#The Flash 9 Preview

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The Flash #9 Preview

The Flash #9 Preview #dccomics #comics #comicbooks #news #DCEU #dcuuniverse #art #info #NCBD #wallywest #Amazon #comicbooknews #previews #reviews #flash #theflash #scarletspeedster #speedforce #centralcity #flashfacts

The Flash #9 Preview: As the Speed Force glitching causes more chaos around the world, another Rogue is gifted with a mysterious powerset upgrade, while Linda seeks out the source of the mysterious voices she’s been hearing, and Barry reaches a breaking point! Written by SIMON SPURRIER Art and cover by RAMÓN PÉREZ Variant covers by JOHN GIANG and MATT TAYLOR $3.99 US | 32 pages | Variant $4.99 US…

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For Worse or For Worse

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WC: 6.1k

Masterlist

Preview and Summary

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The morning sunlight sliced through the blinds like a vengeful blade, striking Harry's face with merciless precision. He winced, his consciousness reluctantly clawing its way back from oblivion. His neck screamed in protest as he shifted in the armchair, muscles stiff from spending the night in such an awkward position.

"Shit," he groaned, blinking against the light, his mouth dry and tasting faintly of stale whiskey.

The empty glass sat on the side table, a ring of condensation marking the expensive wood beneath it. Harry rubbed his face roughly, the light stubble on his jaw scraping against his palms. He checked his watch—8:17 AM. He'd managed maybe four hours of fitful sleep at best.

Memories of the previous night flooded back––Y/N on the stairs, the flash of something between them, the uncomfortable resurgence of a past he'd worked hard to forget. He stood, stretching his tall frame, his back popping in protest.

"Coffee," he mumbled to himself. "Need coffee."

Harry made his way to the kitchen, his movements slower than usual, aware that Y/N might already be up. The thought of facing her after last night's confrontation didn't appeal, but hiding in his own house appealed even less.

The kitchen was mercifully empty. He started the coffee machine, the expensive Italian model humming to life under his touch. As the rich aroma began to fill the space, he leaned against the counter, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. A reminder that the real world existed beyond this strange domestic purgatory. Harry fished it out, squinting at the screen.

Two missed calls from his manager. A text reminding him about an interview scheduled for today. Another from his mother, which he promptly ignored. And a notification about a charity gala that evening. The one he was expected to attend with his "loving wife."

"Perfect," he muttered sarcastically, setting the phone down with more force than necessary.

The coffee machine beeped, and he poured himself a cup, black and strong. He took a sip, the bitter liquid scorching his throat, a fitting punishment for last night's indiscretions.

Harry glanced toward the ceiling, wondering if Y/N was awake yet, if she was avoiding coming downstairs because she knew he might be there. The thought irked him more than it should have.

He'd have to face her eventually. They had a public appearance tonight—another performance of marital bliss for the cameras. After last night, maintaining that facade would require more acting skill than he thought either of them possessed.

Taking his coffee, Harry moved to the kitchen island, pulling out his phone again to check his schedule. Better to focus on work than dwell on the complications of his personal life. If Y/N wanted to avoid him, so be it. It was probably for the best anyway.

Y/N makes her way down the stairs, her sleep shorts brushing against her thighs, the matching silk top hanging loosely over her frame, barely buttoned. Fingers rub the last traces of sleep from her eyes as she steps onto the landing—only to freeze halfway down.

Harry.

He’s standing there, an unexpected presence in the early morning stillness. Her pulse stutters, more out of surprise than anything else. He’s usually at the gym by now.

"Why are you here?" The words slip out sharper than intended, her sleep-addled brain not bothering to filter them.

Harry looked up at the sound of her voice, the coffee cup pausing halfway to his lips. His eyes tracked her descent down the stairs, taking in the silk pajama set that left little to the imagination. The barely buttoned top revealed more skin than he was prepared to deal with before 9 AM, especially with a hangover.

He forced his gaze back to her face, noting the sleep-softened edges of her usually sharp expression. Despite himself, he found the sight oddly disarming.

"Last I checked, I live here," he replied, his voice rough from sleep and last night's whiskey. "Reason enough to be in my own house, I'd think."

"Well, you look like shit"

He glares at her blatant insult

She narrowed her eyes, stepping off the last stair and into the kitchen. "You’re usually gone by now," she pointed out, crossing her arms.

"Fell asleep in the chair," he admitted after a beat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Missed my alarm for the gym."

She snorted. "Shame. How will the world survive without its daily dose of Harry Styles lifting weights on Instagram?"

Harry shot her a look but chose to let the jab slide, watching as she poured headed to the fridge.

"There's coffee," he added, nodding toward the pot, his voice oddly neutral. "Made enough for two."

She arched a brow, "How generous."

His phone buzzed on the counter, breaking the silence. He glanced at the screen but didn't pick it up. Instead, he sighed. "We have that charity gala tonight. The children’s hospital fundraiser. Car will be here at seven."

Y/N groaned, resting a hip against the counter. "Right. Another evening spent fake-smiling and convincing old men to donate money they’ll write off on their taxes anyway."

He smirked. "Look at you, finally understanding how high society works."

It was easier to focus on logistics, on the business aspect of their arrangement, than to address what had transpired between them. Still, his eyes betrayed him, dropping briefly to the exposed curve of her collarbone before he caught himself.

"You might want to..." he gestured vaguely toward her top, clearing his throat."Button up. Unless you're trying to give the housekeeping staff a show when they arrive."

The comment was meant to sound casual, perhaps even teasing, but came out more gruff than intended. Harry took another long sip of coffee, using the mug to hide whatever expression might be betraying him

Her eyes snap down, immediately turning around, "don't look" she scolds but there was a tint to her cheeks as she turned back, heading to the fridge. 

Harry's eyebrows rose slightly at her command not to look, but he dutifully averted his gaze, but not before catching the pink flush spreading across her cheeks. Something about her embarrassment struck him as oddly endearing, a crack in her usually composed demeanor.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he muttered, focusing intently on his coffee cup as if it contained the secrets of the universe.

“I don’t drink coffee” she says suddenly

Harry looked up again, genuine surprise flickering across his features. Four months of marriage—fake as it was—and he hadn't known this basic fact about her. It was a stark reminder of how little they actually knew about each other, despite living under the same roof.

"You don't drink coffee?" he repeated, watching as she rummaged through the fridge. "What kind of monster doesn't drink coffee?"

"The kind that prefers not to rely on bean juice to function," she quipped

“Bean juice? That sounds disgusting” 

“Because it is” 

"Tea person, then? Or one of those green smoothie enthusiasts?" He gestured toward the high-end blender sitting unused on the counter. "Should I be worried you're going to start filling the fridge with wheatgrass shots and kombucha?"

“Those are also disgusting” she said absentmindedly as she scanned the fridge 

It occurred to Harry that this was perhaps the most normal conversation they'd had in... well, ever. No cutting remarks about their arrangement, no thinly veiled references to their past. Just mundane morning talk between two people sharing a space.

"There's orange juice," he offered after a moment, nodding toward the back of the fridge. 

She deliberately takes the mango juice, turning to pour herself a glass. It was a small act of defiance that almost made him smile. He caught himself, schooling his features back into neutrality.

His phone buzzed again insistently, breaking the strange moment of domesticity. Harry glanced at it with a frown.

"My manager," he explained unnecessarily. "Probably hounding me about tonight. Apparently, we need to look 'particularly devoted' for some potential sponsorship deal."

“Yay” she said dryly, “What am I wearing?"

Being small-town scum, as his mother so fondly put it, meant she didn't get a say in what she wore to public appearances. Her wardrobe was just another thing meticulously curated to fit the image of Harry Styles' perfect wife.

"Something gold, I think," he replied, setting his coffee mug down and retrieving his phone. "Amanda sent over options yesterday."

He scrolled through his messages, locating the one from his stylist. Harry turned the screen toward Y/N, showing her photos of three designer gowns.

"This one," he pointed to a stunning gold sequined gown with a plunging neckline and open back. "She said it would 'showcase our brand partnership' or some marketing nonsense like that."

Harry's tone was dismissive, but his eyes lingered on the image, mentally superimposing it over Y/N’s figure. The dress would undoubtedly look spectacular on her, a fact he acknowledged privately with some reluctance.

"Unless you have a preference for one of the others," he added, the offer surprising even himself.

She shook her head, reaching for a glass from the cupboard, deliberately ignoring the way his gaze flickered to the exposed strip of skin where her pajama top had ridden

"I suppose it doesn't really matter," she continued, turning toward the sink.”I'll do the gold”

It was a small concession, allowing her some choice in the matter when they both knew she'd ultimately wear whatever his team deemed best for their public image. The irony wasn't lost on him—dictating her wardrobe while claiming to offer freedom.

Harry set his phone down, studying her over the rim of his coffee cup. The morning light filtering through the kitchen windows caught in her hair, creating an effect that was almost ethereal.

"For what it's worth," he said after a moment, his voice uncharacteristically sincere, "my mother's opinion isn't the gospel truth. Never has been."

The statement hung in the air between them, loaded with implications neither seemed ready to address. Harry looked away first, uncomfortable with the momentary vulnerability.

She exhaled sharply, then turned, leaning against the counter with arms crossed. "That’s rich, coming from the guy who lets her dictate every part of his life" Her words weren’t laced with anger, just quiet, exhausted truth.

His jaw tensed, but he said nothing.

She let the silence stretch, then pushed off the counter with a sigh.

"I'll have the car take you to the fitting at two," he continued, reverting to practicalities. "Makeup and hair team will come here at four. Standard procedure."

He drained the last of his coffee, setting the empty mug in the sink.

"I've got an interview at eleven. Should be back by four as well." A pause, then: "Try not to miss me too much while I'm gone."

The sarcasm was familiar territory, a retreat to safer ground after the unexpected moment of honesty. But it lacked his usual edge, coming across more as habitual banter than genuine derision.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she took a slow sip of her juice. "Oh, no. How will I survive the agonizing hours without you?"

A small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of Harry's mouth before he could catch himself. Her dry humor, when not aimed at his most vulnerable points, was actually somewhat entertaining. He covered the slip with a theatrical sigh.

"The burden of being utterly irresistible," he lamented, placing a hand over his heart in mock sorrow. "It's a cross I bear daily."

His cross necklace gleamed in the morning light as if to emphasize the unintentional pun. 

Harry watched as she moved to the fridge, gathering ingredients, curiosity piqued despite his better judgment.

"Planning to cook something?" he asked, lingering in the kitchen longer than necessary. "I thought the whole point of having a chef was to avoid that particular chore."

Mrs. Henley, his private chef, only came in three times a week, leaving them to fend for themselves on off days. Harry's culinary skills extended to scrambled eggs and the occasional pasta dish. Nothing impressive for someone who claimed to enjoy cooking as a hobby.

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, the tattoos on his forearms visible where he'd rolled up his sleeves. The domesticity of the moment struck him as surreal. Standing in his kitchen, having something approaching a normal conversation with the woman he was supposed to loathe.

"I could eat," he admitted, surprising himself with the indirect request to join her meal. "If you're making enough for two."

Y/N stilled for a moment, placing whatever she had picked up back in the fridge, "Would you look at that. Suddenly I'm not hungry anymore." She picks her drink uo, "I'm going to shower" She says before walking past him 

Harry's expression hardened as she rebuffed him, the momentary warmth evaporating like morning dew under harsh sunlight. He watched her retreat, jaw clenching slightly at the deliberate rejection.

"Right," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

As she brushed past him, a faint trace of her scent—something floral and distinctly Y/N—registered in his awareness. Harry remained motionless until she disappeared up the stairs, then exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Stupid," he chided himself quietly, pushing away from the counter with more force than necessary.

What had he expected? That four months of mutual antagonism would dissolve over morning juice? That she'd suddenly want to play happy homemakers after last night's confrontation? The very idea was ridiculous.

Harry retrieved his phone, scrolling through the missed messages with renewed focus. Work was safer. Work made sense. Work didn't reject him or stir up complicated feelings that had no place in their transactional relationship.

He typed a quick response to his manager, confirming the interview details, then headed upstairs to a guest room—deliberately timing his ascent to ensure Y/N would be settled in his bathroom before he reached the top of the stairs.

Harry hadn’t hesitated when he insisted she stay in his room. On paper, it was a practical decision, after all, appearances had to be kept, and the staff or any unexpected visitors couldn’t be given a reason to doubt their marriage. But beneath that excuse lurked a more vindictive motive.

He liked knowing she didn’t have a space that was truly her own, that even in this grand estate, she had no real refuge from him. It was control, plain and simple. A way to remind her that despite her sharp tongue and endless defiance, she was still living in his house, under his conditions. And if the stiff set of her shoulders every night before slipping into bed beside him was any indication, the arrangement had its intended effect. Did he regret it? …Well, yes. 

Now forced to shower in a guest room to avoid her, Harry couldn't help but regret his little power trip. At the time, it had seemed like a clever way to assert control, to keep her close and under his watch. But now, the reality of sharing a room with her, of being unable to escape her presence, even in the sanctuary of his own space, felt suffocating. The tension between them was always there, thick and palpable, even when they were silent. He'd wanted to make her uncomfortable, to remind her that she was living in his world, but now, Harry questioned his decision with every sleepless night and awkward encounter. It had been petty, and now he was paying the price.

Harry stripped off yesterday's clothes, avoiding his reflection in the mirror. 

Whatever.

He'd shower in his lavish guest bathroom, dress in clothes that cost more than some people's monthly rent, and resume his role as Harry Styles, superstar. Not Harry Styles, the man just rejected for breakfast by his fake wife.

As the hot water pounded against his skin, washing away the remnants of whiskey and poor sleep, Harry found himself dwelling on Y/N reaction. Her immediate recoil at his suggestion of sharing a meal bothered him more than it should have.

He shut off the water with more force than necessary, wrapping a towel around his waist. Through the wall, he could faintly hear movement in his room. Hear the soft pad of footsteps, the opening and closing of drawers.

So close physically, yet miles apart in every way that mattered.

Harry dressed methodically, selecting a patterned shirt and black jeans, the familiar routine grounding him. By the time he was ready to leave, his public persona was firmly in place—confident, slightly aloof, untouchable.

He paused at the door, listening for any sign of Y/N in the hallway. Hearing nothing, he stepped out, adjusting his cross necklace as he headed for the stairs. Tonight they'd have to pretend to be madly in love. For now, he'd give her what she clearly wanted—distance.

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In the interview

The camera panned to Harry as he sat across from the host, flashing his signature smile. The interview had begun in a blur of bright lights and studio chatter, but now it was just the two of them, the air thick with expectations. He tried to shake off the nagging thoughts of the morning—of her, of them. The contrast between his public persona and the tension that lingered back at home was more jarring than he liked to admit.

"Harry Styles, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome back!" The host grinned, leaning forward, clearly relishing the moment. He offered the host—a bubbly blonde woman in her mid-thirties—his most charming smile, the one that had graced countless magazine covers and sent fans into frenzies across the globe. 

"Great to be back, Melissa," he replied smoothly, his British accent slightly more pronounced than usual

"Now, last time you were on, things were a little different. About four months ago, you broke millions of hearts when you tied the knot. Has the honeymoon phase passed yet, or are you still basking in that marital bliss?"

