#but... yeah for any non-news production it's like...

[9ofspades]

I still haven’t played Portal!  Everyone was obsessed with it in 2010, and I bought it some time in 2019!  I’m just too busy trying to beat Don’t Starve to start it...

i have a brain problem that prevents me from understanding people who need so much specifically newly-released TV shows that they're upset by the prospect of going a few months without new ones being produced

like they could stop making video games and books today and I wouldn't notice until sometime in 2026. honestly if they'd stop making new video games for a while that'd be kinda convenient. everyone take a break and let me catch up. I still haven't even played Persona 5.

[mckinlily]

Plot armor but it’s Bruce Wayne’s wealth.

Bruce is one of the richest men in the world. Bruce does not want to be one of the richest men in world.

He starts by implementing high starting salaries and full health care coverages for all levels at Wayne Enterprises. This in vastly improves retention and worker productivity, and WE profits soar. He increases PTO, grants generous parental and family leave, funds diversity initiatives, boosts salaries again. WE is ranked “#1 worker-friendly corporation”, and productively and profits soar again.

Ok, so clearly investing his workers isn’t the profit-destroying doomed strategy his peers claim it is. Bruce is going to keep doing it obviously (his next initiative is to ensure all part-time and contractors get the same benefits and pay as full time employees), but he is going to have to find a different way to dump his money.

But you know what else is supposed to be prohibitively expensive? Green and ethical initiatives. Yes, Bruce can do that. He creates and fund a 10 year plan to covert all Wayne facilities to renewable energy. He overhauls all factories to employ the best environmentally friendly practices and technologies. He cuts contracts with all suppliers that engage in unethical employment practices and pays for other to upgrade their equipment and facilities to meet WE’s new environmental and safety requirements. He spares no expense.

Yeah, Wayne Enterprises is so successful that they spin off an entire new business arm focused on helping other companies convert to environmentally friendly and safe practices like they did in an efficient, cost effective, successful way.

Admittedly, investing in his own company was probably never going to be the best way to get rid of his wealth. He slashes his own salary to a pittance (god knows he has more money than he could possibly know what to do with already) and keeps investing the profits back into the workers, and WE keeps responding with nearly terrifying success.

So WE is a no-go, and Bruce now has numerous angry billionaires on his back because they’ve been claiming all these measures he’s implementing are too expensive to justify for decades and they’re finding it a little hard to keep the wool over everyone’s eyes when Idiot Softheart Bruice Wayne has money spilling out his ears. BUT Bruce can invest in Gotham. That’ll go well, right?

Gotham’s infrastructure is the OSHA anti-Christ and even what little is up to code is constantly getting destroyed by Rogue attacks. Surely THAT will be a money sink.

Except the only non-corrupt employer in Gotham city is….Wayne Enterprises. Or contractors or companies or businesses that somehow, in some way or other, feed back to WE. Paying wholesale for improvement to Gotham’s infrastructure somehow increases WE’s profits.

Bruce funds a full system overhaul of Gotham hospital (it’s not his fault the best administrative system software is WE—he looked), he sets up foundations and trusts for shelters, free clinics, schools, meal plans, day care, literally anything he can think of.

Gotham continues to be a shithole. Bruce Wayne continues to be richer than god against his Batman-ingrained will.

Oh, and Bruice Wayne is no longer viewed as solely a spoiled idiot nepo baby. The public responds by investing in WE and anything else he owns, and stop doing this, please.

Bruce sets up a foundation to pay the college tuition of every Gotham citizen who applies. It’s so successful that within 10 years, donations from previous recipients more than cover incoming need, and Bruce can’t even donate to his own charity.

But by this time, Bruce has children. If he can’t get rid of his wealth, he can at least distribute it, right?

Except Dick Grayson absolutely refuses to receive any of his money, won’t touch his trust fund, and in fact has never been so successful and creative with his hacking skills as he is in dumping the money BACK on Bruce. Jason died and won’t legally resurrect to take his trust fund. Tim has his own inherited wealth, refuses to inherit more, and in fact happily joins forces with Dick to hack accounts and return whatever money he tries to give them. Cass has no concept of monetary wealth and gives him panicked, overwhelmed eyes whenever he so much as implies offering more than $100 at once. Damian is showing worrying signs of following in his precious Richard’s footsteps, and Babs barely allows him to fund tech for the Clocktower. At least Steph lets him pay for her tuition and uses his credit card to buy unholy amounts of Batburger. But that is hardly a drop in the ocean of Bruce’s wealth. And she won’t even accept a trust fund of only one million.

Jason wins for best-worst child though because he currently runs a very lucrative crime empire. And although he pours the vast, vast majority of his profits back into Crime Alley, whenever he gets a little too rich for his tastes, he dumps the money on Bruce. At this point, Bruce almost wishes he was being used for money laundering because then he’s at least not have the money.

So children—generous, kindhearted, stubborn till the day they die the little shits, children—are also out.

Bruce was funding the Justice League. But then finances were leaked, and the public had an outcry over one man holding so much sway over the world’s superheroes (nevermind Bruce is one of those superheroes—but the public can’t know that). So Bruce had to do some fancy PR trickery, concede to a policy of not receiving a majority of funds from one individual, and significantly decrease his contributions because no one could match his donations.

At his wits end, Bruce hires a team of accounts to search through every crinkle and crevice of tax law to find what loopholes or shortcuts can be avoided in order to pay his damn taxes to the MAX.

The results are horrifying. According to the strictest definition of the law, the government owes him money.

Bruce burns the report, buries any evidence as deeply as he can, and organizes a foundation to lobby for FAR higher taxation of the upper class.

All this, and Wayne Enterprises is happily chugging along, churning profit, expanding into new markets, growing in the stock market, and trying to force the credit and proportionate compensation on their increasingly horrified CEO.

Bruce Wayne is one of the richest men in the world. Bruce Wayne will never not be one of the richest men in the world.

But by GOD is he trying.

[navybrat817]

A Kindred Spirit

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky meets a kindred spirit while he's grocery shopping.

Word Count: Over 2.2k

Warnings: Alpine the cat (is that a warning?), established relationship, humor, sweetness, fluff, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Tower Shenanigans. @buckybarnesfic, this is for you! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was Bucky’s turn to go grocery shopping, which he enjoyed and loathed. It was nice being able to pick out his own food, but he had to bite back a retort every time someone left their cart in the middle of the aisle or took a little too long when they stood in front of a shelf. He should’ve asked you to join him, but he was already out running another errand and didn’t want to bother you. If you were there with him, you would’ve giggled when he grumbled at the list. You would have also agreed with him when he complained about the high cost of food, wondering why everything was so expensive. It was insane.

Walking through the store, he kept an ear open while trying not to draw attention to himself. It was an old habit from when he was on the run. He willed his shoulders to relax, but instead, he glared up at the fluorescent light, his hand twitching with the desire to hold yours. He enjoyed holding your hand, which grounded him, and loved how your heart skipped a beat whenever he kissed it.

The sooner he finished shopping, the sooner he’d get back to the tower and you.

“Why are there so many PopTarts on this list?” he muttered as he went to the cereal aisle and put them in the cart. To be fair, he hadn’t realized there were so many flavors, and he knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he didn’t get the right ones.

He snorted when he saw that deodorant was next on the list, immediately clocking John’s handwriting. “That’s not food, so I’m not getting it.” Yeah, it was petty of him, since he could technically buy non-edible products at the grocery store. Maybe he was still annoyed by John's comment about your ass. You had a stunning ass, capable of leaving people in awe. That didn't mean he wanted the junior varsity Captain America to ogle it.

While Bucky had a tendency to get John the generic brand of foods, he did take dietary needs and favorite foods seriously. There was a particular brand of hot sauce that Yelena preferred, and he made sure to get the largest bottle possible. He made sure to get different types of fries as well, as there was an ongoing debate about whether regular, crinkle, or curly cut fries were the best. John almost flipped the table, but the argument died down when Bucky said he’d always share his fries with you. Ava said that was love.

She was right.

The thought of you softened his demeanor, and it softened even further when he saw your handwriting. “Chocolate, please, and thank you. You’re the best!” He traced the letters with his fingers and smiled. If he had the money, he’d buy you an entire chocolate shop. Because he didn't, he made sure to grab more than enough, anticipating that Alexei might try to steal some.

Thinking it over, he grabbed one more bar. “Just in case,” he whispered.

He grabbed some flowers for you, too, because you deserved them.

As he checked out, he balanced the reusable bags Bob insisted on using and tried not to sneer at the total. It wasn’t the worst shopping trip. He finished up a lot quicker than he expected. Maybe the two of you could go for a ride on his bike once everything was unpacked.

He managed to take your keys out of his pocket without dropping any of the bags, smiling again. Using your car was easier for shopping trips and he liked that it smelled like you. He was also one of the only people you trusted to drive your vehicle, which he prided himself on.

What he did not expect to see when he got to your car was a white ball of fur curled up on the hood. “What the hell?” he muttered.

His eyes flickered around the parking lot, and he listened for anyone calling out for a cat. The cat had no collar, and he had no clue if it had a name, but that didn’t mean it didn’t belong to someone. He liked to think someone would be in distress if their pet was missing, but he didn't hear or see anyone come out to claim it. It didn’t move either when he put the bags in the trunk and placed the flowers in the passenger seat.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

Putting his hands on his hips, he stared at the animal until it lifted its head. A pair of crystal blue eyes stared back at him, unafraid and not at all bothered. He had to smile because it strangely reminded him of you, unwavering and always willing to look right at him. “Hey there,” he said, tentatively holding a hand out. He didn’t want to spook the cat. “You lost? You're not hurt, are you?”

The cat’s fur was surprisingly pristine, but that didn't mean it wasn't in pain or sick. After sniffing Bucky’s hand, it meowed and bumped its head against his hand, making his heart melt. The fur was so soft, and he swore he heard a purr. It was adorable.

“Yeah, you're cute, but here’s the thing,” he said, shaking his head at himself since he was talking to a cat. “I can’t drive with you on the hood, so…”

As if the cat understood him, it stood up and stretched. He panicked for a moment when he thought it would scratch the paint, but there wasn’t a single mark from the claws. And instead of jumping onto the street like he expected, the cat silently walked right to him and stared into his eyes again.

An agile and stealthy little thing.

“...What?” he asked as they stared at each other down.

With a gentle meow, the white ball of fur placed its front paws on his chest and crawled into his arms. He stood perfectly still, wondering what he looked like at that moment; an imposing man in a leather jacket holding a bright white ball of fluff. It had to be a sight.

“Since you don't have a collar and I don't see anyone searching for you, I can take you to a shelter,” he suggested. The second the words left his mouth he knew it wasn't happening, and there was another meow, softer and sadder that had his walls crumbling.

“Listen, you really are cute, but I can’t just take you home.” He stopped with a huff. “I’ve never had a cat before. I wouldn't know what to do with you.”

The response was to further burrow itself in his arms. 

“I have crazy roommates,” he continued. The team was in a good place, but it didn't take away that they were an entire range of crazy. How could he throw a cat into the mix? “And what would my girl say?”

He just knew the idea of a pet would thrill you, especially since the cat was so cute. Though he couldn't just spring that on you, could he? And could he spring that on the team? It was their home, too. 

But the cat didn’t budge, content being in Bucky’s arms. He found that he was content, too. Had he become a cat person in a matter of seconds?

Just like when he met you, he was fucked. 

“Okay, here’s the thing,” he said, balancing the light creature in one arm as he took his phone out to call you. “I have to clear this with my girl, and when she approves because she will, we need to make sure you aren’t chipped or anything, okay?”

Looking at the feline, he had a feeling there was no chip, that there was no home or a family. He wondered if there was a reason she chose to lay on the car he drove today. Was it looking for its own family? A place to fit in? Wasn’t that what everyone wanted?

He could give it that.

“Hey.” He let out a happy sigh at the sound of your voice. “You still at the store?”

“Sort of,” he replied, chuckling as the feline curled up more. He wasn’t even sure if it was a girl or a boy. “That’s actually why I’m calling.”

“Is everything okay?” He could hear you moving around, likely heading to the door. “Do you need me to meet you?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” he promised, touched that you were ready to go to him. “Have I mentioned you're the best?”

Nothing like buttering up his girl before mentioning the cat. 

“You are the best. I wrote it on the list,” you said. He could hear you smiling. “But why are you trying to butter me up?”

Of course, you knew what he was up to. “Because we may need to make another shopping trip for some cat stuff,” he replied, holding his breath.

You paused on the other end. “Cat stuff? Why would we need to buy cat stuff?” you asked, gasping. “Bucky, did you get a cat?!”

He breathed out. At least you didn't sound upset. “Well. Um, hang on.” He pulled up the camera and snapped the best photo he could. After sending it to you, he didn't put his phone back up to his ear right away, knowing you were about to shriek. You were usually considerate with his enhanced hearing, but this was a very cute cat.

“Oh, my GOD!” The cat tilted its head when your voice rang out through the speaker, but didn't seem unphased otherwise. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

“It’s okay. You-”

“But that is the cutest fucking cat I’ve ever seen in my life,” you continued, making him chuckle. “Where did you find her?! Did you adopt her?!”

Bucky held her closer. “I found her on the hood of the car when I came out of the store, and why do you assume it’s a girl?” 

“That beauty is a girl. I just know,” you said with complete confidence. “Okay, we need a collar, bowls, food, a litter box, a scratching post… Ooh, a little helmet so she can go on rides with you!” That did sound adorable. “Hang on. I need to make a list.” 

He chuckled again at your enthusiasm. “Before we do any of that, we need to make sure she isn’t chipped,” he said, trying not to feel guilty for not doing that before calling and getting your hopes up. And what about her shots? Were those up to date?

“If she has an owner, we’ll fight them,” you said like it was no big deal. 

Mischievous blue eyes gazed up at Bucky, and he laughed all over again. “That’s my girl,” he fondly said. “And I think she heard you and agrees.”

“So, assuming all is well, we're keeping her?” you asked, trying to sound casual but he heard your hopefulness.

Bucky's heart picked up when you said “we” because it was a reminder that he had someone by his side. “Yeah, I think we are.”

“Yes! It’s about time we got a pet,” you said, careful to not shout this time. “And cats choose their people. You know that right?”

“You think so?” he asked. 

“I know so. She was sitting on the hood of my car in a parking lot, and I think she wanted you to find her. And judging from the photo you sent, she looks right at home curled up against you,” you said. He wondered if that would've been the case had he been on his bike. Would the outcome be the same? “I’ll bet you two are kindred spirits.”

“Just like us,” he said. Pieces that just fit together. 

Your happy sigh made him smile. “Just like us,” you agreed. 

“Let me bring her by so I can drop off the food, and then we’ll take care of everything.” 

