#and there’s like minimum three joke songs

[joy-jpg]

borderline unlistenable music taste gf and puts everything in one playlist bf

[hella1975]

my sister is currently doing her nightly *douse myself in water for 5 mins despite it leaving PUDDLES EVERYWHERE BTW and then spend 20 mins applying imported skincare i spent all my money on* in SILENCE sans any form of music meanwhile she walked in on me having a party of one (1) at myself in the bathroom mirror to set it off of all things. it's a bit funny that we are related by blood

[hotchner-edu]

Descend | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: You and Jack plan out a surprise birthday party for Aaron, but it's hard to keep secrets while dating a profiler. — part 4 of (1 , 2 , 3 ... can be read as a standalone)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Younger (Of Age) F!Reader

Warnings: best friend's father trope, fluff, sassy jack hotchner, allusions to smut

Your mind was running three miles a minute as you ramble out an endless list of party supplies and worries. Jack is sitting in the passenger seat as you drive, and you're being very careful as you brake (since Jack had once told you he'd get a concussion one day from your driving).

"Streamers, balloons... oh gosh, I hope that Aaron isn't called away for a case, could you imagine that?... Oh! Do you think we should get a cake from the bakery by 8th street? He liked the cupcakes I got from there... Fuck... his birthday is in two days, why did I wait so long to get supplies!" You speak rapidly, tapping the steering wheel anxiously as Jack queues up some songs.

Your best friend raises his eyebrows in amusement and shakes his head. "You have got to calm down. My dad will like anything you do for him. Hell, you could probably just text him 'Happy Birthday' and he'll be all smiles for the rest of the day."

"This is serious, Jack!" You huff with a small worried frown. "Birthdays are so complicated." A defeated groan falls from your lips.

"Just do what I do for Leah. I get her some flowers and take her to dinner for her birthday." Jack tries to placate you, smiling a bit boyishly as he talks about his girlfriend.

You snort softly and tease him playfully. "In other words... the bare minimum?" You joke and make a right turn into the party supply store parking lot.

"First of all, fuck you." Jack quips back lightheartedly, waiting until you park the car to flick your arm.

Despite Jack's insistence that Aaron wasn't expecting anything huge for his birthday, your best friend allows you to drag him around town as you raid store shelves and make numerous phone calls to local bakeries.

Unfortunately, your mind is a prolific river of anxieties as you are suddenly hit with the realization that you're dating a profiler of all people. When the next morning rolls around, your newest concern was that Aaron would catch on to your plans to throw him a surprise party.

It was nearing seven in the morning, and it was the day before Aaron's birthday. You couldn't sleep too well, the gnawing worries of things going askew tormenting you even as you rested, twisting your stomach into knots.

Feeling a tightening against your stomach, you blush a little as you look down and remember just where you were. You had decided to spend the night at Aaron's house again, and you both had stayed up quite late.

You feel a soft kiss being pressed to the back of your neck. "Are you up, sweetheart?" His gruff morning voice fills your ears as he pulls you even closer to his body.

"Mhm... you're up early too..." You mumble back and run your hand along his arm.

"Felt you twisting and turning." He grumbles back softly as he yawns a litte, shuffling for a moment before returning to his previous movements of kissing down your neck and back.

You smile softly and the butterflies in your stomach flutter as you speak lightly. "Do you have the day off today?"

You were torn. A part of you was hoping he would so that you could spend the day with him, but another part of you hoped he'd be at the office so you could go pick up his cake and his gift.

"I do. How should we spend it, I wonder..." He says almost mischievously, his warm hand laying flat against your stomach and rubbing it before sliding lower.

"Well, unless you want to wake Jack up..." you trail off and smile widely, teasing him back by stopping his hand.

He grunts, dipping his head to kiss and suck on the junction between your neck and shoulder. That was definitely going to leave a hickey. "We can be quiet." He mumbles against your skin.

"Horny old man." You grumble playfully.

Aaron chuckles deeply, voice still a bit rough from sleep as he moves to lean over you. "Yes, yes, now let me love you."

By the time you manage to escape Aaron's sinful temptations and addicting touch, it's closer to nine am. He decides to take a shower as you head down to start making breakfast after brushing your teeth.

When you step into the kitchen, you see Jack rubbing his eyes as he sits at the kitchen island. "For Christmas I want noise cancelling headphones and for you guys to soundproof the bedroom." He muses without even looking up at you, texting on his phone.

You cringe a little and mentally kick yourself. "I'm so sorry..."

Jack waves you off, yawning and stretching his arms above his head. "I'm just pulling your leg, I was able to fall back asleep. Besides, 's not like I haven't put you through the same."

You shiver a little at the memories of waking up to Jack's varying shenanigans in adjacent rooms during trips with your friend group. "I think we should both just gift each other noise cancelling headphones."

"Yeah... well I'm staying over at Leah's tomorrow night, so go crazy." He says, smiling as he gets another text from his girlfriend. "Oh, and speaking of tomorrow, did you need me to help set up for the party?"

You groan at the thought. Ideally, Aaron would be at the office for a couple of hours today so you could go pick up some things, and then be gone until the evening tomorrow so you could set up for the party.

"Still not sure about that... Aaron doesn't have work today, and I'm not sure about tomorrow either." Your tone is low as you start grabbing ingredients from the fridge.

Jack huffs, clearly understanding your dilemma. "I can try and get him out of the house tomorrow if he doesn't have to work. Have a father-son bonding day or something."

You nod and smile. "Yes, please." You smile appreciatively.

"You're on your own today though, Leah wants to get lunch with me." Jack says playfully.

"So your usefulness does have a limit." You quip back with a deadpan look.

Later in the day, you slip away to make a quick phone call after coming up with an idea to get Aaron out of the house.

"This is Dave." You hear the older man's voice ring out.

You clear your throat softly. "Hi Dave. It's me, I need a favor."

"Ah, I was wondering when I'd hear from you." David chuckles. "Is the party still happening tomorrow?" He asks kindly.

"Yes, it is. The rest of the team is still able to make it, right?" You ask softly, keeping your voice hushed as you can hear Aaron shuffling around downstairs.

"Yep, our schedules are cleared for tomorrow. Y'know, Aaron was rushing to finish his paperwork all week, he wanted to get the weekend off to spend it with you and Jack." He says with a teasing lilt in his voice.

You wince a little in guilt and sigh. "Ah... Well, actually... would it be possible for you to call Aaron into the office for like... two hours? I need to go pick up some things for him last minute."

"He's going to bite my head off, kiddo." David muses, sounding resigned to that fact already.

"You have seniority, you'll be okay." You say and chuckle.

You hear the man sigh a little before chuckling fondly. "Alright, I'll think of something."

Exhaling in relief, you thank the man profusely before hanging up.

You slowly retreat from the quiet room, almost walking directly into Aaron's chest as you close the door behind you. "Oh!"

"There you are, honey. What were you doing in the towel closet?" Aaron asks in amusement, curiosity filling his tone. You could see the gears in his head turning as he sees your phone in your hand.

"Phone call." You explain simply, leaning up to kiss him. "Also, Jack heard us this morning." You grumble and playfully smack his chest, trying to change the topic.

Aaron frowns a little at that and rubs your back. "He needs to move out." He says jokingly while maintaining his serious expression.

Chuckling, you pat his chest and shake your head. "Now, now, we both know you'd cry if that were to actually happen."

Luckily, Dave actually manages to come up with some excuse for Aaron to drop by the office not even an hour later. Your boyfriend is grumbling the whole time he gets ready, and you felt guilty seeing his mood drop.

"He said it'd be quick, right? Just in and out." You say softly, kissing him while fixing up his tie.

"Yeah... I'll be back soon, okay?" He reassures you, cupping your cheek and stroking his thumb across your soft skin. He gazes into your eyes before bringing you in for a deeper kiss. "I love you." He whispers against your lips.

"I love you, too." You whisper back with a giddy smile, leaning into him as he runs his hands down your body.

When Aaron finally makes his way out of the house and toward his car, Jack is getting back home from his date at the same time.

Jack looks at him in surprise and smiles a bit as he takes in his father's appearance. "Hey, dad. Going to work?"

Aaron nods and glances back at the house quickly. "Just for a bit. What time should I be out of the house tomorrow?"

Jack pauses and blanches. "Uh... what?"

"So Y/N has time to set up for the surprise party." Aaron answers with a fond grin, chuckling a bit to himself.

"You knew?" Jack deflates a bit and sighs.

"Yeah, I figured it out this morning." Aaron says, remembering the way you were lost in thought all day, with Dave's 'work emergency' call just confirming his suspicions.

Jack nods and smiles a bit in defeat. "Alright... Uhm, you should leave the house at like two tomorrow. Also, can you just pretend to be surprised tomorrow? She's been super stressed these past few days."

Aaron chuckles and nods, patting Jack on the shoulder before walking toward his car, speaking up a bit as he walks. "Don't worry, I was planning on it."

True to his words, and to your absolute cluelessness, Aaron plays up his delighted surprise the next day when his team members surprise him in his living room. Though, it wasn't too difficult considering how you and Jack had transformed the house in the time he was gone.

Seeing your beaming face across the room made going to the office all day worth it. As he thanked everyone for coming, he couldn't help but think about how he'd love to spend the rest of his birthdays with you.

As the night continues, genuine surprise colors his face when you finally give him your birthday gift to him after everyone settles down in the kitchen to eat.

He flips through the booklet you hand him with complete wonderment, looking at the various professional photos you had taken of yourself posed in lingerie. The photos looked like something straight out of a magazine, and your otherworldly beauty had his knees growing weak.

"Happy birthday, honey." You whisper sweetly into his ear, kissing his neck as his mind malfunctions for a moment. "Also... we have the house to ourselves tonight."

His hand moves down to grip your hip, softly groaning into your ear. "Is it too soon to tell everyone to get out of the house?"

You smile and kiss his jaw, pulling away from him and shaking your head. "Now, don't be like that. They're here to celebrate you after all." With that, you disappear into the kitchen as Aaron gazes after you in utter worship.

"Wicked, wicked woman." Aaron mumbles to no one in particular as he forces himself to go put the booklet away to rejoin the party.

He really couldn't wait for his next birthday.

[nerodivergentgrimreaper]

Redacted Pack High School HC's

Highschool David wasn't too involved with school clubs but he did play baseball all four years and was a percussionist in the schools band

Highschool David did however have an after school job at Max's Rustic Pizza (Asher 100% took advantage of the friend's and family discount )

Highschool David was definitely a more of a math guy and was in honors classes for everything in Math and Science.

Highschool David was also the first of the pack to get his licence so Gabe made sure to help get him a car with enough seats so David could do a carpool with the other pack kids

Highschool David always made sure to pack a extra snack because he noticed a particular pack member only got the bare minimum during lunch

Highschool Asher carried all of his textbooks in his bag and hardly ever used his locker

Highschool Asher originally joined theater as a joke his freshman year but ended up loving it so much that he continued for every play/musical

Highschool Asher passed most of his classes just by the skin of his teeth and often did his homework with David and Milo

Highschool Asher failed his permit test twice before finally getting it. His car was handed down to him by his sister so it had flower decals on the back bumper. He loved that car.

