#Vision Board Studio

[visionboardstudio01]

[qualitywizardunknown]

[dallaji]

Hope we make it to the Cloud.

♡ bada lee x idol!reader / NSFW❗

SUMMARY: Amidst an identity crisis, you try to adequately prepare for your solo comeback. The lyrics have already been perfected, the song recorded and the visuals pinpointed. However, your creative team is not fully convinced by the choreography you came up with. They decide to send over one Bada Lee to help you finetune your jumbled ideas and bring harmony to your vision. You just have one specific request: the routine must include a trampoline.

WORD COUNT: 10k

CW: eventual smut, bada is 100% a giver and not a receiver in this jsyk (but i promise it makes sense in context), hinted voyeurism.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was meant to be pure smut but it became much longer than i intended ... oops for that . . . lets just roll with it!!1 also the choreo described is heavily inspired by tinashes bouncin.

- you don't care about those 7k words worth of boring build up? skip to this line: <After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?”>

————— ୨୧ —————

The first thing you notice is how surprisingly gentle her voice is. 

“I’m Bada, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

Bada Lee stood tall in front of you, clad in an oversized jersey, cargo pants and a cap hugging her forehead in such a way her eyes were entirely obscured from your view. She promptly bowed after she spoke. Unsure where to look, you dropped your gaze and followed suit; vaguely aware of her seniority and bowing deeper.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” You tried to keep your own voice as neutral as possible, but agitation bubbled in your chest as you felt your manager’s prodding, eager eyes behind you. “Thanks for being here.”

Your team was much more excited about this collaboration than you were.

None of the aggravation you felt was Bada’s fault. It had been three weeks of your creative team dismissing every choreo draft you came up with: Three weeks of sleepless nights at the dance studio, tiring out yourself and your background dancers. Three weeks of browsing through videos sent in by other choreographers across the country, attempting to mix bits and pieces together but none of it ever feeling right. Three weeks filled with reminders of a deadline looming over your head. Three weeks of your team letting you know they had little confidence in this comeback. Your last attempt at showing them what you had come up with had ended up in a shouting match. Your manager, who you otherwise got along with just fine, bluntly stated that, perhaps, this concept simply wasn’t something you could pull off.

It had left you feeling betrayed. Your creative team had agreed it was time for you to approach a more mature concept, something that you felt was years overdue. But it seemed their definition of mature and yours were wildly different. You had worked hard on perfecting a set of songs to choose from, but you immediately butted heads with the rest of the team. You wanted to do the bouncy and playful R&B track. Your team wanted the EDM track. Eventually they relented, but now seemed hellbent on making it as difficult as possible for your vision to come to fruition. Putting together the visual board for the concept photos and the eventual music video was a similarly arduous process. You had to meet in the middle and sacrifice a lot of your initial ideas, but that procedure was almost pleasant compared to what you were dealing with in regards to the choreography.

Every idea you put forward was promptly shut down. Too complicated. Too boring. No TikTok challenge potential. Too sexy.

And maybe it was true. Your formations weren’t as clean as the ones thought up by a professional choreographer, but you weren’t really given a chance at all. It wasn’t like you were a bad dancer either. Far from it. You picked up choreos incredibly fast and had always played an active part in brainstorming past routines alongside your background dancers. You had more experience than most of your peers, yet you were treated as if you were still the same teenaged trainee from years ago.

“Is that really how you all feel?” You had whispered after your manager dropped that bombshell, searching for an answer in the facial expressions of your creative team. Most of them were not even willing to meet your eyes. “We just need to be realistic.” Your manager stated matter-of-factly. “That other song is still an opt—” “I am not changing the song.” You cut him off. Momentarily, your manager looked like a fish on dry land, gasping for air. “Sorry.” You added quickly, albeit a bit flustered. “Look,” He sighed, “We can do mature without shocking the nation. Let's keep it mild for now and maybe after two or three more singles, you can go all out.” “I haven’t been 18 in years, you know.” You retorted bitterly. Something inside you understood where he was coming from, but you had been obedient since your debut- how much longer should you wait? You didn’t want to sacrifice any more of your creativity, so many years into your career. You had even seen one of your own concepts go to a labelmate instead, your own team dubbing you too “youthful” to pull it off.  “Okay, how about this,” He began with a frown, “Let us pick one of the choreographers’ drafts for you. You can finetune it with their guidance.”

Their pick had been Bada. You hadn’t even realized she sent in a draft: at one point you were so overwhelmed you just stopped checking your emails. You also hadn’t bothered to watch it before this meeting. You were genuinely too deep in your feelings about that whole ordeal for that. However, now that she was standing in the studio, tall height towering over you, you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious. 

You had seen Bada around.

After all, she had worked with many of your labelmates before. You had also watched a fair amount of her videos. She was one of the best in the business, and whenever you had downtime to practice freely you scrolled through her routines on Youtube to help stay in shape. As you were facing her, even with half her face hidden, you understood why everyone was so stricken with her. When she had walked into the room she oozed with authority, though not in an obnoxious way.

“Great!” Your manager clapped his hands, effectively breaking your train of thought. “Thank you so much for supporting us, Bada. Shall we jump right in?”

“Sure,” She nodded eagerly, hands wringing together as her body turned towards you. “I kind of wanted to see what you had in mind for this choreo.”

That surprised you, and you were certain your facial expression wasn’t hiding it. Your manager held his breath. “Oh! Well—” You chewed on your lip as you vaguely motioned the corner of the room, trying to find the words. “I wanted to use… I wanted to use a trampoline.”

Bada immediately turned her head to follow your gestures, her eyes landing on the mini trampoline set up in the studio. “A trampoline?” In the background, your manager heaved a sigh.

You purposely ignored him and nodded, slowly: “I can show you, if you want.” You had hoped that sounded more self-assured to her than it did to you.

Bada scratched her chin, still looking off to the trampoline, and then nodded along with you. “I’d love to see it.” 

You felt the tension in your chest ebb away. There was no malice to her tone; she seemed genuinely curious.

Then, Bada turned her head towards your manager, her ponytail falling off her shoulder. “I hope I'm not imposing but, I would like this to be a collaborative effort between the two of us. I think it would take the pressure off if you…?” She trailed off with a kind smile, one impossible to say no to.

As if he got doused with cold water, your manager stood up with an urgency. “Privacy! I can give you two some privacy, no problem!” He fussed around, gathering his things. “Just let me know when we can sit in on the finished product.”

The both of you bowed to him as you bid your farewells, watching him leave the studio with a wave. Once the door shut behind him, you could feel yourself exhale in relief. You knew that if your manager was going to sit in on every practice, he would go out of his way to shut down all of your ideas. Without him around, you had more opportunity to champion your vision- at least, you hoped so.

You craned your neck, looking up at the ceiling, before letting your eyes fall shut with a sigh, almost forgetting there was another person in the room.

“They’ve been on your case, huh?” 

Bada's soft but clear voice broke you out of your spell, and you turned your head to search for a glimpse of eye contact. Tough luck, as her hat was still in place casting a shadow down her face. There was, however, a knowing smirk playing across her features.

“You have no idea.” You muttered honestly. Bada laughed.

“I don’t want to make you dance a routine you don’t fully stand behind. I did mean it when I said I want this to be a collaborative effort.” Bada spoke carefully, but sincerely, her fingers once again intertwining. “I always wanted to work with you, so it’s an honor.” She added.

If you got a penny for every time you were caught off guard today, you could set some humble savings aside for an early retirement.

It is true that you’ve been sought after, but it wasn’t something you had ever internalized. Hearing it come from someone who herself was heavily sought after, made your face heat up.

“T- thank you. It’s an honor to work with you too.”

She bowed her head humbly, glancing over to the corner of the studio again where the trampoline sat, waiting. “Do you feel comfortable showing me what you have been working on?”

You nodded and rushed to the corner to set up your speaker, and then dragged the trampoline to the center of the room. You were oddly aware of your own presence, and almost felt the urge to make yourself smaller as you moved around. In the meantime, Bada was getting comfortable: she had dropped her things on a nearby table and left out a bottle of water. To her it must be a regular working day, but to you this felt scarier than getting up on stage.

Once you stood behind the trampoline, facing the wide stretched mirror filling up one side of the room, you stole a glance at the choreographer who was now crouched on the floor. She had pulled out a small camera and was setting it up on the edge of the table, making sure the lens was focused on your position. Long fingers fiddled with the buttons, and her tongue was prodding the hollow of her cheek. The angle allowed you to finally catch a glimpse of her eyes.

As if on cue, she glanced up at you. Your eyes met in the reflection of the mirror and your heart raced.

She gave you a soft smile and moved to sit cross-legged on the floor, the camera now fully set up. “I usually record everything, so we can watch it back and give feedback.”

Right, of course.

“Yeah, that’s usually how we operate as well.” You spoke timidly, and it was true. Yet something about having her attention on you felt more intimate. Usually there was at least one other person from your creative team looking on as well.

Trying to come across casual, you tied your hair up in a high ponytail. “What do you think of the song?” You asked curiously.

It was now Bada’s turn to be caught off guard. Her smile faltered and she broke the eye contact you had been sharing, clasping her hands together as she spoke. “I like it.” She began. “A lot, actually. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. There isn’t anyone doing a song like this nowadays.”

Even though her body language was confusing, you couldn’t find any dishonesty in her voice. What she said made you feel relieved, some of your insecurity fading to the background. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. 

You sent a smile her way even though you weren’t sure she was even looking at you. 

Proving you wrong, she smiled back.

“Alright, so,” You gestured to the trampoline at your feet. “The idea is, the other dancers and I all do the same routine. I'll be front and center. Four or six other dancers dance behind me, with their own trampoline.” You gave the trampoline a light shove with your foot, making sure it would stay in place, and then grabbed your phone. “Then you have an idea.” 

You looked over your shoulder at Bada and gave her an inquisitive thumbs up. “Ready?” You asked.

Bada pressed a button on the camera and mimicked your thumbs up with a smile. “Ready when you are.”

You faced the mirror again and shook your shoulders a bit, forcing your body to loosen up. After twisting your neck a few times, you hit play on your phone, quickly placing it under the trampoline as the familiar synths of the song started blaring from the speakers. You tried to feel the confidence you were usually able to conjure up on stage, closing your eyes and swaying your hips, ponytail moving from side to side. 

As soon as you heard your own voice through the speakers, instrumentals going deeper, you got into position. Your eyes opened up to focus on your own reflection in the mirror as if it was a fan in the crowd watching. Mouthing along to the lyrics, a playful smile on your lips, you hit every move as you had envisioned. Once the chorus came up, you dropped to your knees on the trampoline, grappling the edge as you performed the routine. Pushing back against the springs gave you the velocity to keep your moves fluid, your body twisting and turning, flipping over and hitting the next move. You made sure to move your hips deftly, aware that you had enough curves to allow you to pull it off, and kept your facial expressions in line. It had to look effortless. 

You felt your ponytail swing along with your movements as if it were an extension of you, and sat up on the trampoline. The chorus came to an end and you used your arm strength to twist yourself around fast enough, gracefully falling back on your chest whilst keeping your toes en pointe in your sneakers. The tips of your fingers were touching the floor as your legs crossed, moving to rest your elbow on the edge of the trampoline and resting your chin atop your palm. You lip synced to the final words of the chorus, gaze alluring as you finished the move, and the music stopped.

You slowly sat up straight on the trampoline, crossing your legs, and slid your hand underneath to hit pause on your phone. You looked towards Bada expectantly, but the question got stuck in your throat. She was staring at you, mouth slightly agape, with an unreadable expression. For a split second you were reminded of your trainee days, when you had just finished a routine and were met by your choreographers’ stern faces; they wouldn’t spare you a single compliment, and instead listed off every mistake you had made.

But then, Bada blinked once and then twice, as if in a daze, and let out a soft “woah”. She started applauding you, shaking her head in bafflement. You felt your shoulders drop in relief.

“That was incredible!” The choreographer took off her cap, fixing her bangs before putting it back on. “You came up with this?”

You nodded slowly, the tips of your ears glowing hot. “I used to be a gymnast.”

“I can tell—” Bada spoke bluntly, but then snapped her mouth shut as if she said something wrong. “I mean, that was really good. Every part of your body was in command. Your team didn’t like it?”

“They think it’s too much, compared to my usual routines.” You had the urge to go off on a tangent, but ultimately you didn’t know Bada well enough. Unfortunately, you were naturally quite expressive and the disapproving frown on your face was on clear display.

“Too much? I kind of wanted more, actually.” She laughed softly, looking down to where her legs were crossed. You felt your heart skip a beat and bowed your head in lieu of a thanks. 

Subsequently, the bright green light of the camera caught your attention. It was still recording. 

“Hey, I think the camera is still on.” You spoke before you realized, and hoped it didn’t sound accusatory.

“Huh? Oh!” Her expression was almost akin to a child being caught with a hand in a cookie jar, the way she swiped at the camera to turn it off. “Sorry. Good call.” She mumbled shyly, tucking it behind her. 

You weren’t sure what to say next, still flustered at her lofty praises, but luckily Bada broke the momentary silence.

“I had an idea…” She began, her hand rubbing at her chin pensively. “I don’t know if you’ve had the chance to watch my draft yet?”

You shook your head abashedly. “No, sorry, I honestly didn’t get to it.”

“It’s fine.” Bada waved her hands dismissively. “Maybe instead of doing the trampoline routine in every chorus, we could only do it in the middle? Exactly as it is. I wouldn’t change anything. And then for the other two choruses, we could keep some key moves but keep it on the floor.”

You mulled it over for a second, glancing up at the ceiling contemplatively. Using the trampoline the whole way through was not an option, according to your team. They had felt you were toeing the line with ‘raunchy’ much too closely. Perhaps you could find middle ground this way, while still keeping the part of the routine you felt most proud of. 

“Okay.” You agreed, nodding slowly. “We would need something special for the final chorus, then.”

“I had another idea for that, if you’re fine with it. Would you like to watch my draft with me?”

————— ୨୧ —————

Her draft was good. Really good, actually. 

Bada and you were sitting on the floor next to each other, the taller girl holding her phone out in front of you as the draft played on the screen. You were sitting quite closely together, but not close enough to be touching, a conscious decision on your part. You were a bit too aware of her presence, something about her was heightening your senses in a variety of ways. It wasn’t even as if she was stern or unkind, she just had an aura that intimidated you. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.

A blonde girl you didn’t recognize was dancing your parts. Six other dancers, one of them being Bada, were in formation behind her performing the choreography perfectly in sync as your song played in the background. While you should really be paying attention to the girl in the center, your eyes couldn’t leave Bada’s figure. In the video she was dressed in loose-fitting cargo pants, just like today, and a crop top. Once again she wore a cap covering half her face, and even a face mask, but her hair hung loose over her shoulders. 

You were always impressed by the small movements she was able to squeeze in, emphasizing certain parts in ways the other dancers weren’t able to. However, it was the final chorus that had your hands turn clammy.

The final chorus was a duet formation. Bada, with a quiet confidence in her step, and the blonde girl moved towards each other in the center of the room. They were effectively dancing for each other, the blonde girl whipping her head back as Bada stared her down, swaying their hips together rhythmically. Their steps were coordinated in such a way they almost mirrored, Bada rolling her body one way and the blonde girl moving the other; but it still felt cohesive. It was an intimate choreo. There were a few split moments of hips grinding against crotches, but it never lasted long enough to be straight up inappropriate. Still, you couldn’t help but realize you would have to practice this routine with Bada as well, and you felt yourself getting hot under the collar.

The choreo ended with the blonde girl giving Bada a playful shove, and the taller girl backed away slowly, a saunter in her step, before moving off the screen along with the other background dancers. The video ended and Bada dropped her phone in her lap, not looking at you.

“That was good.” You were relieved your voice came out evenly, and Bada started nodding in her trademark way, hands clasped together. “The formations were really clean and— I loved the final chorus.” You blurted.