At the mention of his marriage, Harry's smile shifted, becoming something more intimate, as if he were sharing a private joke with the audience. It was a masterful performance, one he'd perfected over the past four months.

"Ah, the honeymoon phase," he chuckled, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "I'm not sure that ever really ends when you find the right person, does it?"

The studio audience responded with appreciative sighs and a smattering of applause. Harry leaned forward slightly, his green eyes twinkling with practiced sincerity.

“Aww, thats wonderful, Harry. Tell us more” She prompted 

"Y/N is..." he paused, as if searching for words adequate enough to describe his 'beloved' wife. "She's extraordinary, really. Keeps me grounded in a way nothing else in this industry can."

He twisted the platinum band on his finger, a gesture calculated to appear unconscious and endearing.

"Marriage has its challenges, of course," he continued, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his tone. Just enough to seem authentic without revealing anything truly personal. "Balancing work, touring schedules, her commitments... but coming home to her makes everything else fade away."

The lie rolled off his tongue with practiced ease, even as his mind flashed to that morning's rejected breakfast invitation and the tension that perpetually simmered between them.

"She's actually joining me tonight at the children's hospital gala," he added, knowing the publicist would appreciate the plug. "It's a cause close to both our hearts."

Harry crossed his long legs, his designer boots catching the studio lights.

"And between you and me," he leaned in conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a stage whisper that ensured every audience member strained to hear, "seeing her all dressed up for these events... well, let's just say the honeymoon phase gets a second wind."

The audience erupted in laughter and wolf whistles, exactly the reaction he'd anticipated. Harry sat back with a satisfied grin, the picture of a man deeply in love and not at all ashamed to show it.

Behind the smile, however, his mind was already calculating how many hours until he'd have to face Y/N again, how carefully they'd need to choreograph their affection for the cameras tonight, how exhausting the perpetual performance had become.

Melissa leaned forward, loving all the information she was getting, "Remind us again how you two me? How did someone like her manage to grab the attention of Harry Styles. Give us normal people some tips"

Harry laughed easily at the question, but for a fraction of a second, something flickered in his eyes.

"Now, now, Melissa," he chided playfully, wagging a finger. "Don't sell yourself short. And certainly don't sell Y/N short by implying she's just 'someone like her.' That's my wife you're talking about."

The audience cooed at his protective response, eating up the chivalrous display. Harry shifted slightly in his seat, adopting a more thoughtful expression.

"We actually met years ago," he began, weaving truth and fiction with expert precision. "Her family lived near my family's summer home. Two different worlds that happened to intersect."

This much was true, though he omitted his mother's disdain and the childish friendship that had formed despite it.

"But we really reconnected last year at a charity event," he continued, the fabricated part of their story flowing seamlessly. "She was helping coordinate it. She’s always been passionate about giving back. Didn't give a damn about who I was or how many records I'd sold."

Harry's smile turned rueful, a calculated expression that suggested genuine emotion.

"Actually walked right past me without a second glance. Bit of a blow to the ego, that."

The audience laughed appreciatively, and Harry played along, feigning wounded pride.

"So naturally, I had to know more about this woman who wasn't impressed by Harry Styles," he continued, his accent caressing the words. "Turns out she's brilliant, compassionate, and completely uninterested in the spotlight. Everything that's real in a world that often... isn't."

He paused, twisting his wedding band again—a gesture the cameras would surely catch.

"Tips for the 'normal people'?" he echoed Melissa's question, making air quotes with his fingers. 

"I'd say authenticity. That's what captured my attention. In an industry where everyone's trying to be someone else, someone who's genuinely themselves becomes the most magnetic person in the room."

The irony of preaching authenticity while perpetuating a massive lie wasn't lost on him, but Harry maintained his earnest expression, years of media training keeping any hint of discomfort from showing.

"And she makes me laugh," he added with a wistful smile, thinking of Y/N’s sarcastic How will I survive? from that morning. "Not many people can surprise me anymore, but she manages it daily."

It wasn't entirely a lie. She did surprise him—just not in the romantic way he was implying.

"So there you have it: be authentic, be passionate about something beyond someone's fame, and for God's sake, make them work for it a little," he concluded with a cheeky wink that sent the audience into fits of giggles.

"Well there you have it, Ladies and Gentlemen. Looks like I'll be signing up for comedy classes soon. Now before we go, can we be on the lookout for mini Styles any time soon?"

Harry's practiced composure faltered for a split second, the question catching him off guard despite its predictability. A dozen thoughts raced through his mind. The main one was how he forgot to check the script and approved questions. 

But his training kicked in quickly, his expression shifting to something playful yet thoughtfully reserved.

"Ah, straight for the big questions, aren't you?" he said with a laugh, adjusting his position in the chair. "You know, we're really just enjoying being married right now. Getting to know each other in this new context."

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture buying him time to craft the perfect response.

"Y/N's still young. Turning 24 later this year" he reminded the audience, carefully constructing an acceptable narrative. "She's got dreams and ambitions of her own that I want to see her pursue first. And with my touring schedule about to ramp up again..."

He let the implication hang, then continued with calculated vulnerability.

"When the time is right, though..." Harry's voice softened, his gaze momentarily distant as if imagining a future that existed only in press releases and publicity strategies. "I think she'd be an amazing mother. She's got this incredible way with people. She's patient, kind, but doesn't take any nonsense."

The audience sighed appreciatively, completely sold on his performance.

"For now, we're happy being a family of two," he concluded with a gentle smile, then added with perfect comedic timing: "Well, two and our absolutely mental cat that Y/N insisted we adopt."

The completely fabricated pet detail was a stroke of improvised genius. Quite perfect actually. Humanizing, relatable, and completely impossible to fact-check during the broadcast.

"She's got me wrapped around her finger with that one," he admitted with a rueful shake of his head. "Can't say no to those eyes."

Whether he meant the imaginary cat or his fake-devoted wife remained deliberately ambiguous, allowing the audience to project whatever romantic notion they preferred onto his statement.

As the audience cooed and the host beamed, Harry maintained his easy smile, but internally, he was already dreading how this particular exchange would play out when he returned home. 

Children—even hypothetical ones—had never factored into their arrangement, and he suspected Y/N wouldn't appreciate being put in this position, fictional cat or not.

The sleek black car glided through London traffic, Harry staring absently out the tinted window. The interview had gone well. Exactly as planned, perhaps even better. His team would be pleased. Yet something nagged at him, a strange discomfort that had nothing to do with the lies he's told.

It was the cat. The fictional cat he'd invented on the spot, a detail so random and yet so specific that it had surprised even him. As the cityscape blurred past, Harry's mind drifted backward in time, colors fading to the warm golden hues of childhood summers.

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Summer | Fifteen years earlier

The summer air hung heavy with the scent of cut grass and wild blackberries. Ten-year-old Harry had escaped his mother's watchful eye, slipping away from their manicured summer estate to explore the woods that bordered the neighboring properties.

He'd found Y/N sitting cross-legged in a small clearing, a book open in her lap and an enormous orange tabby cat curled beside her. The cat was arguably the ugliest creature Harry had ever seen. With its one eye permanently squinted, fur patchy in places, and ears notched from old fights.

"What's wrong with it?" he'd asked bluntly, the tactlessness of childhood evident in his question.

Y/N had looked up, startled by his presence but not intimidated. Even then, at nine years old, she possessed a quiet confidence that fascinated him.

"Nothing's wrong with him," she'd replied defensively, stroking the cat's head. "He's just had a hard life. Dad says he's been through wars."

The cat had opened its good eye to regard Harry suspiciously, then promptly closed it again, seemingly unimpressed.

"What's his name?" Harry had asked, inching closer despite his mother's frequent warnings about ‘associating with the local children.’

Y/N had smiled then, a gap-toothed grin that transformed her entire face."Grumpus. Because he's always grumpy. But only on the outside."

She'd patted the ground beside her, an invitation Harry hadn't hesitated to accept. As he'd settled next to her, Grumpus had stretched one paw lazily across Y/N’s lap, extending it just far enough to rest against Harry's knee, a grudging acceptance.

"See?" Y/N had whispered conspiratorially. "He likes you."

Over that summer, and the ones that followed, Harry had spent countless afternoons in that clearing with Y/N and Grumpus. The cat had become a fixture in their secret friendship, a grumpy chaperone who tolerated Harry's presence with increasing degrees of affection.

When Grumpus died one winter, Y/N had written Harry a letter. The only communication they'd ever shared outside of summer. Just three lines in adolescent handwriting: "Grumpus went to heaven. Dad says he's not hurting anymore. I miss him."

Harry had kept that note hidden in his desk drawer, away from his mother's prying eyes. He'd never responded, afraid of her discovering their friendship, but he'd thought about Y/N and her beloved cat often that winter.

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Present day

The car hit a pothole, jolting Harry back to the present. He blinked, surprised by the clarity of the memory that had surfaced after all these years.

Grumpus. The cat he'd mentioned in the interview. The fictional pet that wasn't so fictional after all, but a ghost from their shared past. A past Y/N might not even remember, or worse, might remember all too clearly.

Harry pulled out his phone, typing a quick message to his assistant to stop by a pet shop on the way home. If he was going to fabricate a cat for their fake marriage, he might as well make it real. It would be easier than explaining why he'd invented one, especially one that echoed a childhood neither of them had acknowledged existed.

As London's elegant townhouses gave way to the exclusive neighborhood he called home, Harry rehearsed explanations in his mind, none of them satisfactory. How could he explain remembering something so insignificant from so long ago? How could he justify using that memory as a prop in their charade?

The car turned into his driveway, and Harry steeled himself for the confrontation that would surely follow. Some lies were easier to maintain than others. Some truths were harder to deny.

Harry spotted the familiar white van with tinted windows parked in the circular driveway—the mobile glam squad had already arrived. He checked his watch: 4:15 PM. Right on schedule.

The driver pulled up behind the van, and Harry took a moment to compose himself before exiting. His hand hovered over his phone, checking one last time that his assistant had understood his cryptic message about a pet store. The response was, a simple thumbs-up emoji, provided little reassurance.

"Thanks, Steve," he nodded to his driver as he stepped out of the car. "I'll text when we're ready to leave for the gala."

The front door opened before he reached it, revealing Micah, the head of his styling team. A slender man with electric blue hair and impeccable taste.

"There he is!" Micah exclaimed, ushering Harry inside with dramatic flair."We've been transforming your wife into absolute perfection, and now it's your turn, darling."

Harry glanced around the foyer. "Where is she?"

"Upstairs, final touches with Anya," Micah replied, already steering Harry toward the guest suite they'd converted into a styling space. "You'll see her when you're both ready. More impact that way for the photos."

It was standard procedure for high-profile events—separate preparations, then a "reveal" moment that would appear spontaneous but was actually carefully choreographed for maximum effect. Tonight, however, Harry found himself strangely impatient with the ritual.

"How much time do we have?" he asked, allowing himself to be guided into the chair before a portable lighting setup.

Micah consulted his watch. "Car's scheduled for 6:30. Plenty of time to make you devastating."

As the team descended upon him—one person addressing his hair, another laying out clothing options, a third preparing skincare products—Harry found his thoughts drifting upstairs to where Y/N was undergoing a similar transformation.

Had she even seen the interview? Would she mention the cat? The children question?

The sound of female laughter filtered down from upstairs. Y/N and the makeup artist sharing some private joke. The sound was so genuine, so unlike the careful politeness she usually maintained around the house, that Harry felt an unexpected pang of... something. Not quite jealousy, but exclusion perhaps.

"Heard your interview went well," Micah commented, applying some product to Harry's hair. "The studio audience was apparently eating out of your hand."

"Just did what I always do," Harry replied with practiced modesty.

"Mmm, and Sophie says the clips are already trending. Something about a cat?" Micah raised an eyebrow, making eye contact with Harry in the mirror."Didn't realize you two had a pet."

Harry maintained his composure, though he felt a flicker of unease. News traveled fast in their circle—too fast sometimes.

"Recent addition," he said smoothly. "Y/N's always wanted one. We just keep him in a room in situations like these because he likes to…jump all over the place. Knocking things down."

Micah didn't look entirely convinced but was professional enough not to press further. Instead, he directed Harry's attention to the suit options laid out on the bed. There were three nearly identical black tuxedos with subtle differences only fashion insiders would notice.

"The Tom Ford," Harry decided, pointing to the middle option. "With the gold cufflinks to match Y/N's dress."

As the team helped him dress, Harry's mind continued to race. The evening stretched before him. Hours of performing their loving couple routine, answering questions about their relationship, smiling for cameras. Usually, he viewed these events as necessary obligations, part of the business of being Harry Styles.

Tonight, however, felt different. The fictional cat, the memory of Grumpus, the question about children, all of it had knocked something loose inside him, a small avalanche of complications in what should have been a straightforward arrangement.

By the time he was fully dressed, hair styled to perfect dishevelment, face subtly enhanced to photograph flawlessly under any lighting, Harry had still not formulated a plan for addressing the interview with Y/N. Perhaps, he thought, it would be best to say nothing at all unless she brought it up first.

Micah stood back, assessing his work with a critical eye before nodding in satisfaction.

"Absolute perfection," he declared. "Now, let's see if your wife is ready for the big reveal."

The rhythmic click of heels against marble drew Harry's attention to the grand staircase. He turned, adjusting his cufflinks, a nervous habit disguised as a casual grooming gesture.

His breath caught involuntarily as Y/N descended, transformed by the styling team's artistry. Her hair cascaded in soft waves over one shoulder, the tones accentuated by the soft lighting of the foyer. The dress—a floor-length gold gown that shimmered with each movement—hugged her figure perfectly, the fabric catching the light like liquid metal. She possessed a natural beauty that needed little enhancement, but tonight, with her eyes dramatically lined and her lips painted a subtle rose, she looked absolutely ethereal.

Harry found himself momentarily speechless, aware of Micah and the team watching expectantly for his reaction. This was the moment, the performance of an adoring husband seeing his beloved wife in all her finery.

Yet something about her appearance had caught him genuinely off-guard. Perhaps it was the way the dress highlighted the elegant length of her neck, or how she carried herself with quiet confidence despite her youth. Or maybe it was the realization that in their four months of marriage, he'd never really looked at her—truly looked at her—without the filter of resentment coloring his perception.

Harry stepped forward as she reached the bottom of the stairs, his public persona sliding into place with practiced ease.

"You're breathtaking," he said, his voice low enough to seem intimate despite their audience.

He extended his hand to her, aware of the photographer discreetly capturing the moment from the corner of the room. These photos would be "leaked" to select media outlets—"exclusive behind-the-scenes glimpses" of their perfect marriage.

Harry's fingers brushed against hers, the contact sending an unexpected current up his arm. Her skin was soft, warm, and he found himself tightening his grip slightly, as if anchoring himself against some invisible tide.

For a brief moment, as their eyes met, the facade fell away. There was no pretense in his gaze, just genuine appreciation and perhaps a flicker of something more complex. It was a silent acknowledgment that despite everything, she truly did look stunning tonight.

Then the moment passed, and Harry's mask slipped back into place, though not quite as securely as before. He raised her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. A gesture calculated to please their audience while maintaining a respectable distance.

