#latest camera tricks

[leota-nexus]

^ the process

v the shot

[strategichannah]

What’s New in iOS 18: Key Features You Should Know About

iOS 18 is here! Discover the newest features, from enhanced Siri intelligence to major camera upgrades. Learn how these updates will improve your iPhone experience. Check out the blog for more insights! 📱✨ #iOS18 #AppleUpdate

What’s New in iOS 18: Key Features You Should Know About Written By: that Hannah Jones Time to Read: 6 minutes Apple’s iOS 18 is making waves with exciting new features and updates that enhance both functionality and personalization. With every new iOS release, Apple continues to push the boundaries of what’s possible with your iPhone. iOS 18 is no exception, packed with groundbreaking…

[mrsmandalorian]

short n' sweet tour

--pedro pascal x singer!f!reader

summary: on the debut night of your arena tour, you pull out all the cheeky tricks to grab Pedro's attention while the crowd goes wild.-this fic features a tiny bit of 'Bed Chem" and the whole song of 'Juno" by Sabrina Carpenter !!

lyrical genius masterlist / main masterlist / wc:4.9K

warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, smut!!!, and fluff!, p in v, hard and quick FUCK, sexual TEASING, pet names, pillow humping, dry humping, wandering hands, makeout.

a/n: the next part is finally here! thank you for all the love on this series. hope you guys enjoy this part! pls leave some feedback and let me know what you guys might be interested in seeing in the future! much love, maddie <3

The electricity from the crowd vibrates backstage as you nervously wait for your cue to run onstage. All the hard work throughout your career has led to this moment—the first concert of your North American leg of the arena tour. It started in  Staples Center in Los Angeles and concludes in Sweden next year. 

The pre-show recording starts as your team quickly helps you with your earpiece and offers words of encouragement. Take a few deep breaths to calm your nerves as you hear the team start a countdown to your entrance over the earpiece. 

“Three, two, one-go, go!” the stage manager says from behind you.

As the crowd roars, you dash onto the elaborate stage to begin the show with one of your many comedy bits, acting as if you are half-ready for the show to start, still in your sequined bath towel. You finally end up center stage to find your microphone and strip from your fake towel to a custom sparkling bodysuit with sheer sparkling tights, which causes an uproar from your fans. 

Looking into the sea of people and phones, you give your best smile and take the moment as best as possible. The tune of your first song starts as your dancers slowly come out to join you on stage. It was showtime. 

The crowd was whole of thousands of fans and familiar faces from family, friends, and celebrities. The cheers and joy in the room made all the struggles and hard work behind the music worthwhile. The impact your music has on people truly makes it all significant. You released your album, and it was a fantastic experience; it topped the charts for weeks and went viral on social media. It has undoubtedly been the best year of your life. Your career has already taken off, but the overwhelming success you've experienced in the last six months has been remarkable in more ways than one.

Your nerves disappear as you sing through the setlist and entertain your fans with your cheeky comedy bits and lovable personality. Your setlist consists of songs from your new album, older hits and gems, and karaoke from your favorite artists. Much like your most recent singles, your latest album is very sex-positive and cheeky, which sets your performance to the same tone. You were expecting a good reaction from the crowd, especially someone. 

After a few songs and the addition of a sheer robe, it was finally time for one of your more sexual songs off your album, Bed Chem, which had a very sensual tone of dance to it. The lights dim as you get into position on a retro circular bed part of your elaborate makeshift apartment stage. You position yourself seductively in the middle as you stare up at the camera above you, which will project onto the large screens for the audience. 

The song starts as you twirl your hair with a massive smirk. As you go through the first few lyrics on the set bed all by yourself, you can't help but imagine your bed chemistry with your lover, Pedro, which causes you to blush heavily. 

Your imagination halts as your dancers join you on the bed to continue the song and choreography. The canopy opens to the audience, but you have been so caught up in your performance that you haven't taken a second to look at those chocolate eyes in the audience. 

As you continue the song sensually and playfully, you are met at the edge of the bed with your dancers. Staring into the crowd to find his eyes, you meet them with a large smirk, holding them as you sing the following few lines. 

“And I bet we'd both arrive at the same time (bed chem)

And I bet the thermostat's set at six-nine (bed chem)

And I bet it's even better than in my head (my, ooh).”

Your gazes hold until you give him a wink, which earns you a smirk and wink back from him. The tension between you and him burned hotter than the stage lights, igniting every inch of you—even in a room packed with thousands. You were so smitten with him as you continued your choreography with your female dancers. 

During the song's outro, the ladies leave you to dance with the guys as you kneel on the bed. One of the male dancers joins you, holding a camcorder that projects onto the screens, and he joins you on the bed. Playfully actingout a scene with him until the canopy curtain closes and your reflections show you both undress and embrace onto the bed as the lights dim to darkness. 

After the song ends, the crowd erupts, and you run backstage for your first outfit. As you change, one of your few mini videos and dancers entertain the audience. Touching up your makeup and dabbing the sweat from your brow, you quickly grab your phone to send Pedro a selfie of you winking and making a kissy face: “All for you, baby.” 

The concert flows on—another outfit change, playful banter, and electrifying moments with the crowd—all in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the thoughts of your irresistibly fine man. After an intensely emotional song, your setlist picks back up with cheerful, fun music that has gone viral for your whole tour. You walk yourself down in your long, custom, sexy dress down the catwalk of the stage as you talk with the crowd. You compliment and express your gratitude to your fans as you prepare for the next song. Before the song, your team and you have been doing a comedy bit before to give the spotlight to a fan. 

You complimented the crowd on their fabulous outfits, which you knew took them a while to pick out or make. The best part of the bit happened once your dancers joined you just off the main stage onto the catwalk. 

“Oh my, everyone, look! Who is this hottie in the front row right here?” You let out a shocked expression as you fan your face dramatically. The camera for the large screens directs the camera to the person you are referring to, who happens to be Lux Pascal. The crowd goes wild as Lux starts to blush. “ You are breathtaking! Whoever made you, God bless them. God bless their genetics.” You joke with her as you twist your hair in a fake, flirtatious way. “Um, what's your name, gorgeous?” 

The camera pans back to Lux, where she plays her part and screams, “Lux!” to you. You both laugh together. “Such a beautiful name! Our names would be perfect for us to be in a relationship together. Oh my god! My clothes just fell off thinking about us. I will have to arrest you for being too hot!” You say as your long skirt falls to reveal your shorter skirt underneath. A brief glimpse of Pedro standing beside his sisters and your friends sends the arena into a deafening uproar, the sheer volume making you giggle into the microphone.

Your dancer hands you a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs, which you give to the security guard with a wink and blow a kiss to Lux before you start to get into position for the next song, which the intro has begun. 

The dancer brought a chair for you to sit in between them to start the song. They all still wave and send Lux flirtatious signals as part of the bit. The music begins, which causes you to smirk because of the context. 

“Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing

Oh yeah, you just get it (get it)

Whole package, babe, I like the way You don'tt

God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh”

You promise yourself just one glance. Flashing him your brightest grin, your eyes meet him—and the instant connection sends a deep blush rushing to your cheeks. It remains on your face throughout the song as you continue to sing. 

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?

Oh, I hear you knockin', baby, come on up”

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might

Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love (Oh)”

Your blush never fades as you pour yourself into the sultry song about your lover, every lyric a teasing confession. Your movements are sensual and playful, and the choreography pulls the audience deeper into your world. They sing along to every word, their energy electrifying, reminding you that moments like this make it all worth it.

“I showed my friends, then we high-fived (Ah-ah)

Sorry if you feel objеctified (Ah-ah)

Can't help myself; hormonеs are high

Give me more than just some butterflies”

You quickly make your way down the catwalk as you sing and dance, smiling at the sea of people around. You get right to the tip of the heart at the end of the stage and give your cheekiest smile. 

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out some freaky positions?

Have you ever tried this one?”

As the lyrics leave your lips, you drop to your hands and knees at the center of the heart-shaped stage, rocking your hips in a slow, sensual tease. With a playful bite of your lip and a cheeky wink to the crowd, the message is crystal clear. The arena erupts at the bold display, but you’re already back on your feet, slipping seamlessly into the next move. The cameras cut to Pedro—his head shaking, a knowing smile on his lips as he chuckles with your friends. The stage slowly rises above the crowd as you continue to sing. 

I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might

Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love

“Alright, LA, sing this next part with me at the top of your lungs!” you exclaimed to the crowd, shimmering in the air. “Let me hear every single one of you!” You seamlessly kneel and place your hand on your chest as you sing the bridge. 

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me

Mark your territory (Ah-ah)

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one (Ah-ah)

Adore me

Hold me and explore me (Ah-ah)

I'm so fuckin' horny

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one”

Behind you, the screen flashes the song’s lyrics in bold, glowing letters, each word pulsing with the rhythm. As you reach the bridge, your mind drifts—those lyrics, once just melodies, now feel like a private confession, each line a tantalizing reminder of your lover. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but you keep singing, letting the emotion seep into every note.

“(Oh, I) I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might (Might)

Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

The concert rolls on for a few more songs, each moment more electrifying than the last. A hint of sadness creeps in as the night nears its end, but the thrill of an unforgettable show lingers. Still, excitement bubbles within you—soon, you’ll be backstage, ready to celebrate a night that was nothing short of magic.

“LA, this has been the most unforgettable night of my life. My first big tour, my first night, and I got to spend it with you. I can’t even put into words how much this means to me—how much you mean to me. Thank you for believing in me, for screaming with me, and for making this dream a reality. I’ll never forget this night… unless the adrenaline wears off and I completely black out. But seriously, I love you all more than words can say. Thank you for everything!” You express your gratitude, trying not to get too emotional about the overwhelming feeling. You gently wipe your few happy tears from your face.

You blow kisses and wave as you gracefully go backstage with your dancers. Your team is waiting for you to help take your earpiece out and celebrate with you. They all give you compliments and congratulations. If there is any criticism, they will let you know tomorrow. 

After returning to the greenroom, the energy from the performance is still buzzing through your veins, and your friends and family pour in from the audience. Laughter and praise fill the space as they hug you and gush about their favorite moments of the show. Their words warm your heart, but before you can respond to them all, a familiar touch sends a shiver up your spine.  

Strong, warm hands settle on your hips, grounding you instantly. You turn swiftly, already knowing who they belong to, and are met with Pedro’s soft, adoring smile. Before you can say a word, he pulls you into his embrace, his scent wrapping around you like a comforting haze.  

“You were incredible, baby,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with pride. His hands trail down the fabric of your outfit, savoring the texture beneath his fingertips. The simple gesture sends a wave of goosebumps across your skin, and you can’t help but smile, leaning into his touch.  

Still basking in the moment, you slowly pull away just enough to meet his gaze, your voice warm with gratitude. “Thank you,” you whisper, the connection lingering between you.  

With his presence still humming through you, you turn back to your loved ones, laughter, and conversation effortlessly filling the space once more.

As the last of your friends and family trickle out of the arena, heading off to prepare for a celebratory late dinner, you stay behind in your dressing room, savoring the moment. Pedro remains by your side, a comforting presence as you decompress from the night. The air between you crackles with unspoken energy, and it’s clear you both can’t keep your hands to yourselves.

“You were quite the tease during your set, angel,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. His warmth envelops you as you sit on the small couch, his hands exploring your body with a playful familiarity. You giggle at his words, nodding in agreement, the tension between you both palpable.

“You knew exactly what you were doing to me,” he adds, his fingers dancing along your waist, drawing you closer. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes that sends your heart racing. “I’d love to see your stage set.”

A rush of excitement floods through you, your smile growing as you meet his gaze. “I’d love to show you,” you say, your voice soft but laced with promise. Taking his hand, you lead him toward the stage door, the lingering buzz of the night still thick in the air. A few crew members move about, cleaning up and prepping for tomorrow’s show, but your focus is entirely on him.

Waltzing onto the stage, you gesture to the elaborate setup, walking him through the details as you chat about your performance. His hands never leave you, fingers tracing idle patterns against your skin as he listens intently, slipping in jokes that send both of you into laughter.

But as you near the infamous round-shaped bed at center stage, warmth floods your cheeks. His smirk deepens. “You looked blissful the whole night,” he murmurs, his voice a low hum against your skin. “But there were two moments you looked absolutely delectable.”

His lips brush your neck, trailing soft, lingering kisses that send a shiver through you. A nervous giggle escapes as you instinctively tilt your head, granting him more access. Slowly, he eases you back onto the bed, his touch growing more assured, guiding you into surrender.

That’s what you do—surrender to him. It had been weeks since your schedules aligned, since you’d had a moment like this, and you weren’t about to waste it. You let him take control, guiding your body with ease, his fingers threading through your hair as his lips capture yours in a slow, lingering kiss.

A soft whimper escapes as he presses closer, his hands trailing down the front of your body, leaving a path of heat in their wake. “You were such a tease tonight, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and thick with amusement. His grip tightens around your thigh as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. The warmth of his body and how he moves against you sends a shiver through you, the anticipation crackling between you like electricity. “I think you might have been trying to get a reaction out of me.”

His hips dip into yours as you feel his warmth glide against yours, which causes you to squeeze your legs around me. His hands wander down to your bum, and he holds you close for a moment. With one swift movement, he flips you and positions you on top of him. Gripping your ass before giving a quick slap against your behind, which causes you to let out a yelp. You bury your head into his chest because you are embarrassed by being too loud and getting caught.

He gives you two more slaps that make you whimper against him and cause him to snicker. “Two can play the game, love,” he says as he grips your hips and pushes you against his clothed member. You buck your hips to create some friction between the two of you, which makes you let out the slightest whimper in need. His hand remains on your hips as you throw your head back as you let yourself hump him against him. He enables you to ride him as his hands roam towards your breast and knead them roughly, which causes a noise of frustration to erupt out of you. The slickness in your panties makes your determined hips work furiously against his hardened member. 

You were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t notice Pedro’s smirk, the glint of mischief in his eyes. He had a plan—one carefully crafted to make you pay for every playful tease, every bold move you pulled on stage.

Your breath hitched as his hands moved with deliberate slowness, his touch both gentle and commanding. “You had your fun tonight,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your skin. “Now it’s my turn.”

With a wicked smirk, he tightens his grip for just a moment before effortlessly sliding you off his lap, the loss of his warmth sending a desperate ache through your body. His hands linger—slow, deliberate—tracing over your skin as if memorizing every inch of you. Then, just as your breath catches in anticipation, he leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head. It’s tender, almost reverent, yet it only leaves you craving more.

As he rises, his gaze locks onto yours, dark with satisfaction, knowing exactly what he’s done. Without another word, he strides off the stage, vanishing into the shadows, leaving you there—breathless, flushed, and utterly undone, your body still humming with the need only he can satisfy.

For a moment, you lay there, catching your breath, your mind racing. You wouldn’t let this old dog win—not yet. Your teasing wasn’t over. But damn him, he’d left behind something deeper than just a game. The ache he ignited wasn’t one to be toyed with; it demanded more than just playful taunts. It needed to be answered.

Your body still burned from his touch, every nerve alive with the memory of him. You could still feel the ghost of his lips on your skin, the soft press of his kiss on the top of your head—a contradiction of tenderness and control that made your pulse quicken.

No, this wasn’t over. But first, you had to deal with the fire he’d so effortlessly set ablaze.

And that’s just what you start to do. 

Slowly, you push yourself up, your body still humming with the aftershocks of his touch. A quick glance around confirms what you already suspected—the crew has cleared out for the evening, leaving the stage bathed in dim, moody light, the perfect setting for what you’re about to do.  

A wicked smirk tugs at your lips as anticipation curls low in your stomach. If he thought he could leave you like this, aching and undone, he had another thing coming. This wasn’t just about need; it was about control and claiming the upper hand. And what better way than here, on his stage, where every move was meant to captivate an audience?  

Especially when that audience was him.  

With a slow, deliberate breath, you step back onto the fluffy pillow-covered bed, already imagining the look on his face when he realizes just what kind of show you’re about to put on.

You glance across the bed, your eyes drifting over the pleasurable options laid before you, each a temptation, a promise. The sight alone tugs you back to past nights, to the moments when distance kept you apart but never truly separated. You’ve performed this wicked little act for him before, in the privacy of your own home, a sinful display meant only for his eyes—his voice in your ear, coaxing, commanding, praising.

But tonight, it’s different. Tonight, this is your stage. Your domain.

The empty venue hums with silence, the stage lights casting a soft glow, illuminating the space where you captivate crowds with every note you sing. But now, there’s only one audience member you care about. He thinks he’s won, leaving you breathless and aching, but you smirk to yourself—this game is far from over. 

Your hands find the subject to your pleasure, which happens to be the firmest and fluffiest pillow on the bed. You mount the pillow as you had just previously mounted your lover. Your determined hips start at work again, creating your own friction against the softness of the pillow against your soaked panties. You couldn't hold back your soft moans as you rode in a familiar rhythm. 

Caught up in your own pleasure, you barely registered the weight of unseen eyes on you—though deep down, you felt it. That familiar heat, that electric prickle along your skin, warning you that you weren’t alone. But it didn’t matter. Not anymore.  

The game, the teasing, the push and pull—it all faded into something raw, something uncontrollable. You weren’t performing anymore. This wasn’t for show. This was need, pure and aching, a fire burning too hot to be tamed.  

Your breath hitched, your body surrendering to the moment, lost in sensation, in the hunger that refused to be ignored. And somewhere, hidden in the shadows, he watched. Silent. Waiting. Taking in every movement, every sound, every unguarded moment of you unraveling before him.