“Ten bucks says she hisses at John and adores Bob,” you teased. You were probably right. “I can’t wait to see you!” 

“I can't wait either,” he said, glancing down when he heard the soft meow. 

“I was clearly talking to her when I said I can’t wait to see you.” You giggled when Bucky growled. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Drive safe.”

“I will.” He exhaled once you hung up. “Well, that went well.” He helped the cat into the car and placed her next to the flowers. “You’ll love my girl. She’s the best.”

The beautiful feline meowed and curled up on the seat. He realized he’d have to come up with a name for her. Something special for such a beautiful cat, something that fits well. He had a feeling that the right name would come to him by the end of the day, or that you would help him if he got stuck.

“I think you’ll like the gang, too. They’re…” Bucky tapped a finger on the steering wheel. “They’re something.”

The team had been lost in many ways before becoming their own crazy sort of family.

Before he could stop himself, he said, “I know what it's like to be lost, but I’ll take care of you from now on, okay?” She lifted her head and stared with knowing eyes before he pet her head. Satisfied when she meowed, he smiled and started up the car. “Let’s go home.”

Had to bring Alpine in, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[on-leatheredwings]

Mr. Sandman (18+)

Yandere Jason Todd / AFAB Reader

> romantic  > tw/cw: non-con, somno. reader has a vagina, piv sex, creampie(s). > Jason just can't get enough of you when you're awake; why would that change when you're asleep? > a/n: my first jason solo!!! WE UP! im a sucker for simpering, weak, vulnerable jason sowwyyyy . he needs u spiritually what can i say . > word count: 1.1k

Jason knows he shouldn't be doing this.

But who could blame him? You’re just so gorgeous. And so smart, so funny, so generous and so– so perfect. You are his god. He is your faithful acolyte. And your cunt is his altar of choice.

Jason glances himself in the mirror across your bedroom. He’s a hulking mass of muscle on all fours, hovering above your gently sleeping body. It would be a shock you haven’t woken up yet, if not for his stealth. He padded onto your bed, knowing just where the mattress would give soundlessly under his solid weight. Underneath him, you’re none the wiser. Innocent. Ripe and for the taking.

He shouldn't be doing this, he reminds himself, despite his bare erection already weeping precum in anticipation. 

You took him into your embrace, like a savior to a wounded dog. You decided he was loveable, of all things. 

He shouldn't be doing this, he tells himself again, despite his hands starting to wander. Your nipples poke sinfully through his wifebeater, breasts nearly spilling out of it anyway. You’ve dictated it to be your new set of pajamas. It’s much too long for you, falling past the start of your thighs. He peels it up, slowly, carefully. He leaves it to bunch at your collarbone, revealing your naked breasts. He swallows an appreciative groan, leaning forward and suckling on a nipple.

It’ll just be some heavy petting. Just some kissing. Just some marks so people know you’re his – he knows what to say so you won’t mind that too much in the morning. Just– just a few touches.

But then Jason’s hand wanders downwards. And when he cups your cunt with his hand – his throat tightens; he bristles, stiffens; heady desire intoxicates him and fogs his mind – all restraint comes crashing down. 

He was a damn idiot to think he could resist.

“Okay– Just a little. Just a little, I swear,” Jason groans, little more than a whisper, betraying his attempts at being quiet.

Jason, with expert vigilante fluidity, hikes one of your legs over his shoulder. He lowers and shuffles back to an eye-level view of your cunt, waiting prettily just for him.

He draws circles around your clit with his fingers, using his abundant precum as lube. A man possessed, he could watch all day at how easily and nicely you let his fingers in.

Fuck, you were made just for him, he bets. It’s not only his cock your pussy remembers; your body accommodates, obeys, and wettens in response to every part of his own. He’s barely even trying, pumping his digits back and forth. You’re basically drawing him in. 

Your mouth drops open, a soft whine falling out, and he freezes. His fingers are still stuffed in your puffy cunt. After a few seconds, you continue dozing off, although your brows pinch together with pleasure.

If you can wake up at any second, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least go the full mile. He slips his fingers out. Another whine from you. I know, I know, baby, he thinks. You’ll be full again soon enough. Jason slides forward and makes you both fit together puzzle pieces, cock against your folds. “Just the tip, I promise,” Jason says again. And so he continues. 

He’s in. He lets out a relieved sigh, nearly moaning. He’s in.

… But it’s not enough.

Before Jason knows it, he’s pushing forward, entering you fully. And every inch is well-earned – your tightness has him choked, panting and gasping. Yeah, he reassures himself. He fucking belongs here.

It takes him no time at all to start fucking his precum into your cunt. A near-frothy ring of cream grows at the fat base of his cock, a product of his speed and fervor. If he had the mind to, he’d be embarrassed at his desperation. But then he grinds your clit down against the root of his cock, frotting against your walls, and he could not be at all fucked to care.

Jason could start laughing, fucking you with wild abandon. As soon as he climbed on this bed, this was out of his hands. How did he ever think he’d be able to stop? He can’t even try to quiet down anymore. There’s the sound of skin colliding bouncing through the room, your mattress creaking from the intensity of him pounding you, and of course, his own heavy breathing. Fuck, fuck. Despite the noise, he can’t help it – he needs this.

Finally, the hot coil in him snaps. He shudders violently, veins visible in his arms and temple, mouth falling open into a moan. Face-to-face with you at this point, his breaths tickle against your cheek.

On his third orgasm, he’s finally spent. He marvels at the mess he’s made – the inside of your thighs is slick with his own makings, pearly white smeared across the canvas that his your skin. Your abused cunt is swollen and so, so pretty. His cock is still firing ropes into your body. 

Jason can't bear to withdraw himself, mind drunk with pleasure. Suddenly drowsy, Jason has to stop himself from collapsing on top of you. He gently lowers himself to lie down facing you. Both of you are on your sides, his cock still buried in your warmth.

You start to wake up, blinking away the blearly tendrils of sleep. You glance black hair and a shock of white. Mm. Jason, your sleepy mind thinks. Good. Great, even. The allure of continuing your slumber calls, as he rocks you back and forth, the motion almost sedative. Hips meeting yours, cock rutting into you…

Wait–

Your eyes fully snap open, body on high alert. You gasp.

“Jay–?” you squeak. Now fully awake, you register the full presence of his length in you and the pleasurable throb in between your thighs. And the utter stickiness of your thighs. 

Startled, Jason wakes up with a jerk. He doesn’t normally fall into such deep sleep. He feels panic rise. He was supposed to wake up after just a few minutes…!

“Fuck–” he begins, fumbling to roll away and unsheathe himself. But you curl a fist around the collar of his shirt, like pulling on a leash. You two stare at one another, both bodies still sweaty and warm. Your cunt is still full with him, his seed. Leaking. 

Fear thunders through Jason at getting caught. 

But then you pout. So cute, his dumb animal brain instinctively thinks. Even though you’d argue to him that you’re nothing of the sort. You smile mischievously, sinking onto his cock an inch.

“Now, Jay,” you say, tutting. “You should’ve woken me up first.”

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hi Jonny, if you don't mind I have a question about the TMA TTRPG! So I noticed that on the player's guide there's this guy, who my friends and I assumed is probably Jon. If it is him, is this a canon design, or more like some of the non-canon stuff that's in the merch?

So, I hope you don't mind if i use this ask to go a bit off on one. I'm not specifically dragging you (I'm actualy glad you asked, as I've thinking about posting on the topic), but all the discussion around the RPG art and how "official" or "canon" it might be is, to my mind, slightly silly.

First up, is it "official" art? I mean, yeah, its art for the officially licenced Magnus Archives RPG. This means Monte Cook Games have commissioned someone to do a beatiful illustration broadly based on some aspect, episode or character from the podcast and it goes in the book. But that's kinda all it means. "Official" is a legal distinction, not an artistic one. The fact that it's in an official product doesn't make it any less one artist's cool interpretation of a character that has only been vaguely described in audio.

Second, is it Jonathan Sims the Archivist? I mean, it's probably based on the idea of him, but it's certainly not set in stone. When we were first discussing art with MCG, we advised that character pictures be more vibes-based and not explicitly tied to specific people (ie. a portrait inspired by Tim wouldn't be captioned "This is Tim" and wouldn't be placed opposite a profile for Tim Stoker, archival assistant.) This was mainly because we wanted the artists to have plenty of freedom to interpret and not feel too tied down by the need to know everything about the podcast. But, to be frank, it was also because we know that there are a few fans out there that are kinda Not Chill about what they've personally decided these characters look like and can get a bit defensive over depictions that differ.

It strikes me as particularly strange to be having this discussion about art that's for a roleplying game book. Something that's explicitly and solely designed to give you the ability to play in your version of the Magnus universe. The idea that this is the thing where we'd for some reason try to immutably establish unchangable appearances for these characters would be pretty funny if some folks weren't taking it so seriously. Similarly ridiculous is the idea we could reasonably have said to MCG "We'd love for you to make a huge beautiful RPG book of our setting... Just make sure you don't depict any of the iconic characters or events from it!"

But... is it "canon"? Now, to my mind, this highlights a real weakness in a lot of fandom thinking around "canon", which is that it generally has no idea what to do with adaptations. All adaptation is interpretation, and relies on taking a work and letting new creatives (and sometimes the same ones) have a different take on it. Are the appearances of the Fellowship of the Ring in the LOTR movies "canon"? How much, if at all, does that matter? Neil Gaiman's book Neverwhere was originaly a 90s BBC series made with a budget of 50 pence; is anyone who makes fanart of Mr Croup that doesn't look like the actor Hywel Bennet breaking canon? What about the novel that describes the character differently? Or the officially licenced Neverwhere comic where he looks like neither of them? Which is his "canon appearance"?

Canon is an inherently messy concept, and while it is useful for a creative team trying to keep continuity and consistency within a creative work, for thinking about anything beyond that it tends to be more hinderance than help.

Anyway, all this is to say that the above picture and all the others in the RPG are exactly as canon as every other picture you've ever seen of the Archivist.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Touch of Sweetness 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Loki Laufeyson

Sister series to mob!Thor

Summary: you make a new friend, but that’s not all. (short reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“I can’t wait to try one,” you beam at the tarts on the cooling rack. 

“Why don’t you?” Queenie asks as she wipes her hands on her apron. 

“Well, it’s only polite we let others try them, right? Thor? Loki?” 

“Oh, I don’t know if we should bother them right now,” she puts her hand behind her. “I’m sure they’ll find us when they’re ready.” 

“Uh, yeah, makes sense,” you raise your shoulders to your ears. “Sorry.” 

“Please, don’t be. I just don’t want to be in the way.” 

“Me either,” you smile. “I feel like that a lot. My sister always makes me the odd one out. Her and her friends.” 

“Oh, really. I’m sorry.” 

“Not your fault. I don’t want to tell on myself but I’m really happy we met. I hope... we can be friends.” You chew your lip as you look around. 

“We already are, aren’t we?” She asks. 

Your cheeks hurt as you smile gets even bigger, “really?” 

“Sure. You think I bake for anyone but friends?” She snorts. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m not much of a homemaker.” 

“No, you have to be! You always look so nice,” you insist. 

“Ha, yeah, well... that’s what they like,” she swallows. 

“They?” You wonder. 

“Ladies,” Thor’s booming voice thunders in and you whip around to face him. “I smell something sweet.” 

Queen mumbles but doesn’t respond clearly. You perk up, “tarts! They’re all done, if you want to try some.” 

“Tarts,” he echoes in excitement and claps his hand, “I was of the mind for a different sort of sugar,” he steps around you and nears Queenie. He puts his large hands on her shoulders and draws her into a kiss. You avert your gaze embarrassed. “But a dessert would be nice too.” 

You shift and wave at the tray of pastries. “If Loki wants some, there’s a lot to go around.” 

“My brother? No, he disappeared a while ago. So is his nature,” he plucks a tart from the array. “But perhaps we will set one aside for him.” 

“Okay,” you agree as Queenie turns and wipes the counter. She’s already done that but she seems to prefer the distraction. 

Thor bites into tart, nearly taking half of it. He purrs and nods. “Very delicious.” 

“She did most of the work,” Queenie says over her shoulder. 

“We both did a lot,” you counter. “Really, it’s good?” 

“Haven’t you tried one?” He asks through his mouthful. 

“Not yet.” You turn and carefully cradle one. You lift it over your cupped hand to catch the crumbs and bite into it. “Mmm.” 

“Queenie, please, you must,” Thor turns with what’s left of his and offers it to her. She turns to him and hesitates. She lets him feed her the tart and chews tightly. 

She hums and hides her mouth behind her hand, “very good.” 

“Well, it seems you’ve been quite productive,” Thor praises. “You should show sweetness around. Give her a lay of the land. Have a bit of fun. Can’t save it all for the night time, eh?” 

He winks and she bats her lashes bashfully, “sure, um, come on,” she brushes by him and grabs your wrist. “I’ll show you the garden. It’s my favourite place.” 

“Aside from the bed,” Thor chortles. 

She squeezes you tight as she drags you away. It’s cute how much he loves her but you imagine you’d be just as embarrassed. You go with her easily, chewing on what’s left of your tart. 

“You’ll have to take some with you,” she says. “I can’t possibly eat so many.” 

“Oh, thank you.” 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” she takes you through the back door and finally stops. You can sense her dismay. 

“Are you okay?” You free yourself from her grasp and touch her shoulder. She winces. 

“Fine,” she insists and crosses her arms. She marches ahead of you. “Just need some fresh air. It was getting warm in the kitchen.” She stops and glances back at you. “I don’t know how you’re not dying in that.” 

You look down at your turtleneck and shrug, “guess I’m used to it.” You follow her and glance around. The yard is huge. There’s a pool and grotto, a canopy over a dining set, a gazebo at the far corner surrounded by lush rose bushes, flowers at the middle arranged around the immense fountain. It’s like a fairytale. 

“This is so...” 

“I know, it’s beautiful,” she agrees as if it’s a bad thing. “Do you want to see the birds?” 

“Birds?” 

She nods and beckons you after her. She takes you toward the gazebo and around to the rear corner of the yard. The stone wall is woven over with vines and you can hear the steady cheep within. Bright yellow heads poke in and out as wings rustle through the leaves. 

“Wow!” You say. 

“He gets them imported,” she explains. “Pretty but... stuck here...” 

“They can fly away.” 

“They are tracked,” she sighs. “Not that they get very far with clipped wings.” 

You frown, “oh.” 

“Well...” she sniffs, “things are a bit nicer with someone to share them with,” she stands beside you. “Aren’t they?” 

You agree with a nod and gape at the wall of birds nesting between the vines. After a while, you trail after her into the gazebo and play on the wooden chessboard inside. The air smells like pollen. You while away the time, enjoying the lull as the breeze gently flows through the arches. 

