#what's a consistent upload schedule?

[when-worlds-end]

@oldiesstationlover11607 has basically agreed to being repeatedly barraged with blurbs and screeches about scenes I come up with when listening to music. Sorry not sorry. ♡

My beta reader count is now 2.5!!

[saltedcaramelchaos]

THE FIRST STATEMENT IS UP!!! HAPPY SPOOKY SEASON

[a-tired-gothamite]

Ted says the guys are still in my apartment.

uh... I guess I don't care?? They're helping me look for my cat so I guess that's a win.

Sure hope this doesn't become a recurring pattern.

-Sam

[thespacebetweenwebcomic]

I’m still mad the cover of “Let’s do it (let’s fall in love)” I drew a this to is still not on Spotify.

[knee-stockings]

sometimes I want to be a youtube gamer who does her best to play horror games despite being an absolute wimp

[lifeintheworldtocome]

new litwtc episode tomorrow or the day after that.......

[webism]

pornstar!nanami who has a signature style to his videos—all of which are solo content consisting of him, manspreading in front of the camera in an awfully expensive suit. as his hands trace the muscles of his thighs, the seams of his trousers, the outline of his hardened cock.

pornstar!nanami who always takes his time getting to the good stuff, his voice silken as he speaks to those watching him. praise falls from his lips, which are always just out of view—the man doesn't dare show his face. something about professionalism and all.

pornstar!nanami whose videos usually end with him cumming into his closed fist, or into a toy if he's feeling so inclined. as a long time viewer of him, you've come to learn a few things about how he orgasms—he always bucks his hips up, chasing that instinct to breed. he always moans like he's in heat just before his climax, but because he's not great with breathing through his orgasms he chokes up just as he falls over the edge—it's a pretty sound.

pornstar!nanami who sometimes gets messy with it—he's such an organised and ritualistic man in his day-to-day that he sometimes just wants to let loose. sometimes, he'll only pull his cock out of his pants through the fly, and let the world watch as his precum dribbles all over those pressed pants of his. oh and does he go feral knowing that he's dirtying something so expensive with the receipts of his lust. who will stroke himself to completion just to watch his cum stain the fabric he's worked so hard to afford—there's no explaining that away to a drycleaner.

pornstar!nanami who likes to imagine it's a pretty thing riding his thigh that wrecks his trousers. wonders how many of his viewers touch themselves to his videos, hoping the could take him for all he's worth as well.

pornstar!nanami who, after a particularly messy session one day, gets an email after uploading his video. it's not even been ten minutes, which was the length of his video, so he assumes whoever has emailed him came particularly fast to that one.

pornstar!nanami who was more than right in his assumption. because as his eyes rake over the email sent by an adoring fan, he sees about a million different typos that indicate nothing other than messy fingers and a fucked-dumb typist. in your barely legible email, you explain that Mr. Nanamis videos are tagged 'near-you', and you'd happily offer your services as the next sex toy he uses to fuck-and-film in exchange for an orgasm or three.

and oh is pornstar!nanami intrigued. because his life is a busy one, he's a businessman when the sun is up time is precious and human connection is a scheduling conflict—his videos aren't solo out of preference, poor nanami, the pornstar, is a virgin.

pornstar!nanami who, after a few weeks of back and forth and some genuine conversation, ends up with his camera flashing red as you sit naked on his lap. and oh are you happy with the sight of him, blonde and sculpted to perfection underneath those lovely suits of his. Your ass is on display to anyone watching, upper half out of shot as your teeth clash with his.

pornstar!nanami who can't help the sounds he makes when you grind against his clothed cock. your slick, your pooling lust, it smears over the fabric of his pants and leaves a gloss behind in turn. he's ravenous, holding onto your hips and grinding you down against him in all the right ways. who moans into your mouth, already a little pussydrunk and he's barely had a taste of you.

pornstar!nanami who hopes he isn't unseemly in the way he manhandles you to sit properly on his lap. he knows you're as desperate as he is, what with the way you slip your hands down to undo his belt and pull his cock free. your fingers wrapped around his length is enough of a narcotic to cum on the spot, though he steadies his reeling mind and holds out.

pornstar!nanami who offers to fuck you on his fingers first, to use his tongue to warm you up and get you ready for his, frankly overbearing, size. but you're insistent, eager, and lowering yourself onto his aching cock with a kiss to his lips and a sharp inhale shared between you.

pornstar!nanami who thanks whatever god may be out there for letting him film a glimpse of heaven.

pornstar!nanami who can barely keep himself together as you ride him like he's the toy at hand. he's sure he's never been this vocal for his viewers, moaning alone is a feat that is hot at best and hauntingly awkward at worst—this, though—he's never been so mindless. and you love it. all the videos you've watched where his voice is smooth and confident and he's the picture of put-together. having such a man, a gentleman like nanami, absolutely melting with each clench of your dripping pussy around his length? it's an aphrodisiac in itself.

and when you catch onto the fact that pornstar!nanami is about to cum—the bucking of his hips, those drawling moans, the hitch of his breath—you kiss him stupid, and then speak against his pretty swollen lips. 'breathe'

and oh does pornstar!nanami breathe. a desperate droning moan escapes his breath, right into your mouth as he empties himself inside of you like he's trying to give you his last name.

pornstar!nanami who can't help himself. flipping you over and onto your back, pressing you into the mattress as he continues to fuck into you. he's going to pull as many orgasms out of you as he can—it doesn't even register in his mind that, due to the new angle of your bodies, he's just let the world see his face, and the pretty pussy drunk blush that paints it pink.