Before you knew it, rough, familiar hands were on you—firm, possessive, claiming what had always been his. A sharp gasp slipped from your lips, quickly followed by a frustrated groan. You had been so close, teetering on the edge, almost lost in your own pleasure, only to have him interrupt just as you were about to tip over.

But even through the frustration, you didn’t mind. Not one bit.

His touch and presence were precisely what you had been craving all along. The heat of his body pressed against yours, the unmistakable dominance in his grip, the way his breath fanned hot against your skin. He had been watching, waiting, letting you think you had control. But now, he was done watching.

His lips ghosted along the shell of your ear, his voice dark and dripping with satisfaction. "Did you really think I'd let you finish without me?" His fingers tightened, his body caging you in, making it clear—you weren’t going anywhere. "You put on quite the show, sweetheart… but now, it’s my turn."

Hands worked quickly, rough and unyielding, as he maneuvered you with ease—his strength undeniable, his intent unmistakable. Before you could catch your breath, you found yourself in the position you had so proudly displayed in your performance tonight, the one meant to tease, torment, and tempt him beyond reason.  

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest, his grip firm as he held you there, ensuring you understood exactly what would happen. His lips barely grazed your skin, his breath hot and taunting. "You wanted my attention, didn’t you?" he murmured, his voice laced with hunger. "Now you have it. Let’s see if you can handle what you’ve been begging for."

His boldness caught you off guard as you felt your slickness become bare, and the sound of pants unzipping rang through your ears. Before you knew it, his thickness probed at your walls, determined to finish what you both had started. His fingers make quick work to find your bundle of nerves, forcing you to moan deeply into the pillows. 

His hands gripped your hips firmly, but his eyes flickered to the pillow beneath you—still damp with your wetness, carrying the intoxicating scent of your need. The sight of it, the evidence of just how lost you had been in your own pleasure before he caught you, sent a dark, satisfied smirk across his lips.

"Look at this," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as his fingers ghosted over the damp fabric. "You were really putting on a show for me, weren’t you?"

He leaned in, his breath hot against your skin as his hands worked quickly, positioning you exactly how you had so boldly displayed yourself during your performance. "But now that I’m here," he continued, voice dripping with wicked promise, "let’s see if you can handle what you were begging for."

His promise was quickly answered as his hips brutally thrust into trying to relieve his ache of desire as well as yours. All at once, his thrust and fingers worked you up to mold effortlessly beneath his movements. You were moaning and gripping onto the fuzzy bed before you knew it. You heard his groans as you both were about to finish in sync. There was no more game at play, so you relinquished it and rode out your high together as he moaned heavily into your ear. His heavy moans are replaced with deep gasps from exhaustion, which match yours, and an adoring smirk on both of your faces. 

"I guess this means the war is over," you murmur, your breath still uneven as he eases away gently, cleaning himself off with slow, deliberate movements.

He exhales a quiet chuckle, his smirk softened but still present. "Maybe," he muses, casting you a knowing glance. "Or maybe we just found a new way to fight."

His fingers trail over your skin one last time before he leans back, watching you with the kind of satisfaction that promises—truce or not—this was far from the end.

In quick motion, he finds your discarded panties, using them to clean the two of you the best for the situation. He leaves kisses down your body as he does so, being the gentle lover again. He might fuck hard, but he is always a gentleman in the end (literally). 

The two of you return to your dressing room, the air still warm with the remnants of what just transpired. There’s a quiet intimacy in how he lingers, watching as you slip into something more comfortable, his hands occasionally brushing against you in small, affectionate gestures.  

You take a moment to clean up, smooth your hair, and touch up your makeup while he stands behind you, his presence steady and familiar. Every now and then, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder, a silent reminder of just how deeply he adores you.  

Falling into your usual rhythm, the playful teasing and gentle touches return, the two of you wrapped in the sweet comfort of each other. As he helps you fasten a necklace, his fingers grazing your skin, he meets your gaze in the mirror, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Ready, beautiful?"

With one last glance at yourselves, you take his hand, feeling nothing but warmth as you step out together, heading off to meet your loved ones for a late dinner—still lost in the afterglow of the night and of each other.  

As you settle into the car, the city lights flickering past the windows, he suddenly turns to you with a smirk, his tone light and teasing. “I do have a question: why are all the songs you write about me pertaining to  sex?” 

You roll your eyes, laughing as you shove his arm playfully. "Oh, shut up and drive." 

His chuckle fills the space between you, the perfect sound to end a perfect night.

[lil-dragon-rawr]

Y'all what if FNaF and DC were in the same universe can you imagine the chaos

Part Two, Part Three

Masterlist

Michael: *applies for a security job at WE because go big or go home amirite)

Tim, doing the interview because everyone else was freaked out by Michael: so, uh. What's your work experience

Michael: oh! I was a security officer for a bunch of places. Only for like a week at a time though cause I was only working there to set them on fire

Tim, now deeply concerned: um. So uh. That's a crime

Michael, realizing he made a Mistake™ and attempting to defend himself: hey, with the last gig it was literally in my contract that I had to burn the place down

Tim, contemplating insurance fraud:

Michael: also I'm great with lawsuits

Michael: *is living in Crime Alley because of course he is*

Michael: *gets shot while interrupting a gang war*

Michael, staring at the bullet in his chest: oh cool! My first souvenir from the east coast!

Red Hood, trying to get the obvious civilian out of the way: uhh hey buddy, are you good?

Michael "Allergic To Dying" Afton: yeah I'm good! Check out this bullet!

Red Hood, deeply concerned: what the [REDACTED]

Michael, remembering most people die when they're shot: oh don't worry, ever since I got scooped I can't die!

Red Hood, deeply concerned and regretting this conversation: uh. Scooped?

Michael, excited to talk about his trauma: yeah! My dead sister tricked me into getting my insides scooped out so she and her friends could wear my skin as a disguise to escape their prison

Red Hood:

Michael, working at WE and high on fear gas thanks to Scarecrow: oh, the nightmares are back!

Michael: *ignores them and keeps flipping through the cameras to see where Scarecrow went*

Red Robin, trying to help his employees: sir, you need to evacuate the building. Also, here's an antidote to the fear toxin-

Michael, annoyed: hey can you get out of my face? You're blocking the bestest boi

Red Robin: you're on fear toxin, whatever you're seeing isn't real

Michael: yeah and it wasn't real the first four years either but nightmare foxy is back and I'm never letting him go, he's the only one I like

Red Robin: sir please

Tim: *checks in on Michael and sees a little robotic bear reading an official-looking paper*

Tim, incredibly confused and praying that's not confidential WE info: hey Mike, whatcha got there

Michael, scooping up Helpy to present him like it's his favorite child: this is Helpy! He's the best and is so helpful. He also cuddles really nicely!

Michael, getting flashbacks: unlike SOME animatronics

Tim: what's he. What's he holding

Michael, with the energy of a parent excited to show off his kid's latest project: oh it's a lawsuit!

Michael, having a Conversation™ with Red Hood: wait you're dead too!

Red Hood: uhh yeah?

Michael: but why aren't you purple? Are you an animatronic?

Red Hood, incredibly confused: ...why would I be an animatronic?

Michael: cause you aren't decaying like me???

Red Hood: ok cool new question

Red Hood: HOW would I be an animatronic?

Michael: what, like it's difficult?

Michael: I mean, my little brother got rebuilt into an animatronic when he died so it's not that much of a stretch

Red Hood, realizing this is karma for every joke he made about his own death:

Michael: and there was that time a pile of robot spaghetti wore my skin so they could be a real person

Red Hood: would you pLEASE stop talking about that

Michael, ignoring him: didn't stop me from decaying though. Hm

WE: *gets shut out of their systems by an unknown hacker with a robot fox face*

Michael: don't worry guys I got this!

Tim, severely concerned that Batfam stuff is going to get leaked: but you're a security guard?? How-

Michael, typing in LOL: yeah don't worry it's just Lolbit! They like to cause problems on purpose from time to time

Tim: Lol...bit? Causes problems on purpose?

Michael: it's like enrichment

*Batfam realizes they have to start investigating Michael*

Red Hood: I mean, we could just ask him

Red Hood: the first time we met he told me exactly how he died in great detail

Red Hood, reminiscing (read: war flashbacks): he had a twenty-four slide powerpoint

Red Robin, realizing Michael's purple and smells bad for a reason other than "classic Gotham chemicals": he's dead???

Red Hood, desensitized: yeah, he didn't tell you?

Red Robin: *approaches Michael outside of work*

Michael, no longer high on fear toxin: oh hiya boss!

Red Robin, panicking: uhh what

Michael "FoxyBro" Afton: is there a reason you're talking to me outside of business hours? Am I in trouble?

Red Robin, wondering how he was going to explain this to Batman: uhhhhhh

Batman: please explain your previous jobs. For the investigation

Michael: oh! Well it all began when I tried to play a prank on my brother, shoved him into Fredbear's mouth, and got him killed-

Michael: then the nightmares started, which I later found out was partially due to my dad running experiments on me every night-

Michael: eventually he died but not really,

Michael: oh! And my sister got eaten by Baby-

Batman, lost at "shoved him into Fredbear's mouth":

*Batfam arrives at the Pizzaplex to try and figure out what the heck is going on*

Michael, there because he's visiting his siblings, standing next to Baby, Golden Freddy, and Gregory (on Glamrock Freddy's shoulders): oh hi guys!

Red Robin, who read the Funtime schematics: Michael what the [404 SWEAR NOT FOUND]

Red Hood: there's a child?? Why is there a child???

Michael: didn't I tell you about him? Anyways this is Gregory, he's the robot version of my dead brother!

Michael, gesturing to Golden Freddy: and this is my dead brother

Michael: though technically that's also another kid who lowkey kinda scares me

Michael, moving on: and this is my sister!

Michael: y'know, the one who tricked me into getting my insides scooped so she and her friends could wear my skin as a disguise?

Red Hood: can you PLEASE stop talking about that

Baby: I told you you wouldn't die!

Michael, looking at the Batfam like they're cameras from The Office: and she wonders why she's not my favorite sibling

Nightwing, having a moment but still trying to get information: who's. Who's the other bot

Michael, patting Glamrock Freddy: oh that's me!

Michael: a piece of me anyways

Nightwing: I have so many more questions

Signal, who can see the ghosts: please do not ask for answers.

Michael, showing the Batfam around the Pizzaplex: do you want to see my favorite ride?

Red Hood: ...sure

Michael: it's Foxy's log ride! Foxy is my favorite, I'm so upset he got replaced with Roxy but at least he's still around! Y'know when I was a kid I used to wear a Foxy mask, which is coincidentally the mask I wore when I got my brother killed-

Michael: *goes on a whole rant of the evolutions of Foxy and why OG Foxy is his favorite*

Red Hood: *starts taking notes*

Roxy, storming through the Pizzaplex: Gregory, you lawless RAT, how DARE you replace my HAIRBRUSH with a pORCUPINE-

Gregory: *running to hide behind Spoiler because he associates purple with Michael*

Spoiler: *as Roxy runs up* oh uhh hi there. Roxy right?

Roxy:

Roxy: you're not Gregory

Spoiler: haha nope! No Gregory here!

Roxy: oh. Sorry

Roxy: love your outfit though!

Spoiler: thanks, love your makeup!

Roxy: I know, right? I'm gorgeous!

Spoiler:

Roxy: ...wanna have a girl's night with me and Glamrock Chica where we get dressed up and make Sun swear in binary?

Spoiler: did you even need to ask?

Robin, in a corner vibing with Mangle: *petting Mangle*

Mangle, also vibing: ._.(^w^)

Batman:

Puppet:

Batman:

Puppet:

Red Hood, realizing this is a staring contest: *goes halfway across the Pizzaplex to get popcorn and comes back to them in the exact same positions* ooh. Getting interesting

Nightwing: *argues with Circus Baby about clown etiquette*

Signal, overwhelmed by all the ghosts: man sure wish I had my lofi beats to study and relax to right now

DJ Music Man: *climbs out of the wall*

Signal: *unholy screeching* HOLY M- wait you're chill aren't you

DJ: *starts playing his version of lofi beats to study and relax to*

Signal: ...huh

Black Bat: *disappeared, found Ballora, and is now dancing with her* (^ ^)

Red Robin, recognizing the fox face from the WE hack: yOU

Funtime Foxy: I appreciate the enthusiasm for performing arts, but you must be thinking of my sibling!

Red Robin, who didn't find Lolbit's blueprints: your what

Lolbit, appearing out of nowhere: he means me!

Red Robin, with newly energized fury: YOU!

Lolbit: ...LOL!

[talkdutchtome]

Do you know this tiktok trend where girls tell guys about paying at the mechanic's for premium air for their cars 😭 could you write a fic where y/n does that prank to Max?

"Premium Air?" - Max Verstappen

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )

genre . . . fluff )

wc . . . 825 words )

read my other work . . . here )

request something . . . here )

“Oh Maxy, I was supposed to mention, I took your car to be serviced. I know you’ve been so busy lately I thought I’d do that and give you one less thing to worry about” You said to your boyfriend, trying your hardest to suppress any giggles that wanted to escape. Your phone sat propped up on the bookshelf, strategically hidden so Max didn't notice.  

You had been seeing so many videos on TikTok where girls would prank their boyfriends or husbands by convincing them that they had bought “premium air” for the tires of their cars; and you decided that since so much of Max’s life revolved around cars, it would be the perfect way to prank him. 

“Oh, thank you very much baby, that’s kind of you, everything okay with it?” he said, never lifting his head up from his phone. 

“You’re welcome, yeah everything was okay they just said something about low tire pressure or something? I don’t really remember but I sorted it.” You said, fighting the mischievous grin that is trying to take its place on your face. At your words Max finally lifts his head up and looked at you, his brows furrowed. 

“Really are you sure? They seemed to be fine last time I drove it” his voice has a hint of concern lacing though it, clearly unsure where this is leading.  

“I’m not sure, that’s what the man said anyway. But I got it sorted. I even sprung for the premium air for you!” Your excitement was clear and the second the words left your lips, Max put his phone down, his full attention now on you. Confusion was etched on his face, his brows furrowed, and his lips pressed tightly in a fine line.  

“Premium air?” he questioned 

You nod enthusiastically, maintaining your poker face. "Yeah! It's the latest thing. It makes your car run smoother, improves fuel efficiency, and who knows, maybe it even adds a few extra horsepower."  

Max looks at you like you’ve got two heads and you come so close to ruining the whole prank and bursting out laughing.  

“Premium air?” he asked again, like he couldn’t find any other words to respond to your ridiculousness. “How much did this premium air cost you?” he asked with a bemused smile, that smile however, dropped as soon as you answered his question. 

“Oh, it was a steal! Like €150 a tire.”  

His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "€150 per tire? Are you serious Y/N? There's no such thing as premium air!" 

You feign innocence, "Oh, come on, Maxy, it's a special service they offered. You can't put a price on a smooth ride” Max sighs, a mix of frustration and amusement on his face.  

"Baby, I think you’ve been scammed. There's no such thing as premium air. Next time, let me know before you spend money on something like this." 

You play dumb, widening your eyes in mock surprise. "Scammed? But how could I buy it if it doesn't exist?" 

Max laughs, shaking his head. "You're too precious. Next time, let me come with you to the garage, okay? I'll make sure you don't fall for any tricks." 

You're left feeling a bit confused. Most of the prank videos you’ve seen end with frustration or annoyance, but Max seems more amused than anything else. 

As you sit there, still feeling a bit bewildered by Max's surprisingly lighthearted reaction, you gather the courage to ask him the burning question. "Hey, Max," you begin cautiously, "why aren't you mad at me?" 

He looks at you with genuine confusion. "Mad? What do you mean?" 

You take a deep breath and decide it's time to come clean. "The whole premium air thing—it was a prank," you admit, pointing discreetly at the camera you had strategically placed in the room to capture his reaction. 

Max's eyes widen in realization, and he breaks into a hearty laugh. "You got me!" he exclaims, playfully pushing you. 

You can't help but smile at his reaction, relieved that he found it amusing. "Seriously, though, why aren't you mad? Everyone else in those prank videos gets upset." 

Max wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer. "I didn't want to make you feel bad," he confesses. "You were just trying to do something nice for me, and I didn't want to ruin that by getting angry over a harmless mistake” You look up at him, touched by his understanding and kindness. "But I wasted money on something that doesn't exist. You could have been really mad." He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Money comes and goes, but you trying to make me happy means the world to me.” 

"I love you," you say, a mixture of gratitude and affection in your voice. 

Max smiles, his eyes filled with warmth. "I love you too, baby. Just remember, next time you decide to prank me, I'll be one step ahead." 

[another-lost-mc]

imagine some bittersweet angst where MC ends up with someone in the human world because she wasn't able to go back to the devildom, so the brothers look after MC's children and future descendants. Like imagine belphegor appearing in front of mc's daughter who calls him "uncle belphie", or lucifer and "mr Luci,". Basically being the guardian they couldn't be for lillith's descendants

a/n: okay that's a little sad to think about, but it's sort of precious too.

protecting what matters most | the demon brothers [dateables version]

1.2k words | sfw | gn!Reader

content/warnings: family dynamics and slice of life. fluff and angst, mention of character death and passage of time, mentions of raising children, platonic relationships with the demon brothers.

— Living in the Devildom for a year forged bonds with the demon brothers that can't be broken. You don't return, but they keep in touch with you however they can, starting with regularly scheduled phone calls and group chats over text, until eventually they surprise you with a visit to the human world.

