mizu had a sort of respect for her for that. When she started to sing it was so different then how others described english music, then she heard what the antis were saying about it..

‘Rebel music’ and ‘Siren hex ’ even ‘ Witch Trance’

Then the lyrics.. of the song, it was so familiar to her past.. literally described her. She sung it so beautifully and the emotion in it almost made her cry. She was so in awe by the song she blocked out everything else even unintentionally getting closer to the stage.

“Thats why i call her Little Miss Blue.” The girl sung out like a songbird. When the applause erupted she gave them all a curtsy and sweetly smiled at them. She was quick to get off stage and run off but Mizu was quick to go after her. The girl noticed Mizu quickly and fear settled in her. She turned corners sharp trying to escape her follower, that ended when she was backed up into a dead-end.

The girl scouted something to defend herself with but came up empty handed. “O-okay!” She stuttered out nervously. “What do you want.?! Whats your deal??”

“Im just curious. I have some questions.” Mizu told her.The girl tilted her head in confusion.

“Tell me…”

Mizu licked her lips. “Okay, about the song.” She stared at her and gestured for mizu to elaborate. “Whats it mean? Whats it about?” She sighed.

“Its about a bounty..” she sighed then she realized. “Oh wait its you..” That caught mizu off guard. “Your ‘Little Miss Blue.’” She smiled looking like she was about to cry.

“The songs about me?” The girl giggled.

“Sound familiar?” She said proudly.

“Okay, whats your name?”

“Gracie, Gracie rey.”

“Okay look we need to go talk somewhere more private, because i have more questions.”

“Thats fine i know where to go.”

“Wheres that?”

“My flat, you can stay if you want, don’t torture yourself in that boat and don’t waste your money” she laughed. Mizu sighed.

“Okay fine but you try anything im going to kill you.” She said.

“Understandable.” She said at the empty threat. Gracie guided her to the flat. Mizu slightly flinched seeing it, it was in rough..shape. But people didn’t like her and that’s all she had, hey atleast she had shelter. The inside actually looked better than the outside, it looked cozy and sweet. It was styled with cute decorations, matching Gracie’s aesthetic. She pat a chair for her to sit down then sat in the one across.

“Okay so, why are you called ‘the siren?’” Mizu asked, unintentionally causing the girl to slightly flinch in disbelief.

“Please don’t actually call me that, men call me that as an insult because they claim i try to lure them in.” She paused for a moment to take a breath and calm herself. “But thats the exact opposite of what im trying to do.”

“Then what are you trying to do?”

“Don’t laugh please” she breathed out.

“I wont, i swear.”

“People usually laugh in my face when i tell them this because they think im too sensitive and too weak to lead, but im trying to start a rebellion.”

“Why?”

“Get to know me more and i’ll trust you enough to tell you.” Mizu nodded in understanding then Gracie got up and fixed a decoration on the fireplace. “Ever since i was a kid i never understood people’s way of thinking..” her venting caught Mizu’s attention. She breathed deeply before continuing. “ When i was 13 i heard about you, a man came back from japan and was literally bragging to my family about a blue eyed mixed race adolescent in japan that they are looking for. Everyone was disgusted by the thought of you but i didn’t understand why. So i stood up for you, and boy.” Gracie chuckled but Mizu didn’t open her mouth yet. “Then they called me a rebel. A siren, a demon just like they thought you were but i know neither of us actually are, they just project their biggest fears onto us which is themselves. Your not an onryo, Mizu. I think your eyes are beautiful.” She wiped a stray tear of her cheek. Then headed for her room. Mizu was glad she finally had someone who actually cared for her and was on her side but she didn’t know what to say or do. She needed time, time to process everything, her emotions and Gracie’s thoughts.

#mizu x reader #mizuxoc #mine #bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #mizuxgracie #oc x canon #canon x oc

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bcdrawsandwrites · 11 days

Text

(Please reblog if you want to, do not repost! Do not post to Pinterest!)

[ID: A Team Fortress 2 fanfic cover featuring a render of Pyro and Spy standing back-to-back in profile, with Pyro facing left and Spy facing right, standing against a dark purple background. Spy is smoking. Both characters have a yellow/orange rim lighting. Above them is the title of the fic, Flickering, glowing the same glowing yellow/orange. /end ID]

Fandom: Team Fortress 2

Rating: K+

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship

Characters: Spy, Pyro, all the other mercs, and Miss Pauling (primarily Spy and Pyro, but everyone else has important moments too)

Warnings: TF2-typical violence, PTSD, panic attacks, trauma in general (none of these guys are okay)

Description: After the events of the comics, the mercs try to go back to how things were, but it's never that easy.

Spy can see his teammates going through their own struggles… but something seems to be very, very wrong with Pyro in particular.

And since no one else seems to be doing anything about this, Spy makes it his mission to get to the bottom of what is troubling Pyro. For no particular reason.

Beta Readers: @mechmolar, @gonturan0, @junuve (Teeth (mechmolar) also did the render for the cover!)

Notes: This fic is legit like around 80% complete already because it takes me forever to actually post anything these days. I'll be posting new chapters as I feel like it. It'll be around 10 chapters in total. Also, Pyro is nonhuman and uses it/its pronouns in this fic. Okay? Okay.

---

Prologue

They were pretty sure they knew what awaited them when they got to Gray Mann's base. Or, Spy was sure, anyway. Mann was after the same Australium they were, and they'd be interrogated for what little they knew. And he wasn’t going to get that information out of them easily.

Spy’s tongue nudged one of his fake teeth. The time would come for that eventually.

His suspicions were confirmed when Demo, still distraught from the loss of Sniper, was dragged out by a couple of the enemy mercs, who snickered over the ways they could "make him talk."

That left him, Miss Pauling, Soldier, Zhanna, and Pyro, all of them chained up in a tiny room, waiting out their fate.

Well, until that thing entered.

It was the other team's pyro. Their Pyro perked up with an interested hum when it saw the other, only to jump—as much as it could with its feet chained to the floor—when the enemy pyro removed its face.

Spy had, admittedly, been caught off-guard, but rolled his eyes immediately after. This was not like their Pyro. This one was a human—a woman, her face scarred with old burns and one eye missing, her hair pepper gray with half her scalp scarred over. The fact that she was human had startled him more than any disfigurement could have.

Of course, he had to remind himself that his team was the exception, as always. They'd become so accustomed to the incredibly strange nature of their comrade that it felt eerie to actually see a human behind a similar mask.