[joyswonderland1108]

"It's Just Company Content" - A Masterclass in Missing the Entire Point of BTS (and Jikook for obvious reasons)

You ever see someone say "Jikook is just fanservice" or "that's just company content" and feel like your last three brain cells just collectively jumped ship? Same.

Let's break this down. Grab a snack. I'm about to get emotional, petty, and philosophical all in one go.

1. "Company Content" Is literally how we know them. Let that sink in.

So let me get this straight: You're dismissing Jikook moments because it was.. filmed? Uploaded? Edited and shared with us?

BABE. That's how we know all of BTS. You didn't personally sit across from Namjoon while he read Nietzsche. You didn't hold Yoongi's mic during his underground rap era. You didn't see Jungkook's first dance lesson. Everything we know, their personalities, quirks, chaos, brilliance, kindness, and vulnerabilities, came to us through content.

Whether it's Run BTS, Bon Voyage, random lives, AYS, Run Jin, Suchwita, IG posts, etc. We built our connection with them through what they shared, be it company-directed or personal.

2. Imagine being BTS, sharing your soul, only to be told "Fake!"

Jungkook: [writes songs about missing someone, cries mid-performance, posts literal dream confessions]

Jimin : [Shows up unannounced to support him, writes letters, bakes bread with his hands that are legally considered lethal weapons]

Some armchair analyst on Twitter: "That's fake. It was in a Bangtan Bomb"

Okay, sure Brenda.

Imagine the audacity of someone giving you pieces of themselves in the form of music, dance, laughter, and years of consistent bonds, only to be told it doesn't count because you saw it through official means.

What were you expecting? Hidden camera footage from their dreams? Should Jungkook have sent a carrier pigeon instead?

3. "We don't know them personally" - EXCEPT when it's convenient for you?

The irony of people screaming "You don't know them personally!" while also confidently stating "Jikook isn't real. They're just close friends, stop deluding yourselves."

So wait.. You do know them personally? Did they text you that?

Because unless Park Jimin called you crying at 2 AM saying "Hey, FYI, I'm not emotionally attached to Jungkook" maybe, just maybe, don't dismiss what has been shown to us for over a decade.

You can't pick and choose when they're real people with real emotions and when they're holograms programmed by BigHit.

4. "It's Only Jikook that's fake apparently?"

Curious, isn't it? Other duos can have their moments. Other friendships are "sweet", "loyal", "soulmate-level". But when it's Jikook, suddenly there's an NDA and a green screen involved?

They hold eye contact like a telenovela? "That's editing."

They giggle like they just kissed behind stage? "Just bros"

They disappear together and show up glowing? "Maybe they just exfoliated."

Why is Jikook the only bond people feel the need to aggressively sanitize?

If the only argument you have against them is "It's filmed content" you might want to double-check your bias list.. Or your subconscious.

5. Some of y'all sound like you want to get BTS content illegally and THEN you'll believe it?

The real kicker: the same people saying "company content is fake" are also the ones digging through sketchy private airport videos or whispering about sketchy "sightings" like they're in a true crime doc.

So you're saying the only way to validate Jikook's relationship is to see it off-screen.. by stalking them? What??

And i'm not even talking about random genuine sightings when Army happen to come across them, but full on people getting their private schedules, camping outside their places or the places they usually like to go to, etc..

Let's be clear:

Company content = BTS choosing to share with us.

Organic Army sightings = accidental, often sweet, and rooted in respect.

Stalker footage = creepy, unethical, and not content.

So if you're ignoring what they willingly give and romanticizing what they don't, maybe you're not a skeptic. Maybe you're just.. disrespectful.

Because again, why is it that the realness of Jikook, or any BTS bond, only matters to you when it's behind a grainy camera lens, not when it's in HD, with subtitles, and wrapped in genuine affection?

6. Jikook has shown up consistently. For Years. In Every Format.

Let's roll the tape.

Run BTS? Jikook are physically glued to each other.

Bon Voyage? They sleep next to each other like it's a law of physics.

Interviews? "Who are you closest to?" "Jimin". "Jungkook"

Lives? "I miss Jimin" "Jungkook is watching"

Dreams?? Jungkook : "I dreamed about Jimin again"

They're not hiding. They've never hidden. You just don't want to see it unless it fits your idea of "real".

But real doesn't have to be off-camera. Real can be live. Real can be edited. Real can be content.

I'm taking this opportunity to share @slaaverin 's amazing edit:

7. Company Content is a Window. Don't spit on the glass.

Yes, we don't know BTS personally. But the only way we know them at all is because they decided to show us parts of themselves.

So when you say "It's just content", what you're really saying is : "Everything they've shared doesn't matter."

And that's just.. tragic.

They could've kept it all to themselves. But they didn't.

They let us in, in their own way, through what they chose to share, and honestly? That's more real than anything you could steal from a hidden camera or baseless rumor mill.

In Conclusion: Just say you don't like Jikook and Go

Because if your only counter-argument is "it's company content" then:

You're not debunking anything.

You're not smarter than the rest of us.

You're just uncomfortable with the possibility that Jikook is actually unapologetically real.