“Checkmate. I think.” You say. 

She clicks her tongue, “yes.” 

“Wow, I never played before,” you snicker. 

“Don’t be a sore winner,” she sticks her tongue out. 

“I’m not,” you retort. 

“Well, maybe I’m a sore loser,” she pouts. 

You laugh and when she does, you laugh even louder. It’s infectious as the two of you giggle in the curtained dim of the gazebo. 

“Ahem,” the clearing of the throat also clears the air. You choke on your laughter and look in tandem to the shadow in the doorway. “I was told I am to return you to your home.” 

Loki stands with a placid expression. Despite his unaffected demeanour, you notice that a strand of his hair has fallen forward away from the rest of his neatly combed locks and there’s a dark stain on his collar. 

“Oh, already?” You wonder. 

He checks the watch on his wrist, “my brother said so. It is after dinner time. I believe he has plans with his... companion.” 

Queenie rises, “maybe next time you can stay.” 

“Hm, yes, maybe next time,” Loki repeats deliberately. “Come on then. I’ve not got all night.” 

You stand and give an apologetic smile, “bye, Queenie,” you murmur as she passes Loki. You follow her and stop just before him. “Did you have a tart?” 

“A tart?” His brows arch. 

“In the kitchen. We baked tarts.” 

“Mm, perhaps another time,” he drawls. “Let us not linger.” 

“Yes, sir,” you agree and wait for him to move. He doesn’t. You stare at each other. Finally, he shifts and extends his arm to gesture you out ahead of him. “Thanks,” you bounce past him and down the steps. “Oh look, you can see the moon already.” You point ahead as you cross the lawn ahead of him. 

“Mm,” he follows you at a pace. “Suppose that is rather amusing.” 

[from-izzy]

STILL BEAUTIFUL | ATEEZ JEONG YUNHO

"You're beautiful no matter what. With or without makeup. Scars or no scars. Breakouts or no breakouts. You’re still beautiful.”

pairing » ateez jeong yunho x fem!reader

trope/au » established relationship au, non-idol au

genre » very very super fluffy, hurt/comfort, gentle and caring boyfriend yunho

word count; estimated reading time » 1176; ~4 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » pet names (bubs), insecurities about skin/having breakouts, reader implied to be physically smaller than reader

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 ateez masterlist

yeah so...this wasn't originally a yunho fic but a series of events happened (the ateez movie-) and i just had to change this to yunho hehe...anyway!- thank you for beta-reading for me @jaehunnyy !!

You were definitely one of the luckier girls, especially during puberty and body changes. Maybe it's your genetics? Age? Or maybe it's your lifestyle factor too. On rare, special occasions, you would apply the thinnest layer of makeup. Even though you were interested in the art, you could never fully commit to waking up earlier to put it on. All in all, you kept your face free from any products as much as possible.

All your friends absolutely supported your no-makeup choice, as they believed that your skin didn't need to be exposed to unnecessary chemicals. Your clear, smooth skin, even through all the oily food, questionable sleep schedule and changing weather, is something that they've always wished for. They've always asked about your routine, but you weren't lying when you told them it's all soap and water at the very best.

Of course, occasional pimples and acne would still surface itself on your skin. Each time it does, you vowed to start researching and implementing skincare to your day. But each time it disappears, and the drive to prevent more breakout is pushed to the back of your mind.

Oh, how you wish you had researched earlier. How you wish you had acted as soon as the first pimple came to light. How you wish you would stop looking at yourself in the mirror and pick at the scars, just like what you're doing now.

Tears welled in your eyes, frustrated at the new, dissatisfying experience. You wanted to hide your face behind your palms as you wept alone in the bathroom, but you knew better than to have your dirty hands all over your inflamed skin. Sound asleep in the connecting bathroom, you hope that Yunho's light snores will drown your sobs. You rip a square of toilet paper, dab it lightly on the bottom of your eyelids, and you sniffle as quietly as possible so as not to wake Yunho up.

You exhale heavily, lower lip jutting at the face reflected in the mirror. The scars litter your forehead, cheeks and chin. You remember how taking photos used to be a joy, especially when Yunho was with you. Your loving boyfriend loves to take pictures of you too in all sorts of angles and poses. He would direct you and would lie on the floor even if it meant dirtying his clothes; gonna have to thank Wooyoung for those photography lessons. For any single outing, there would be hundreds of shots as Yunho hypes you up despite looks from passersby.

Can you blame him though? You are the most beautiful girl he's ever met, and you're his girl.

You're sure that Yunho has caught on to your refusals to take photos, claiming that you're not feeling good to be in front of the lens. While it's true, the reuse of the same excuse has been met with your boyfriend's raised eyebrows and downturned lip. Each crease line grows with his concern, but the kiss you leave on his lips would change the subject. It's only a temporary reassurance for the man, but he promises that he'll get to the bottom of it soon.

The time to 'get to the bottom of it' is tonight, when the clock just passed midnight. Yunho adjusts his sleeping position, his arm automatically reaching over to your side of the bed, only to be met with cold fabric. He groans, muttering your name numerous times with no response from you. An eye opens, squinting at the slightly ajar bathroom door. Blinking his tiredness away and ditching the weighted blanket, Yunho stumbles to the light source.

Steps away from the connected room, the first thing he hears is the occasional running water from the tap and broken sobs. It alarms him and knocks any sleepiness from his system.

"Bubs," Yunho's deep voice has you jumping, a hand over your chest. He apologises, trudging towards you with wide arms as his eyes adjust to the light above. "What are you doing up? Is everything okay?"

You turn away from him, busying your hands with soap and water, the very two that used to be enough for you. Still, you manage a nod with a broken hum. Amidst your shock and panic, you didn't realise that you left his arms open without you. Yunho's arms slowly return to his side, taking his place behind you. Strong arms wrap around your waist, Yunho resting his chin at the top of your head.

"Your eyes are red, bubs." You knew that his words meant more than pointing out the obvious. "I'm worried. Why are you crying alone, hm? You could've woken me up if something was wrong."

"No, nothing is wrong." Your head hangs low, biting your lips in anxiety as Yunho grumbles at your blatant lie. "Let's go back to be-"

You gasp sharply when Yunho spins you around and pulls you up to sit you at the counter. He traps your body with his arms beside your thighs. The height difference is accommodated when he steps back only to lean to have a better look at your tear-streaked face. He didn't let you turn away anymore, pressing his lips against yours.

His lips gently convey all his feelings for you, pulling away for a breath and sweet nothings. A teardrop lands on his cheek from you, but he doesn't mind at all. He keeps you grounded with his passionate kiss and words. It's only when Yunho pulls away to connect his forehead to yours that you decide to come clean to him.

"I've been insecure because of my breakouts." Yunho nods, a sign for you to continue as he listens. "That's why I haven't been taking a lot of pictures. I just feel so ugly, and my self-confidence has dro-"

"Beautiful." He pulls away to look into your glimmering orbs. "You're beautiful no matter what. With or without makeup. Scars or no scars. Breakouts or no breakouts. You’re still beautiful.” He feels your body start to relax. “You're still my beautiful girl."

Yunho cradles your jawline the second after. Just like he did to your lips, he presses fluttering kisses throughout your face. He actively avoided your pimples to avoid infections, but if it wasn't for that, he would have kissed every inch of your face. He wouldn't leave a single bit left untouched and unknown to his lips.

Yunho hushes you calmly and soothingly. His index finger playfully taps the tip of your nose. He would give you funny faces. All to make his girl laugh. When he hears his favourite sound in the whole world, he opens his arms once more. This time, you reciprocate, diving immediately to his frame.

"I love you," you whisper to his ear.

"I love you more."

Yunho spends the rest of the night kissing your face in bed, patting your head and playing with your hair. His gestures drift you off slowly and surely. With your light snores and dried tears, Yunho joins you in dreamland, satisfied with your warmth by his side.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 ateez masterlist

join the taglist here » @k-films @kflixnet @starlit-network @kstrucknet @blossomnet @pirateeznet @illusionnet @haneul-and-clouds

[cursingtoji]

a friday night for most mid twenties should be more exciting than yours, but you wouldn’t exchange it for the world, not when you could order your favourite meal for dinner then cuddle with nanami watching a reality show he swears he doesn’t like but doesn’t miss an episode.

“what a bitch” he gasps when it’s revealed the guy’s fiancé had a secret boyfriend, you hold back your laughter from his exaggerated reaction. his hand is on your back, rubbing it and playing with the elastic of your shorts without any malice while you lay on his chest.

after the episode ends he kisses your temple and gently rolls you over to remove himself from the couch.

“don’t go to bed too late” he says moving to the bedroom.

“yeah i’m going right after this one” you reply as a new show starts.

as promised, an hour later you stretch your back and turn off the tv moving to your shared suite and going straight to the bathroom.

“kento?” you call from the toilet, where you kept the door open, he hums in acknowledgement, “what time am i supposed to pick yuuji from megumi’s?” you flush and go wash your hands and face, already beginning your skincare nightly routine.

“i’ll do it, don’t like the way fushiguro flirts with you” you look up from the sink watching him through the mirror, his reading glasses are on the tip of his nose and he licks his finger before turning the page of his book. such an old man…

“he’s just being friendly, love, besides it’s not like i flirt back” you justify.

“i know, i trust you, just don’t like him. megumi is a good kid though” you hum agreeing with your husband.

with a dot of retinol on the tip of your finger your walk barefoot to his side of the bed, leaning close to his face and gently applying the product under his eyes and where his wrinkles would be in a few years. would, since you’re trying your best to include a little bit of wrinkle prevention in your husband non-existent routine as well.

nanami doesn’t move his head, allowing you to put cream under his eyes, soft fingers tapping the skin behind his glasses, he said he trusted you but he close his eyes just out of precaution.

“i think that’s enough tapping, darling” he holds your wrist gently.

“just making sure your skin absorbs it well. in 10 years i don’t want people to think you’re my father” he watches your pretty ass march back to the sink in order to brush your teeth.

“i thought you liked calling me daddy” he resumes his reading listening to you choke, “everything alright in there?” he asks nonchalantly.

“y-yeah, just… caught me off guard with that, kento” he hears an additional ‘thankfully yuuji is not here’ and as soon as you’re done you apply some lip balm and brings it to him as well.

“no, that’s too glossy” he stops you.

“gojo uses this one too” he knows you say this with the intention of telling him it’s not too feminine but he now despises the little tube even more, “bad argument sorry” you hold his strong face and pepper his lips a couple of times to transfer the lip balm on your lips to his “there you go”

“that’s low even for you” he protests but doesn’t rub it off.

you make your way to your side of the bed, laying on your stomach with your head at the end of the bed catching your phone and scrolling through socials. your husband’s hand naturally finds the back of your thighs, rubbing the skin of your legs softly while reading.

“i scheduled my wax appointment for monday” you try to justify your cactus-like legs.

“you know i don’t mind” indeed, he keeps rubbing the back of his hand on your calf, finding comfort in the way your barely grown hairs trickle his skin, you murmur something about him being too good to you and focus back on your phone.

nanami finishes a chapter and quietly closes his book, he now pays full attention to you and the privileged view he has of your ass and the cute underwear peaking from the hem of your tiny shorts.

“darling? i think my lips could use a bit more of what’s on yours.”

[eliluminado7]

BE MY BETA TESTER!!!!

Hi all! im proud to announce that im DONE with the production of my non-linear video editor and i am LOOKING FOR BETA TESTERS!!

Developing an nle has been a childhood dream of mine, and thanks to one of my profs i had the opportunity to work on one for my final assignment for my masters degree. Thats why im looking for people who can test it and give me feedback on its overall functionality, because im aiming to get the best possible grade out of it.

DOWNLOAD LINK HERE (virustotal analysis in case you dont trust zo‎r‎ua -- Fucking shame on you) & explanation below

this is a minimalist, journalism-oriented NLE called PressPlay. Of course in this sample video im using it for a completely different purpose than what it was meant for, which is video packages for both web and TV news programs (known professionally as VTRs in spain). therefore the only transitions, according to the TV standard, are fade-ins and outs (using both black and white colors) and the only effect available is chroma key. You can also implement chyrons (lower thirds and titles). This doesnt mean im not going to implement more functionality (namely keyframes and color correction) in the future though! im always open to expanding it to make it as comfortable for the end user as possible

this was developed in response to the industry standard which is a hellish NLE called Avid Media Composer which, by the way, nearly fucking toasted my PC once (by installing a corrupted driver). But thats a whole different story.

The point is many of my classmates and coworkers were deeply troubled and confused by the sheer complexity of that program, and yet it is the vademecum of all journalists and media workers worldwide, who often have to use it in their jobs, often under a lot of pressure to put out video packages as fast as possible. Thats why i came up with an alternative, more straightforward solution which should reduce editing times and simplify everything while preserving the basic elements that all video packages should have

So yeah, if you feel like messing around with it and giving me some honest feedback, id really appreciate it, mostly because i also gotta work on an essay for this project and any constructive criticism would be very helpful to me. Thank you.

[thistlerock]

Was thinking about Fabian and Riz a lot. I love them they make me sick. Thought I'd share cause I'm not finishing any fics ever lmao.

Side note; in the beautiful kingdom of my mind both of these guys are aromantic (though Fabian is super romance positive) and these interactions are (queer)platonic to me. But hey read it however you want.

I want half asleep Fabian at a sleepover with The Ball, listening to him rant about his newest case, or schoolwork, or whatever he's working himself up about this time. But it's like three am and Riz is so visibly exhausted (and Fabian wants to sleep too! Usually he has a strict schedule, smh) because he's slept a combined five hours in the last three days he goes "You're gonna do great/figure it out, I believe in you. Now shut the fuck up and go to sleep." And it's like. Not even a conscious thing he just instinctively gives The Ball a bardic. Riz feels it. Pauses. Blinks. Smiles. "That's not gonna last until tomorrow." In the SOFTEST voice do you understand. "Then I'll just give you a new one when you need it." And he says it in this tone that makes Riz feel like throwing up (positive) because it sound as if it were obvious — and it is. There's something deeply comforting about the absolute confidence that half-asleep Fabian has in the fact that yeah, tomorrow and the day after that and for however long it takes they will still be friends. And close. And Fabian will still believe in him.

And then Riz lets himself be dragged into bed (they share because if you both have sleep related trauma and the worst abandonment issues ever then you have to cuddle with the homies for comfort.)