"Ready for our grand entrance, Mrs. Styles?" he asked, offering his arm with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Ready” she says, taking his arm with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. 

Around them, the styling team exchanged pleased glances, satisfied with the picture-perfect couple they'd created. None of them noticed the slight tension in Harry's shoulders or the careful way Y/N balanced her weight, as if preparing to step back at any moment.

The evening's performance had begun, and both players had taken their positions. Yet something had shifted subtly, a crack in the carefully constructed wall between them that neither had anticipated.

· · ─────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

A/N: At this rate, I'll be posting the whole thing by the end of the day, lol. What do we think? thoughts? questions? Feedback?

I’d love to know if there’s a specific part you liked (can you tell l like validation?)

Masterlist

Taglist: @mysunflowerposts @lydiasfalling @panini @ell0ra-br3kk3r @donutsandpalmtrees

· · ─────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

[hynzsn]

★ TWERKIN’ 9 -> 5 ★

☆ seok matthew x male reader 18+ MDNI

-> 1/3 this is the first continuation from ★ PICK YOUR HOLE ★

-> bottom!matthew x top!reader

꩜ .ᐟ smut

contents: submissive!matthew, big ass!matthew, favoritism, twerking, body oil, oiled-up ass cheeks, lap dance, face sitting, face riding, rimming, spanking, anal sex, anal fingering, kissing, caressing, cock riding, cum, multiple cumshots, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praise, teasing, moaning, whining, crying out in pleasure, facial, cumpie/creampie, squelching

wc: 2.2k

summary: your baby matthew’s been learning how to twerk just so he can see your reaction when he shows you his new moves. when you choose to play with him first, he’s eager to show off, twerk his ass all over your face and bounce on your cock.

♡︎♡︎♡︎ likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡︎♡︎♡︎

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“mmm, look at my three gorgeous boys, all lined up and ready for me,” you cooed, your eyes sparkling with desire as you took in the sight of your three submissive boyfriends. jiwoong, matthew, and ricky stood in a row, their pants pulled down, their asses on display, and their needy holes winking in anticipation.

but it was matthew, your baby, who caught your attention the most. matthew was playfully wiggling his ass, inviting you to take a closer look. his smooth cheeks, milky white as fresh cream, jiggling playfully, was a sight that made your mouth water and your cock twitch with need. matthew had been learning how to twerk, eager to show off his new moves and see the expression on your face.

of course, you loved all of your boyfriends dearly, but there was something special about matthew that made him your favorite. matthew had a certain spark—a mischievous glint in his eye—that always seemed to be inviting you for some secret, naughty one-on-one adventure. he was always eager to try something new and exciting in the bedroom, such as learning how to twerk, in order to drive you crazy. he was playful and teasing. but it wasn’t just his playful nature that made matthew your favorite. matthew was incredibly affectionate and loving. the type to crawl into your lap and deliver a passionate kiss, encircling your neck as if he were unable to relinquish his hold. additionally, matthew had a secretive side to his sluttiness. he might tease and play, but he always saves his most passionate and intimate moments for you alone. not to mention, matthew had an absolutely mouthwatering, juicy ass. you could spend hours indulging in it, licking and sucking until matthew was a trembling mess. that shit was like a drug, and you were happily addicted. so, while you loved and cared for all your boyfriends, there was just something extra special about your baby matthew, earning him the title of your favorite. and matthew certainly knew how to take advantage of his status as your favorite.

“aww, my cute little matty, what are you up to?” you teased, stepping closer to run a finger gently over matthew’s exposed cheek. “you’re being a naughty boy, aren’t you? teasing me with your pretty ass.”

matthew let out a playful giggle, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “maybe i just wanted to give you a little preview. i’ve got some new moves that i know you’re going to love.”

your cock twitched at the invitation, and you couldn’t resist reaching out to give matthew’s ass a firm smack, making him squeal in surprise. “oh, really now? and what kind of moves do you have in store for me, baby?”

matthew turned his head, flashing a flirty smile over his shoulder. “i’ll give you a hint. it involves me shaking this pretty ass all over your lap. but first, i need to get nice and slippery.” with that, matthew reached for a bottle of body oil that he had already within arms reach; he knew you’d choose him first. you always do. he poured a generous amount into his palm before rubbing it between his hands. he then began to slick up his cheeks, the oil making his skin glow and accentuating every delicious curve.

“damn baby, you’re making my mouth water,” you growled, your eyes fixed on matthew’s hands as they glided over his smooth skin. “fuck, you know i’ve got two other cock-hungry sluts that need my attention; this better be good.” jiwoong whined, and ricky let out a dissatisfied huff. their eyes were on you, sulking at not being chosen first.

“don’t worry, boys, you’ll get your turn,” matthew purred, wiggling his brows at his fellow submissives. “but for now, he’s all mine.” matthew sauntered over to where you stood, a confident smoke playing on his lips. the oil glistened on his milky cheeks, making them look deliciously squeezable. "you ready for this?” matthew teased, his eyes daring you to take him on.

your breath hitched as you took in the sight before you. matthew was a vision, all confidence and seduction. “i think it’s time you showed me what you’ve learned, baby.”

matthew didn’t need to be told twice. he backed up towards you, pressing his oiled-up cheeks against your crotch, making sure he could feel how hard he had made you. then, he began to move, his hips swaying sensuously as he twerked and grinded against you. your hands immediately went to matthew’s hips, guiding his movements as he bounced and twerked on your lap. the oil's slickness caused matthew's skin to feel as smooth as silk, and you were unable to suppress a moan at the sensation.

“pop it, baby,” you encouraged, your eyes fixed on the mesmerizing display. matthew’s ass cheeks clapped together, creating a squelchy, wet sound that filled the room. matthew threw his head back, his moans mixing with yours as he continued to put on a show. as he began to really twerk, he reached down and placed his hands on his knees for support. his ass was moving in perfect rhythm.

“damn, matty, you’ve been holding out on me,” you groaned, your cock aching with need. “you’re gonna make me bust a nut just from this alone.”

matthew just laughed. the sound was high and breathy as he kept moving. “you like it? yeah, i knew you would. just wait until you see what else i can do.”

your hands moved down to squeeze matthew’s jiggly cheeks, your thumbs brushing against his sensitive, needy hole. “stop teasing me, baby. i want to taste what’s mine.” you couldn't wait any longer; you needed to taste matthew, to feel his soft skin against your lips. you guided matthew towards the bed, gently pushing him forward so that he was bent over the edge. his ass presented itself like a delicious offering. “such a perfect view,” you murmured, your eyes taking in the sight of matthew’s oiled-up cheeks and the pink pucker of his hole. you leaned in, inhaling the scent of matthew’s arousal, and then planted a soft kiss just above his hole.

matthew let out a whimper at the touch, his knees weakening as your lips made contact. “please,” he begged, his voice hoarse with need. “i need your tongue inside me.”

you didn’t keep him waiting any longer. you dove in, your mouth enveloping matthew’s needy hole as your tongue began to rim him with abandon. you licked and sucked with a fervor that caused matthew to weep with pleasure. “oh, fuck!” matthew moaned, bracing himself on the bed with his hands, while your tongue worked like magic. “right there! that feels so good!”

you moaned in response, the sound vibrating against matthew’s sensitive skin, making him squirm and whimper. your hands gripped matthew’s hips, holding him in place as you continued to rim him relentlessly.

matthew was unable to resist the urge to stroke his own cock as you ate him out. he moaned and whimpered, his hips thrusting back to meet your tongue, desperate for more stimulation. “that’s it, baby, touch yourself,�� you encouraged between licks. “let me hear how much you’re enjoying this.” matthew didn’t hold back; he began jerking himself off, his breath coming out in short gasps as he neared his peak. “i’m close, so close!”

you wanted to feel matthew’s release, so you redoubled your efforts, your tongue fucking matthew’s hole as you reached up to play with his balls. with a cry, matthew came, his cum splattering across the bed as his body shook with the force of his orgasm. “fuck! oh my god, fuck!”

you pulled back, a satisfied smirk on your face as you watched matthew ride out his high, your lips glistening from the combination of oil and matthew’s natural juices. you looked up at matthew, your eyes dark with desire. “that was beautiful, baby. but we’re not done yet; i want you to ride my face,” you stated, your voice hoarse.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

now laying on your back, your eyes sparkled with satisfaction as you watched matthew hovering above you. he was a vision, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his ass still tingling from the intense oral attention you just gave him. he straddled your face, lowering himself until his ass was hovering just above your mouth. “like this?” he teased, his voice full of playful innocence.

“perfect,” you growled. “now show me those moves, baby, twerk for me. i want to feel your ass bouncing all over my face.”

matthew began to twerk and grind against your mouth, his ass cheeks clapping together as he moved his hips with a mischievous giggle. your tongue lashed out to lick and suck matthew's hole, causing him to let out those sweet whimpers and moans that you love to hear. you immediately went to town, again. “oh my god!” matthew cried out, his hands bracing himself on the bed for the second time as he tried to maintain balance. “that tongue of yours... it’s wicked!”

you moaned in response, sending a shiver up matthew’s spine. you sucked and nibbled, eating matthew’s ass just the way you knew he liked it, like an animal. matthew began to bounce faster, his ass cheeks jiggling against your face with every thrust. he threw his head back, moaning loudly as he surrendered to the pleasure that washed over him. his second orgasm was imminent, and he had not even touched himself this time. he was going to cum, hands free. “ahh! i’m going to cum again!”

“do it, baby,” you encouraged, your voice muffled underneath matthew’s ass and your hands squeezing matthew’s cheeks, helping to guide his movements. “cum all over my face. make a mess of me, baby.”

matthew came with another cry, this time painting your face as his body shook from the overwhelming release. he collapsed forward, his chest heaving as he tried to find his mind and catch his breath. his ass was still silently hovering above your mouth. “good boy,” you murmured, your hands gently caressing matthew’s ass cheeks. “enough of the appetizers; it's time for the main course, baby. it’s time for my cock to pound that needy, tight hole of yours.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you sat on the edge of the bed, your cock hard and throbbing, as you observed matthew stand up, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. matthew’s hole was red and puffy from the intense rimming, and you couldn’t wait to feel it clenching around your cock. “come here, baby,” you beckoned. “straddle my lap and let me take care of you.”

he eagerly climbed into your lap, facing you. he wrapped his arms around your neck and kissed you passionately, his chest flush against yours, as your hands began to roam over matthew’s body, caressing his back and sides before slowly making your way down to his ass. with gentle fingers, you began to massage matthew’s hole, slowly inserting one finger and then two, probing and stretching him for what’s about to come. matthew's body relaxed as your fingers thrust in and out of him, and he moaned into the kiss. matthew lowered himself, and you positioned matthew's hole over your cock, gradually guiding the head of your cock inside. you both moaned at the feeling—matthew at the stretch, and you at the tightness enveloping you.

once matthew had taken all of your length, he paused, adjusting to the feeling of being filled—the feeling that he'd been waiting for all day. then he began to move, slowly at first, his hips rising and falling as he rode your cock. "that's it, baby, ride me," you urged, your hands kneading and gripping matthew's hips to assist in directing his movements. “you look so beautiful like this.”

“ah…ah… matthew whined out as he increased his pace, his ass bouncing on your lap as you thrust upwards. He met each thrust with his downward motions, and your bodies moved in perfect harmony. “fill me up. i want you to cum inside me, please!” your cock twitched at the request, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer. you felt yourself reaching your peak as your hands squeezed matthew's cheeks, pulling him down harder onto your cock. with a few more thrusts, your orgasm was finally on its edge. “mmm, I’m so close, baby, so close!” you warned, your voice strained.

"cum with me!" matthew pleaded, building his own orgasm again as he rode your cock. "fill me up!" with a deep and gutteral moan, you came, your cum shooting deep inside matthew's hole. the sensation also sent matthew over the edge, for the third damn time, and he cried out, his body shaking as he came again, his release coating your chest. you held matthew tightly as you rode out your highs, your breath mingling as you basked in the afterglow. "that was incredible, baby," you murmured, planting soft kisses on matthew's neck.

matthew nuzzled into your touch, a satisfied smile on his face. "it was perfect. but don't forget, my ass is all yours. any time you want it." you smirked, already devising a plan for the next occasion when you would have the opportunity to taste and feel matthew's flawless ass. you chuckled, your hands gently caressing matthew's back. "of course, baby. but let's not forget about jiwoong and ricky. they’ve been very patient, and i think it's their turn now.” and with that, you gently eased out of matthew, a mischievous glint in your eye as you turned to face your other two submissive boyfriends, who had been watching the entire time, their cocks hard and needy.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto's First Kiss Chapter 9 Update

Okay so Shoto's First Kiss Chapter 9 is almosttttt done! I've just about finished writing it out but it's gonna need hella edits, so expect it to drop next weekend or Valentine's day weekend? Thanks for your patience here all! It will be a 40-50 page chapter. There's a lot to cover!!!

Posting a snippet of Chapter 9 below as a holdover - the plot is ofc subject to change! But want you to enjoy a lil dramaaaa while you wait! :)

“Well…” Toru says nervously into the phone.

“What?” Hitoshi says blankly, turning to you for an explanation about your friend’s uneasiness with that piece of the plan.

“So. Um. Mineta didn’t volunteer to be our distraction out of the kindness of his heart.” You say awkwardly as Hitoshi’s tired eyes bore into your own. “We promised him that he’d get to kiss me in exchange for his services as bait for Mr. Vlad.”

“Damn. Offering sexual favors in exchange for services rendered? You guys are way more hardcore than I thought.” Hitoshi actually looks impressed. “So hopefully Mineta didn’t say anything about that fun little bargain to Mr. King after he got caught. Sexual Quid Pro Quo is definitely grounds for some kind of legal action or punishment.”

The blood in your veins goes cold. Shit.

“But it was his idea!” Mina shrieks through the phone’s tiny speakers. You wince at the sound. You feel shaky like you might start crying again.

“Yeah but you all agreed to it. And Mineta held up his end of the bargain. This could be really bad if the school found out about it.”

Neito mouths something angrily on the screen and the corner of Hitoshi’s mouth quirks upwards fondly.

“Neito…you’re on mute, babe.” He says in that gravely voice of his.

Monoma quickly unmutes himself and repeats what he was saying:

“But it’s only a kiss! It’s not like we promised Y/N would sleep with him or anything!” He says, gesturing wildly. His face is a bit pink in response to Hitoshi’s using such an unexpected term of endearment.

“It doesn’t matter…you still made a trade of a physical favor for a service. I don’t know what kind of punishment they’d slap you with, but this sort of thing would definitely rub the UA administration the wrong way if they found out about it. Let’s just hope Mineta didn’t say anything too incriminating. I can stop by his dorm and ask him before I got to bed, if you’d like.” Hitoshi smirks. “I think he’s afraid of me, so I’d probably be the best person to do it.”

“Could you, please?” You say in a strained voice. Hitoshi looks over and sees how pale you’ve gone, he awkwardly pats your shoulder in what he must think is a reassuring way.

“Yeah, for sure. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.” He retracts his hand from your shoulder and gives you a thumbs up.

“Alright. I think we’ve mostly got our story straight. Don’t mention the alcohol. Don’t mention me needing to kiss Mineta. Don’t mention Hatsume. Don’t mention Spin The Bottle. Say we wanted to throw a game night to promote unity and bonding between Classes A and B. We good?” You quickly recap, counting off your fingers as you make each statement. “Dang, that’s a lot to keep track of.”