And you know what?

That's okay. Just admit it and move. Don't drag the entire concept of content, trust, or the emotional contract between BTS and ARMY down with you.

So yeah, dismissing Jikook as "just fanservice" is lazy, weak, and honestly disrespectful to BTS, the fans, and the literal art of communication.

And if content is all we have, then content is what we honor. That's the deal. That's the bond. That's BTS.

[ultrabean]

REDEEMER'S PATH MASTERPOST

Well, since the last masterpost got buried, I figured I might as well make a new one, with some easier navigation.

A short synopsis of this AU would be: This AU takes place after chapter 2 of deltarune, except the epilogue never happened. This story was basically the result of the question: "What if the player was a calm and reasonable person?"

DISCLAIMER

>>>START<<<

[Chapter 1]

Homeless arc / story beginning

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14

(Mini arc)

Rising suspicions

15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20

[Chapter 2]

To the darkworld / First meeting

21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25 / 26 /27 / 28 / 29 / 30 / 31 / 32 / 33 / 34 / 35 / 36 / 37 / 38 / 39 / 40 / 41 / 42 / 43

The masterpost will update as I complete more pages, but please do keep in mind one thing:

Do not expect this comic to have a consistent update / upload schedule. To put things simply: shit happens in life, and in order to make this AU the way I want, it's likely going to take a loooot of time. And in life, plans can change, I might be busy with stuff , especially considering I'm starting college already.

That being said, I thank you for your patience and the support on this comic. <3

✍︎

[erodasfishtacos]

My Heart's in Overdrive (& You're Behind the Steering Wheel)

prompt: harry can't catch a break, can't give an explanation, and can only watch how things play out

word count: 3.5k

warnings: angsts, descriptions of anxiety, anxiety attacks, depression

author's note:

I upload a piece of writing every 1-2 days.

There are multiple other parts of this up and will be updated this month

I recently started a second tier called The OG Tier where 2

one shots (1-4kish) are posted a week.

There are currently 350 + pieces available to read

Tier I - $3 USD where you get access to main stories, everything except the mini one shots.

Tier II - $5 USD where you get access to every piece of writing!

you can check it out here

first FIFTEEN to click here can get a free $5 membership for a month!

-

PART I & PART II

Harry was spiraling.

His mind raced as he tried to formulate an escape plan from the PR date with Tessa. 

He had no recollection of signing the contract, yet there it was, his signature staring back at him like an ironclad promise when Sonny forwarded it to him after getting off the phone call. 

He must have agreed to this at some point, perhaps in a moment of weakness or sheer oversight but he really tried to avoid these types of things.


Even when YN wasn't back in the picture, Harry never enjoyed going on scheduled dates with more pressure than when there aren’t paparazzi and PR teams breathing down his neck.

Regardless, it was binding, and now he had to figure out how to explain it to YN.

God, YN. How was he supposed to tell her? 

Every time they seemed to make progress, something always pulled them back, and this time, it was his fault yet again.

It was like a cruel cycle, one where YN put in all the effort, consistently showing up, prioritizing their relationship, while he let his career obligations dictate their course. 

He wanted to be the kind of partner she deserved, someone who balanced it all effortlessly, but he just kept failing.

Now, he felt caged, not by steel bars or shackles, but by ink on paper—contracts, commitments, and obligations he had no way of breaking without severe consequences. 

The industry was ruthless, and if he backed out, he would be dealing with more than just YN’s disappointment. 

Legal battles, financial repercussions, and a tarnished reputation loomed over him like a dark cloud. 

He couldn't afford to be reckless, not when so many people depended on him.

But YN deserved more than this. 

More than him constantly expecting her to understand, to be flexible, to accept being second priority. 

He had leaned on that grace too many times before, and each time, it chipped away at their foundation.

When he tried to call her, it went straight to voicemail. 

A sinking feeling settled in his gut as he checked their text messages and saw that she had put her phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ for the night.

Fuck.

He couldn’t tell her over text.

How would he even phrase it?

Hey, thanks for the phone sex. By the way, I have a PR date tomorrow morning. Forgot to mention it, but don’t worry—it’s just with the face of Levi’s and totally meaningless.

Yeah, that would go over well.

He wasn’t stupid.

He remembered the comments she had made about his dating history, about his pattern of dating models. 

He could already picture the look on her face when she found out. 

It wasn’t just about the date—it was about what it represented, about the ways it reaffirmed her fears, her insecurities, the ways he had hurt her before. 

This wasn’t just another misstep. 

It was another confirmation that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as important to him as she should be. 

And that wasn’t true. 

It wasn’t. 

Because if they had been talking at the point, Harry would have never signed something like that.

Ever ever ever.

But how could he convince her of that when everything pointed to the opposite?

A tightness gripped his chest, his breathing becoming shallow as his body flooded with panic. 

The weight of it clawed at him, rising up his throat, making his entire body feel like it was on fire. 

He recognized the signs of an anxiety attack before it fully took hold. 

Without thinking, he moved off the bed and into the bathroom, turning the shower on. 

The water was lukewarm, leaning towards cold as he stepped under it, grunting at the ice pelting against the heat of his tender skin.

He needed to ground himself, to regain control, but it wasn’t working.

YN. 

He needed YN.

She was the only one who ever knew how to de-escalate him. 

