#for variety sake lol

[grumpyghostdoodles]

Im printing that notification and putting it in my wall as a badge of honour

[frameconfessions]

What if the devs or just someone who works for Digital Extremes finds this blog and sends in a confession?

[vonlipvig]

From journalist, to political prisoner, to fugitive, and back again--for all his countless contributions to the world of journalism throughout his long and fruitful career, and his extraordinary efforts in the last year to restore democracy and unveil hidden truths, TIME Magazine's Person of the Year for 1992 goes to Jeremy Donaldson.

Happy New Year, folks, let's start this the right way: with a magazine cover, Not For Broadcast style! This was super fun to make, and I'm really proud of how it came out.

[tiny-sugar-dove]

✧Starry Sky✧

[reno2005]

So while looking into the 90’s/early 00’s RE comics some more I noticed this interesting detail of Leon going with Claire to Europe to find Chris after the Raccoon City incident.

While most of these comic stories are not considered canon and more so "what if" or "inspired" stories instead of retellings, it's interesting to see how the comic writers for this comic magazine imagined the lore for the series would happen considering how little they were given to work with.

[nerdstreak]

Round 1, Matchup 5

[missjanjie]

hii I was tagged by @fuckyeah-dragrace and @sigourneybeaverr to post 10 spotify songs ive been listening to a lot✨

idk who’s been tagged or not so do it if you want 💕

[arolesbianism]

Oh baby I am getting way to ambitious with my current oni run for someone who's laptop starts screaming anytime it opens steam

[ki-yomii]

like i do | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader

➥ word count | 3.2k

➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, mild praise kink, squirting, standing missionary, finger fucking, thigh riding, established relationship, angst w/ a happy ending, possessive!jk, jealous!jk, mentions of infidelity, trust issues

➥ summary | request - Jk being a jealous husband, angst and smuttttt 🥹💘

➥ notes | for lovely anon. hope you enjoy 💚 un-edited, i'll come back and fix any mistakes later. also poor jimin. i love him but i always seem to make him suffer lol.

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

Eavesdropping.

Whether it was a stray conversation in a shop, or lurking around corners to see what others really thought of you, everyone’s done it at some point.

Now, it’s a habit Jungkook tries not to encourage - much preferring upfront interactions and direct conversations - but that isn’t to say he’s never eavesdropped before.

But the problem with listening in on conversations you’re not supposed to be is you run the risk of hearing something you wish you didn’t.

And while it wasn’t intentional by any means - he respects you too much to spy, even if the urge is there - he learns this lesson the hard way.

The first time it happens, he’s in the kitchen refilling his cup of iced coffee. There’s a squeal of surprise followed by a lighthearted giggle, the sound of shuffling limbs and a low grunt.

Everything in him freezes at the sound of your delight, gut churning.

He always works so damn hard to pull the laughter from the depths of your throat. And it stings that Jimin - his friend, his brother’s attempts are effortless.

It’s something so simple, and yet the effect it’s having on him is undeniable as Jungkook white-knuckles the handle of his mug and grits his teeth.

His jaw nearly cracks in two when he hears the softly murmured greeting, “It’s good to see you, baby.”

And Jungkook knows, okay.

He knows there’s nothing romantic between the two of you.

If anything, you’re too alike. Twin flames of the platonic variety. Not only would it never work out, but you both feel nothing but familial towards one another.

For fuck’s sake, Jimin was there when Jungkook proposed. Was the one to encourage it, in fact. Has been nothing but supportive about your relationship even when others disagreed.

However, knowing something doesn’t dampen the spark of jealousy.

Nor does it soothe the sharp flash of hurt threatening to steal the breath from his lungs.

Jimin has always been affectionate with you, and he’s always a touch too flirtatious. It’s a part of who he is, and it’s one Jungkook would never ask him to dim. Jimin spent far too long hiding, pretending, stifling himself for other’s comfort.

And Jungkook loves him as he is, encourages him to be his beautiful, authentic self no matter what. Expect maybe when it comes to his wife… for reasons he’s unwilling to examine.

All schoolyard flirtations aside, what bothers Jungkook most are the pet names. He can put aside his petty jealousy because he knows its unfounded.

What’s harder is dismissing the use of that little four-letter word: baby. 

It’s supposed to be his way of telling you how much he loves you. Special, intimate. A stand-in for the four-word phrase he whispers into the silk of your skin, tattoos into your heart with his lips.

The realization he’s sharing a part of you he thought all his own sits bitter on the back of his tongue, an acid burn eating through his throat until he can’t find the words.

When you respond in kind with a soft, tender call a piece of him shrivels.

Standing in the kitchen adrift and lovelorn, Jungkook’s left with an empty longing he can’t name and no where to place it.

You weren’t together for more than six months before he proposed, knowing you were the one for him by the second date.

Maybe he moved too fast, was too receptive?

Growing up, he’d always been eager to move onto the next big thing, ready to jump head first. Some said that would come back to bite him in the ass. Was this the day?

Perhaps you regret saying yes so soon. Jungkook knows he’s not like other people. They need time to settle into their feelings like a house settling old wooden bones.

The last thing he wants is to make you feel trapped, suffocated under the weight of all his clingy, needy problems.

So he smothers the discomfort and walks into the living room. He shoots you a smile and inclines his head towards Jimin.

Thoroughly ignores the pulse of pain when he sees how cozy the two of you look cuddled up on the couch, legs tangled together with Bam at your feet.

That should be me.

You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He can’t lose you.

It’s there he silently vows to be less intense, less attached. Does his best to keep his hands to himself even though he wants to reach across the space between your bodies, and tug you into the cradle of his chest.