Highschool Asher always got a little too into spirit week themes going as far to buy costumes for some of them

Highschool Milo did both Soccer and Wrestling in high school. The day's he wasn't at practice he was at his afterschool job

Highschool Milo actually got his license before Asher but didn't get a car until after he graduated. His car was a used beater he bought using money he saved up from his job

Highschool Milo would often try to turn down hanging out with his friends because he couldn't afford to spend money on little things like movie tickets but was always dragged out by Asher who already planned on paying for him

Highschool Milo was always worried about his future so he had straight A's and was was in as many honors and AP courses as he could get his hands on

Highschool Milo was in band as an elective and played the Saxophone. He always looked for an excuse to learn jazz songs and loved to surprise his mom with her favorites

Highschool Tank was a year younger than the other three and was actually good friends with a Stealth who they met through being lab partners their freshman year

Highschool Tank didn't do any extracurriculars but liked to hang around and watch their other's sports practices

Highschool Tank often hung around the local skatepark and even taught Asher how to skateboard

Highschool Tank normally kept a low profile but did get suspended one time their sophomore year for punching someone who was making fun of Asher

Highschool Tank who loved getting rides from David as the two of them share a similar taste in music

[goldfades]

Okay, so I’ve actually been thinking about this non-stop, but I’m no writer, so you’ll have to bear with me: Manager y/n, who is doing ‘research’ for the Paige edits, gets super into TikTok for like a week before they have to cut themselves off.

And during this week, they��re not just watching videos – no, they’re posting them. I’m talking like 5 a day MINIMUM. It all starts when they see the “who’s afraid of little old me” sound is trending and promptly post a slideshow, beginning with a soft, smile-filled picture of them with the team before “you should be” is sung out, and it cuts to a like 10-second compilation they had seen of them and the team screaming at refs or just looking super pissed off on the sidelines (as others have mentioned, the rbf is no joke).

Fans, of course, go crazy because, omg they’re posting on their account now? (It’s chalked up to KK’s influence.) And when their first video blows up, Manager y/n is officially hooked.

After seeing Paige’s Tru Fru video, they use the song to make an edit of them and the team using mostly unseen pictures and videos from the Europe trip to “I was over love and I’d had enough ‘till I found you”. It’s just so painfully sweet and a little bit sappy; people love it.

Things take a dramatic turn, though, when they discover thirst traps. NOW, they only post one, but one is enough to send people spiraling. “That’s my playpen, borderline thinking like Barbie.”

Lives are lost that day.

And the team’s reaction? Let's just say they've never hit the repost button faster. Paige has it saved and favorited in her camera roll, but you didn’t hear that from me.

“Now I’m down bad, crying at the gym” is posted to a video from when they tried to do the team’s conditioning day with them, and things didn’t go well. Manager y/n is strong, but this is a whole other level; they don’t even make it past the first hour before tears are shed. The whole team finds it hilarious (and it is).

KK gets them into dances too; there’s at least three posted to “Get it sexyy” before the day is done. And there’s soooo much more. “There must have been an angel by my side” is posted with Ice and Azzi. A “You know how to ball, I know Aristotle” ‘fit check with Paige goes triple platinum on the platform. And there are a perhaps unreasonable number of videos posted to “make her disappear just like poof, then she’s gone, addicted don’t know what the fuck I’m on” from a particularly fun night out (they had to take frantically down half of them when they woke up, but we won’t talk about that).

But perhaps the true pièce de résistance is ‘Man eater’. It was supposed to just be a ‘fit check after they got particularly dressed up for a team dinner/fundraiser but simply put, the people couldn’t take it. It took less than an hour for edits to start rolling in, and when some multiple people in their classes the next day (INCLUDING THEIR FAVORITE PROFESSOR) tells them they saw it , Manager y/n decided to take a step back (they can handle online attention, but in person is a whole different ball game).

After all, ���we can’t have too many celebrities on this team.”

Last notes: This brief deep dive does dramatically affect the quality of the edits they make though; there was just so much inspiration to be taken (for research purposes only of course). 2 weeks after they stop posting on their personal account, a Paige and Nika hype edit to ‘Carnival’ is posted on the UConn page. They almost get in trouble for it, but they gain a couple of thousand followers and it quickly becomes the most liked video on their page. And who’s going to get mad at someone for what turns out to be a stroke of marketing genius (explicit lyrics be damned)?

THIS IS NOW MY FAV THING EVERTRR CUS YOURE SO SO SO RIGHT, i love the way u think nonnie

absolutely, and i feel like after the week is over she’s on the same level as paige — there are fan edits EVERYWHERE and manager is getting so much attention from everyone (ofc she doesn’t mind tho)

when she stops posting as much as she used to i can def see everyone begging for scraps 😭😭 they reuse the same 10 clips they have and the scraps they can find up until queen y/n posts again 😭😭

pls send more thoughts this was so much reading through it!

[chaifootsteps]

Regarding the anon's question about Hazbin getting rebooted in the future and hoping someone does... that's actually one of my personal goals.

Eventually. A few decades down the line when a reboot becomes feasible, plus after I hopefully launch one of the three main series I'm working on pitching (one of which is Hazbin-inspired, the other two drawing elements from other things I love).

Can't say for sure if it will ever come to that point, but in the hypothetical scenario that it ever does get to that point I have a few plans I'm swearing by if that does happen in the future:

Get as many of the original pilot cast as possible, providing they want to be part of the reboot and can still do the voices. If for some reason studio heads deem I can only pick two from the original pilot, Michael and Ed. If for some reason only one, Ed at the bare minimum and I will fight tooth-and-nail for that.

Make sure every character talks differently. Of the main cast, limit the swears to Husk and Angel as regular parts of their vernacular (Husk moreso than Angel, Angel gets the sex jokes). Have Charlie swear on a few occasions but be a bit nervous when she does except when the chips are down. Have Alastor only swear when the chips are down. And give him 1920's/30's slang (mostly 20's since if I recall he died in 1933).

Give Charlie her pilot spine back.

Depending on the episode length, have 1 song per episode, except on the scant few episodes that are musical episodes in themselves (think the A Canterlot Wedding 2-parter in Friendship is Magic). And only have the songs when the characters' emotions are at the height, for good or bad.

Properly showcase the worldbuilding. Make the hierarchy and the nature of contracts clear. Give Lucifer a bit of his "powerful King of Hell" persona back. Showcase the contrast between Heaven and Hell. Make them feel like fleshed-out places.

Don't have Hell just look like LA but red. It's a place that combines sinners from all different locations, times, and backgrounds with eldritch horrors who live there. Lean into that, have fun!

Slow down the pacing. Have the redemption plotline not be rushed. Take time to get to know the characters. While it would suck if the story was cancelled due to not having later season's greenlit, it's infinitely better for a series' longevity with its fandom to have them wanting more rather than looking back at a show and thinking the pacing was incredibly rushed. Don't ruin what you can tell because you worry about what you might not be able to.

That's an awesome goal. My crusty old ass will be watching eagerly!

[cringetownusa]

The Warner Tax Rant.

Being “So far below the poverty line, they’re off the graph”, doesn’t seem to be a statement only true in the movie after all. This is almost 1k words. Sit tight.

OG RANT DATE: 3/22/2023 We know the Warners pay taxes. We know they pay income tax from the “We pay tons of income tax” line from the 90s intro. Tons is subjective, but we also know based on many instances of the Warners gaining some sort of monetary wealth(even to be immediately taken away) that money is something they care about(1). There’s been jokes(2) about how little they’re paid by the studio, one of which from a cut song about tiny things where the smallest thing of all was their paychecks. We know in the comics they also just. Don't have money to treat themselves to nice outings and so they have a separate thing they call “The Cute Fund”(3) where the Warners allow people to pay to pinch their cheeks, and they use that money for things like trips. Not only are the Warners like wicked underpaid and taken advantage of for being children, but since they were originally from the 30s, when they were released from the tower for the 90’s show they didn't know what the base wage was at the time. 

So even with all their fame in the 90s (on the level that would make it a cultural phenomenon, eg: clothes, games, theme park partnerships, school supplies) they were not fairly compensated for it.

But even with them being such a household name, if they had to talk over their own contracts, they were likely tricked into thinking they were getting a better wage just by holding it up to what they were paid for their very few paychecks for their 30s films, even if they’re smart kids, they’re just kids, and between desperation and relief of being released, their judgement may have been clouded on their own contracts. They were probably also just thankful to be getting the opportunity to get them at all because it meant that they would get time outside the tower for the first time in 60 years Anyway these thoughts brought me to thinking about Yakko having to calculate their paychecks and do taxes every year since they have an income.

But based on how little the three of them make together and how expensive California is, i assume tax season is pretty stressful for poor Yakko.

In the 90s when there wasn't a ton of tech going around it meant he'd have to do all their taxes by hand with a calculator and a bunch of notes and i am thinking of this poor boy pouring over then at like 12 in the morning after Wakko and dot have gone to bed under the guise of practicing his lines.

For assistance programs that exist for humans that the warners making so little money might qualify for, e.g. food stamps, would they even be approved?

Maybe toons get rejected for that since "they don't need to eat" regardless of toons like wakko who are designed differently to eat more and always be hungry and also hypoglycemic(4). (5)So in the 30s, minimum wage was .25 an hour, which translates to a little over $4 an hour now

In 1990, the minimum was was 4.75 ($9.19 as of 2024)

HOWEVER

We can assume toon labor laws would be different since they didn't even have the right to vote until 2020 bc of Dot, and the way animals are paid for their “acting” in 2020s.

So for the sake of this exercise in taxing we’ll assume that they were convinced being paid $1 an hour for each of them was a really REALLY good deal because it was 4x the wage in the 30s.(during the great depression)

This next part was calculated with help from my friend allowing me to use his California pay stub. Thank you Mickael. <3

Toons are probably paid less because they "have less necessities" and get rigorously overworked because their bodies “don't work like humans”. If we assume that they've been tricked in this way and calculate this off a 4 week paycheck, while also saying that they're pulling 40-60 hour work weeks due to overwork, with no overtime pay, that puts their GROSS pay for a MONTH at around ($480 for 40 hours) ($720 for 60 hours). 

Taking out California and Federal withholding, and healthcare on through the studio all together at around 12%, net take home would be ($422.40 at 40 hours) ($633.60 at 60) Now let’s assume the Warners get the tower as free room and board. That includes rent, electricity and running water ONLY, so we still have to calculate their wifi and phone bills (since we know for a fact that it’s relevant in the reboot. For the state of California, I used Mint unlimited at $60 a month since all three of them have phones. ($64.35 after tax) Internet needing to be somewhere around 100mbps for all their device’s wifi in the Burbank area, the least expensive option with wiggle room for Wakko(the Gamer) would be Starry Internet ($32.18 after tax). Yakko would be able to get a (LIFE) LA Metro tap card for low income, which would also give him a certain amount of free bus rides per month,after that each metro ride is $1.75 one way, and each bus ride is $1 one way. Let’s give all three Warners together a Budget of $50. This leaves them at ($275.87 for 40 hours of work) ($487.07 at 60) Much, if not all remainder would go to food or clothes depending on your headcanons for that. It’s no wonder they can’t afford expensive picture frames! ---

I'm sure there was more stuff I could have linked back to like the amounts and how I got them, and if people want more info they're welcome to dm me, but I've been impatiently wanting to share my thoughts lol.

Back in march of last year, I first spoke to my friend @help-the-lesbian in DM's about the warner's monetary situation. As I made more friends, I roped more of them into listening to me and now it's kind of an in-joke, but I just like thinking about Yakko getting stressed out about taxes and doing them because he cares about his siblings and he needs to take care of their family.

1[Animaniacs "Temporary Insanity" 1993] 2[Rob Paulson, “Animaniacs in Concert”, 2023] 3[Animaniacs Comic #2, 1995] 4[Wakko Warner Wiki] 5[Department of Industrial Relations, state of California] 6[California state tax is x1.0725]

[randombush3]

Kicking and Screaming

florence pugh x footballer!reader

summary: your relationship is taking a hit from the release of Don’t Worry Darling

words: 4948

warnings: smut

notes: i tried to keep the football terms to a minimum so don’t be daunted by this. this was requested as well — no way i could have come up with this.