Pyro must have felt the same, with the way it tilted its head with a hum of consternation.

The woman stared at it in turn. "Hm. This one seems promising."

Miss Pauling's head shot up, but Spy nudged her and subtly shook his head.

Unfortunately, Soldier was not on their wavelength. "That one? HAH! If you need a building burned to the ground, maybe! But Pyro doesn't talk!"

One of the woman's eyebrows raised in interest. "Really."

Spy shut his eyes, imagining himself flipping open his butterfly knife and driving it through Soldier's throat.

"Nope! It's completely incomprehensible! It can’t tell you anything! The rest of us won’t, either—we will not yield under torture, especially not me. Though I'd love to see you try!"

"Soldier, no!" Zhanna cried. "I must be tortured first!"

But the enemy pyro did not respond to them—likely still staring at their Pyro. "It doesn't, eh?" she said, putting a heavy emphasis on the pronoun. "Good. I like a challenge."

Seconds later, several robots filed into the room, immediately heading for Pyro and unlocking its shackles from the floor. Pyro mumbled something at them.

"Wait, no!" Soldier cried. "Pick me, pick me! I'm a good challenge!"

But the robots paid them no mind as they escorted Pyro out, and Spy cracked an eye open to see it showed no signs of worrying about what was about to happen. The door slammed shut, and he let out a sigh, tipping his head back. "Soldier, you are going to get us all killed."

"We're gonna die anyway!" Soldier protested. "We can at least go down fighting!"

"We are not going to go down fighting, you imbecile. We are—" He stopped himself there, deciding he didn't particularly want to reflect on their fates with someone who wasn't going to care anyway.

"Poor Pyro," Miss Pauling murmured. "What are they going to do to it?"

Spy shrugged. "Better it than us." He lowered his voice. "With luck, they'll waste several hours trying to get information out of it before they realize Soldier, idiot that he is, was more-or-less telling the truth. That may buy us some time."

"You think we can still get out of this?" she whispered, hope edging into her voice.

"Not likely. We're probably delaying the inevitable." His tongue nudged one of his molars.

"We'll have to hope.” Miss Pauling sighed, staring at the door. "I guess Demo or Pyro could break out."

Spy barely resisted the urge to snort. "The drunkard? Not likely. Pyro? Who knows."

"I still can't imagine what they would do to it."

Spy tipped his head back to regard the ceiling for a moment. "Who can say? Waterboarding, perhaps?” A random guess, and he snorted at the absurdity of it. “Though I struggle to imagine what could break that creature."

"Neither could the Administrator. That's one of the reasons she recruited it." Miss Pauling shook her head. "If that's the case, maybe it'll find a way to break out. And break us out of here."

"Unless it decides to burn down the whole base with us inside. Regardless, resisting torture and breaking free are two different things. But we shall see."

Soldier groaned. "But when's it gonna be my turn to get tortured for information?"

"Will be our turn soon," Zhanna reassured him.

Spy heaved a sigh, and Miss Pauling shut her eyes.

They sat in uncomfortable silence (save for Soldier and Zhanna's chatter) for some time, Spy keeping an eye on the door while Miss Pauling stared at the floor, lost in her own thoughts.

The minutes ticked on. For how long, Spy was uncertain—he couldn't reach his watch to read it, and the feeling of dread in the air was not helping with their perception of time. Next to him, Miss Pauling occasionally muttered to herself, and every so often he could pick up phrases.

"...and we could go back to Australia, and..."

"...if Scout or Heavy are still out there..."

"...and Sniper could... wait, no..."

Sighing, he almost considered tuning her out, but it was a good distraction from his nicotine cravings, at least.

At some point, she raised her head. "Where is it?"

Spy raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"

"Pyro. They've been keeping it for a long time."

"Yes. Demo has been gone for some time, too."

"Yeah, but... they can get information out of him." She turned to face him again, and an unspoken question hung in the air.

Spy returned her gaze. "Miss Pauling, if you are under the impression that we are in the hands of anyone other than violent sadists, I do not know what to tell you."

Before she could react, the door burst open.

“I VOLUNTEER!” Soldier cried, straining against his manacles.

But instead of their captors, Pyro stumbled into the room.

Spy would have hoped that it had indeed broken loose and come to rescue them had it not been for the fact that its hands were shackled behind its back.

The robots escorted Pyro to the end of the bench, where they shackled its feet to the floor. Meanwhile, the enemy pyro stepped into the room.

"Finally!" Soldier exclaimed. "You've had your turn, Pyro. Now it's mine!"

"Our turn," Zhanna corrected.

With an unfriendly smile, the woman turned to face them. "If you insist."

While the robots got to work escorting the two least intelligent people out of the room, Spy and Miss Pauling looked over their recently-returned companion. "Pyro?" Miss Pauling whispered. "You okay, buddy?"

Pyro said nothing, sitting still on the bench and facing forward.

"...Well, it looks okay, anyway." Miss Pauling shrugged. "Guess the Administrator was right."

"Hm." Spy's eyes narrowed as he continued to look Pyro over. While it was true that it looked more-or-less uninjured—the suit was a little roughed up, but that was it—he couldn't be too sure that it was unharmed. The enemy wouldn't have just done nothing with it, and the way Pyro did not answer them, nor even respond to its surroundings, was not encouraging.

Nor was the fact that it was trembling.

But before he could analyze Pyro's behavior any further, the doors burst open again, and this time a barely-coherent Demo was practically dragged into the room.

In the whirlwind of events that followed, the torture that their fellow mercs had endured was nearly all but forgotten.

But it would not stay that way.

#tf2 spy #tf2 pyro #miss pauling #tf2 soldier #team fortress 2 #my art #my writing #fanfic #art collab #FINALLY I AM STARTING TO POST THIS #also yes I am still planning on posting the 20-some-odd complete Psychonauts fics I have on my computer #maybe I'll post one of them tomorrow or something #flickering fanfic

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rin-and-jade · 5 months

Text

Oops.. I’ve Lost Track.. : A Post about Unintended Time Traveling

Have you ever mistook that today’s thursday and not a wednesday even if you’re so sure? Have you ever wondered why time flies so fast while nothing’s done for the day? Or maybe when those “five more minutes” promises turned into hours until its too late?

Then you might have problems with keeping track, managing, and predicting how long it takes to do something,, this is called time blindness. Which is common among neurodivergent folks.

So it was time travel..?

Surely, but not as fun as how movies convey them. Time blindness can affect people in different ways, such as:

Losing track of days, hours, or to minutes; not being aware how long it has been.