She smirked, head raising and meeting your eyes for the second time today. You were starting to feel eager, greedily watching. 

“I’m glad to hear. We definitely need to finetune the first chorus, line it up with your routine and all that. I really don’t want to lose your input.”

“That sounds great, thank you.” You felt a surge of gratitude in your chest, and shot her a wide smile. “I’m looking forward to working on this together.”

Bada dropped her gaze again, worrying her lower lip. You felt miffed at the brusque interruption of your shared eye contact but didn't show it. 

“I suggest we start with practices tomorrow, we will edit the first chorus as we go,” She whipped out her phone, looking at her calendar. “We should practice the duet together until you’ve got a handle on it, and then I can bring over some of my guys to prep for the actual performances. I know someone for my part. He’s worked with some of your labelmates before, I’m confident he’s right for the job.” 

You couldn’t tell if you were anxious at the prospect of practicing such a choreo with Bada, or if you were disappointed that the eventual product wouldn’t be performed with her. It made sense, though. If your label was already worried your concept was too mature for the country, having two women perform such a choreography wouldn’t be received well at all. 

“Great. Same time tomorrow, just the two of us again?” 

“Same time tomorrow,” The third time she was willing to meet your eyes, and once again with a small smile playing across her features. “Just the two of us.”

————— ୨୧ —————

Working with Bada the past few days has been surprisingly easy. 

On the first day, she brought some iced coffee for the both of you and presented it with an exaggeratedly deep bow, holding out the plastic takeout bag in front of her as if she was a lackey presenting you a treasure. You giggled, muttering an incredulous “thank you” as you took the bag from her hands. Through sips of coffee, the both of you fast forwarded through the recordings trying to piece the choreography together. You were able to bounce ideas off of her in a way you never felt comfortable enough doing with other choreographers. Bada was attentive, patient and, above all, eager. 

On the second day, you wanted to repay your debt and entered the studio with a box of doughnuts. She let out a surprisingly girlish squeak when you laid the box on the table, and barreled over to grab one. That day she was wearing a beanie instead of a cap, something you inadvertently preferred as you could now lock eyes and take in her features. Sometimes you had the impression she was hellbent on looking anywhere except into your eyes, but you didn’t want to mull it over for too long; some people just had a different way of interacting. Everything else about her still left you with a warm feeling.

Sometimes you both took turns performing for each other. She would pull her beanie further down her head as she took the center of the studio, and each time something inside you would brace itself. You could only watch in awe: her movements were sharp and magnetic, her entire body language changing in the blink of an eye. While your attention should be on her footwork, you were instead hypnotized by the sway of her hips, greedily drinking her in. You chalked it up to her being such a captivating dancer.

However, little could explain how much you relished in her undivided attention. When it was your turn to copy the moves, you made sure to give it your all and put on a show. Without a hat obscuring her eyes, you could tell where her eyes were looking and it wasn’t always on your reflection in the mirror. You swore you could feel her gaze burning in your lower back, but you didn’t mind. It encouraged you to hit your moves a bit harder than you usually would.

“You’re a fast learner,” Bada said at the end of the day, drinking from her water bottle as you watched her throat bob. “Keep it up and you won’t need me anymore.”

You didn’t like the sound of that.

————— ୨୧ —————

By the fifth day, the both of you had started working through the details of the duet. 

The familiar song sounded through the speakers, the room filled with the sound of your singing voice and the squeaking of your sneakers on the floor. 

You were painfully aware of the way Bada closely danced behind you but you kept your eyes down, forcing yourself to keep track of your footwork. You bent over slightly at the start of the next line, your hips popping out and letting your hair whip to the side as you hummed along to the lyrics. In tandem, Bada moved her hips the opposite direction but gyrated closer to you, her hand coming up to tug her cap lower. You spared the mirror a glance for a split second, realizing Bada was much closer to you than you had realized, but you pushed the thought away.

You looked good together.

“Pause real quick.” She spoke suddenly, stepping away from you and bending over to stop the song. You immediately halted your movements at the command, trying to control the heaving of your chest and willing away the warmth of your cheeks. 

She stood up again, meeting your eyes in the mirror before steadying herself behind you, body close to yours.

“You’re doing great, but,” A tentative hand slid to your hip, fingers curling over in a loose grip as she subtly urged it to move to one side. Both your eyes remained locked through the mirror. “I think we should move together in this part. Like this.” She repeated the motion, her grasp on your hip tightening ever so slightly before pulling you flush against her pelvis. Her hips rocked along with yours, and you could only follow. 

She hummed close to your ear, and you felt her breathe along the side of your face. “Just like that.” Her voice was quiet, gentle even, though her stare was everything but that. It was intense. 

In an attempt to sound casual you replied with an “okay”, but it came out softer than you had hoped for. 

Her eyes dropped from the mirror, opting to look down at you directly, but you couldn’t find the confidence to return the favor. “You should do that thing again," she continued quietly, "Where you throw your hair back, but look at me when you do it.”

You repeated your steps, but this time both her hands came down to hold your hips in place. You turned your head as requested, your hair falling over your shoulder as your eyes finally met. Her gaze was intense but undecipherable; she hadn’t been looking at the mirror at all this time.

Bada was so close, unblinking and heady. The thought entered your mind before you fully realized: if you craned your neck you could kiss her. In a careful motion, you felt her hands slide up and down slowly, smoothing along the curve of your hips.

“Perfect.” She said, and it sounded so intimate you felt lightheaded. Usually she voiced her approval with an animated smile and a thumbs up, but she spoke to you as if she was scared you would set off running. “You got it. You want to try that again with music?”

You nodded slowly and her hands dropped from your hips, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. As she bent down to turn the song back on, you brought the back of your hand up to your cheek; checking if it was as warm as you felt. Then you ran your fingers through your ponytail, tightening the hair tie with a sharp tug in an attempt to snap yourself out of whatever daze you had fallen into.

It meant nothing. She had merely workshopped a move and there was no need to feel so nervous.

The final chorus of the song began thumping again and the both of you got into your starting positions. Bada’s presence was palpable behind you, but you tried to force your head back into performance-mode. You kept your moves sharp, lip synced as if the voice came directly from your own throat and smiled playfully at all the right lines. 

As the instrumentals of the final chorus got louder, you twirled a finger around your ponytail, playing with the imaginary crowd in front of you. Bada pressed up against your back. Your hips moving in tandem just as the choreo required and you could no longer repress the urge to grind back against her. You saw Bada smirk in the mirror, her eyes obscured by her cap, but you could tell she was enjoying your blunt display of confidence. That made you laugh for real, putting an extra ‘oomph’ into the roll of your hips, dropping even lower, and feeling Bada take what you gave her with a great amount of enthusiasm. You heard the choreographer let out a "woo!" and you giggled.

At the very end of the choreo, you were meant to face Bada and push her away; making room for a final solo moment. So you turned around, meeting that familiar mischievous grin and your hand came up to curl into her collar. Bada sucked in her lower lip, greedily towering over you and looking down expectantly. 

But something about the giddy atmosphere had you feeling bold, so you tugged her even closer instead. Her mouth fell open, but she followed you down nonetheless, eyes becoming half-lidded. You were mere inches removed from each other, and her breath fanned across your face. For a split second her gaze lingered on your lips, and you held your breath, heart fluttering in an unfamiliar feeling. A fleeting thought told you to bridge the gap, pull her impossibly closer by the grip you had on her collar, but your body acted before your brain could. 

You reached for her cap and tugged it off her head, putting it on yourself in one swift movement and then shoved her away as you were supposed to do; effectively breaking the spell. You turned on your heel to look back at your reflection in the mirror, consciously blocking Bada from your periphery and closed out the song. The music stopped.

Now that the studio was quiet you could hear the both of you catching your breaths, and rather than facing Bada while your face was still heating up, you flopped onto the floor, limbs spread out. You moved Bada’s cap atop your face, blocking out the bright lights of the practice room, feeling exceptionally winded. 

You felt Bada sit down next to you and she promptly pulled her hat off your face.

“Ow,” You uttered lamely, arms coming up to cover your face instead. Surely the shame you felt was on wide display and you had to save the little bit of the reputation you had left. You could already hear her voice, albeit uncharacteristically, echo in your head: “What was that?” “Why didn’t you just stick to what I told you?” “That was highly unprofessional.” Your stomach churned.

But instead she said: “That was incredible.”

“Huh.” You exclaimed unintelligently. You tentatively moved your arms from your face and were met with Bada staring you down, her hat back in place. It would probably be too weird if you went back into hiding, so you dropped your arms uselessly. 

“That was incredible,” she repeated, a fond smile on her lips. “You are incredible. I’m telling you, we’ve got a hit on our hands.” She extended her arms excitedly, as if she had to convey the sheer magnitude of potential you both had crafted.

“You really think so?” You sounded breathless, the warmth in your chest blossoming. 

“I know so. Seriously? If your team doesn’t like this, they’re idiots.” Her bluntness kicked a laugh out of you, and you playfully whacked her knee. “No, I mean it!”

“It wasn’t too much?” Slowly you sat up, tugging at the front of your shirt clinging uncomfortably to your body from the sweat.

Bada tilted her head, blinking at you sympathetically as she weighed your words carefully. 

“I’ve already told you,” her voice was quiet, as if she was worried someone else might overhear, “I can’t get enough of you. The same goes for the public, by the way.” 

That made you want to kick your feet like a teenager, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fought the impulse to fall into her arms. Instead, you dropped your head with a timid smile hoping that did enough to show your gratitude. 

Bada placed a hand on your shoulder with a touch so soft she might as well be reassembling a broken vase, urging you to look at her. “Let's take a break, order some bubble tea and then watch the recordings. Sound good?” 

You leaned into the touch with exhilaration. “Yeah. My treat, though.”

————— ୨୧ —————

The tenth day coincided with a photoshoot in the morning. You had gotten up at 4am to get to the location early enough so that there was enough room for your stylists to get to work. 

The first thing you noticed was the visual board you had worked on tirelessly a few weeks prior.

It had changed.

Some of the images jumbled around or left out entirely, replaced by ones you did not recognize or even liked to begin with. Even the color scheme had changed. Before you could ask your manager about it, however, your hair stylist beckoned you to follow her into the booth. Still groggy, with just a protein shake in your belly to keep you at bay, you followed without objection.

But then, after you emerged fully made up with your hair in intricate braids and ribbons, you saw the backdrop you were going to work with and the outfits you would be wearing: they looked nothing like what you had agreed on. 

Once sown into the baby pink corset, you looked at your reflection in the mirror with a glassy expression, too exhausted to even express the anger that was simmering in your chest. 

“What happened to the costume I commissioned?” You asked your manager in a flat voice, fully realizing you wouldn’t like whatever the answer would be.

“Oh,” But he didn’t sound surprised at all, “We didn’t really like how it turned out, so we decided to go with something else. Pink looks good on you, you know.” He added hurriedly. 

You blinked, clenching and unclenching your jaw. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene in front of all the staff. Firstly, it wasn’t their fault; secondly, word got around quickly and the last thing you needed was a trending blind item about diva behavior. With great difficulty you swallowed the venom down your throat and walked over to the camera crew without sparing your manager a single glance. Bowing to everyone separately, you turned on the autopilot. You just needed to get through the day. You posed for the flashing of the cameras, turning your brain off.

“That’s a wrap! Great work, all.” The photographer’s voice snapped you out of your daze, and you slowly stumbled away from the backdrop, blinking back tears.

“Great job everyone, thank you for your hard work.” You hoped your voice sounded even and hurried away to get changed.

Once alone in your dressing room, you bent over the sink with your hands in your hair. You didn’t understand. They had seen the choreography Bada and you had worked on, and approved. They had been enthusiastic even, and it felt like your team and you had finally buried the hatchet. Now you understood why they were so pliant in their acceptance of the final choreo; they had found something else to exert their control over. You didn’t want to cry, so you grit your teeth and untied your hair, fingers smoothing out where the braids had been.

Bada.

In the bustle of the early morning you had almost forgotten you were meant to start your first practice with the entire dance crew today, with Bada as the lead choreographer ensuring everything played out exactly according to your collaborative vision. It had been almost two days since you had last seen her, yesterday being a day off for the both of you, and for some reason it felt like a lifetime.

You wanted to see her, but you weren’t sure if you could dance today.

You arrived at the studio about an hour later, right on time, with most of your makeup cleared from your face and dressed in joggers and a crop top. This time you were sporting a cap as well, hoping the dancers wouldn’t notice the fatigue etched on your face on your first day with them. 

Everyone was already there. Some dancers stretching, others practicing and a few watching the recordings while in deep discussion with Bada. Her flannel shirt was bunched up at her elbows as she made grand gestures with her hands, explaining something to the dancers in front of her. As the sound of the door opening and closing filled the room, the tall girl perked up mid-sentence, shooting you a wide smile. 

“Hey! I got you some coffee.” She spoke brightly, walking over to you in big strides as her loose braid fell off her shoulder. You had just finished bowing to everyone when you turned to Bada, feeling your chest swell at the sight of her. “How was the shoot?”

She must’ve noticed something. Perhaps it was the sag of your shoulder, the way you bit your lower lip or the exhaustion in your eyes; but her smile faltered slightly when she got a closer look. 

“It went alright.” You spoke neutrally, unable to meet her eyes but adding a nod to come across as reassuring as possible. “Thank you for the coffee.”

Bada stood a bit helplessly but seemed to understand that prying any further would be futile. “Of course, it was my turn, after all.” She smiled carefully. “You wanna get started?”

“Let’s do that.” You agreed, hoping that dancing would get your mind off of things. 

Bada gathered everyone together and gave a small speech, making a conscious effort to do all the talking so you could comfortably hide the swelling insecurity you felt deep in your chest. You nodded at the right times, smiled at the dancers (some of them peeking at you in awe) and tried to come across relaxed. 

Once Bada finished talking, she called for everyone to get in position as she strode to the far end of the room, where she had the most optimal view. You moved to the front, right next to your trampoline, facing the mirror and vaguely took note of a tall guy with a buzzcut who now stood in the spot Bada did when you had been practicing with her. Something about her not being part of the dance anymore, even though you perfectly knew this was going to be the plan all along, made you feel even less secure.

You shook your limbs loose, trying to empty your head for the sake of the dancers who were all blind to your inner turmoil and instead incredibly excited to be here. You did not want to waste their time. Once again, you forced yourself into auto pilot. 

The song started playing, bubbling synths building up to your first lines, and you danced. You danced as you had practiced with Bada, but weren’t able to envision the crowd in front of you. Instead you relied on muscle memory, which worked out well enough. Even when the tall guy was behind you for the duet, hips grazing yours, you didn’t feel very aware of your surroundings at all. Sometimes you all had to stop midway when Bada noticed that someone was offbeat or out of position, but you slid back into the moves easily. The team was strong, too. You danced the choreo once, twice, thrice and a fourth time. When you grabbed the guy’s collar, you pushed him back immediately, unlike what you had practiced with Bada, and finished your move.

Bada clapped her hands together with a cheer.

“That was solid, everyone!” She strode over, giving everyone a thumbs up. “Some things we have to smooth over, but we are way ahead on schedule. Let’s take five. I— Are you okay?”

You barely realized your own actions until you felt the warm tears run down your cheeks. You had sat down on the trampoline in such an unceremonious way, body shaking from exertion as you tried to hold back hiccups. Panic began crawling up your body and into your throat. Suddenly aware of the dancers seeing you in such a state, you took your cap off and held it in front of your face.

“Actually, since we are ahead on schedule, let’s make this a short day.” Bada’s authoritative voice declared to the entire room. The dancers nodded along nervously, glancing at your hunched figure with palpable worry. “Great work everyone, make sure to get home safe. Same time tomorrow.” 