It’s all fucking bullshit.

No one seems to believe in your relationship. Or, rather, they’d like to believe in a different one.

She’s convinced you they’re not true. They aren’t true, because you were with her while she filmed, and on FaceTime when bubbles did not permit physical contact. Like, what the actual fuck? It’s insulting to even think about trying to pretend she slept with him.

Everyone can tell that you’re on edge the moment you walk onto the bus. Maybe you’re frustrated because you’ve avoided your girlfriend for a solid week, save for the occasional small talk that occurs when you catch each other in the same room of your house, maybe it’s because you had to fight your way past the paparazzi at your front door.

Attempting to diffuse their teammate, you are met with a series of ‘hi’s that fizzle out the moment you shove your stuff in the hold above an empty row and sit down on your own. This is a player who does not want to be spoken to. You hear a mumble “relationship problems” and scowl, closing your eyes and choosing to block out the entire world for three and a half hours.

When Leah begins to play her pregame hype music (awful, awful music that you’d hate even in the best of moods), they beg you to join in with the singing, making a game of who can possibly get a smile out of you. You groan loudly, covering your face with your hands, but when Jonas looks at you sternly, you give in and face them all. “You get one song,” you announce, “and if it’s shit, I’m not singing.” There’s a scramble for the phone connected to the speaker, and then some absurd song you chose for karaoke once plays.

They manage to get you to sing three, before the coaches coach and the bus stops. You step off and are quickly taken aside by Aaron. The assistant coach looks at you with concern pulling at his smile. The chatter of the team fades into the distance and he begins to talk.

He starts with a simple question: “how are you?”

“I’m fine.” He isn’t convinced. “No, really. I need to just play. I’ve got to play it out.”

“You could have played it out at training.”

“I need an audience.” You need to show everyone – remind them all – how great you are, with or without your girlfriend. No matter what they say about your personal life, you will make sure they cannot attack your playing. “I’m a professional.”

“It’s going to be a tough match, Y/n. They’re a good side, we’re matched almost evenly. No one needs a loose canon on the pitch.”

“I’m notoriously calm–”

“When your girlfriend isn’t in the centre of Hollywood’s latest scandal.” His remark is cutting. You may well have flinched. Aaron then softens, as if suddenly deciding he’s being too harsh. “I will tell Jonas that you will be focused throughout, but if I feel that it’s not working or you’re not playing well, I’m taking you off. We all go through relationship issues. It’s okay to need a moment.”

You’re about to protest, guns firing up and getting ready to blaze your way through a full ninety minute match, but Beattie grabs your arm and makes fun of you for being slow. “How can we start match prep without Saint Y/n?” she whines dramatically.

Aaron nods in dismissal. You follow her unnecessary tugging.

“She’s here!” Beth shouts over the noise. You glare at them, halfway between it being sincere and joking.

Surprisingly, you manage to chat and jostle and tease, partaking in the standard changing room banter. Every so often, your phone buzzes, its screen lighting up with texts and missed calls from Florence, annoyingly reminding you of the lock screen background (Flo and Billie, teeth bared). Some of your teammates notice the amount of notifications you are getting, but none are intrusive enough to assume anything other than social media or an overactive group chat.

Flo’s latest text reads:

Pick up the fucking phone.

How pleasant.

She did start quite civilly, attempting to make up after a particularly venomous row. You’d stormed out, and then she’d slept on the sofa until you came back. The arguing had resumed when she told you she had been unbelievably worried while you were cooling off, so you had slammed your bedroom door shut and drowned her out by pouring over old match footage to analyse your play. You both could be work-oriented if you wanted to. If that was how it was going to be.

Speaking of work oriented — the cheers in the stadium as both teams walk out of the tunnel are enough to pull your focus in onto the here and now, not some stupid and too-common argument.

Once you’ve warmed up and have been reminded of Aaron’s personal terms and conditions for tonight’s game, it’s Jonas’ team talk (stay calm, play your game, press hard defensively) and then kick off.

The whistle sounds and you are back in a situation you can control. It feels good, this feels good. Florence is but a niggle at the back of your mind as you push and shove and dribble and… Okay, yeah, you foul quite a bit.

You have a lot of pent up everything, and instead of taking it out on the ball itself, it does lead to quite a few incidents where you push the player too hard and they end up on the floor, but so what? The first goal is scored fifteen minutes in thanks to your turn over and cross. You’re playing great. Aggressively, sure, but great.

You think you have a great chance of winning the ball in the next tackle you go for. (In hindsight, you are completely lying to yourself.) Your legs go round and under, and she goes down awkwardly, crying out in a mix of shock and pain. You find that you’re pulled down too, small crescents pressed into your forearm when the player lets go of you.

“What the fuck was that?” hisses one of the Man United players, kneeling down to her teammate. You can feel your own team debating whether to crowd the scene or watch from afar.

You blank out the next five minutes, in which the player is helped off by a medic, the ref waves a yellow card in your face, and Jonas goes absolutely nuts from the sideline.

Katie is a dirty player. Not you.

“You okay?” a player from the other team asks, her face determined but eyes gentle. She extends her hand out to you, pulling you up.

Her words remind you that you are very much in the public eye. (And that you are also very much not okay.)

Aaron is emphatic about how disciplined you usually are at half time. In fact, half the team are scared to talk to you considering the uncharacteristic aggression shown on the pitch. When Mead approaches to ask if you’re alright, you turn around and pretend to be extremely interested in the wall.

Aaron tells you that you need to leave this shit off the pitch now. “Taking it out on everyone else doesn’t seem to be working,” he says, “because they’ve scored an equaliser and one of our best players looks like she’s about to beat the shit out of her own team. Take up fucking boxing at this rate!”

“I’m fine,” you insist through gritted teeth, setting your jaw as you prepare to go back on for the last ten minutes of the game. “Jonas thinks I’m fine.”

“He thinks you’re playing fine.”

“Are you my coach or my dad?” you snap, fully aware of the camera pointed at the pair of you. “I will deal with my shit in whichever way I choose. Currently, it might be beating the shit out of my assistant coach.”

He pauses, perplexed. You are a composed person. You are neutral, positive at times, yet he finds not an ounce of regret for your tone nor your language. All he can see as he looks in your eyes is pure, unbridled rage.

Aaron is not stupid. He knows how to win games, he knows how to make sure whatever a player brings onto the pitch is milked for every last drop of usefulness in order to garner a victory.

“I want a goal,” he says with a shrug. He points to your chest, “this fire in your heart… put it on the ball and kick hard.” You nod curtly. He smiles, proud of himself: you needed a target to focus your determination. “Okay, now go,” dismisses Aaron.

Jonas gives technical advice, asking you to score a goal more for the team than your own personal well-being, but that's the difference between coach and assistant coach.

When you step back out there, you feel a new hunger for one thing. You play selfishly, ruthlessly, and incredibly well. No one can seem to get the ball off you, so Man United’s focus shifts to keeping it two metres from you in every direction. Overtime will give them a moment to regroup and re-strategise, so that’s what they aim for.

A bad pass in their defence in the last minute of injury time costs them the ball. You pounce on it, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. Your own team presses down into the box to crowd the defence, leaving them overwhelmed and panicking, on their toes in preparation for your cross.

But your cross never comes.

The goalie is distracted, you realise. The commotion has stressed her out, cracked the icy hold her eyes had on the ball. She can’t see you position yourself towards her net. You think back to Aaron pointing at your heart, and gauge the distance between you and the goal.

You’re outside the box, but you have a chance.

You put your fire on the ball and kick hard.

It flies through the air swiftly, and the goalie can do nothing but dive too low down for it to not go in.

The whistle blows again, and you’re tackled by your team, whooping and cheering in your ear like there’s no tomorrow. You sink into that feeling of warmth and pride.

Everything feels fine again.

“Hey, L/n, they don’t want to talk to me anymore!” Beth calls you over from where she’s greeting fans. She went straight over to them once she shook hands with the other team. You haul yourself off the floor, patting the women you rolled off your body on the back with a mutter of ‘time to be famous’.

Half the pr stuff you’ve learnt is from Flo.

Little girls grin at you, looking up with admiration and stars in their eyes. They hold their dreams out to you, and you smile right back at them, signing everything that they ask you to, taking every picture possible.

“I think you’re my favourite,” declares a boy who’s shoved his way past everyone to get to the front. “You’re definitely my favourite.” He beams.

“Yeah?” You send him a wink, and then he jumps up to get a better look at you — he can’t really see over the barrier. You’re about to pick him up and bring him over the barrier to take a picture with him for his mum, when you notice a woman who hasn’t yet rushed out of the stands to beat the traffic.

She has short blonde hair and is tanned from summer.

The Cartier watch that you bought for her sits spitefully on her wrist.

Your mood sours.

Beth, who is standing beside you, seems to realise you’re no longer loving the attention, and watching you squirm under piercing green eyes isn’t her most favourite thing to do. She nudges you with her shoulder; approval that it’s okay to go back to the changing room.

“Bye!” you say to the crowd, waving at them all before turning around and focusing entirely on not crying or killing somebody.

An interviewer corners you somewhat, forcing you to answer a few questions. “This was a new side of you that we got to see today,” she begins, “is this a new style of play or a one-off?”

You make sure to have the blank, neutral expression before answering. “We’ll see.” She flashes you a smile and gives you a thumbs up. You’re free to continue marching back to the changing room.

They’ll likely be empty seeing as everyone is still on the pitch.

The door slams behind you as you groan in frustration. It echoes through the room, eerily barren of post-win cheer.

Why the fuck was she here? Couldn’t she let you have your space? In fact, couldn’t she just fuck off forever so that you never have to talk about anything?

You’re so caught up in sulking that you don’t notice the door open and shut and another person slip in.

“A yellow card, huh?” Your eyes fixate on the blonde, glaring. “It was a good game.”

“Why are you here?” you fire back, not wanting to hear her praise you because you might give in and buckle your knees and go crawling back to her with tears in your eyes.

“To watch you play,” she answers calmly.

You clench your fists, squeezing pleasantry out of yourself. “So now you care? Now you pay attention to me?” After all of this, she thinks she can show up once and make everything fine again. Bullshit.

“Don’t act like I’m the one running out of every room you walk into!”

Unbelievable.

“I do not run,” you scoff. “Wouldn’t you rather be on the phone to your boyfriend?”

“Wow, so mature.”

“At least I’m not a cheating liar!” you shout, taking the both of you by surprise. She rolls her shoulders back: okay, if this is how it’s going to be. “I’m not sleeping with anyone else, am I? All I’m doing is avoiding you.”

“So you admit you’re avoiding me!”

“Yeah, and you fucking show up at my game, acting as if you have every right to corner me and tell me to forgive you,” you spit, and she recoils at the thought. “Well I’m not going to forgive you.”

“There’s nothing to forgive me for,” she huffs, throwing her arms up in the air in frustration. “It’s not my fault that the media can’t keep out of my business.”

“I know they’re invasive.” It’s not her fault that they hound her. “But I had to find out from a fucking article, not from my girlfriend.”

“There was nothing to fucking find out!” she snaps, stepping closer to you. You feel the heat of her breath cloud your space, your body fighting with everything it has to not be drawn into her. She’s so close that you can see every detail of her tired face.

You tilt your chin up nonchalantly. “Tell that to the tabloids,” you mutter, but she can hear you easily from her position. “Oh, wait… You’re not going to fucking say anything.”

What comes next is a low blow, but people aren’t their best selves in heated arguments. “I thought you were braver than that, Flo.”