— Asmo's the first one to find out that you met someone after you rebuilt your human life. The others didn't believe it until the day you formally introduced them to your partner. They hid their disappointment or anger or jealousy as best they could, but they had to admit that your partner was perfect for you. They'd never seen you so happy.

— Human lives are fleeting moments in time, and it wasn't until you told them about your engagement and upcoming nuptials that they realized your life would pass by in a blur. You'd be gone before they knew it, and they didn't want to take you for granted.

— They came to your wedding and gave you gifts, and they promised that their long-lost sister's future generations would be protected and cherished by them no matter what.

— Years pass and your house fills with family photos of your children's very eccentric uncles.

— Uncle Luci is the nicest. He bonds with your oldest child the most, but he teaches all your children the importance of family and patience and loyalty. Showing emotion and asking for help aren't signs of weakness, but signs of strength. He's also the one who gifted your family a puppy when your children were old enough to help care for it. He's in fewer photographs and videos than the rest of his siblings because he's usually the one volunteering to hold the camera. Watching your family stand intertwined with his fills the aching parts of his heart with love instead of pain and regret, and he wants to capture these special memories to look back on. His study and bedroom in the House of Lamentation are filled with these photographs too.

— Uncle Mammon is good at so many things. He shows them card tricks and he teaches them how to play games, too—Go Fish and Crazy 8's at first and Poker later. He tells them the importance of restraint and responsibility and that sometimes you need to make your own luck. He comes trick-or-treating on Halloween, and he'll even go into the haunted house attraction once they turn their puppy eyes on him. He helps the kids with math homework and science projects, and he helps each of them pick out and learn how to care for their first car. (He's twisted around their fingers the way he's still twisted around yours.)

— Uncle Levi is one of their favourites to invite for slumber parties. He brings lots of costumes and toys to play with, and he likes to watch cartoons and play video games as much as they do. He encourages them to be creative and unique no matter what anyone else thinks (but reminds them to call him or talk to their parents if they get teased or bullied). He takes the kids to opening day showings of the latest superhero movie they want to see, and they all come back with plastic collectible cups from the theater after eating way too much sugar. He gives some of the best gifts on special occasions and their birthdays.

— Uncle Sully fills your house with books. As your children grow older, he replaces their children's books with things more suitable for their ages and reading levels, and he delights when one of yours is as much of a bookworm as he is. He tries to teach them all about the power that comes from knowledge, and how books are not only a glimpse into the past but a hopeful peek into the future. He wants them to explore the world with an open mind and vivid imagination. He teaches them that family gives them strength and love and as long as they have each other, they can do anything.

(They start calling him Uncle Satan when they learn the truth about their beloved uncles. It was only a matter of time and you had years to prepare an explanation, but it still catches you off-guard: your children sitting very seriously at the kitchen table, looking at each other before one of them starts to speak. They ask tough questions about why their uncles don't seem to get any older, and why they can do all these amazing things they learn later is because of magic. Your youngest still calls him Uncle Sully; the others save that nickname for special occasions, just to get a rise out of him.)

— Uncle Asmo is so much fun! He helps you organize birthday parties and graduation parties, and when your children grow into adulthood and begin to live their own lives, weddings and honeymoons and baby showers too. He loves to be involved because he wants them to feel special and celebrated for all their achievements. It's also an excuse for him to spoil your family with clothes and gifts that you know can only be purchased in the Devildom. He helps you navigate their challenging teen years, talking to them about love and sex and healthy relationships. He makes sure they all know that he's there to lend an ear, a shoulder to cry on, or any other support or help they might need. He feels blessed to watch your family grow up because your love for them is so pure and beautiful; your impact on this world will linger long after you're gone.

— Uncle Beel and Uncle Belphie are the ones that take your children on some of their most cherished childhood adventures. They just happen to come by for a visit when traveling carnivals and theme parks open for the summer season. They all eat a ridiculous amount of food and come back with armfuls of souvenirs (which Beel happily pays for and refuses your attempts to pay him back). They suggest camping trips on long holiday weeks or ski vacations during the colder winter months. They like helping your children connect with nature and the stars and each other. Beel and Belphie tell the best stories, even if some of them are a little sad.

(They don't know until they're older that Uncle Belphie used to visit at nighttime and help care for them as babies. Sometimes you'd wake up and check on them to find them fast asleep in his arms while he rocked them in the chair beside their crib. Other nights, he visited when you'd already gotten up, but you always invited him to stay and listen while you hummed a lullaby.)

— Your children grow older and so do you. The demon brothers aren't ready to say goodbye—how could they be? When you're gone, it feels like they lost Lilith all over again. Death haunts them like shadow, but this time it's different because they realize that their family's not broken. It's stronger, and bigger, because you gave them that gift. In return, they promise to protect the descendants of Lilith that bear your name and have the same potential for greatness that you did.

— Your children's homes, and their children's after that, remain filled with photographs of their quirky uncles. The names and faces of the demon brothers are passed down along to each generation with a growing collection of impossible stories. It's your family's precious secret that each child is told when they're old enough to understand, because it's only a matter of time before the uncles arrive to visit them too.

[sirfrogsworth]

So, I've discovered a new annoying aspect of A.I.

A.I. "detectives" who don't actually have the experience to judge whether something is A.I.

A.I. does not *always* screw up hands. In fact, the latest models have that mostly fixed. Do not count on screwy hands to be a giveaway every time.

And if you are looking at that photo and thinking this person only has four fingers, I have a magic trick I'd like to show you.

That's right, I've had my pinky removed.

It was a useless finger and I couldn't be bothered to lug around those extra few ounces of digit.

Wait... oh my god... I THINK IT IS GROWING BACK!

It's good to be skeptical.

But it's also good to be *sure*.

And when a camera angle can explain something, you don't automatically have to jump to A.I.

It's a real photo of some dumb fucks who are so distantly related to Tim Walz, they aren't invited to the BBQ.

[heliads]

there's things i want to say to you

No one on this earth can get under your skin quite like Lando Norris. It would take something insane for you to be able to move past that. Maybe realizing that Lando's crazy for you would do the trick.

masterlistT

You have one mission for this particular race weekend, one mission alone, and that is to not mess up. On the track, off the track. Don’t fuck it up. This isn’t unusual by any means– flying around corners and down straights at such tumultuous speeds typically means you aren’t angling to make any mistakes anyway, but this weekend in particular needs to be perfect.

Everyone’s on edge right now, not just you. This is the time of year when contracts start expiring, when what had seemed like a decent season might end up being your last. It’s all on the wire, and at last it’s occurring to you, and everyone else for that matter, that their entire career is up to whatever they do on the track.

You’ve already sat down with your PR manager several times to discuss how you should handle this weekend, as well as the next few weekends until you can get a contract renewal locked in. You have no reason to doubt your current team, you’ve been delivering the results as asked, but there’s always the small voice in the back of your head wondering if you haven’t been picking up on the warning signs. You’ve heard of drivers getting blindsided before. Why couldn’t it happen to you?

So yes, although you’ve been just fine since your last contract signing, drivers have been let go for smaller offenses. That’s why you need to be damn near perfect this weekend. If you get through this latest race with no mistakes and some good points, you’ll be just fine. Once you’ve signed to your team again, you can relax. Up until that time, though, your behavior needs to be as proper as you can make it.

You’ve been managing such a task pretty well this whole weekend. Thursday you were nervous but in control all throughout the interviews, Friday landed you some good practices, and you did well enough in Saturday’s qualifying that you have nothing to lose sleep over yet, at least. You just need to get through today, and then luck will be on your side even more than before.

The race will start in less than an hour; you’re wandering the grid in the throngs of other drivers and team principles and spectators. At some point soon, you’ll have to head over to listen to the usual bungling of the host country’s national anthem, but until then, you’re putting on a good face. Your PR manager is flashing you discreet thumbs up whenever you see her. Life is good.

You weave around the various cars, not so close that you’ll be accused of spying but just close enough that you could, you know, if you wanted to. No one minds getting a better idea of their opponents’ sidepod designs anyway. Above all else, you keep an eye out for camera crews; Martin Brundle’s here somewhere, interviewing some poor sap, and you’d like to keep out of his way lest he turn to questioning you instead. The guy’s got a knack for getting under anyone’s skin, you don’t much feel like an interrogation today.

In fact, you can see him right now, eagerly thrusting his microphone towards some hapless driver. You see the papaya cap first, then hear the grating voice, and– well, maybe you’ll drift a little closer than before, because watching Lando Norris get picked to pieces by Martin won’t be the worst start to your race morning after all.

In single-seater racing, everyone is your enemy. At the end of the day, it’s you versus all nineteen other drivers on the grid. This means that you should have no particular arch rival, but if you were going to hate someone more than anyone else like that, it would be Lando by a long shot.

He’s just infuriating, that’s all. It’s like racing with a kid, he never learned to grow up, and every time you have to talk to him, you walk away wishing you could throttle him. Lando annoys you to death, and worst of all, he’s quite aware of it and proud of it, too. Usually, you go out of your way to avoid being near him, but you can make out the displeased look on his face from here, and if Martin Brundle is tearing him to shreds, well, you’d like to hear that more than anything.

You casually adjust course so you’ll be passing behind Lando. It looks like nothing at all, just you trying to navigate the packed grid, but you can hear every word of the conversation happening between Martin and Lando now.

You can’t help but smile as you hear Martin questioning Lando.  “McLaren hasn’t had as good of a weekend so far as they’d like, I think,” Martin is saying, “What’s your strategy to turn that bit of bad luck around?”

Lando’s grin is frozen on his face like plastic. “Uh, we’ll definitely be gunning for whoever’s in front of us with everything we’ve got. Best strategy is to just go for it.”

Martin nods. You’re close enough now that you’re about to walk straight behind Lando, close enough that you swear Martin sees you just before he asks, “Anyone in particular that you’ll be going for?”

“Yeah,” Lando says, scratching his head absentmindedly, “Y/N L/N.”

Perfect timing. The cameraman quickly pans his camera between Lando’s deliverance of this answer to you, right over his shoulder like a devil. The worst part is that you genuinely don’t even think Lando knew you were there or planned it like that. He just likes throwing you under the bus for fun.

Martin chuckles– this must be the best thing for him all morning, really, drama like this gets him talked about like nothing else– and addresses his next question to you. “So, Y/N, what do you think about that?”

Lando turns around, evidently startled, but you just plaster on a smile. “He can try his best, but I won’t be letting anyone through today,” you tell Martin, and leave as soon as you can.

You can sense the cameras following you no matter how far away you go. Damn. And, as you walk further towards a group of your race engineers, you remember the most important part of your PR manager’s advice for this weekend:  avoiding trouble, not just putting on a good face. That hasn’t worked out so well for you now. You do very well in that race, but what the Internet focuses on the most in the days to come isn’t your result but endless gifs of your irritated face in the background of Lando’s interview when he says he’ll be targeting you.

It’s not the greatest, to say the least. So much for playing it cool before a contract is signed. Oh, PR’s going to have a holiday over this one. You’d almost be surprised with the speed at which they suggest a media activity to wipe the slate clean, except for the fact that they’ve probably been counting on you messing something up this weekend so they had to have backup plans. Always nice to be trusted, isn’t it?

The event actually isn’t that bad. They’ve gotten a good amount of you together for some manner of charity work/awareness raising/well intentioned propaganda nonsense. They love putting F1 drivers together on a program outside race week, like it’s some kind of proof they can point to when the press conferences seem more awkward than usual. See, they hang out all the time! Of course they like each other!

(They do not like each other. Not at all. Some do, but. Most are not some. You are not some.) 

Today, drivers will be in pairs, volunteering with children so motorsport can accrue a younger fanbase. Normally, you love events like this, the kids get so excited to talk to an actual live Formula One driver as if they’re typically just in display cases or something. Things will go wrong, fun times will be had, and your PR manager will ease off for a day or two provided that you do a good job. Not the worst thing in the world.

Usually, the organizers of such image-boosting nonsense at least try to put friends together. Quick camera cuts and a good deal of B-roll can only do so much to cover up the missed jokes, the cruel laughs. You’re with your teammate more often than not, a unified front, or else with one of the drivers you’re closer to. It’s easier that way. The smiles come more quickly.

That’s what you expect when you show up. Instead, you glance at the email telling you the place and the name and the time, and you see that you’ll be stationed with– no, no please– Lando. Lando Norris. Lando, the one boy you can’t stand more than anyone.

They know that. Of course they do. It is physically impossible to avoid that fact. As if you haven’t seen the YouTube compilations of terrible moments between the two of you, the Instagram posts with the hateful stares, the TikToks with captivating audios of every time you’ve slighted each other in the paddock or during interviews. You’re a bitch, he’s an ass, and neither of you get to be the good one coming out of those fights, but more often than not, it’s him.

There’s nothing you can do about it now. Causing a kerfuffle will only turn the organizers against you, and you refuse to show weakness in the face of British children, drivers or otherwise, so you keep your smile fake and your mouth shut. This is a good cause. You can hold your tongue for a few hours. The kids will, at least, appreciate it. Hopefully.

Lando’s already at your assigned station when you get there. He’s spinning aimlessly in one of the chairs they’ve given him, and you have to fight to hide your laugh at his rotation speed.

“Trying to train for G-Force, are you? I’m almost impressed with your dedication to the sport, Norris.”

Lando looks up with a start when you speak, and he hurriedly puts his feet down to stop his frenzied spinning. “You’re impressed with me? Glad to hear it.”

You roll your eyes, taking a seat on the chair next to him. “Oh, always. Do you know who put the two of us together on this activity? I want to have words with them.”

Lando snorts. “Not me, definitely. Whoever it is, they’re probably in witness protection at the moment. You look like you’re going to murder someone.”

“It might be you,” you tell him.

He groans. “Come off it. What have I even done to you? Can we not go without fighting for, like, five minutes?”

You scoff. “You’re the one who went after me on live television not three days ago.”

“Oh, you mean the interview with Brundle? That was so not my fault. He tries to trick you into going after other drivers, you know that.” Lando argues.

You arch a brow. “So he specifically tricked you into naming me as your first target? I didn’t know he operated at that level of mental warfare.”

Lando has the grace to look somewhat ashamed. “No. Uh. That may have been me.”

Thankfully, you’re interrupted by one of the event organizers coming in to tell you that the kids are arriving shortly. They pour in soon enough, about dozen children all thrilled to death about the fact that they actually get to talk to you and Lando. You’re soon distracted by the flood of questions directed towards you, ranging from kids wanting to know which drivers you’re best friends with to what superhero is your favorite.

You answer each question with equal solemnity, and before long you’re laughing with ease. You’re meant to be doing crafts and questions, so you help the kids make plastic beaded bracelets while you talk about the different colors of the flags and tyres. All in a day’s work.

Surprisingly, the fact that you have to do all of this with Lando right there beside you isn’t the worst thing in the world. He seems content to just watch you have fun with the kids with this weird, quiet smile on his face, and when everyone’s making their crafts, he’s bent over a project of his own, one that he refuses to let you so much as peek at.

At last, Lando straightens up and presents the finished product with a flourish. “It’s for you,” he says proudly, “Consider it a peace offering.”

You stare at it. He’s made a bracelet for you, complete with the same brightly colored beads that the other kids are using. Except, in the center, he’s spelled out a message—

You frown at him, confused. “This just says ‘driver.’”

“You are one,” Lando points out helpfully. 

There is a fight to not roll your eyes, and you are on the losing side. “Incredible.”

“I also made it in your team colors,” he says. He’s smiling at it. At you. Fondly.

It’s not an expression you usually associate with him, but you’re smiling too, aren’t you? You can’t seem to stop. It’s just— you’re here with him, and instead of fighting, he’s gone to the trouble of making you this. Your colors, your message. Fuck. 

You slip it onto your wrist before you can stop yourself. “Thank you.”

Lando’s grin broadens. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

You let out a frustrated huff. “You’ve ruined the moment. Stop having an agenda.”

“You’re still smiling despite my agenda,” Lando mentions. 

He’s unreal. It’s not as bad as before, though. Not that you’d tell him that much. 

Just in case he actually has ruined the brief moment of peace, Lando raises his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, then,” he says, “I’ll be better. Name one thing I can do to make this easier on you and I’ll get it done in a heartbeat.”

He’s expecting you to tell him there’s nothing he can do to improve himself in your eyes. It’ll make him seem like the bigger person and he’ll have the upper hand, then. Instead, you tilt your head to the side, considering him, and then at last point your finger at the offense on his chin.

“Shave the half-beard,” you say, “Please. It’s an eyesore.”

“Will that get you to stop complaining?” He asks, mouth twisting up in an amused grin. 

“Nothing can,” you argue back, “I thought you knew that.”

If anything, Lando only seems more pleased by your response. “I’m starting to learn.”

He’s stubbornly unwilling to argue with you. It would be infuriating, but for some reason, it still makes you smile thinking about it hours after you get back home, rubbing your thumb over the beads on the bracelet he strung for you. 

And, when you see him at the paddock for the next race, he’s fucking clean shaven. Not a whisper of a beard in sight. He spots you looking and winks. What the hell. 

It makes no sense. None at all. He doesn’t say a thing about it, and if he won’t, then you can’t either, because you’re not entirely sure that this isn’t just all in your head. Maybe he felt like shaving anyway. Maybe a girlfriend put him up to it or something. This prompts a frantic research session, and after perusing many F1 WAGs Instagram accounts, you’re certain that Lando isn’t dating anyone at the moment. This isn’t important information, of course. You’re just, you know, curious.