You croaked out a soft “Thank you, everyone” through your fingers, but your voice was barely audible. You couldn’t face them.

Footsteps rushed around the room, the dancers gathering their backpacks off the floor. You barely registered the hushed voices slowly echoing further and further away from you, until the door shut with finality; a lock sounding in place and silence reigning over the space.

Bada’s hands came to rest on your shoulders as you felt the trampoline sink with her added weight. Then she pulled you into her arms with a tenderness you had never experienced from anyone before. Your arms tightened around her frame in instinct, dropping your cap onto the floor, and your heart constricting painfully as you hid your face in her chest. 

She didn’t speak as you hiccupped soundlessly, letting the exhaustion pour out of you with quivering shoulders. Bada’s hands traced comforting lines along your back, her cheek pressed against the top of your head as she waited for the trembling of your body to subdue. In turn, you tried to focus on the steady rise and fall of her chest, her breathing lulling you. 

After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?” 

You glanced up at her, tears still running down your cheeks as you choked back a particularly pathetic sob. “I’m sorry…” 

Bada let out an affronted gasp, bringing her hands up to cradle your face instead and letting her thumbs wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Please don’t apologize. Tell me what happened.”

“My team,” You began with a slurred speech, “They still don’t believe in me. They don’t think I can pull this off.” 

Your voice sounded heartbroken: “They make sure to remind me every chance they get. My manager is certain I am going to embarrass the nation, because there is only one thing I can do and it’s not this. I can’t be sexy. I don’t have good ideas. And maybe they’re right! I don’t have the charisma to pull this off. My fans are going to hate it, because it’s not the person they wanted to support—” There was nothing you could do except keep going, like a faucet running, and Bada let you, “—I can’t even wear what I want. My visual board was cybercore inspired. I had a red PVC two piece outfit custom-made, but they put me in a pink dress and ballet shoes.” You added, horrified; not at the clothes, but at the clear disconnect between your team and you.

Bada, who was nodding along to your words with a serious expression up until that point, chuckled at your words, thumbs still catching tears. “Well I always thought you looked like a pretty princess, but that’s indeed a bit on the nose.”

The follow-up to your rant died in your throat, eyes widening at her words. Your brain was short circuiting. “You think I’m pretty?”

The taller girl scoffed at that, brows furrowing. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.”

“Why?” You asked, genuinely.

For a moment she gawked at you, deep in thought and searching your face for insincerity. Bada was unable to find it. 

“It’s not the only thing I think of you.”

Something about the atmosphere in the room changed when she spoke, and you almost forgot why you were upset in the first place. She carefully tucked your hair behind your ears, her eyes staring into yours unblinkingly. It reminded you of the way she had looked at you during practice days prior, when you had pulled her close by her collar for the first time. Her attention on you was suffocating, but you were glad to be drowning.

You sucked in your lower lip for a split second, releasing it, and waited with bated breath for her to continue. Her eyes dropped immediately, following your movements. She slid one hand down to the crook of your neck, slowly, the tips of her fingers tracing along your skin and leaving shivers in their wake; her other hand curled under your chin with a loose grip, tilting your head back slightly. Your head felt so heavy you could only lean in closer, wanting more of something you couldn’t even put in words.

But as always with Bada, she seemed to know what you wanted before you could open your mouth and ask for it. She closed the distance, brushing her lips against yours in a soft peck, and it was when you realized she was also holding her breath.

Her thumb trailed along your jawline, breath fanning over your lips. “Is this okay?” She asked quietly. You placed your hands on her thighs to brace yourself, your own lightheadedness overwhelming you, and nodded.

There was a shadow of a smirk on her lips when she kissed you a second time; lips connected with more force this time before gliding together in tandem. She tilted your head to get impossibly closer to you, her hand moving from your chin to tangle her fingers into your hair and cradling the back of your head. When her lips parted and closed around your bottom lip, nipping eagerly, you inadvertently let out a soft noise at the warmth of it all which only seemed to spur her on further. 

You curled your hands into the front of her shirt as her back straightened, crowding around you as if her goal was to subdue, the trampoline creaking underneath your shared weight. She seemed to relish in overpowering you, inhaling sharply through her nose when you parted your mouth for her further.

You felt the tentative prod of her tongue, and accepted. The wetness made you shiver as she swallowed your quiet gasps. The hand that was previously nestled against your neck slid lower, began exploring along the curve of your waist and feeling the bare skin your crop top couldn’t reach to hide.

She parted the kiss, and you let out a soft whine. Biting her lip in an attempt to hide her smile, but ultimately failing, her eyes were drinking you in. You could only imagine what you looked like as even Bada was flushed all over, chest heaving from excitement. Then, as if she was reading your mind, her eyes glanced over to the mirror in front of you. 

Bada shifted her position behind you, running her fingers through your hair before ultimately placing her palm against the other side of your waist. Steadily, as if she were correcting a move during practice, she turned your body to face the mirror. At this rate you simply accepted the effect she had on you, and wordlessly obeyed her ministrations. She planted her feet on the floor, long legs on either side of you; and ultimately caged you in, nestling her chin into the crook of your neck. Her eyes never left the mirror.

She brushed some of your hair over your shoulder as if she were propping up a doll, and spoke in a hushed voice: “Look at yourself.” 

The sight made you feel all the more dizzy. Through half-lidded eyes you barely recognized your own reflection; hair slightly mussed and lips swollen and lovebitten. Someone did that to you. Bada did that to you. 

The taller girl, pressed up against you, placed a kiss on your shoulder, fingers running up and down your body and making the hairs on your arms stand straight in exhilaration. You loved the way she touched you, how it made you feel; as if she was tracing the lines on an art piece. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered against your shoulder, “people would kill to see you like this.” 

The honesty in her voice made something in your stomach roll. “Bada…” You began, but you didn’t even know what you wanted to say.

“You have no idea how other people look at you.” Her hands cradled the small of your waist, fingertips digging into your hips. “So let me show you how they look at you.”

She began kissing up your shoulder, soft and warm presses of her lips, before parting her mouth against your neck with a tangible hunger that left you sighing. You tilted your head to the side to give her more room and every inch you freed, she swarmed eagerly. Her tongue swirled against a patch of skin, hand flattening on your lower stomach as the other traced higher and higher, along your ribcage, before inquisitive fingertips moved under the hem of your top. As she sucked a mark onto your skin, you clenched your thighs together at the familiar sensation between your legs. Your eyes slowly fell shut as she crept up higher, lips pressing right below your earlobe with a barely-there hum.

She whispered: “Keep looking at yourself.”

You obeyed bashfully, right when Bada reattached her lips to your skin. She had been tracing lines along the hem of your sports bra, enthralled with the way you shivered in her grasp, before slipping a hand under; her hand was warm as she kneaded your breast, but your nipples stiffened at the sensation all the same. You pushed out your chest to convey your delectation, and she rewarded you by sinking her teeth into your skin. Suddenly, with a swift movement, both her hands hoisted up the hem of your top and bra, and pulled it upwards, your breasts releasing from its confines. The cold air made them perk up and Bada’s hands cupped the underside.

She detached her lips from your skin with a wet sound before looking up at the mirror, taking you in with her saliva-slicked mouth agape. 

“So pretty,” Bada muttered, bringing your breasts a little higher, “Are you sensitive here?” She wondered loudly before tracing her thumbs right below your nipples. Once again your legs squeezed together, feeling yourself throb from excitement, and Bada picked up on the hint with a wide smile. “You are.”

In your reflection you saw Bada bring her fingers up to your mouth, thumb pressing down on your bottom lip imploringly, and you opened your mouth. She slipped her digit past, pushing it back against your tongue and you sucked obediently. Her eyes were drilling into yours through your reflection, enthralled by how pliant you were under her care. 

You released the digit with a wet ‘pop’ and Bada promptly brought it to your nipple, rubbing it in circular motions as her other hand continued to knead your other breast. A quiet moan escaped you, chest rising into her touch and Bada giggled, pressing another kiss on your shoulder. Your own hands ached to touch her, but she kept you firmly locked between her legs; instead you squeezed her upper thighs, feeling her shapes through the baggy cargo she was sporting. 

“Give me a kiss.” She commanded, and you immediately twisted your neck to capture her lips. 

It was all teeth, wet noises echoing through the room as your tongue swirled against hers; the taller girl groaning into your mouth at the sheer force you exerted. She gave your nipples a pinch before rubbing her fingers over them repeatedly, and she swallowed your breathless moans greedily. You dug your nails into her thighs as she cupped your breasts again, her tongue slipping out of your mouth to trail along your bottom lip instead. Your head was chanting her name, getting drunk on the near delirious attention she gave you. Tilting your head back even further, you connected your lips again even though the angle was uncomfortable. You were starting to feel desperate, hips lightly rocking back against the firmness of her body as Bada sucked down on your tongue.

One of her hands released your breast and trailed down the expanse of your stomach, once again breaking the kiss and instead opt to look at you in the mirror. Her fingers found the knot of your joggers as your eyes met in the reflection, and she pulled on the string; untying it. 

“Okay?” Bada inquired meaningfully, and you nodded much faster than you intended. “Let me hear you say it.” The tone of her voice, which was otherwise so gentle and quiet, made your full body shiver.

“I want it.” You spoke breathlessly, squirming impatiently between her legs as her fingers finally slipped down your pants.

She trailed along the sweatband of your underpants before cupping your heat over the fabric, fingers pressing against your folds inquisitively. Her eyes never left yours, quietly measuring your reactions. Unwittingly your thighs clamped around her wrist, breath hitching in your throat as she began to caress you with a touch so gentle it didn’t fit the precarious position you both were in. 

“You’re so wet.” Bada spoke coyly, smirking at the way your eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. She began rubbing circles over your covered folds, feeling your wetness spread as if on command. Your breathing turned into whining, subconsciously grinding back against her hand. 

She removed her hand much to your distress, until you realized what she wanted: Bada began tugging the fabric of both your joggers and underpants down as far as she could, before giving your hip a commanding pat. You raised your hips to assist her ministrations, and she pulled the clothing down past your knees before you kicked them off fully. 

Your thighs were pressed together when you got back in place and suddenly felt self-conscious at how exposed you were despite your own eagerness. Bada wasn’t having it: her eyes were taking in your figure, hands immediately coming down to smooth along your thighs. Then, she squeezed tightly and wrenched your thighs wide apart, making you expose yourself for her. Before you could instinctively close them, her long legs hooked over your ankles, forcefully keeping them in place. All of it only made you throb harder.

“You don’t want to know how often I’ve been thinking about this these past few days.” Her hands smoothing along your sides in marvel, cupping your breasts once more. The tip of her nose pressed against the shell of your ear. “How many times I’ve watched those recordings and imagined you, exactly like this.” Her fingers fit into your mouth once again, and you sucked on them, letting your tongue swirl along the digits as if you were starving for it. “I think I lost count.”

Her confession made you moan around her fingers, shivers running down your spine. She scooted back ever so slightly, pulling your hips back with her unoccupied hand until it was the angle she needed, and then dropped it between your legs. Her fingers spread your folds and she sucked in a breath, completely mesmerized by your reflection. You were still swallowing around her fingers and she hummed encouragingly, hand cupping your vagina and spreading your wetness across your heat. 

She removed her fingers from your mouth and you caught your breath, fingers digging into her upper thighs as you braced yourself. As one hand kept your folds spread, the other, spit-slicked, began rubbing slow circles against you. You gasped at the sensation, mumbling her name in amazement. You raised your hand to the back of her head; grabbing a hold of her braid to simply have a hold of something, but it earned you a particularly sweet noise from the girl behind you. Your hips rocked back against her movements trying to find more friction in the right place, and Bada slowly sped up, moving her wrist up and down to try and find the spot that did it for you. Her lips pressed against the back of your neck so tenderly, and something about the dichotomy between that and the way she was touching you between your legs made your eyes roll back; lids closing as you thrusted back against her hand.

You didn’t understand how she was able to build up to that familiar knot in your stomach so soon, and it almost made you feel embarrassed, until you realized Bada was savoring every second of it. Her eyes never left your form, as if she were studying just another choreography, lips parted in an awestruck way. You had long foregone the urge to keep quiet, vocalizing exactly what she was doing to you: You let a particularly loud moan leave you when she rubbed along your most sensitive spot. Trying to pull more sounds from you, she pressed against your clit with more force and rubbed faster. Your hips could only chase her touch as your lower stomach constricted. 

Bada brought her hand up to her own lips and lapped at her fingers, effectively pausing her motions for a split second and thus drawing a broken whine from you; both because her hand wasn’t where you needed it to be and also because she had no qualms about having you in her mouth. It didn’t last long: she hushed you soothingly as she put her hand back where you felt it belonged and used the added wetness to add faster friction against your clit. Your head rolled back and you tugged at her braid, pulling an attractive groan from the girl behind you.

You weren’t far away anymore. Your lower stomach was unbearably tight with desire and you were a gyrating, frantic mess against her hand while her fingers rubbed against you in vertical swipes, her name falling from your lips repeatedly as if you were reciting a prayer. 

You managed to utter an “I’m close”, and Bada crowded against you before you could start begging her for release. “Come for me.” She demanded, and then immediately captured your mouth in a desperate kiss, teeth clashing together while she drank your sweet moans. 

As if on cue, the tension in your stomach imploded and you gave her braid a sharp pull. You gasped into her mouth, no longer kissing each other but rather breathing each other's air, as your orgasm rippled through you.

You felt your whole body quiver and shake in pleasure as Bada led you through your release, thighs trembling despite the hold the choreographer’s legs had on you. Her fingers hadn’t left your core, but the rubbing slowed down until you were gasping at the overstimulation, yet unwilling to make her hands leave you. As if she read your mind her movements came to a halt, but she pressed her palm against you; almost possessively. She planted kisses along the side of your throat, whispering praises against your skin as you caught your breath.

Once you had the rise and fall of your chest under control, her arms curled around your waist in a fond embrace, and you turned your head to look directly at her. She had already been staring at you, meeting your eyes with a bashful smile. The two of you laughed at each other, and Bada pressed your foreheads together.

“That,” You mumbled, eyes falling shut as you relished in her open affection: “Was amazing, thank you.”

“Was happy to do it.” She responded playfully, rubbing the tip of your noses together affectionately. 

“Will this happen every time I get self-deprecating?”

“I definitely intend to do this more often, but you could also just ask nicely.” Bada retorted with a smirk before pecking your lips. You giggled, putting your hands over hers and leaning back into the embrace.

After several more shared kisses and hushed whispers, both of you decided to get a move on: you were starting to get cold in your exposed state so Bada urged you to get up. She helped you step back in your clothes, a smug self-satisfied grin never leaving her face when she noticed the unsteady wobble in your legs. 

When you pulled your bra and top back over your breasts, Bada pouted. You gave her a playful shove but she caught your arms instead, bringing them around her neck as her own enveloped your waist.

“Wanna grab dinner?” Her eyes were round and hopeful.

“I would love that.” You replied, and gave her a kiss.

As the both of you tidied up the practice room and gathered your things, Bada listing off food suggestions in the background, your eyes slid to the table at the front of the room.

A familiar device remained perched on the edge, a small green light lighting up proudly.

“Hey, Bada.”

“Hm?”

“Camera’s still recording.”

She stumbled over looking mortified, snatching the device off the table and rewinding haphazardly. 

“Oh, fuck.”

[maxwellatoms]

Hello Mr. Atoms, I'm an animation student in college and fan of your work. I got this assignment in which I need to ask questions to a professional in the area. Could you pretty please answer them? It'd mean a lot to me.

1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.

2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?

3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?

4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?

5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?

Okey dokey.

1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.

Not really, in that there seems to be no career left.

The animation industry swelled its numbers greatly before 2020. Almost immediately after that, corporate greed synergized with a pandemic to reduce animated programs and the number of people working on them to almost zero. It takes almost a year from beginning to end to make a single episode of an animated show (by the modern standard). There was nothing being made in 2020 and four years later, we''re not in a much better spot. It's going to be a long drought for (especially) Kid's TV Animation.