Have a faster/slower sense of internal clock. Meaning, minutes can feel like hours or vice versa.

Problems being on time to appointments, events, and etc; due to faulty predictions on how long it takes for something, such as dressing up or driving to the location.

Trouble remember when was the last time you ate a meal and drank water.

Over-focusing on a specific task/ interest and miss a huge chunk of your routine (compensating or catching up).

And more..

It often affects people with ADHD; but not always limited to autism, depression, anxiety disorders, OCD, bipolar, CDD, and even a byproduct of constant stress itself!

For the plurals out there:

There’s it’s own set of experiences + the addition of the general ones before, such as:

Time looks disoriented due to switching and lost sense of chronological anchor (can’t remember the previous moments to make sense how long time has gone by).

What happened long ago e.g. 1 month, felt like it happened last week. Vice versa.

Alters perceiving sense of time in different, varying speeds.

And, with the addition of CDD’s high comorbidity with other conditions that may worsen time blindness.

Systems can have a harder time due to the existing amnesia barriers that fragments memories, and sometimes this can be super stressful to deal with--but fret not! For whoever needs some tips, i gotchu.

What should i do??

Let's get straight to the point, here's the steps:

Create a routine. If you're prone to missing work or leisure due to it, or need to get things done on time,, having a planned schedule or routine will be the most important part. You can do this in any way preferred, for example, sticking to a 7-day plan that has your school/work/breaks in it already,, or if you're sporadic, you can pre-plan what to do for the day and jot them down as the goal.

Make use of accommodations. Set designated alarms,, maybe for your meals, or hydration reminders, or if you don't want to overshoot that gaming session. Putting clocks that can be visible in your vision also can help keeping you on track. Create checklists to keep track of your chores or whatnot. Maybe write down notes on today's progress, anything with your own creativity!

Break work into smaller steps to ease up. Sometimes procrastination can accompany time blindness, leaving us to do 0 work until its near deadline or the day is almost over, separating the tasks to smaller bits and do them in pieces on your own pace. And sometimes your focus is prone to wander to places if the task is too long or tedious/boring, so this also helps.

Be aware of which activities you're prone to forget time. List or remember them so whenever you wanted to hop back in a special interest, actively remind yourself beforehand and you may make use of number 2.

Lastly, commit to it. This is where all the magic is at, and there will still be days where it tumbles apart and you miss a couple of things.. don't worry, we all are never perfect, there'll always be a day or two where everything's messy and miss that deadline or other stuffs. You haven't failed, keep going.

I hope this could serve you hope that your time blindness is 100% manageable, this post is for every neuro-spicy folks (and systems) out there who's struggling with it,, and i hear your struggles! Feel free to add on your experience or engage with the post if you have any further questions.

(This post is applicable to everyone in need)

- j

#did #actually did #did community #sysblr #plural #system stuff #adhd #neurodiversity #time blindness #autism #jeducates

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drdemonprince · 5 months

Note

Probably a trivial question during a shitty time globally, but I'm going a bit crazy trying to figure this out and need help.

For some reason, people cancel last-minute alarmingly frequently when I host gatherings on days that are extremely important to me. I am talking mainly about my birthday and that of my partner but also a huge milestone graduation do last year was a nightmare as well. Neither I nor my partner have any meaningful relationships with our families anymore due to political differences and rely on our friends for the sense of home and belonging most people get from families.

Except this is a bit of a wasteland, as I struggle to form and maintain close friendships because of how unreliable and disappointing people have been for a while. This is not an individual (although there are a couple of people who I know will cancel every time) but a pattern. Someone will forget to book the right train ticket, another will only lurk on the event group chat and then comment for the first time before the event to say no. One person memorably just said they wanted to keep the option of a weekend gateway open so they could only come to my graduation party if they decided not to do that. Am I missing something here? Is this normal? I need consistency and dependability to feel safe and I feel like people I'd normally choose as friends (witty, nerdy interests, progressive) turn out to be incredibly bad at showing up for me when I need them. A friend I thought was close went completely mum after I graduated and didn't congratulate me at all - after having discussed the degree and its struggles with me for 2 years. Part of me feels like I need to rebuild my circle from scratch and maybe find people I can talk to honestly about my needs from the beginning of the friendship. But it feels so late and desolate to start this process in my mid-thirties. Everyone else has friends they grew up with and who know everything about their lives. Meanwhile, I am at the stage where I have no close friends at all anymore because my needs seem too absurd to even discuss with anyone except my partner, and if I do, I just lose friendships. I remember reading your piece on how to do social things as an autistic person last year and feeling very inspired so I thought I'd reach out to you.

This is all exceedingly, exceedingly normal, especially in the days post COVID for a variety of reasons. When I make plans with people, I assume that roughly 30-75% of the people invited are not going to show up, and I've completely made my peace with that. A friend of mine hosted a movie night a few weeks back, invited I believe around 15 people, and ultimately four showed up, many people being last-minute cancellations or total no shows.

This happens for a variety of reasons. Many people are very socially anxious and decide at the last minute they don't have it in them to show up because they're freaking out. Other people say yes when the event is days or weeks down the line, wanting in the abstract to be there, but then on the actual day of the event, practical daily life constraints are far more visible than they were when the event was just an idea, and so then they have to bail. Other people feel really bad saying no, and so they wait for the last minute to share that they can't make it. And lots of people are so bombarded with notifications on a variety of social media sites and chatting platforms that they just forget all that they've committed to. And then you add into that random illness, flat tires, crying kids, and the like, and you have a lot of reasons why people don't show up to things.

Personally, I have come to accept this. If I go into event planning assuming most people can't make it, my feelings aren't hurt. Every person who does show up is a gift. My invites are an opportunity, a true invitation, not an obligation or an expectation. I don't hurt my feelings in advance by telling myself that I need a high turnout for my birthday or that because I've worked hard making a certain dish for a party (I never actually do that admittedly lol) that a lot of people need to come and eat it.

And I invite people that I like and want to see, over and over again, because I care about them, and I want to show them that I care about them and that I understand they have other things going on and I am not offended that life got in the way for them. I want them to feel loved and included, even if they can't make it. Even the gesture of inviting a person to an event and them showing some interest is a meaningful act of maintaining social connections, for me. And so if they can't make it on the day of, that's fine by me.