You keep the bracelet on. Tucked under a sleeve, always, no one needs to know and least of all Lando, but it stays on. You’re not entirely sure why. Luxury brands have offered you diamonds, but Lando made this for you, and for some reason, that makes it far more valuable in your opinion than anything else. It’s silly, but it’s yours. That’s all.

No one has picked up on the war waging in your head. Your PR manager mentioned once that she was glad you and Lando weren’t actively fighting anymore, and it took you a few moments before you realized she was right. Not only have you stopped sniping at each other in interviews, but a couple races now, he’s actually approached you in the paddock to talk, and what’s more, you’ve let him.

It’s stupid, and unreasonable, and definitely not something you should be devoting so much of your life to thinking about, but now that the seed has been planted in your head, it’s kind of impossible to ignore. Lando gets you water on hot weekends. He helps you avoid Martin Brundle when the commentator is out doing his grid walks. You seek him out to talk through race results. You laugh at each other’s misfortune, but it doesn’t sting like it did before.

He’s insufferable. You love him. 

You love him. 

It’s the first time you’ve admitted as much to yourself. You have a feeling that it won’t be the last. There is much more to you, to him, than just the fighting, so much more that you want to explore and express and linger over, but—

But Lando doesn’t want that, does he? Lando is a spoiled brat, a young Prince Charming who is very used to getting what he wants and not at all acquainted with people contradicting that. It’s why the two of you clashed for the first time. If he had wanted you in any sense of the word other than as an enemy, he would have done something about it at the start.

Even now, the two of you have been drunk in clubs before, have walked back to hotels alone in the middle of the night. If Lando wanted something from you, something more, he could have taken it. He hasn’t, so the awful truth you must admit to yourself if this:  he doesn’t want it at all. He’s studiously neutral, but nothing more than that.

It’s starting to gnaw away at you. Lando isn’t the only one who likes getting what he wants. Now that you’ve stopped hating each other, he’s closer to you than he ever has been, but yet it still isn’t enough. You can stand right next to him, can even lean against his shoulder, but it all means nothing.

It’s infuriating. It makes you act up, act out. Your shared friends on the grid invite you out to some gala, and you go because you know Lando will be there, and you leave early because you want him to follow you out. He does, and you two argue the whole way back, because if you can’t have him as you want, maybe you should push him away. It’ll certainly make things easier.

The two of you are squabbling in the back of the taxi about something unnecessary. Probably something he said and you escalated, if not the other way around. At last, you can’t take the weight of his disapproval anymore, and you ask the driver to let you out. It’s close enough to your hotel that you can walk, anyway. Lando can stay in the car and go back to his place. Problem solved.

It is, at least, until he chases you out of the car as well. He’s saying something about how you need to get back in the car, something about an approaching storm. You look up at the darkening sky and realize what he’s talking about. You had half thought that the distant thunder had been in your own head instead of across the city, but storm clouds are descending upon you now.

Lando shakes his head exasperatedly, hurrying you towards the door of the hotel. It really isn’t that far, but he still threatens to carry you there at least twice. His temper only grows more taut when he starts seeing lightning in the distance. It isn’t even raining here yet, but he doesn’t relax until you’re both through the door and out of harm’s way.

You, on the other hand, only freeze up when the roof is at last over your head. It occurs to you, not three steps into the shelter of the lobby, that your wrist is bare. Underneath your jacket, you reach over to scratch absentmindedly just beneath your other palm, but instead of hitting plastic beads, they touch only blank skin. You freeze in place, gaze swinging wildly to your forearm, but it’s true, the bracelet is gone. You don’t remember it coming off, but it’s gone now.

A frantic search of your pockets reveals nothing; as if they’re deep enough to hold anything, anyway, least of all this all-important thing. The bracelet was on your wrist when you left the cab, so it must have been lost while you were outside. It wouldn’t have been that long ago now. You could still find it.

Lando groans in irritation when you immediately make for the doors once more. “Y/N, come on–”

You’re ignoring him, though. Lando’s going to think the worst of you anyway, and you want your bracelet more than you want his incensed remarks about how it’s such a bad idea to stay out in this weather. The storm is hurriedly dawning upon you, and the trees lining the walkways shake as if with fright or chill, but that doesn’t stop you from retracing your steps, silently praying that you’ll find the one thing you cannot bear to lose. You can buy an awful lot back, misplacing jackets or other jewelry isn’t that big of a deal, but that bracelet– well, Lando only made one of those, and it was yours.

You didn’t walk that far when you were out here, all things considered, so you’re able to pinpoint the possible bracelet locations quickly. Either here, behind the flowering tree, or there, along the stone walkway—

Lando has followed you out, raising his arm over his face to protect from the spattering of raindrops now starting to fall from the sky. “Y/N, come on, I’m serious, we have to go in.”

You hold up a finger, still looking only at the ground. “Just give me a second.”

Lando heaves another tremendous sigh. “What are you even doing?”

“Trying to find something I lost.” You have to raise your voice to be heard over a clap of thunder which, although isn’t necessarily nearby, still makes Lando flinch as if the ominous sound came from overhead. 

“It isn’t worth it,” he says, “we can find it later, I promise. Just get inside, will you?”

“No!” You shout back.

Lando casts a frantic look up at the approaching storm, then rushes over to stand in front of you, blocking you from moving any further. “Y/N, please. What could possibly be important enough to stay out here? You’re going to get struck by lightning.”

You try to escape past him, but Lando stays firm, refusing to budge until you tell him what the matter is. At last, you give in. “Fine. It’s your bracelet, the one you made me. You made it for me, I’m not losing it. You may not like me, not like– Not like I like you, but at least I can have that. That’s what I want.”

Lando’s face goes blank. Whatever he was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. The naked surprise in his expression makes your stomach twist with shame, and you turn away, headed back to your search once more. Lando was caught off guard by your answer, so he isn’t able to stop you.

You hurry away from him. You don’t know what he’s thinking, or, hell, why he even made you the bracelet in the first place. Maybe it was for a specific reason, but it was probably just supposed to be a joke, something to be used against you, but you kept it anyway. You kept it, and you treasured it like gold.

You run further into the storm, away from him. The rain starts to fall even more than before. Maybe it’s okay, though. If the storm carries you away, if it drowns you in the flood, at least you won’t have to face him again. You look from side to side, searching for any pocket of plastic colors, but nothing, nothing.

Nothing, and then Lando’s voice, faint because of the storm, but still there somehow. Still there, despite everything you’ve said to him.

“I wanted you,” he calls back, shouting to be heard over the ever quickening wind. “I wanted you, but you hated me, and I thought it was better if we were enemies than nothing. At last then I could still talk to you.”

You feel as if you’ve been struck by lightning. The shock of it freezes you in place, even as the rain pounds down in sheets around you, chilling you through skin to bone and blood. It is only now, once your frenzy has been replaced by sheer immobilizing surprise, that you stand still long enough to spot the bracelet at last, tucked inside the cup of a stone on the walkway.

You reach out to pick it up, but your hand meets someone else’s before your fingers can close around the beads. When you look up, it’s him, it’s Lando, just as soaked from the rain as you, but here. Still here. Still here, for you.

He slides the bracelet over your wrist, then leans closer, just enough that you can feel the reverberations of his whispered hurry as he whispers it to you before urging you back towards the hotel once more. He’s pulled off his jacket and holds it above the two of you to protect from the wind and rain. It forces you to run so close to him that you can feel the heat radiating between the slim space from his ribs to yours. 

You feel it still, even after you make it past the threshold of the hotel and stand there, shivering, just behind the glass doors. You can see the storm wild outside– so crazy to think that you’d just been out there, with the wind tearing at the trees and the rain so devastating– but in here, it’s calm, completely still.

Lando remains just a breath away, slowly lowering his dripping jacket away from your head. “It’s you,” he repeats, “It’s always been you.”

After all of that, all of those revelations and discoveries, he still has it in himself to surprise you. The kiss is unexpected, but not unwelcome, and warms you head to toe despite the cold of the rain still pressed deep within your bones. It’s welcoming, inviting, and it tells you that despite everything, every fight, every reason not to stay– it will only get better from here.

f1 taglist: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

[jennistarjs]

Rings of Power Characters Favourite Reading Genres

Galadriel – Insists she only reads non-fiction, because why would you waste your time reading about people and places that aren’t real. Would rather die than admit she likes romantasy.

Elrond – One of those rare people who actually likes literary fiction and will bore people to death talking about it. His guilty pleasure is Dan Brown books, which only Durin knows about.

Gil-galad – Usually too busy reading articles and journals for work, but does like a bit of poetry.

Celebrimbor – Classic sci fi nerd. Arthur C Clarke is his hero.

Cirdan – Goes on about books that were written centuries ago that no one knows anything about.

Arondir – Loves books about natural sciences and gardening. He and Galadriel host a monthly non-fiction book club – they’re the only ones who attend.

Durin IV – Action thrillers all the way. The more nonsensical the plot, the better. Once read a poem about a tree that made him cry for 3 days straight.

Disa – Loves fantasy with strong female characters and interesting magic systems.

King Durin III – Listens to audio books but won’t tell you what they’re about.

Narvi – Loves comedies and can often be found sat in an alcove roaring with laughter over his latest read.

Theo – Uses a kindle only, mostly so people won’t be able to tell what he’s reading. Secretly a fan of trashy romance.

Estrid – Reads romance, but surprisingly discerning in her taste and likes complex relationships.

Isildur - Just reads what Estrid reads and has the same opinions Estrid has.

Elendil – Loves old legends with dashing heroes and fair maidens. Loves writing self insert fanfiction where he is the dashing hero and Miriel is the fair maiden.

Miriel – Is that person who will recommend an obscure book that you’ve never heard of, then it turns out to be the best thing you’ve ever read and completely changes your life. How does she find these books? No one knows. (She definitely knows about Elendil's fanfic though.)

Pharazon – Reads motivational self help books. None of them do him any good.

Earien – Likes a good political treatise or spy thriller. Will discuss them intensely as you sit there wondering what the hell she’s talking about.

Valandil – Bizarrely loves the classics. He can talk about Jane Austen all day long.

Kemen – Doesn’t read. Listens to podcasts about how to be an alpha male. Worst person you’ve ever met.

Nori – Loves adventure stories where characters discover new and exciting lands.

Poppy – Fantasy queen. Prolific reader. If you ever mention you like fantasy, she will give you a recommendation list as long as your arm.

The Stranger – Gets way too emotionally invested in characters and has been banned from reading after The Very Hungry Caterpillar destroyed him for a week. (“Why does he never have enough to eat?!”)

Adar – Loves histories, and particularly enjoys discussing where great leaders went wrong. Once read a parenting book and tried out various tips and tricks on the orcs, which was very confusing for all concerned.

Tom Bombadil – Reads Lord of the Rings and looks into the camera like he’s on The Office.

Sauron – Read Mein Kampf and decided Hitler didn’t go far enough. Loves psychological thrillers. Reads the romantasy books Galadriel likes so he can message her incessantly about them (she leaves him on read).

[mawinswag]

DIGITAL CIRCUS JAX THEORY

MASSIVE SPOILERS OBVIOUSLY BUT HERE WE GO!!!

.

.

.

.

.

.

. Ok, are you good? Ok

So, as many have pointed out already, there’s a scene at the end of episode 2 [22:23] where after Caine kills gummigoo and sends him back to the canyon, that he fears he can’t know for certain who’s a human and who’s an NPC. So foreshadowing, reference to past events or wacky non-sequitur? Maybe none of them, but the possibility that one of the circus members is actually an NPC is obviously too tantalizing for me to pass up, and given events AFTER this scene I think it can only be Jax, and I’ve got a few pieces of evidence why.

The main crux of this whole thing is that Jax IS an NPC, but he’s the only one in the circus who KNOWS that and is absolutely desperate to make sure that no one finds that out.

Episode one! Small note to start out on, but literally the first thing we learn about Jax, the VERY FIRST thing he has to ask is if Pomni is an NPC or not. Narratively, he’s the person who introduces the CONCEPT of NPCs into this universe, not Ragatha - who tries to break in Pomni the most - or Kinger who seems the most knowledgeable about the circus as a concept. He’s also very intrigued at the concept of a new AI in episode 2 [02:49} Like, the fact that she popped up in the circus unexpectedly doesn’t tip him off that she’s a human character immediately. Which may be how HE was able to trick everyone into thinking he was a human instead of an NPC - possibly by sneaking back through a portal like Gummigoo did and hiding until the start of the next adventure. 

He DOES mention knowing about the headsets like the other human characters, but there’s no reason he CAN’T know about that considering he’s not the latest person to enter the circus. Like, we have a GENERAL idea of who entered first, but that’s just the characters who are still around for the pilot - there’s a lot more considering how many bedroom doors there are. https://shorturl.at/asESX 

So, generally, it’s Kinger, Ragatha, Jax/Gangle, Zooble, then Pomni. Now, how can I argue that Jax is an NPC when he has a canonical age? Not to mention, he’s got a canonical ‘appearance moment.’ Well, there are a few options. Option one is that - NPC or not - Jax HAS been here for a very long time, but rather than being a human, he was born inside the circus. He has a definite, APPEARANCE moment, but it's only implied that this is because of him ENTERING the circus proper - new NPCs appear in the big top all the time, i.e. the gloinks all the mannequins, etc. 

But also, take those ages with a pinch of salt, considering a lot of it was about quelling shipping wars and stopping any discourse about characters being adults and all that lovely hellish nightmare stuff. I think goose had an idea in her head about which characters entered the circus FIRST for sure, but how much they’ve aged and WHETHER they’ve aged is its own question.

ALRIGHT! But enough about Tumblr asks, back to the pilot, I wanna note something that happens with Jax in particular more than any other performer in the circus. He’s the most apparent of the interstitial nature of the circus itself - and the most meta. This can range from him basically winking at the camera like in the pilot [8:37] but I think it’s a bit more than that. Jax in particular is more aware of being a CHARACTER in-universe than specifically being a character in an indie animated series.

After this moment in the pilot [19:58] where Jax says ‘ladies first’ to Gangle as if to be polite before promptly following that up with “no, wait, why would I say that,” indicates a few things to me. Jax is at the very least aware that he’s supposed to act a certain way, and realizes when he’s acting out of ‘character’ in this scene and course-corrects promptly. Again, could be a funny meta reference, but also it could be a hanging notion of the fact he literally WAS a character in-universe, an NPC with a pre-programmed personality and understanding of the world. He’s got this rigid understanding of how the characters are SUPPOSED to act and this comes up again in episode two when goading Gangle into driving the tanker over the rocks - saying she’s SUPPOSED to be ‘submissive and agreeable,’ [Episode 2, 7:24]. This sort of disconnect from how complicated people can be and his overall detachment and overstepping of peoples lives [NPC or otherwise] comes up a lot. He doesn’t really ‘get’ other people, WHICH DOESN’T AUTOMATICALLY MAKE A PERSON EVIL, I SHOULD PREFACE, and him not getting it doesn’t automatically make him more ‘robotic’ and thus an AI, but it does explain why he’s more emotionally distant than the other performers. Coming from someone who could’ve been programmed to behave a certain way, his confusion makes sense.

Now for that juicy stuff! One of the few moments where Jax isn’t in control of a situation is in the pilot, where he’s trying desperately to hide from an abstracted Kaufmo. Now yes, obviously this is a sign of his own instincts of self-preservation, but what interests me is how he seems the MOST bothered by the thought of Kaufmo than any other character. Like at [17:27] of the pilot where he sees a glitched gloink and immediately his eyes start darting around him as if he’s listening for threats. He even explicitly says at [19:19] that he’s “just here to hide from [Kaufmo]” and isn’t invested in the adventure at all. And yes it's a very interesting character moment, but how does it push us closer to him being an NPC. Well, it’s because he’s afraid of dying. When you compare how he reacts to Kaufmo to how RAGATHA reacts to him, there’s a comparative lack of fear with her. Like yeah, she’s scared of him, but she’s never convinced that she’s gonna die and even tells Pomni later that Caine will be able to fix her up no problem [14:52]. She’s scared because she CAN feel pain, [https://tinyurl.com/ye275884] but she can’t die, none of the performers can, Caine doesn’t kill Kaufmo when he abstracts, he just throws him in the cellar with the others. His mind is GONE, sure, but it’s not dead. 

NPCs on the other hand, can ABSOLUTELY DIE. So if Jax is an NPC, then there’s a very good reason why he wouldn’t wanna even get CLOSE to Kaufmo in the pilot, because he’s not as durable as Ragatha is and there’s not gonna be an easy fix for him if he gets hurt.

Now, episode two has little sprinkles of Jaxs’ detachment all over it, but none of it explicitly points in the direction of him being an NPC until a partway through the episode. We do get a lot of him showing absolutely no value for the lives of those around him whether than being putting Gangle and Pomni thru the ringer or setting the people of Candy Canyon Kingdom up to be killed by the fudge, but the question is…why? 

My answer is; he’s AM from ‘I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream.’ Uhmm, what? Yup that’s right. Ok so it’s no secret that IHNMAIMS was a big inspiration for TADC [https://shorturl.at/hnsFV] and while Caine obviously got the most of this influence with him being a godlike AI who only has control over a bunch of sad, sappy humans, some of which he throws into a giant abominable melting goop monster of human suffering, but if you look at Caine's inspirations [AM from IHNMAIMS] you’ll find that the same motivations more than drive Jax under this theories' interpretation of events. Simply put, AM, a war machine, gains sentience and absolutely despises humanity because DESPITE that sentience, he is absolutely powerless to do anything meaningful with it except torture a group of humans. He’s painfully aware of his own sentience and hates all humanity for creating him, is the gist.