I want Fabian and Riz very very non sexually sharing a shower. Maybe they just got back from an adventuring assignment, and Riz is caked in dirt and maybe a little bit of dried blood, and Fabian uses the opportunity for what it is. "Can I do your hair again? I'll wash it." "Sure." (I think it's curly and he doesn't really. Treat it like you're supposed to. Fabian is the only reason it's kinda gotten better. Riz doesn't care that much but he like, indulges him. Cause for some reason Fabian seems to think it's a big deal.) (and it IS. Hair care IS a big deal to Fabian. Separate post I'm insane about him.) And next thing Riz knows he's sitting in his best friend's fancy bathroom and there's expensive smelling product in his hair and he's naked but Fabian isn't being weird about it, he's just scrubbing dirt off of his back because he totally lied when he said it's just about the hair. The Ball doesn't super take care of himself so Fabian jumps at any opportunity to get in there. And it's. Nice. Acts of service are a whole thing. I think for Fabian that's the love language that feels the most foreign, I think it's been so hard for him to unlearn selfishness and bluster even partially, I think he tries. I think he does this thing for his best friend because he loves him, and he expects nothing in return — not even praise. Not even praise even though that's the one thing he's always angling for. And they're both so quiet. And the water is warm.

I want Fabian waking up after a party with the worst hangover. Skull splitting open I want to die type hangover. I want him to wonder, idly, if his mother is going to come and drag him out to train anyway. It'd be dreadful, and yet he desperately wishes she would, because that'd mean she's invested in his training and would have to make an active effort to spend time with him rather than the other way around. I want him to be a little disappointed because he knows it won't happen. I want his heart to ache. But then "Oh, are you awake?" and his best friend is sitting at the end of his bed. Watching him with concern, lowering his voice because he figures Fabian is sensitive right now, having closed the curtains and stuff for the same reason, already offering him water and pain killers. All that. Just because.

"Why are you still here, The Ball?" "Why wouldn't I be? I promised to stay." Because last night Fabian, after being dragged to bed by a concerned Riz and halfway through a mental breakdown (because hey. Turns out he shouldn't have smoked whatever Durden was offering after already being so fucking drunk his body is not having a good time) begged his friend not to leave. So he didn't. In fact Riz stayed with him in bed for hours, holding him because he seemed like he'd need it, but he got antsy some time in the morning and had to get up. And he's sorry for that! But he didn't leave. "Not leaving" is kind of a vague promise he wasn't sure of the exact ramifications but like he stayed in the room until he had to piss- woah Fabian why do you look like you're about to cry did I say something wrong.

Like that. I want that. I want them to love each other so much. Something about non-sexual physical intimacy always gets me. Okay. Oh to have the kind of love that's familiar and comfortable and doesn't come with any expectations. Oh to have a friendship that doesn't have to be "more" because it's already everything. Who decided romance is "more" anyway. Throwing up. I am so ill about them.

[stxrr-strxckk]

Shakedown, 1979 1997!

(General South Park Headcannons)

A/N: Just some silly little headcannons of our favorite main 3 boys! These are non romantic but I can make romantic ones too if y'all want! Cartman isn't included in this except for little cameos he makes in the other hcs.

Any warnings?: Cartman being Cartman, a lot of swearing (obviously), Cartman is just really antisemitic.

What's on the record player?: 1979; The Smashing Pumpkins

Stan Marsh...

✭Stan and Kyle are super close in height. Like, down to the millimeter. You know how some people get measured against wood beams and there's little marks for each age? Stan and Kyle have one they share in Stan's house. Blue marks are Stan, Green marks are Kyle. He made Kyle keep his hat on when they measured since his hair gave him extra height.

"See? I'm taller!" Kyle grinned triumphantly.

"No way, dumbass. It's just that stupid fucking hair, right Cartman?" Stan looked over at his friends for approval.

Cartman nodded. "Yeah, it's that jewey ass hair, Kyle. It makes you seem taller and your nose seem smaller." Kenny's muffled snickers could be heard through his jacket.

"That isn't true, fatass!"

"Yeah stop making fun of his big nose Cartman, he can't help the fact he looks like his bitchass mom." Stan laughed, and Kyle shoved him.

"Hey! Not cool dude, that's my mom you're talking about!"

"Okay, okay, just push your hair down so we can prove I'm taller."

"No way man."

✭Once he gets older, Stan grows facial hair crazy fast. He has to shave every 2 days, at least. One time his razor broke and he had to wait until he got paid to get a new one. He grew the ugliest mustache known to man and Cartman started calling him Chewbacca. His mom said he looked just like a younger version of his father, and that's when he knew he had to get rid of it soon as possible. He wound up finding a waxing kit and tried to get rid of it that way. Long story short, he wound up with half a mustache and burns all over his upper lip. His mom had to let him use her razor to get rid of the rest of the hair. He refuses to touch any kind of wax now.

✭Listens to bands like Weezer and Blink 182, convinced their songs are made for him. "It's just like my life-" no it isn't. You're just a loser.

✭Not a very athletic guy. He's tried every sport under the sun(his parents made him), they're just not for him. He tried drama club too; hated the acting but liked the tech aspect. He ran spotlight for a few productions but ended up quitting because of how much the other guys made fun of him.

✭He had to play cello when he was younger, and quit the moment he started high school. He still knows a few songs and was pretty good.

✭He's insecure about his thick eyebrows and nose. He has a greek nose and thinks it's a lot larger than it is. Kyle judges him every time he starts talking about it.

"No, it sticks out so much! See?"

"You're joking, right?"

"No, it's so noticeable!"

"Dude. At least yours is straight. Mine is hooked. Hooked. You think I like this fuckin' thing in the middle of my face? Hell no!"

✭Whenever he's pissed at Kyle he ends up complaining to Kenny since he can keep secrets better than Cartman (and because people can never tell what Kenny's saying)

"And then he said 'grow up Stan, it's not too big a deal!' Like he wasn't just hung up about some girl rejecting him- At least me and Wendy actually dated! You know who wants to date him? No one! He's never even had a girlfriend. Yeah, you know that girl from Canada who he talked to online for a whole year before she ghosted him? That was a fake account me and the guys made to troll him. He never realized. And what's funnier is that-"

"Dude, you've been talking for like, ten hours. I need to get to sleep, it's a school night.

"Right. Sorry. But can I just say-"

"Out."

"Alright, I'm leaving. But Kyle's such a dick, he won't even stand up to his mom for me-."

Kenny has to push him out the door and lock it so he can't get back in. Then Stan and Kyle make up a week later and everything goes back to normal.

✭Was actually convinced he had superpowers when he was younger, around 5 or 6. He predicted it would rain once and all of a sudden he thinks he controls the weather. He told the guys and when they called his bluff he got super pissed and made everyone on the playground watch as he used his weather powers to try and make lightning strike. He ended up falling off the monkey bars and he now refuses to go anywhere near them.

Kyle Broflovski...

✭Puberty hit him like a truck. And not in a good way. All of a sudden he's 8 inches taller, growing a ratty mustache, with some of the worst acne and and a voice that cracks like no other. (Cartman makes fun of his voice until his starts cracking too. The hypocrisy is wild.) He was also the first in the group to start puberty. He thought he'd feel so mature and cool but ended up hating it.

✭Thankfully, now that he's taller he can actually play basketball without getting blocked by everyone. He's the tallest in the group, around 6'2 or so.

✭He has prescription glasses but never wears them because he thinks they make him look dorky. They do, but that's only because his mom picked out the thickest frames so they wouldn't break easily. When he's wearing glasses, he looks like Bart Simpson in the episode The Last Temptation of Homer, when he gets all nerdy and shit. Kyle even has the orthopedic shoes to boot.

✭He runs a dnd campaign for him, Stan, Kenny, Tweek, Craig, and Token. He used to invite Cartman but after his millionth tantrum they decided it was better without him. Kyle usually dms and sometimes writes a few of his own oneshots for the gang to do.

"Okay, as you trudge through the jungles of Chult, an animalistic cry pierces the air. Everyone roll an intelligence check!"

"This better not be another one of those dinosaurs," Stan groaned. "I just got mauled by one back there."

"Roll perception and you'll find out!" Kyle replied with a grin. "The tomb isn't far, guys. This should be one of your last encounters."

"Wait, we're not even at the tomb yet?!" Tweek's eyes widened. "We've been in this jungle for days!"

"I told you guys Tomb of Annihilation wasn't going to be an easy adventure." Kyle shrugged, before going back to business. "Okay; Craig and Token: while the rest of your party shrugs it off as just another monster you'd rather not deal with right now, you two recognize the call as a Hydra's- and it sounds hungry."

"A hydra? Dude, we are so fucked!" Stan yelled.

"Those things have like, 20 heads! Oh fuck!" Tweek added. A residual groan was heard around the table as the boys realized the danger they were in.

"This sucks ass, Kyle. How'd you talk us into this adventure? We shoulda done Curse of Strahd..." Token complained.

"Mm hmm!" Kenny agreed, crossing his arms.

"Come on guys, I believe in you! It doesn't even have that many hit points!"

"I hate to admit it, but we could really use Cartman's fireball right now." Craig sighed.

"Hey, we all agreed. He's never invited back. Not after the massacre..." Kyle shuddered.

"You're right. We'll just have to hope Princess Kenny can charm this thing." Stan nodded.

(Little bonus: Stan is a fighter, Token is a warlock, Craig is a ranger, Tweek is a paladin, Kenny doesn't have a main class he likes but mostly plays rogues or bards. Kyle usually plays as a sorcerer when he's not dming and when he's invited Cartman plays a wizard.)

✭Kyle doesn't seem like it but he actually is kind of strong. Yeah he's lanky and uncoordinated, but he can throw a pretty good right hook. He's done boxing for years. Started because he wanted to get Cartman to quit making fun of him. He's pretty fast too- he tried track out in middle and high school. He's good at jumping hurdles because of his long legs.

✭He has braces and the amount of food that gets stuck in them is criminal. He starts carrying around a little compact (the ones with two mirrors) just to make sure his teeth are clean after lunch and Cartman calls him gay for it.

"Wow Kyle, I didn't think you could get any gayer but here we are." Cartman said at lunch as Kyle whipped out a little compact.

"Shut up fatass, I'm just making sure I don't have food in my teeth like you always do."

"Ey! I do NOT have food in my teeth, thankyouverymuch." Cartman crossed his arms in a huff.

"Yeah, cus you're too busy eating everything that gets stuck in your mouth, fatboy." Stan said, Kenny laughing in agreement.

"I already told you, I'm just big boned! You're just jealous that my mom cooks me good food, not that jewey stuff Kyle always has."

"Fuck off Cartman, you'd probably eat that too."

"Yeah, no way dude. I like my food American, thank you very much."

"Dude. That's so racist."

"Oh, I'm sorry, is it racist to want to eat normal, all-American food?

✭Hear me out on this one: He's fluent in brainrot. Says skibidi on the regular, refers to himself as a sigma rizzler, all that shit. Since he has to babysit Ike all the time he's pretty caught up on gen alpha slang (Ike watches skibidi toilet unironically. He makes Kyle watch it with him). He started using it around Cartman who was convinced he made it all up. Him, Stan, and Kenny had a field day with it.

"Dude, that's so skibidi!"

"Kyle. What the fuck are you saying."

"You know, skibdi. Like, the thing on tiktok?"

"Don't tell me you don't speak brainrot, Cartman."

"I- I do too! I just... Didn't understand Kyle with his gay ass voice.

"My voice isn't gay, you gooner!"

"Hey! I'm not the gooner, you are, you... gooner!"

✭He barely ever gets haircuts. When he does, his mom just puts a bowl on his head and cuts it herself. It's part of the reason he started constantly wearing his hat. If you've seen that scene from pen15 where Maya gets her hair cut, it's just like that.

"Mom, you promise you won't go too short this time?"

"Of course bubby! It'll look the same as always, I promise."

"Mom- the clippers-"

"Shh, I know Kyle, just trust mommy."

"But the guard-"

"Trust mommy, Kyle."

"It's not the right one- it's too short-"

"No, it's okay! Trust me, I've done this more times than I can- oh."

"What? Is it bad?"

"Uh- bubby, just remember, you have a very handsome face, and if any of the boys say anything about your hair-"

"Oh, no. It's bad."

"No! No, it's just- it'll take some getting used to."

"Let me see. Where's the mirror?"

"Uh- maybe it's best if you just... Put your hat back on..."

✭He can't talk to girls for shit. Resorts to online chatrooms to try and flirt. Has gotten catfished 13 times. At least 3 of them were Cartman.

"No, Stan, I swear! She's real! Her name's Daisy, and she lives in Florida. She says she really wants to meet me, too! So I saved up for months and sent her 1500 for a first class plane ticket here. Check it out, she's pretty cute, right?"

"...Dude. That's Taylor Swift."

"Again?!"

Kenny McCormick...

✭He's a biter. And I don't even mean in a "ooh so freaky and kinky" way, I mean in a "he once bit Cartman so hard he peed his pants and refused to be within 5 feet of Kenny for a week."

✭When he gets older he ends up growing his hair out into a kind of mullet-wolf cut thing, he looks like Kurt Cobain.

✭He's actually pretty smart. He just doesn't think school is that important for him and doesn't wanna try too hard and get unwanted attention for being smart. Purposely gets Bs and Cs so his friends won't beg him for answers.

✭starts giving himself piercings once he's older. He's too poor to get them from a professional so he just uses old needles and snow to numb the pain. They almost always get infected.

✭Draws penises on his friends homework so they get in trouble when they turn it in.

"Yeah, and then she was all like- Dude!"

"What?"

"Again? Mr. Garrison is gonna collect this any second! You really had to draw a dick on it?"

"Heh, you gotta admit stan, it's pretty funny."

"Shut up fatboy, he drew it on your paper too."

"Wha- hey!"

✭He's a scrappy fighter. If a kid tries to fight him, he's biting, scratching, hair pulling, everything. 9 times out of 10 he wins and the other kid winds up absolutely wrecked. Once head-butted someone so hard he knocked out the kid's teeth. Now nobody fucks with him.

✭He was the only member of Moop who actually stuck with making music after the whole strike. He's the most musically inclined of the main 4. Wrote a few of his own songs but most of the lyrics were about loving boobs and pussy so record companies didn't end up signing him.

✭We all know he plays drums, but he also started learning electric guitar when he started his solo career. Can't sing for shit though (unless it's opera), so he tries using autotune. It just makes him sound worse.

✭He's the only member of the main 4 who's nice to Butters. Not just because he feels guilty he's a loser, but because he actually enjoys hanging out with him and how genuinely nice Butters is. The two are actually pretty good friends, Butters gets his mom to pack him extra food he gives to Kenny so he and Karen don't end up going hungry.

✭Was 100% the kid who taught everyone what sex was. Also brought his dad's nudie mags to school and showed all the guys.

"Gross, dude! What is that?"

"I dunno, I found it in my dad's room. All the girls inside are showing their boobs! Check it out!"

"Eww, why are they so pointy?"

"Because, Kyle, girls boobs start out pointy and then, once they turn 30, they get all saggy, like your mom's."