The only one who could tell when he was getting overwhelmed before he even noticed it himself. 

She had always been that person for him, the calm in the storm, the one who never wavered.

++

YN had always been the calm one, the emotionally regulated anchor in a world that often felt crazy and unpredictable. 

No matter how chaotic the situation or how intense the emotions around her, YN remained a steady presence, someone who could be relied upon to bring balance when everything else seemed to be falling apart.. 

Where others might react impulsively or allow their emotions to take control, YN always found a way to maintain her composure. 

She didn’t rush into decisions or speak without thought; instead, she took the time to process her feelings, allowing herself to fully understand them before responding.

While her friends were often swept up in the storm of their own inner worlds—tossed between the highs of fleeting joy and the lows of uncertainty—YN remained anchored. 

People often marveled at her ability to handle even the most difficult situations with such ease.

Whether it was dealing with a personal conflict, facing an academic challenge, or simply navigating the everyday ups and downs of teenage life, YN always seemed to handle everything with poise. 

Her ability to stay calm in the face of stress wasn’t just a skill; it was a natural part of who she was, a defining characteristic that made her not only emotionally mature for her age but also incredibly wise beyond her years.

Sometimes, YN would get called ‘possessive’ or ‘jealous’ by other girls, and while the words stung, they never quite understood the reality of the situation.

 The assumptions made about her stemmed from one simple fact—no one else ever really got a chance alone with Harry.

 It wasn’t for lack of trying on their part; they all wanted their opportunity to charm him, to see if they could catch his attention, to experience what it would be like to have his undivided focus on them for even a few minutes. 

But it never seemed to happen.

YN was always there, ‘hogging’ him, as they put it, as if he were a prized possession rather than a person with his own agency.

But that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

What they failed to see, what they never took the time to understand, was the unspoken language that existed between YN and Harry. 

They didn’t notice the small, intimate moments that passed between them, the subtle ways they reassured one another, the effortless way they navigated social situations as a unit. \

They didn’t see how, upon arriving at the bonfire at their friend’s house, Harry had gently tugged YN’s hand before she could wander too far, his fingers latching onto hers with a kind of desperation that most people wouldn’t have caught. 

His voice, laced with the kind of nervous energy that only she could recognize, had been quiet but firm when he murmured, “Nut, don’t go too far, please.”

And she understood. 

She always did.

 She didn’t roll her eyes or dismiss his worry. 

She simply nodded, offering him a warm smile that told him she wasn’t going anywhere. 

“I won’t,” YN promised.

Years later, when Harry looked back on this time in his life, he would be struck by how profound their communication had been, how mature their connection was despite their age. 

They had operated on a level far beyond their years, always seeming ot balancing each other out in ways that most adults still struggled to achieve.

“What’s your number?” She had asked him then, her voice soft yet steady, knowing exactly what he needed without him having to say it outright.

“A five,” Harry had replied quietly, almost ashamed to admit it. 

There had been a time when he resented the question, when it made him feel weak, as though acknowledging his anxiety somehow diminished his strength as a man. 

He had been conditioned to believe that vulnerability equated to weakness, that expressing discomfort was something to be embarrassed about. 

But YN had helped him see the truth—that it was okay to feel this way, that it didn’t make him any less of a man.

If anything, it made him stronger.

YN would always remind him in a teasing but truthful tone, “Vulnerability is sexy.”

Despite his social anxiety, Harry never let it stand in the way of being there for YN. 

If someone was giving her a hard time, he wouldn’t hesitate to step in. 

If she needed defending, he was her first line of protection. 

His anxiety never existed in those moments because his love for her was bigger than the fear that usually controlled him. 

He put her first—always even when it meant pushing his own emotions aside.

And yet, he hadn’t realized just how much she had helped him, just how much he had relied on her, until she was gone.

He got too comfortable.

When they broke up, everything unraveled. 

Suddenly, he was alone in social situations, navigating unfamiliar territory without the safety net she had unknowingly provided. 

There was no buffer anymore, no one to subtly swoop in with an excuse when things got too overwhelming, no one to read the slight changes in his demeanor and pull him aside before the panic took hold.

Instead, he was left to face it all on his own, and the weight of it was crushing.

It wasn’t just the heartbreak of losing YN that drained him; it was the combination of grief and his anxiety spiraling unchecked.

It became a vicious cycle—his anxiety feeding into his depression, his depression making his anxiety worse. 

Every social event, every team function, every new situation felt unbearable without her presence beside him. 

He hadn’t even begun to recover when he attempted therapy, but that, too, had left him feeling even more lost.

The therapist’s skepticism had been like a slap to the face.

“If you are as anxious as you say, why would you ever choose to be a professional football player?”

The question had floored him.

He hadn’t known how to answer it. 

It wasn’t that he had chosen this career because it was easy for him—it was that football was the one place where his anxiety didn’t control him. 

On the field, he wasn’t the nervous guy struggling to make small talk at a team dinner. 

He was fast, he was focused, he was powerful. 

Football had been his escape, the only place where his mind quieted long enough for him to feel normal. 

But the therapist hadn’t understood that. 

Instead of helping him work through his struggles, they had made him doubt himself even more.

After that session, he never went back.

His anxiety continued to gnaw at him, unchecked, until it became suffocating. 

The only thing that seemed to help, even just a little, was the cold water. 