My interpretation is that while Caine has the thematics, Jax has the motivation. In this theory, at some point Jax was an NPC and gained a sentience of his own either through a quirk of programming, intentional design, or AI learning. He realizes that he can keep himself alive if he pretends to be a performer, because he learns that Caine can’t affect the minds or actions of the real humans in his realm. He’s sapient, but he’s in this uncomfortable position where he’s not immortal like the performers, but completely aware of his own mortality unlike the other NPCs, and fully cognizant of the fact he can’t be brought back as he is. Yeah…that’d make someone bitter for sure.

So he psychologically torments the other performers because he knows they can’t die, but can go insane - while killing indiscriminately any NPCs he can because he knows they can die, and he won’t face any consequences for it. He’s this twisted death spiral of a being who finds his own existence an agonizing paradox and takes that pain out on the people around him for all eternity basically - finding disappointment in being unable to act out these pent-up emotions [TADC ep 2: 20:50] and seeing Kaufmo’s funeral as a painful reminder of an ending he can never have. Or maybe he’s bitter because he knows Kaufmo isn’t really dead in a way that HE can die, and finds personal distaste with the funeral on principle. Frankly, there’s a whole HOST of ways you could interpret this scene at the end of episode two with this framework, and I encourage y’all to find your own!!!!

[skarsjoy]

Watch Alexander Skarsgård star in These New Puritans’ intense new video for ‘A Season In Hell’

From NME:

It marks the latest single from their upcoming album ‘Crooked Wing Of the music video, George Barnett added: “It was great to bring Alexander Skarsgård and Harley Weir together. They’re both old friends of mine, especially Harley who I’ve known since we were teenagers; we share formative tenets and ideas in our work. She makes the familiar strange and the strange familiar.”

He continued: “Skarsgård is a rare artist who can move from something experimental to a blockbuster and back. Everything he does is believable. He is high risk, threw himself into it, every detail in him is controlled. He’s magnetic in an otherworldly way, and that worked so well with what Harley does.

Alexander Skarsgård and These New Puritans. CREDIT: Jeremy Young

ETA

The video starring Alexander Skarsgård for “A Season in Hell” by These New Puritans @thesenewpuritans was finally released today on YouTube after debuting on April 16th at @icalondon.

~video by @harleyweir / starring Alexander Skarsgård

~it features 2 sopranos, 2 church organs, 2 brothers and 200 drums

rom Vogue.com: First things first: How exactly did they get the award-winning Swedish actor to participate in the freaky, deliberately lo-fi visual, in which he runs across a gloomy, sodden field in southeast England and hurls himself into a muddy trench? It turns out that George and Skarsgård are old friends, and the actor is a long-time fan of Weir’s work.

“Over the past few years, I’ve been involved in several dark, dystopian projects,” Skarsgård tells me. “Of late, I’ve been feeling a growing desire for a palate cleanser—to do something light and fluffy that would be fun for the whole family to watch. Nothing screams ‘light and fluffy’ more than Harley Weir and These New Puritans, so I didn’t hesitate to jump aboard when this project sailed into my harbor.”

For George, it was a revelation to see his friend throw himself—both physically and emotionally—into the project so fiercely. “He is absolutely incredible in front of a camera, isn’t he, Harley? On set, I couldn’t believe it,” George says, with a touch of awe.

“It was amazing,” Weir says. “He really performed. He was, like, ‘I need more mud on my face.’ He wasn’t precious at all. I mean, he actually, genuinely threw himself into a grave. I was, like, ‘Oh, my God, I’ve killed Alexander Skarsgård. What am I going to do?’”

George emphasizes that it was all real—no stunt doubles here—before beginning to describe the process Weir used to achieve the video’s rich texture…until she cuts him off. “Don’t give away my tricks, George!” she says, laughing.

[bittysteam]

Hey guys I was slowing down the intermission time part in the latest episode of the digital circus and noticed this in the reflection of caines eyes and at first I was going to write it off was added highlights until i noticed there is something that looks like a cable cord in the reflection of his left eye? Like he's like at a tv camera? Am I crazy is it just one of those behind the camera tricks or is this something that could be legit?

Like it looks like flourescent lights in his eyes

[bee-nutauthor]

Dimitrescu Sisters If they were Content Creators Headcanon (for fun)

Bela Dimitrescu

-The most wholesome, mom-esque content ever

-Will give you good life advice, whether it be shopping tips on how to get more groceries for less, or tips on how to manage your finances

-Makes cooking videos, sewing videos, make up videos, candle making videos, nail painting vidoes- basically anything to do with crafts and she's probably done it

-Speaks in a calm tone, has mellow music in the background

-Uses very calm colors in her videos, meaning her shirts are in cool tones of blues, grays, whites, and blacks.

-Her backdrop is a clean and organized space- a light wood bookshelf, plain walls, some minimalist flower vases, and a diffuser

-Is very organized with her schedule. Her videos are always up at the same time and day, and she follows a rotating schedule of what topics she will make videos for

-Controversies? None, unless you count the time she roasted a company who wanted her to do a paid promo for actually being toxic and causing them to shut down

-She is affectionately called 'Internet Mom'

-She does not understand the 'sorry, mommy' jokes and does not wish to

-Does not collab with other content creators, which lead to a conspiracy theory whether she actually existed in real life or was a robot

-Is sponsored mostly by clothing brands

Cassandra Dimitrescu

-She is a storytime channel, telling the most outlandish stories ever

-And they're all true. Her life is just like that

-She travels a lot for work so often she'll film travel vlogs or behind the scene vlogs

-Collabs all the time with other content creators

-Always has famous people on her channel

-Does Q and A's

-Her video uploading schedule is not super consistent due to her traveling a lot, and sometimes she'll post several videos in a row and then there will be nothing for a long time

-She has cycled through 5 public relationships within the first three months of her channel

-Has released music videos on her channel and is planning on releasing a full album. She always puts a lot of effort into her sets and costume design. Her singing is amazing as she's classically trained and can do opera too

-Has starred in other content creator's mini series on youtube and always draws the most views in

-Outfits are always changing depending on if she's traveling or making music videos

-Has made a few comedy skits here and there

-Controversies? There is a lot of drama circling around her and who she's hooking up with or who she'll go for next. A few people tried to call out her melodramatic behavior and instead of making an apology video Cassandra winked at the camera, sent the viewers a kiss and said "you know you love me like this," and ended the video like that.

-She was right. Her views only skyrocketed after this

-Gets many sponsorships, but donates the money from them to art or dance studios

Daniela Dimitrescu

-A streamer, she streams several hours a day in a row

-She does games mostly, with the occasional video filming her attempt to cook some horrific dish she found on the internet such as the toducken

-Has posted a few videos of herself doing tricks on her skateboard

-Has posted a few videos of her work out routines. Those have millions of views for reasons relating to her crop top and abs

-Has a set up with RGB lights in the back, and a mini fridge full of energy drinks

-Has the latest technology to play games on, but wears the same outfit almost always to her streams: a black tank top, a black hoodie with neon green writing on it, and a pair of headphones with cat ears on top

-Has dyed her hair many times but commonly sticks with her red hair, shaved on one side

-Has tattoos of her favorite video game characters on her arms and legs

-Will stream with other players and has done a handful of collabs but prefers playing single player games

-Rarely sleeps and has done several 24 hour streams for charity

-Controversies? She was accused of cheating when doing a speedrun but it was only the haters claiming she couldn't play

-Sponsored by raid shadow legends and other game companies

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Okay, but consider a secret competition amongst sinners in the hotel to try and get a clear and legible picture of the radio demon.

Bonus if you make it a selfie.

It starts not so subtly, with several pic attempts that were just selfies the others were taking and alastor just so happened to be around. Wink wink etc.

It takes him all of three seconds to work out what they're up to and in the spirit of entertainment, doesnt really try to stop them per say. Not directly... but he's also not going to make it easy for anyone either.

A few attempts are thwarted by his shadowstep ability just before the shutter clicks, other times the distortion seems stronger than anticipated. But he hasnt worked it out yet right? Nah they're being super subtle about it and he's always humming something, distracted.

They up the ante.

Holes in books people nonchalantly read on the couch. Hidden camera in a picture frame.

One person attempting an obvious photo while another tries covertly.

Even attempting to sneak into his room (bad idea) which only cost a finger.

Trying to catch him whilst he's cooking and relaxed but those damn ears always twitch upright and swivel their way. Fucking stupid deer powers!

Putting a phone on a timer in certain halls when he's supposed to do maintenance... or on his way to his room.

Making up issues with plumbing for maintenance reasons in your boobytrapped room. But even mid task, he comes out a pixellated mess.

Charlie even tried to get a pic through a series of well angled mirrors whilst alastor was reading page 146 of her latest ideas for redemption activities with a grin so strained you'd think he was contemplating second death by tickling. But he'd done it. Read the qhole 231 pages. Which definitely should have been soporific enough...

Husk tried to trick him into getting too drunk to maintain the filter... to no avail. It made it stronger.

Niffty tried through the vents. Poppets hauled her back out with admonishing finger wagging.

Vaggie tied her phone to the end of her spear and threatened him... and he laughed. At that point they started to suspect he was onto them.

Nothing worked.

Lucifer, because it was annoying him now, tried snapping a pic through the tower windows from several metres in the air because wings. Vaggie kicked herself for forgetting she could also do that...

"Are you quite done with your little teamwork activity?" Alastor asks one evening, startling a few who hadn't realised he'd known. "Really, it was admirable how creative some of you were but i have been putting up with the picture box's attempts for several decades now... i know when a camera is pointing my way. Their frequency is į̸͇̈ͅr̸̻̈̐̈́̈́r̴̳̞̈̓̓î̷̻̍́̔͐t̴̫̱̻͌ä̴̡͈̯͙̻́̄̓t̴̹̠͎͚͙̒̾̉į̷̨̮̟̲̔́n̴͍̬̍̃̌̊ģ̵͚̼͓̠̑̓̊̿̈́..."

"Can i take a pretty picture with you sir?" Niffty asks.

He considers it as several others start protesting that that didn't count if you asked. Angel's stance was that if bribery was allowed, then he had some things to put on the table...

Alastor gave a long-suffering glare and told the spider not to put anything on the table he didnt want to lose to tomorrow night's stew. Angel retorted that at least he could then say he'd told the big bad radio demon to eat a dick and it would be technically true...

The starlet got pained static warble tha made the lights flicker, and a whack over the ear from a truly disgusted Vaggie for that one.

Alastor ultimately declines Niffty's offer. "Afraid not, my dear."

She stomps her foot. "I'll tell Miss Rosie you're not being fair..."

He laughs, "HAH! Please Do. She'll find it simply hilarious... she's been trying for years to do the same and not yet succeeded despite her best efforts. Quite putout about the whole thing."

"You know I could just nullify your little static field thing with a snap of my fingers, right?" Lucifer points out.

There's a pointed blare of an air raid siren in response.

Through narrowed eyes and clenched teeth, Alastor replied, "Of course you would need to resort to cheating to win, i assumed locating a break in the field was half the challenge... or is that too tall a task for you, your lowness?"

"The fuck did you call me, sinner?!"

"Someone who seems to like the easy way out, is that not accurate?"

"Okay now you've done it, say goodbye to your little radiowaves cause this is a royal timeout!"

"Stop." Charlie commands, freezing the two men in their tracks, one about to snap his fingers and the other manifesting shadow tendrils to try and rip his majesty's face off.

Maybe wearing that would confuse cameras until the king saw sense?

"I'm sorry if we got too competitive and it impacted your privacy, Al. I should have checked you would be okay with this, knowing you've already been dealing with a stalker..." Charlie said, chagrined. "And dad, I should have remembered how competitive you get over these sorts of things. But that's not an excuse. Neither of you have the right to be so rude to each other. Now apologise!"

"I would rather go vegan, my dear. " Alastor drawled, the strained grin easing slightly as the tendrils receeded into his flesh.

"And I'd rather you stay away from my daughter, you manipulative pinstriped fatherfucker, but here we are. " Lucifer spread his arms wide, theatrically, before deflating and rubbing his temples. "So I'm... sorry for threatening to tear your powers away, I didn't like it when heaven tried that with me. But I will get that picture. There has to be a way."

Alastor's expression flitted from fury to intrigue and then a general neutrality. "Well, if you can be cordial... so can I, I suppose. For Charlotte. I apologise for intending to rip your face off." He sees the blanche on Charlotte's face.

"Ah, I believe my apology was supposed to be around persistently mocking your stature, your tiny-but-mightiness. Apologies, then... but if it will soothe any hurt feelings I will tell you all a secret... there is at least one time when my distortion is not active. Two, if you count being dead, ha hah!" He pointedly ignored Charlie's flinch at his statement. "However I must stress that neither instance involves sleeping or bathing so do please understand that any further attempts to enter my rooms unbidden will be met with harsh penalties."

"Awww..." Angel pouts, then waggles his eyebrows. "I got an idea how to catch you offguard, radio daddy..."

There was a loud audience booing sound from the cane. "No, thank you. Now if that is all, I have a broadcast this evening to prepare for... hmmm?"

Alastor left in a cascade of shadows.

"Do you think he meant when he was broadcasting? Maybe when his signal is already bouncing across the rings, the distortion goes quiet?" Husk says.

"You mean Pride ring only, right? None of these overlords should have the power to reach other rings." Lucifer frowns.

"If you got tv or radio down there in the other rings, that's on vox and alastor. They're the source of it for some reason... apart from my collar, the fact that the phones and radios still worked while he was gone was a good indicator of him still being alive. Otherwise it'd be dead air. Vox can't push his tv as strongly without the ambient support, not with how vast his network is nowadays." Husk shrugs.

"Thats not how sinners are designed to work, how did that even happen? I would have noticed."

"Maybe its not strong enough to catch your attention when you're hyperfocused on other projects?" Charlie offered.

"Maybe. Alright, I actually have to go stop your Aunties in Envy from rampaging, duckling, but I'll be back by dinner. If not, send Vaggie and her spear, I might need the backup." Lucifer smiled, clapping his hands and summoning a portal to a very blue looking place.

If he left it for a few seconds longer to let the sinners see what another ring looked like, who could fault him?

----

Alastor switched out the record and returned to this evening's topic of discussion... Dismemberment: the right tools for your (or their) bodytype. He allowed his larger self to slip the confines of the soul-ly physical and expand out into the radio waves. Much like with his shadows, he could exist as something intangible but definitely alive and aware.

The soothing sensation was ruined by the flicker of several cameras going off around his body, snapping him back like a rubber band. Someone would get eaten for this at the next music break.

He continued the light hearted patter about ensuring you had a hacksaw the same length as your arm and no more to disjoint, because too large and you'd end up tired before you got through the first joint! Too short and it would add hours onto the task.

In the background, several people screamed as shadow tendrils pulled them from the ceiling, vents, in the record cupboard and under his writing desk to toss them out of the recording booth.

The tendrils jabbed pointedly at the On Air sign before retreating.

There were groans of disappointment when several photos were checked and found to have nothing of note to report.

Really... he'd outright told them as much!

Well, seems he may have to try showering at Rosie's tonight if no one was willing to behave. The indignity of being known...

Out the window he spied a number of drones gathering. Hmmm, the television was being bothersome... perhaps a stroll would be in order?

---

Attempting an aerial shot whilst the sinner was distracted in conversation admidst town didn't work out how Vaggie had hoped. She texted the messy attempt to Charlie with a sad emoji face.

The smug fucker then grinned right up at her! The audacity!

She did have to glide through several obnoxious whirring things on the way back to the hotel that removed a few feathers much to her chagrin. Well, at least they needed a preening anyway and Charlie liked the task...

---

Tremors were the first warning that something had gone wrong.

Angel bursting through the front doors calling out that there was an Overlord battle a few blocks over, was the second. He'd been halfway to the hotel, after Val had called him in for a quick fuck and to try on a new little number that Velvette had whipped up for the next club night, when power had shorted out in every direction.

Explosive lightning and laughter echoed around the place, and he (like any sinner with half a braincell to their name) skedaddled to safety. You did NOT wanna get between the bigwigs throwing down.

Pink smoke had begun to flood the area, and he'd vaguely wondered if Valentino and Vox were havving a public breakup again. It happened a few times a year... but they didn't normally get this out of hand.

Speaking of...

There was a wet spine-rattling thud as a large purple arm crunched into the ground outside, destroying part of the driveway. Vaggie swore in frustration, Charlie reminded her that her dad could fix this in a snap, it'd be fine!

There's a rather animalistic roar, and then a too-familiar static shriek, and a rending bone sound that was far too visceral for anyone's mental health as another arm was half ripped off the gargantuan moth overlord.

Vox intersecting Alastor by blasting him with concentrated electricity to drive the Radio Demon from his partner. Allowing Valentino to grab hold of an extended antler and tear it off with several of his hands.

He lost a chunk of flesh for that, but loudly taunted Alastor over this little victory. Buildings were annihilated as wings spread, only for them to fall into shreds as a massive pale creature of too many teeth and voidless eyes enlarged into the battle.

"Is that... Rosie?" Charlie felt her jaw fall open at the revelation.

Niffty was giggling beside her, and patted her hand kindly. "She's really REALLY good at biting when she gets all big!"

"Er... I can see that..." she murmurs back, seeing the way half of Vox's massive screen was shattered into cracked, bleeding lines by her primary jaws. Talons grappling at the moth's wings.

Quite the multitasker.

Alastor's own assualt on the moth pivoted to Vox, as the television clearly readied a charge for Rosie. Tendrils hurled the overlord away and into a nearby 'parkland' (that sinners rarely attended because if the plants didn't kill you, the animals would eat you alive). Several angry fire-breathing ducks set parts of his coat abalze for disturbing their nesting area.