I'm 35. My friends are anywhere from 21 to 60-something. People cancel events because of sick kids, broken down cars, long work weeks, depression, double-bookings, writing deadlines, social anxiety, busted ankles, not wanting to see one person they're currently having a difficult situation with, and any number of other factors. If you love people long enough, they get really complicated and their lives get really hard. I find that the most beautiful and friendship-sustaining thing one can do is to not take it personally, because you're going to need that same grace yourself plenty of times. People will drop of the map for months or years sometimes because they're going through hell, and you dont to deprive yourself of being open to reconnection when they're available again.

There's really no need to read anything into the randomness of life. This stuff will happen, so it's rational to expect it, and loving to not mind it too much.

Do you need to make some new friends? Maybe so! I have multiple different friend groups and I think that's healthy. You may find the no-shows less painful if you have more people to lean on. It's always good to form new connections, learn new things about yourself, expand your skills and understanding of the world through new information and experiences. But should you start over, and ditch your friends who are flakey? I don't think so. To be loved is to be sometimes flaked upon (and to flake). In this capitalistic, individualistic hellscape it's vitally important that we extend one another grace.

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ksspringfever · 4 months

Text

K/S Spring Fever – FAQs and Rules

Why is K/S Day on March 24th?

William Shatner's birthday is March 22nd, Leonard Nimoy's birthday March 26th. K/S Day was originally based on the pattern of Presidents' Day in the U.S. which takes place on the third Monday of February every year. When fans invented K/S Day in 1997, the idea was to pick the Monday closest to Shatner's and Nimoy's birthdays, and that happened to be Monday, March 24th. While President's Day is not on a fixed date each year but can move a few days back and forth depending on the date of the third Monday of February, K/S Day is always celebrated on the 24th of March; it just makes things easier.

Wait, I thought there's a K/S Day in September?

In 2009, K/S fans on social media declared September 15th as K/S Day, as this was the original air date of Amok Time in 1967. It is likely that they had no idea that this fannish holiday had already been created a decade earlier. September 15th is therefore the date most likely associated with K/S Day on Twitter and Tumblr. K/S Spring Fever takes place in time for K/S Day #1, but we wholeheartedly welcome the existence of a K/S Day #2. There can never be too many days to celebrate the delight of K/S! ;-)

Do I have to be on Dreamwidth in order to take part in this fest?

No, a DW account is not required. We have a community on Dreamwidth for announcements and discussion, but schedules and important admin posts will always be publicly visible. The only account you really need for this fest is an AO3 account. You are, of course, encouraged to post/link to your work anywhere you like to after creator reveals.

Is this a fic exchange?

No. K/S Spring Fever is a prompt meme, that means participants will not get matched one-on-one and assigned to a gift recipient as is the case in exchanges. So no one is guaranteed a "gift", but there's also much less pressure on participants. Members sign up and post prompts until the defined deadline (see the schedule). Prompts can be claimed by anyone who has an account on the AO3, and the resulting fanworks need to be posted to the collection until the deadline according to schedule. If you need more detailed information on how a prompt meme works (e.g. how to edit your prompts, where to find your claimed prompts etc), please see this section in the AO3 FAQ.

Do I need to be signed up to claim & fill a prompt? What if I missed the sign-up phase?

Admittedly, the term "sign-up" is a tiny bit misleading. The "sign-up" form is for submitting your prompts; if you would like to claim & fill prompts without submitting a prompt yourself, then you do not need to go through the "sign-up" form. Just browse the list of prompts other fans submitted and use the "claim" button to pick whatever tickles your muse. When you claim a prompt it shows up under "My claims" on the collection profile and under "Claims" on your own dashboard. Use the "fulfil" button to post your work, please.

"Spring fever"? Is this a pon farr fest?

Your fanwork does not need to include fever (pon farr or not) or spring. There is no theme for this fest apart from its focus on Kirk and Spock. Feel free to go wild with your prompts.

Rules

1. K/S Spring Fever is an event for adults as some prompts or fanworks might be mature or explicit. By taking part you confirm that you are 18 or older.

2. The focus of your work should be on the pairing Kirk/Spock or Kirk & Spock. Slash (romantic and/or sexual relationship) and gen (friendship) are equally welcome. K/S has many layers and aspects, and this day is a celebration of them all. No other pairings will be accepted in this fest.

3. When we say K/S, we mean: both TOS (series and movies) and reboot; Discovery and Strange New Worlds content is also welcome (let's hope we'll get some K/S-worthy material from these series one day). No RPF, please. AUs and mirror universe are welcome.

4. Crossovers between different Trek franchises or between Trek and other media are permitted if the individual prompt states this or actively invites them.

5. All ratings are welcome in this fest. However, when you fill a prompt please stick to the preferred rating of the prompter (if stated in the prompt).

6. All genres welcome, including darker subjects if the prompter asks for them (as long as DNWs are respected). Use the AO3 warnings if applicable.

7. Prompts can be filled by more than one person. You can even fill the same prompt multiple times – the "fulfil" button will show up on the prompt you claimed even if you have already used it for posting a work before.

8. Participants can fill as many prompts as they want to. You can even fill your own prompt.

9. Please list your DNWs (Do-Not-Wants) in the prompt if you want to avoid certain types of content, e.g. rape or character death or specific tropes. When you submit several prompts, please state your DNWs for each. We kindly ask you to not abuse the DNW system: keep it short and simple, and don't box in your creator. When you fill a prompt, please respect the DNWs listed in the request.

10. All types of fanworks are welcome in this fest: fic, poetry, filks, art, vids, podfic etc. Made a giant cake with life-size Kirk and Spock marzipan figures? Post the photos.

11. Minimum word count for written fanworks is 100 words. There is no maximum word count. Minimum for art: a doodle or clean sketch (on unlined paper, if you use traditional media); manips are permitted. No banner or icon art, please, unless it accompanies a work of fiction. Absolutely no AI-generated art or fic allowed!!

12. Fanworks in languages other than English are allowed. As this is not a one-on-one gift exchange, but a prompt fest, fanworks in languages other than English are absolutely permitted and welcome! Each prompt can inspire a wide variety of fanworks, and as long as you respect the DNWs and the maximum rating of the chosen prompt, it’s all fine!

13. Please keep your work anonymous until creator reveals and don't blabber about it on social media. Guessing who wrote what is part of the fun.

14. Works posted to the collection must be new (created for this fest and unpublished) and complete. No WIPs or placeholder uploads! If you post a work with more than one chapter, it must be complete before the due date. Podfics of older and published works are allowed, as the podfic itself counts as new work.