She shakes with anger, taking another step closer. “How have you convinced yourself that you’re supportive?” Her voice stays steady even if her body is not. “You tell me I’m a lying, cheating coward but—”

The door, once again, thuds shut.

“I told you we shouldn’t go in!”

Flo jumps backwards, creating distance for you to both stand awkwardly in front of Beth Mead and Vivianne Miedema.

Beth nudges her girlfriend, who quickly wipes the vindictive smile off her face.

“Everything okay?” Beth looks at you with the same concerned expression she’s been using the whole day. “Hi, Flo. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Neither did I,” you grumble.

“It was a last minute decision.” Her reason is left unsaid, thankfully, but it’s safe to say three out of four people in the room know why — Miedema can be a little slow when being updated with whose side she and Beth are on in this ongoing fight.

“Sounded like a great argument,” says Vivianne, earning herself a harder nudge. “Can we shower and change before you carry on? The rest of the team will be coming through soon.”

You want to laugh but Flo’s glare stops you. Even if everything is falling to pieces, you seem to have a connection. She nods twice and you understand. When you get back, she will be waiting and you will be continuing this conversation in private.

She leaves, walking out in a way that makes you shudder ever so slightly (you chalk it down to the breeze the door creates, not the sight of her).

“So… did you call her a lying, cheating coward?” Beth asks as she sits on the bench you’re standing by, swinging her legs like a schoolgirl.

“Are you going to pretend you didn’t hear everything?”

She pauses for a moment, and then concedes. “Okay, yeah, we were outside for a good portion of it, but you guys were really loud. And Viv wanted to listen!”

Your other teammate shakes her head in protest. “Big, fat lie. I was going to have a chat with Katie while you guys shouted at each other.”

“No, if we hadn’t interrupted they so would have fucked,” Beth thinks aloud.

You snort. “Ha! As if—”

Vivianne turns to her girlfriend as if she actually has a point. “I’m surprised they were fully clothed when we walked in.”

- - -

She’s waiting for you in the kitchen when you get back.

You were held back by Jonas for five minutes when he wanted to congratulate you on your playing and tell you he likes the more aggressive side of you, but other than that, you’re true to your ETA. That text was the first you’d sent her in at least a week.

There are two plates on the counter, and quickly they are full of pasta bolognese. The meat is good protein.

“I thought we could eat and talk.”

You say nothing, but grab a fork for the both of you. You don’t sit down for fear of habitually sitting opposite her at the table. If you look at her too long, you’ll forgive her straight away.

After a few mouthfuls of the admittedly delicious food, you gesture with your fork. “Go on. Talk.” Maybe you should really hear her out.

She sighs. “When we first started dating, we talked about my sex scenes. I told you that they’re awkward to film and not at all romantic, and that I’ve never been attracted to any man I’ve had to pretend to be attracted to. It’s off-putting, really, and I thought you understood that.” She waits for your defensive interjection but you stay quiet. “Olivia is marketing this movie in a very horrible way — a way I had no say in. Reducing everything down to sex is harmful in itself, but I will not let it be any more harmful to this relationship than the publicity has already been.

“What you said about me not being brave, it’s true. I didn’t want to prolong a bad situation, but it’s hurting us and I hate that.”

She moves to take your plate to the sink, but your legs bring you with her. When she turns back around, plate no longer in hand, your arms are on either side of her body, pinning her underneath you against the counter.

“So you’re doing an interview,” you finish for her, speaking in a low voice. You don’t break eye contact. “Are you going to tell them that no one fucks you as well as I do?”

Flo blushes, crossing her legs. Her reaction doesn’t go unnoticed.

You lean down slowly, your lips hovering over her ear. “Who’s better, Florence? Me or him?”

Her shoulders tense, skin flushing beneath the worn material of an old concert t-shirt from a decade ago. She wears nothing else, apart from underwear.

Your eyes hold her gaze, daring her to look away. She shifts uncomfortably under your stare, unable to ignore the aching between her legs that comes with how close you are to her. She is not about to kiss you.

No, she’s angry that you would ever believe a stupid article over her. Or was it that you…

Does it matter? What were you even arguing about?

She can’t seem to remember anymore.

“Me… or him?” you repeat. The movement of your lips draws her eyes to them, something that you catch immediately.

“You’re jealous,” she replies, letters tumbling out onto one another as she forgets how to speak. You’ve dropped your hands to her waist. Your grip tightens as she smiles proudly at her clunky declaration. “You’re jealous of him.” Her eyes shut for a moment when you step closer, pressing her between you and the counter.

“You’re turned on.” Your smirk is enough to make her want to kiss you. Solely for the purpose of wiping it off your face, of course.

“I’m so turned on.”

You chuckle quietly at her admission. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Her chest presses against you and you almost forgo holding out on her. “Maybe I’ll have to make a call,” she whispers.

You smooth your palms down her curves, cupping her arse and pushing into her until your knuckles hit the counter. “Really?” Your lips hover just above hers, but she can’t lift up to reach them because you’re holding her down. “Not gonna kiss me?”

She shrugs. “Make me.”

You barely have to move for her lips to touch yours, but once they do it feels like you can’t get close enough. Her hands bunch the fabric of your hoodie, pulling it up and down as if she’s trying to get you out of it but can’t think of how to do so. You lift her up, swiping away the dishes from the counter without hesitation, lips never leaving her body. She moans loudly, unrestrained, as you reach your hand up her shirt, kneading at her breasts.

It doesn’t take long for her clothes to come off.

Blinded by pleasure, she leans back, almost slumping against the wall before knocking against a dirty glass and spilling water. She jumps at the noise, but you’re locked in with the focus you usually reserve for games. You pull her into you, arms wrapped around her thighs, and walk her back to the table. It’s lower, meaning you tower over her. She gasps at the coldness of the wood against her bare skin.

With a wild look in your eyes, you sink to your knees, hands running up her legs before reaching the tops of her thighs. She pants as she watches you intently, opening her legs as you guide her to.

You stop for a moment, taking a second to glance up at her. Florence is almost sprawled out on the table, sitting partially upright in order to see what’s taking you so fucking long. She opens her mouth to gripe or make some snide comment to rile you up, but your tongue flicks her clit and suddenly her sole focus is pushing your head further between her legs.

Her fingers tangle their way through your hair, any hair bobble long gone, giving her enough sturdiness to buck her hips into your mouth. Legs locking around your neck, she throws her head back and gasps loudly. “Fuck, baby, that’s so good,” she says. Her voice slices its way through your focus. Your moan into her. “So good,” she repeats, and then chants over and over as your tongue dives inside her.

Your grip on her thighs tightens, nails pressing into the soft skin. She moans and grinds her hips down, telling you she needs it harder, faster. You nod, and the movement causes her to yank your head back up.

You make the most obscene noise she has ever heard.

“You like that?”

“Not now,” is your short reply. She frowns, but forgets all previous emotions when your tongue is back inside her and your thumb is rubbing her clit.

She doesn’t have to tell you she is going to come.

Her legs tighten and her thighs suffocate you, your hair becoming the only visible part of your head. The hand that isn’t pulling at your hair is clawing at the edge of the table, seeking something to hold onto before she floats away. You use your whole face; nose, mouth, any part that can touch her.

“Don’t…” But the sentence isn’t finished. She cries out, the sound piercing the silence and echoing through the house. “Oh, fuck.”

You feel a pressure building inside of you, the throbbing at your clit becoming incessant. You drop your free hand to your joggers, but your eyes squeeze shut before you even have to touch yourself. You moan into her, the vibrations shooting through her body and splitting her in half. She comes loudly, and you find that you come too.

When you stand, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, examining the mess made. What once was a plate now lies in broken shards on the floor.

“We need to clean this,” you mutter, more to yourself than her.

She seems to pounce on you. “Later. No one fucks me like you do.”

- - -

Both of you fall asleep very quickly after five more rounds of very jealousy-fueled sex. She eggs you on the whole time, meaning you are relentless in your assault on her entire body; a price she will pay in the morning.

You wake to your phone buzzing its way off the bedside table.

Flo’s asleep with a leg between yours, chest pressed against you, face buried into your neck. You don’t move, feeling for your phone with an extended arm as to not wake her up.

Leah’s calling.

You groan.

“Hi, Leah,” you greet, faux chirpiness failing to cover the evident exhaustion in your voice. You did nearly lose it last night.

“Hi. Where the fuck are you?” You glance around at your bedroom, tentatively answering with the truth. She does not sound happy. “It’s half past two. You were supposed to be at training an hour ago.”

“Oh.”

You were asleep.

“Yes, ‘oh’! Jonas is on everyone’s case, get you arse here.” She pauses, you can imagine her lifting her finger off the hang up button. “…Are you alright? You sound dead.”

“I just… used my voice lots last night.” She’ll assume you had a—

“Screaming match?”

“Yeah, you could call it that.”

You bite your lip, waiting for her response. “Oh, okay. Well hurry up. I’ll tell Jonas you had a late night.”

“Thank you,” you say calmly, pretending to care a lot more than you do. It’s hard to care about other things when there’s a naked woman on top of you. “Bye, Leah.”

“Bye.”

The covers rustle slightly. “Our neighbours must hate us,” Flo mumbles, voice muffled by your neck. You run your hand down her back, settling just above her bum.

“Sorry?”

She lifts her head up, hair stuck the side of her cheeks, sex-teased and knotted. “The neighbours. They must hate us.”

You shrug, “fuck the neighbours.”

“Ah, I bet they say ‘the neighbours fuck’ over there.” You laugh at her stupid joke, enjoying her lazy grin. “I think you’re going to make me lose my voice one of these days.”

You both sound pretty hoarse.

“I shouldn’t have avoided you.” She frowns. You press a kiss to the top of her head. “I was angry at everyone; angry about the things people were saying, angry about the way you wouldn’t say anything. It was so frustrating to be cast aside so quickly, seemingly not being an option or a factor in anything to do with your love life. I felt so insulted, and I felt like you weren’t standing up for me.”

She lets you talk.

“I’m sorry for not hearing you out sooner,” you whisper, pressing your forehead to hers. “I love you, but I was so hurt and loving you was making it worse.”

“I get it,” she replies carefully. “The media flips so quickly, always picking sides and making up sources. I’m sorry for not standing up for you.”

You realise it’s not her fault. She doesn’t really get to choose the management of things like this.

You smile. She nudges you. “A screaming match?”

Shit. Training.

“We did!”

“I’m pretty sure screaming matches involving orgasms are just… sex.”

“They’re not going to suspect a thing,” you say slyly. She rolls her eyes and moves off you, allowing you to get dressed.

You leave in the next ten minutes, calling her to say goodbye.

- - -

In the changing rooms at the end of a session you barely made it to, the girls change and shower like they normally do.

Beside you, however, is one very stunned Katie Mccabe. Her mouth agape, she begins to attract a curious few.

“What’s wrong with Katie?” Leah questions suspiciously, eyes following the direction everyone is pointing in.

You stand with a guilty expression. Your sports bra only covers some of the many, many hickeys littering your body. Beth smirks and tells you to turn around.

They gasp at the state of your back.

“That’s gotta be painful,” mutters Raffa, shaking her head. She smiles soon, though. It’s hard to not be proud of you.

“Some screaming match you had,” Leah huffs bitterly. “Can’t believe I explained your relationship issues to Jonas. Twenty minutes of my life I’ll never get back.”

tags: @pewpughpew @ridleypugh @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @xsophiesx @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz @wandasbb @karsonromanoff

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - eighty-four | meeting ONiiX

You were ready. You felt pretty ready. Yeah, you were ready.

Today was the day that ONiiX was coming in to meet with you and the rest of Crom3r, to talk about becoming trainees at Wonderland. You had prepared some stuff for Yujin, though you weren’t sure if you’d be able to give it to her and you obviously wouldn’t be teaching at all today.