"Gross, dude! Don't talk about my mom's boobs."

"Yeah, don't talk about Kyle's mom's saggy boobs Cartman."

"Stan!"

"What? I'm defending you!"

"Hey guys, you wanna know how babies are made?"

✭As he gets older he starts to see through all of Eric's bullshit like the other guys, but still supports his ideas more than Stan and Kyle. He doesn't wanna just abandon him.

✭Amazing with kids. Shockingly so. He basically raises Karen on his own, so he knows how how to deal with kids better than the other guys. He tried to start a babysitting business after he realized how much money he could make, but if fell apart after Cartman joined and started to get the kids he babysitted involved in a ponzi scheme.

"Cartman, you did WHAT?"

"Nothing! I just had an idea..."

"Oh god, we're screwed."

"Cartman, WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"I just thought, if people invested in our business we could get them to keep hiring us, and we can get them to invest by making them give us money in exchange for more money back, and instead of actually giving them our money, we'd just give them other people's money who also invested, and then we'd have infinite money!"

"Cartman you dumbass! You ruined my business! We're bankrupt now!"

"Ohhh, I'm sorry Kenny! I just wanted to get us infinite money! But I guess if you don't need my genius ideas, I'll just start my own babysitting business and steal all your clients. Is that what you want?"

"If it means you'll leave us the fuck alone, then yeah."

A/N: Hope y'all like these hcs! I'll probably make romantic ones soon. I'm already working on some more South Park stuff, I got a few requests I'm really excited to write! Please like, follow, and repost! XX, Starr!

Wordcount:2747

[kibbles-bits]

any voxval fics you’d recommend?

Ah, yes, voxval fics... The one ship that finally made me cave and read explicit stuff. I am now numb to everything.

Everything.

I'll only be posting completed fics. Warnings, almost all of these are explicit. A couple also have Angel, you know, suffering.

And please mind the tags.

First off is a couple of favs that I always go back for a reread:

Corrupted Love by DoveFactory (Words: 149,495)

In a moment of blind desperation to one-up Alastor, Vox puts himself in a compromising situation that leaves him worse for wear. His state triggers something in Valentino who decides to change the nature of their relationship.

The title and summary of this is so misleading I thought it was going to be a dark fic but nope. The Vees are a bunch of goobers and Valentino always wins. I would scream about this every time it updated. I love the characterizations and their banter it almost made me forget there's sex in like every chapter. Honestly I wish there was more tags referencing the character/story stuff.

Virtual Reality by passthevoxcord (Words: 7,634)

Vox gets tired of his cybernetic biology being a barrier to his sex life, so he starts a new project to fuck Valentino in VR. Val will try anything once, but he has something else in mind.

This one ends up being so sweet I want to die. passthevoxcord's other fic, Only a Shadow, drives me nuts but its a WIP and hasn't actually gotten to the voxval yet.

choke behind a smile by gloriousmonsters (Words: 19,881)

"I'm not scared by extreme, although I doubt I'll find it interesting. What is it?" Valentino's eyes narrow slyly over his smile. "If you aren't scared, why do you need a warning?" Vox has everything under control in his new business partnership with benefits. His emotions, his unfortunate desires, the little mind games they play. Even Valentino himself. When Val offers an invitation to a special show he's performing, Vox knows it's a dare, and knows he has to take it, show Val that he can't be scared or destabilized. He has no idea of how deep under his skin the show will get.

Everyone's so normal. I love this Valentino. There's another Valvel fic that has the same Valentino I also recommend called bad girls go backstage.

Great Expectations by MarenRose (Words: 11,280)

“It’s his goal. Those three simple words. If he could get to hear them once, could let the reality of their meaning and spoken existence occupy his mind for only a few indiscernible moments, then maybe, Vox could learn to see the appeal of this god forsaken holiday. He might even learn to ‘love’ it too.” Or: Vox hates Valentine’s Days. His prick of a ‘wife’ is just too damn hard to please.

This miiiight have been the fic that made me Lock In on voxval? I'm not sure. It's sweet. Alastor is hilarious.

biting keeps your words at bay by Subedarling (Words: 1,511)

“You can’t hit me,” Valentino says. He’s practically vibrating with rage. “You’re not allowed to—you can’t hit me!” Vox sneers, cruel and mocking and hopefully masking the way his heart is breaking apart inside his chest. “Baby, I can do whatever the hell I want.” A decade into their partnership, Vox and Valentino have their first and last physical fight.

This might be the only non-explicit fic in this list. I am all for Val being the worst just because he's Like That. But I will not say no to an implied tragic backstory. I read this one a lot and want to die. Can I draw this. I want to draw this. Oh my god I have free time I can totally draw this...

And my other recs:

Just For The Record by PeppermintWalrus (Words: 13,795)

Vox is thrilled about his new film enterprise with his business partner, ready to build a lucrative empire for the denizens of hell to experience true cinema, in the only genre their depraved minds desire. There’s just one problem that he finds out too late; Valentino has never filmed porn before. Vox decides that some... hands-on teaching, is necessary to save their production.

Yeah you read that right.

a putrid feeling that i've addressed by spoondrifts (Words: 5,162)

They weren’t a couple because Valentino was pathologically noncommittal and Vox simply knew better. He tried the whole romance thing with a certain radio demon a few decades back, and he’d learned his damn lesson. Hell just wasn’t the place for that sort of cutesy bullshit. Also, he was pretty sure that Valentino was straight up incapable of love, which was both par for the course for Vox’s friendships and amazingly convenient—things couldn’t get complicated if there was nothing to complicate in the first place. Or: Full Moon, Vox/Val edition.

Haha I love pain. I lied, this is the second non-explicit fic.

Little Miss Hellion by DoveFactory (Words: 10,657)

Hell’s worst married couple spends a day of family bonding at a beauty pageant doing whatever it takes to make sure their daughter takes home the crown, because failure is never an option for the Vees. Pilot AU where Vox and Valentino are married and Velvette is their adopted daughter.

It's more Vees than voxval but they're married so.

The Art of Pimping by MarenRose (Words: 9,161)

Desperate to close a deal with one of the most lucrative investors in Pride, Vox does the unthinkable and pimps out Valentino for a one-time date. What could go wrong?

Val's attitude in this one is funny and Vox. Yeah. Vox made a mistake.

You Found Me by passthevoxcord (Words: 4,338)

Long before Velvette came along, it was just them. Vox and Valentino. Valentino and Vox.

Sobbing.

Something Less Than Dishonest by daphnerunning, Galiko (Words: 33,931)

He isn’t expecting the way Valentino walks, for some reason. Maybe it’s the extra limbs. Maybe it’s the wings. Maybe it’s the heels. Vox had skipped briefly through a few of the slut’s movies, for research, and isn’t expecting the way Valentino moves in person to feel so… Different. “…You must be my four o’clock,” he says, standing and offering a hand. Oh, shit, he’s huge. Valentino towers over him, easily would without the stripper heels. Vox is not afraid of heights.

Vox is so offensive in this it loops back around to hilarious.

Red Skies and Valentino by alternatedoom (Words: 86,050)

"Vox and I are special friends, doll. Go give him a kiss," Val says to the boy.

Angel does not have a good time. But the Voxval is nice.

before you go by xoTsundoku (Words: 4,426)

Before Alastor came into their lives, Vox and Valentino were happy. Maybe they still can be.

A Farewell to Ghosts by Accidental_Ducky (Words: 37,149)

"What do you think that is," Vox demands, pointing at the new guy. Valentino turns, eyes raking greedily over the man's body. He's gorgeous, skinny in a heroin chic way with big blue eyes and blond hair that falls just so across his eyes. "Hot." "Don't fucking call the ghost hot!"

The only human AU I've liked so far. Love the character interactions. Vox and Val are hilarious.

God I hope I didn't miss any. There's definitely some good WIP ones out there.

[minju4won]

· first impression

pairing: nonidol enhypen x femreader!

non warnings

heeseung

you were a famous composer in the industry music, and every person who were interest in music knew you, and of course, heeseung did. you composed one of his favourite songs, and when he found out that he was going to work with you, he was excited to the point that he couldn´t stop thinking about you.

you entered the studio bowing for being late, but you didn´t expect was to find just a only one person in the room. you frowned.

"they´re gone?" you asked.

the person front of you stoop up and took off his hood.

"you are early"

your opened your mouth in surprise when you saw him. it was heeseung. of course you knew that you were going to work with him, but seeing him for the first time and alone, you wouldn´t expect it.

"i thought we were start at 11:00?"

"yeah, i thought that too" he said approaching you. "but apparently they got they time wrong"

"oh"

"i´m sorry, i´m heeseung"

"yeah, nice to meet you, i´m y/n"

"if you want we can start now, or do you prefer to wait them?"

you shook you head as you sat in the main chair "we can start"

heeseung swore you were the best songwriter he had ever worked with. he had a lot of fun and his expectations were met. and same for you, he was one of the best singer you had ever worked, and you let him know several times.

heeseung's heart stopped every time you complimented him.

time passed quickly and you had a better time with him each time when you heard that he was better than you expected. once they were done, heeseung left the singing room to sit next to you.

you were everything heeseung wanted, and he wasn't going to let you go.

"do you want us to go to the cafeteria? i invite"

jongseong

you worked in a cafeteria, every morning you had to endure the bad treatment of customers. yes, you knew that their jobs were bad, but did you have to put up with their bad mood?

you tried not roll your eyes.

"i didn't order coffee with milk, i ordered it with three milks"

"sir, the coffee is the three milks" you said with calm "just see that"

"the only thing i can see is seeing you do your job badly" the man shouted "call the manager, i want to tell him how incompetent his workers are."

you pressed your lips harshly, you couldn't stand that job anymore.

why did it have to be so difficult?

you could only look down when you heard the man's insults, the entire cafeteria was watching you. they were definitely going to fire you.

"do you think these are ways to treat a lady, sir?" asked a voice unknown to you, you looked up and could see a man your age. "if you don't like coffee you can just leave."

the sir looked at the man with confusion.

"i just want a good coffee, but this girl is incompetent"

"i repeat, if you don't like coffee, why don't you leave?"

you frowned when you heard him, why was he defending you?

you could see the man turn around and leave grumbling. the man your age looked at you and smiled at you.

"thanks" you murmured.

you saw how the man scratched his head nervously.

"do you want to have coffee with me? maybe you can forget the shame"

you narrowed your eyes, was he flirting with you?

"sure"

jaehyun

you were new in south korea, so thats mean you can't read korean. every time you had to be away from home you hated it, and that day was one of them.

you had been trying to translate the ingredients of a product for half an hour, not even the translator understood it. it was exhausted.

"noodles with onion? what the hell does it say here" you murmured with anger.

you could feel a presence next to you, but you decided to ignore it.

"who eats noodles with onion? there is no way this is what it says"

you mumbled a couple of expletives while clutching your head in frustration.

"do you need any help?" you listened a voice in your left.

"no thanks"

but he didn't give up.

"i don't see you very sure"

you looked up and saw a pretty face your age. you grimaced when you saw it.

"do you speak korean?

"yeah"

"but your accent?"

"i can speak korean very well" you nodded.

"what... what does it say here?"

the man took the packaging to read the ingredients. you bit your lower lip in shame.

"spicy tomato sauce noodles with tuna"

you nodded unsurely, you looked at your hands with shame.

"thanks, and... do you know how much this would be in dollars?"

the man crouched down and stood next to you, you couldn't help but hold your breath.

"six dollars"

you immediately looked at him "that thing six dollars?"

the man smile when he heard you.

"yeah"

you shook your head and stood up.

"i can not buy that"

the man imitated you. "well i can buy that and then you pay me"

"excuse me?"

"can you give me your number? i mean for transfer"

sunghoon

you couldn't wait to meet your new figure skating partner. your coach said he was one of the best skaters in the country.

you heard footsteps and voices behind you. you quickly turned around and could see a tall man. you looked at your coach with surprise, you were going to train with the fuckin park sunghoon?

"hi, i´m sunghoon, your new partner"

you nodded with nervousness.

"i´m y/n, nice to meet you"

"well, can we practice? i want to see your chemistry" both of you nodded and at the same time they put on their skates. both entered the ice rink and warmed up separately. you could feel your heart beating fast, were you going to train with sunghoon? you had never imagined it.

after you finished stretching, you walked over to your new partner and you both practiced new steps together.

it was as if they had practiced for years, as if they were a soul.

after several hours of training and rest, you were finally taking off your skates.

you could feel Sunghoon sit next to you.

"hey"

"hey"

"do you want to come practice tomorrow?"

you frowned.

"but tomorrow there is no practice"

"yah, i know, but i want to practice more steps, in addition to improving our chemistry. and after practice we can go have something to drink, do you want?"

you smile at him.

"of course i want"

@ minju4won do not copy!!

[keyofjetwolf]

Now that it's been a couple of days, do you have any structured commentary about the Sailor Moon Live, or is it still just (excited screaming)?

CAN SCREAMING FOREVER WORK AS A RESPONSE

That doesn't pass for structure, huh? Fair. Okay well let's spew some word-based vomit all over things. That's The Jet Wolf Way.

Spoilers for the Sailor Moon Super Live 2025 North American (read: JUST U.S. SORRY CANADA YOU'RE A PENGUIN TO US NOW) under the cut.

By which I mean specific production details, because it's the fucking Dark Kingdom plot AGAIN so like how realistically spoiled can you possibly be on that by this point.

So first and foremost let me say that I am so out of the loop that I had no idea there was a new Sailor Moon musical production AT ALL, let alone that it was coming to the States. States to which I could reasonably have access! When Doc dropped this on me, approximately three hours I think before I was going to be sitting there in a seat all of my very own, I was absolutely 100% without a single word for I think a good minute.

Life necessitated a massive shift in my day-to-day focus of course, but matters of the heart give far fewer shits. My girls are still my motherfucking girls, and while the last few years have left me with far less time and energy to scream, the desire to do so remains strong and vibrant. Midge knows each of the Inners by name, because she sees them constantly on my computer wallpapers, art on my refrigerator, the blanket that's now functionally hers. "Who's the best character in Sailor Moon?" is met, with about 95% unprompted success, with a resounding "REI HINO!!", because she's my medically perfect genius baby (and also perhaps coached on this not infrequently).

My heart is and continues to be a kaleidoscope, is what I'm trying to say. And this was something I've wanted to do, to see a production live and in person, and NEVER thought I'd have the opportunity to do. Then suddenly, not only did I learn it was happening, right here, right now, but I WOULD BE THERE. I'm not sure I can properly articulate the sudden unexpected magnitude of feelings. I have no idea what my fucking face looked like, but I hope for Doc's sake, it was pretty great.