Everyone nods to confirm that they’re aligned (Toru doesn’t say anything to indicate that she’s not aligned, so you assume she’s invisibly nodding).

A message appears at the top of your phone screen from Shoto, a tiny preview of his text reads out in a bubble:

Shoto: You doing alright?

You quickly move to swipe the bubble away, hyperaware that Hitoshi can see any message that flashes across your screen. You quickly remind yourself that it’s not weird for your classmates to check up on you -  you’re one of the party ringmasters, after all! And the message Shoto had sent was completely innocent, so…

Another message from Shoto scrolls across the screen as Toru rattles off a list of questions for Hitoshi to ask Mineta. You try to swipe the message away but you accidentally pull up the text screen over your friend’s FaceTime faces.

Shoto: This sounds awful to say, but getting to sneak away with you to the janitor’s closet almost makes getting caught worth it.  

You swipe desperately to get the text screen to disappear and after a moment succeed. Toru is still speaking, saying something about Hatsume’s drones. You throw a terrified glance at Hitoshi’s direction. He’s looking at you, violet eyes wide with shock. His eyebrows are comically far up his forehead.

Oh yeah, he definitely just got a glance at Shoto’s text.

Oh God. Now he knows.

“Alright, Hagakure.” Hitoshi quickly turns back to the screen and nods in agreement at whatever your friend is saying. His facial expression instantly falls back to neutral –his eyebrows relaxing and his eyes narrowing back to their usual lazy squint. You stare straight ahead and try to keep all of your blood from rushing to your face. You feel hot all over but in a bad way. You don’t know Hitoshi super well, but you know he’s a good person. He wouldn’t spill your biggest secret to the world, right?

Hitoshi seemingly ignores you as he continues talking into the FaceTime. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Alright, I’ll ask him all of that. I think we’re all on the same page – get a good night’s sleep everyone.”

Good nights are exchanged, and one by one your friends drop off the call. Hitoshi clicks off your phone so that the screen goes back. He slowly turns to you, his expression still uncharacteristically surprised.

His voice is as even and measured as ever when he says:

“Holy shit, Y/N. How long have you been fucking Shoto Todoroki?”

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

HAHAHAHAA Okay so yeah that's part of Chapter 9! I'll keep plugging away and hopefully will have it your way soon! For now, here's the rest of the series to catch up on <3

Shoto's First Kiss Series so far:

Part 1: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Part 2: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 3: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 3

Part 4: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4

Part 5: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5

Part 6: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 6

Part 7: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 7

Part 8: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 8

XOXO,

Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

P.S. Here's the link to my 🔥Master List! 🔥 I just posted a new story feat. a super hot and mushy Touya Todoroki if you're into that sort of thing: Touya Todoroki: Sexy Uber Driver!? | Touya x Reader AU Imagine 🌶 💕

[911lsbts]

The end is near—and not just for this spinoff that remained on Fox after the LAPD-set mothership moved to ABC. In a plot inspired in part by a real-life meteor strike in Siberia, the Austin-based crew prepare as an asteroid barrels toward Texas.

“We had this very apocalyptic feeling, just finding out that our show was going to end in Season 5 instead of what we would’ve hoped,” admits showrunner Rashad Raisani, who learned of Lone Star‘s impending doom back in September. “So a big part of this season has been about pushing our characters to an existential threat–level crisis way earlier in life than they would’ve expected.”

Raisani credits show writers James Leffler and Molly Green with the Deep Impact-caliber idea. “They always have these great high-concept ideas that they’ve taken from real life and so they had been wanting for years to do an asteroid storyline, based on an incident that happened in Siberia when a meteor fell and it blew out windows for like 60 square miles…and we just thought, okay, well that feels like the right idea,” he continues. “Sometimes life just takes you where it hurts when you least want it to or expect it, so let’s do that on a grand scale!”

Thankfully, Leffler and Green had done their homework seasons earlier, looking at everything from timelines to the environmental fallout, post-impact. “They had all this research so that we could, as ridiculous as it sounds, really ground this in the reality of what happened in Russia in terms of how the thing hit the atmosphere and then what happened, how it broke apart,” offers Raisani, readily admitting the plot also has a popcorn aspect to it.

“Even though it’s, of course, this sort of absurd billboard-level kind of thing that could happen, we wanted to ground it because again, the hope is — and I think when you watch the episodes, you will see — as crazy as it is, it all ends up coming back to a place of character and how these people go through this crucible.”

Some of them may not go through it well. The action kicks off in the January 27 episode, which features “a flash-forward at the beginning that just makes you go, ‘Oh, my God,’” Raisani previews. “Something really crazy and terrible is happening. As we roll it back, you start to go, ‘Wait a second, this asteroid… Oh God, I think I know what is going to happen because of the asteroid!'” Amid all of the chaos — “our last couple emergencies are motivated by what people do when they think the apocalypse is nigh” — Raisani reveals that the penultimate episode also includes “one of my favorite cases…we have [Seinfeld‘s] Wayne Knight making an appearance in probably the most Wayne Knight role since Newman!”

In the finale, though, there is little room for laughs. As more emergencies erupt due to the fast-approaching catastrophe, first-responders Tommy (Gina Torres), Judd (Jim Parrack), and Captain Owen (Rob Lowe) must either settle or put aside deeply personal matters to save the day along with the rest of Station 126. To wit: Tommy’s valiant fight against cancer, Judd’s ongoing efforts to remain sober, and Owen’s potential career shift. “If we’ve done our jobs, you’re watching these three characters, each carrying around what they believe is an existential burden, about to unburden themselves with each other,” sets up Raisani. “And just at that moment — if you remember what happened in Hawai’i a few years ago when there was that [false] missile detection alert — everybody’s phones go off.” And as 9-1-1 fans know, once that happens, it’s all hands on deck. “The telephone is central to our DNA and we did it that way so that everybody gets that alert, which is how it would really happen.”

What the alert informs our team is unclear, but Raisani will confirm that the asteroid’s trajectory has a very intentional end-point. “We looked at the real city of Austin and thought, ‘What’s the worst thing that could possibly happen and where’s the worst place that it could happen if something hit it?’ And so we started to build the episode around that and it meant putting our team in the most dangerous place they could be.”

Without spoiling anything, we do know that there will be blood. “This will be the most casualty-strewn rescue since the pilot, when the entire team except for Judd blew up [in a factory fire] and died,” warns Raisani. “We decided who should get hurt and who should get hurt the worst in a way to show the depths of both their own characters and the character of the people next to them.” Still, he adds, “I’m a big believer that the worst circumstances of life will bring out the best in people,” promising a massively heroic rescue by these everyday heroes.

“Our final sequence, which I believe may be the high watermark of our series, is literally every character working together and doing their own part toward the same singular goal… It’s all about one single moment.”

[dystopianam]

[DOWNLOAD] 4t2 TRASHCANS MINI PACK (DEFAULT FOR RESIDENTIAL & COMMUNITY LOTS)

I've been wanting to change the default replacement of my trashcans for a while, I didn't find any that I liked...so I decided to convert the ones I liked best! (Or at least the less ugly and with shitty textures TS4 has) - (And sorry for the shitty previews, I'm not able to make them good yet)

Sleek 'n Stink Trash Can is the residential trash can (but can be used in community lots too) it's from High School Years and it come with 9 colours + a invisible rec!

Trash Talking Recycle Bin is the community default trashcan, it's from Snowy Escape and it comes in two versions with 5 colours each!

V1 have neutral colours, V2 have more vibrant and colorful...colors! (Due to the way the file is made, I wasn't able to do recolors and add all the swatches in only one file. I tried to clone the trashcan myself but...for some reason the game wasn't displaying the mesh. On simPe everything was perfect, but in game I saw the original mesh with my texture on!)

So in the end I decided to use an old default file that I already had and edit it to my liking! Please, choose only one version!

(The community telephone you see in the screens is from @tvickiesims )

I compressed everything, and the files should be very clean! Please look for me for any problems!

DOWNLOAD (SFS)

(If the trashcan from the neighborhood view flash blue don't worry. They are not broken, you just have to enter the lot, make a small change (you can move an object or change the swatch of the trashcan), save and it will no longer flash.

This is a problem that occurs when you previously used another default with other swatches. It might even not happen.)

[demonslayedher]

Today I went to the Zenshuuchuu-ten (Total Concentration Exhibition) for the Swordsmith Village and Hashira Training arcs today!

This is basically a chance for Ufotable to be like, "remember that cool thing we did?" and for we the fans to be like, "yup, sure do, that's why we're here."

It's not quite as extensive as other KnY events I've been to, and it doesn't particularly provide any new information, but it's fun to see some glimpses of the process from animation cells to finished clips. There's always a handful of fun displays to interact with, scrolls of character designs, and nice panels to display screenshots, especially centered around character arcs and impactful moments.

This time it was roughly as follows:

1. A room with large screen shots of Muzan the Upper Moons that appear in time with lines from the show and twangs of a biwa

2. A small room with a small swordsmithing game that they hurry everyone through. You need to strike the sword with just the right amount of force to get a ball into the middle of three slots, which I did, so I got handed a little piece of paper which is my certification as a master. I mentioned this to a friend afterword and her response was "of course you did."

3. A room in two parts dedicated to Muichiro's arc in SSV, with a hazy curtain you pass through sort of like Muichiro gaining his memories, and a model of his sword backlit in turquoise

4. A room dedicated to Mitsuri's arc in SSV, including a model of her sword which curves all the way across the room, and a little Mitsuri whom you could challenge to arm wrestling. She beat me pretty easily.

5. A Genya room of screenshots, and models of both his short little sword and his gun. Forgot to mention that their lines were playing overheard in each room!

6. A Gyokko and Hantengu room. A Gyokko only appeared over a model of the vase if you took a photo with flash, and there was a little Hantengu figure to look for, and if you found it, they'd give you a piece of origami paper on your way out of the gallery (pretty much everybody found it, but it was tiny).

8. The dedicated to Nezuko's mastery was not in-your-face triumph, but instead had a TV screen playing the Nezuko tribute music video version of her song, with the lyrics as scattered across the grey walls as the stream-of-consciousness lyrics.

9. Right after that, the staff ushers you in to the Hashira meeting, as though you were late.

Next to the meeting taking place, there is a model of Tanjiro's new old sword.

8. After that is a room dedicated to Giyuu's back story. I liked the design of the hanging screenshots in this one. Although the overall image is "water" because of the blue, the water design with light cast on the floor, and water droplet sounds mixed in with Giyuu's lines, the half-and-half effect was perhaps not intentional, but it was there. When you turn back to look through this room, the hanging screenshots--memories of Sabito and Tsutako--are all black.

9. The rest is a room dedicated to the different stages of Hashira training, with 3-D displays like riceballs, paper airplanes, pancakes with honeycomb and a ribbon, a board with ropes and sword cut marks (yikes), scuffed wooden swords, and a boulder you could push on. Along the tops of these displays were some eyeballs scoping everything out...

10. After that they put you in a theater room with three wide screens and headphones. At the last Zenshuuchuuten they did a reedit of the Akaza and Rengoku fight across three screens, so I figured this would have has plunging into the Infinity Fortress. After a preview review of Hashira Training highlights and Muzan's walk, yup, sure enough things got explosive and they plunged us in via the big screen, including some extra disorientation by zooming really closely in on some moving shots, or having multiple things happen at once across the screens.

11. Then they funnel you into a place with a TV playing the announcement for the Infinity Castle movies. No new content or news.

12. After that, these things tend to have a bright and happy Kimetsu Academy room! You could take photos, but there was a chalkboard with the voice actors have let their signatures and messages for the fans. I appreciated how they seemed to reflect their characters in their comments and handwriting, to some extent (certainly not Matsuoka (Inosuke) or none of it would be legible, but Hayami (Shinobu) has very legible, handwriting, and Hanae (Tanjiro) has comments like "I hope you'll feel like GUWAAA and GAAAAA!"). You could not take photos of the signatures, but you could take a photo of Mitsuri's art and figment of her imagination who says disparaging things to her (despite how she wants her art to make the world happy?? Oh, the irony):

13. The gallery concludes with a hall eyecatch illustrations, and a hall of Ufotable staff art paying homage to their favorite characters and scenes. Always treat seeing things in Ufotable style, but with individual craft and taste!

14. After that, you buy things. This is where they get ya.

Kind of thankfully, it's late enough in the exhibition's run that they've already run out of a lot of the smaller items I was intrigued by, so I behaved myself. I got the t-shirts I was planning on (I love the simplicity of them so so much, and really had to resist getting the paper airplane one too), a Daki ribbon item leftover from the last exhibition (though what I really wanted was Daki shoelaces), and an official pamphlet of the event. My friend got a couple Osaka-only badges,but since she got doubles of Zenitsuup the Umeda Sky Building, she gave one to me.

I really love that "nanikore" ("what the...?") design. It's so simple, and if you don’t know KnY, you might think they're just silly little circus dudes. But people who know will be like, "!!!" and their day will be a little brighter for having seen it.

Gonna do a quick self-reblog now with some extra photos!

[astral-mariner]

Exclusive preview chapter of my pre-DBZ Saiyans under Freeza fic, Homeworld Lost (read parts 1 & 2 already posted here) below the cut. Content warning for graphic violence and many disturbing themes.

This chapter is the third chapter of Part 9: Between the Stars. A little context: Vegeta, Raditz, and Nappa are en route to their third and final scheduled purge planet after taking a long time to recover from some serious injuries they endured while on their previous mission. It was traumatic for everyone, to say the least, and each character has tried to cope with the various events in his own way. Vegeta is on edge for a very specific reason, but Raditz either doesn't speculate or is intentionally obfuscating this reason. Vegeta is in his early 20s here, Raditz in his late 20s.

***

Part 9: Between the Stars Chapter 3: Cui's Assignment

I turned the knife over in my hands. Squeezed it. Channeled my energy through my fingers till it passed through the prism. The blade appeared. I often wondered if Shardonne had ever learned to control what little power she had or if she instead harvested souls like [SPOILER]. Either way, fidgeting like this alone in my pod, I’d discovered that I could sate the knife’s hunger for life energy.

Not that I would know how to use it beyond this or perform any kind of spiritual surgery. I had, like the coward I was, left [Freeza's healer's] secrets to languish with him in his laboratory. Perhaps Arugala’s mother, my patroness, had taught me the anatomy of our chakras as she had her own children, but I wouldn’t know how to mend a soul any better than I would how to repair a body that I’d dispatched. However expertly I’d done it.

Yet when I awoke in a tank at a nearby station, Zarbon had left the knife tucked into my breastplate where he’d certainly found it. As if he expected me to learn how to use it. I’d figured out how to use and corrupt other devices supposedly beyond saiyan comprehension. So for all his talk of ensuring Vegeta’s death once he'd fulfilled his purpose, he’d nevertheless given me a chance to heal him. Equally possible that he was mocking me. Ultimately, he knew what Freeza and [his healer] meant to do to Vegeta where I didn’t, and he would manipulate all of us to secure his desired outcome.

Fidgeting. The blade flickered dangerously above my wrist. I didn’t want to step out of my pod. We didn’t belong here.