You sat next to Maddox, your leg bouncing furiously as you went over your list of teaching songs over and over in your head: should you have taken some off? Would the amount scare her? She didn’t have to do them all at once. Maybe you should have made two lists, like an “easy” and “hard” or something. Maybe you should have broken it down more? Should you go back and revise the lesson plan again? Neither the list nor the lesson plan were in the folder you had, but you still worried.

You felt a hand on your knee and looked up. 

Maddox smiled. “There’s nothing to be worried about.”

“Joke’s on you, there’s everything to be worried about.” You widened your eyes at him.

He laughed softly.

“Are you teaching their guitarist?”

“Oh no, I’m still taking lessons so there’s no point in teaching someone to be mediocre.”

You pressed your lips together and flattened your expression.

“You look like a Muppet.”

You shook your head with a laugh.

“Listen, you’re a crazy good bassist, you’ll be a perfect teacher.”

You side-eyed him. “Yeah… the CEO said you and Joong mentioned that.”

He smiled. 

The door opened, and Hongjoong peeked his head in. “We’re moving down to one of the conference rooms; they all have their parents with them.”

You and Maddox nodded and stood.

As you walked into the conference room, Hongjoong saw the folder of stuff in your hand.

“What’s that?”

“Uh… pre-class stuff? I don’t know if she’d want it now.” You shrugged.

He nodded and smiled.

The three of you walked into the conference room where the group who wanted to become ONiiX, their parents, and their lawyer were gathered around the table. You introduced yourselves and, in turn, they all introduced themselves: Bibi, the singer, who looked like any disaffected 90s goth kid from a slasher movie; Theo, the guitarist, who had a kind of college slacker look; Soul, the drummer, who looked like someone shook the pages of Fruits Magazine and he fell out; and Yujin, your maybe-bass-student, who looked like a quintessential 80s punk. Quite the grouping of fashion statements, and yet all of their parents looked like normal, average, middle class korean parents. You tried to suppress a smile at the contrast.

“I’m glad you took the company’s advice and brought a lawyer to our meeting today. Are you meeting with the CEO afterwards?” Hongjoong asked.

The lawyer answered yes.

Hongjoong explained, in great detail, the album release cycle, the minimum and maximum of promotion periods (depending on how much they were comfortable with promoting, how well an album was doing, etc), tour periods, and other work the group would have to do were they to sign with Wonderland.

“... Debut won’t happen until the last member has turned 20, as Wonderland is one of the few companies that prefers not to debut minors.”

“Why not? The boys would have more time to make money before they have to enlist.” One of the parents said.

“There’s always the opportunity for pre-debut content, so they can make some money while they’re still training, but as far as the grueling schedules from the album cycle and music show circuit, it’s better that they’re able to finish their childhood without having such pressure. There is no real data to look to for this policy, but given the amount of physical and mental health problems many idols tend to have - and that many of them debuted young - it makes more sense to us, the company, to wait until they’re adults.”

The parents turned to each other and to their kids and spoke in hushed voices. 

“The person we talked to on the phone said that lessons were on the table, if our kids wanted them?”

“Absolutely. Wonderland prides itself in having talented artists who are well taken care of, and lessons would be a part of that.”

Soul raised his hand. “Do we pay for the lessons?”

Hongjoong shook his head. “The company pays for them, they’re an investment in your future.”

“Are they part of the debt we start with when we’re debuted?” Bibi asked.

Hongjoong shook his head again. “Wonderland doesn’t debut people with debt. Your betterment is an investment in the company’s future, and you are not personally responsible for it.”

The teens straightened up in their seats and looked at each other. It seemed that, despite knowing enough about Wonderland to send in a demo, they didn’t know one of the company’s most popular facts: they were one of the companies whose idols weren’t on the hook for all the lessons the company made them take before debut.

“But we’re a band,” Yujin said, “Wonderland only has idol groups, are you sure you can even teach us to play better?”

Hongjoong looked at you for a moment and turned back to her. “Well… for Bibi, we have plenty of vocal teachers on staff already, it’s more of a matter of which ones can teach the techniques you want. For Theo and Soul, we’re in the process of signing permanent guitar and drums teachers. And Yujin, your bass teacher is right here.” He gestured to you.

You waved.

“You brought my teacher?” She asked incredulously.

He laughed. “T/n is our newest producer, though she started off auditioning as a studio bassist.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked you up and down.

“Do you not think she can teach you?” Maddox asked.

“She looks like she’s my age. And I don’t know how much a producer would know about bass.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, trying to discern how offended you felt. You couldn’t tell if you were annoyed or flattered that she thought you looked so young--

“Get your bass.”

You turned.

“Get your bass.” Hongjoong said again.

You questioned him silently and he nodded.

“Be right back,” you said, as you stood and left the room.

A few minutes later, you came back with your bass and a small amp, and plugged them in.

“What are you going to play?” Maddox asked.

“Come On My Selector by Squarepusher.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

You smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you going to play it with a track?” Hongjoong asked.

You remembered that the song - despite having almost no words - had a swear in it, and figured it would probably not endear the company to the parents if they heard it.

“Nah, just the bassline is fine.”

You started playing. It was a drum and bass song, so it was a little awkward without the drum part, but you improvised the percussion as best as you could. Soul’s face lit up in realization, and he started drumming on the table with his fingers in excited accompaniment. The bassline itself was short, but even so, it was filled with slaps and pops that were much faster than other songs normally had; quarter notes in a song that was already 190 BPM. You didn’t look up as you played, concentrating; you hadn’t played it in a while and were trying not to fuck up. You were a little surprised to hear Soul keeping up with you, changing the beat signature to match the changes in the song, and even doing sound effects with his mouth to mimic the electronic noises he couldn’t drum. If you had the brainspace to think, you would have laughed.

You came to the end third of the song, where the most interesting part of the bassline was and prayed that Soul didn’t swear. You paused for the drop the words were in. He didn’t. You thanked him internally for not saying it and played the two of you played the rest of the song in drum and bass peace until it ended and you let the last note ring in electronic fuzziness.

Bibi and Theo looked genuinely impressed and started clapping, Soul stood and whooped as he clapped and his dad pulled on the hem of his shirt to make him sit back down, Yujin looked somewhere between impressed and confused before clearing her throat and flattening her expression.

You hoped you hadn’t hurt her pride.

“Brainswap successful!” Soul laughed.

You pointed at him with a smile; he had seen the music video. You unplugged everything and sat them out of the way next to the wall. As you sat back in your seat, you saw Yujin looking at your bass out of the corner of her eye. You smiled at her, she noticed you looking and looked away.

“I guess you’re pretty good.”

Before you could respond, Maddox asked: “Good enough to teach you?” Holding his hands around your face like you were the prize on a gameshow. 

You swatted at his hands.

“Yeah.” Yujin said and stared at the table.

Fuck. You shouldn’t have shown off like that. She hated you.

The rest of the meeting was very much a meeting, and to your surprise, Yujin pushed for signing with Wonderland.

“Alright,” Hongjoong said. “Maddox will take you over to HR where you’ll get your emails and get put in the pay system and everything, and the next time we’ll see you, you’ll all be students.” He smiled.

The teens and their parents and lawyer all thanked him and talked amongst themselves as they left the room.

“Hey.”

You turned. It was Yujin.

She spoke without looking at you. “Um, so… that was pretty cool. The way you played.”

You smiled. “Thanks.”

“Can you really teach me to play like that?”

“I can try.”

She nodded.

“Here, I brought this for you.” You handed her the folder.

“What is it?”

“Just some stuff to assess what you already know so we can start at the level you’re comfortable at. Like a self-test.”

She nodded.

“Are you nervous?”

She looked up at you. “Ah-- yeah.”

You smiled. “Don’t be.”

She looked at you for a moment and nodded. “Okay.”

“I’ll email the work email you’ll get and we’ll figure out when we’ll have lessons, okay?”

She nodded. “I don’t do after school shit, so,” she shrugged, “I can come in any day of the week.” 

You chuckled. “That makes it a lot easier.”

“Honey, we were about to leave without you.” Her mom said as she came back in.

“Oh-- sorry.” She turned to you and bowed. “Please take care of me, teacher.”

“You’re in good hands,” Hongjoong said as he walked over. “You should both catch up with the group.”

Yujin and her mom nodded and ran to catch up with everyone else.

“I have to go talk to IT about a soundboard I got that’s not working right.” Maddox said. “Meet you back at the studio?”

“Sure thing,” Hongjoong said. You nodded.

He left.

You went to collect your bass and amp.

“I’ll carry that,” Hongjoong said as he picked up the amp before you could.

“I can carry it back.”

He shook his head. “I’m the one who told you to get it, so it’s only fair.”

You laughed and shouldered your bass.

The two of you walked down the hall back to the studio.

“Are you still nervous?” He asked.

“About teaching?”

“Mhm.”

“Not really. Or, not as much as before.”

He nodded.

“When I saw her expression after I was done playing, I thought I scared her away.”

He laughed. “You almost pulled a Me by accident.”

“Ha, at least we can laugh about it now.”

The two of you fake-laughed at each other before real-laughing.

“I thought I fucked up so hard.”

“You picked a wild song to show off with.”

You laughed again. “I wanted to show her what she could possibly hope to play, you know? The way I felt about the bass when I first heard wild basslines.”

“Something to aspire to.”

“Yeah.”

“Hopefully she felt the same way.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

He nodded and opened the studio door for you. “Maybe she’s a little nervous.”

“Yeah, hopefully that’s just it and I didn’t make her hate me.” You walked through and sat your bass down, and took the amp from him and plugged it into the wall. 

“You know…”

You looked up from where you were crouched on the floor.

“That bassline gave me an idea, could you play it again?”

You laughed at him for a second and plugged your bass in.

“Well,” you said as you opened the door to find Yunho standing there with a delivery bag filled with several boxes of dumplings. “If it isn’t the man with the mandu?”

He held up the bag. “Mandu Man is here to save the day. Or-- night.”

You laughed and gestured for him to come in. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

“Wow,” he said, looking around at the many basses, guitars, mandolins, and other members of the guitar family you had on the floor and hanging from the walls. 

Each one painfully scrimped and saved for-- at least the ones from before you got your Wonderland job were. The couple new ones were much easier labors.

“You have a lot of instruments.”

“Did you think that I wouldn’t?”

“Umm… no, it probably would be weirder if you didn’t.” He chuckled and put the boxes of dumplings on the table.

“That’s a lot.”

“I got you a plethora of dumplings. And I’m hungry too, so…”

“You always did eat a lot.”

He smiled. “Mhm.”

You got the plates and utensils. 

“So how was work?” He asked.

“You really are domestic.”

He laughed. “I mean, I used to ask you how classes were all the time when we were younger.”

You laughed. “Then you’ve always been domestic.”

“Hey, my mom raised a good boy.”

You laughed again as you set everything on the table. “It was good. That kid I’m going to teach? Her band and their parents came in and Hongjoong went over what would be expected of them if they signed.”

“Oh, really? Did they end up signing?” He got to work opening the dumpling boxes so you could see what he got.

“Yep. They decided to sign right there and went to HR afterwards to get everything set up.”

“Wow, he must have really sold them on it.”

“Hardly,” you laughed. “He was honest about how much work it would be. But if they wanted to be musical artists, there was no better label to sign with. You know… in terms of treating their artists well.”

“Mhm.”

“Then I guess this is a celebratory dinner of dumplings.” “So many dumplings.” You laughed.

“That’s a lot to celebrate! There’ll be a new band in a bit, and you’ll have your first student even sooner-- she is your first student, right?”