Recently, many of my former co-workers have hit the financial wall and can't continue, moving away after (sometimes) 20 years in the industry. I begin to wonder if I'm very far behind.

A "bounce back" a year from now would need to start today. There are still some animated shows being made now, but those are almost universally "library" properties. That means it's an existing I.P. (Intellectual Properties like Garfield/Mario/Batman/Star Wars) so as an artist you're immediately in that box. Depending on the property and the studio, it can be an unpleasantly tight box. I grew used to holding and maintaining the vision for a show, but it's less fun when it's not my vision. It's even less fun when you can't inspire someone to follow your vision because they've been so ruthlessly abused.

I'm pretty sick of how big media corporations treat their employees. If I inherit one more burnt out crew due to mismanagement, I'm gonna lose it.

Over a decade ago I fought hard to get board artists story credit for the episodes they were actually writing, and felt like I'd won a big victory for everyone. The second my back was turned, it all reverted.

Mostly... what is the point now? My career is/was developing ideas, crafting those ideas into a workable show, then managing teams of thirty to seventy people to produce a couple of dozen episodes per year. Studios actively do not want new ideas right now, and are actively searching for ways to eliminate what artists from the process. I'm not sure what my job would be under this new system, but it feels like they decided to hang onto the anxiety-inducing deadlines while removing anything remotely pleasurable from the experience.

2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?

It's the only way to get anything done, currently.

The current state of the industry is not sustainable. I (along with a lot of other animators I know) are trying to decide what's next, and pretty much everyone agrees that "you just have to make something".

It is (in that very specific way) a great time to be a young animator. The system was never going to treat you well anyway. If you can get something like a Hazbin Hotel happening without studio help, you can currently write your own ticket. I'm super proud of Vivsie, because that's a LOT of stuff to handle. I never had to handle my own marketing or drum up money to make Billy & Mandy happen.

There are opportunities there, but it's definitely "Hard Mode". The best idea is probably to team up with a few other people you like and like to work with.

Hopes? I hope that the young animators take over and make something new on top of the bones of the old industry, rather than just allowing that industry to patch its rotting hide with their collected works.

3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?

I suspect true AI might just peace-out like ScarJo in "Her", but we're not there yet. What we have now isn't Artificial Intelligence at all (though I do believe it may be the underpinnings of the Artificial Suconscious of what may one day become an actual Artificial Intelligence.)

The LLMs and "Generative AI" are (so far) a big dumb waste. They consume tons of energy and aren't great for doing anything creative. If you've sat down with Chat GPT for a creative writing session, you've probably run into the "out of the box" limitations which prevent it from talking about sex or violence-- which happen to be a major component of most stories.

Still, the technology has come incredibly far in an incredibly short amount of time. I imagine we're going to hit the point where we're being hazed by artificially generated political ads way before Generative AI can produce a consistent and usable character turnaround, so that'll be the test. Whatever the legal fallout is from this stuff over the next few years will set the tone.

Still, studios have a vested interest in pleasing their shareholders. Generative AI potentially has the capability of not only replacing swaths of money-eating artists, but handing that control directly to the billionaire studio heads. Mark my words: We're headed straight for billionaire-generated content.

I don't think the public at large will want to watch Elon Musk's fever dreams, so there's that. So law and general distaste might stave it off for a while, but I think there's just too much impetus for studios to continue to try to please their investors. "AI Art" is here to stay.

Eventually that will lead to millions and millions of bots generating millions and millions of songs and paintings and movies all day every day. Most of it will be utter trash. Right now (so I'm told) viewers are already burnt out, and will generally only click on what they already know. On Netflix, where there are twenty things you've never heard of and one you have, you're more likely to pick the thing that gives you comfort and gives you a guarantee you're not wasting your time. With exponentially more A.I. trash, how would you even begin to filter it out?

You'd need absolute control of an already existing distribution system. We currently have a few of those, and all of the media companies are desperately trying to merge with them to insure their own survival.

To me, the post-Gen-AI landscape looks a lot like old-school Cable, but with endless I.P. and fewer masters.

4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?

The real question is, maybe, "What am I even doing?" These days I try to do a lot of gardening. I'm trying to learn new art skills, because suddenly twenty five years of experience managing, drawing, and writing isn't worth much. I recently worked on Jellystone until Zaslav lost 2.5 billion in the wash and had to find justification for his new yacht. The show before that? Also culled midway through to save money. The days of multi-year gigs seem to be over, and if I'm going to scrape by doing freelance, maybe I can do that somewhere else.

I'll always make art. I can't seem to help it. Ideas aren't my problem-- it's executing those ideas without the help of a structured pre-existing system. I honestly don't know if I'll ever be able to pull that off. My strengths are great, but were always supported by friends I worked with.

Can I start an indie cartoon with all of these cool friends? Sure, maybe. Most of those people have gone on to have other careers of their own and got used to being paid. Now nobody is getting paid and no one can pay anyone else. My immediate circle are all now middle-aged people with families and no jobs. Convincing them to give up a large chunk of their day for an idea that's not guaranteed to pay off is going to take some real effort.

I technically have fifteen years until I can claim my "retirement", assuming that still exists by then. That's a pretty big hole to fill with... I don't know what.

The difficult "What comes next" discussions at home are really just starting.

5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?

There are a lot of cool animation people out there. I already mentioned I was proud of Vivsie. I was also reminded recently just how great C.H. Greenblatt and Mr. Warburton are. I know they're my friends. They're both just really upstanding, creative people who take good care of their crews.

The treatment of animation industry professionals by the studio system has been one of the most demoralizing and heartbreaking parts of this demoralizing and heartbreaking time.

---

So there ya go. If you want to look for someone whose attitude is a little more upbeat, I won't blame you a bit.

Wherever you are, I wish you the best of luck. For me, just climb up there and crush it. I would very much like to add you to #5 someday.

[silvergyus]

this kind of fits in with your rockstar txt concept a little bit idk but studio sex with producer!beomgyu and singer!reader. idk it's been on my mind for a while and I feel like you get it

ahhh!!! what a delicious concept I feel like I could've gone in 10 different directions for this one (which is why it took a while). I hope you like it 🩷🩷🩷

pairing: producer!beomgyu x singer!reader

summary: the recording process comes with a few rewards, including but not limited to: global success, awards and accolades, and some special attention from your producer

warnings: afab reader (no prounouns used)/ cockwarming/ vague mention of consensual sexual audio recording/ lil bit of pinching/ use of "baby" for reader

word count: 600+

“Right there. Listen to those drums in the back.” Your producer points out the rhythmic beat supporting your newest track. It’s the kind of beat that makes you want to sway your hips and dance- which makes it even harder to sit still on his lap.

You’ve been working with Beomgyu for years. All your favorite songs were produced by him here, in his small, cozy studio. You’ve been here a lot lately, logging hours in the recording booth and hours on the studio couch. Sometimes Beomgyu plays you the tracks, asks you what sound you’re envisioning and explains his thought process. Sometimes he plays with your pussy, laying you out on the worn cushions, eating you out until all you can say is his name. Sometimes- like right now- he does both.

Beomgyu leans forward to turn a dial on the giant board of knobs and switches, turning up the volume so you can better hear the intricacies of the mix. His movement drives his cock deeper into you, drawing a soft moan from your lips.

“Shhh, baby. Listen.” His voice ghosts over the shell of your ear as his fingers pinch at the soft skin of your inner thigh. You can’t help but twitch away from the teasing, moving yourself again on his dick, growing even wetter and more impatient as you wait for him to finish the playthrough and just fuck you already.

This is his favorite game to play. He loves to tease you with his fingers, get you so worked up and wet, then slip you onto his cock, sit back in his producer’s chair, and play you your album. If you bounce or grind your hips, he starts over from the beginning. It drives you crazy every time, makes you desperate, pleading with him not to pause, to play at two-times speed. That worked once- you’d asked to see what a sped-up tiktok version would sound like and he obliged. Instead torturing you to cum again and again bent over the mixing board after he guessed what you were up to.

His fingers find your clit, drawing large circles around it so that only the faintest of sensations register where you want it. “Final track baby. Think you can be good?”

You nod, desperate for the final, four-minute ballad to play through. You curse yourself for wanting to go all-out for this track. It was heaven when you recorded vocals last week, a rush of accomplishment and achievement. Now, it was hell to wade through as you forced yourself to sit still, Beomgyu’s perfect cock so hard inside you, filling you up perfectly.

The track ends, fading away to the piano melody that loops perfectly into the same melody at the beginning of the first track. If you were in your right headspace you’d note how skilled of a producer Beomgyu is, how he perfectly executed your vision and sonically expressed your emotions. But all you could think about as the final notes played out was how desperate you were to get well and truly fucked.

“So did you like it?” He twitches his hips up slightly to push into you.

“Obviously.” He rolls them again, welcome friction against your walls.

“What did you like specifically?” He was toying with you now, and you weren’t going to have it.

“I’ll tell you the specifics after you make me cum.” You turned as best you could on his lap, gazing up into his dark brown eyes.

He kisses your cheek, humming. “Hmm, deal.”

The red “recording in progress” light flashes on outside the studio doors as Beomgyu begins to snap his hips up into yours, holding you tight as he takes out the album length’s worth of pent-up need into your soaked pussy.

author’s note: this is a work of fiction not meant to accurately represent the idol. please do not repost.

taglist: @lunesdesire, @dearlyjun, @moamidzyism, @miupow

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[baby-yongbok]

Fan Fiction

Skz/ Dom!Bang Chan x Sub!afab reader - Explicit Sexual Content, MDNI!

✨Masterlist ✨

Word Count: 5,257

Tags: Dom/Sub dynamics, penatrative sex, degradation, unprotected sex, teasing, overstimulation, breath play (mild), oral sex ( f & m receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms (reader), breeding??, creampie, established relationship, after care.

(Sorry if I missed any tags)

Notes: This is my first ever Skz AU, and I'm nervous but excited to share. Please be nice! Also, i posted this from my phone, so I'm sorry if the formatting is odd or anything. I'm kinda new to posting on here.

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to reflect or portray any of the members in real life!

I do not own the picture attached, credit to the owner. (Found on pinterest)

You woke up in a panic as your eyes searched for the glowing numbers on your alarm clock. As your vision became less blurry, you realized that it was still Sunday and you didn't sleep in and nearly miss work. Thank goodness. You've been trying to get rest whenever you could as of late. Your job was draining you beyond belief, and you had very little things that could help you relax, especially since Chan was always busy with work. You laid still for a while, staring up at the ceiling and pondering the possibilities… What could you do? How could you relax?

Without coming to a full thought you decide to pull yourself out of bed. Your naked feet felt cold against the hardwood and Goosebumps covered your naked legs. Chan always kept the air conditioner at 63 degrees and if you ever changed it he'd lose his mind. You pulled your feet lazily across the floor and let out a big yawn and stretch, stumbling a bit as you became lightheaded. Once you were steady you continued on your mindless journey to Chan's studio. The door was closed as always and you could hear a beat blaring from the speakers. Chan didn't like to be interrupted while he was mixing and told you to only knock if it were an emergency. You stood at the door mulling over your thoughts trying to think of the exact reason that you were going to knock on the door but nothing came to mind.

Fuck it.

You lifted your hand to knock but swiftly stopped once you heard the music on the other side stop. You took a step back with furrowed brows as you figured he was probably editing a section of the track. To your surprise the door swung open and your fiance towered over you as he took in the sight before him. You stood there clad in one of his t- shirts and pink lace panties as you stared up at him.

"I had a feeling you were out here. What're you doing? Eavesdropping? " a grin pulled at the corners of his mouth as he took a step forward to lace his strong arm around your waist and pull you into him.

"I wanted to see you but I heard you mixing so I just kinda… stood here. " Your sleepy brain spilled the truth immediately since you didn't feel the need to hide from him.

"You're always welcome into the studio, love." Your arms snaked around his waist as you hugged him sinking into his toned torso. " Well, I know I told you I don't like being interrupted but still, I always want to see my baby."

"I just woke up and I just… I don't know what to do with myself. It's only six o'clock and I'm just bored." With a sigh you loosen your grip around his waist.

"Hm, how about this, I'll finish mixing this song and then we can do something. Maybe order some take out? Play a board game? Whatever you'd like." Your big eyes glance up to him looking down at you with a sweet smile.

"How long until you're done?"

"Uh, give me thirty minutes, okay?" With another long sigh you let go of your fiancé completely.

"Okay." With a mumbled 'thank you' leaving his lips he pressed a kiss to the top of your head before letting you go and watching you as you slowly stalked back into your shared bedroom. You figure that you'll just spend the next thirty minutes scrolling through your phone looking at TikTok or something while you wait for Chan to finish up. That was until you accidentally pressed the Tumblr app on your phone and your old Stay account lit up your screen.

Oh

You had forgotten about your account, ever since the world blessed you with actually meeting, dating and now being engaged to your bias you didn't see any use for it. Of course you were still a fan but you see the boys as your ordinary friends now instead of world famous idols. Even with this logic fresh in your mind your finger began to scroll and you ended up getting lost in what used to be your world.

It's been two hours and Chan is still mixing. Usually this would bother you but you were too immersed in your virtual world to care. You were going back into your likes and reading all of the disgustingly sexy fan fictions that you liked three years ago. Some about Felix and Hyunjin but most of them about your fiancé.

You sat straight up when you came across the one. That one fan fiction that you used to go back to every time you needed that sweet release. Everytime you wanted to pretend that your fingers were Chan's, long before you knew what it actually felt like. Your excited fingers quickly pressed 'Keep Reading' as your eyes scanned the screen and arousal pools at your core. You read for what felt like hours but was probably only fifteen minutes. God did you love this fic. It was your dream till this day to get fucked like that by Chan. Rough and unrelenting. Forceful and Primal. You knew he was capable of doing it but only if you asked and God knows that you were way too shy to do that. In your day dreamy haze you decided to send the fan fiction to yourself so that you could have easy access to it instead of scrolling all the way down your likes every time you wanted to read it. You hit share and then sent it to yourself on messenger. It took a matter of seconds to pass and for you to come out of your daydream to realize that you were thinking of Chan so much that you sent it to him. Your heart dropped into your ass and you swear that your brown skin turned bright red with embarrassment. What do you do? How do you come back from this?

You weren't thinking straight, I mean how could you? You just sent your fiance a smutty fanfiction about him. You weren't thinking, you couldn't, you felt dizzy with the pressure that was building up in your head. You thought that maybe you could stop him from seeing it. You opened messenger and tried to unsend it but it only gave you the option to unsend for yourself. It was then when your worst nightmare came true. Chan's small profile picture on the side dropped down to the message indicating that he had seen it. Your heart stopped or at least you think it did. What were you supposed to tell him? Yes, he knew you were a fan when he got with you but you felt like exposing him to your fangirl world would make him look at you like just that, a fan.

You decided to wait. You weren't even worried about being bored anymore because your imagination had been keeping you very very entertained not to mention on edge. You kept wondering if Chan read the fanfiction or if he just looked at it and laughed before starting to work again. Did he love you any less for sending him fan made work? Or maybe he loves you less for even looking at it. Either way you were pretty sure that you were doomed.

"Alright, I know that, that was way more than thirty minutes and I'm so fucking sorry about that. I just wanted the track to be perfect." You jump at the sound of Chan's voice as he makes his way over to you on the bed and sits down pulling your legs into his lap. "We could still order take out, you must be starving."

He smiles over at you and you know that you must look like a deer caught in headlights with how big your eyes are, yet he says nothing. His smile is unwavering and you can't fathom why. Didn't he see what you sent him? Isn't he disgusted?