15. We allow extra works to be posted to the collection: If nothing among the submitted prompts tickles your muse, and if you missed the chance of submitting a prompt that you could have filled yourself, then you can still take part in K/S Spring Fever by posting the work directly to the collection, without using any "claim" or "fulfil" button. Make sure to put the correct collection name into the appropriate field during the posting process (e.g. for 2024 the collection name is "KS_SpringFever2024", without the quote marks), so that the work stays unrevealed and anonymous until we go live / until creators are revealed. We think of these extra works as treats for the whole community. However, please do have a good look at the list of prompts before you choose to take this road. There are such lovely prompts waiting for creators to pick them, and this should take priority over treats.

16. Last but not least: Be courteous to the other participants, act in good faith and assume good faith. For all questions, please contact the mod (DW, Tumblr, or email: [email protected]). We are happy to help!

#k/s spring fever #space husbands #spirk #kirk x spock #kirk spock #star trek #faq #rules

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plasmaapologist · 1 year

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...just realized i left my introduction in the drafts. oops. at least i have a better photo now.

my names tula, and i'm a registered pokémon nurse with a horrible tendency to ramble. i live in unova and do some work here, but i mainly travel to other regions for this.

i am a former member of team plasma. former. my username is ironic because i cope with humor.

i ran away from home at age 14- it's a long story - and ended up being indoctrinated in. i, like many others, were lucky to have a sort of "snap to reality" moment after ghetsis' first arrest, before the formation of neo plasma, but not before i spent 10 years of my life working for him. many people are shocked by how open i am about my experience, but i think its extremely important to talk about these things: if i could help just one person leave this cycle, or keep someone from entering it, then it would make the shame worth it.

i have dedicated my life to helping pokémon, as a way to attone, i suppose. my darling solosis, mini, travels with me, though i must admit she's quite the spoiled brat. to have such an innocent creature love and trust you is the most healing experience someone can ask for, and i acknowledge that i was so very lucky. i had a home to return to, i was able to find work despite my history, and physically, i bear only a scar on my back and a missing finger... also just so we all know i am a natural ginger and i am not going to dye my hair please stop asking thanks

feel free to ask me any questions you may have: about pokemon, about myself, or my experience with team plasma, any of the sort. and if you need help leaving neo plasma or a group like it, please shoot me a message, i'll give you all the advice i can.

- tula ☆

ooc and admin info:

hi! im cassini, im 21, and i have not rpd since middle school. please be nice

im okay with joining events and plotlines! but i do not know how to join in naturally and get too embarrassed to ask. please shoot me a message/invite! muse list bellloowwwww tulas info

im not lore compliant at times and am even willing to bend (most) of my own headcanons bc multiverse and the likes! very flexible in general

okay more important tula things:

- sapient pokemon interaction is okay! tula will generally believe them. shes seen weirder. legendaries will be met with much more scrutiny, but kindness.

- i keep her age purposefully vauge for "pokemon timeline makes no sense" reasons, but you can generally imagine her somewhere between 26-30, probably.

- shes been through a lot and often copes with humor, which means she tends to come off the wrong way a lot of the time

- though open about her time in plasma, she doesnt like talking about how it affected her

- she speaks before thinking and often posts in bursts do to this

- she has a pretty shitty memory

MUSE LIST:

Timeline 1:

Tula Gagnon - @plasmaapologist (OC. 📍Unova. Birthday: January 1st)

Callisto Aoki - @cherishcherubi (OC. 📍 Kalos. Birthday: October 25th)

Iolana Kealoha - @teamskullkalos (OC. 📍Kalos. Birthday: April 12th)

Timeline 2:

Mari Pijotto - @marifromkoto (OC. 📍Paldea. Birthday: December 18th)

Katy - @patisserie-soapberry (Canon. 📍Paldea.)

Atticus - @navisquadatticus (Canon. 📍Paldea.)

Larry - @medali-gym (Canon. 📍Paldea. Half joke blog.)

Robin Lusk - @absolsrenegade (OC/Self Insert. 📍Unova. Birthday: July 5th)

Timeline 3:

Timeline Unknown:

Grise (Hilda Lewis) - @driftingtrainer (Canon. 📍 Vagabond. Birthday: October 5th)

Rochelle Ichihara - @basaltpowder (OC. 📍Hoenn. Birthday ??? )

Barbie & Ken: @championbarbie-swimmerken - (It's fucking Barbie. Yeah, the pink one. 📍 Everywhere. She's Barbie. Birthdays: March 9th, March 11th)

Ice - @rottenice OC. 📍Primarily Sinnoh, but travels a lot. Birthday: December 21st. Please read content warnings in the pinned post.

Miki Nakajima - @nakajima-lgm OC.📍 Johto. Birthday unknown. Please read content warnings in the pinned post.

@galacticfoundation - Team Galactic AU blog.

@twotoypokemon Pokémon Rumble based blog. Sapient Pokémon OC. 📍Axel Town

#yes. i was a platoon leader and had a sword.#yes. i do still own it. its good self defense when you dont have a pokemon who likes fighting.#pkmn irl #rotomblr #unreality #pokeblogging #[admin note: tulas current age is purposefully vauge for “pokemon timeline makes no sense” reasons]#[also i'm totally fine with your character having some beef with tula due to her... past employment. it does fit her character :)]#[if you have any questions for admin feel free to ask in the comments!]

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archiveikemen · 2 months

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life update from niki???

so erm HI EVERYONE i uninstalled tumblr for a while because i needed a break to deal with some adulting problems and other bullshit ahaha explains the lack of updates

i also haven't been paying much attention to the games my blog provides content from e.g. ikevil, ikegen, morudoru etc. because yeah ya girl is busyyy SOOOOOOOO i honestly have no idea what's going on in any of those games atm heh if you wanna give me a crash course i'm up

ANYWAY as much as i'd love to be actively uploading stories again, i don't think i'll be able to do so very efficiently for another month or two because my master hand is badly injured and i only have 9 functioning fingers left for the time being 💀💀

now the important part:

• my blog will shift its focus onto games that don't / won't have a localisation e.g. Genjiden, Morudoru — reason being that VillainsEN will be out very soon, you can enjoy the official translations there instead.

• the updated version of IkeGen's ACT II prologue is still a WIP. i'll upload it as soon as it's completed. (Uploaded! Check Genjiden masterlist.)

• very old translations such as IkeGen's ACT I prologue will be updated with better translations once i have the time to slowly proofread them (i didn't check shit when i tl-ed it 2 years ago).