“Yeah. Wow, that feels so weird to have a student.”

“Why?”

“I never even thought about it, you know? Not after… you know… being one.”

He looked at you, his face wrought with concern.

Unlike CEO Ji, Yunho knew exactly what you were talking about. The weekdays he’d call you and you’d rant over the phone. The weekends where the pressure your violin teacher put you under had accumulated so much that that you’d spend the first hour of seeing him crying on his shoulder or in his arms when you just wanted to hang out and play games or do something fun. He never made fun of you or judged you for a single second of it all, being your sole place of safety in a toxic and abusive childhood. Sometimes you couldn’t understand why he understood you so well; he had never been judged or tormented by the adults around him - everyone loved Jeong Yunho, that smiley, golden retriever-like boy who helped everyone and cheered everyone up, everyone except your mom, that is - and somehow he was stuck with you as a best friend; a kid who was treated like a malignant tumor of a human being by the adults who were supposed to be protecting and nurturing her, but who was really a wreck who was being slowly ground down under her mother’s boot almost since the day she was born. And yet, despite his never experiencing what you had to go through, he was so empathetic and compassionate towards you and stood by you through all of it. What an emotional charity case you were back then.

You laughed softly to yourself.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. You hadn’t realized that your internal thoughts were starting to manifest outside of your head like that.

“Nothing. You didn’t tell me which one was which.”

He gave you the rundown on which box had what dumplings; one being discerned only after he ate one. 

“Mmm!” He said, mouth full. “That’s samgyeopsal.” 

“Ooo!” You took two and put them on your plate. As you reached for the dips, you saw him smiling at you.

“...Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shook his head but before he could answer, you said:

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

He chewed and swallowed. “Are you more excited now? To teach?”

You nodded slowly as you thought. “Yeah, I guess I am. Though um…”

He looked at you as he chewed a new dumpling.

“...She made me a little envious.”

“How?”

“I mean, I don’t know for sure, but like… she was playing an instrument she loved-- about to learn more about it, she made a band with her friends-- she had enough friends to make a band, she was about to sign that band with a label, her parents were supportive…” 

You took a dumpling and dipped it, turning it over to make sure it was covered before picking it back up. 

“I couldn’t help but feel this teeny tiny little gremlin in the back of my head like ‘she has everything you ever wanted at that age. You hate her.’ I only thought it for a second but I felt like such a bitch.” 

You popped the dumpling in your mouth and chewed.

Yunho nodded. “I can see feeling that way, but I don’t think it makes you a bitch.”

You nodded as you chewed.

“And you only thought it for a second, so as long as you don’t think it again and you don’t act on it, I think it was okay to have just a tiny bit of envy at… at…” he looked for the words.

You swallowed your food. “Seeing someone have the life I would have loved to have?”

He looked at you sadly for a moment and nodded.

You nodded too. “Ahh… I just felt like such an asshole for that one second though.”

He exhaled a laugh as he put some more dumplings on his plate.

“What?”

“It’s funny that feeling like that for one second makes you feel bad, when your mom didn’t feel bad at all for the many years she was trying to control your life. You two couldn’t be more different.”

You smiled. “Yeah, I guess. Instead of apples not falling far from trees, she made a mountain I could never hope to climb and I rolled right off.”

He laughed, almost choking on his food. 

“Are you okay?”

He nodded. He recovered, sipping his drink and looked at you for a few seconds.

“...What?”

He shook his head and put a dumpling on your plate. “I think… that you recognized that the feeling was envy and realized it was not okay to feel that way towards someone who is going to be your student means you’ve already dealt with it. I mean,” he gestured at the basses on the wall, “if she saw all this, don’t you think she’d turn completely green?”

You laughed loudly. “I guess you’re right. And there’s no point in getting mad at her when I’ve got what I wanted back then. Well,” you shrugged, “most of it.”

He looked back at you, confused. “What’s missing?”

“I really wanted to be in a band back then… but after being in a few since I moved here, maybe I like producing better.”

“Dreams can change over time.”

You nodded. “Yeah, they can.”

He put another dumpling on your plate and smiled.

  previous | main cast | masterlist | next

a/n: Do you think t/n fucked up with her potential work children? And how about Yunho bringing her food? 👀

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list! 🎵 Any comments, reblogs, or asks are appreciated! I love talking with you guys and seeing what you’re saying about the chapters, it keeps me going 🥰

@luvvvx • @iamthehotdemon • @hrts4hanniehae • @rachs-words • @stayatinykatsy • @anythingrelatingtojinyoung​

[accirax]

combining some of @sapphireroses282's asks into one post! (what they said is indented)

2nd greet from the same person but I guess with a slightly more positive ending/reply. (Almost feels like a take two haha. 😅) Also, oooh~ I wonder what they said to him at the end to get that response~? 😏😉

Alec, with Derek threatening him at gunpoint behind the camera: haha yeah i guess my life isn't totally over asker hahahaha

given that it's for the same person and Alec somewhat retcons what he said, i do wonder if it was genuinely a re-do of a greeting that someone wasn't happy with. either way, i wonder what happened for Alec to go from 7th most favorite to most favorite in the interrim.

makes sense that he used to be a librarian, though, given his title of The Librarian. that also means he was probably making a slightly above average salary for the UK, given some baseline research. though, if he's competing to be Riya's sugar daddy, he's still losing to Connor. (/j)

My two favourite Aiden greetings~ ^^ Viester's singing voice is ❤Godly❤ and Aiden was super cute in the 2nd one~! 😊

the Aiden singing greetings make me conceptually happy because i feel like Viester enjoys the chance to learn and perform new songs for everybody. you can hear the happiness in his voice... or he's just flexing his acting skills as well, lol.

and that staring contest cracked me up. i guess the asker really did only ask about Aiden's favorite color? funny, given how everyone else seems to be asking for like three answers minimum plus a song. speaking of alternate universes, though, Aiden has the same rationale behind his favorite color as an alternate universe version of Winnie the Pooh. not the canonical one, though.

That lucky little... H-huh!? 😳 Jealous?? Who's jealous? Not me-! Who- Who said I was jealous!?!? Ok jokes aside, I'm kinda confused on why his fav dish is grilled asparagus now when he said it was spaghetti bolognese or smth in another greeting... Ah well, whatever.

i wonder how Alec's ex-wife would react to knowing that so many people are trying to rizz this dude up in her absence. then again, he's popular on the "we love pathetic men" website, so if she's not into failwives, maybe she just thinks everyone's insane.

as for the food thing, i'm guessing they might not have wanted to double up on the exact same content in greetings? like, especially if they were sent in at around the same time, i could see them not wanting the second person to feel like they were ripped off for getting the exact same info that someone else already happened to ask a little bit earlier. perhaps Alec's favorite meal is spaghetti bolognese with a side of grilled asparagus.

Yep. This is it. This is the best one. No question. It's stuff like this that truly makes me thankful for the DC fandom! 😭❤ Why did that last meow sound so suave/flirty too?!?! 😂🙈 (I'd be surprised if Raitix didn't have to do multiple takes of this because he kept bursting out laughing during it. Sounded like he was close to it tho) I'd say it was definitely worth the $80~! 😁

y'know, if they were going to go this far, they should've added cat ears as a costume as well. (/j)

Oh hey, I've just seen some art you've done for DC and stuff, do you take (free) requests?

i've been looking at setting up a ko-fi recently, so hopefully i'll have an option for paid commissions open soon!

[jjungkookislife]

Wrong Address ││ Part Three: Lemme in

pairing: neighbor!seokjin x f. reader

side pairing: vmin, namgiseok

genre: neighbors to lovers, fluff, crack, 18+

summary: Seokjin thought himself a good neighbor. He kept his noise level to a minimum, picked up your packages when you were out of town, kept his nose in his own business, and waved at you whenever he saw you until the two of you eventually became close friends, then best friends. Whenever you go out of town, Seokjin collects your mail and sorts your packages, those that belong to you and those that belong to Taehyung's extensive collection of oddities.

wc: 1k

warnings: mention of a threesome, food mention, jealousy, a proposition to join a throuple?

date: May 21, 2024

As promised, Jungkook lets you into the building. 

The lobby is huge! Floor-to-ceiling glass walls surround you, and a path to the left takes you down to the basement where all the awards are kept. 

Jungkook leads you to the security guard behind a podium. He gives the man your name and a visitor pass is handed to you. Once your ID and photo are taken, you sign a form to get a permanent pass on your next visit. 

“Jungkook, I don’t think that’s necessary,” you insist as he leads you toward the elevators. His thumbprint calls the elevator and Jungkook allows you inside first. 

“Eh, might as well. Jimin, Tae, Jin, and I are here often anyway,” Jungkook shrugs. “Hoseok, Yoon, and Joon won’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” You ask as Jungkook shuts the elevator with his thumbprint. The doors close and he hits the fifth floor. 

“It’s no big deal,” Jungkook assures you. “Next time we’ll head to the office and get your fingerprint in the system so you can come and go.”

“Have you decided where we’re heading for dinner?” Taehyung asks as the elevator opens and the rest of your friends stand before you. 

“Guys, this is my friend,” Jungkook points to you as he says your name. “She’s also Seokjin’s neighbor and Jimin’s photographer for Burn!”

“We’ve heard so much about you,” Hoseok grins as he shakes your hand before his boyfriends do. Everyone gets into the elevator and Jimin wraps his arm around your shoulders. 

“It gets rowdy when we’re all together,” he explains as the men’s voices grow louder as they bicker playfully about where to eat and fight over who pays. 

An hour later, the eight of you sit in a restaurant's private room. Laughter fills the space as Seokjin keeps piling food on your plate. He laughs at a joke Jungkook makes, and you smile when his gaze meets yours. His face is red, and his ears burn as he smiles back. 

Jimin exchanges a look with Jungkook but remains silent as the conversation around them continues. 

“Soooo,” Jungkook smirks as he says your name in a sing-song way. “Didn’t you mention something about Yoongi being hot?”

You glare at Jungkook, huffing as Jimin and Taehyung giggle. 

Everyone has gone silent and Seokjin’s eyes widen as he looks at you. 

“That was before I knew you all were a couple,” you look at Hoseok and Namjoon, ignoring the heat that rises to your cheeks. “Sorry.”

Hoseok grins, waving his hand. “No need to be sorry. We’re open.”

“So you can join us if you’d like,” Namjoon smiles, his dimples nearly make you swoon. 

“Yeah, you’re more than welcome to join,” Yoongi grins. His smile is cocky but it makes your cheeks burn hotter. 

Oh, you wish Jungkook had kept his big mouth shut!

“I’m monogamous,” you respond with a sheepish smile. “But I’ll keep you guys in mind if that changes.”

“Please do,” Yoongi smirks. He maintains eye contact with you as he licks his lips before looking you up and down. He takes a sip of his drink, and soon conversation picks up again. 

Jimin smiles devilishly at you when your eyes meet his a moment later. You roll your eyes at him before turning back to your plate. 

“Don’t worry about them too much,” Seokjin whispers, his hand gently resting on top of yours. “They love to tease but they’re great friends.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” you admit as you look at Seokjin. He nods before he excuses the two of you from the dinner table.

Seokjin leads you to the shop next door and you’re grateful you can have some quiet. 

“Want to split a cookie with me? They’re huge!” You giggle when you approach Seokjin as he looks at the display case. 

“Sure!” You agree as he asks for one cookie and pays for it. The two of you head back outside to sit on the bench in front of the shop. 

Seokjin breaks a piece off of the cookie and raises it. You lean forward and take the piece.

Seokjin’s eyes widen. He hadn’t meant to feed you but he keeps quiet as he takes his piece. 