"So…? Thai or maybe Italian? We haven't had that in awhile." Chan pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through uber eats mindlessly. "Chicken?"

You decide to take a deep breath and try to compose yourself. If he doesn't say anything about it than fuck it neither will you. Forcing a smile onto your face you try to scoot closer to him and get comfortable. He swiftly welcomes you into his arms and pulls you into his lap so that you can browse together.

"Chicken sounds good but now you got me wanting Italian." You add with a playful forced smile.

"Italian it is, mama." You freeze for a second staring over at your fiancé as he picks an Italian restaurant to order from. He never calls you that, why would he call you that? Are you overreacting? Maybe he just wanted to try something new.

"Do you want your usual?" He asks looking up at you and catching your confused gaze. "Are you alright? "

"Yeah… I'm, uh, fine." No. You were not fine. That was a big fat lie. You were confused but mostly turned on by the new term of endearment. You slowly pressed your thighs together as you heard it echo through your head. The fan fics you read earlier weren't helping either, you were already hot and bothered as it is then he goes and calls you that?

"So, your usual?" You nod your head yes and continue to let your mind race.

"Alright, it'll be here in 25 minutes. Do you wanna watch a movie or something while we wait?" You shrug mindlessly, staring past Chan's face. "Hey, are you alright? You seem off, baby."

Straightening up and looking down at him you smile and try your best to get out of your head, and that nearly works before Chan puts his hand on the back of your neck rubbing his finger along the soft sensitive skin on the side of your neck. "I'm okay" you choke out as the feeling of his big hand on your neck sends chills down your spine.

"Alright, well I'm here if you want to talk, mama." There he goes again. You press your thighs together quickly before getting up off of his lap.

"Let's watch TV, yeah?" Chan smiles over at you as he quickly and nonchalantly scans your entire body taking in your bare legs and lace covered core.

"Sounds good, baby."

The food came and went quickly since the two of you were hungrier than you realized. You watched various random television shows and finished the end of a movie that Chan swears used to be his favorite. The two of you decided to pack it in maybe fifteen minutes ago. You've already showered and changed into a more comfortable cotton pair of red panties and another one of your fiance's shirts. You slid into bed and stared up at the ceiling as you waited on Chan to finish up his shower. You had pretty much forgotten about today's fuck up since he hadn't brought it up to you. It also helped to distract yourself with TV and food but there was still a lingering feeling deep in your chest. Something was off, you just didn't know what. You had noticed that he was extra attentive while the two of you spent time together. He made continuous eye contact that you couldn't seem to keep up with and his hand kept finding its way to the back of your neck. Not to mention that damned name he kept calling you.

The sound of the bathroom door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. You sat up to ask Chan how his shower was but instantly went dry at the mouth when you took in the sight in front of you. His dark hair was wet, some strands sticking to his forehead. He was shirtless with nothing but Grey sweatpants on and bare feet.

Holy fuck

You couldn't help but to stare, how could you do anything else with a man like that in front of you. The three years that you've spent together should have prepared you to see him like this. Hell, you've seen all of this man and probably know him better than he knows himself but there was something about the way that he looked right now that just threw you off. It almost felt familiar to you, you just couldn't put a finger on it.

"Do you work tomorrow, baby?" He asked as he looked over at you from under the towel he was using to dry his hair.

"Uh, yeah I do." You could barely get that sentence out as your eyes locked with his. There was a particular gleam in his eye that you didn't quite recognize but you knew he was up to something.

"Hm, I better make this quick then. It would be irresponsible of me to keep you up all night." He throws the towel he was using over to the hamper and starts to slowly stalk over to the bed. "Don't you think so, mama?"

Your brain went to mush instantly as you took in his dark tone and even darker eyes. It was at this moment that you were sure he read it. Everything clicked for you now. The name, the touches, even his outfit, it all came from that one fanfiction.

He crawled onto the bed and over to you slowly like a lion hunting its prey. In an instant he was on top of you. Looking down at you with his burning brown eyes. You couldn't help but to look away and over to the side but that was no use. You felt as his hand slowly snaked up your body and his thumb and pointer finger rested on your chin turning your head to face him.

"What is it? Is my little kitty shy?" You pushed your thighs together involuntarily. "It's just me baby, don't worry, I'm going to take such good care of you. "

"Chan I-" He lifted his finger to stop you from talking.

"What's my name baby?" His tone was dark and demanding as he stared down at you. Dropping down to his forearm next to your head he moved in to whisper into your ear. "I want you to call me by my name when I ruin you."

You were breathless and paralyzed. You racked your brain for the right answer even though you knew exactly what it was. You've called him by his name before so why should this be any different? Why was this so different?

"Chris - Christopher." A dark chuckle left his lips as he lifted himself up to look into your eyes again.

"That's my girl." Turning your head to the side with one finger he wasted no time littering kisses and love bites all over the exposed skin milking small moans from your lips as you desperately pressed your thighs together. "So you want me to break you, huh? "

You freeze as you realize that he's reciting lines from the very fanfiction that you accidentally sent him.

"You want me to fuck you senseless, mama?" He lightly bites at your collarbone before licking up your neck and planting a kiss behind your ear.

"I can do that." His right hand snakes down your body, his nails digging in lightly as he makes his way to your clothed heat. "Oh, baby"

He harshly but slowly rubs on your clothed core taking in the wetness seeping through your panties.

"You're fucking soaked." His eyes burn into yours as he rubs you over your underwear. You try your best to maintain eye contact but you can't help but to let your eyelids flutter shut every time he caresses your clit. "Eyes on me, mama"

You force your eyes open and look up at Chris as he rubs tight circles around your clit using your arousal as lube against your panties. "Let me hear you."

It wasn't until then that you realized that you had been holding your breath. With a shaky sigh you let out a moan and then you just can't stop. The moans just kept falling from your lips and the sound only encouraged Chris to do more. Before you know it he's moved your panties to the side and is tracing lines up and down your slick cunt. He barely touches your clit as he tries to build you up as high as he can. The higher he can get you the harder the crash will be.

"You want to see what you do to me, Jagi?" You frantically nod in response earning a smile from Chris. He pulls his hand away from your core painfully slowly and sits up on his knees straddling you. In one swift motion he dips his sweatpants down and lets his thick cock free from its restraint. You've seen it a million times but right now it feels new. "Look at how hard you've got Daddy's dick."

A moan fell from your lips at the sound of his filthy words. He was always good at dirty talk but this was different. He was playing out a written fantasy right now and your pussy just couldn't take it.

"Chris, please." He looked down at you with furrowed brows as you begged.

"Please what, mama?" He asked as he began pumping his length slowly, teasingly.

"Fuck" you moaned at the sound and the sight in front of you. "Fuck me, please." A chuckle fell from his lips as he watched you squirm under him.

"You're so needy, baby." You groaned at him in frustration. Was he really going to tease you? He was already basically acting out a fanfiction right in front of you. Did he have to add the teasing? You rolled your eyes at him instinctively. You found yourself doing that a lot and usually he thought it was cute but today was different. You watched as his free hand dipped down and grabbed your face and he stared down at you silently for what felt like hours but were merely seconds.

"Did you just roll your fucking eyes at me?" He got off of you while keeping a firm grip on your face. "Someone needs to be put in their place.

Without another word he roughly guided you over to his exposed length and tapped the head of his cock on your red lips. "Open your mouth and suck this dick."

You were taken aback to say the least. Chan was the type of guy who was more of a soft dom and didn't demand you to do much, especially not in such a dark domineering tone. You couldn't stop yourself even if you tried. It's like a button was pressed and your mouth was open, your tongue out and ready to taste your fiancé. He smiled down at you and slowly slid his cock into your mouth filling you up to the hilt. His head fell back in euphoria and he hissed a curse into the air.

You bobbed your head slowly at first trying to get him used to the sensation of your mouth around him but clearly he had other plans.

"Come on, you can do better than that." Both of his hands found their way into your curly hair and gripped the root making sure to not pull too hard. He began guiding you and moving your head faster and faster each time you came up from the hilt. It wasn't long before you began to gag around him with every stroke, your eyes watering from the choking.

"Fuck, Mamas, that mouth is filthy." You looked up at him with your big watering eyes as he looked down at you with his dark ones. You wanted to make him feel good but right now his rough nature was making you weak for him. Could it be possible that you feel better than he does right now? Having your mouth be used for his pleasure could be the very thing that drives you over the edge.

He continued to guide your head up and down his shaft until he suddenly stopped. Pushing your head down to swallow him completely. He forced you to stay in place temporarily, cutting off your air supply and making you gag and choke around him.

"Be good, slut, take it." Your eyes began to water, tears flowing down your cheeks. He pulled you up off of him, completely freeing his cock from your mouth. You gasped as he watched you intently paying attention to your body language.

"What's your color?" You had almost forgotten about the Stoplight system that Chris put in place as safe words for you. You were too focused on your pleasure and his to remember much else.

"Green" He smiles down at you before taking one hand out of your hair and grabbing the back of your neck.

"Good" He sinks his cock back into your throat as he holds you down once again cutting off your air supply " You're such a good hole"

His moans and growls are what keep you going as you gag around him. He pulls you off once again before pushing you back onto the bed. You gasp at the sudden change as he grabs your ankles and pulls your ass to the edge of the bed. Wrapping your legs around him he leans down to finally kiss your wet lips. The kiss was passionate and rough like it was meant to mark you. This was the kiss of a man who wanted you to know who you belong to. He swiped his tongue across your bottom lip asking for access that you gladly granted. His tongue explored your mouth. He tasted of sweet spearmint and the smell of his pheromones filled your nostrils. You hadn't even realized that you began grinding your clothed core on his exposed cock until he bit your lip with a hiss warning you to stop, but you couldn't. You needed him, you were desperate to feel him. If anything his warning only made you grind harder and faster against him. The feeling of his cockhead grinding against your clit was euphoric and you only wanted more as time went on.

"Naughty little toy." Chris growled as he broke the kiss. "If it's my dick that you want then that's what you're gonna get."

Grabbing the back of your thighs Chris swiftly picked you up and turned you both around so that you were against the wall. Your legs tightened around him as you squealed. You've done this position once or twice but it's been so long.

"I'm going to make you fall apart on my cock, mama." He buried himself into the crook of your neck being much rougher this time. He bites at the skin leaving marks that you're sure you'll have to cover up in the morning. He growled into your ear making you moan as you tried your best to grind against him. The both of you were growing impatient but you knew you couldn't move until Chris did.

Finally, he moves your panties to the side and teases your entrance with his cock. "Please, Chris, I need you so badly baby. Ruin me, please." A groan leaves his lips as he looks into your pleading eyes.

"You sound so pathetic, baby. You want to be fucked?" He slips his cock into you faster than he usually does but slow enough to allow you to adjust. "Here you go, kitty."

You cry out instantly moaning his name like your life depended on it. He bounced you on his cock picking up the pace with every stroke. He growled curse words in your ear every time you took him all the way, your walls tightening at the sensation.

"Shit, baby, you're so tight around me." Your head fell back against the wall in pure bliss. "Tell me you like it, let me hear you."

"You feel so fucking good Chris. You fuck me so good." Your praise only made him pick up the pace, turning your moans into gaspy screams.

"Fuck, oh my god, Chris… yes, please, yes. " Words mindlessly fell from your mouth as he pounded into you. Sweat dripping from his forehead as he fucked you senseless just as he promised.

"That's it, take it baby." His cock was hitting just the right spot and he stretched you out perfectly. The fact that this position felt so new to you didn't help to contain the arousal brimming over and spilling from your pussy. You felt a knot in your stomach and your toes started to burn as you got closer and closer to your release. That's when he said the magic words.

"Don't you dare fucking cum." The words came out as a breathy growl. It wasn't a demand this time, it was a threat. You whined as you tried your best to contain your growing orgasm but it just kept creeping up on you.

"Please, let me cum, Please Daddy I'm so close." He groaned at you calling him daddy, something he loved but would never admit to anyone else.

"Don't you dare." He growled again, making you whine. You tried, you really did but you just couldn't contain it. Your pussy clenched around him sucking him in like a vacuum and that's when he knew. " Y/N, don't you fucking cum"

That's all he had to say to throw you over the edge. The way he said your name with that darkness lingering on his tongue sent a shock straight to your clit. You couldn't stop it, you tried so hard but you couldn't stop. Your legs shook around him as your orgasm came crashing down. He didn't stop fucking you he only picked up the pace once he realized that you had cum. His thrusts were shorter and harder, he was punishing you.

"Oh, you've done it now." He fucked into you like he hadn't had sex in years. He'd gone feral for you and all you could do was cry out as your sensitive cunt got abused by his cock. To add fuel to the fire he snaked one of his hands in between the two of you to rub your sensitive clit as he pounded into you throwing you into an overstimulation spiral.

"Chris I- I can't take it." Tears welled up in your eyes as he made you feel so painfully good. It was so much but somehow you found yourself wanting more.

"Find a way to." Was all he said as he continued to abuse your aching cunt. "You should've listened."

His strokes were getting sloppier and his moans were getting louder as he felt you clench around him desperately. The knot in your core building up again.

"I'm going to fill you up so good." He moaned into your ear as his orgasm creeped up his spine. "Fuck, yes, I'm cumming baby. "

Just like that you felt Chan's warm sticky cum coat your walls. The same walls that were now sore and desperate for release again.

"Yes, thank you, daddy. Thank you." He fucked his cum into with a few more pumps before turning and laying you back onto the bed. You both panted, trying your best to catch your breath. You were in a daze, a happy cum drunk daze. You couldn't believe that he actually did what was in that fanfiction but God you were grateful.

"So, you want to be a disobedient whore, huh?" Your eyes shoot open as your fiancé's dark tone catches your attention. "You needed to cum, right?"

You slowly shake your head yes and a knowing smile is painted on Chan's face. "Then here." His hand pops against your pussy spanking it as his cum drips from your wet hole.

"Cum again." Chris drops to his knees teasingly slow and pulls you closer to him by your thighs.

"Chris I- .. Fuck." Before you can finish your sentence his tongue runs a hot stripe up your cunt. He groans as he tastes both you and himself in the mixture of arousal. "Oh my gosh"

He continues to lick and taste you wrapping his lips around your swollen and sensitive clit. His tongue flicks at the nub with slow and firm pressure keeping up his rhythm as he circles your clit. You turn into a hip bucking mess at the amount of pleasure you are feeling right now. It's so much but you want more. Your hands find a home in Chris' wet hair as you start to grind into his mouth. He hums his approval in response as he moves his head back and forth to give you more friction, the perfect formula. You feel your orgasm creep up your legs and it's moving faster and stronger than any one you've ever had before. Your vision goes dark and the grip you have on Chris' hair tightens as you scream for him.

"Fuck, Chris, I'm cumming." Your high washes over you like a storm. Your body shaking against his mouth as he continues to fuck you with his tongue helping you ride out your orgasm. High pitched moans leave your lips and you struggle against his tongue as it continues to taste you. Your vision starts to go white when he finally lets go of his hold over you.

"Such a greedy slut." Chris chuckles as you try your best to catch your breath.

"Are you alright? " He asks as he pulls up his sweatpants and plops down next to you pulling you into his arms. "Take it slow, in and out, baby. "

"I- I'm fine" you finally get out in a breathy reply.

"Good, you were amazing, Jagi" He pulls you into a tight hug and you turn to put your leg over his body as you finally find a comfortable breathing rhythm.

"You were better." Chris smiles down at you with knowing eyes.

"Well, you have your little fan fiction to thank for that. I would've never been that rough with you otherwise. I didn't realize that you like being bossed around so much. " A blush creeps up on your cheeks as you hide your face at the mention of the fanfiction. You had almost forgotten about it.

"I'm so embarrassed. I never meant to send you that."