Vegeta’s grim shadow fell across the pod’s red window. Hurrying, I extinguished the blade and shoved it back inside my breastplate. He wouldn’t tolerate any delays, and only gods knew how he might punish me if he caught me with the knife. He’d come close several times. Always watching my whereabouts during our breaks from stasis.

He opened the hatch for me. “Sleep when you’re dead, third-class,” he spat.

I got up. Fit my scouter over my eye.

“Where the fuck is he?”

Nappa.

“I’m sure he’s almost here,” I reassured the prince.

“Gods, almost as useless as you.” He paced restlessly. Back and forth, boots grinding the dust beneath his feet. His fingers tapped and twitched where they gripped his bicep.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

He stopped. His back turned to me, I saw only the subtle bristle of his tightly-wound tail. “Cui”—a deep breath—“has humiliated me for the last time. Let him come to this planet and face me if he dares. After I am through cleansing this planet for him, taking half the time, I’ll throw his dust into the wind.”

“But, this planet…without clearance. Freeza might—”

“Freeza will punish Cui.”

“I don’t think Freeza cares what Cui does.”

Abruptly, Vegeta spun to face me. A flash of violet before I could react. The shot flew over my shoulder to strike a ruin stretched across the horizon. It crumbled to the earth with the roar of falling stone and the scream of metal bending, kicking up clouds of dirt and ashes.

Vegeta continued as if nothing had happened. “Took the Ginyus to subdue this planet.” Pacing again. “Freeza gives us such strange assignments. So very strange… Never was about what the Planet Trade needs a saiyan to fight. When was the last time we fought with honor?”

Fuenghi was a great power, having brought us all to the brink of death, but the prince’s question was rhetorical. I’d learned not to speak out of turn.

He stopped and tapped his scouter. Still searching for Nappa’s signal. “There are always survivors of these purges…” Pulling at his gloves now, adjusting them, wringing his hands together.

If it took the Ginyu Force, we could be in for more than a fight, my mind answered him, presuming he wouldn’t hear. He would not be questioned. Ever since recovering Nappa from the pleasure station, he tolerated so much less.

Everywhere we went, rooms fell silent until our sharp hearing picked up the inevitable mutterings about the massacre. Already Freeza’s scourge, now the prince was the murderer of depraved murderers, more merciless and cruel than any who favored their lawless gathering place. He might’ve worn the titles with pride if not for the disgraceful rumors that came with them.

“Nothing to say, third-class?”

“Yes, it’ll be good to have a real fight,” I agreed despite not having listened. “You don’t need to justify it to me.”

“As if I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t.” And I didn’t need one. A worthy opponent to test his strength, putting Cui in his place—rationalizations for himself more than anyone else. He certainly wasn’t the first of his name to confuse our thirst for battle for a lust for blood.

He blasted at the ground a tail’s length off from where I stood. “You watched him get in his pod, didn’t you? You set up the coordinates yourself.”

“I did. You saw him—he was in his right mind before I initiated any stasis protocols.”

“You sent him somewhere, didn’t you? So you could say I forced you to come. That you weren’t responsible. That I was the one to go off course and defy orders.” He scoffed. “Try one of your lies with Freeza and see where it gets you.”

Nonsensical accusations, but I wouldn’t criticize him. “I swear I didn’t,” I said.

“Pray that he arrives soon, then.”

Even if Vegeta had come alone, consequences would fall on all of us. Our disobedience wouldn’t go unnoticed; taking on Cui’s assignment was meant to draw attention. No matter what Vegeta might’ve done to me, I would’ve refused to reprogram our route under any other circumstance. However, this planet must harbor some secret if Freeza had commanded the Ginyus specifically to purge it. More than mere strength, the assignment had required precision and, above all, trust. So I’d gathered from Cui last we met.

I let out a sigh once my scouter finally alerted me to Nappa’s arrival. He landed not far off, and I hurried to his pod. Better that he faced me first with the prince poised on the edge of wrath.

I opened the hatch for him once assured his vitals were stable. He was still groggy, but he recognized me. “I’m glad you’re all right.” Offered him my hand to help him stand. “Just…do as he says. Vegeta is in rare form.”

He nodded, but his knotted brow betrayed his confusion.

“We’re cleansing the planet,” I explained. “Leveling what’s left of the population centers, tracking down survivors. It wasn’t on our itinerary, so don’t blame yourself for not knowing.”

“Did you… Is this the first time you’ve told me this?”

I shook my head as I found his scouter for him, took his hand, and folded it over the device. I had, in fact, told him repeatedly. “You just woke up. It’s been a while.”

His scouter locked onto Vegeta stalking toward us, and he tensed.

“Are either of you done wasting my time?”

I positioned myself between him and Nappa. “I just sent you the updated maps. Got a hold of them right before we left.”

He narrowed his eyes, but scrolling over the data distracted him sufficiently. “If either of you fall behind,” he said once he’d finished his review, “I will leave you to rot on this godsforsaken rock.”

“You mean for us to stick together?” Nappa asked.

The prince laughed coldly. “If I could trust either of you, I might assign each of you different continents in the interest of time. But the fact of the matter is that I cannot.”

He took off without warning. Nappa and I scrambled after him, relying on our scouters when we couldn’t match his speed. His flight cut an angry gash through the red smog. Distant, rapid blasts thundered across the sky in brilliant flashes on either side of the wound. Tracing his path with the scouter’s map, he left absolutely nothing in his wake for us to destroy. He would do the work of an entire crew in a matter of hours if exhaustion couldn’t prevent him.

The prince thus occupied, I could easily slip away. And Nappa might not even realize I’d left with how he’d been. Compunction’s familiar ache churned beneath my ribs as I imagined him stranded and lost above the wastes. A relief, then, that I hardly knew what to look for. What it would be worth sneaking away to find. If Vegeta left anything behind for the finding.

He fired and fired and fired until he couldn’t keep apace with the planet’s rotation, and night caught up with him. And then even the dazzling crashes of energy grew fewer and farther between. Darkness at last came to rest over the devastation, and my scouter indicated that Vegeta had descended to the surface. The map outlined what remained of a settlement through the obfuscation of smoke.

Once I landed, letting the prince have his distance, an energy scan discovered no survivors. Just a few minuscule power levels likely belonging to animals. Smaller buildings clustered together on the outskirts of an industrial compound. The Ginyus had taken care to destroy the machines, hangars, towers, and ships, but had left the rest well enough intact.

On an instinct, I made way for the rubble. Nappa followed me without comment. Vegeta, meanwhile, continued to stalk along the perimeter of the settlement, moving with silent intent. Masking, perhaps, a need for rest. Whatever he pursued, I couldn’t stop him, and it made no difference to me so long as he gave me enough time to pick through the debris before disintegrating it.

Glints of green from my scouter’s glow reflected across generators, glass amalgam, new scouter chips, command boxes, adapted prisms—all recognizable, but each with features slightly different from those laid out in the plans Freeza had gifted me those two moons ago. These were more advanced. Only at the Imperial Academy itself had I come across such technology. And this was at some remote factory—hardly what the planet’s occupants must’ve kept for their ports and capitals.

They would’ve traveled far and known much. Too much. I reached down and sifted through the scouter chips until I’d isolated a few that heat and dirt hadn’t rendered useless. These I slipped inside my breastplate near the stolen knife. In all likelihood, the chips didn’t store any sensitive information, but I couldn’t leave them and wonder.

I looked over my shoulder. Nappa had wandered off. I spun, then tapped my scouter when I couldn’t see him anywhere.

A sigh of relief when the scouter highlighted his silhouette behind a shipwreck. Or not quite a shipwreck, but rather the spilled guts of a newly constructed Planet Trade flagship. One of its landing claws held him sitting upright. He looked up from his hands when I approached him.

“Here, you’ll need this,” I said, retrieving his discarded scouter for him.

He took it, fit it, and squinted at the display. “What time is it?”

“Hard to say, but it’s been hours. I’m tired too.”

He picked himself up, refusing all help, and scanned the terrain of the settlement. “I don’t remember this planet from the briefings.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “We took Cui’s cleansing assignment. A detour so we could get here before his crew did. The prince’s idea.”

“He’s out that way.” He took a step in the same direction.

I gripped his arm before he could take off. “Nappa, we just need to get through this without fucking anything up. He put both of us in tanks last time, and he was already furious with you for being late.”

He hung his head. “It’s because of—”

“It’s because of the drug. I know you took some of it with you. And you won’t get better unless you stop taking it.” The last statement I wasn’t so sure of, but I needed to sound sure in case it were true.

“You took it too.”

“I—” I had no excuse for him, and he would know if I lied. He’d seen into my mind just as I’d seen into his all that time ago. “Once,” I said finally. “And you must’ve seen what’s happened with Vegeta too. So you know—maybe better than anyone—that he needs us to stay—”

An explosion cut off the rest. My arm whipped to shield my eyes as heat and hurled scrap crashed towards us.

A few scrapes here and there, but Nappa and I sustained no real damage. The scouter detected no power levels of any significance aside our own. I had to assume that Vegeta had grown weary of this place and would annihilate us with it if we lingered. No more blasts followed, however, and the ruins fell again into the obscurity of night.

The prince remained where he was, and we followed his energy. We heard him before we spotted the sparks blazing around his fists. Shouting.

“Freeza sent his special forces to destroy the likes of you? If you have any honor left, show me your real power.”

I directed Nappa to land at a cautious distance. Vegeta’s energy lit a gleam of terror across the furred creature’s face.

“If—if you have a ship, we’ll go. Take whatever you want!” it stammered. “W-we gave your people the maps already!”

Vegeta laughed. “I don’t give a damn about any of your maps. Either die a warrior’s death, or meet an end worse than hers.” He channeled more energy into his right hand and pointed it to illuminate a spot some tail lengths off.

There lay the mangled body of another creature. Several of six limbs twisted and broken. One snapped above the elbow, only soft flesh keeping the rest of the arm attached. A black, bloody mess of organs tangled beneath the ribs. Agony still contorted the face.

A shriek.

“What, never seen a battlefield before?” He blasted next to the creature and cackled as it dove into the dirt to dodge it. “Guess not. Hid from the purge too like the cowardly scum you are.”

The prince circled round to his victim’s side. The creature trembled too much to stand and couldn’t answer him apart from whimpers and sobs.

“Pathetic.” He shoved his boot into the creature’s spine. “Last chance to fight back. Show your strength.”

Turning away, I glanced toward Nappa. “I don’t think Freeza sent the Ginyu Force because these people were strong,” I said.

He stared blankly into the sky, smoke blotting out the stars. He was always worse when Vegeta lashed out. There was nothing to be done.

“Don’t think you’re going to fight,” the prince scorned. “Pissed yourself instead—I can smell it on you.”

A hoarse scream followed the deep crack of a limb wrenched from its socket. Pain’s memory echoed through my shoulders, numbness through my fingers. Vegeta had done the same to me when his blows left me shivering and useless. Warm-blooded, the creature must suffer similarly, and though we couldn’t let it live for Freeza to find, its misery served no purpose.

I braced myself before facing Vegeta once more. Before bearing witness to the torture he could easily turn on me if anger mastered him. “They’re just weaklings,” I shouted. “A waste of your time. Let’s get this over with and get off this planet.”

He dropped the creature with a snarl. “I don’t take orders from you, third-cl—”

A bolt of red struck his armor in between his shoulder blades. From a blaster deadly enough to pierce Planet Trade gear, yet ineffective in harming someone of the prince’s power level. He whipped around where he stood in search of the sniper, hands ready with charges.

A pair of smaller beings lingered a second too long before disappearing around a wall’s corner.

Vegeta kicked the creature at his feet. “Are those…your children?”

“No!” A plea rather than a denial.

“They—aha—are going to watch you die.” He tapped his scouter, isolating the trace power levels instantly. He vanished, my eyes hardly able to track him, and the two children had no hope of escape.

“Nn…” The presumed father squirmed towards me. Supplicant, he stretched one trembling hand out to me.

I took aim for his head.

“Aren’t you going to save him?”

Fired.

I didn’t process what Vegeta had said or why until it was too late. My shot had stricken the child who’d dove to protect his father from me. Now he wept over the little body.

I gathered energy into my hand. “These people are a waste. Just kill them.”

Vegeta answered my charge with one of his own. The child he held by the neck didn’t understand that he meant it for me and squirmed as far away as it could. “Defying me, third-class? How sorry you must be that Freeza won’t let me grant your deathwish. Always tempting me… I can control myself, unlike you.” His grip on the child’s throat stifled a scream.

I stood my ground. “Tell yourself whatever you want. But you won’t humiliate Cui by taking twice as long on his assignment.”

He fixed his sharp eyes on mine, sneering, as he leaned more of his weight and strength into his heel until his boot crushed spine and ribs with an unmistakable, wet crunch. “Worthless,” he snarled over the creature’s gargling.

A quick death, at least, if not an easy one. Consequences damned, I vowed that the child would receive an end just as swift even if I had to intervene. All four eyes tightly shut, tears streamed into the dark fur lining its face. Its lips quivered over clenched teeth, and trilled whimpers escaped through them as Vegeta released its throat to embrace the child from behind. Almost as tall as he was, the prince’s mouth was level with its ear.

“Does it make you strong, watching them die?” he said.

I’d heard those words before, and my steps faltered.

“It’s been so long since I’ve fought someone worthy… So long, lying awake, restless…” Abruptly, he let go of the child. “Show me you aren’t as useless as the rest.”

Its limbs buckled instantly, and it tumbled forward into the remains of its father and sibling. Away from Vegeta, I had a clear shot. I awaited only a slip of the prince’s attention. His speed would thwart me otherwise, and he’d deflect the blast.

The child, however, did not merely lie shocked and defeated. Somehow, even with a mouth full of its father’s blood, it summoned the will to rise up from the ground. I knew very little about the child’s race, but the look it turned on Vegeta was one of pure hatred. “Why?” it spat at him.

The prince answered with a crooked grin. “As if I could tell you why the gods have forsaken you.”

“Gods have nothing to do with it.” The child managed to stand. A rise in power level did not accompany it. “You did this.”

“Who are the gods but whoever is strongest?” Again, he seized the child by the neck. “And I am stronger than you. I’m stronger—haha—a Super Saiyan, the strongest in the universe!”

The [SPOILER] I’d seen had been no more than a dream. I was sure of it now. Many times had Vegeta lied, hidden, said one thing and done another, and exhibited more arrogance than his actual strength warranted. After all that’d happened, I understood why. My heart ached for him still. But as much as I’d denied it ever since he’d turned on me on that empty planet, I was beginning to recognize his madness for what it was. And because his sanity was slipping, I knew his defenses would slip too when I finally aimed and took my shot.

Blasted cleanly through its skull, the child died immediately. The body convulsed for a few seconds before going limp. Still gripping the neck while he raved, Vegeta seemed not to realize what’d happened.

“There is nothing but your own strength. The gods gave you a mother and father just to wound you when they were taken away. Better now that they’re gone, and you see the truth. I’ve set you free. Does it make you strong?”

He shook the body, rattled it. He’d come to assume soon enough that he’d spoiled his torture too soon. The corpse could fascinate him only so long. I left him with it to see where Nappa had gone.