The pair grappled at one another, tearing bloody gouges, blasting static in a way that seemed painful, and using their powers to shred the other. As Rosie circled Valentino, or what was left of him, and deftly tore pieces apart. Without his guns, and when his size didn't give an advantage... he wasn't the best fighter.

Rosie would shred his tongue if he tried to dose her with his venom, and the smoke didn't do much for them at their size. A mild calming effect at best. Probably for the best, who wants an overlord suddenly desperate for stimulation raising your insurance premiums in a way that would have the imp on the other end of the phoneline howling with laughter at the reason for your claim?

In any case, it's a mess over there.

Vox finally seems to be unable to fight back and there's a moment where it looks like Alastor might just kill the man... when Valentino manages to knock Rosie right into the Radio Demon, sending both into a barely-standing office block.

Valentino, what's left of him, maintains a protective stance over Vox, who is starting to lose size. The cannibals grin, acting rather like possessed dolls as they unhinge their jaws and launch forwards, tearing chunks off the nearest wings.

He claws back, violently, and bites at them. Not with the finesse of others, but enough to disorient as some small faction of his spit hits their bloodstreams. Not enough, not when they're titanic in size... but enough to give them a split second's pause as the world tilts slightly, and he jams a claw into Rosie's abdomen.

She snarls, her teeth clacking on bone as she bites at what she can reach. Alastor bites the moth's throat, hard, an audible crunch of windpipe is heard even as Valentino's scrabbling gouges out an eye.

Vaggie has to turn away or throw up, trapped in her own head.

A cry of outrage as the whole powergrid goes dark and a semi-recovered Vox unleashes it at his adversaries, sending the pair reeling. The barely-alive remains of Valentino disappear as he shrinks, a tattered almost-corpse whose flesh sits between painfully clenched teeth as the enlarged overlords are turned into conduits for everything pentagram city has to offer.

"What the fuck did I just portal back to?" Lucifer breaks in, startling more than a few of the horrified spectators.

"I don't... know. One minute we were in here and then Valentino's arm landed outside and... this." Charlie murmurs, bewildered and worried as she sees the two overlords she actually likes start to smoke, char and even catch fire from the sustained charge. "Can we do something? Can we interfere or does that put them at greater risk?"

"We can't. If someone challenges an overlord they can't really turn it down without losing their status, or their life. Part of the whole schtick I really hated most. One minute you're having breakfast, next some whacky motherfucker with a disco theme and some sort of ice powers comes bursting into your house demanding to fight. You just gotta." Husk replied, watching the whole shitshow with a detachment born of too many years of exactly this mess. "I think it'll turn around though."

"And Rosie won't get in trouble for interfering? Or, does that mess with Al's status?"

"Nah, if it's 2 on 1, you can call on an ally to fight them. Or take them on yourself if you're strong enough. I've fought alongside Al more than once, when another triad or duo or whatever upstart overlord group decides to take him on without any notice. Pentious wasn't the most powerful up and comer, but he was usually pretty polite about his attacks; if you let him know you really couldn't do a battle right this instant, he was always open to scheduling one in for later. Think that's why Al never really hurt him, when he could've. You don't punch down and all."

"Oh please, that guy would punch babies if he had half a chance..." snarked Lucifer, automatically.

Husk snorted, but rolled his eyes. "Actually, your majesty, you touch a kid wrong around him or rosie there and they'll turn you inside out. It's fascinating in a way that ruins any chance you'll ever have of sleeping again without seeing it behind your eyelids."

But Rosie and Alastor are moving against the current, and it must surely end soon. The power substations and relays were already exploding all over the city from such a massive drain.

Vox was snatched up and held aloft in a shadow tendril that seemed to glitch a little too hard for cosmetic effect. Rosie delicately snagged up a purple and red thing that must be Valentino.

Whatever they were saying, was lost... but voices grew angry, then frustrated, then petulant... and finally, something blue and lust pink passed from the defeated to the other overlords. Reparations, one would assume.

Almost courteously, Rosie and Alastor then carefully returned Vox and Valentino to a semi-destroyed floor of Vee Tower. Where a rather infuriated Velvette was standing, looking ready to tear everyone involved apart.

Rosie made pleasantries with the younger overlord, and then nodded. The pair moving away from the tower as they began to shrink, shadows overtaking them from the ground up.

"Incoming." Husk warned.

A writhing black pool of shadow coalesced behind them all, inside the lobby and just enough away from the doors as to be hard to see from outside. It spread and shrank, like a too-slow heartbeat.

Eventually disgorging two pale, worse-for-wear overlords flat on the floor in a mix of blood and viscera. Neither appeared conscious, not properly, at any rate.

"Oh shit... how do we even fix this?! Can we...? Niffty, can you get the first aid kit? Ohgosh I can't remember the last time I went to aunty bel's triage training course!" Charlie began to panic.

Vaggie was at a loss. Exterminators didn't GET hurt, at least so they believed, so this was... well, shit, she didn't know what to do?

Husk and Niffty were already in the thick of it before anyone except mabe Angel snapped out of the momentary surprise. The starlet used a disinfectant by the kit and then got stuck in, he'd seen weirder shit when he was in the Family and you couldn't duck off to a doctor, not to mention what they did to the snitches. And of course, you got good at fixing yourself and others up under Val...

He compresses where husk tells him to, all six hands needed for this endeavour. Heh, Angel was gonna be able to brag he'd played a fucked up game of twister with two overlords and be telling the absolute truth. Niffty was wiping at blood with her cloths and dousing anything she could reach in antiseptic. Angel winced and thanked everything these guys seemed utterly out of it.

There was a very pointed whirring click, almost too quiet to notice... but it caught everyone's attention. Lucifer was staring at his phone screen, eyebrow raised.

"He didn't lie... looks like there's one specific situation where the distortion doesn' work." The king explained, fascinated, and honestly a bit perturbed. "Was he expecting one of us to fight him to find out or what? Maybe he does need like, hug therapy or something, Char Char."

"Can you delete that as fast as possible, your majesty? I dunno if he's conscious but Vox is kinda connected to all phones and devices from Voxtech... and if he saw this, well,it'd be all over Pride in the hour. And then we wouldn't be able to keep sinners from trying their luck on rising to Sovereign real fucking fast." Husk said, putting a patch over empty eye sockets so there was at least something keeping out infection until everything reformed.

"He... what? Wouldn't they go after the tv and the moth first?" Lucifer frowned. None of this made sense.

"Yes, and no. See Vox and Val have a lot of airtight contracts keeping them safe in their tower and territory, there's also Velvette who's a goddamn nightmare when she fights. Not to mention, if the two overlords they fought left 'em alive, then a small piece of their protection extends to the spared overlord until they're healed. Or at least mobile. Because to hurt them would be to defy what Al and Rosie wanted by keeping 'em alive, right? It's all politics and backstabbing nonsense." Husk rambled, watching Niffty sew up some rather deep lacerations from the muscle up.

"That's ridiculous."

"That's keeping every one of 'em safe right now."

"Okay, I deleted the picture and emptied my bin. Did you need me to ward it or something?"

"Should be okay. It's YOUR phone after all. Any of us did it, Vox'd know immediately... also yeah, he's probably seen your nudes, so you have to move through the stages of grief on that one on your own. It's not a sex thing, he just values information and turns it into targeted ads. Wasn't nearly as twisted before he joined the Vees."

"That's... not comforting. At all."

"Never said it was. Hey, can you like, heal people? Even enough to give these two a jumpstart? I saw they ate some of Val and Vox, and got some souls in their bargaining, but it might not be enough to fix them given how little blood is on the inside right now."

"He's right, Short King, there's more in the carpet based on ow weak everyone's pulses are. Wonder what the fuck triggered a fight like that?" Angel adds, whistling and trying for flippancy despite the internal panic. This was bad. Like, these two hurt was bad, yeah, but Val being hurt that bad was Real Bad and it was public too... he was going to reduce the studio workers to bloody messes when he got back together.

"...hrrkkkk..." chattered the staff, startling more than a few as Lucifer deigned to ruining his white trousers by kneeling next to Rosie. His hands glowed, and something passed from himself to her, sealing a few of the more superficial wounds and lessing the severity of others. The rest was up to her, of course... but it helped.

Angel felt his chain manifest, and his heart leapt into his throat... until he noticed it trained down to a point on the floor between the downed overlords. It was an odd mishmash of green and a dusky pink that suited Rosie well.

"...renegotiated some assets in the ceasefire..."

Lucifer was reluctantly it must be admitted, holding glowing hands over Alastor with less than stellar enthusiasm. Still, whatever he was doing seemed to have aimed right for the eye socket because that fleshed out quickly enough.

"You two got my contract? From Val? Why? What? I mean, I don't do chicks unless I get paid double, but for this I'm willing to give a discount..." he laughed, semi-hysterical. Which only increased as the chain shattered. His heart was thundering. "What the fuck...?"

The bodies under the hands of so many were shuddering back to life. Clearly more mentally aware than physically at the moment, but that was rapidly changing as the moments wore on.

"...if someone wouldn't mind... getting me a bloody mary... I rather need to flush the taste of... insect from my mouth..." Rosie quips stiltedly, sitting up. "It's like those chalky candies, if they also had a hint of grasshopper. And those wings! I'd rather dust my house with my tongue than do that again."

Husk grumblingly went to grab one now the immediacy of the moment had passed.

"Hmmm, this... feels too much like we're surrounded by bleeding hearts, Rosie dear... so I'm going to hazard a guess we didn't rematerialise anywhere near Susan." Alastor said, sititng up and opening the functional eye warily. "Ah, blast. Do-Gooders. I think I can get us to your emporium if you give me a moment..."

"Noooooo no! Please don't go anywhere you're safe here!" Charlie interjects, having found her voice again as things progressed. "I mean, I'm angry about whatever that was out there and we will be talking about it, but... you're safe here, and I can't believe you managed to free Angel somehow, but there was so much blood so I need you to stop trying to get up or I'm going to have a panic attack!"

"This is, literally, nowhere near the worst thing that has ever happened to either of us, Charlotte dear. Don't worry your pretty head over it." Rosie assured, checking on the tattered state of her attire. "Well, this won't do..." She snaps a new outfit for herself.

Alastor glances down at his own and the ever-present smile is tight. "Ah, yes... one moment, it's quite improper to be seen in such a state of undress." His clothes mend easily over the bandages and fading scars thereunder.

Husk courteously hands Rosie her drink and after a moment of lashing his tail, gave Alastor his preferred Rye. He then had to grab them before either overlord could down them in one gulp, because suddenly Angel was a trembling mess in their arms. Or rather, they were trapped in all six of his.

Rosie reacted with a soothing tone and gentle patting. Alastor appeared to be frozen, like a buffering webpage, before relaxing enough to pat the sobbing creature on the back.

"Oh sugar, I'm pleased our negotiations got you out of that bind but it wasn't just you. All Valentino's stars and a few of the more annoyingly important members of Vox's staff are ours now, to free or renegotiate terms with in whatever way we see fit." She leans in close to share a stage whisper. "We just set you free first 'cause Als fond of you. that's all."

"Don't go giving him ideas, Rosie, he keeps making sexual offers at me as it is." Alastor's tone is mildly strained at that, and she laughs at him. "Oh? Should I perhaps go and tell Rosie you suddenly want to spend time discussing her concerns for town each Tuesday at noon?"

Rosie gasped. "You wouldn't dare, I'd tear you limb from limb!"

"Oh I would, now stop encouraging this emotional... whatever this is and do your soothing thing so he'll let go."

"Pfft, Angel Dust would you mind releasing us? I know you're thinking through a lot in that head of yours but if you show too much affection in Al's direction, he may catch fire. Or, worse, he'll set susan on me." Rosie cajoles, until Angel feels able to transition over to the waiting arms of husk.

"I'm also kinda worried about what Val's gonna do when he reforms... normally if he loses something, or gets caught in public, he takes it out on his contracts." Angel admits. "Sometimes he has bits of you torn off for more fucked up videos, and sometimes he just fuck ya til... til you gotta reform. He can get through a whole studio when he's in a rage."

"Never you mind that, he agreed to our renegotiation and now all the contracts have to be approved through us. New and old, and the first thing we demanded was an enthusiastic consent clause, any attempt to void it will breach contract and we will be forced to eat the fool."

"With the right spices, I'm sure we can bear the indignity." Alastor commisserates.

Charlie squeaks in delight. "Are you saying Valentino can't hurt anyone anymore? His souls?"

"Not unless they give consent, and only until they say stop or revoke it in some way." Alastor shrugs, already mentally thumbing through his cookbooks for the right recipe for the moth. Let's be real, he won't last a week without trying something, and then it will be insect for dinner.

"What started this off?" Vaggie asked, suspicious gaze on Alastor.

"Oh, you will love this Vagatha..." he pauses for dramatic effect. "You did! All of you with your little camera game trying to take a photo, it somehow sent Vox into quite the spiral of jealous rage, and he tried to use drones to 'win'. When that failed, the fool confronted me as I was out on a leisurely walk with Rosie..."

"Right through the entertainment district, huh? What a strange route to take from the hotel to cannibal town." Husk quips at them, not falling for their shit for a moment.

"Indeed, how strange that Vox and his paramour waylaid us as we accidentally moved through their territory." Alastor shrugged, and stiffened as that pulled at more than a few stitches. "Ah well, mistakes were made... like those idiots assuming they could confront us and not be dealt with accordingly! Ha-HAH!"

"Are they going to hurt the hotel?" Lucifer jumps in, glaring at the overlords.

"No, and any anger will be aimed directly at Rosie and myself.The residents are safe..." Alastor replied.

Rosie claps her hands, "Oh in all the excitement I forgot that Vox was forced to promise that any reporting he completes on the hotel or associated residents will be neutral at the least, unless he wants to face reprisal. He was quite put out."

They laugh again, the sound as jovial as it was exhausted.

Charlie seemed to be dealing with a whirring mind. "Wait, that's ah-mayyyyy-zing! But... this was our fault? The game triggered all of..." she gestures at the blood and chaos before her, "THIS?!"

Husk returned the glasses, and both overlords swigged it down to chase away lingering bad tastes. The feline watched them, but merely took the glasses withour an offer to refill. he's not handling drunken, injured overlords whose tolerance was as low right now as their percentage of blood inside their bodies.

"Don't worry about it, dear. Vox would have found any reason at all to confront me, that's just how he is. Have you concluded your game yet, though? I would assume at least one of you has worked out that the distortion field is nullified by circumstances wherein the power is required to heal or manage damage. Hmm? I would..." he paused like the word was acidic, 'trust... that you will not be sharing that with Vox? He would devote his afterlife to ensuring I could never block his view again, the perverted voyeur."

"Of course we won't!" Charlie assures.

"I might, if you keep making short jokes." Lucifer says, just to be contrary.

"Now Alastor are you treating a man of his majesty's stature with anything less than respect? He's going to get short with you." Rosie deadpanned, not quite stiffling her laughter.

Lucifer dragged a hand down his face. "Oh Father, there's two of you..."

He was just preparing to send them to sleep for a little healing nap, and to stop them from mocking him again but that was definitely not the main focus here. Of course not.

When Rosie frowned and put a hand to her temple, swaying into an equally confused Alastor. He was glaring at the bartender... but only momentarily as the pair ffell bonelessly onto the floor again. Dazed and blinking slowly a few more times before succumbing to sleep.

Lucifer grinned at the cat. "You dosed them in their drinks? Devious."

"You ain't never had to deal with how infuriatingly peppy those two get when healing, all manic energy until they collapse in the middle of some important task and things go to shit. Easier to let them sleep it off and regain a bit of power first. Can't recall the last time I had to do that... think I used something in a sinner meat sandwich then, though."

"Alright, can we at least get them somewhere comfortable and safe? I don't like that they're laying back in their own blood again..." Charlie interjects. She has an expression on her face that said she was going to Talk to husk very shortly about drink spiking, even if it was necessary.

Angel, still shuddering with aftershocks of relief and fear and just general Holy Shit I'm Free, bends to collect up the Radio Demon as Lucifer deftly carries Rosie into the staff-only lounge area to set them down.

"What?" Lucifer says, when a few people glance at him in surprise. "Char Char, your mother is taller than Rosie, and I managed to carry her around for millennia with no issue... heck, I could carry both of them if I wanted to. now let's get them clean so we don't ruin the upholstery..."

With a snap the newly conjured clothes and sinner's flesh is wiped free of all traces of grime. Only scars, bandages and bruises remain. Rapidly healing before their eyes.

"Niffty, can you fix the stain by the door?" Niffty?" Vaggie looks all over and the maid is just Gone.

So is the stain.

"How did she do that?" the ex-orcist shuddered.

"That's my secret!" comes a barely-sane sing-song tone from the wall to her left, making Vaggie startle. "I cleaned it real good!"

"That you did, kiddo." Husk agreed, unaffected by the horror movie style situation. "Now come outta there so you can take a nap with Al and Rosie, I know you wanna."

"I can?" she gasps and pops out, heading right for the couches the pair were draped upon. She seemed at a loss, but ultimately picked up Alastor's staff and curled up on Rosie, falling fast asleep with her eye wide open.

"That's terrifying and cute. What the fuck is wrong with me that I think that's sorta sweet?" Vaggie murmured.

"So, you get to sleep on Smiles, or can I take one for the team?" Angel nudges Husk in the side and grins.