• i will no longer be purchasing any paid stories i.e. anything that costs real money and also diamonds. as i transition into a new phase in life, i decided to cut down on the portion of my paycheck i spend on my 2D husbands.

• translating every single new event that comes out is also no longer something i can do; which means i'll only tl events i'm interested in / there's a high demand for it. you can feel free to ask me if i'll tl something, but that doesn't mean i'll definitely tl it.

• translation works for harrison's main story will be permanently halted — he's a starter route, you'll be able to romance him in ikevilEN very soon.

• please allow me to catch up with the morganatic idol content i've missed... i'll most likely be redoing and re-uploading all the character profiles. (Done! Check @morudoru for all future morudoru content!)

although i won't be posting a lot of ikevil from now on, i hope everyone will still remember me as liam's #1 fan (lighthearted)

#not a translation #from niki

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unovan-gardener · 2 months

Note

//heyy I hate to ask this bc it's probably annoying/inconvenient but my brain does this dumb thing where it's like, "you can't interact with that person, you're months out of date with their lore" which is stupid but brains suck sometimes

//so. I hate asking this cause it's probably time consuming but. Could I maybe have a summary (doesn't need to be detailed!!) of unovanra (& possibly joltik guy, since you guys are very connected characters I think) lore? Specifically after minkst went to jail

//I know this would probably take for ever, so if you just give me arc tags or a link to posts with major events that's totally fine too! I don't mind reading through stuff at all and I like your writing! But if I didn't have a starting point / label of "here's what's important" I'd try to Read Everything and get burned out

//Thank you! Sorry! Your characters are cool! AAAAA

//okay!!!

i will do my best!!! it will be under the cut for length!! HEED TAGS SERIOUSLY THIS IS SUPER LONG. ITS FROM LATE NOVEMBER TO NOW. ITS SO LONG. PLEASE.

NOV 24-29: okay so! after Minsk got arrested, CD stayed with their dad for a while, since their dad found out how their face got burned and he did a skin grafting surgery on their wound. CD is scared of catmons after this. While CD is in surgery and recovering, their dad (Atley Deo) takes over the account briefly (his tag is #pater plantarum). He is the head of Deo horticulture, a plant based business. Auzi owes Atley a blood debt. Atley asks about service mon and everyone and their mother suggests a smeargle. It is revealed that CD's mother and Atleys wife died in childbirth. Joltiks boyfriend breaks up with them while CD is out. When they come back they are very woozy.

NOV 30-DEC 1: CD decides to adopt an eevee egg from @/allthatglitterzz, and they receive a smeargle service mon to monitor their heart "arrythmia" , lovingly named Stencil. nobody thinks its an actual arrythmia and also people are even more theorizing that he is a plant. Speaking of that arrythmia, CD has a heart attack while home alone, and Stencil calls Joltik instead of their dad to come help. Their heart had stopped entirely, but a zap from Tik sets it back going again. Joltik calls CD's dad, and then leaves before Atley comes home.

DEC 2-DEC 6 : The eevee egg hatches! She is a beautiful baby girl and her name is Porridge, Pidge for short. CD is diagnosed with the TIsm for plant identification reasons /joke. CD and Joltik watch a lot of competition reality tv shows.

DEC 7-DEC 8: Nothing really important happens

DEC 9- DEC 15 : Joltik asks CD to catch them in a pokeball. CD keeps buying candles and they keep going missing, much to their annoyance. CD catches Joltik and it goes poorly, Joltik gets a bit messed up because of it. His candles continue to go missing, people begin to theorize about litwik. A new problem arises: a resident with a mightyena that is hopped up on X attack is roaming campus. DEC 16- : A candle appears on CD's windowsill, looking a lot like a litwick, although it has no flame. its merged into the windowsill and cannot be moved. It continues to amass more wax. CD names it Kerosene, after being hounded a bit by anons. DEC 17 -18 : Pidge briefly goes being, being found in Joltik's dorm. She knocks over a drawing filled with thunder stones and evolves into a Jolteon. Mightyena guy comes back, CD is on duty and patrols to chase him off. CD runs into him on patrol, and Pidge gets her ear torn off by the mightyena. CD goes offline, and Kerosene takes over the phone. It is implied that Kero evolved into a lanpent and consumes the mightyena to save CD. Kero uses a spirit box to communicate, saying that CD was at a pokecenter, and asking for help as she is lost. Joltik comes to find her. DEC 18 -23 Nothing overly important happens. CD accidentally helps Joltiks eevee Mint evolve into Umbreon.

DEC 23- 26: CD's dad finds out about the mightyena attack, and wants to assign CD a bodyguard which they think is stupid. their dad makes them stay home for a while. Tik comes to visit and watch shows while Atley is out. Atley comes back early, but isnt mad, just starts interrogating Tik a bit.

DEC 27-30 : Christmas present from dad!! It's a sprigatito named trowel!! Technically Juniper's first canon interaction with CD! @/sinnohstruggles

DEC 31: Lucretia Minsk escapes prison

JAN 1: the nuytsia project arc starts. should be tagged #the nuytsia project but is occasionally mispelled as #the nuystia project. Summary: joltik is infected by a parasite that makes them compulsed to protect and take care of CD, CD is revealed to be kept alive by a living plant inside them after being stillborn. Atley gains remote access of CD's phone for a brief takeover to try and explain why he did what he did. Atley then proceeds to let himself be taken to jail without struggle. CD is very very sad and distressed by the events of the arc. ARC OFFICIALLY ENDED JAN 8

JAN 9-12 : not a whole lot of importance here, cd gets sleepy and slow in the cold because plant. Juniper and CD start dating and they are cute lmao JAN 13-20 :CD's granparents get in contact, finally hearing that Atley is in jail. They attempt to get custody of CD, all of the pokemon, and all of Atley's assets. Atley did not get along well with his parents and a Lawyer will be in contact with CD, as they are being taken to court. CD quits their job as an RA and drops out of college due to stress from the oncoming court case. They begin lashing out a bit, because of the stress. CD has an argument with Juniper where Juniper attempts to help them but CD feels like they are being treated like a child. They throw the phone at the wall in frustration and Kero takes over the account. During the court case, CD has a heart attack due to the stress, and their grandparents use that to win the case, gaining custody over CD and all of Atley's assets.