"Hey, don't be embarrassed." He lifts your chin so that your eyes meet his. "I'm glad you accidentally sent it to me. I want to please you in every way that I can and if you want it a little rougher in the bedroom that's fine. I can do that for you. I'm happy to please you, Y/N"

"Did you enjoy it too?" Chris laughs with a wide smile and nods his head.

"Hell yeah I did. You felt amazing and I really liked topping you like that."

"Good" You say with a blush.

"Okay, well, it's one in the morning so we need to get some sleep but first I know you've gotta be thirsty."

"Yeah, my throat is pretty dry."

"Great, I'll get us some water before round two." With a smile Chris jumps up out of bed and jogs out of the room and down to the kitchen leaving you yelling behind him.

"What do you mean round two?!" You plop your head down on the bed and sigh with a smile. "This fan fiction has created a monster

[alexlwrites]

You ask and you shall receive!

Here's part 2 of "Yoongi never had a crush until you" from my notes app. I'm always open to more requests <3

(Check out part one here)

(Buy me a coffee on ko-fi!)

....

Tonight was the night. Yoongi could feel it, from the tip of his long luscious hair to his weirdly long toe. There was something in the air - whispers of certainty and peace that could either be a sign that Jungkook had left the premises or that tonight was the night that Yoongi was finally going to gather all the courage within his tired body and ask you out!

Furthermore! - he shook his fist in front of his mirror, eyes slightly crazed with a decidive stance - you'd say yes!

From there, everything would fall into place, stars aligning and errors corrected. His shoes would fit better, the wifi faster, the coffee tastier. Everything improved by your presence in his life.

He just couldn't stand all this nervous, jittery energy anymore! It was all so unlike his cool, calm, collected persona and he didn't know how to deal with his sudden difficulties to form full coherent sentences when you showed up. He had to put a stop to it and act on his new and, to be honest, slightly concerning feelings.

You see, he was a man with a written plan! In the depths of his pockets, under seven layers of coffee shop receipts from 5 months ago and guitar picks he thought he had lost, there was a small piece of paper with his plan detailed step by step: first he would calm the fuck down (crucial). Then, check for sweaty hands, unknown food stains on his outfit and bad breath (Just in case!!!!). Then, present his five slide power point showcasing his feelings and finally - finally! - ask you out.

In case you'd say no, he had an extra slide with more appealing arguments (i'm rich, it said). Otherwise, he'd move to south america and live his life as Carlos, the potato farmer.

Of course, as Yoongi's life was never as simple as a power point presentation, all his plans were forgotten when you showed up in his studio dressed up in a way he'd never seen, skin tight dress clinging to your body in the way he wanted to, rendering him speechless and brain dead.

"Yoongi! Sorry for the late hour, I just had to drop these documents before I left and I rushed here because I have plans for the evening..."

Ask her out, his heart said, beating so loud he was surprised you didn't hear it. Ask her out, make her yours, rip this sinful devil sent dress into pieces. Fuck the power point, fuck your canva vision board, ask her out, ask her out, ask her out, ask her...

"Out" he spluttered at last and he swore his heart shattered at the hurt in your eyes.

"Oh, im sorry" you said, dropping the stack of papers on his coffee table, lips pouting and eyes saddened in a way that made yoongi want to choke on his own fucking wrist "I'll leave you be, mr. Min"

"No-nO! I DIDN'T MEAN..." but it was too late and youd already left.

BUGGER.

BUGGER IT ALL TO HELL!

(Part three)

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 ꒱ 김홍중

summary : your boyfriend gets jealous when you should be giving him your attention instead of his friends

genre : fluff, hongjoong x afab!reader, drabble, established relationship tws : jealousy, skinship, language, pet names author notes : for my anonymous requestor, i hope you liked it xx word count : 0.5k

you could tell. you could see it written on your boyfriends face. it was plain to see, yet you still brushed it under the rug and continued on the conversation with his close friends. but still, you could feel his gaze lingering on you. you could almost hear the broken sentences as his focus was spent on something else, as he attempted to play it off.

you, truthfully don't know why you found it slightly amusing. maybe it was because your boyfriend being jealous was a rare situation — simply because he knew you were solely his, and wouldn't even dream of it being different. you two have never had to worry about infidelity, and you knew right now was not the exception, so why did a couple of harmless words seem to upset him so much that he couldn't let you out of his sight for a moment; like if he did it would result in you disappearing.

you kept sending reassuring smiles when your eyes would meet across the studio, but still an uneasy and pouty look adorned his bright features. you always found him adorable, but with his lips turned down childishly it made you mirror them almost mockingly.

seonghwa and san had been talking to you about utter nonsense, while hongjoong tried his best to talk to the awkward yeosang at his side on the couch. you had sat in on the end of their recoding session, the missing members already off doing god knows what until dance practice would take place in an hour or so.

its like he had tunnel vision; eyes only for you; as he came over to the three of you gathered by the sound board. yeosang had left the room, and you almost wanted to laugh as you felt hongjoong’s hands creep around your waist.

seonghwa rolled his eyes, knowing your boyfriend almost as well as you did. pda wasn't something either of you were too fond of, but it didn't seem to matter in this moment, as his palms trailed over your sides and caged you against his chest. naturally, you gave in, slotting your fingers between his.

you gave the pair an almost desperate look when san excused them from your occupied presence. you laughed, but agreed nonetheless.

you waved, "see you later."

and when you were finally left alone with hongjoong, it's like the flood gates were opened. he picked you up, the sound proofing muffling your yelp in surprise from the passers in the hallway. he trudged over to the couch on the back wall, closest to the door, plopping you down onto the cushions gently.

he pouted above you, "weren't you here to see me, love?"

your arms opened, "of course, joong, i love you so much. you know this." and he climbed onto you, resting his head against your chest as he got comfortable.

his hands found your own, intertwining his fingers with yours, "of course i do." he laughed lightly, kissing your collarbone, "then why was i fighting for your attention?"

he pushed himself to be face level, attacking between protests with feather light kisses. you tried to dodge them, taking his cheeks within your palms to steady him, "why didn't you just ask?"

he stopped, looking directly into your eyes; it, honestly, made you feel a little small under the gaze. "that's all it would've taken?"

"of course," you finally pressed his lips to yours gently, "my main priority is always you."

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

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[ssivinee]

✧New Game, New Player✧

part 1 | part 2

BEBE! Bada Lee x Dancer! F Reader: Jeon Y/n joins SWF to prove that her being the sibling of an idol doesn't make her any less of a dancer, but while trying to do so, she makes new friends and potentially something more.

Word Count: 4.7k

Note: Double post cause why not, have too many drafts rn lol.

Character Vision Board

In the world of dance, many professionals look down upon idols who seem to have a passion for it. Many of them saying, it's a different world and aren't really wrong.

Most idols lack in freestyle and versatility which caused a lot of the disapproval last Street Woman Fighter, with idol Lee Chaeyeon.

Jeon Y/n, on the other hand, had a different dilemma.

You were the younger sister of the famous Jeon Jungkook. He was only a year older than you so you two had a close bond, and you love him with all your heart.

Yet you can't deny that once your name was involved, so was his. Your hard work being discredited and diminished by all his career alone.

It upset you as an individual whose danced all your life, going to multiple countries worldwide to gain experience, yet there was always back talk about you.

Deciding to finally make your mark as just Y/n, you opened a studio last year and create your crew Aesthete. Consisting of you, Choi Lyn, Enyo, Heaven Lee, and Kim Aria.

On a Friday morning, you walk into the studio and see the three youngest sitting around, waiting on the rest of the team. Your teams youngest, Lyn, notices you walk in from the mirror. Her bursts of energy activates as she runs up and hugs her beloved unnie extremely tight.

"O-okay, let's calm down before you squeeze all the air out of me," you joke, and Lyn pouts as you pat her head. "Aria isn't here yet?" You ask your juniors as you settle all your items into the closet.

"She was the first one here but wanted to get us all coffee."

Ironically the door opens, revealing the face you were looking for, "Speaking of the devil." She heads to everyone, handing their coffee to them and puts her own personal belongings in the closet.

"Everyone begin stretching. The studio opens in 30 minutes."

You clap and rally the girls together, stretching along with them, then check the list of students coming into the class today. The song chosen for the class was "Con Calma" by Daddy Yankee & Snow. Once class started, you got in the groove of things, and as it went smoothly, you picked a few students and grouped them up to film them for a YouTube video.

When class ends, the girls chill around in a circle as they sit and chat. You scrolled through tiktok, liking dance trends while Enyo leaned her head on your shoulder.

Your phone alerts you, an email sent to your work email instead of personal so you knew it was of importance. Opening the sent mail, your eyes widen at seeing the Mnet logo.

The girls see your face and give a look of concern to each other, "What's going on?"

Your hand over your mouth, and you read, announcing, "Mnet invited us to Street Woman Fighter 2!"

All you can hear is gasps, and after a few seconds, jumping and screaming while you still stand thinking of how unbelievable the opportunity is. Aria grabs your arm and jumps, "Unnie, this is your time to shine!"

You smiled to yourself, now believing that people may actually appreciate you for your dancing.

It was a day of filming on a Saturday morning, and you had finished filming the introduction segment of each crew a week prior.

You get to the main building of the show in your own car and, with another coffee in hand, walk into the lobby to see your team waiting for you.

"Y/n-unnie! Isn't this place so cool?" Lyn says, coming up to you full of energy. Your eyes scan the building, and you must admit, for an assumingly fierce competition, it looked very subtle from what you expected. "It's definitely something,” you mumble.

"Come on, ladies, let's head into our rooms,” you command.

We headed up the stairs and into the halls, passing every crew's room and seeing what they had written on their board.

"It seems like someone tampered with 1Millions board already," Enyo points out, you then frown at their antics. The thoughts of these grown women acting like this irritated you. They were acting like children whose toys were stolen from them.

Yes, you understood bad blood, but pettiness like this isn't a good look on anyone.

The crew sees the Aesthete in a lightly script font in royal blue. You let the girls write on the whiteboard and enter to find the blue room, getting a bit overwhelmed with everything happening so fast.

Everyone sat down and you did breathing exercises, and as the nerves calm, your anticipation and excitement overthrow the previous emotions. The screen then flashes and tells us the dancer on the team with the most no-respect, which was Aria, causing you to look at the screen in confusion.

"Um, okay?" They all laugh at your reaction, mainly because Aria wasn't a weak dancer, but you assumed those stickers were there because of you.

You felt terrible and rubbed her shoulders, "They probably picked you since you’ve been my longest student."

She smiles at you, "It's alright, unnie. I'll just show them why I haven’t left your side."

Aria had been the first student you trained about 7 years ago and has stayed by your side ever since. You always thought it was because she wanted to meet your brother at some point, but over the years, your friendship blossomed, and she reassured you. Aria took your classes because she loved your style, movement, aura, and passion for dancing.

She indeed became the little sister you never had.

Then, the TV signals us to head to the main stage. You all walked down, your team following your lead, and looked around at each group. Every crew was there, but Jam Republic, being the grand finale, you assumed.

Your appearance began to cause everyone to mumble. You kept your hand in the pockets of your cargos, inducing a chill persona.

“Y/n-nim looks so cool.”

“Her eyes look ready to kill. Like she’s ready to punch anyone who disrespects them.”

“And I thought Bada would be the only person here who would be many girl’s type.”

Before you can all take your seats, you stand in the middle and see your team video playing, hearing "Backseat Freestyle" by Kendrick Lamar.

Then, the comments begin to flow in. Starting with Lady Bounce.

"I wanna say I'm intrigued about this team, but only because of Jeon Y/n."

"She's been known as the mother of HYBE. I mean, she's choreographed so many songs for so many groups. I guess that's where all the comments stem from." Lia Kim also speaks, addressing it to her team, and they nod.

"I don't understand why a team like this is on the show. They're like team Bebe, but instead of Bada, they have Y/n," Mina Myoung of Deep N Dap comments, and you stand there with a still, stoic face.

“The team has only been around for one year. They shouldn’t even be in this competition with us,” Wolf Lo’s Halo speaks out with her opinion.

You weren't amused by their comments in the slightest, but you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of getting any major reaction out of you.

Yoonji of Mannequeen then says the comment that ticks you off the most, "Not only are these the shadow of Jeon Y/n, but she is in the shadow of Jeon Jungkook. Even coming on this show, there is no escape from that."

Everyone keeps their eyes on you, trying to see any movement or expression of anger, but you give them a smirk. You knew a comment like this would be said, which didn’t surprise you.

You got those comments quite often any time a choreography of yours went viral so it was nothing you haven’t heard of.

Then, the crew with the trendy Bada Lee appears on the screen, "I'm gonna be honest, I don't know much about them." Lusher begins. " I'd say they're probably our biggest rivals due to our dance styles," Tatter adds.

"Maybe dancing is in Y/n's genes. She just has to prove it here. As a leader, I'm sure she knows many people look down on her due to her connection to her brother." You stare at the screen, a little surprised at the more neutral comment by their leader.

“Their style is very appealing and trendy. I feel we’re gonna see a lot from this crew,” Tsubakill’s Rena says with a soft smile.

The women of Jam Rebuplic were on screen, and you couldn't help but smile a little. Kristen and Ling met you during their time with the Royal Family, and knowing them for many years put you at ease. You also became a fan of Audrey's dance style with her appearance on the World of Dance.

"I know we're in a competition with these girls, but knowing Y/n personally, I know and believe her talent goes beyond imagination and can lead this team to success." The video then ends and shows the status of no-respect stickers given. You had gotten 2, while Lyn had 4.

As you sit, you think of having 3 level-headed crews on the show that didn't disrespect you. If anything, they looked respectful and sincere about all their comments.

The large room began to buzz in whispers as crews chatted about other teams. "I can't believe they think of you like that," Enyo shakes her head, but you shrug. "Their comments were honestly what I expected. I didn't expect the nicer things that Tsubakill and Bebe said."

"Agreed," Lyn mumbles, feeling down due to the comments. "I knew Jam was gonna be nice, but everyone else was truly a fifty-fifty."

Jam Republic then comes down with an energy that no one could match in the studio. They were the ones who felt as if they were at the top, and there was no denying it. They were at the top. The girls were the most unique with their versatile dance arsenal.

You knew your abilities as a dancer, and one thing you couldn't do well was Afro-dance, as the rhythm was genuinely different.

They stand in the middle as they react to their video, but every other team can't help but stare at the girls. The video played, and as every minute passed, their reactions were solely entertained rather than angry. In some way, you were engaged by the comments, too.

Some groups said they'd rather have Paris Globel there, but you know that in the popularity game, every team would have lost right then and there.

Nearing the end, you couldn't help but smile at Audrey's reaction to her 6 stickers. Your crew didn't have anything bad to say about them, and they took note of this as they took their seats right next to yours.

Ling and Kristen give you a fist bump and smile, which is noticed by Bada, who sits one team away from Aesthete.

“They seem close, huh,” Tatter whispers to her leader, who nods, intrigued at your relationship with the international team. After hearing the praise from Jam Republic, she knew you shouldn’t be underestimated.

If people from other countries were saying good things on your behalf, you couldn't be as weak as the other crews said. The large screen then shows the show's logo as the lights begin moving around on the runway area of the stage.

"Is it starting?" Enyo asks, but her questions are answered by Kang Daniel coming out. All the women were cheering as he had the mic and queue cards in hand.

"Hello. Welcome to Mnet's original dance series, Street Woman Fighter 2, and I'm your host, Kang Daniel. Not only will we see the competitions between some of the best dance crews in Korea, but we have gone international this season - with global named crews, making the competition more intense."

Heaven and Lyn act out a fight, punching each other lightly. "Yah, chill out, please," Aria warns the two younger girls causing them to abruptly halt the play fight.

"You'll fight to crush all the other crews and reach the top. Only one crew can do that. Here's the first dance battle to be the winner of this competition."

Kang Daniel did very good at amping everyone up. As you leaned forward, arms laid on your knees, hiding the lower half of your face, you hid your smile of amusement.