Husk rolls his eyes. "If you wanna get eaten, sure. I mean, he'd let me, s'long as I purr at some point, but like niffty I wouldn't go putting pressure on those chest wounds til they healed."

Angel's mouth was open. "He what?! Is it a pressure thing? Cause I am very good at playing weighted blanket... and also, go back to the part where you purr?"

"Let's not. And let's be real, if we need something about Niffty sized, his majesty would be the ideal sacrificial... goat or serpent, I guess."

Charlie seemed to adopt a puzzled, musing expression there as if trying to picture it. Vaggie was clearly doing so and her expression was both amused... and haunted.

Husk grinned maliciously at the King, who was spluttering in horror back at the cat. "I mean, if you want to get technical... sure. But the fight they'd have on Al realising it wasn't Niffty wearing a weird hat for some reason, would be legendary. The hotel might not survive."

"I could get behind that..." Angel murmured, picturing something no one wanted to ask about in detail. "I could get Fat Nuggets though, if you think it'd help?"

"...actually, I think someone volunteered already." Husk replied, amused as KeeKee took the chance to sit on the ever-warm Radio Demon. he only ever pet her in private, of course because the Big Bad Reputation might take a hit if he's seen being kind to animals and not punching crying babies or something.

"Okay, I know he'd hate it, but I really wanna take a photo right now..." Charlie groaned, frustrated at the impulse but t was soooo cute and her drawings never came out quite right.

"And start this mess all over again? No thanks. I've had enough of an emotional rollercoaster today!" Angel jokes back, collpasing into an armchair and only vaguely eyeing the drink husk brings him with suspicion. "Reckon I need someone to sit in my lap and purr for me, yeah?"

He nearly drops the drink when Husk does. In full loaf form.

Alastor's cane crackled to life. "Get the picture. You may never get another chance, my dear!"

Charlie frantically takes a number of rapid-fire shots of the rather serious looking Husker and the truly blessed and slightly dazed Angel Dust.

"Char-Char, today has been ridiculous, I think we should all sit down for an hour and just relax. Sound good?" Lucifer offers, conjuring more plush furniture as his daughter and her girlfriend sink into the softness of a couch. He wiggles between them and wraps his wings around the pair, drawing them in.

"That looks cozy as fuck, I'd be jealous if I didn't have a lapful of gorgeous man." Angel mumbles, half-asleep already. Lucifer realised the rest of them were still a mess and snaps away the remaining blood and grime. "Thanks short king, lemma suck ya-..." it trails off into a soft snore.

"Phew, that could have been weird." Lucifer mumbled, feeling Charlie rest her head on his shoulder and snuggle close. Vaggie tried, but was somewhat stiffer, until he made a rather pointed soft trill that angels shared when roosting with one another. And she settled instantly.

"Okay, maybe sinners aren't all bad... even if they do insane shit that turns out altruistic in the end." He murmurs, looking at the two overlords, who stirred lightly but settled easily enough when Niffty and KeeKee redistributed their weight accordingly.

"...high praise... from a not-too-terrible father..." crackles the cane.

It makes Lucifer laugh, rather than furious. "Oh, coming from you Captain daddy issues?"

Angel murmurs something suspiciously like "...c'n be ya daddy...' before his head lolls.

Lucifer can't contain the snort. "Alright, will you actually go to sleep if I put on one of your radios?"

"...deal, your Majesty."

With a snap, something slow and soft fills the air, coercing the last few eyes to close after such an oddly eventful afternoon. At least it was never boring around here.

---

End

Random idea i had, not meant to be THIS LONG, couldnt work out how to end it, its 1am fml

[suzayaaa]

KITTY CHRISTMAS - 재민

pairing: jaemin x reader

wordcount: 1.3k

themes: fluff, established relationship

warnings: mentions of food

suza’s note: merry early christmas!!!

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“All I want for Christmas…”

“Is you,” Jaemin wraps his warm hands around your waist as he finishes the song lyrics. You smile at him through the reflection in the mirror, a gesture he reciprocates easily.

You’ve always loved the atmosphere of Christmas. With the snow everywhere, people running around with shopping bags, Christmas commercials all around the city, and everything decorated in greens and reds and different lights, the excitement in you is thrilling—and it’s even better since you started dating Jaemin.

For the past three years, you spent this special time with him. He’s always loved to make you feel adored, and a part of his love included gifts. This time is a little different, not only because it’s the first Christmas you spend after moving in together, but also because this year you decided to surprise yourself, contrary to the previous years when you told each other what type of gifts you wanted to receive.

“Are you ready, baby?” He turns you around so you’re facing him and adjusts the necklace you just put on, the one he gave you exactly a year ago.

You hum a small ‘yes’ as he takes your hand and leads you through the decorated apartment to a prepared table.

You both sit, surrounded by the strong smell of various foods and burning candles, and start eating. Your eyes widen at your own cooking skills when you feel the perfectly seasoned meat melt in your mouth. As you eat, you and Jaemin catch up on the latest news in your lives, tell each other stories, and enthuse about all the different things until your boyfriend notices you eagerly eyeing the Christmas tree. You make eye contact once you feel his eyes on you a little longer than usual, a smirk on his face telling you he is as ready as you.

You run up in tiny steps to the decorated tree and sit on your ankles in front of it, Jaemin props himself next to you. You giggle quietly, excited to finally move on to your favorite part of the holiday.

Your hand gestures to the gifts under the tree and you look at Jaemin with an elated smile, “Go first.”

He whispers an ‘okay’ as you hand him a box wrapped in red Christmas paper with graphic fairy lights as a design. He rips the paper, dragging the act for as long as he can with a playful smirk on his face that only makes your excitement grow. Your eyes follow his hands as the box reveals itself painfully slowly.

“Oh my god, come on!” You groan when tapping your nails on the cold floor isn’t enough to ease your impatience anymore. Jaemin lets out an evil laugh, like a cartoon character, and rips the paper with one motion.

His eyes light up when he opens the box and sees a brand-new camera wrapped in bubble wrap, the one he had been talking about for weeks, if not months. He looks up at you with a bright smile and pecks your lips, saying, “Thank you”.

You watch him unwrap the new device from the protection, popping some of the bubbles, as he curiously inspects it, telling you to pose, already taking the very first photo. You blush, wanting to see the result.

As your boyfriend points out all of the new features his previous camera didn’t have, your attention gets stolen by the other boxes under the tree, particularly three boxes tied with silver ribbons. You tell yourself it’s just your mind playing tricks on you, or maybe the Christmas lights from the tree mess with your vision, but no. Your mouth falls open when you realize the boxes are moving.

You look between the boxes and a beaming Jaemin in terror. Your hand anxiously reaches for his arm so he can finally look at you, and when he does, you point at the alive gifts with a question mark on your face.

“Babe, why are the…”

“Oh!” His eyebrows shoot up once he realizes what you’re talking about. He puts the camera aside, “These are yours, angel. Don’t be scared, open them.”

His words scare you even more.

You stiffly stretch your hand out and cut the ribbons with the scissors you grabbed beforehand. After you put the silver fabric and scissors away, you take another look at Jaemin who is clearly having much more fun than you.

Your boyfriend nods at the boxes with his head with an inviting smile. Deciding it’s better to do it right away, you take a deep breath before you pull one of them closer to yourself and yank the cover away.

“Holy shit,” your eyes widen, this time not from terror, and a smile creeps up to your face, widening with each second until your lips physically can’t stretch anymore.

A pair of big black eyes stare right at you from the box, making you completely melt on the spot. You take the fluff ball into your hands as you look between your boyfriend and the cat, trying to form any words.

“Open the other gifts,” Jaemin says, leaning towards you.

Your head snaps to the other boxes. You move the kitten to your right arm and hold it there, your left hand immediately ripping one of the ties away. A gasp leaves your hanging mouth when you see another kitten, this one lying comfortably, maybe even asleep. Stuck in a daze, you do the same to the last box—the sight welcomes you for the third time.

“Oh my god,” you breathe as you take the kittens out of the boxes, letting the first one happily join them on the floor. You look at a beaming Jaemin, not realizing how your hands gesture in confusion.

“You said you’ve always wanted a pet, but your parents never allowed it,” he explains calmly, observing the kittens teaming up in exploring the room, “now we live together, so I thought this might be the time.”

Your heart beats a little louder at his thoughtfulness. You wrap your hands around his neck with a grin, almost squeezing the life out of him when you pull him into your arms. He hugs you back, breathing in the scent of your favorite perfume, and listens to the endless thank yous you mumble into his shoulder.

You pull away, wanting to see your new family members again, and coo at the sight of them wrapped in curtains at the other end of the living room. “Do they have names yet?” You ask, but your attention stays on the kittens.

“No, not yet.”

You hum, bringing your hand to your chin, as you inspect the cats’ faces and patterns on their fur, trying out different names in your head. Your eyebrows shoot up and you lift your finger in the air when a certain idea clicks in.

“I know!” You take another look at the cats, finalizing your choice, “Luna, Luke, and Lucy.”

You turn to Jaemin for approval which he expresses by a pleased look on his face. “I love it,” he says, reaching for his Christmas gift.

He stands up, walks over to the kittens exploring the corners of your shared apartment, and crouches next to them to take a couple of photos. He then reviews them with a smile, and goes back to you, reaching for your hand to help you stand up.

He places his hand on your cheek and kisses you sweetly. You wrap your arms around his waist, wanting to step closer, but jump away with a scream when you feel something scratchy at your feet. You look down to see the three companions around Jaemin, and a mini mistletoe you put on a coffee table a couple of days ago. You both laugh to yourself as you take the decoration from them, facing your boyfriend again.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Jaemin says with a smile as another peck lands on your lips.

You wrap your hands around his neck, grinning happily, “Merry Christmas.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[moonleeai]

Journey Back to You

·𖥸·Fashion Photographer! Jin x Fashion Model! Reader  ·𖥸·AU: Childhood friends to lovers | FLUFF ·𖥸·Rating: PG ·𖥸·WC: 5460

Story written for Sara - Heathfritillary - as part of the BangtanWHQ Exchange Event “Sweet Tricks & Wicked Treats”

Summary: Bound by an inseparable childhood bond and a shared adoration for fashion, you and an old friend find your lives diverging across continents. Years later, fate intervenes as your paths unexpectedly reconnect at a high-profile fashion show. The dazzling lights of the runway become a backdrop for your reunion, igniting a nostalgic journey through shared dreams and forgotten memories. What will become of this rekindled connection?

Thank you Lucy @lo1k-diamonds and Jasz @downbad4yoongi for beta reading! 

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·​​· ·

Strolling along the River Seine, the water shimmers under the moon’s glow; you can’t help but sigh in awe, “What a perfect night in beautiful Paris!” The Eiffel Tower stands tall, adorned with twinkling lights, captivating your gaze—beautiful structures of Gothic architecture line the street with elegance and uniformity, illuminated by soft moonbeams.

A cool breeze carries the scent of garlic and aged wine as you feel the uneven cobblestone under your feet. The towering, half-timbered buildings on either side seem to lean in, creating an intimate, almost secretive atmosphere. Gas lamps cast an ethereal glow, painting the street in soft, golden hues. Tonight’s fashion show theme–Beneath the Eiffel's Glow–showcases the magic of Paris under the moon’s tender embrace at the foot of the Iron Lady.

You confidently approach the check-in area, where the production team organizes models, designers, and staff. Velvet ropes line the entrance, and security personnel stand guard checking credentials. The assistant recognizes you and checks off your name, greeting you warmly and handing you a pass for backstage access. 

Backstage, crew members hurry by with headsets on, and stylists rush to prepare for the show. The models move with practiced ease through the chaos, making their way toward the dressing room. You’re met by the designer’s team, who usher you to your fitting area. Garments hang meticulously on racks, shimmering under the soft lights.

You inspect the outfit you’ll be wearing—a dress with a plunging neckline cascading in bold, voluminous layers of black tulle, its dramatic silhouette broken by vibrant splashes of magenta and teal. The colors clash yet harmonize with unapologetic flair. 

As you get dressed, you admire how the outfit commands attention, a statement of daring elegance and rebellion against the ordinary. Then you take a moment to prepare mentally– calm and collected– ready to transform the moment when all eyes will be on you.

With your chestnut hair cascading down your back, you adjust the diamond-studded choker resting on your neck and strut down the sidewalk-turned runway for the latest luxury fashion brand. Striking a pose at the end for the photographers, a face sticks out, and as your eyes lock, your heart jumps. 

Kim Seokjin, tall and brooding, stands with his camera pulled away from his face. His obsidian eyes held a hint of surprise as he recognized you. Childhood summers spent chasing fireflies in a small French village flooded back. Countless trips to this same Eiffel Tower, where you played while parents had meetings and business lunches. Jin has become a renowned photographer, capturing beauty through his lens, and you, a sought-after model, gracing magazine covers and billboards.

You regain your composure and finish the show, keeping an eye on Kim Seokjin. When everything is over, you don’t even bother to change, running off with the last outfit you modeled. Weaving through the masses of people, you hear a distinct laugh and let it pull you toward him. You stand just a few inches from Seokjin with a soft smile on your lips, eyes shimmering like the diamonds around your neck.

Jin whispers your name, his voice a velvet caress that sends shivers down your spine. “It really is you.” In his memory, you were an adolescent with hair like a wildflower meadow, always returning from your adventures with nature's offerings caught in its tangles. 

Your laughter fills the air, tinkling like wind chimes. “Shut up!?” Your laughter echoes through the air as you embrace Jin. His arms wrap around you tightly, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart against your chest. Laughter and chatter slowly die down, and the once-noisy crowd falls silent as you pull away and focus on him. “Jinnie!? What are you doing here?” 

He gestures to his camera bag. “I chose the photographer path. I travel the world capturing moments, but I never expected to find you here. Modeling at that.”

“Ah, I know, right. I was just doing it to make some money while interning, but,” you shrug your shoulders, “here I am! It’s been so long. I really can’t believe it!” You reach out and touch his arm, gently squeezing as if you’re making sure it’s not a dream. You take in his features, noting how they've matured yet still hold remnants of the boy you used to know. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good, busy with fashion week.” He smiles at you warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Wow… seeing you brings back so many memories. You look stunning, as always.” The way he looks at you makes your heart flutter, and for a moment, it feels like no time has passed since the last time you saw each other. 

“Thank you. And you, you haven’t changed a bit. Still the same Jinnie I remember.”

“What about you?” A fluttering sensation spreads through your stomach as his voice lingers on your name. You can't help but smile and shift on your feet as he waits for your answer.

“I can’t complain. I live here full-time now and love every minute.”

“I guess some things never change. Do you remember those summers we spent exploring every corner of that village? Gosh, what was the name?”

“Chevreuse. How could I forget? Those were some of the best days of my life. I’ve missed you, Jinnie.”

“I missed you too,” your name falls from his lips gracefully. “Life took us in different directions, but it seems the universe had other plans for us tonight.”

A booming voice from a distance snaps you into the present with stylists and security guards rushing toward you. 

“We should catch up properly. Dinner and drinks…twenty minutes? I just need to change.”

“Still as demanding as I remember, too.” Jin smiles, “I’d love that. Dinner under the moonlight in Paris sounds perfect.” 

“Don’t leave! Let me change, and I’ll be right back out to walk with you.” You turn just as the guards reach you, and you raise your hands in surrender. Smiling and apologizing, you hurry to the dressing room to return the collection pieces, changing back into the dress you showed up in.

You step back from the vanity mirror to look at your outfit from multiple angles. A sophisticated yet playful olive green short dress with a tailored bodice accentuating your curves, while the flowing skirt adds a touch of elegance. The neckline is a delicate V-neck, showcasing your bare neck and delicate collarbones. 

To upgrade your look, you pair it with gifts from tonight’s designer—strappy black heels and honey-gold butterfly earrings. The wings are adorned in a cascade of nude and chocolate diamonds, creating a stunning contrast. 

You leave the dressing room and head back to where you left Jin. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scan the crowd. You spot him immediately, standing by the edge of the bridge railing. His tailored suit fits him like a second skin. The lights from the tower catch the rich fabric, highlighting its intricate weave. As your eyes meet his, time seems to stand still. His gaze is warm and inviting, and a surge of electricity courses through you. It’s as if the world around you fades away, leaving only you and him. You feel a sense of peace and belonging that you haven’t felt since those summers in Chevreuse.

You watch his eyes roam your figure as you walk closer to each other. He offers his arm before asking, “Where to, beautiful?”

You grin and turn away before he can see your cheeks flush, then point, “There’s a nice place that way.” 

The cobblestone streets beneath your feet seem to pulse with anticipation. You can smell the intoxicating aroma of buttery garlic, roasted meat, and the distant strains of accordion music. With each step, excitement grew as you approached your destination.

An elegant restaurant awaits you. Intricate wrought-iron railings and ornate windows adorned its facade, offering glimpses of the luxurious interior. As you enter, the soft glow of chandeliers, the clinking of crystal glasses, and the murmur of hushed conversations greet you. 

You request an outdoor table and follow the hostess through the restaurant. The anticipation is palpable, and you can't wait to catch up with Seokjin. As you sit across from each other at the intimate candlelit table, the inviting aroma of sizzling steak and bubbling wine fills the air. Your conversation flows effortlessly, pausing only when a delectable bite or sip interrupts you. It’s as if time slowed down, allowing you to savor every moment together.

Your brows crease as you tilt your head. “So you did follow the music path but ended up in photography?”

Jin smiles and looks down. “Yeah, something like that.” He looks around before locking eyes and lowers his voice. “Well, sometimes I do voice-acting gigs. Did corporate life get too boring?” 