JAN 21-22 : CD is taken to live with their grandparents. Their pokemon are taken from them, leaving them only with Stencil, Trowel, and Pidge (as well as Kerosene who is there secretly). CD is locked in their room at the grandparents house during this period, not allowed to leave. The house is cold and they feel slow and sick, not allowed plants or anything from home. They are fed food that makes them sick. CD begins sending audio messages to their friends, but they are short because they get in trouble when caught. It is revealed that the house is in Icirrus City. Kerosene evolved into a Chandelure in order to melt the window and get CD out of the house. JAN 23-FEB 1 : CD's phone is still broken, so they post audio recordings for a while. While in the Snowy forest, CD finds a eevee named Kiwi in a basket, who becomes very clingy and comes along with. It is revealed that CD has now been declared a missing person by their Grandparents. ALSO JUNIPER AND CD ACTUALLY STARTED DATING THE 28TH I FUCKED UP. Anons start hounding CD to go to moss rock because they think it will activate CD's latent plant powers. CD notably doesnt want Kiwi to evolve and gives kiwi 5 everstones. Kiwi dips once they get to pinwheel and loses all their everstones somehow, evolving into a leafeon, much to cds dismay. CD goes home very grumpy about this.

FEB 2- :Silvervine arc starts. should be tagged #silvervine arc. Summary: kiwi roots into cd, merging into them and making them a leafeon hybrid. minsk kidnaps CD, brainwashing/mindcontrolling them with her control over cat-mon. The hybridization merge makes CD have a rush of endorphins and dopamine to minimize the pain, giving them a floaty fuzzy feeling. cd helps minsk with some gardening ;3 lore is dropped, and CD escapes, fully hybridized, but still somewhat conditioned to listen to certain command phrases told to them by minsk, and feeling floaty fuzzy when they fall into leafeon instincts. THIS ARC ENDED FEB 5TH FEB 5th- Onward: Juniper went to a psych ward after stress from CD not wanting to see him post hybridization, he is still there. CD is briefly blocked by both tik and juniper. CD goes to live in lostlorn for a while. CD kinda breaks up with Juniper??? unclear. CD can now spead to cat mon and understand grass types. they meet a tropius named Yache who joins their team. CD lives with Juniper's pokemon team for a while before an argument happens and they leave again. now theyre kinda homeless! also! they turned into a leafeon for a few days and now they can kinda do that sometimes maybe work in progress I hope this was helpful!!!

#tw kidnapping #tw brainwashing #tw mindcontrol #tw manipulation #tw pysch ward #pokeblogging #rotomblr #pkmn irl #pokemon irl #irl pokemon #irl pkmn #pokeblr #anon ask

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winterspiderpurrs · 1 year

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Part 1 listed in the link above!

Part 2:

Sighing as Tony hung up the phone in his office. Widow just confirmed that Winter and her were almost here to hand over the information he requested. Though they wanted to question Peter first. Which irritated Tony, but if it will help solve the mystery of who knocked up Peter, he would allow it. Anything to help protect his family.

It's been a few hours since Stephen showed up, the equipment delivered, ultrasound down, images printed. 100% confirmed that his little bambino was pregnant. Atleast Peter was almost done with getting his doctorate and this won't hinder his career. As if Stephen would allow that. If he could start going into labor while operating its sure as he'll that Peter could keep up with his lab work. [As long as extra safety precautions were made cause of the pregnancy]

Walking up the stairs to Peter's old bedroom, he thinks of how this is so similar to how he found out he was going to be a father the first time. At a charity event for the local hospital all those years ago. Ego met ego when he met Stephen. He never met an omega that was so Alpha like. They carried on their tic for tac into a heated night that lasted til morning. It was 4 months later when Stephen showed up at the restaurant where he hosts meetings at times for reality of that night comes rushing back. Tony had already had the business set up for Harley to take over. While he still acts young, Tony knows at some point he would be too old to keep going. He never thought he would have a family of his own. He rushed to make sure that even if Stephen didn't want to raise the baby, he would take care of anything. Moved him in and doing his best to woo the Omega. It was a year after Peter was born that they officially became a bonded pair.

They set it up where Peter's address and "guardianship" would be under his god mothers ' Aunt May' to help alleviate attention that he was Tony Starks omega son. He went to the best private school in Queens, distancing him for the Manhattan area as best as he could. Safety was the biggest priority that Stephen stressed for his pups. Yes, pups. Surprise, surprise, when Peter was 16, Stephen ended up pregnant, again shocking the family. Miss Morgan Strange was born. Peter absolutely dotted on his alpha little sister.

Sighing one more time before opening the door to the bedroom, Tony paused before smiling. At the center of the bed was Peter snuggling up to Stephen on the bed. Stephen gently combing his fingers through his hair. They were whispering to each other, " and if they are fools and don't want anything to do with them. We will always take care of you and the pups. Family is important." Stephen stopped talking, looking over at Tony in the doorway. Tony cleared his throat. " Pete... I'm sorry for... reacting how I did. I was just worried... Widow and Winter are headed over with information for us. They want to talk to you first if you won't mind meeting them down in the study. "

Peter's eyes widen, he has met Natasha, and she was practically an older sister/aunt to him. He has only heard of rumors about Winter.

Stephen and Peter untangle from each other before getting out of bed to head downstairs following behind Tony. Once downstairs, Peter goes into the study while Stephen stays out in the hallway with Tony. Not long after, Natasha shows up with Winter, aka James 'Bucky' Barnes, and shockingly Steve Rogers. Tony frowning. " Winter, I know you know that I tolerate your... choice in mate. But we really dont need goody twoshoes getting involved in this... private matter. " Steve frowns before opening his mouth, but Bucky beats him in addressing Tony." Don't worry, Stark, Steve here has recon in the area... once we confirm a few details, things will get sorted. In the study, Natalia said?" Bucky nods toward the door of the study.

Tony says and waves his hand. " Yeah, yeah. Go easy on him. No unnecessary stress. Nat introduce?" Natasha nods and goes to the study, opening the door and smiles " Oh my little spider, I have some friends here that need to talk with you" she waves Bucky and Steve over and the men enter the room but Natasha does not enter and closes the door. Tony frowns and stares at her. " Why you let Winter bring his Alpha with him? Do you want to stress Peter out more? Also lack luster introductions- he has never met Winter. Only heard of him and not even a warning? And why are you looking at me like that, Stephen?"

Eyebrow raised as Stephen stared at Tony, eyes flickering toward the door and then back at Tony. Blinking Tony looks at the door and then back at Stephen. Stephen tilts his head and looks at the door before back at Tony again. Frowning, he looks at Natasha, who's blocking the door. Then it clicks. Two Alphas. Natasha could have just brought him the names. There's no need to bring Winter over here.