He’d found the children’s hiding place behind the crumbled wall. He sat, rocking back and forth, muttering to himself. Something about Savoy. I couldn’t stand to listen. I leaned down and struck him hard across the face.

“We have to get out of here. You’ve got to snap out of it.”

He shook his head, massaged his cheek, and seemed to recognize me when our eyes met.

“Vegeta just needed a moment to rest, but he’ll be ready to set out again soon. He’ll put us in tanks again if we fall behind.”

“Raditz…where are we?”

I took a deep breath and turned my back to him before I could curse in his face. “Fucking gods damn it all,” I ground out. “Shit. Fuck. Can’t fucking take this anymore. Can’t fucking do it.” All of us were mad in our own way, and our next assignment would end in disaster. And all I had was I knife I couldn’t use, empty scouter chips, and connections who meant me more harm than anything else. Vegeta had been right about one thing—the gods wouldn’t help us either. They never had.

“Nappa,” I said, facing him again, “once we leave, we’re going to go through your things and get rid of whatever is left of that drug. Let me do it, or Vegeta will.”

He frowned. Perhaps he hadn’t even understood. Better, then, if he was too far gone to interfere.

“Just follow me, all right?” I took him by the arm. “It’s just a cleansing assignment we took from Cui. There’s not much left. We just have to finish up and leave.”

“Where’s Vegeta?”

“Down that way. Found some survivors and took care of them.”

His brow knotted after he tapped his scouter. Another tap. “He’s gone.”

Fucking gods, I refused to utter aloud. “Of course he is.” I locked onto his energy before he could fly too far ahead. “We’ve got to go.”

[lonewolflink]

Wheel, Snipe, Celly

Ryujin was surprised, but delighted, to discover that Yeji played in the bedroom the way she played on the ice: with tenacity, accuracy, and a touch of flair. -- the ryeji college hockey au

Chapter 12 Preview "Oh?" Yeji asked, a sly smile emerging on her face. "Are you ticklish? "Nope." Ryujin shook her head vigorously. This was a code red; she had to remain calm. "I have no idea what you're talking about." "Are you sure?" Yeji asked, inching closer to her on the bed, sheets rustling with every move. "Maybe I should try again. You know, just to double check." Ryujin's hand dashed to grab Yeji's approaching arm. "No!" They stared at each other for a moment, frozen. And then, in a flash, they were wrestling on the bed, Yeji half on top, getting her wriggling fingers closer and closer to Ryujin’s sides despite the vice grip on her wrist and forearm. Ryujin knew what was coming; Yeji had the upper hand, and was going to overpower her. Of course, angel that she was, Ryujin wouldn't normally resort to dirty tactics—but desperate times called for desperate measures.

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

✨chapter 12✨

Prequel - Smoke Signals (2yeon)

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

[valeheartsdior]

star lust - TEASER

『 pairings: haechan x johnny! reader 』

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

MINORS DNI THIS BLOG CONTAINS EXPLICIT

CONTENT ! 18+

『 preview | johnny harshly whispers in your ear “you’re my little slut who will be taking hucks and i dick in your two little holes baby, but first let me open that pretty little cunt up” he brings up your hand and licks two digits bringing them down to your pulsing core.

Warnings 』// desperate, begging, possessive, throat grabbing, oral, unprotected sex, anal, blowjob, praise, slapping, crying, squirting, finger sucking, multiple reader orgasms, dom/sub reader, johnny dom, haechan dom, mean haechan

© valeheartsdior 2024 - all rights reserved

“Y/N!You’re telling me you got an invitation to the biggest party of the year?”

“But wait you’re debating on going because johnny made sure he personally gave it to you infront of the whole class and he practically embarrassed you?” Your bestfriend laughs

You always seen yourself as a beautiful girl, you had your share of boyfriends through high school and now well college, but after hooking up with Haechan one night after you had more than a couple drinks things suddenly started changing.

“Yes, Johnny is super hot and I would want him on me but I don’t know I guess I’m just scared I will be going into the lions den if I go…” sighing over the phone

“Y/N common you need to get fucked it’s been what a couple months since you’ve actually had someone in you, and from what you tell me they completely don’t understand a girl’s needs!”

Oh god what have you gotten yourself into?

You set a timer for 9 pm, if there was going to be anything that was happening tonight you had to shave from head to toe you had to be ready. As the time passed you started to get nervous thinking how you’ve had gotten manipulated into going, ok no one was pointing a gun at your head to go but the heat in your core was waiting with anticipation if Johnny was going to make a move tonight.

You wore a black mini skirt so mini that if you were to bend over you would flash the whole nct frat house. You paired it with a jean corset that hugged your girls just right making them pop, fuck you looked like a hooker but a mission was a mission.

[cocogum]

Let’s TALK about episodes 9 and 10 people… (part 2)

PART 1 : HERE

(‼️SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4‼️)

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And of course, we got Qilby who’s finally got the eliatrope dofus back and left the chat. I liked how he was talking to Shinonome tho even if she was still in their shared dofus. This taught me that even if one sibling is alive, they can still communicate with their twin in their dofus.

And here we go again with Qilby wanting to make A NEW ELIACUBE. Only this time, he’ll name that one the “Eliasphere”.

Because of this, it was finally confirmed that Lokus was a mechasm. And it all makes perfect sense now.

When Qilby finally reached Lokus’ heart, we get flashes and quick imageries of those very same mechasms. When we pause on every single one of them, we get to see these:

(I love how these mechasms kinda look like biblical angels tho lol)

Yeah, we’re screwed.

And then we’re back with Yugo and my god he keeps convulsing so much I’m so confused as to how he can keep talking so normally after all this.

I didn’t even try to screenshot this at a good angle, this is exactly what happened when I just took it. It’s perfect.

ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS SHOT?!? I know how some of us have seen this scene as a preview for the episode but I just LOVE how good this looks. The colors and the vibe are sending me!! I still also remember how people used to theorize on who this could have been lying down in front of Toross back when we didn’t know it was Yugo. I heard things like Amalia, Nora, Yugo obviously, and even Efrim. Those were some fun times…

Bro. I can’t stop staring.

I know he’s going through hell right now but like….damn he’s built. He’s such a slut.

*clears throat*

😩❤️‍🔥💖🎶DADDY’S HOME🎶💖❤️‍🔥😩‼️‼️‼️

I believe his growth and powers should get elevated to fight stronger opponents which is why I am happy that he grew 🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢 I only want the best for him after all 🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢

Yugo just accepted death when you think about it. When Oropo explained to him what the necromes would do and what would become of him, Yugo was lost yes but he accepted it. He welcomed it even. Right after that, we see him fighting with Bouillon and smiling. He’s smiling when he shouldn’t be. But because Oropo told him he’d make him stop thinking about the outside world, he’s smiling. The slow process of his death was currently happening and Yugo couldn’t do a thing.

That’s what frustrates me but makes me admire Yugo. It’s the fact that he always gets so close to death but when he learns that there’s finally nothing he can do about it, he just accepts it.

I think that’s pretty respectable but….

WHY DO U THINK LIKE THAT?!?!?

Honestly he can be even dumber than Dally sometimes.

He’s such a dummy THAT HE’S SMILING LIKE A DUMBASS CHILD WHILE FIGHTING BOUILLON

I just-

I can’t handle his smugness stop.

STOP!!!

But in all seriousness tho I gotta address Nora.

Because omg Nora.

I genuinely feel so horrible for her.

She spent thousands of years searching for her mother with Efrim. She spent so many years of her life looking for her mother and never gave up. She almost lost the connection and then got it back and when she finally found her, she lost Efrim, then went with her mother and has done nothing else but listen to her mother, give out orders for her, and try to be the center of the family circle so she could keep its balance.

She has realized that she will no longer be able to be reborn like her other siblings and will eventually stay stuck in her dofus for all eternity. She is aware that when she dies, she won’t be remembered by her other siblings and her place in the council of six will fade away as if all those thousands of years spent with them happened for nothing. The only one who will remember her will be Qilby who will think of her as the long-lost sister none of the others remember and will ever get to meet her. She will disappear in the face of the krosmoz and will never come back.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, she gets tricked by Efrim and gets statufied so that her powers can be used by Toross whenever he wants to. Her situation became ironic, even laughable too. Because now, instead of dying and not being able to go back to her dofus, she is physically incapable of moving and will forever be used by Toross. No matter the outcome, Nora can’t come back to her dofus. Compared to Yugo, Toross doesn’t let out a tear at his action inflicted on Nora and instead thanks her. Nora’s last memory of all of this is Toross telling her how the world will have nothing but hunger.

“You can't do this! Have mercy! Don’t make me responsible for the end of the world!”

In the end, her last word was her brother’s name.

Nora deserved more.

All she had done as of now was help others and try to fix what she could. She never stopped to think about what she could’ve done for herself.

That Qilby vs Lokus fight is just *chef’s kiss*

“My brother, my king.”

Qilby is a real legend.

Now some people might wonder why his death was considered a sad one when he can just die, get reborn, and not lose any of his memories. While that is technically true, he’s not losing anything. And that’s exactly why it’s sad. Qilby can’t lose anything no matter what he does. Which is why he had no trouble dying. If dying meant helping Yugo find some way to obtain Lokus’ heart, then he’d do it. Unlike his siblings, he’s the only one able to confidently have that mindset and say it’s nothing to worry about. He did it for his king so that like he told Yugo:

“I hope that when we wake up, the planets will still be here.”

And this is why Yugo cried for him.

Despite being rejected over and over again, despite being called a traitor, despite being called a monster and a killer, Qilby stayed true to himself even until the end. Qilby’s sense of wonder and curiosity, the very same things that had made him look like a freak to Yugo, is what saved his king.

[screams-in-writing]

Still editing ch 3 and going on to outline ch 4 based off how that ch ends. Tentatively going for an early Thursday/late friday post for ch 3, and if Mr. Puzzles behaves, a possible late sun/early Monday post for ch 4.

For now, have a little preview of a later chapter’s scene where the reader finds out that not only are those tv antenna on Mr. Puzzles’ head actually sensitive, but he’s also very much touch-starved.

Note: This is planned to take place ch 7 or ch 9, if all goes according to the outline. It may change, however, and may even change/be split between pov depending on where it falls when editing.

~ Curiously, you reached out to touch the crooked left antenna. 

Mr. puzzles stuttered, but continued to sing, a furrow appearing on the screen of his face as he turned his head toward the camera, as if trying to see what was on the other side. Likely he was unable to, with how many tvs were in the immediate area of the unused area of the strip mall (and powered on, despite the lack of people).

You touch the right antenna next, pinching the metal between thumb and forefinger. 

This time, Mr. Puzzles actually stopped singing altogether as he promptly spoke in a strained voice.

“Dear viewers, please stand by for a quick maintenance break!”

The screen switched over to a ‘please stand by’ screen with Mr puzzles’ tv head logo on it. But within moments, there was a sudden switch to static before Mr. Puzzles’ technicolor smile and digital eyes appeared on the screen before you, wearing a harried expression. 

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?”  Mr. Puzzles asked. Then, with a flash of a sly smile. “Or were you trying to let me know that you’re enjoying the show?”

“Let my coworkers come back. They didn’t mean anything by their teasing.” You jabbed a finger at the screen. “You can’t just kidnap people to use like puppets in your little shows.”

“Little?” Mr. Puzzles sounded offended and incredulous. “I’ll have you know I always strive for a 5 star rating in everything I do. Little.” A scoff, as mr puzzles voice and expression switched again to become smug. Amused with what he was about to say, even if his voice was anything but. It was cooler and deeper. More indifferent yet also Curious. “What would you do if I don’t let them leave?”

“This.” You deadpanned, repressing a shiver over the tone shift as you reached over to sharply pinch both of Mr. Puzzles’ antenna. 

“Ah!”

Before Mr. Puzzles could say more, you squeezed the metal tight before giving it a sharp yank. You expected a yelp of pain or even a digital stutter, but it was quite the opposite. 

Was that…had that been a moan? 

“What in the-? Are you…are these actually sensitive?!” You let go of the antenna like they’d burned you as you took a step back. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize-I thought it was more like the equivalent of being poked or something for you.” You jumped a little when one of Mr. Puzzles’ hand, the arm attached to it, came out from beneath the TV to seize your hand. You thought he was going to bring you into his ‘show’, but that wasn’t what happened. 

Mr. Puzzles merely placed your hand back onto one of his antenna. 

“Absolutely not.” You attempted to pull your hand away, despite Mr. Puzzles’ continued hold of your wrist. “I’m not touching your antenna if they’re that sensitive.”

“Please.” Mr. Puzzles sounded like he was winded, even as he took on a pleading tone. “I liked it.”

“…I think we need to have a conversation about what exactly it is you want with my home town and why you keep popping up everywhere I show up after my roommates threatened you with a garbage disposal for following me around without me knowing it.” You said, eying Mr. Puzzles arm and then his screen of a face. Then, shaking your head, added. “I didn’t even realize that you could experience anything like a human. I thought you were a robot?”

“Mmm…more like a cyborg?” Mr. Puzzles mumbled. “I still have some of a human body. It’s just different than before.” The hand loosened its tight grip on your wrist but didn’t let go. “Please?”

no acknowledgment of how odd it was for someone you knew less than a month was so interested in following you about after work, where he had been ‘filling in’ for the hours you couldn’t work.

oh.

speaking of coworkers.

“Bring my coworkers back.” You countered as you moved your hand out of mr puzzles slackened grip.

Mr. Puzzles studied you for a moment, but must have seen something in your expression that made him sigh theatrically that you were serious. Then, he reluctantly retracted his arm back within the tv (somehow). 

Much faster than you expected, Mr. Puzzles let your coworkers go; you could hear them end up in the empty store next door with yells of surprise followed by confusion, and then at least one of the two burst into loud sobs of terror. 

Swifter than even letting your coworkers go, Mr. Puzzles sprang up off the table, and before you knew it, he’d crowded in on you against the wall. Eagerly, he bent down and shoved his screen into your shoulder, before subtly tilting his head to present his antenna to you. No concept of personal space whatsoever, even if Mr puzzles kept his hands to himself by brace it then on his legs. wait.

Oh no.

You’d inadvertently introduced Mr. Puzzles to another way to get attention from someone. 

Possibly attention from you in particular.

This being assumed, because Mr puzzles soon impatiently straightened up when you did nothing, and, gentler than before, grasped your hand and led you over to a chair. 

You sat down, confused, and ready to point out you ought to go check on your still brokenly sobbing coworker when Mr. Puzzles promptly removed his television head to place on your lap. 

So that was a thing.

Mr. Puzzles flashed an expression up at you in what he likely thought was a hopeful look, but it only came off as desperate and deranged. Aaaand his body had just sat down on another chair as it kind of just went…inert, with the hands resting on the top of the knees. 

Weird.  You distantly wonder why the body horror right before you didn’t draw a big reaction from you. Maybe you were in shock? Maybe you’d seen enough of Mr puzzles antics that day in your home and at the cafe that it didn’t seem any different than those times?

“If you’re going to interrupt my show, then perhaps you could show me why you thought it necessary to tug on my poor antenna?” A huff of breath, then a strained. “But don’t actually tug in them so harshly.” A pause. “Please?”

nope. not when you didn’t know if it was a tactile, platonic thing to mr puzzles to have his antenna touched (unlikely based off what you just saw and heard), or if it somehow brought a sensation of pleasure (more likely, and definitely not something a casual acquaintance asked of another).

yikes.