"The signature of the dance series is your first mission, the no-respect battle with the weakest dancer." You were all told to change, and you take your water with you as you return to the stage.

As you leave your room, you see the tall figure with the Oreo hair leave the room right beside yours. You bow when you see her, and she reciprocates. Given that you were tall, standing at 5'8, looking slightly up to meet her gaze, it was surprising.

"Hello, Bada-nim," You reach your hand out, and her eyes go wide, looking stunned. "I just want to thank you for not saying anything negative on behalf of my team."

She gladly accepts your handshake with a friendly grin, "Hey man, I know what it feels like when people compare you to the idol instead of acknowledging your talents."

"You're telling me. I've been getting compared to my brother ever since everyone found out about us being related."

"I had those moments when dancing with Kai, but people warmed up to it, especially the more I choreographed for him."

You smile at her with envy, "I bet it's nice to hear the love from people." You lower your head and lean against the wall, feeling somewhat ashamed for feeling this way. "I'm a little jealous Bada-nim."

Bada tilts her head, confused at what you, out of everyone, had to be jealous about.

"My one wish after this entire show ends is for people to see me as Y/n, the leader of Asthete. The one who puts a lot of effort into their craft and passion. Not just a shadow of my brother."

Bada's eyes soften at your determined gaze. She could feel how much you meant every word you said to her. She could only assume how bad it was for you, but Bada never realized how much it affected your mental until you spoke to her.

Somehow, that being your first proper interaction and conversation with each other made Bada's heart race. She wasn't expecting you to open up, but she really appreciated it, as it motivated her.

You notice all the noise in the room behind her, "You wanna head down with me, or are you still waiting for your team?"

"I'll probably wait to make sure they don't take their sweet time," Bada jokes, and you give her a genuine laugh, knowing how it feels to have a team all younger than you. "Don't worry, I totally understand."

You then bow, excusing yourself to get to the main stage, where you see all of Jam Republic ready. "Kristen! Ling!" You say, coming up to the leader with a massive hug. You met the girls on your travel to New Zealand for a dance collaboration and loved their energy, causing you to keep in contact. "Hey, girl! Long time no see."

You pout, "I know, I've been busy, so I never got to visit you guys over there," you tell her as you point to Ling, trying to involve her in the conversation. She also hugs you and plays with your long, silky hair that was currently ashy brown in color. As the three talk, Bebe comes down and sees the interaction. "She's close to all of them?" Bada mumbled to herself. Lusher looks in their direction as well. "I guess so."

You begin telling jokes and stories about the recent classes you've taught. The newly arriving team saw you showing them a sample of a choreography, you probably made. You looked so happy and smiled brightly as you moved for them, not going all out to save energy. A smile frames Bada’s face as she takes a seat, comparing your energy to a child showing off a piece of candy they got.

Rather than the serious personality you showed when you first came in, you did a 180, displaying your doe eyes and bunny smile. "Oh, Audrey, I've meaning to say how big of a fan I am of your dancing."

Bada's thoughts stray away as she can't help but keep her eyes locked on your figure.

She wasn't gonna lie to herself. You are super attractive as you carry yourself with confidence and assertiveness.

The genes were strong, too. You looked like the female version of your brother, which was a given, but your nose just seemed a bit smaller and your lips were evidently plumper. From the eyes down to the smile and even tattoos that she could see, you were almost a carbon copy of him.

"Oo~ our teacher has some interest in the leader of Aesthete," Tatter teases, and Bada scoffs. "I'm just realizing how much she looks like Jungkook-nim."

"You got that right," Tatter says, and Minah butts in, "As hot as him too." The girls giggle at her comment, but they can't help but agree. "She's so cool," Cheche says.

You begin to raise the sleeves of your flannel, out of habit, as you continue your chat with Jam Republic and team Bebe's eyes widen. You had a few minimal tattoos on your left arm, but your right arm was what caught their attention.

Inked on your arm was a full sleeve covering your forearms and down to your hands. The tattoos were all in a delicate art style, but as they covered your entire arm, the combination was badass. It did suit you, but now your adorable image was flipped upside down in Bada’s mind.

If only you saw her gaze. It looked like she wanted to do unimaginable things to you, but in a quick flash, she realizes the setting she’s in and shakes her head a bit.

"She looks like she would beat someone up," Tatter mumbles, but Bada can't help but think your face doesn't match your body. You had innocent doe eyes and a cute smile while your body looked ready for a boxing match, from the tattoos down to your noticeable muscles. "The Jeon bloodline must be strong," Minah mumbles, but everyone agrees.

The rest of the crews begin entering, and you wave off the girls, returning to your team.

"Whoever is battling first better hype up the entire crowd. My hands are literally sweating right now," Ling says, but you side-eye her with a questioning stare. Emma noticed this, nudging Ling in your direction, causing the two of them to laugh.

Once they commence the battles, everyone gets nervous. "The first no-respect battle is... 1Million Redy."

Your gaze follows Redy as she comes down from her spot. "The person I pick as the weakest dancer is..." She teases the crowd, approaching Deep N Dap or Lady Bounce. Redy then does a complete reverse and stands before the light blue team, "Bada of Bebe."

An obnoxious squeal could be heard, and you covered your ears at the sudden pitch. Looking over your shoulder to see it was Heaven, your eyes grow wide. You never knew that sound could come from her body, as she was always the quiet one on the team.

"THE Bada Lee dancing? Take my money now." Enyo rolls her eyes and slaps her, "Dude, don't be embarrassing us...Have some dignity, please."

Your chuckle pulls the two girls out of their tiny argument, and they continue to pay attention. If Bada got Heaven to react that way, you knew you had to pay attention to her in this battle. The younger girl barely gives anyone a reaction but her members, yet here she was, fangirling over Bebe's leader.

You look over and see the taller woman nod her head. "Redy of 1Million picks Bada of Bebe as the worst dancer."

"I just don't respect you," Redy ends straight and clear. "That's it."

Bada slightly paces and smirks, "Not Redy. Soobin. You're still an eighth grader to me." You smile at the comment, feeling the hype after the comments. "Whaaaa~ unnie. This. Is. Amazing." Lyn jumps up and down as she holds onto your shoulders, keeping her balanced. You stayed seated as the battle began and couldn't help but stare at Bada. Her cold face would get countered by her confident personality.

Redy dances, and you nod your head ever so often. While the battle continues, you feel a pair of eyes staring at you.

You look across the stage and around until you see the pair of eyes that cause your alertness. It was Manequeen's own Barbie doll, Redlic. Your attention was back to the dance where you see Bada about to begin.

Your eyes travel all over her body as she teases the younger girl with her dance, the grinding, body rolls, the taunting? You loved seeing it all. She dominated the stage as a one-man act, and you applaud her for that, which she notices and bows. That was the first time you gave someone a reaction as you all filmed, so she felt good about her performance.

"Cards are open in 3! 2! 1!"

The judges flipped their cards quickly, showing Bebe winning 3:0. Monika picked up the mic and told Redy, "Compared to Bada, you did dance like an eighth grader." Saying it in a casual tone made even you feel hurt.

Everyone sits, and the following battle is about to occur, "Mannaqueen's Redlic, please take the stage."

She wastes no time, walking up to your crew and giving you a seductive look. "The dancer I pick with no respect is Jeon Y/n." You smirk at this and grab your mic.

"Redlic, why did you choose Y/n as the no-respect dancer?"

"I wanted to see if she could set the stage on fire with me on it," causing a very evident chuckle to come out of you. "I can. I can even make it burn," you say confidently.

"Alright, the fight shall begin!"

When it begins, Redlic starts feeling up her body to "Needed Me" by Rihanna and swaying her body. She gets closer to you, going around and shaking her ass in front of you, causing you to bite your lips at her antics. You’d never deny a beautiful woman making moves on you, even if it was just for her dance.

She adds some floor work and ensures she shows out using all her space. Redlic had you entranced for some time, and before you knew it, it was your turn, "3! 2! 1! Switch!"

Your song was "Or Nah" by Ty Dolla $ign, and as you begin, you take off your jacket, revealing your sleeveless white top, and everyone's eyes go wide seeing your arms and full tattoos. You were starting to look like a hot commodity on stage, and Redlic couldn't help but lick her lips at the sight.

Behind you, Bada was still trying to gather herself after her battle, but her face flushed again once you removed your flannel. She felt her body heating up and hoped to cover up her reactions by hiding behind her hands.

You grind on the floor, body rolling on Redlic's body while kneeling, then pull yourself up. You did some ticking moves and mixed in some slow motion in there. As you slow-mo a hip-grabbing movement, you go into a motion of locking and popping. Then, slide on the floor, adding a flip to finish your sensual dance.

Bada stares, the hardest she probably ever has, and you lock eyes for a second. Seeing her face and body language formed a sly grin on your face, making her look away, now blushing furiously. She can’t even keep her head in the game when she hears your win of 3:0 against Redlic.

"Unnie?" Lusher stares at her leader, who follows the direction of her eyes, and laughs at the realization. "Unnie, this isn't like you at all!" The sub-leader claps as she laughs, and Bada can't do anything but tell her to shut up, which only causes her to laugh harder.

After a few more battles, you could all take a 30-minute break before resuming.

Everyone sat down chatting, and you were again talking to Jam Republic. You and Audrey had tied 3 times in battle until they decided you won your last match. "Dude, I need to know how you did that neck-breaking move," you ask Audrey, and she giggles shyly. "Let me show you."

She shows you the move, and as you copy it perfectly, she claps for you, "Yes! Well, you got it, fast girl." You laugh at her and talk about her first dance battle. "Man, the first bone-breaking move was insane."

"Which one?"

"Oh, uh, this one," You show the move she hits during "Low" by Flo Rida. Audrey begins jumping excitedly, almost fangirling for you, even if it was her own move. Everyone in the studio notices your interaction with JR and gossip about it.

"I saw them talking before, so they must know each other."

"Well, I'm pretty sure Y/n has taught a class with Latirce and Kristen before, so it's unsurprising."

You make more friends and move to Bebe, who doesn't notice your presence. That was until Kyma looked like she'd seen a ghost in front of her, causing them to look behind and gasp, seeing you standing there in front of them.

"Hey," was the only thing that came out of your mouth, yet all of the Bebe members stared at you like you had just told them the most remarkable speech on the planet. Well, everyone other than Bada.

She stared at you with enticing eyes, and you quickly took notice of her motive. Regarding the No-respect battles, you had already danced in 5, most girls explaining it was just for fun. In every action you participated in, your eyes met with Bada's, and you never knew what ran through that head of hers as you couldn't even think while dancing.

But you figured it out now.

"Ah, Y/n-nim, I'm a big fan," Minah bows, and you wave your arms, trying to deny any praise. "You're an excellent dancer, no need to deny it. Pretty face and stage present too," Tatter says, mumbling the last part, but you heard it. Your hand guides Tatter's head to face you, and you smile, "If I'm pretty, you're gorgeous."

Her face turns bright red, and you pat her head, finding it cute. You then see a familiar face amongst the crew, "Lusher, it's been a while since you've been to one of my classes." The sub-leader's face is full of embarrassment for being called out. "Don't worry, I'm not mad about it," you tell her, and Lusher's tense body relaxes.

"I've just been more focused on Bebe the past year, but maybe after the show, you'd let me back in?"

"You're always welcome at my place. Any of you are, honestly. Nothing wrong with expanding your horizons in dance." You announce, but Bada scoffs a little. "This feels a bit insulting to me. I am their teacher, you know."

You had no ill intent behind your comment, but you wanted to tease her, "You can always join me too. I'm sure you'll be my number one student."

The two's faces are just inches away, both having a condescending smirk on their faces. Members of Bebe look at each other, feeling the intensity of their stares, but their eyes go large at your pitched idea.

"How do you think about this? After the show, we collaborate in a choreography and class, and then we can dance together. No competition needed." Your fingers then point to your crew and Bada's crew, "We can all dance together."

You were now leaning your arms on the bench, Bada sitting between your sleeveless arms. Lusher and Tatter can't help but giggle at the sight. It was like a fox versus a fox.

"Sure, but I don't know if I can wait that long to be a top student again." You read the subtly in her voice, implying something you couldn't put your finger on. You lick your lips at her gaze and grin.

"Win two more battles, and I'll take my top student out to dinner?'

Bebe's eyes widen again in shock. Never seen Bada's eyes look so mischievous as they did now.

"Deal~"

A/n: The ending feels super lacking on this one, but I might make a part 2 to satisfy myself😭.

-sivine

[p1nkprincess444]

ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ - ᴛᴏᴍ ᴋᴀᴜʟɪᴛᴢ

female!reader x zombie! tom kaulitz

word count: 1,058

contents: apocalypse, fluff, slightly gore-ish, small angst

part two

It had been almost ten days since the break out, you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in twelve. Almost no one understood what was happening, but those infected were that of zombies. You were completely and utterly alone as your parents never came home from work the day of the outbreak. You were camped out in your basement, you had used whatever you could find in the house to attempt to barricade yourself in, but already your food was running low. You cursed yourself for not picking up the groceries your mother asked you to as your stomach growled once more. You decided against moving the barricades from the doors, your eyes locking on a small basement window. You pried open the painted over window managing just barely to squeeze through the small frame. You were immediately alert to how your once vibrant neighborhood was that of a ghost town. You wearily made your walk to the store occasionally hearing a noise or birds chirping as if nothing was wrong. When you entered the store you were met by a few stray raccoons rummaging through the half opened bags of food. You grabbed a few bags filling them with whatever was left on the shelves not bothering with the perishables.

You safely made it back to you with your food but you realized a stranger had crawled in through the opened window. You cautiously clutched a board game box, the only thing you thought could be used as a weapon in the barely furnished basement. Your nails were digging into the soft cardboard as you kicked open the bathroom door. You were met with big orange eyes and the soft mewling of what appeared to be a stray black kitten. You sent down the box picking up the small animal cradling it in your arms. You didn’t feel so alone as you slept with the kitten in your arms that night. 

It was now day fourteen and it was the fourth day you had spent looking for Tom. You didn’t find any trace of him in his house, at the recording studio, the last place to check was the school. 

You wandered into the abandoned school building, the lights flickering adding to the ominous feel. You jumped what felt like five feet in the air when you heard what sounded like a metal tray clattering to the floor down the hall. You cautiously made your way to the chemistry lab or what was left of it. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw.

Your boyfriend was tearing at the throat of one of your former classmates, the boy's face was frozen in terror with blood sprayed across it. Almost as if Tom could sense your presence his head slowly lifted from the boy's throat turning to look at you. His mouth was covered in blood, his hands and nails covered in dirt with blood under his nails, he looked utterly bedraggled. You couldn’t move as you stood in the doorway with tears in your eyes clouding your vision, his appearance was starkly contrasting with his previous one, what happened to the boy you love? 

Tom approached you as your eyes quickly blinked away your tears that blurred your vision. He stared at you with a familiar curiosity, almost as if he recognized you. His hands moved to grasp your arms, his nails digging in but not piercing the skin. Tears freely ran down your cheeks as his dark sunken eyes stared into yours. Your body tensed as he slowly leaned in his mouth centimeters away from your neck. You were shaking in his arms as you waited for the inevitable to happen, but instead he sniffed you. Confusion flashed across your face, he held you still as he pulled his head back looking into your eyes. His arms locked around you in an instant pulling you into an almost crushing embrace. He wreaked of decay and rot as he held you close, you couldn’t tell if it was Tom smelling that way or the dead bodies that were attracting maggots on the floor. 

“ Girlfriend. ”

That was the only thing he could say. It broke your heart that Tom had turned into this, you knew you couldn’t just leave him here to feast off rotting bodies. 