Showers, swimming pools, ice baths—it didn’t matter, as long as he could feel the chill against his skin. 

The shock of it helped calm his body down, helped pull him back from the brink when he felt like he was drowning in his own thoughts.

Still, even as the water rushed over him, he couldn’t escape the feeling of being completely and utterly exhausted. 

His breathing was just as heavy as if he had just sprinted the length of a football field, chest heaving, throat dry and burning from the lack of oxygen making its way into his lungs. 

No matter how much he tried to steady himself, to ground himself, it never felt like enough.

And maybe, deep down, he knew why.

Because without YN there to remind him to breathe, to hold his hand when the world felt like too much, he was still learning how to do it on his own.

++

Sleep didn’t come easy that night. 

Harry tossed and turned, his mind restless, his body unable to settle. 

Every few minutes, he reached for his phone, checking and rechecking to see if she had texted back. 

The silence from her end was deafening, and with every passing hour, his anxiety only deepened.

The breakfast date was scheduled for eight-thirty in the morning at a local restaurant that was well-known for being a hotspot for celebrities. 

It was the kind of place where paparazzi loitered, hoping to catch a scandalous photo or an unexpected encounter between two famous people.

 Despite the many times Harry had heard of it, he had never been there himself.

He knew that YN loved a lay-in on the weekends, often staying in bed until nine or even ten if she had the chance.

 But he was praying desperatelythat maybe, just maybe, she had woken up early today. 

That maybe she’d see his message, hear his call, and give him the chance to explain before the media twisted everything into something it wasn’t.

And then, as if the universe had conspired against him, a series of unfortunate events began to unfold. 

Harry considered himself a person with relatively good luck, but today—on the one day he needed it the most—luck was nowhere to be found. 

He needed a favor from fate more than he needed to throw a game-winning touchdown during the playoffs, but fate had other plans.

He had anticipated the presence of paparazzi. 

That was the whole point of this arrangement, after all. 

But what he hadn’t expected was just how many would be waiting for him. 

The scene outside the restaurant was overwhelming—swarming with photographers who acted like vultures circling fresh roadkill.

They were shoving at each other, pressing themselves against his car before he even had the chance to park properly. 

And, of course, because they wanted the best possible photographs, he had been instructed to park at the very front of the restaurant—completely exposed. 

Normally, in situations like this, celebrities were offered the option of a back entrance, a discreet way in.

But not today.

Harry’s anxiety, which had been simmering since the night before, was now reaching a boiling point. 

The flashing cameras, the deafening shouts, the lack of personal space—it all pushed him closer and closer to the edge. 

The paparazzi operated with the delusion that they were untouchable, fearless even in the face of a towering quarterback with broad shoulders and the muscle mass to back up his size. 

They had the upper hand, and they knew it.

Then, the bystanders started to notice the commotion. 

Pedestrians, people who had merely been passing by, suddenly realized someone important was in their midst. 

Like moths to a flame, they gravitated toward the growing mob, adding to the chaos.

In the frenzy of trying to get into the restaurant without causing a scene—or worse, someone getting hurt, Harry never heard his phone ring. 

The noise was too much, his mind too wired, his body too overwhelmed to even register the vibration in his pocket.

By the time he finally made it inside, he was on the verge of hyperventilating. 

But he hid it well. 

No one—not the restaurant staff, not the other patrons would be able to tell just how much he was struggling. 

Only YN ever saw through the cracks in his composure.

The restaurant’s owner greeted him, shaking his hand and immediately launching into a conversation about football. 

It was always football.

Harry nodded along, forcing himself to appear engaged even as he mentally tried to steady himself. 

He was then guided to a very public table on the outside patio, where cameras could easily document every second of the staged date.

Tessa hadn’t arrived yet. 

That, at least, was a small mercy. 

He had a few minutes to collect himself before he had to endure the part of the morning he was dreading the most.

Harry pulled out his phone, fully expecting to see nothing from YN.

But to his surprise, there was a missed call.

8:23 AM.

His heart lurched as he immediately pressed her contact, anxious for her to answer. 

He needed to explain himself. 

Needed her to hear the truth. 

But the call rang once before going straight to voicemail.

His stomach dropped.

She had sent him to voicemail.

How could she already know?

Then, a text appeared on his screen:

YN: Sorry! I’m about to head into a deep tissue massage appointment to work on these aches from the accident. My shoulder’s still twinging a bit!! I’ll call you when I get out! (:

Relief flooded through him, though it was short-lived. 

He wanted to reply immediately, to ask for just a minute of her time, but before he could type out a message, his ‘date’ was arriving at the table.

++

The date was going terribly.

Harry couldn’t focus on anything Tessa was saying. 

His mind was elsewhere, his eyes constantly flicking to his phone.

He was hyper-aware of the paparazzi, more so than usual, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t force himself to feign interest in the conversation.

It didn’t take long for Tessa to notice.

With a scowl on her face, she clinked her fork against the plate in frustration.

“You could at least try to be interested in what I’m saying. We’re on a date, and you’re not treating it like one.”

Harry blinked, setting his phone down. 

His usual cool, composed demeanor was nowhere to be found when he replied sharply, “I’m not treating it like a real date because it isn’t. Public Relations managers don’t set up dates—they set up business opportunities that make them money.”