You don’t think that Mr. Puzzles anticipated that you would do something other than what he wanted. So he was in a shock of his own when you stand up, and totter along while carrying his television head out of the abandoned store with you.

This left mr puzzles to fumble around in the dark as he protested, muffled against where you carried him to your chest, the entire way to another store where you set his television head down, and poked the screen to get his attention.

A gasp of comical offense.

 Mr puzzles’ body could be heard running into something with a ‘thud’.

“You can’t do that to my coworkers.” You point to the screen and then to the general area where crying could be heard. “Especially not when you’re already covering for my work while my arm finishes healing up.” You lean in close to make sure mr puzzles was looking at you. “And you shouldn’t kidnap people in general where no one but you knows where they went. My coworkers friends and family were so worried when they were gone for nearly two days.”

sirens sound in the distance.

one of your coworkers called the cops? Or something unrelated?

Mr puzzles might have said something, to try and steer the conversation elsewhere or make up some flimsy excuse, but you were distracted by both the sirens and realization of the heat emanating from his screen. Since the body wasn’t there to grasp your wrist again, you reached out to rest your fingers on Mr. Puzzles’ screen again, ignoring the stutters and glitching that rose in his voice. 

Huh. 

He really did feel like one of those old tube televisions you’d had when you were younger, complete with the warm screen and fuzzy static sensation.

Mr. Puzzles’ voice eventually slipped into soft pleading. Something about not leaving fingerprints on his face, while you curiously traced along the outside of his screen. It didn’t occur to you in the moment that Mr. Puzzles had feeling in his screen of a face, though not as sensitive of a place as the antenna were.  You’d not even noticed the fact that Mr puzzles body had collapsed only feet from where you were, twitching before curling up and hugging itself to then begin to tremble. You only became aware of the body when its long gangly arms wrapped around your waist in a clingy hug that made you jump and accidentally knock mr puzzles head off the flimsy table to the floor.

The arms let go of you as mr puzzles’ body sprawled out on the floor with a groan of discomfort rising from the television set.

“would you care to try that again so I can get a good recording of that?” Mr puzzles sounded huffy, and displeased as he pat around the floor until he found his head. With a grumble, the tv man picked it up to turn on he screen toward you, mr puzzles wearing a slightly feral, unhinged expression.

you swiftly leave the empty store to go check on your coworkers. Mr puzzles did not follow, but you could hear a low laughter ring out from the room behind you along with a raised, falsely cheerful lilt of a farewell that sounded more like a threat.

“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” A little unhinged laughter trickled out. “I look forward to having another…stimulating conversation with you, my dear.”

Later, when you weren’t looking over your shoulder for Mr. Puzzles, you wondered why he let you touch his face, when he seemed so averse to anyone but him touching his television face, especially when you’d punched him in the screen not a month ago. Not only that, you also came out of the odd interaction with the knowledge that Mr. Puzzles could be successfully diverted from his hyper focus of turning your town into the greatest television show ever (or tormenting your coworkers in one of his shows) with just a touch to his inhuman head, and the antenna that stuck out of that ridiculous hat of his. 

[oraeliaa]

Flash, Bam, Alakazam!

Chapter 9 is up!!

I can't believe we're at the second to last chapter, it's wild <3 Thank you everyone for reading so far, we're in plot city now, folks, hope you enjoy!

Preview

She sat, practically in a nest of bones, staring at the door. She hadn’t been able to sleep, though whether it was from the nap earlier in the day or her own anxiety, she wasn’t sure. 

She hadn’t noticed her own shivering til a coat fell over her shoulders, and she glanced up at Cooper, not having to force the small smile she offered to him. She hadn’t heard him get up, too…focused on the space, on the problem, ahead of her. 

He crouched, inhaling deeply before offering his arm and she took it, moving away from the door. Staring at it wasn’t going to help, after all. 

The fire was practically embers but he still stoked it, adding a few errant sticks and patting for her to join him, sitting beside its warmth. 

“Did I ever tell you,” he began, hesitating briefly before wrapping an arm around her shoulders, “how I got into films?”

[starryriize]

picture perfect | leehan

part 1- the invite

a/n: the long-awaited release of part one! i have absolutely loved making this and it’s taken me longer than i’d like to admit :( this is the first time i’ve written more than 1k words😫i sincerely hope that you all enjoy this!!

1.2k words

pairing: photographer! Leehan and model! reader

summary/preview , part one , part two

-- ✧ --

"Leehan! Did you see the interview?" He turns to his friend, feigning innocence. "What interview?" Taesan rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue before chiding, "Come now, you saw it!" Leehan did, in fact, see the interview. The one that featured the CEO of Omega Watches shaking hands with some high-ranking representative of a model that Leehan didn't care about. He ran a hand through his hair, wondering why Taesan was so excited about a normal interview. It wasn't anything new for a CEO to have new models for the new collections.

Taesan sighed loudly, plopping onto the couch as he leaned his head back, slightly closing his eyes. If there was one perk to living with Leehan, the furniture was always comfortable and stylish. Interior designers should be glad he took up photography, Taesan thought to himself. Facing where Leehan was sitting, Taesan grabbed a plain white envelope. He took a stray pen from the round living room table, sliding the pen through the seal. Taking the paper out, Taesan went silent. It was an invite to the New Year's Gala hosted by Omega. Every year, this dreaded gold-lined invite came, and every time, Leehan refused to go. Events were incredibly draining, filled with hours of talking to people, and doing so-called “networking.”

“Oh? Taesan, what’s in the letter?” Leehan stood up, leaning against the wall, gesturing toward the paper with a quirked eyebrow.

“The New Year’s Gala for Omega. Apparently, the theme this year is fairytale.” Taesan said while smirking, already planning his outfit to capture the hearts of many at the party. Leehan sighed in annoyance, knowing he’d have to go to the Gala this year. There was no avoiding the CEO, but more importantly, he had to keep good relations with the CEO. 

“I’ll come with.” Leehan paused, “I have to make sure I still have my contract with Omega.” Leehan muttered under his breath, not wanting to admit that he did want to see the newest collection of watches. Leehan, despite all his complaints about parties and not caring, did in fact enjoy the socializing. There was a rush of adrenaline that he got from the flashing lights, the sparkles, the car ride from their shared apartment, and the whole feeling of living life fully. It was the same rush that he got from being in the airport. He loved moments where he felt like time was suspended, as it made him feel like the main character of a New York Times bestseller. 

But Taesan wasn’t stupid, he saw right through his friend. Shrugging, Taesan smiled. Sarcastically commenting, “Sure. You’re definitely going for the contract talks.” He paused before adding, “Also Leehan, I hope you know that the Gala is this coming weekend at 9 pm outside the Omega Pop-up store.” Taesan continued talking about the details of the party, where to park,  who to avoid, and most importantly what to wear. As far as Leehan was concerned, he wasn’t interested in the who’s and what’s of the party. But Taesan was right, they needed outfits, and ones that would fit the theme perfectly. Taesan retreated to his room, spending what seemed like hours, deliberating over which silk shirt looked best. Deciding that he needed his friend’s opinion, he called Leehan to tell him what he thought about the silk.

Leehan sighed for the fifth time, muttering, “I say this with love but the silk isn’t it. You look like a dress up pirate not a fairytale prince.”

Taesan audibly scoffs as he flicks through the various shirts before pulling out a hanger. “Yes. Yes. I’ve found it!” He turns to Leehan, holding a white ruffled shirt with puffed sleeves and a ruffled collar. It was the epitome of a fairytale if he were in Tangled that is. "I think I look good." Taesan smirks at himself in the mirror, proud of the "princely" fit he pulled out of his closet.

"But what do I wear?" Leehan sighed, staring at the rows upon rows of shirts. Flicking through the blues and whites, he stopped, staring at a navy blue dress shirt. Pulling it off the hanger, he placed it down, moving to find a matching vest or jacket. After he finally found a suitable vest, embroidered with white crystals and made of white satin. He figured that would be enough and that he'd plan the rest of the fit later.

-- ✧ --

12 hours away, you'd gotten the same letter. You knew this wasn't an event you could call sick to skip mainly because your face was going to be all over the adverts at the entrance of the party. Glancing down at the letter, you read it out loud, wishing the flight wasn't so expensive and wondering which outfit you could possibly wear.

We cordially invite you to our New Year's Gala. We plan to introduce our newest "Timeless" collection. Our theme this year is fairytale! We hope to see you there. Yours Truly, Omega Watches.

Smiling, you knew you could finally pull out the butterfly top that you'd been influenced to buy when you were shopping with your close friend, Yunjin. Carefully removing the resin-jeweled top from its protective covering, you quickly grabbed your favorite pink satin skirt.

Glancing at the clock, you realized you had less than two hours to catch your flight to Incheon. Gingerly wrapping your outfit in a small carry-on, you grab your mother's Yves Saint Laurent crossbody and begin locking up your apartment, double-checking everything. You knew that your manager had already sent your pre-packed bags to Incheon, so what else did you need? You glance your eyes over your jewelry, stopping at the gold heart bracelet. Deciding you can never have enough jewelry, you grab the bracelet and place it in your purse.

Soon you were on a plane, miles from Incheon with adrenaline filling your veins. Just thinking about finally seeing your adverts in person, meeting new people, and socializing, words couldn't describe how excited you felt.

Upon landing in South Korea, you were taken aback by the stunning views and how it felt so much like home. You had been to Korea once before, but you were so little, that everything was a blur. The hustle and bustle of Incheon Airport made you feel calm, suspended in-between time, where you were neither here nor there.

Taking out your phone, you snap a quick picture of the views from the airport entrance before scanning the taxi lane for your scheduled car. You were told to look for a black Jaguar XKSS, remembering your manager saying that the car was "vintage-looking" and something "out of James Bond."

Some 10 minutes later, you see a car that looks as though it came from the Bond films. Ah, that must be my ride. You thought to yourself. The front door opened and a tall, somewhat American-looking man strode to where you were standing. You glance toward him, analyzing his movements as he opens the trunk for your luggage. The man offered his hand for you to shake, introducing himself as Jaehyun. You confidently shook his hand, introducing yourself as well.

"Let's get you to the hotel." Jaehyun jumped excitedly, placing your luggage into the trunk. The car's capacity was, well, smaller than you expected. You knew it'd be a vintage car, but you didn't think it'd be as tiny as you thought. It was a two-door car, so you had to be seated in the passenger seat.

Just as you were getting comfortable, Jaehyun mentioned, "Going to the Omega Party? Ah, you'll get to meet Leehan and Taesan!" Leehan? Why was that name familiar to you? You tried to remember why he was familiar but then gave up remembering that you'll probably see him at the Gala.

-- ✧ --

For both you and Leehan, the moment you enter the doors of the Gala, lives shall be changed.

[kdrama-mama]

My observations of/thoughts stemming from episode 9 of DFF:

- Tan is New! Strongly suspected that would turn out to be true, either him or White but after we heard “phi” then White seemed unlikely.

- I think Phee genuinely caught feelings for Jin, but couldn’t pursue a relationship bc of his feelings for Non. Without Tan/New, I wonder if Phee would have been so harsh in dismissing him. There’s been a lot of moments in the past and present of Phee looking after Jin when he’s not looking that seem genuine to me.

- It appears (but hasn’t been shown for sure) that Phee is confessing this all to Jin. I doubt he will take it well, he clearly carries an extreme amount of guilt for what he did to Non (which, honestly, deserved).

- So we now have an explanation for most of the sightings of masked killers/possible ghosts - Tan’s special herb that makes people hallucinate what they feel guilty about. But does it cover everything? What about the one on crutches?

- Tan seemed genuinely thrilled about the chaos they had sewn. Fuck, he deserves justice, which he’ll never get. I can’t blame him for enjoying the chance of revenge.

- THAT BEING SAID, I’m going with my thought last week in that I stil think there’s something else going on besides Phee and Tan. They were trying to drug them to get confessions. They didn’t talk about murders, just about scaring them. Tan is clearly enjoying the fallout of the ones actually doing the murdering, though.

- Preview for next week has a flash of a scene with Non’s body on the ground and Keng’s slumped on top of him, with gangsters standing nearby. What if Non survived and he’s taking out revenge? Although, how would he know to do it when the party was kind of a spur of the moment thing? Again, I still think Tan and Phee were legit distraught by Uncle Deng’s death.

- Why would White hallucinate a bunch of blisters/boils all over his skin? Is his worst fear an STD? Why would that be? <far-fetched idea> What if White knows Non because the gangsters trafficked Non into prostitution, and he met White there. And White is working with Non 🤔

- Mio was the standout this episode for his acting as Tan/New. He did an excellent job for an emotional role.

[cattimeswithjellie]

Stream Recap, PearlescentMoon, 6/26/24

(A terraforming stream with Pearl! I only recapped the first two and a half hours because after that she went to play Decked Out. Decked Out is awesome and very fun, but I am not the person to do recaps and analysis of it.)

Pearl 6/26

4:00 Pearl opens her stream on audio-only. She welcomes the chat and thanks subs and donos. Today’s plan is episode prep and exclusive previews! Pearl is going to the gaming district to work on the portals and podiums! There will be terraforming and detailing! A chatter is disappointed they missed Decked Out, Pearl says Decked Out just happens sometimes. A chatter asks about Replay Mod, Pearl says she uses her cam account with Replay Mod for timelapses, because otherwise the chunks unload when she leaves to get supplies and it makes the timelapse flash. Pearl’s computer can handle two Minecraft instances at once, sometimes three! A chatter jokes about raiding Tango later, Pearl scolds them playfully and says not every stream is going to be a six hour stream, and she’s got no redstone to do today.

9:00 Pearl switches to game view inside her storage room. Hbomb has been tempting Pearl with the Hardcore Decked Out challenge he has been doing lately (collect 50 tomes with no deaths). She hasn’t decided to do it, but she is tempted. The cats are also being very distracting. Dyeductions is officially open now, but nobody has played yet. Pearl is sad. She flies to the flower shop and shows off the new improvements to the game. Hard mode isn’t ready yet, but there’s a new word for the week and all the new textures for the letters are serverside. It just needs players!

14:00 Pearl heads to the gaming district, to her build-in-progress for the district portal. Pearl is not entirely happy with the build, it is functional but not excellent. It needs more trees and texturing. Chat thinks it’s a cute building. Pearl hoped to have all this done last week, but it’s nearly done now. A chatter asks about a Soup Group collab, Pearl loves collabing with Impulse and Gem but this is Season 10 and there are lots of Hermits on the server to work with! A chatter asks about games in the district, Pearl is going to build an enlarged version of her Bin-Go game from last season, with a red light/green light mechanism added on. She was thinking about a different, larger game but that’s for next season now. She has so many projects!

21:00 More talk about the new Bin-Go game. There will be challenges to help players get items faster and lessen the running. Pearl waxes her copper and quickly disclaims any suggestions that she might build Decked Out 3. That is Tango’s baby and she is nowhere near that skill level. A chatter suggests Decked In, where hermits just relax on deck chairs, Pearl thinks Keralis has that sewn up for the season. She begins chopping down trees and shaping the landscape. Chat asks what she’s enjoying about this season. She likes everyone being close together, it’s fun! She also likes learning redstone and the solarpunk theme for her base. Chat shouts out the mail system. Pearl also likes the mail, but she wants it to do something new and exciting with it.