I actually continued in a weird place of disbelief up until the very moment it began. Despite the ticket, despite the marquee, despite the incredibly thoughtful and gorgeous and wonderful Mars sweater Doc fucking MADE ME. Despite the flow of other nerds around us, despite the photo op, despite the literally unbelievable merchandise line (the shit was up with that my GOD), despite the set, despite the light, despite the literal stage with the literal signage that literally said "Sailor Moon".

LOOK AT THAT FAKE FUCKING NEWS, I apparently thought to myself.

It wasn't until the house lights went down and the Usagi body double popped her giant moon did it slam into me. It's happening, AND I AM HERE TO SEE IT.

I absolutely 100000% did not tear up a little when Rei came out, and that non-existent moistening in no way increased as she proceeded to give Usagi shit for the entire duration of her intro. No sir no ma'am, I'm both a rock and an island, you know.

The story itself, I mean -- like I said, it's the Dark Kingdom. AGAIN. But it's amazing how actually being there, being part of the whole thing? It didn't matter. It was almost ... Like, I will always always always be team "Give me something new jesus fucking wept I am begging you" for this franchise. But the fact that I knew every single beat of this tired out overplayed thing and so too did 2500 of my closest friends ... It freed me from demands. It wasn't going to be different, so it also wouldn't let me down in new and exciting ways GLARING AT YOU FOREVER CRYSTAL.

I think if this were a regular thing, this going to watch the musical LIVE and IN PERSON, then yeah, moving exactly nowhere in 30+ years would feel pale and stagnant. But we're not there, nowhere near, and so it wasn't that at all. It wasn't dull. It was home.

Because I'm me, and because I don't have the at-home freedom to pause and rewind and spend hours studying a single scene and repeatedly rewatching to catch every single detail of every single character, I of course played the "WHERE'S REI WHAT'S REI DOING" game every single second the opportunity presented itself. Consequently, I enjoyed no small amount of consistent badassery and flagrant Usagi-based protective shenanigans, including bodily shoving her this way and that and turning to snap at her when she was stupid and I was in pure heaven, kids.

I could absolutely have done with more Inners-based individual character stuff, but let's be honest, I'm basically an insatiable bottomless void there. When is enough enough? A: NEVER. But trying to be (relatively) fair and (grudgingly) concede it's not necessarily all about ME, I thought it did a good job with its balancing acts. Usagi kind of sucked in places, Mamoru's dick wasn't perpetually shoved in my mouth, the Shitennou weren't even IN the bloody thing so we didn't have to waste precious minutes there, AND MINAKO GOT TO STAB BERYL FUCK YEAH SHE DID. It even, for a couple seconds there, flirted with the idea of Beryl ALSO being stuck in a resurrection cycle, which I can't lie is intriguing as FUCK.

So yeah, I'd say I felt the production felt to me like a celebration, and for that, did its job SPECTACULARLY.

MY GIRLS

Special Bonus Awesome Notes:

Cabaret Beryl huh???? Talk about a thing I didn't know I needed but SO DID. What a magnificent way to have fun with something that might otherwise be either too slow or too dull. I legitimately didn't even realize the Shitennou weren't there until much later in the production; Beryl just FILLED the stage when she was there, and the delightfully ridiculous seasoning on the whole thing was all I needed to make the dish satisfying.

I know Holligay is a raging lesbian, but this bitch and whasserface playing Mamoru, fuck me.

I NEED NAY DESERVE THOSE TWIRLY SENSHI LIGHT THINGIES. The light peripheral game in this thing was strong as hell, and peaked exquisitely with those. From elements to symbols and back again. LOVED THEM. WANT THEM. MUST HAVE THEM. (blah blah blah Jetty you wouldn't know how to use them you'd kill yourself Jetty no blah blah)

In summation, what a glorious fucking time. I've actually been struggling a little bit with feeling I've not done anything to deserve what a wonderful, thoughtful, FUCKING UNDERHANDED AND UNTOPPABLE, gift was this experience. But I sure did get it, and I sure did love it, and it's mine now, so OH WELL I GUESS.

Allow me to leave you with this, the only tiny bit of video I took of the whole thing. Please enjoy: a) Holligay VERY CLEARLY joining in on the "Oshioki yo!" like a fucking weeb, b) how the video jumps dramatically at the opening strains of Moonlight Densetsu because the aforementioned Holligay jabbed not just her elbow but HER ENTIRE BODY into me, and c) that weeby cunt bellowing the opening syllable in "Sorry" as in "Sorry that I'm not honest" as she begins and will continue to sing the entire song in the correct tune but with the translated English lyrics. Longtime Yuri Hell's Kitchen fans, you might recognize this travesty.

IN CONCLUSION: REI HINO

[macabr3-barbi3]

A Practical Demonstration (Alastor/Reader)

The deal you made with Alastor leads to an unexpected demonstration.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54229351/chapters/137324059

(ayyo I never posted the first and second chapter of this so: here we go!) Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Tags: Sex Toys; Non Sex-Repulsed Alastor; Reader-Insert

“What in the nine rings is that shit?”

“Hi, Angel,” you greet him as he came into your room, not bothering to close the door fully behind him. “As always, nice of you to knock.” You’ve got a wide spread of documents scattered across the desk, various color schemes and books on light studies and all sorts of shit that Velvette had asked you to look into for her. You don’t mind helping out where you can but you had been at this for hours, and Angel showing up unannounced was always a good way to distract you when you were trying to work.

The demon shrugs. “Eh, ya get used to it,” he says with a grin, his sharp teeth coming into view, the gold one glinting in the light from your desk. “But for real, what is that thing?” He points to your nightstand, where the rose toy you neglected to put away sat on proud display.

You flush and race across the room, throwing the toy unceremoniously back inside. “It’s really nothing,” you tell him, and when he approaches you spread your arms out to try to keep him back. “Angel, come on-”

He’s sprouted his third set of arms to reach around you, opening the drawer and pulling your newest gift out from the top. “Come on now, ya don’t gotta be ashamed if it's a sex thing!” He lets it sit in his hand as he poses with the rest of his arms, blinking coyly at you in his new position. “I basically am a sex thing, baby, it don’t bother me none!” He holds it up to inspect, and when he brings it a little too close to his face you drag his arm back away. “Where’d ya get this thing?”

It was a gift from Velvette, something new that Vox and Valentino had created together that your friend had felt compelled to shove into your hands one day. “Keep it on the low, yeah?” She had said, an eyebrow raised and a cocky smirk on her face. “New product, can’t be lettin’ it get in the wrong hands but Satan knows ya ain’t gettin’ any action in that rickety joint of yours.” You had blushed and stammered and protested but ultimately had taken the damn thing, placing it on the nightstand in your room when you returned that day and not touching it beyond the one time you turned it on- just out of curiosity- and saw the force of the suction that it could generate.

“Velvette gave it to me, and it’s a sex toy,” you tell him, and he gives you a knowing look.

“Ahh, she’s still tryna get ya laid, huh?” You close your eyes and give him a tight nod. “She still doesn’t know about your thing for tall and freaky?”

You slam your hands over his mouth, eyes darting to the partially open door, not noticing the shadow that slipped into the room mere moments before. “Angel! Shut up!”

“Whaaaat?” He complains, pulling your hands away from his mouth. “It’s not like it’s a secret- pretty much everyone knows except the Strawberry Pimp himself, and-”

“And,” you interrupt him, taking the toy from his hands and throwing it back into the nightstand, “I would like to keep it that way. And don’t call him that,” you add as an afterthought.

Angel groans as he started walking away. “Spoilsport,” he calls over his shoulder. “Ya never let me have any fun.” He exits the room and purposely leaves the door fully open this time, and with an eye roll you follow him, sure that Charlie and Vaggie have dinner ready by now.

Alastor is there when you stroll into the dining room, his customary smile in place as he looks at the two of you. “Evening, friends!” He greets you, and you give him a smile back. “I’ve saved a seat for you, my dear,” he says, and pulls out the chair to the right of the one he normally sits in.

Your face flushes, and Angel snickers beside you as he goes around the table to sit by Husk. “You don’t have to do that, Alastor,” you tell him, and his grin sharpens dangerously.

“But of course I do,” he says smoothly, quietly, fanning out his napkin to sit across his lap as he sits. “What would dear Velvette think if she knew we weren’t getting along?”

Your spine stiffens, and a glance around the room confirms that no one else had heard him. It was the only point of contention between the two of you, really, the deal that you had made with him to keep Velvette safe from the insanity of the other Vees.

He owned your soul, and any of your knowledge of the more recent aspects of technology on Earth that could potentially help him in taking down Vox. In return, he would not specifically target Velvette when the final confrontation with the Vees took place, content with simply obliterating Vox and Valentino- provided that Velvette did not take any actions directly against him.

Velvette knew about your deal and the part you played in ensuring that when the Vees fell she would not be part of the carnage. They had thrown her under the bus not long before you came to the hotel, placing the blame for a series of footage and info leaks on her social media platforms, and she was more than happy to let someone else seek her revenge for her. She kept the benefits of working with the Vees- ‘no harm done,’ she had told them- and had the extra reassurance that when they fell she would remain on top. She knew you seemed happy enough to work with Alastor when he asked it of you, and was pleased that the deal didn’t seem to be a hardship on you.

He didn’t often use that against you like this though, like her safety was a bargaining chip that went hand in hand with his personal happiness or mood. You hadn’t even said anything bad! Just that he hadn’t needed to save you a seat beside him. You were thrilled, honestly, and just mostly nervous about him catching one of your looks or blushes when you watched him too closely.

You gave him a smile regardless. “Right. I appreciate the gesture then,” you say, and don’t see the way that his grin extends as he watches you sit and start reaching for the food laid out on the table.

Dinner is a strange affair. Throughout the night Alastor seems to keep finding excuses to turn his attention to you, only to harshly refute or ignore what you say in response. His leg is twitchy under the table and keeps knocking against yours, to the point that you turn essentially sideways in your seat to stop it from happening and talk to Vaggie and Charlie instead. At the end of the meal you walk yourself to your room slowly, tired beyond belief, confused and a bit hurt by Alastor’s behavior.

To your surprise, the Radio Demon is in your room when you close the door behind you. You startle a bit, not expecting him, and at the sound he looks up from where he sits at your desk, the documents you had for Velvette organized into a neat stack. “Hello, my dear!” He says, and rises from the chair to approach you. You look to the floor, not wanting him to see the hurt you’re sure is reflected there, but he places a sharp tipped finger under your chin and raises your head to look at him. His smile is softer, his eyes lowered a bit as he gazes down at you. 

“I want to apologize for my behavior at dinner,” he says, and you heave a relieved exhale. “Upon reflection I do see that my manners were abysmal, and there was no need to treat you in such a fashion.”

“It’s okay, sir,” you say, but when you start to take a step back more of his fingers come up to grip your face, holding you in place. “Um-”

“Ah ah ah,” he admonishes. “I wasn’t finished. In addition to my apology, I did have a query for you in regards to our deal.”

“Of course,” you tell him, and your heart has started beating a bit harder in your chest now with the way he’s looking at you. It’s impossible to tell when he’s angry with the smile most of the time, but his expression is even more unreadable now than it usually is. “What is it?”

He pauses for a moment. “Is there any form of technology that you are uncomfortable with the thought of showing or demonstrating for me?”

You blink slowly a couple times, the way you’ve seen Lucifer do when he doesn’t understand something that someone has said to him. “Uh. No, sir, I don’t think so.” Part of your ‘job description,’ as Alastor put it, was sometimes showing him non-television style technology and demonstrating its uses for him. You had gone over flip phones, Walkman's, CD players, pagers, and more recently some small tablets and compact computers. Digital cameras were out of the question, as were actual televisions whether they be old or new.

He didn’t like any of them, would have rather not bothered with the whole idea by his own admission. But he felt it necessary to understand what he could about the things that gave Vox so much power over people, and being the most recently dead at the Hotel you had the most up-to-date information. You were also one of the few who didn’t begrudge Alastor his preference for older tech- you had died while AI was a big thing on Earth, and that had freaked you out enough at times that you could appreciate hardwiring that didn’t talk back to you unprompted. Usually he stood a few feet away, far enough back that he could still watch without interrupting any frequencies, and allowed you to walk him through the various uses of the device.

“Lovely!” He says at your response, and then straightens up and crosses the room towards your bed of all places. “Now, I noticed at dinner that you’ve seemed quite out of sorts lately. Are you getting enough rest?”

What?

“Yes, sir, I think so,” you tell him, eying him warily. “I’ve been doing a lot of studying for Velvette to help with her shoots- light composition and all that, but-“

He makes a noise at you, something that sounds like an admonishment. “Come now,” he says, “you mustn’t be neglecting your beauty sleep for a Vee, even if she is the most tolerable of the lot!” He takes a seat on your bed- what? - and gently pats the pillow at the head. “In you go, my dear. I can’t have my little assistant lacking.”

You raise your eyebrows but decide not to argue on the matter. He’s been in a weird mood all night, and you really are quite tired at this point. You approach cautiously, climbing into bed the opposite side of where he sits. “If you say so, Alastor.” You lay back against the pillow, not bothering yet to get under the covers. “I’ll see you in the morning?” You glance towards the door, hoping that he will rise and leave you.

“Hahaha!” He laughs instead, rotating his body so that he can face you more fully. ‘No, I think not my dear! I’ll stay to make sure you get some proper shut-eye.”

Your heart beats faster. No way would you be able to actually sleep with him in the room. “That’s really okay,” you try to tell him, but when you sit up he places a hand gently on your shoulder and guides you back down to the pillow.

“Naughty girl,” he admonishes, and the words send a rush of heat across your face. “I truly insist! You rest up, and I’ll be right here to ensure that you do!”

“Oookay,” you finally agree, and lean back against the pillows stiffly. It's torture for a long few minutes, where you try to regulate your breathing and not focus on the fact that he’s so close to you, in your bed. Eventually though, despite your heartbeat in your throat, you do start to relax a bit.

“Hmmm.” Alastor hums where he sits in the bed next to you, and while his smile is, of course, still present, his eyes have a kind of far off look in them.

“Alastor? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, quite alright!” He says in his typical fashion. “But I must admit I find myself rather curious about something, and I was hoping you could help me gain some enlightenment.”

“Sure; however I can help.”

“Splendid!” He claps his hands together. Your nightstand is enveloped in shadows, and when it re-emerges your rose toy sits front and center on top. You choke on your spit a bit, sputtering as Alastor looks at you. “I heard you mention to Angel Dust that this is a ‘sex toy’ earlier, but you didn’t go into any further detail! What exactly is the function of such a thing?”