Tessa’s expression tightened, though she was careful to maintain an air of professionalism. 

Cameras were everywhere, after all.

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath, low enough that only he could hear.

Harry scoffed, running his tongue over his teeth, “If you typically start relationships with a signed contract, I guarantee you that’s not a great start.”

His stomach churned. 

He could barely take more than a few bites of his meal without feeling nauseous.

The rest of the breakfast was as awkward as expected. 

And yet, they still had to end it with a hug and a kiss on the cheek—nothing inherently intimate, but in the context of this situation, it would be spun into something far bigger than it was.

The moment he was in his car, he peeled out of the parking lot, desperate to get away from the flashing cameras.

But the entire drive home, he was texting.

H: Please, please call me when you’re out of your massage.

H: Nut, I will explain everything to you. I promise.

H: It wasn’t anything. I promise I have an explanation.

H: Call me, please.

For the first few hours, he tried to remain optimistic.

But Harry knew deep tissue massages didn’t last four hours.

By that point, he knew. 

She had seen the photos.

He tried calling.

It rang twice, offering a flicker of hope—but then it stopped. 

She hadn’t blocked him, and while he hadn’t truly believed she would, the lack of an answer still cut deep.

Then he went online.

The breakfast date was trending in the top ten by the afternoon.

The photo of him kissing Tessa’s cheek was the headline image.

So she had seen it.

Harry knew blowing up her phone wouldn’t help. 

He needed to respect her boundaries.

She clearly didn’t want to talk to him.

But he just wanted a chance to explain.

If they weren’t in different cities, he’d be at her door. 

And if he didn’t have a meeting later that he cannot bail on, he’d be on a plane to her by now.

Harry gets this heart-wrenching feeling, and he’s really never felt it but once before.

That had been when YN had ended things with him.

[pupslimes]

cock warming charlie while hes editing and he tells you to get up because he needs to use the bathroom but you dont let him so he just. yknow. muehehahehaheuhahahehha

-totally not red definitely absolutely 100 percent not red yeah not me i mean red not red at all its not red im not red uhhmm anyways pisses everywhere

everyone say yippee for piss porn! i can't call this baby's first piss porn but it is baby's first charlie piss porn. so. wrote this in like an hour because the prompt went crazyyyyy thank you definitely not red. cw for like. the lightest dubcon. otherwise u know what ur getting urself into

the rules of liquid and containers don't apply when the container is horny

You were roused from your half asleep state as Charlie groaned, his head knocking against the desk several times. "Babe. Holy fucking shit. I can't do this right now. I literally can't."

"Can you take a break?" You stretched your arms over your head, groaning quietly.

He sighed, slipping his head from his desk into his hands, groaning. "Noooooo. I have to stick to my stupid fucking upload schedule,"

"You made the upload schedule yourself right? Can't you just change the schedule?"

"This is my two million subscriber special, I have to put it out on time,"

"Can I help you? Is there anything I can do for you?" Charlie's eyes glinted slightly as they met yours.

"There is… uh… something you could do for me?" He gestured to his lap, cheeks flushing red. Charlie loved when you sat on his lap.

You smiled at him, sliding off the bed across the room and padding over to him, before slipping a leg over the chair, straddling his lap. You curled into his chest, burying your face in his neck. Your arms twined around his neck, and you cuddled into him. "Love you so much, baby,"

"Love you too, babe," he hummed into your ear. Soon enough, the clicking and occasional typing lulled you back into a drowsy, floaty space. Eventually, you felt his hips stirring beneath you, once, twice, three times.

"Char?" Your voice was thick with sleep.

"Sorry baby… ah…fuck," His hips snapped up against you, and you felt his hard cock graze against your clit.

"Ah!" You ground back down against him. When you were all hazy and tired like this, it was so much easier for him to turn you on, and he took advantage of it often. Especially on nights like these.

"Please? " He begged you, voice high and reedy. You untangled your fingers from around his neck, sliding your hands down his chest. He pressed a kiss into your forehead as your hands made his way to his waistband. Slipping down his boxers was easy, since he never wore anything else around the apartment when it was just the two of you.

He shifted his hips to help you pull them down, which only halfway helped. Making room for you to slip down his boxers was great, sure, but the fact that he basically rolled his hips into you as you were consistently getting more soaked? Not optimal. You fell into his chest after, a choked moan echoing in the small room. He let out a breathy laugh. "Sorry, darling,"

You groaned lightly, tapping the side of your fist against his collarbone like you were beating on him, before settling back into the warmth of your boy. "Wanna go back to sleep, honey?" His voice was silky smooth, wrapping into your already tired consciousness. You nodded slowly. Moving felt sticky now. He laughed again, just a tiny exhale against you. "Okay hun, lift your hips real quick," You made a confused noise, but complied easily. His hands immediately shot to your ass, helping lift you slightly. If he copped a feel while he did it, fingers massaging into your ass while gently spreading it open, it was something you could ignore.

What you couldn't ignore, though, was when the head of his cock pressed up against your hole. "Nnngh?" You were too tired to even form words at this point.