28:50 Someone suggests gamifying the mail system to make people use it, Pearl would like people to want to use the mail without needing an extra game for it. Chat suggests the ability to mail lit TNT. Pearl thinks that’s probably not a great idea. Pretty dangerous. Someone suggests hot potato in the mail system, but Pearl knows it would just get stuck in someone’s mailbox. She’s going to brainstorm with Etho and Tango for ideas. Pearl is so low on stone that she had to pay 12 diamonds for two shulkers. It’s terrible! Chat continues to toss in more game ideas.

33:30 A chatter mentions they just watched 45 minutes of Scar in an audio feedback loop. Pearl has heard a little and is curious about that, what exactly happened there? Chat explains Scar’s audio woes from 6/23, when he left three instances of his stream running on his desktop and all looping on him for the first 45 minutes of his stream. Pearl can hardly believe that. “Oh Scar,” she says. She asks if he somehow didn’t notice. Chat explains that he knew but he didn’t know how to fix it and he couldn’t read the suggestions in chat. The tabs were hidden and he couldn’t find them for awhile. Pearl is sympathetic and also laughing. A chatter asks if Pearl is the mail lady or the flower lady, now that she has her flower crown. Pearl says she is always the mail lady, he shop does not define her! Plus she has not started advertising flower crowns yet, since hard mode on Dyeductions is not ready yet. Pearl may put up a leaderboard and make a competition, just to get people coming back. She also should probably stock the shop at some point. A chatter suggests building a postbox at the mining desert to increase mail usage, but the mailing desert, like Doc and Joe’s bases, is just really far away.

40:00 A chatter asks if Pearl will do a facecam stream soon. Pearl only uses facecam for special occasions, MCC or charity events or cat streams, but otherwise she likes to be able to relax. Facecam streams bring some pretty unpleasant chatters out of the wooodwork and Pearl prefers to avoid it. She takes another wide look at the build and decides she needs more spruce and coarse dirt for the terraforming. A chatter asks what Pearl thinks about the Minecraft movie, she cannot offer an opinion about a movie that doesn’t exist yet! She does not think she will watch a Minecraft animated series. She didn’t play Story mode, this is also not her cup of tea.

47:00 Pearl used to watch cartoons and anime, but not really very much anymore. She did watch and enjoy Arcane. She discusses subs and dubs with Chat, she prefers subs but usually watches shows while doing something else, which makes it tough to read. She talks with Chat about superhero shows. Pearl is burnt out on superhero stuff; she used to like it but was way overexposed by the huge deluge of shows and movies all at once. A chatter says they have been watching since HC2 but have never watched a stream before. Pearl welcomes them in, she is honored to be the first. A chatter asks what Pearl likes to watch in her free time; it’s pretty eclectic. A lot of times it’s just her friends’ streams, but sometimes movies from her childhood, whatever’s streaming on the streaming services, etc. She’s been watching and playing a little Stardew Valley lately. She specifically does not watch her own old videos, that is too awkward. She especially can’t watch Evo, old her making awkward content. Chat is very fond of Pearl’s old content, especially Evo.

57:00 Pearl talks a little bit about her Stardew Valley game, she played a little of it for fun just before stream. She gives a chatter advice on what to do after the community center is built. Pearl has never been interested in any of the relationships in Stardew Valley, but she’s trying to get into it in this current playthrough because if people really like you, they will give you stuff. Also there’s more game content you get access to with relationships and she wants to see more of that. So far Hailey is her highest relationship, and she is trying to win people over by giving them diamonds. She talks more about Stardew Valley strats.

1:03:00 A chatter asks Pearl who she has known the longest on Hermitcraft. She has known Gem for a very long time, longer even than she’s known Grian. ((Many Hermitcraft fans first knew of Pearl as a member of Grian’s build team before she joined Hermitcraft.)) They met before either of them were really making videos seriously, on a mutual friend’s creative server in 2016. She met Grian that same year, so they weren’t too far apart in time. In eight years, she has only seen Gem twice in person. A chatter asks how she met Grian. Pearl applied to his build crew in 2016, back when he was doing a lot of build tutorial videos and such. Grian doesn’t really have a build crew anymore, he is more likely to just ask his friends for building help when he needs it, but back then he took a chance on Pearl. A chatter is dismayed to realize that 2016 was eight years ago. Pearl says 2016 feels like a long time ago, but she graduated uni in 2017 and that doesn’t seem like so long ago! That’s the really weird part.

1:05:00 A chatter asks how Pearl met Mythical Sausage. She met him a little after Grian, she found a livestream where he was playing a modpack she was curious about. He had an open server going on to experiment with the modpack, she joined, and they’ve been friends ever since. It’s a small world! Pearl met Jimmy SolidarityGaming during Evo for the first time. They shared that server and Legacy SMP as well, but she didn’t know him that well until Empires Season One.The terraforming is going well, but Pearl needs to restock on mud bricks. She has a lot of project shulkers and has to go through them to find what she needs. A chatter says they watch Pearl’s EVO POV all the time. Pearl laughs and says there is old content of hers that she can watch, but not EVO. She was so awkward and cringy, it makes her feel bad for Grian! The chatters reminisce fondly over Pearl’s 2016 “Edgy emo” Minecraft skin. A chatter asks if Pearl’s DMs are open, she says no, she does not like to be contacted that way. A chatter remembers that Joel’s edgy skin era was Shrek; she laughs and asks “isn’t he still Shrek?”

1:09:30 A chatter says that their daughter is in the emo phase now and will definitely cringe later. Pearl agrees that’s all part of growing up. Everyone has a cringe stage and that’s okay. Pearl is pleased with the look of the portal and adds a few touches of moss for greenery. She does not love how dark the grass is in the dark oak biome. Dirt does not look good next to dark oak grass. Pearl does not like this biome. A chatter agrees and was surprised that the S9 Shopping District was in a dark oak biome. Pearl had forgotten that, but after all, there wasn’t much natural biome in the SD by the time they were done with it. A chatter asks for Minecraft drops, a month late. “NO CAPES!” yells Pearl.

1:15:30 A chatter asks about what redstone game Pearl will make in the gaming district. She tells them it will be Bin-Go, bigger, better and different than last season. She gives a little advice to the chatters who are still worried about redeeming their cape drops. A chatter asks how Pearl got so good at Minecraft building. She says she started with an oak box house just like everyone else, it’s practice and patience. Too many people watch building streams and think they can dive right into building big great stuff on their own, but you need to practice. Everyone has their own pace, everyone has the same blocks to work with.

1:22:00 Pearl runs out of jungle wood and runs home for more. She tells Chat that next week she’ll be working on the interior of her shop and that’s when she’s going to finish the audio for Dyeductions. A chatter asks about the Ore Snatcher and she admits she’s not following that storyline very much, but she’s getting big Cub vibes from the whole thing. He is, after all, the guy who built an entire museum last season based on stealing things from other Hermits. Pearl herself has had her head in Dyeduction 6-8 hours per day, she’s got no time for plotlines and not enough nerve to stick her hands into Doc’s redstone for any reason. If she had to guess, though, she’d put a stack of diamonds on Cub. Chat tries to fill Pearl in on the Ore Snatcher storyline thus far, but a lot of them are misinformed on at least one important point and there’s a lot of in-chat debate.

1:30:00 Pearl backs off for a look from far away and likes what she sees. She hears about the Glitcher sign and is rather offended that anybody would think of her when seeing a sign like that with a dollar sign replacing an S. Plus if it _were_ Pearl, there would be a lot more high-key pranking by this point. She and Chat go through the possible suspects and speculate on likely suspects. Now Pearl is curious, mostly because she wants to be right that it’s Cub. Chat agrees that Pearl is way noisier and more obvious when she’s trolling. Chat wants to know who Pearl would have for a lawyer (herself) and what she would wear to court (her cleaning lady outfit.)

1:37:00 Pearl has been using music and scented candles to relax lately, she got some good candles from Aldi. Chat hopes she has been listening to the llama song on repeat, she has not. She has been listening to some of the Eras Tour lately. Chat is pleased to know that Pearl is a Swiftie. Pearl says she appreciates a good entertainer. Pearl lies home for more dirt and coarse dirt. It’s a very dirty terraforming project. Pearl and Chat talk about various concert tours.

1:43:30 Pearl looks at the overhead shot of the portal. She needs to make decisions about color palettes for the stairs and such, but it’s hard without knowing what the road is going to look like. Nobody has started making the roads yet. Usually one person starts making roads and everyone else follows along, so Pearl could probably design the road herself if she wants to. She and chat discuss possible road blocks and how they would affect the gradient of the portal build. Chat suggests lining the road with PICKLES. Pearl likes that idea, nothing but pickles and grass! Gem would love it. Chat also has other, more helpful ideas. Pearl’s been giving the pickle thing a break lately, even though she loves nudging Gem and the easiest way is to sell out her shop. There’s nothing worse than overdoing a joke, but pickles will have their season again! Karn raids into the stream, he died 25 times on Elden Ring. Pearl scolds him playfully for spending two hours trying to brute force a boss he was underleveled for.

1:52:00 Pearl runs out of packed mud and heads home. She pauses by a house (Cleo’s?) that has had all its trapdoors flipped up and jokingly speculates on who could _possibly_ have been playing with that roof. ((Definitely Gem.)) Pearl talks about Elden Ring with Chat. A chatter thanks Pearl for getting them into Stardew Valley, Pearl is happy to take credit for that. Karn eventually comes into the room and audibly defends himself over Pearl’s mic. Pearl is unconvinced by his arguments. The phrase “Whacking and rolling” is repeated about ten fifteen twenty times. Karn uses his best Scottish accent to bid farewell to the stream and heads off. Pearl admits that she knows there is more to the game than whacking and rolling, and eventually she will play it one day.

2:00:00 Pearl color tests some stair ideas and realizes that one set of stairs is lopsided. She fixes it, which means doing a lot of retexturing along one edge of the stairs. It is 1am Pearl time. She is a bit yawnsome and decides to have a snack. This portal, she tells Chat, will not be iconic but it will be very functional. She observes that two hours of terraforming seems way longer than two hours of redstoning. When snack break is over, she gets back to work on making rocks. She and Chat talk about music and mooning, and about visiting Australia. A Chatter asks her if she’s in NSW, she says she is in Victoria. Pearl admits that while she’s doing what she needs to do in regards to building, her heart isn’t in it as much as she’d like right now. She wants to be making more games!

2:13:00 Pearl realizes she’s made a mistake in dirtying up her path with incorrect dirt. She needs a break from this build to stimulate her brain pretty soon. Chat suggests bothering Impulse, but he is gone. Pearl laments again that nobody has played Wordle this week. Chat suggests stalking Zed with a spyglass, but he is in recording mode. Besides, spyglasses are so last season. A chatter asks how many days have passed on the server so far, but Pearl doesn’t have access to that in her stats. She shows off some of her other stats from the season so far. (193k jumps! 24K mob kills, mostly endermen. 3K note blocks tuned, which confuses her until she remembers the whole fish slapping thing.) Chat wants to know about pickles, but she has only placed a modest 458 so far.

2:20:00 Pearl is running low on tuff, but not out yet. The tuff bricks are very satisfying to place. A chatter asks if she’ll watch Twitch Rivals, which for once is at a reasonable Australian hour. Pearl is not sure, 11pm is not crazy late for once, but she still might be in bed. She looks at the player list. She doesn’t know most of the players and is not sure who she would root for. She collects up some more tuff, but she is almost out even in her storage room. A chatter drops a large dono and Pearl pauses to thank them. A chatter suggests teaming up with MCC for competitive Decked Out, Pearl lets her sassy side out and suggests that would be a short MCC due to skill issues. Pearl wistfully wonders if she should just go play Decked Out. But no, she has work to do! She tells Chat about Hbomb’s hardcore challenge and what cards she has encouraged him to get or avoid.

2:32:30 Pearl runs a poll in chat on whether she should play Decked Out or keep building. The vote is fairly close, so Pearl decides it will just be a couple of runs, then come back and build. Chat is disappointed that there was no “chaotic murder spree” option, but Pearl points out that Grian is the only one available to murder and he might not appreciate too much chaotic murder. She backs out for one more look and is actually starting to like the look of the portal and path.

2:40:00 Pearl pays a visit to the Gamers Outreach Donations Monolith. She fondly reminisces about how bonkers the viewers are and how much money was raised. She would like to build out the road from the Gaming District to the monolith. Chat wants Pearl to murder Grian _so_ bad. Or rather one chatter wants Pearl to murder Grian so badly that they sent 200 dollars in donations to encourage it. Pearl appreciates the dono but she cannot be bribed. Gem can probably be bribed. Chat wants a poll on murdering Grian, but this is not up for a poll either. Joe Hills raids into the stream. He has been working on his skin for court and wants to show Pearl. Pearl is cool with this idea.

2:48:20 Joe flies down and greets Pearl. He is wearing his “Lawyer” skin, which is the Juppet skin in a skintight green jumpsuit with asymmetric sleeves and a big white @ sign on the chest. He was inspired by the lawyers from Star Trek. Pearl asks if they asymmetry is a distraction tactic. Joe explains that in the present, justice is seen as an attempt to find balance, but in the future the system recognizes the inherent futility in seeking true balance and instead seeks justice within the natural asymmetry of the universe. Or something like that. Pearl doesn’t get it either. She confirms that he still has the weird puppet mouth. Pearl asks when court is, he says it’s tomorrow and she can be in the gallery if she is not sleeping. He wishes her good luck with the stream, she wishes him good luck in court, and he heads out after a brief false start where he tries to fly without his elytra. Pearl sympathizes with that classic Hermit move.

2:50:00 Chat is a bit confused by Joe, Pearl thinks he will do well in court because he can make lots of logical and extremely weird arguments. Chat doesn’t believe he will do very well because he is Doc’s lawyer. Pearl does not actually know the details of the case, but Chat explains that Doc has basically admitted to unjustified pigslaughter a dozen times already. Pearl thinks that sounds intriguing, so if she’s awake and not doing video stuff, she might drop by and watch. She asks if there isn’t supposed to be a jury, chat explains the Bdubs system of jurisprudence. Pearl wishes Bdubs good luck.

2:54:00 Pearl drops to the standby screen to switch to Decked Out. She insists she will only go four hours today. ((Spoilers: she does not.)) Chat is very bloodlusty today and willing to back it up with money, Pearl hopes to slake their thirst for violence with Decked Out shenanigans.

((Despite her insistence that she will A: only play a few rounds of Decked Out and B: only stream for four hours, Pearl spends the next nearly-two hours playing Decked Out and does not make it back onto the Hermitcraft Season 10 server. Decked Out is very fun and probably deserves its own set of treatments from a dedicated recapper, but this particular recapper has more than enough to do just recapping Season 10.))

4:37:00 Pearl says it’s time to finish up and thanks subs and donos. She is going to do more terraforming, but it will be offstream. She’ll be back streaming on Friday! She raids into Impulse and ends her stream.