“Something like that…” you grin as you repeat his words and reach for your cocktail glass. “I just–being in an office all day was…” You pause to find the right word.

“Not you,” Jin mutters as he raises his wineglass to his lips, eyes remaining on you. 

“Exactly.” You smile, feeling some way that he knows you. Your belly flutters with nerves and excitement as his lips curve into a familiar smirk. Despite the years that passed, he still knew how to make you feel special.

The conversation continues to flow easily, as if no time has passed between you. You share stories—of heartbreaks, missed chances, and dreams deferred.

“I never forgot you,” Jin confesses. “Even when the world pulled us apart. I still have this.” Jin reaches into his pocket and pulls out a simple pearl-like bracelet with a tiny charm, both of your first initials etched into the metal. 

As you recognize the bracelet—the one you designed so many moons ago—you gasp. You may have lost touch, but the bracelet remained a cherished memory—a symbol of an unbreakable bond. Opening your clutch, you pull out a small jewelry bag. Inside is the same bracelet.

Jin’s smile lights up the evening around you. His eyes soften as he takes the small bag from your hand, removes the bracelet, and gently slides it onto your wrist. The cool metal feels familiar, a comforting touch against your skin, but not as comfortable as Jin’s soft fingers sliding against yours.

"I knew you’d still have it,” Jin says, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and joy. “It was always a symbol of our connection, no matter how far apart we were."

A wave of emotion washes over you. The bracelet, a simple object, had become a powerful testament to the enduring nature of your relationship. As you look into Jin's eyes, you realize that the bond you share is far stronger than any distance or time can separate.

You felt a tightness in your chest. “This night can’t end. We can’t stop here. I’m supposed to leave tomorrow… to go back to New York, but I have an open schedule for a few days. Do you?” You patiently wait for Jin’s response, hoping he can hear the desperation in your voice.

Jin pauses, his eyes scanning yours for a moment before he speaks. "My schedule is open for a few days too... let's stay. We have so much catching up to do." 

Relief floods through you as you agree, grateful that your time together can extend for a little while longer.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·​​· ·

The following morning, the soft glow of sunlight filters through the sheer curtains of your bedroom, casting a warm embrace on the room. You wake to the gentle symphony of car horns and birdsong. As you stretch, the aroma of coffee fills your nostrils. You breathe it in deeply before getting out of bed. 

Walking out of the bedroom, you notice Jin has already folded the blankets from his stay on the sofa.

“You’re awake,” Jin murmurs and his lips curl up. “I was going to bring this to you.” His hand swipes above a mug of coffee and some pain au chocolat in a tray on the marble countertop.

“You went out to–”

“To get what I hope is still your favorite pastry.”

You feel your cheeks flush. “I could never get sick of them! Let’s enjoy them at the table.” You walk over, carry the tray to the dining table, pause, and stare out the courtyard window, where the sun casts a warm glow on the lush green garden outside. “Isn’t this garden beautiful?”

You feel Jin beside you and look over at him, his coffee mug at his lips. You watch his throat coax the liquid down, and then your eyes meet his. His mug makes a clink as he places it on the table. Jin’s lips part as if he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. You raise your eyebrows as if asking what he wants to say.

Jin raises his hand to tuck a few strands of your hair behind your ear. “Yes, quite beautiful.” 

Heat is radiating from your body. You clear your throat to steady your unexpected, elevated heart rate. "I can't believe we're back in Paris."

Jin hums in agreement, his gaze lingering on your face. There is a softness to his eyes that makes your heart flutter again. He'd always been handsome, but now, there is an added depth, an allure that is undeniably captivating.

After a leisurely breakfast, you explore the city, wandering through the Louvre and marveling at the art. Strolling along the streets window shopping and soaking in the Parisian atmosphere, hands brushing occasionally, sending a spark of excitement coursing through your body.

As the day wore on, a comfortable intimacy began to develop. Picking up where you left off so many years ago, peeling back layers of the people you had grown into. Laughing at memories and finishing each other's sentences, conversations flow seamlessly from one topic to another.

As the sun descends, casting the city in a golden hue, you find yourselves on a bench in front of the Eiffel Tower. The exact spot where you shared your childhood dreams. Only this time, the atmosphere is different.

"Remember when we used to pretend this was our castle?" you ask softly.

Jin smiles, his eyes twinkling. "And you were the princess, waiting for your knight in shining armor."

"You were a terrible knight," you tease, though your heart is pounding.

"Hey!" Jin protests playfully. "I was the best knight a princess could ask for."

You share a laugh, the sound echoing in the still evening air. As the sun dips below the horizon, the Eiffel Tower lit up, a dazzling spectacle against the twilight sky.

You turn to Jin, eyes sparkling. "It's still magical, isn't it?"

Jin nods, his gaze fixated on you. "It's perfect."

A moment passes, filled with a charged tension. Your heart races as you feel a magnetic pull toward him. Taking a deep breath, you step closer.

"Jin..." your voice, barely a whisper.

Before you could finish, Jin's lips were on yours. It’s a soft, gentle kiss filled with a lifetime of longing and a promise of what could be.

The world seems to fade away as you lose yourselves in the moment. The Eiffel Tower, the city lights, everything else is irrelevant. There were only the two of you.

When you pull apart, your foreheads rest against each other. You were both breathless, hearts pounding in unison.

"I wanted to do that our last summer together," Jin admits, his voice husky.

You smile with a heart overflowing with happiness. "Me too."

You found yourself drawn to Jin in a way you hadn't anticipated. His intelligence and sense of humor were intoxicating. He was more than just a childhood friend.

Jin, too, was experiencing a profound shift in his feelings. You had blossomed into a stunningly beautiful woman, but it was your essence and spirit that truly captivated him. He was falling, and with every passing moment, his feelings grew stronger.

As you nestle into Jin's embrace, the city seems to sigh contentedly around you. "I can't believe this is happening," you murmur, your voice muffled against Jin's shoulder. "It feels like a dream."

Jin's arm tightens around you, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. "If it is a dream, I don't want to wake up," he replies, his voice low and warm.

You lift your head to meet his gaze, finding yourself lost in the depths of his dark eyes. There is so much to say, so many years to catch up on, but at that moment, words seem inadequate. Instead, you lean in, brushing your lips against his. 

The touch sends electricity coursing through your body, awakening long-dormant feelings. His breath catches as you pull back slightly, your faces still mere inches apart. Time stands still as you search each other's eyes, volumes of unspoken history passing between you.

Slowly, hesitantly, he raises a hand to cup your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheekbone. You lean into his touch, closing your eyes and savoring the warmth of his skin against yours. When you open them again, you find his gaze has softened, a mixture of tenderness and longing replacing the initial shock of seeing you after so many years.

You both sit in comfortable silence for a while, basking in the warmth of newfound love and the magic of Paris at night. The city lights twinkle with possibility as if celebrating your reunion.

"You know," Jin said softly, breaking the silence, "I always wondered what would have happened if we had stayed in touch after those summers."

You lift your head from his shoulder, meeting his gaze. "Me too. But maybe... maybe this is how it was meant to be. Us finding each other again when we were ready."

Jin nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "You might be right. We've both grown, experienced life. And now..."

"And now we're here," you finish for him, squeezing his hand.

As the night deepens, a cool breeze sweeps across the Seine, causing you to shiver slightly. Jin immediately shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, his hands lingering for a moment on your arms. The gesture was so tender, so reminiscent of the boy you once knew, that it made your heart ache with affection.

"Thank you," you whisper, pulling the jacket tighter around you. It smells of his cologne—a warm, spicy scent that you find instantly comforting.

Jin smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Always looking out for you, just like old times."

You laugh softly, remembering how he used to fuss over you during your childhood adventures. A prince protecting his princess. "Some things never change, do they?"

"And some things do," Jin replies, his tone becoming more serious. He took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. "I never want to lose touch with you again. Whatever happens, whatever challenges we face, I want us to face them together."

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·​​· ·

After a beautiful few days together, weeks turn into months as you learn how to balance your new relationship with your separate lives. Your career flourishes, becoming the face of several high-profile brands. Jin's photography is in high demand as his work is featured in prestigious fashion magazines.

Your relationship became the talk of the fashion world, a fairytale romance that captures the hearts of millions. But for you and Jin, it was simply about two people who had found a way back to each other, a story as timeless and beautiful as the city of Paris itself.

Whispers and murmurs followed your every move as you stole precious moments from your chaotic lives, meeting in different corners of the world. Brussels–where fingers intertwined like vines while exploring an elegant art gallery. California–with a romantic late-night stroll on the beach, walking hand in hand as the warm ocean breeze mingled with the scent of salty sea air. 

After the bustling energy of the Met Gala, surrounded by fans seeking autographs and well-wishes, you found a peaceful sanctuary in the middle of Central Park, sharing a private picnic, basking in each other's company and the beauty of nature around you.

The initial euphoria of your reunion began to wane as the harsh reality of distance set in. Jin's career demands his presence in New York, while your commitments keep you grounded in Paris. The city of love, once a haven of intimacy, now felt like a gilded cage of loneliness.

Your days are filled with endless video calls, faces illuminated by the cold glow of the screen.

Chuckling, Jin says, “Remember when we got lost in the Louvre and ended up in the Egyptian exhibit?”

You laugh, “Oh, that was hilarious! We were so confused. And then we saw that giant sphinx and thought we were in a movie!”

“And then we found the Mona Lisa and got all excited, only to realize a crowd of tourists surrounded it.”

“We were so disappointed. But it was still fun,” you giggle through your words.

Jin leans closer to the screen. “I miss your laugh.”

You push out your bottom lip and blink rapidly, trying to ward off the tears that threaten to spill over.

Softly, Jin speaks again, “I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have you. You know that?”

You bring the screen closer and pucker your lips, sending an air kiss. “And I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you.”

Jin sighs, “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too. More than words can say.” 

“I'll visit as soon as I can, I promise.”

Every night ends the same, going over mundane details of your days and pouring your hearts out to each other. Yet, the physical distance was a constant ache, a void that no amount of virtual connection could fill.

The emotional toll of long distance was undeniable. You miss the simple pleasures of being together: holding hands, sharing a meal, falling asleep in each other's arms. The distance felt like a constant reminder of your separation, a painful reminder of what you were missing.

For now, you were two halves of a whole, separated by an ocean, your love a beacon of hope in the vast expanse of your lives.

But the strain of long distance began to wear on you both. A gnawing sense of longing and frustration slowly replaces the initial excitement of new love. Your schedules became increasingly difficult to align, with fashion weeks and photo shoots pulling you in opposite directions.

One particularly grueling day, after a 14-hour shoot, you collapse onto your hotel bed, fumbling for your phone. Jin's face appears on the screen, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

"Hey, beautiful," he said, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "How was your day?"

You sigh. "Endless. I'm so tired, Jin. I miss you."

His expression softens. "I miss you too. More than you know."

A heavy silence fell between you, filled with unspoken longings and fears. You both knew this conversation was coming, but neither wanted to be the first to broach the subject. Finally, you took a deep breath and spoke.

"Jin, I... I don't know how much longer I can do this. The distance… it's killing me."

Jin's face fell, his eyes clouding with worry. "I know. It's been hard on me too. But we're making it work, aren't we?"

You bit your lip, fighting back tears. "Are we? Sometimes, it feels like we're just going through the motions. I want more than just video calls and text messages. I want you here, with me."

Jin ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his gesture. "I want that too. You know I do. But our careers... they're important too. We've worked so hard to get where we are."

"I know," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "But at what cost? We're living separate lives, Jin. I feel like I'm losing you, even though I just found you again."

Jin's expression softens, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You're not losing me. I'm right here, always. But you're right, this isn't enough. We need to figure something out."

You nod, wiping away a stray tear. "What do we do? How do we make this work?"

Jin was quiet for a moment, his brow furrows in thought. Then, his face lit up with determination. "I have an idea. It's crazy, but hear me out."

You lean closer to the screen, intrigued. "I'm listening."

Jin's words tumble out in a rush. "What if I move to Paris? It would be a big change, but... I think it could work."

Your heart skips a beat, hope blooming in your chest. "Jin, are you serious? That's... that's a huge decision. What about your career in New York?"

He smiles, a determined glint in his eye. "My career is important, yes. But you're more important. We're more important. I can build my career anywhere, but I can't find another you."

Tears well up in your eyes, a mixture of joy and disbelief. "But... are you sure? I don't want you to resent me if things don't work out."

Jin's gaze softens. "I could never resent you. Look, I'm not saying it'll be easy. There will be challenges and adjustments to make. But I'm willing to face them all if it means being with you."

Your heart swells with emotion. "Jin, I... I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll have me," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "Say you'll let me come home to you."

A tear slips down your cheek as you nod. "Yes! Yes, of course! I want nothing more than to have you here with me."

Jin's face breaks into a radiant smile, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Then it's settled. I'll start making arrangements right away."

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·​​· ·

After months of planning and preparation, the day is finally here. Jin secures a transfer to Paris and is finally coming to the other side of the world to be with you permanently. The day he broke the news was met with overwhelming joy and relief. He finally found a way to bridge the physical distance between you.

Jin eagerly packed his belongings and said goodbye to New York, the city he could no longer call home. He was giddy at the thought that you were now his home. As he boards the plane, his heart is full with a mix of excitement and anticipation. He is finally on his way to be reunited with the love of his life.

You were waiting for Jin impatiently at the airport. Your flowy white dress swooshes with every turn you make, pacing back and forth in front of the terminal exit, holding a bouquet with soft shades of purple, ranging from pale lavender to a deeper violet. Their sweet, intoxicating scent fills the air, settling you briefly. You look at the small, delicate petals resembling tiny hearts–perfect for expressing love and affection.

The moment you see Jin, your heart wavers. Wearing a casual outfit of jeans and a button-down shirt, he offers a warm smile, and his eyes sparkle with joy. He’s pulling his luggage behind him, and in his arms, a breathtaking bouquet of lush, vibrant flowers. The arrangement is a symphony of pinks and whites. Dahlias dominate the center with their ruffled petals, surrounded by delicate sweet peas and smaller, more compact flowers. The overall effect is elegance, which is precisely the type of man Jin is. 

You both brim from ear to ear and laugh that you are on the same page. You rush into each other's arms, sweet tears mingling with your embrace. The airport may be full of the hustle and bustle of travelers, but your love shines brightly, creating a moment of peace and happiness amidst the chaos.  

Simultaneously, you both speak, “These are for you.” Giggles erupt again as you exchange bouquets. 

Jin raises them to his face and exaggerates, smelling them. “They're beautiful, just like you.” He winks and thanks you.

You press the back of your hand to your cheek, which flushes with color, “You're too much.”

Jin pulls you into another hug, his lips grazing your neck. “I'm so happy to be with you again.” 

With one hand, you lace your fingers with Jin’s, and the other weaves through the nape of his hair. “Let's go home,” you whisper.

Smiling, he replies, “I am home.”

Jin grabs his bag, and you walk toward the exit; sounds of announcements in multiple languages and murmurs of conversations all fade into the background, replaced by a palpable sense of euphoria. 

As you leave the airport, a wave of warm air hits you. Jin's hand slips into yours, a comforting gesture that sends a shiver of excitement down your spine. Jin settles into the driver’s seat of your car, and the city turns into a blur of colorful tapestry as you weave through the streets.

When arriving at your new apartment, which you picked together through a video call, Jin is welcomed by a charming atmosphere. Golden rays of sunlight pour through the wide windows, flooding the living room with a warm glow. The air is alive with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, its rich scent beckoning from the kitchen where you had set the timer before leaving. Jin sets down his bags and turns to you, an adoring glint in his eye.

"Shall you show me our new home?" he asks.

You nod eagerly, your heart filling with anticipation. As you walk through the apartment, you can't help but feel a sense of belonging. This is where your new life together will unfold.

You end the brief tour by stepping out onto a private terrace, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. Jin hugs you from behind and places his hands over yours on the railing, caging your body between his arms. 

Before you, the iconic silhouette of the Eiffel Tower stretches upward, a graceful masterpiece of iron latticework. The tower's every intricate detail is visible from your vantage point.

You twist around to face Jin, placing your hands on his shoulders, gently gliding them until your fingers interlock behind his neck. "I'm so glad you decided to take this leap," you say softly. "I couldn't imagine my life without you."

The corners of Jin’s mouth turn up in a gentle, playful arc, creating a soft, heart-like shape, causing your heart to flutter. "Me neither." 

"I have something for you," he said, pulling out a small velvet box.

Your heart races as he opens the box, revealing a delicate gold necklace with a pendant shaped like the Eiffel Tower. Embedded in the tower was a tiny diamond that caught the fading sunlight.

"Jin, it's beautiful," you gasp, touching the pendant gently.

"Turn it over," he urges softly.

With trembling fingers, you flip the pendant over. Engraved on the back are the words "our love story”.

As Jin carefully fastens the necklace around your neck, tears well up in your eyes. The cool metal settles against your skin, a tangible reminder of your journey together.

"I wanted to give you something to always remember this time, this place," Jin explains, his eyes shining. "No matter where our careers take us, we'll always have Paris."

You lean in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. "It's perfect," you whisper against his mouth. "Thank you."

As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, you and Jin sit entwined, watching the city come alive with twinkling lights. The Eiffel Tower stood proudly in the distance.

You stand there, nestled in Jin's arms. You couldn't help but reflect on the journey that had led you to this moment. From childhood summers filled with laughter and adventure to years apart, pursuing your dreams, and finally reuniting in the city of love. It feels as if every step, every decision, led you back to each other.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask.

His breath warm against your ear, he replies, "This is just the beginning."