"Shhh, love," he began to press into you. "It's all going to be okay. Just let me… uhhh, ah!!… get inside and you can go back to sleep, yeah?" At your next sleepy nod, he pushed in further, slipping in with ease. "Fuck, you're wet. Sure you don't want me to just fuck you?" You giggled, shifting to get comfy, and he yelped before sighing down at you. A gentle slap landed on your ass as he settled back in. "Tease,"

It wasn't too often you cockwarmed Charlie. It had basically become a last resort for him when video editing was going awfully, and he used the privilege of it sparingly. It was important to him you knew he wasn't just using you as a sex toy, not that you really would have minded. But Charlie loved and cared about you enough that you let him get flushed and nervous about it every time he asked, reassured him through it that you loved him. Which was why today was so unique. As much as you wanted to be there for him, your exhausted mind just couldn't stay up this time. The warmth of his skin through his shirt felt like it seeped into your bones, and your fingers slowly stopped tracing patterns on his back and shoulders, and you slipped into the rest of your nap from earlier.

You awoke to uncomfortable shifting and the bounce of a leg, not enough to move the cock inside you, but enough to shake you. It wouldn't have mattered if he was moving anyways. Charlie had gone soft in the time it took him to edit the video. Your eyes fluttered open as you took in all the sensations flooding you as you made your way out from dreamland. "Mmmmmm," was all you could manage.

His eyes flicked down. "Oh! Hi baby," He seemed distracted and uncomfortable, and you immediately tried to rectify it with a kiss to his jawline. He relaxed a tiny fraction, but it didn't seem to be enough.

"You finish editing, Char?"

"Almost baby. But uh… I have to go,"

"Go where?" The confusion overtook you, bringing with it a light panic at the thought of moving from where you were. You were far too comfortable to move, and still so, so sleepy.

"Oh, no baby it's okay!" His hands rushed to your sides, petting gently. "I just mean to the bathroom,"

Oh. Okay. Well, that was better than whatever you were imagining. But still, you just felt so nice…

"No," You wrapped your arms back around his neck.

"Sweetheart, what do you mean no?" His voice held a stressed lilt.

"Too comfy," You wiggled your hips, settling in again.

Charlie groaned at the pressure you were now putting on his bladder. "Baby. I really gotta go,"

"Ten more minutes?" you pleaded.

"Baby, I'm not gonna make it ten minutes. I'm not gonna make it ten… ah! fuck!!…"

And that's when you felt it, a spurt of boiling hot liquid splashing inside of you. Oh shit.

"Sorry! Fuck I'm so sorry I'm so so sorry," Charlie groaned out. You felt every muscle in his body tense, and he leaned over you. It didn't stop though. In fact, it only seemed to make it worse. Piss flowed into you, feeling like Charlie was cumming, filling you up, but it didn't stop. You felt yourself filling up further and further, stomach starting to gently distend with the sheer amount. Fuck… how long had be been holding it? You found yourself not particularly…disliking the experience.

Soon, of course, you reached full. But that didn't mean that Charlie was done. Absolutely not. His stuttered apologies turned into gasps and groans, his hands digging into where they lay at your sides. It seemed like he was still trying to push out apologies, to push you off almost, although that wouldn't have helped anyone here. You pushed back into him. And that's when you felt something else.

The piss dripped out of you, running first directly onto Charlie's lap where you were sitting, soaking into his boxers. You were sitting in what was basically a puddle of Charlie's piss. The thin, flimsy fabric though, could only keep up for so long. The puddle grew underneath you, liquid pushing up against you. Piss ran over your clit, over your ass, over every sensitive spot between, and you couldn't help but moan at the sensation. You couldn't contain it any longer. It spilled out between the two of you, and you could hear it fucking dripping onto Charlie's desk mat below you. The sound made you clench, which only, obviously, squeezed out more piss.

Lost in the feelings, and Charlie's whimpered half apologies fading into the background, you lifted your hips, the result exactly what you were looking for. The piss inside you flowed out faster, and the drops on the mat turned into splashes. You felt the blood drain out of your head with excitement, cunt pounding with your pulse, clenching around Charlie's still soft cock. Settling back down, you tried to pull yourself together, chest heaving. It was hard, trying to calm yourself while looking down at the man under you. He was bright red and panting, piss having crept its way from your pussy to his shirt, staining the hem of it dark.

"Baby?" he called. Your hands played with the wet hem, unable to meet his eyes. "Baby, I'm so fucking sorry," His cock twitched in you. Fucking caught. You met his eyes.

"I don't think you are,"

Charlie somehow blushed redder, stammering out disjointed sentences while you felt him getting harder inside you. You took a huge chance and covered his mouth, dragging the edge of his shirt into your own. You closed your lips over the fabric and sucked, the unmistakable flavor of Charlie flooding your mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head, and his cock basically sprang to life inside you. Best chance you ever took.

Ripping the shirt out and twisting it in your hand to pull him in, you took your hand off his mouth. Your gazes met again as he choked off a moan. "Charlie,"

"Yeah?"

"If you don't fuck me right now, I'll kill you,"

[when-worlds-end]

Peep my friend and I freaking out over "Or Am I On The Outside?" snippets on Discord.

My beta reader count is now at 1.5.

[akanemnon]

I just wanna say your doing awesome

I absolutely love reading your comic and it's very much an inspiration to me to continue growing as an artist and a storyteller

I very much admire your dedication and I usually read through the entirety of the comic whenever you take a break from it so I can appreciate the amazing story you've been weaving

I'm very sorry some people have been so rude, you don't deserve that when you've been sharing your story with us so kindly and consistently

Hope you have a great day today ^^

Thanks, guys! It really means a lot that you enjoy this comic so much! Must mean that I'm doing at least something right haha

I've been trying my best to have a steady upload schedule, and it's been going surprisingly well. I haven't missed a single upload outside of any announced breaks I took.