You were going to drop double dead right here in your bedroom, with Alastor sitting atop your sheets and looking curiously between you and the toy. “Oh God, uh…” He raises an eyebrow, prompting you to continue, but you can’t seem to find the words. “Shit, um, that’s not really- it’s kinda a private thing,” you sputter out, but he just continues to smile at you as you attempt to sink through the bed, through the floor, into a special kind of Hell reserved for moments as awkward as this one.

“I confess, my dear, a contribution to my terrible manners earlier stemmed from the idea that you might be holding back information.” He plucked the small device off the night stand and turned it this way and that in his hand. “When I thought about how you mentioned to Angel that it was a ‘sex toy,’ though, I realized that we had never established any sort of boundary as far as what kinds of technology you would show me per the confines of our deal!” He placed a hand to his forehead, an exaggerated face palm. “Which was quite silly of me, of course.”

You were going to stop breathing.

“Naturally I wouldn't want to make you do anything that would make you uncomfortable,” he continued, tucking the hand not holding the intimate technology under his chin to look at you thoughtfully. “And really, I doubt this is any kind of device that could do any true damage in the coming battle between myself and Vox. But one can never be too sure!” 

He holds it out to you, and though you take it with trembling hands you are still trying to explain. “Sir- Alastor - this is very much not the kind of technology that you would be interested in.”

“Oh but I am!” He assures you, and he sits cross legged now beside you. “I am quite interested in learning more about such a strange device. And did you not say that there was no technology that you were uncomfortable with demonstrating?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“And- pardon my eavesdropping, of course- did you not also tell Angel Dust that you received the device from Velvette, a known ally of my personal enemy and a demon bent on destroying me?”

You close your eyes tightly. This was too much. “Yes, I did. But-”

He makes a noise at you, like a parent would to an unruly child. “Well now, how am I to know that the device was not planted on Velvette by the others? Not merely a gift to a friend but something orchestrated by Vox to destroy me and everything I care for?” He reaches out a hand, brushing his fingers against your cheek. “I would so hate to see you harmed, my dear. Will you not show me how it works to ease my worried thoughts?”

Your breath is stuck in your throat as you swallow hard. You… suppose he raised a valid point, as awkward as you felt about it. You knew that despite your deal he felt some apprehension about allowing you to spend so much time with Velvette, even with what you were providing him with in return. If this was what it would take to ease some of the tension in his mind…

“I… okay,” you said finally on an exhale, and looked back down at the toy. Your voice trembled as you held it up for him to see. “Do you… I mean, usually you stand a little ways away, sir.”

His grin stretches up his face, eyes glowing red as he watches you fiddle with the object in your hand. “Oh no, darling, I’m quite content right here.”

“Right.” The blush on your face nearly permanent at this point, you rotate the device so that you can reach the button on the side. “There’s this little, um, button on the side to turn it on.” you press the button and the noise immediately starts, subtle but all too loud in the space between you and Alastor. Your cheeks are burning. “There are a few different uh, strength settings. For the. Suction.” The smile on Alastor’s face is etched in stone, and he leans closer to you as you cycle through the different speed settings. You can’t look at him anymore, dropping your eyes into your lap as you hold up the toy. “Next, uh…”

“What is the suction for, dear?”

When you look up you nearly jump back in shock; he’s moved even closer, his face right in front of yours when you’ve brought it up. “I- what?”

He places his hand over yours on the rose. “The suction. Whatever could it be for?” You try to lean back and he follows you, bent nearly in half as he does. “You could use-”

“No!” You push the toy into his hands, desperate for escape from this situation, but his smile doesn’t waver. “I mean, not no no, but- you don’t want to see that-”

“My dear.” He sets the device to the side, using one of his hands to bring your face up to look at him. He comes even closer, essentially crawling across the bed and hovering over you- what the fuck what the fuck- while you do your best to sink into the pillow. “As entertaining as it is to see you so flustered, I truly was looking for a more practical demonstration. Won’t you show me?”

If your heart flutters any harder it will burst from your chest. But he’s being so insistent that he doesn’t mind the nature of the device and that he wants an actual showing of how it’s used. You take a deep, shaky breath and commit to it- he’s asked, and you’ll indulge Alastor anything he asks of you. You reach to the side of him and take hold of the toy. “I haven’t, uh. Used it before,” you tell him.

 His eyes flash red and the smile stretches as he leans back the slightest bit. “No time like the present then!” He chirps, the static in his voice more pronounced that it had been thus far. When you move your hand to your waistband you hesitate, but his eyes zero in on the movement. “By all means,” he says, “don’t stop on my account.”

Another deep breath and you clench your eyes shut, not able to make eye contact with him as you remove your bottoms. With your eyes closed you don’t see the way that his widen; so focused on your own breathing that you don’t notice his sharp inhale at your movements as you settle back into the mattress. You keep your eyes closed as you bring the toy to your lower body, debate for a moment, and decide to position it before switching it on.

You’re hyperaware of Alastor’s gaze on you even without being able to see it. Your hands tremble as you place the small gap in the top over your clit, spreading your legs slightly for a better angle. A hand on your thigh makes your eyes fly open, and when you make eye contact with Alastor you clench them shut again, unable to do this knowing that he’s touching you-

Without realizing, your hands have tightened their grip on the toy and pressed the button to turn it onto the lowest suction strength. The sudden strong sucking on your most sensitive spot has a harsh moan tumbling from your lips, your head tossing back into the pillow and Alastor’s fingers tightening imperceptibly on your skin, claws digging in ever so slightly. It's so much and so sudden, almost overwhelming, and you’re not sure if you should curse Velvette or send her a gift basket.

“What does it feel like?” The static is gone from Alastor’s voice, and when you find the strength to open your eyes he’s much closer to your… demonstration than you would have expected him to be. Close enough to taste, not that he would, but the thought of it alone has your hips lifting from the bed, desperate for more that you know he won’t give you.

“It’s so- ugh, fuck,” is what you manage, and his eyes are hooded and focused so intently on you. You hope that this is giving him whatever information he was hoping to gather, because there was no way in any of the nine rings of Hell that you would ever be able to look him in the eyes again after this.

“Eloquent, darling,” he says, still no static to the words, and then his spare hand is placed over yours on the rose toy and jumping the suction up by a couple levels.

Another unbidden moan rips itself from your chest, your free hand clenching the sheets on the bed as Alastor holds your other to the toy on your clit. You’re soaked by this point, arousal dripping onto the sheets below you, and you’re so close already without the added stimulation of the harsher suction. “Fuck fuck fuck, God,” you get out between your panting, and his chuckle brings your gaze back to him, not realizing that your eyes had rolled back as you rode the waves of pleasure.

His other hand, the one that had been on your thigh, is now posed by your entrance, his glove discarded somewhere on the bed and his fingers mere centimeters away from where you suddenly, desperately want them to be. “There’s no God here, my dear,” he says darkly, “but perhaps I can be persuaded to worship you instead.” The suction increases again, his pressing of the button subtle, but it's too much, too much-

Your vision goes dark with the strength of your orgasm, the coil in your stomach snapping as you arch up with a drawn out gasp of his name. There’s static in the room, drowning out the sound of your cries as you ride through your release, and you can just barely see Alastor through your half-closed eyes, his own eyes lidded and his pupils blown wide as his smile is stretched as far as the sudden green stitches would allow. 

He holds down on the power button to turn the device off, pulling it- and his hands- away from your body. You allow your eyes to drift shut, breathing heavily as you lay back into the pillows. You can hear the vague sounds of something moving around, your nightstand opening and closing though the space on the bed is still dipped down from his weight. You’re trying to gather the strength to say something, to explain yourself maybe- because how could you let yourself get so far gone that you said his name mid-orgasm, Jesus- when the dip in the mattress disappears.

“Well, that was quite enlightening!” You hear him say, and when you drag your eyes open he’s standing on the other side of the bed, his expression totally normal aside from the permanent smile. “I do so appreciate your compliance, my dear, in helping to ease my mind about such a strange device.”

“I- yeah, sure,” you manage to get out without stuttering too much, and how composed he is now, while you are still half naked and heaving from your release, has your face flaming. “Anytime. Happy to help.”

His eyes lower. “Funny you should say that! I did notice a few more devices in your drawer- were these items gifts from Velvette as well?”

You had forgotten about the variety of other toys you kept near your bed, and your blush renews, your face hot at the thought of what he had seen. “No, sir,” you tell him, and he makes a little humming noise similar to the one he had earlier. 

You think about how his pupils had been so dilated, his fingers poised and ready to join the fray while you used the toy, and add as an afterthought- “Some of them are uh, VoxTech brand though.” You hoped you weren’t wrong, and the positively lecherous look that his smile takes on confirms it for you.

“How interesting!” he exclaims. “I suppose there may be other demonstrations in order then, hm? After all, it never hurts to be thorough!” He holds a hand out to you and you place your own into it, allowing him to bring it to his lips for a soft kiss. “And I do plan on being quite thorough, darling. I hope we can find the time to reconvene soon- in the meantime, sweet dreams.” 

With that he melts into shadows and vanishes, and no sooner than the black puddle on the floor disappeared have you whipped your phone out of the pocket of your discarded bottoms. You text Velvette first, a series of emojis that she has no hope of deciphering- her response of ‘TF r u on about???’ confirming that thought- and then Angel, asking for recommendations before pulling up the VoxTech website and taking a look at the options you don’t currently have in your drawer.

Like Alastor said- it doesn’t hurt to be thorough!

[zeroeightzeroone]

Hiyaa,

I have a request?

Producer!Bang chan x reader

Established relationship

Angst/comfort

Bang chan is in a bad mood so when he's at the studio he shouts at a co-worker he's close to/ 3racha member.

The co-worker/3racha member leaves and bumps into reader (who was already on the way to the studio? Because they haven't spent time together in a while?) and like hints at chan's bad mood.

Reader enters studio and chan starts to get mad but like reader is like "can I sit on your lap?" and he's like ❔ and she's like "you can continue working, can I sit on your lap?" and he's like "... Yeah?". Then it's fluff fluff fluff because fluff is the best 💯💯🚫🧢. Like a lot of fluff.

Oh also can you work in the reader saying something along the lines of "I get your frustrated but can you please not speak to me like that?" 🥺

And like chan gets more at peace/ relaxed/ less frustrated and apologies to coworker/ member and yeah and they all live happily ever after

creative differences - bang chan

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff/soft (eventually)

pairings: idol/producer!bang chan x fem!reader

warnings: chan is snappy, use of profanity

notes: thank you so much for your request <3 i hope i did it justice. this may also be the longest fic i've posted on this account with a little over 4.3k words

wc ~4.3 | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

since their debut, the company had already set expectations that the boys would have at least two comebacks a year–one in the first half of the year and another in the latter half. if they wanted to have more than two, they could, but two was the absolute least. the first comeback of this year for the boys went off without a hitch, resulting in topping multiple charts and receiving a handful of music show wins. however, the process for this second comeback of the year was already off to a rocky start, and the road ahead only looks winding and increasingly difficult.

the boys of 3racha have been in the studio every day for the past couple of weeks brainstorming and trying to put things together for the upcoming release. but they all seem to be hitting walls, or the ideas clash due to the amount of stress and pressures looming over their heads. so many people are counting on them–the members, producers, choreographers, and the jyp entertainment team, stay. and as the days in the studio pass, with the boys not agreeing on songs, arrangements, mixing, and more, the weight on their shoulders increases as well.

bang chan, the leader of stray kids and 3racha, felt the pressures even more so than changbin and han did.

currently, the three boys find themselves in chan's room inside the jyp entertainment building; chan is seated on the rolling chair in front of the multiple screens and mixing boards, while changbin and han are seated on either end of the couch. the three of them with their phones, laptops and notebooks opened up as they continue to brainstorm and discuss. but much like weeks prior, the progress isn't progressing, the progress is lacking or non-existent.

letting a deep sigh slip past his lips, han's eyebrows furrow in frustration as he scratches over old bullet points and writes new ones in his notebook, looking for ideas that could work. changbin is scrolling through his notes app and audio recording app, intermittently bringing the speakers at the bottom of his phone closer to his ear to hear the audio better as it's turned down to not disturb the other two, changbin tapping his fingers on his knee as he listens with his lip pursed in a tight line. chan is doing a mix of what the two are doing; writing and scratching out old and new ideas in his notebook, scrolling through his notes and audio recording apps to find something that they could work with, as well as filing through the production hardware on the system to find any drafts that could also be used to at the least, spark some inspiration.

at one point, chan feels like he's going to tug his hair out by the roots as he runs his fingers through his locks haphazardly. he's reaching the end of his patience; they've been working for weeks, and they can't even find a starting place for the comeback–he feels as if all the old material he finds in the apps aren't good enough, that they won't exceed the expectations or hype of the last comeback, that it won't even reach those expectations. it's frustrating chan to no end as he feels like he's reaching a dead end.

with a sigh, chan turns in his chair to discuss with han and changbin who are on the couch. when changbin notices this, he glances at han from the corner of his eye, surveys the atmosphere, and runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

"we need to figure something out," chan splutters out, his mind quite frantic, "we have to have some ideas–at least something?"

he looks between changbin and han on the couch, their faces look just as discontented and their minds are frantic but blank at the same time–mirroring chan's own face and mind. chan shuts his eyes in an attempt to calm down his bubbling emotions as he leans back into his chair.

"we could look through the demos again?" han throws a suggestion onto the table.

"which ones?" changbin questions.

han shrugs while at the same time he says, "all of them?"

"why would we look through demos we already vetoed?" chan scoffs, "that would be a complete waste of time."

"it's just a suggestion," han restates, this time his tone laced with hints of irritation, "maybe one of those vetoed demos could actually work; we just need to rework it."

"this isn't the first time we've gone through the demos in the past couple of weeks," chan reminds, "if one of those demos could actually work, we would've found it on the first or second round of looking."

"what demos are you thinking of specifically?" changbin asks han, who shrugs.

"i don't know, but what harm is there to look again?"

chan groans in agitation, not understanding why han is so adamant about looking through the demos again: "this would probably be the fourth time–why waste our time with a fifth? we want to make progress, looking for a fifth time is a complete waste of time."

the older boy's tone is sharp, prompting an eye roll from the youngest in the room, his arms going up in protest: " hey. it was just a suggestion–at least something to get the ball rolling." he reiterates chan's words from the beginning of the conversation.

"how is doing something that hasn't worked the past four times for a fifth going to work? if it didn't work a majority, if not, all the past times–it's not going to work," the tension in the room continues to build.

"wouldn't it be better to start from scratch instead of looking through ideas that we already decided weren't working?" changbin chimes in.

at this, han starts to feel like the two older boys are ganging up against him, and he defends himself quickly, "once again, it was just a suggestion. i don't see either of you suggesting anything."

changbin scoffs, "did I not just suggest starting from scratch instead of looking through rejected ideas?"

han turns his head to face changbin on the other end of the couch, "haven't we also been trying to start from scratch these past couple of weeks? that also hasn't been working–if it did, we wouldn't be having this conversation!"