Slowly, the two of you eat the cookie between Seokjin telling jokes. 

By the time your friends join you, the two of you are laughing on the bench, nearly falling on top of each other. 

Jungkook and Jimin exchange a look before they turn to the throuple behind them. “Let’s go.”

“We need to get back to the studio,” Hoseok says apologetically.

“And we need to go grocery shopping,” Jimin fibs.

“Shop at Kim City, where you’re like family,” Taehyung and Seokjin chirp on reflex.

There’s a brief pause before the friend group bursts out laughing at their expense. 

Seokjin’s cheeks burn scarlet. He covers his face with his hands and groans. 

You giggle from beside him, placing your hand on his to gently remove them from his face. 

“That was adorable,” you coo, and Seokjin curses as he blushes. 

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride home,” Seokjin clears his throat as he rises from the bench. 

You thank him as you all walk back to the studio with everyone. You say your goodbyes as you follow Jin to his car. 

“I had fun today,” you tell him earnestly. 

“I’m glad,” Seokjin said as he started the car. 

You connect your phone to his stereo and put on your shared playlist. Seokjin taps the steering wheel as he waits for a car to pass before he reverses. 

“Soooo,” Seokjin grins mischievously. “You and Yoongi, huh?”

Your eyes widen and you gasp.  “Nope! Absolutely not! We are not going there!”

Your laughter fills the car and Seokjin cackles as he sees you cover your face with your hands, embarrassed.

Seokjin doesn’t tease you any further, and when you arrive at your duplex, he walks you to your front door.

“I’m glad you joined us for dinner,” He said earnestly. 

“It was fun,” you nod as you hug him tightly before waving one last time. Seokjin waits until you’re safe inside your apartment before he walks off your porch and goes to his apartment. The smile on his face doesn’t wane for the rest of the evening. He’s sure he sleeps with a smile on his face.

<< previous // next >>

[bisexualhobi]

all jokes and hating for fun aside i do think it's commendable how fucking artificial and transparent queencard is as a comeback. it's the bts butter of girl groups. it's mass produced plastic. it doesn't even sound like a real song it's exactly what you would expect an AI to spit out if you asked it to make a generic viral chasing tiktok song. everything from its blatant tomboy mimicry – trying so hard to emulate its success because it was the first time gidle genuinely broke through the mainstream – to its point dance – which is the most non effort easy to replicate for dance challenges choreo hoping it inflates its numbers because tiktok is the only metric that matters for music anymore – to its absolutely mind numbing lyrics which include a chorus that is literally three words repeated on a loop – taking the listener hostage to force an earworm that simply doesn't occur organically.

this song is a caricature not only of gidle (who in spite of everything i do genuinely believe have good music, they just haven't made it in a long time) but of the whole kpop industry as it stands today. it's the embodiment of what people who think they're too good for kpop and write off as manufactured soulless music performed by state sanctioned puppets think all of kpop is. it's honestly astounding how the song is clearly trying so hard to hit certain marks and yet it falls abysmally flat – even to the group's fans who have done nothing but defend it day and night often arguing it's tongue in cheek and done ironically and gidle are in on the joke which... does absolutely nothing to make it better. making bad music to criticize bad music isn't exactly revolutionary, specially when it's done to achieve commercial success and top the charts by putting in the bare minimum amount of effort while exploiting every gimmick in the repertoire.

[writebackatya]

Was tagged by @justaboot in a post with a lot of questions, let's do this!

how many fics do you have on ao3?

14

what's your total ao3 word count?

159,641 words. but let's be real, a good chunk of them are song lyrics.

what fandoms do you write for?

DuckTales (2017)

what are your top five fics by kudos?

Indi-Quack!

Rainbow Connections

Home for the Holidays!

Moon with a View!

Let's All Go to the Movies!

do you respond to comments? why or why not?

For the most part, yes. I try my best to get back to people's comments, especially if they have questions. But sometimes I just don't have the energy when I wish I did

what's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'd say the ending to F.O.W.L. Play! from Indi-Quack! might be the angstiest. Nothing like ending a story where you go through the morning routine of one FOWL employee and finding out she keeps her sanity by getting high with another underpaid employee who works her ass off a minimum wage and is also not happy where she is in life

what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

hard to choose since I almost always go for the happy ending route. I think any of the stories for Home for the Holidays! could be the answer to this one cause those stories are nothing but holiday and winter fluff.

do you get hate on your fics?

it happens but not often. the first time I ever got hate was from a Della hater troll and they seem to be the only one who leaves hate on my fics

do you write smut?

no, but I've thought about it before. I don't mind sex in a story, but I don't know if I'm the right person to write that kind of stuff in a story. Honestly, the only reason why I wanna write smut is because I've plenty of jokes that I think are funny that would only work in a smut story

do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've ever written?

kinda??? would you consider having characters from various Duck media that never appeared in DuckTales 2017 crossover stuff? Heck I've got a couple of Della Duck stories in the works where she interacts with Mickey and Friends and I don't know if that should be considered a crossover

have you ever had a fic stolen?

no. thanks guys!

have you ever had a fic translated?

no, but that'd be neat!

have you ever cowritten a fic before?

no, but that is something I wouldn't mind doing some day

what's your all time favorite ship?

Of all time!? I don’t know. I love love

what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oh so many: An Act of Murder!, Back in the Game!, F.O.W.L. Play!, The Iron Duck of Steel: The Gizmoduck Movie, Part I!, The Spear of Selene, and Thanks for the Memories!. I've just been working on these for so long that it feels like I'll never finish any of them

what are your writing strengths?

when I'm in the mood to write I can really write, I like to think my dialogue is interesting, characterization, and I'd say my rapid fire humor

what are your writing weaknesses?

I'm a terrible planner, I don't write stuff down, I keep stuff in my head like it's the best storage place, I underestimate how big some stuff will be, I don't allow myself to just write

thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've mainly used Google Translate for other languages such as Jose and Panchito's dialogue in The Three Cabablleros (and Della)!. But for Let's All Go to the Movies! I got my buddy @tokuvivor to translate a conversation between Fenton and Gosalyn. Honestly, one of my favorite parts of that story and I think tokuvivor translating it himself adds to the joke. Both Lin-Manuel Miranda and Stephanie Beatriz both know Spanish, so having someone who can help me translate my dialogue so that it can sound natural and be a bonus to bilingual speakers just makes me happy beyond comprehension

I will say I did use Google Translate for that story, but for English! So for the Fight Fighters game I wanted to get that badly translated English feel for the dialogue so for pretty much every dialogue in the game was translated to Japanese and then back to English. Except the line "Now I will kill you until you die from it!", that comes from the movie Hot Shots! Part Deux

first fandom you wrote for?

...Sonic. it was a phase, i have no strong opinions about that blue hedgehog these days I mean I guess his games are...fine? The cast of characters are...pretty cool, I like Tails I guess.

favorite fic you've ever written?

hard to say, but I think I'd put Indi-Quack!, Rainbow Connections, Let's All go to the Movies! in the top spot

I choose to tag: @tokuvivor, @imjustusingthistolikeartists, if they choose to answer these questions

[verysmolnerd]

Double-shift Drowsiness

Drabble: You're ten minutes from closing and your former professor comes in asking for directions.

I think it’s blatantly obvious that I don’t like working minimum-wage jobs. Hell, my very first fic posted on the internet was because I was treated like shit at a retail store. Now, it’s a little better but that doesn’t mean I’m still not getting the butt end of a stick. This be a vent drable… my bad. 

Cw: Swearing

God fucking dammit. 

You’re here again, for another summer, to take a ludicrous amount of bullshit from your coworkers just to shell in a few more dollars towards your college tuition. 

Normally, the shifts are bearable and you can come home fine, but when you’re there all day sunrise to sunset, it isn’t ideal coming home with so much grease on you. When you shower, you don’t even feel the water on you for a minute because of how much grease had gotten in your skin. 

As for the coworkers part, it’s mainly just one blonde bitch in particular. Specifically, a carhop that’s more entitled than the angry customers here and has the audacity to be a douche to anybody and everybody. When she speaks it always sounds like she cops some sort of attitude when she comes back into the kitchen. 

The only time -as of recently- when she isn’t acting like a punchable brat, is when the general manager of the kitchen staff is around. You had pointed out to them that she was only doing this to be in their good graces, and they agreed; explaining to you that they’ve already talked with her numerous times but she still refuses to listen. You could only hope that one day she’ll get the boot like someone that everyone else in the kitchen even refuses to talk about. 

It always feels like when one problem from the kitchen gets extinguished, three more pop up. With whom that shall not be named is gone, all the kitchen staff are comfortable with talking with each other and making jokes without someone coming in to ruin the mood or harass you. Now, the problem is the one carhop acting like the next cockroach of the damn place and new hires refusing to do work. May you be reminded that you’re only here for the summer and ONLY HERE TO MAKE MONEY FOR THE UPCOMING SCHOOL YEAR.

…

Why do you care so much? It’s just who you are, sadly. 

Now you’re here, still at the restaurant ten minutes to close. You were calmly wiping down the countertops while the general manager had some nostalgic slow songs from the 2000s playing on a Bluetooth speaker that somehow is still working after months of straight abuse and constant use. 

Your other coworkers in the kitchen -you guys just call each other comrades at this point with how tight you are with all the workers that have those strong skills back here- were sweeping and restocking the fridges for the deep fryer or grill. It’s peaceful, well, as peaceful as a food service kitchen could be. 

Everyone was just as tired as you were because it was really late and a long day for those who didn’t work a double shift like you. You needed the hours, what else could you say? Unfortunately, the amount of tiring work doesn’t dawn on you until you’re working over forty hours a week. 

You could see the silhouette of two cars pull in from the packing window, and you sighed. Late stragglers. Somehow, the most desperate people to get to a cheap chain restaurant are also the people who order half of the menu, it infuriates you to no end. 

One car pulled right up in the spot in front go the building, and the other pulled in at a farther spot. You close your eyes and exhale, this is a common thing to happen so you’re not surprised. You are, however, annoyed that everyone in the building is bitching about it. 

What you weren’t expecting, was the person who parked so close to the building to come inside. It’s not like you truly cared anyway, you were just upfront to refill your drink; you haven’t done so in hours and you were beyond parched. 

Your back was to the counter as you waited for the machine to finish pouring your drink, not expecting your name to be called. You turn around, thinking it’s some sort of coworker calling you….

But it was Otto. Your former professor of all people. Dressed in those turtlenecks that hug his figure with dress pants and completing shoes that shine under the restaurant lobby’s lights. 

You lock eyes with him and freeze, both of you staring at each other in shock. “What are you doing here?” You ask him, you’d never thought that you’d see him again…period. “I could say the same about you,” he responded, fumbling with his hands. 

You can feel a few of your coworkers peer through the small window to look at you and the front staff watch the conversations from the blind spots of the counter. You sighed, “This is my hometown. I work here in the summer.” Otto glanced over the counter and noticed the nosy staff, they quickly retreated to the backrooms when they were discovered. 

“I just came to ask for directions since my phone died.” Otto held up the dead device. You nodded, setting your cup down on the counter, “Where are you headed?.. Or where do you think you’re headed?” This isn’t a common thing when people want to go somewhere in this part of the state but end up getting lost, the maps are outdated when you’re this rural, so you’ve had to point a few people the right way. “A retreat where some of my colleagues are, it’s supposed to be more up north..” He paused, you know Otto very well; he hates making mistakes, to be seen as an idiot when he genuinely didn’t know something, “but I think I took a wrong turn- ” he told you the name of the camp with a few descriptors of the place, and you nodded. 