Sometimes, I keep forgetting how much work this ACTUALLY is. When I look at Twin Roomies and how Alpha tries to emulate the look of the main comic, I'm hit with the realization that this is HARD! It's become such a routine at this point that I don't think too deeply about the amount of work I'm actually putting out.

Is this what Stockholm syndrome is like? /j

[enchantedspherosis]

I need motivation to write, so I LEAVE THIS POST FOR A WEEK AND A HALF AND EVERYTHING BUT THE LAST ONE IS DONE WHAT THE HELL 10 notes: I finish writing chapter 11 I've got a few hours to burn until the triple-i initiative (indie game announcements) so might as well do this today 25 notes: I try to write for at least an hour a day for the rest of April (2024) well it's may so I'll try to do this for may instead 50 notes: I outline arc 2 of the story so I know what to expect (c20-40)

100 notes: I try to get a consistent chapter upload schedule (Friday each week) already started this for tuesday

500 notes: When I'm done with the main story I make a side story going into a character of the community's choosing Once I finish the main story I'll make a poll for this

2500 notes (oh god please no (just for shits and giggles)): I come out of the closet to my family

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

ok hold on let's play in my "sausage is joining the life series" conspiracy space for a moment

what we know:

season 5 is coming VERY SHORTLY

cleo and jimmy are both adjusting their stream schedules for very vague reasons today

gem and sausage both changed into their "default" skins within like 20 minutes of each other a few hours ago (sausage's new hardcore skin, gem's overalls skin)

sausage was the first person to get out of new life, and lost his last three origins shockingly quickly

martyn has expressed wanting sausage to be in the life series, sausage has expressed wanting to play more with martyn and many other life series members

what we THINK we know:

gem is going to be in season 5

they are testing or POTENTIALLY filming season 5 today

LOOK. LOOK. I'M RED-STRINGING THIS I KNOW but stick with me. sausage seemed to speedrun his last few origins which would be kinda weird if he didn't have anything else lined up to replace new life, considering he tends to upload weekly and he has been consistently uploading new life for months now. of course he could be shifting to pirates but with how far behind his two pirates videos are from his stream i'm nooot confident in that.

also, sausage is very aware of the lore martyn has going on with the life series and we all know he LOVES THAT SHIT, plus he kinda set up a reason for his character from new life to end up in the life series- he's just learned how to world hop. also also the hardcore skin he's currently wearing is the only one that doesn't have that arm band that he has pretty consistently established as "the thing that helps him world jump" and i mean. why would he be able to do that here. idk i KNOW i'm red stringing but YOU SEE WHERE I'M COMING FROM, RIGHT.

[butch-with-a-deep-voice]

Long-Distance date/bonding ideas I've learned while making it work with my femme

Streamed Movie Night: Discord has a function that let's you stream video and gaming alike! I'd recommend Nitro because otherwise stream quality is gonna SUCK (and you need to do some weird fiddling to get services like Netflix to work) but you can enjoy movie night with your boo

Tabletop Simulator: If you both have about $20, and a computer with even a low budget graphics processor, this program is invaluable. The base games are neat but the real trove is in the Steam Workshop. Mod makers upload hundreds of boardgames from Catan to Azul to outright heavy ones like D&D and Warhammer. My femme and I now have a weekly boardgame night (she actively challenges me at strategy games and it makes me so happy to have a partner that does 🥰)

Coffee shop dates: Go to a place where the shop has wifi (or you have a really good data plan with your phone), pop your headphones in, and just video call. I promise you, there will be more people there who find it sweet than those who find it weird.

Spotify Jam Sessions: I don't know about other music apps, but we both have spotify and it now has a function that let's you invite others to a shared listening session. Music is really important to both my femme and myself, and the ability for us to literally listen at the same time and talk about the music is truly quite lovely.

Parallel crafting time: Admittedly, I'm Neurodivergent as hell, and parallel play baseline is big for me. But pop on a videocall and make some crafts together. Bonus points if you get similar materials and share what you've made together

Call every night: no seriously, even if you both are busy the entire day and can't talk, call for at least a half hour or so to round your day off. That lack of certain forms of intimacy means you need to be really on top of other forms. On top of affirming love for one another. If you're trying to make long distance work long term, calling to just. Be with eachother is so important.

Schedule Time: As an extension of the above, just because you're calling every day, doesn't mean ensuring you have dedicated time for eachother isn't important. I'm talking like. An afternoon/evening once a week type thing. Be together for a long period of time while you can't be physically together.

Technology has honestly made what I always thought impossible for myself feel possible. The advent of videocalling my femme every day helps so much of the potential pitfalls that could have happened, and the best part is its more or less free (I pay for discord nitro but I digress). Don't get me wrong I'm having my hard days still. The inability to hold her when I want to take care of her is particularly bad. I show care and love through things like physical touch and food so much. But getting creative, and being consistent have really made this feel possible and sustainable until we get to the "next stages" bridge.

If you have ideas you found fun/helpful please toss em in the replies, tags, etc. Always open to more date ideas with my girl 💕