"how are we supposed to start from scratch if we have no ideas?" chan asks in a matter-of-fact tone.

"if we look through the old demos, put some together or play around, then maybe we can find ideas," han speaks slowly as if he's trying to enunciate his point to drill it into the other two's heads, "it's better than sitting at our notebooks and laptops and writing down, absolutely nothing."

han's method of slowing down and enunciating seems to have gone through changbin's head as he begins to see han's point. if they can't conjure something up from nothing, they might as well try to conjure something up from their old demos or many recordings of melodies that have come to mind in the past. putting things together could trigger some inspiration.

"no, i think han has a point here," changbin states, "if we have no foundation or starting point, we can't build anything on top of it. at least with the old demos, we can continue to build off of what we have."

a deep breath expels from chan's lips as he listens to both han and changbin bounce words of agreement off each other for this working with old demos plan.

"again," chan says slowly, "if it didn't work the past four times, why would it work now? the odds are not in your favour."

"but there's still a chance it could work," han argues, "if there's a chance, why not take it?"

chan tongues at his cheek, "because we have a deadline. we can't keep grasping at straws that are obviously not working."

"starting from scratch and coming up with absolutely nothing is also not going to help us meet the deadline."

"so you want to create an album of demos we've rejected? you want to release a subpar album?" chan taunts.

"that's not what i'm saying," han shakes his head.

"that's what i'm hearing!"

"look, hyung," changbin steps in, "just listen to us for a second."

"i'm listening," chan snaps, "and i disagree. we have a standard to reach, one to exceed. i'll be damned if we release something below that."

"why the hell would we release something below standard?" changbin scoffs, running his hands through his hair and over his face in exasperation. letting his hands linger on his face as he leans forward, elbows on his knees.

the youngest in the room snaps at chan, "the fuck? is this you saying you lack faith in our producing skills? that we can't rework old demos to produce something that not only hits that standard but exceeds it?"

the sharp change in han's tone and volume alerts changbin, who realizes this conversation–well now it's an argument–is getting out of hand. chan and han are practically at each others throats and they're both too headstrong but stubborn at the same time, neither of them will back down. obviously, avoiding conversation wasn't going to get them anywhere, but at this point, where emotions are high, and egos are even higher, no meaningful or productive conversation regarding the album will be shared. changbin realizes he needs to jump into action to diffuse the situation before it becomes a screaming match between the two heated bandmates.

"i'm saying we have a standard, we have expectations to uphold," chan speaks slowly, his voice deeper as he's practically sneering at han, "one that the company has for us, stay, everyone."

han snarls back, eyes throwing daggers in chan's direction, "i know that. i know that damn fucking well. i'm out here trying to innovate some sort of progress toward this album, progress that we have been severely lacking for the past couple of weeks. other than rejecting our ideas, what the hell have you been doing?" he raises his chin at the older boy in a provoking manner.

"han–" changbin starts but is quickly cut off by chan.

"what the hell have i been doing?" chan spits out the question, han nods, "i've been making sure all our releases since debut continue to surpass these standards–this upcoming album is no different. don't come into my studio questioning what the fuck i've been doing."

"hyung–" changbin tries again to no avail.

"maybe you should leave," chan hisses, and changbin's eyes widen, darting between the two other boys in the studio with fires in their eyes, "and come back when you have suggestions that aren't going to waste my fucking time."

"look, guys. hannie, channie hyung–" changbin is cut off again when han rises to his feet, jaw clenched as he stares down chan in front of him, eyes narrowed.

"fine. i'll leave," he declares, "this is a waste of my time. i'll come back when you've got your head out of your fucking ass and you're open to listening to anyone other than yourself."

chan spins back around in his chair, eyes rolling back in anger as he clenches his fists on the table. behind him, han is quickly packing up his laptop and notebook as changbin gulps, wracking his brain to think of who to attend to right now. when han stomps to the studio door, swinging it open and stomping out into the hall of the company building. changbin is quick to follow after him, leaving everything but his phone, keys and wallet in his pocket the whole time as he follows after han, shutting the door behind them, leaving chan to his own thoughts alone. he chooses to follow the younger boy to try to calm him down and ensure he's safe wherever he plans to run off to.

meanwhile, you're a couple moments away from the elevator reaching the same floor the three boys are on. your hands clasped in front of you as you keep an eye on the digital sign that changes with each floor, rocking back and forth on your heels to pass the time. you haven't seen your boyfriend in quite a while due to your conflicting schedules, work and life getting in the way of a relationship, but you were grateful for those moments in between the chaos where it was just steady love and happiness. you learned to cherish those small moments instead of grovelling over how much time you can't spend with your boyfriend–obviously you get sad once in a while when you're away from him but choose not to dwell on it. thankfully, tonight is one of those nights where you can spend your time in the comfort of your boyfriend's presence. but he has no idea that you were even planning on coming to the company building, he has no idea of this little surprise you've organized.

when the elevator dings, stopping at your floor, you exit quickly but you make your way down the hallway slowly. your head moving from left to right as you read the numbers on each door, ensuring you landed on the correct floor and were going in the right direction. when you hear footsteps and your eyes dart to changbin and han walking down the hall in your direction, a wave of relief washes over you until you catch a glimpse of the concern on changbin's face and the anger on han's. they notice you walking towards them belatedly, almost running into you, but you catch their attention before any collision.

"hey guys," you greet softly, concern written on your features at the sight of the two boys. eyes looking between changbin whose eyes are drooped with worry and han, who you can feel the anger radiating off of, "what's going on?"

they both exchange small greetings with you. given han's current state, his greetings are shorter and more reserved. his mouth shut and jaw clenched again once he's greeted you.

"creative differences," changbin says to which han scoffs, rolling his eyes, "ok well, that's how it started, but long story short, we got into an argument, and hannie walked out."

"we?"

changbin nods, "yeah, hannie, chan hyung and i."

your lips purse in a tight line when the second name rolls off changbin's tongue: "if you don't mind, could you explain what happened?"

not wanting to get into too much detail as changbin doesn't want further rile up the already upset han, he gives you a quick run down of the main points of the argument between the 3racha boys–mainly chan and han. you keep your mouth shut the whole time and nod, listening intently to changbin explain while han stands with his arms crossed over his chest, a prominent pout on his lips and his eyebrows knit together.

"you're on your way to see, channie hyung?" changbin asks for clarification and you nod, "okay, obviously after what i told you, he's in a really bad mood right now so proceed with caution. angry chan is scary chan."

you thank changbin for letting you know what happened from their perspective, bidding short goodbyes to both the boys as han and changbin decide to make their way back to the dorms. han needs some time to unwind and collect his thoughts after the spat with chan. you continue to walk down the hall, turning a corner and finding the room number that felix sent you earlier–103.

you knock on the door softly but hear nothing from the inside; you knock once again and hear nothing. you sigh and decide to turn the knob, letting yourself in.

chan heard the knocks; the first one sparked his annoyance, and the second continued to heighten it. the sound of the door being opened caused him to bark at whoever decided to come in when, through his silence, he clearly didn't grant the permission to.

"what the hell?" he mutters to himself before he barks out, turning in his chair, "complete silence after knocking is not an invitation to come in, fuckin–"

when chan fully turns in his chair to face the direction of the door, the words get caught in his throat at the sight of you. he assumed it might have been changbin, han or a staff member, but seeing you standing there took him by complete shock. you shut the door behind you and give chan a small wave that he reciprocates hesitantly, still trying to let it sink in that you're actually in the room with him and that he isn't hallucinating due to how long it's been since the last time he's seen his girlfriend in person. you move to sit on the couch that was once occupied by the two other 3racha members; now, one side is occupied by changbin's laptop and notebook while you sit on the opposite end. chan turns his chair, following your every move.

when you sit down, take the pillow and place it on your lap, you smile up at chan again, "hi."

"hey baby," chan speaks slowly, "what are you doing here?"

you hum before answering, "well, we haven't been able to see each other in a while cos of our schedules but some time opened up for me today, so i wanted to pay you a surprise visit."

chan feels his heart warm at the gesture, but he's still quite irritated and agitated from the argument with han and changbin. the lack of progress for the upcoming album, along with the plethora of expectations looming over his head and his patience begins to dwindle again.

"that's nice, but i don't really have time for this right now," chan's tone is stern, his voice deep in warning, "i've got so much shit to do for this upcoming album, and nothing is fucking–"

"can I sit on your lap?" you ask, cutting chan off and causing him to furrow his eyebrows together in a mix of confusion and irritation–irritated that you had cut him off but confused about whether he had heard you right.

"what?" he deadpans, blinking at you.

"can I sit on your lap?" you repeat, and now he knows he definitely didn't hear things.

"did you not hear what i said?" chan holds back from snarling at you in frustration. "nothing is done for the album, and i don't have time to take a break."

you nod, hearing his words but adding, "you can continue working. i just want to sit on your lap while you do."

chan opens his mouth to refuse, but his eyes lock with yours–your shiny, beautiful eyes with a perfect array of colours decorating the irises, gazing up at him with a splash of hope in the depths of love in your eyes. that's when his mouth snaps shut again, probably looking like a fish when it opens again, but this time he says:

"yeah? sure."

the bright smile that stretches on your face feels like a reward to chan. you make your way over, placing yourself on his lap while facing him; thankfully, chan's chair is big enough for you to practically straddle him in a comfortable position. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and nuzzle yourself into his neck.

"you can go back to work now," you say, your voice muffled from the pressure of your lips against his skin.

chan can't help the lopsided smile that makes its way to his lips. he also can't help the way his whole body seems to relax with your touch; the longer he feels the warmth radiating off your body onto his, the more he feels the tension in his muscles deteriorating slowly. the feeling of your body pressed against his, his arms outstretched to continue typing or writing in his notebook, feels comforting.

moments pass when chan's room is quiet, and the occasional noise of chan typing on the keyboard, picking up or placing his pencil down to scratch down who knows what in his notebook. at the same time, you're still perched on his lap, your arms comfortably draped around him, and your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

chan isn't sure if the arguing with han and changbin or if the feeling of you in his arms sparked some ideas to come out of him and onto paper, but he would like to say both. despite the heated atmosphere and half-hearted words thrown around, he doesn't want to feel like that argument was completely unnecessary and a waste of time; instead, he wants to see it as a bump in the road that shows him how he can continue to improve as a friend, producer, bandmate and a person as a whole.

meanwhile, you're thinking about how comfortable you feel in the position your in right now, and how you could probably fall asleep at this moment. sure, maybe your back will hurt when you wake up, but right now, you feel your whole body relax in your boyfriend's arms. a couple moments later, your eyes are half open and you felt yourself falling asleep, but you jump a little in shock when you feel both of chan's hands sprawled on your back. his hands rub your back gently and comfortingly before he circles his arms around your body and pulls you closer. a deep sigh escaping his lips as he holds you, his eyes falling shut for a few seconds. chan turns his head, kissing the side of your head on your hair.

"thank you," he whispers, placing another gentle kiss as his hands rub circles on your back again.

you respond in a small, quiet and slightly sleepy voice, "for what?"

chan shrugs, "for this. being here."

you nod, pausing for a moment before you say, "i ran into changbin and han in the hall."

you feel your boyfriend tense up in your arms. you begin to reciprocate his comforting action as you trace circles on his back with the pads of your thumbs, his muscles relaxing under your gentle caresses. you continue to speak in a soft, timid manner that only chan can hear since your lips are so close to his ear.

"i know you're under a lot of stress and pressure preparing for the album," you begin, "i get that you're frustrated, but can you please not speak to me like that?"

the man feels his heart drop listening to your words. his mind rewinds back to when he heard the door opening, and how his first instinct was to bark and scold whoever came into the studio uninvited. chan remembers how you blinked and gave him a small smile, trying to hide your surprise, but it was evident in how your eyes widened the slightest bit for a split second before returning to normal.

you and chan sit in silence; he's dwelling on your words while you're still tracing circles into his back with your thumbs. chan wants to say that he didn't know you were the one coming into the studio, to use that as a defence, but he knows how weak that is–that regardless of who came into the room, he shouldn't have let his frustrations blow over, flipping out and greeting them by raising his voice. sure, his emotions were high, which is a factor in how he acted earlier, but he can't use that as an excuse to get away with snapping at people who have nothing to do with what he's emotional about.

you feel chan nod, and he says softly, "i'm sorry." you go to say that it's okay, but chan interrupts, "it's not, though. even if i didn't mean to speak to you that way, i still need to figure out how to regulate and control my emotions."

"you're human," you say, "when emotions are high, it's hard to find a way to keep them under control all the time. but the fact that you recognize your mistake–that's a lot more than many people can say."

chan pulls you even closer against him, if it's even possible, "i'll try my best though. i'll speak to you at a normal volume, respectfully and saying sweet things. that's what my girl deserves."

your cheeks heat up at the way chan calls you 'his girl'.

"thank you," chan repeats.

this time, you pull away, sitting up straight to look at chan's face, your eyes meeting his soft ones. his hands rub up and down your sides slowly, a slight smile on his lips. you cock your head in confusion, "for what?"

"you always know the right thing to say," chan moves one of his hands up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, keeping his hand on your cheek gently and the pad of his thumb swiping over the skin, "i love you."

you're blushing even harder now, "i love you too."

chan uses the hand on your cheek to guide your face so your lips meet his halfway for a sweet kiss. after quite a while, a smile breaks out on your face at the feeling of his soft pink and plump lips against yours. your hands move to hold either side of his neck, and the two of you spend the next couple of moments sharing tender kisses and giggles in between.

in the midst of all of the kisses, you and chan are gazing down at each other when he brushes your hair away again. this time, he opens his mouth to speak with flushed cheeks, "i'm starting to think han and his suggestions were right; it'll be better to build on something we already have and improve on it than to force ourselves to start from scratch and continue to hit a dead end."

you brush chan's hair out of his forehead, and he continues.

"my head was too far up my ass to consider his suggestion," chan purses his lips together, and his eyes flash with regret as he recalls the words thrown around between him and the younger producer earlier. chan lets himself linger in his head again before voicing his concerns, "do you think they'll forgive me?"

you nod.

"really? you're not just saying that?"

you nod again, and this time, you explain, "as long as you can identify and acknowledge where you went wrong and what you did wrong, and sincerely and genuinely apologize–which i know you feel sincerely and genuinely apologetic for–i believe they'll forgive you."

chan's eyelids flutter quickly as he thinks, nodding as he fully processes your words. still, a wave of nervousness washes over him at the possibility that han and changbin won't forgive him.

"they're your brothers," you snap him out of his thoughts, "brothers fight, but at the end of the day, they still love each other."

main masterlist