“ Come with me, okay? ”

You managed to get Tom into a basement. You had a small set up now, your food and snacks were in the closet along with the kittens food, you had moved your mattress into the basement as well as blankets and pillows. There was already a small television in the basement along with a dvd player and an endless supply of dvd’s you made the best of what you could. 

You sat immediately and brought Tom into the small basement bathroom beginning to run a warm bath as you undressed him. His once warm and lively skin was now pale and bluish, his skin was cold and rough to the touch as you helped into the bath. You pampered him the way you would a small child washing his unkempt hair after you removed his disheveled braids. Once the more pungent smell of decay left his skin you helped him from the bath drying his now somewhat warm skin. You dressed him in clothes you had taken from his house, you packed them in hopes you would see him again, but didn’t imagine it this way. 

You both were now sat on top of your mattress watching Jaws as you rebraided Tom’s hair to the best of your ability. He had been relatively calm the whole time, only once panicking when soap got in his eyes, but he jerked away from you when your small kitten rubbed against his legs. He stood upright, his hair only half braided as he practically ran from the cat to the otherside of the basement. 

“ It’s only a cat- He’s harmless Tom. ”

Tom knew he should trust you; he was terrified of the innocent-looking animal. You didn’t want to panic him more so you tucked the cat away in the bathroom. Tom eventually relaxed once more allowing you to finish his braids and lay him down. 

The blankets were draped over both of you, but you weren’t asleep unlike Tom. Thoughts were running through your head trying to make sense of it all.

[visionboardstudio01]

[witchygirlgray333]

Some journal prompts I like (writing and creative) :

I’m going to do a separate list for some chronic illness journal ideas bc I’ve found it’s so helpful!

Write out the lyrics to your favourite song and/or do a drawing / painting / collage of your interpretation of the song

Books you want to read

Films you want to watch

Diary entry about your day

Bujo style - plan out your week or month

Pressed flowers

Scripting (manifestation)

Vision board (manifestation)

Notes on a topic you’re learning about (for example I like to watch lots of nature or history documentaries and sometimes I make notes on them in my journal or if it’s witchy stuff I write it in my grimoire)

Letter to past you / future you / someone in your life (remember they don’t have to read it, this has helped me so much in certain situations so I can get out whatever I want to say without upsetting people) / someone you love who has passed on / the god or deity you worship if you worship one / to your future children / future partner

Wishlist

Ideas for things (like stories you want to write, photo shoots, fashion, films, art etc)

Poetry (either that you’ve written or that someone else has written that you like)

Get to know me page so if you want to look back on your journal in the future you can see what you were like then

Films you’ve watched / books you’ve read / favourite songs from the past month

Positive affirmations

Shadow work

Sticker / photo dump

Recipes

Go sit in nature and draw or write about what you see or feel when you’re there

Draw out your alter ego

Stick in scraps from throughout your day (such as receipts, labels from things, stickers, pictures etc)

Book reviews

To do lists

Design your dream room

Your childhood (draw or write about childhood memories, hobbies, things you used to collect, stick in childhood photos, the toys you used to play with etc)

Travel bucket list

Life bucket list

Family tree

Write a list of things that make you happy

Stream of consciousness

Write about your dreams and what you think they might mean

Brain dump (I sometimes do this before I go to sleep if somethings going on)

Doodle page

Stick in notes your loved ones have written to you

List of favourite quotes

Self care ideas

List of songs / playlist

Goals in life / 5 year plan

Plan a day out or a holiday

Plan content you want to make for social media

Tattoos you want to get

Things that make you happy

Outfit ideas

Hobbies you currently have

Hobbies you want to try

List of things you collect

Yoga / exercise routine

Seasonal bucket lists

Things you want to learn or research

Mood tracker

Stick in any colouring pages you’ve done

Daily skincare routine

List of Studio Ghibli films and tick off the ones you’ve watched

List of your favourite things

List of things to do when you’re bored

If you normally write about your day, draw pictures of all the things you did instead of writing (a bit like in a comic book)

Advice people have given you that has been really helpful

Ideal morning / night routine

Notes from therapy / hospital appointments

Page of all your cinema tickets

List of people that inspire you

Angel numbers

Crystals and their meanings

Your favourite artists

Worry tree

Favourite memories

Write your dream wardrobe

Reasons to stay alive

Stick in photos and write a bit about them

Names you like

Favourite words

Write about an event (a description of what happened, how it left you feeling, who was there and what they said and did, what you wish had happened instead, the reasons why you find it hard to let go, steps you could take to start to move on)

Notes on a language you’re learning

Collage about a film you’ve recently watched

Glow up check list

Write about a tarot reading you did

What does heaven and hell mean to you

Flip through a magazine and do a collage of pictures from it

[afternoondreaming]

No Business Like Show Business (3/?)

Hey there, everyone! Sorry it’s been a bit of a hot minute without any writings- celebrated my birthday this month, so I’ve been a tad busy! Now I’m rewarding myself with writing my dear Puzzle man. Also, can’t believe they let my man say fuck. We’re truly in the future, folks

“…Starlet? Oh, Starlet…? Do you make a habit of ‘spacing out’?” Mr. Puzzles leaned across the table to get closer to your eye level, waving his hand in front of your face. You were, as of current, left aghast at the man’s suggestion. Work alone? It was ridiculous. A studio couldn’t be ran by itself! Yet, the more you thought of it, the more the puzzle pieces fit together. A building bereft of staff, left obviously unused. The interviews where he simply posed the questions to himself. All the unanswered résumés constantly being shipped in… Besides those few actors he had on board briefly, which he seemed to hold a grudge against given his attitude in the shows, this was a one man show.

“How… Do you pump out all this content?” You spoke slowly, turning your focus to him again. He looked surprised that you finally spoke up, but quickly switched his screen to a more offended face.

“Excuse you! I don’t make content and it’s not ‘pumped out’!” If a TV could pout, it was about as close as one could get to it. “I make art! I make cinema!” Mr. Puzzles roughly slammed his hands against the desk, kicking up dust as he sprung to his feet. As you began to cough, he continued his confident rambling. “Puzzlevision’s film making techniques are proprietary, so! Until you sign on the dotted line and accept such a golden opportunity, you’ll never know~!” The man looked smug as he leaned closer across the table, goading you on.

As you tried to wave away the rest of the dust, you began to think. You were certainly curious and having such a big name on your résumé would certainly catapult you to whatever heights you wanted to reach. There was just one problem…“Listen, Mr. Puzzles, while I really want to accept this offer… The commute will be way too long. I need to find a place first before I can accept-“

“Oh! That. Easy fix!” He habitually interrupted you, rising from his chair to round the table towards you. “It’s rather common for companies to cover moving costs and provide local housing listings~ I believe there’s a few in the apartment complex across the street! We’ll simply get you settled in there.” Like a fact he said it plainly, hand coming down to pay your shoulder assuredly. “I take it you accept, then?”

“Well, yes, but-“

“Perfect!” The TV in front of you turned manic, eerie face with realistic eyes and smile jittering. “Time to share my genius Puzzlevision process, partner.” Suddenly you felt a pull. A gravitational force towards the man’s screen, all the while that disturbing face towered over you.

“Woah- hey- what’s going on-!” Before you could finish your sentence, you were pulled closer to the screen. Vision quickly going to black as you lost all awareness of the dusty interview room around you.

“Ugh… What just happened…?” You groaned, pushing yourself up off of the floor you were lying on. As you got your bearings, you wished you didn’t. All around you, you were surrounded by void. Giant TVs all around you filled with a low, droning static. Shaking, you picked yourself up off the floor. “Hello…? Is anyone there?” You were in an interview before, right?

“Welcome! To the Puzzlevision proprietary secret!” A booming, familiar voice called out. Up from the void below rose a giant, familiar figure. Right. Mr. Puzzles. How could you possibly forget. “You’re absolutely star struck, Starlet, I know~!” With a knuckle he tapped against the side of his head causing the whole world to shake, nearly toppling you over again. “My head always makes for the best sets and crew!”

“I’m… In your head.” It was hard to believe. I mean, who possibly could? First the man has a TV for a head in the first place. Now this? “Right now. Your head. In it.”

“Right you are, my dear little Starlet! Who needs a studio when you have the realm of imagination!” Mr. Puzzles dramatically struck a pose, a happy smile on his face as he waited for your reaction.

“And you expect me to work here.” It felt like your head was going to explode.

“Well, when we’re filming, yes!” Your question seemed to take him aback, pose dropping as he looked confused. “If you’d like to write in here, you certainly can… But I will gladly dust off the old studio for you and I to brainstorm in~” There it was again. The fact that only you two- and, let’s face it, it’s essentially just you- will be writing, producing, and workshopping movies. Entirely. By. Yourself.

“I…I think I’m gonna lie down for a minute...”

“Starlet? Starlet-!” You couldn’t hear the rest of the flamboyant man’s cries, as you quickly found yourself dropping like a puppet with its strings cut all the way to the ground.

[stra-tek]

More Roddenberry Archive musings...

This is supposedly the launch configuration of the Prime universe U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701's main bridge. It's based on the first piece of concept art for the TOS set, and is one of several weird not-quite-canon things the Roddenberry Archive has decided to consider canonical. 2 command chairs and the whole centre console and chairs spins to face the very minimalist 60's scifi perimeter consoles or viewscreen. Try to imagine Captain April and first officer Chris Pike on this bridge, it's weird.

Behold! The top of the Jeffries Tube.

FERENGI ATM MACHINE ON THE PROMENADE!!!!

The view from OG Captain Pike's bed, featuring his awesome TV, his laser gun and his Starfleet hat. We wouldn't get hats back in Trek for 50 years.

This is inside the Ringship Enterprise XCV-330, circa 2100. The Ringship in canon was seen only in picture form or a desktop model, we never saw inside. The ship was actually designed for a non-Trek Roddenberry scifi show called Starship which never came to be, and there was actually concept art made for the interior which the RA people decided to import to Trek too. Predating the transporter, here is the Metafier.

Discovery Season 2's U.S.S. Enterprise has a cool corridor running around it. Walk around it and... it goes nowhere😂 the Archive tries to balance the reality of everything being a television show with the fantasy of a 100% accurate in-universe museum, it'll give sets ceilings to make them into a believable spaceship but doesn't want to go nuts inventing too much of it's own stuff and that sometimes leads to weird stuff like this dead end

Speaking of ceilings, here's the ceiling and lights of the classic TOS Enterprise's corridors. I think they did a decent job keeping to the TOS aesthetic. The sets TOS was filmed on didn't have ceilings at all.

The Enterprise-B actually had a red carpet for special guests Kirk, Scotty and Chekov

Strange New Worlds has the coolest transporter room of all. Just look at it😍

The TNG Enterprise battle bridge has it's own ready room! And it's super tiny, ultra cramped and Picard probably never used it because there's no replicator in there and thus no access to tea.

The 1st version of TNG engineering's big Master Systems Display as seen in "Encounter at Farpoint". Ten Forward wouldn't be a thing until season 2, and you can see here an earlier deck layout and the original concept for the saucer rim, a corridor walkway with windows above and below. You'll also note Ten Forward would actually be on deck 11 had they not changed the diagram by then.

Kirk's quarters on the TOS Enterprise has dresser drawers full of uniforms for when his gets torn

Walking around the Roddenberry Archive ships is eerie as hell. You're the only one on board, exploring corridors and poking your head into rooms. These starships are liminal spaces. This for me adds to the atmosphere greatly.

Here's the link (enjoy before it vanishes again!):

Roddenberry.x.io

Here's my original post about the Roddenberry Archive:

Also a clarification, I was wrong when I said it won't be in VR. There is one VR setup it was designed for - the $3,000 Apple Vision Pro. More details here, although it appears to only show a 2D window rather than be fully immersive 3D, possibly confirming what I was told previously that no current 3D setup is capable of doing a true VR experience:

[neil-gaiman]

I'm incredibly glad that Amazon have let you pursue your creative vision so that we end up with a Good Omens that 100% reflects you and Terry, but do you ever have any qualms about working with a company so generally exploitative and unethical? How do you reconcile that?

Probably the same way that people using Tumblr who don't like Amazon cope with the fact that Tumblr runs on Amazon Web Services.

Good Omens was meant to have been made originally by the BBC, but the budget cuts that the BBC has endured over recent decades meant that once they had approved the scripts they also had to face the facts that they couldn't afford to make it without a partner. They approached a number of potential partners and the only one who was willing to come on board and who enthusiastically understood and embraced what Good Omens as TV could be was the Prime Video comedy department. So the BBC did it with them and with BBC Studios producing. (For season 2 the relationship changed slightly and BBC studios is making it for Amazon.)

I very much hope that Amazon workers get to unionize, and get treated better, and that the Amazon shopping interface goes back to being useful rather than a parade of sponsored irrelevance. And at the same time I've worked with many other streamers and studios and networks and I am very grateful for the people and the culture at Prime Video.

[isagrimorie]

Disney+ Putting 'Showrunner' as Jac Schaeffer's title is a win for the WGA.

I remember in 2021 everyone was miffed when Disney+ had Jac Schaeffer credited as a Headwriter.

Effectively, the studio is making its TV shows as if they were roughly six-hour movies, applying the same production methodology it’s used for the 23 unprecedentedly successful interconnected feature films that comprise the Marvel Cinematic Universe. That means empowering directors to lead a lot of creative decision-making, in collaboration with a small cadre of hands-on Marvel creative executives who are with the project from the beginning and report up to Feige.

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For writers outside the company, however, Marvel’s decision to diminish the wide creative autonomy showrunners have traditionally wielded in TV — with directors and executives not just calling more shots within the production but also sitting in the writers’ room and requesting rewrites — touches a particularly raw nerve.

Fast forward to 2023 after the flop that was Secret Invasion and the mess of the first Disney+ Daredevil series, and after the WGA strike, Disney will now use Showrunners.

Daredevil is far from the first Marvel series to undergo drastic behind-the-scenes changes. Those who work with Marvel on the TV side have complained of a lack of central vision that has, according to sources, begun to afflict the studio’s shows with creative differences and tension. “TV is a writer-driven medium,” says one insider familiar with the Marvel process. “Marvel is a Marvel-driven medium.”  On the Oscar Isaac starrer Moon Knight, show creator and writer Jeremy Slater quit and director Mohamed Diab took the reins. Jessica Gao developed and wrote She-Hulk: Attorney at Law but was sidelined once director Kat Coiro came on board. Production was challenging, with COVID hitting cast and crew, and Gao was brought back to oversee post-production, a typical showrunner duty, but it’s the rare Marvel head writer who has such oversight.

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Marvel is making concrete changes in how it makes TV. It now has plans to hire showrunners. Gao’s postproduction work on She-Hulk helped Marvel see that it would be helpful for its shows to have a creative throughline from start to finish. “It’s a term we’ve not only grown comfortable with but also learned to embrace,” says Winderbaum of showrunners and Marvel TV’s intention to hire them. The studio also plans on having full-time TV execs, rather than having executives straddle both television and film. “We need executives that are dedicated to this medium, that are going to focus on streaming, focus on television,” says Winderbaum, “because they are two different forms.”  It also is revamping its development process. Showrunners will write pilots and show bibles. The days of Marvel shooting an entire series, from She-Hulk to Secret Invasion, then looking at what’s working and what’s not, are done. And just as Loki, which returned Oct. 5, marked Marvel’s first season two of a series (out of nine TV shows to date), the studio plans on leaning into the idea of multi season serialized TV, stepping away from the limited-series format that has defined it. Marvel wants to create shows that run several seasons, where characters can take time to develop relationships with the audience rather than feeling as if they are there as a setup for a big crossover event. 

Marvel tried to reinvent the wheel but found out the hard way why TV is made the way it's made. But also, it's hilarious how Disney Marvel tried to sell this whole strategic move as solely their idea and not because WGA strike kicked them in the teeth.

So, Jac Schaeffer getting the Showrunner credit on a Disney-Marvel 'Making Of' episode is a really big win.