He started to stutter in disbelief before the anger rolled back in. He growled loud and rushed the door. Thankfully, Natasha moved to side, but she had a unbuckled the gun from her holster. " Don't do anything stupid Tony. You have to think of Peter." Blinded be rage at the audacity that these two Alphas picked HIS child to fuck with? Tony rips the door open and off its hinge. " The fuck is the meaning of this!?" But Tony deflates at the scene infront of him.

Inside of the study on the couch was Steve with Peter on his lap, looking at the sonogram photo, a dopey smile on his lips, arm wrapped around him. Bucky was kneeling on the ground in front of the pair, nuzzling up again Peter's stomach, gentle rumbles coming from him with his arms wrapped around them.

Well shit.

*********------***********-------***********

So.... it's been a month since I typed up Part 1 and it's not where I want it to be. But kept thinking about it and just had to get it out.

Hopefully you like it @professional-benaddict and @no-name-for-me since yall said ya wouldn't mind a part 2!

#writing prompt #winterspidershield #stucky plus peter #omega peter parker #alpha steve rogers #alpha bucky #mob tony stark #mob au #winterspiderpurrs #winterspider #spidershield #peter parker x bucky barnes #shieldspider

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singular-yike · 6 months

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Getting into Len'en Lore: Part 1

Cause I mean there's a lot of it, isn't there?

With the 10th anniversary coming up I thought it might be nice to share my personal recommended reading order(?) for all the Len'en material, for people who really want to dig into the lore.

Of course, I'm sure most folks reading this are already neck-deep into the lore swamp but hey, on the off chance that it reaches someone new, right?

Getting the information in English

To start off, you'd either have to learn Japanese, or find a good translation for the series and its associated materials. Here I'll go with English, since it's, well what I'm writing in.

The Len'en wiki, for 99% of all cases, will absolutely be where you want to go to read up on the lore and translation of Japanese material.

All of the translations on the wiki have been diligently worked on by me and other brilliant translators, and even now we revisit old translations to polish them up, so I guarantee it's quality (I suppose there's no reason to trust me, but I do promise).

Now the wiki also has links to English patches for all 4 of the shmup games, if you'd prefer to read the dialogue in-game, though I must note that they won't be the most updated version of the dialogue, and have further paraphrasing to trim things down to fit textboxes.

Still, they're more than enough for getting a basic understanding of the plot, and the visual elements of the game are not to be missed out on, so do give the games a go!

The Reading List

Now that the preamble is over with, let's actually get into my recommended order for lore-exploration. Forewarning: It's a lot, so brace yourself for some good old reading.

Major Entries in Release Order

The first place to start is of course each of the series entries in release order, though there are some curiosities about how this series tells its story through changes to the games itself, so I'll walk you through those as well.

These are separated into "story reading order" and "additional reading", the first ones are pretty much necessary to, well, understand the story.

Additional reading, on the other hand, are not as crucial to grasping the story, and will be ordered from most important to least.

They often contain little tidbits of lore tucked within, and are fun reads perhaps only for fans of JynX writing or those who really want to dig deep.

Game 1: Evanescent Existence

We of course start with the first game in the series, Len'en Mugenri ~ Evanescent Existence (often abbreviated as EE in English).

Story Reading Order

Prologue

Yabusame Houlen's story — Main Story → Bad Ending → Good Ending → Extra Story

Tsubakura Enraku's story — Main Story → Bad Ending → Good Ending → Extra Story

Official Profiles

Additional Reading

Music Room Comments

Spell Cards

Documentation Pages — omake.txt, manual.txt, readme.txt, readme.txt (trial ver.)

Note: Bad Endings Bad endings are non-canon in all of the games, in the sense that the events depicted within haven't actually occurred. They're still very useful to read as "what-if" scenarios though, since they actually provide a lot of interesting information.

Game 2: Earthen Miraculous Sword

Moving onto game #2, simple enough. Here's Len'en Tasouken ~ Earthen Miraculous Sword (abbr. EMS).

Story Reading Order

Prologue

Main Story (Any character order is fine) — Yabusame Houlen: Story → Bad Ending → Good Endings A & B — Tsubakura Enraku: Story → Bad Ending → Good Endings A & B — Kuroji Shitodo: Story → Bad Ending → Good Endings A & B

Extra Prologue

Extra Story (Any character order is fine) — Yabusame Houlen, Tsubakura Enraku, Kuroji Shitodo

Official Profiles

Note: Good Endings A and B The two endings differ only in a single textbox at the very end, so no need to read it twice, just jump to the very end to see the difference. Or honestly, since it doesn't affect the story at all, you're free to just read either one and be done with it.

Additional Reading

Music Room Comments

Spell Cards

Documentation Pages — omake.txt, manual.txt, readme.txt & readme.txt (trial ver.)

Note: On the EMS Documentation Pages EE and EMS were actually released at the same time, as a result some files are unnecessary to read. ・omake.txt: Only different in the game title ・readme.txt files: Identical in every way in the trial version The manual and readme files are however different, so give them a glace if you'd please.

Game 3: Reactivate Majestical Imperial

Onto the 3rd entry: Len'en Reiretsuden ~ Reactivate Majestical Imperial (abbr. RMI). This game first introduces the team system, so each story features 2 playable characters.

Story Reading Order

Prologue

Main Story (Any team order is fine) — Shrine: Story → Bad Ending → Good Endings A & B — Bottle Opener: Story → Bad Ending → Good Endings A & B — Slaver: Story → Bad Ending → Good Endings A & B

Extra Prologue

Extra Story (Any team order is fine) — Shrine, Bottle Opener, Slaver

Official Profiles

Note: Good Endings A & B This time, the two endings have more differences, stemming from a slightly different outcome of the main scenario. So I'd personally recommend giving both a read. Though to be fair there's no functional difference between the two in terms out final outcome. So I wouldn't say that you must read both to understand the plot or anything.

Additional Reading

Music Room Comments

Spell Cards

Documentation Pages — manual.txt & readme.txt

★ Len'en Kanji Change

It is while working on the next entry of the series that JynX decided to change the kanji "Len'en" is written with, from 鏈縁 to 連縁, changing the first character, as you can see above.

There's actually quite a bit to read about this, though since it doesn't relate to the story, I'll just mention that this happened for now, more on this later. Onto the next game!

End of Part 1

This actually got so long that I couldn't fit it all in one post, so let's end things here and move onto part 2!

#len'en project #len'en #len'en lore

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