You walked up near the front of the store and picked up a pamphlet, “I think this is the camp you’re talking about,” You handed the advertisement to Otto. He smiled brightly, “Yes it is.” You can see the relief across his face. 

“Good news then. You’ve only got two more hours worth of driving on the main road.” Otto’s face fell, it seemed that the urban convenience he’d had his whole life might’ve been a stunt to his patience. Though you don’t blame him, night driving in the countryside can be quite nerve-wracking.  Deer are the most ruthless to people from the city. 

You let out an airy chuckle, “Is it bound to get dark soon,” You eyed the electronic clock, it displayed the time 9:00 pm, “Are you sure that you want to drive when it’s dark out?” Otto looked like he wanted to say yes, but he stopped himself. 

“You’ll crash at my place tonight.” Otto opened his mouth to protest, but the carhop of your nightmares entered the restaurant and walked right up to him. “Hi! How can I help ya?” You clenched your jaw at the sickly-sweet tone she uses. Otto waved her off, “Ah, no thanks I’m just asking for directions from a friend of mine.” Otto gestured to you with those huge hands of his. You felt yourself heat up with pride, he sees you as more than a student; well, you do have his number…

You can see that the source of your dismay clenched her teeth with a customer service smile before walking away. Otto cleared his throat, “About earlier-“ “Yeah, you can just follow my car home.” You gave him zero room to say no.

“Ah, just a sec,” You walked into the kitchen to see if it was okay, but the team lead already waved you off and said, “Go.” 

Well shit.. alright then..

You grabbed the stuff you brought with you and you clocked out on an outdated machine up front. You waved to Otto to follow you, to the parking lot. You got in your car, and he got into his, and now you’re leading him to your place. 

It wasn’t that far of a drive, the longest part was making a left turn from one of the main roads, there always seemed to be cars there when you wanted to make a turn.

You pulled into your driveway and were now getting your keys out to unlock the front door. You felt the warmth of your previous professor at your back fighting the chilly night air. It was about time that the nights got cooler again, it’s nearly September after all…

You open the front door and hold it for Otto, but he uses his height to keep it open; his hand is high above your head to keep the door open, “No, it’s fine you can go in first.” You thanked him and went inside.

You were in the process of putting your things away in their respective spots when the front door shut behind Otto, he was watching you move around your house with ease; like clockwork. “You keep yourself on quite the schedule.” He watched you move around your kitchen, but then you stopped to look at him after he said that. “Oh, don’t let me stop you.” He moved his hands in a manner to tell you to keep moving. “No, I was just wondering if you’ve already eaten dinner? I can whip something up if you’d like.” You explained yourself, Otto nodded and you swore his face was a bit pink, “I did, thank you for asking, but about staying here-“ You cut him off again, “What kind of person would I be if I didn’t let the person I care about stay here for the night,” You turned to shut off the kitchen lights and show him to your bedroom, but you stopped yourself to relay that information to him, “You can stay in my bedroom, what kind of host would I be if you’re not comfortable?” 

“I was just going to say that I can sleep on the couch,” Otto protested, but you weren’t having it. 

“No, I’ll be fine. I have tomorrow off, you need the rest so you can drive.” “You need the rest so you can have a nice day off.” Otto folded his arms.

“No-“

“Let’s not-“ 

You both cut each other off in the argument..

….

You and Otto are now both dressed down in bed, looking at each other completely flushed and in partial shock from the stubbornness you both share. 

You click off the night, and Otto speaks, “Well, good night.” “Love you.” You automatically responded. You froze and Otto laughed. 

“Love you too.” 

[owenryder]

TASK #13 SHORT & SWEET

 ♥ What is your favorite book from childhood?: i didn't read, what kind of joke is this? kidding, i liked those dr. seuss books.

ღ Do you own an item that comforts you when you’re sad?: a porsche. next question.

✿ What makes you happy?: iris and jayla, and getting to hang out with carson over at grey's house. i think sometimes he lets me win at video games.

♛ What are three things you like about yourself?: i can honestly see the artistic value in anything if you give me enough time, i'm good-looking, which means that i get extra tips down at the garden, and i'm funny sometimes.

☾ Which season is your favorite?: probably summertime.

† Do you believe in the supernatural?: nope!

♪ Name a song that has a deeper meaning to you.: 'I'm Shipping up to Boston' by Dropkick. getting to see them live on st. patrick's day will always stick with me, and it's one of the very few times my dad did something 'fun' with me.

Ⓒ What do you think about social media?: listen, you can shit on social media all you want, but when you blow up on there, it changes your whole fucking life. it has its drawbacks, but i'll always be grateful for the doors that it opened for me.

ꕤ What would be your dream job?: art.

☼ Name three things you don’t leave the house without.: looking in the mirror, grabbing my keys, pocketing my wallet.

❧ What is your favorite comfort food?: mashed potatoes. loaded up with chives and sour cream.

⤷ Are you an active person? / What do you do to stay active?: eh, not on purpose. but when you work in food service, you are on your feet and moving a lot.

★ Name your three biggest inspirations (people-wise).: my tutor that traveled with us through high school, the nanny that raised me through my formative years, and the cook that taught me how to do the bare minimum in the kitchen.

✘ What is currently your favorite airing show?: the golden bachelor.

✈ If you had to go anywhere right now, where would you go?: i'm pretty content with staying in merrock, but i would love to visit tokyo again someday.

[alexdelray1]

Hobie x Reader Fluff

Warnings: I think there might be some bad words but i don't remember.

Song: Black Sheep by Metric.

Oh yeah... Oh yeah! Oh yeahhh!!!

Hello again, friend of a friend, I knew you when. 

Our common goal was waiting for the world to end! 

Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend! 

You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick, the past again!

Sending my love on a wire. 

Lift you up, everytime, everyone, ooh, pulls away, ooh. 

From youuuuu.

I sang my favorite song during rehearsal. Hobie played guitar and the rest played their instruments. I always wanted to play a song with other people, but I didn't know that I would be the only singer.

Got balls of steel, got an automobile, for a minimum wage. 

Got real estate, I'm buying it all up in outerspace! 

Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend! 

You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick, the past again!

I hated this feeling, but at the same time I loved it… At first I was terrified that I didn't remember anything, but after hearing the music the lyrics seemed to pop up in my head. It was always a strange feeling.

Sending my love on a wire... 

Lift you up, everytime, everyone, ooo, pulls a way, oo... 

Its a mechanical bull, at number one.

You'll take a ride from anyone, everyone wants a ride, pulls away, oooh..

From youuuuu...

-You did a great job, Reader. - Hobie complimented me and handed me the Coke that was on the table next to him earlier. I grabbed a coke and drank it.

-How about joining us?- asked one of Hobie's friends, hanging on my shoulder.

-It would be nice, but I can't. Work, my unacceptable father and I live in another city. Although I can play with you from time to time. - I lied in a quarter of that sentence.

-Yeah, Reader is making millions for some shitty company. For example, I'm there part-time. - Hobie made an alibi for me and for himself.

-So this is where you always run away when we don't go to clubs or play. Reader, remember. You can always share your boss's salary with your colleagues.- joked the guy who played the drums.

-I'll remember, okay Hobie, we have to go.- I said to my friend, grabbed my bag and started heading towards the exit.

-Bye, guys!- I said.

-Bye, motherfuckers!- Hobie said goodbye to his friends and started to follow me.

-Bye, bastard and Reader!- the three of them said goodbye to us. I left the building with Hobie and entered the alley.

-It's a pity that in my universe you are just a side character and don't live in my city. How about I get along with you from this universe? If you have the same voice, you would be useful to us. - Hobie offered and I turned on my 'watch'.

-Not very. When I introduce myself to your friends from this university, they will think whether I have amnesia. For now, rely on me and my rare visits. - I replied and pressed the 'hologram' button. My outfit immediately changed from normal clothes to a Spider-Girl costume.

-Do you know why every Spider man has a tight suit?- Hobie asked, changing the subject.

-I don't know why?- I asked, thinking what stupid thing he would come up with next.

-Because we all have great asses. And your dad the most. - Hobie started laughing and I opened the portal.

-Come on, stop traumatizing me.- I replied and entered the portal and Hobie followed me.

We found ourselves on Earth 616, on the roof of one of the skyscrapers. It's night now and it looks like we're still in New York, just a different one

-Wowowow! Why so high? - Hobie asked and grabbed one of the pillars.

-There are no unusual phenomena on this earth. They do not have, nor can they have, any heroes. No one here has power, so we have to be unnoticeable. - I replied and put on the mask, Hobie repeated this action after me.

-This is stupid. We would be less noticeable on earth. Like two figures on the roof of a skyscraper at night? It looks like we're trying to commit suicide. - Hobie said and wanted to start swinging around the buildings, but I stopped him with my hand.

-Wait a moment and don't whine. Swing so that no one sees you. No screams, no guitar sounds or anything else. Understood? - I asked and he sighed.

-Yes, mommy.- he replied sarcastically, shot a net and jumped off the building.

-God, I hope I don't regret taking him on this mission.- I said to myself and did the same as him.

We started getting closer to where the anomaly should be. I kept watching with my eyes to see if Hobie was about to pull out his guitar, but after a while I realized that he wasn't that stupid.

Swinging with a mask is so much better than without it for me. When I'm at HQ and I don't have to wear a mask, my hair gets almost everywhere. Okay, maybe it's also because I don't want to tie my hair, but that's my preference.

-I think we're there… - Hobie said quietly and landed in front of a house. It didn't look strange from the outside. There were no lights on in it, but there was some whining noise in it. I landed next to Hobie and crossed my arms.

-Let's quickly climb in through the window. This house looks abandoned, so there won't be a problem with witnesses. - I said and went to the window. I opened it and entered through it, and after a while Hobie did the same. I walked up to one of the walls and heard something.

-Is this… a baby crying? - I asked Hobi and he nodded.

-I think so too, but it could be a trap.- said the boy and started walking slowly towards the room from where the crying could be heard and I followed him.

Hobie opened the door and went inside first. In the middle of the room there was a baby, probably several months old, crying.

-Ah, it must have entered the portal somehow and landed in this universe.- I replied and breathed a sigh of relief that I didn't have to do much work today. I walked up to the baby and took him in my arms. Judging by the clothes, it's a boy. As soon as the baby opened his eyes and realized that neither his mother nor his father was holding him, he started crying.

-What a mama's bo…- Hobie didn't finish and started looking around.

-What's wrong with you?- I asked and started looking around. Suddenly, a villain ran out of the firecracker wall and tried to attack me.

His head was out so the only logical thing I could do was kick him in the balls. The logic is strange sometimes, but that's how it is. Unfortunately, in one hundredth of a second I realized that this was not the best idea, so it was easiest to lower my head from my knee.

The guy got hit in the nose and immediately fell to the ground with his nose almost detached. Don't worry, I won't turn anyone into Voldermort.

-Hey Hobie, look what an idiot.- I laughed and cleaned the blood from my knee.

-Well, I'm looking. So that's all? A bit boring. I expected something more exciting and here… eh. You take the kid and I'll take the guest. - Hobie said and wanted to approach the villain.

-Not so fast… I knew this would happen so… - the guy took a button out of his pocket. Oh wow. Either it's a bomb or he'll turn on the cameras and show us to the whole world.

-This is the button for the bomb that is in the room next to us… - said the villain and I laughed.

-Whoa. Guy, you can kill yourself when you land in your universe and not in this one.- Hobie urged him.

-It's not about the universe, cho-- the villain didn't finish.

-Guy, we don't care that the old man was beating you with a belt. - I said and I used the net to take the button from him and destroy it, dividing it in half.

-Now don't disturb us on our pathological date.- Hobie took him under his arm and we left the building.