Bam picks his head up, cocking his ear to the side when Jungkook winces as Jimin reaches out to tug a lock of your hair, smirking around another purred baby.

Thankfully no one else but the dog notices his moment of weakness or the tension cutting through his shoulders.

Staring at his reflection, Jungkook tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and fiddles with his tie. The three-piece fits like a glove yet he’s never felt more uncomfortable.

He longs for soft cotton and baggy loungewear but tonight is important.

It’s your first year anniversary.

He’s had this night planned out months in advance; pulled all the strings needed to secure a reservation at one of the best five-stars in Gangnam.

You’ve been looking forward to it all week, and your excitement is infectious.

Only Jungkook’s mood sours as soon as he turns the corner to find you on the couch with company, dolled up and radiant. Jimin’s beside you, one leg crossed over the other and swirling a half-empty wine glass.

He says something too low for Jungkook to hear.

“Jimin!” You titter behind your hand, the flash of the jewels on your nails catching the light. “Sto-op! You nasty little freak.”

“What’re you doing here?”

Jungkook doesn’t mean to snap but the inner turmoil spills over before he can shove it down.

Your eyes lose some of their softness, the happiness fizzling from your expression like champagne bubbles. Mouth pinching in at the corners, you narrow your eyes.

A lump grows in his throat.

“What’s got you so pissy, Kook?” you ask.

Jimin clears his throat, averting his gaze to the side as he mindlessly plays with the stem of the glass.

The frosty look Jungkook shoots him withers under your pointed glare. Shoulders sagging, he runs his fingers through his hair, unable to care about how much he’s fucking up the style. 

“Sorry Jimin, I… ahem. Anyway, are you gonna be ready to go soon?”

“Mhm, just let me finish up here,” you trail off, motioning to the last few sips of your own wine. “We’ve still got some time before we have to leave anyway.”

Before Jungkook can respond, Jimin cuts in while twining an arm over your bare shoulders, cheek pressed sweetly to yours, “You can’t rush perfection, Kookie. Isn’t that right, pretty baby?”

It’s no surprise your anniversary ends in disaster; a fight so vicious it has you fleeing with an overnight bag, refusing to look at Jungkook let alone speak to him no matter how much he begs you to stay.

Leaving him alone in an apartment ringing with your absence, terrified this is the beginning of the end and thoroughly convinced he’s the worst fucking husband ever.

It’s been several days of radio silence.

No amount of texting or calling gets you to answer. And it’s starting to get to him, going out of his mind with worry, with guilt. If only he hadn’t said this, that, and the other.

If only you’d stayed.

Now, everywhere he turns, Jungkook’s forced to face the jealousy growning like a weed in his heart. And every day it gets worse; a stone crushing his lungs, a bottomless pit curdling his stomach.

He doesn’t know where you are exactly, but his suspicions are proven correct when he nearly busts down the door to Jimin’s apartment only to have you invite him inside, stony-faced and silent.

The quiet doesn’t last, broken by the awkward clearing of his throat as he avoids your stare.

“What are we even doing?” he asks.

Your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline.

There are bags under your eyes and heavy lines around your mouth. You look like you haven’t slept well. Jungkook’s gut clenches, bile bubbling up the back of his throat.

It’s all my fault.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Kook.”

“Please.” He refuses to acknowledge the plea for what it is. “I can’t - I can’t do this anymore.” His voice breaks, cracks in two, tears stopping up his tongue. “I need to know.”

Your eyes flash with confusion. “Baby?” You step closer, hand outstretched and shoulders relaxing. “What are you talking about?”

His intentions are pure, honest.

But months of simmering anger, of doubting everything about himself (again), of resenting the fact he resents you, resents Jimin at all, bubbles to the surface.

He’s not proud of it, but Jungkook explodes; a match set to gunpowder.

“I’m talking about you and Jimin!”

“Me,” you ask, blinking owlishly, “-- and Jimin?”

Jungkook smiles, sharp and unpleasant. Bitter and disappointed. Grief makes him mean, nasty. “Yeah, you and Jimin. Do you think I’m stupid - were you just gonna keep fucking around behind my back?” 

“Woah, pump the breaks! What the hell are--”

“Don’t even try to deny it.”

His eyes glint like shards of black ice, cool and assessing as he stares at you. Numb to the concern in your gaze, the purse of your lips. He’s slipping - he knows he’s slipping. Can feel the grief stricken rage pressing in at the corners of his mind.

The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, and yet he’s helpless to stop the words pouring from his mouth. “Did you like watching me make a fool of myself?”

You sneer, arms crossed over your chest so hard it looks like it hurts, “You’re doing that all on your own, Jungkook. I think you need to leave.”

“No, no, come on. I want to know. Why did you marry me if you don’t even want me, huh?”

Stalking closer, Jungkook corners you against the counter.

The smooth glide of his body is reminiscent of a large jungle cat, purely predatory. The uncomfortable thrill of it reflects through your gaze, the clench of your thighs.

Dark satisfaction curls low in his belly.

He asks, “Did he fuck you better, make you scream his name?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but you’re being a fucking pig,” you say, shoving his shoulder towards the door. “Now I really think it’s time for you to leave. Come back when you’re not being stupid.”

Strong fingers clamp down around your wrist, and Jungkook tugs you into his chest. His free arm curls around your waist, pinning you to his front. The heat of your body can’t drive away the sudden cold washing over him.

“Let go-”

“No.” He watches as any retort dies on your tongue, your eyes meeting his head on for the first time. Whatever you see hooks in, refusing to let go. “I’m not letting you go.”

Shivering, you try to tug your arm free, “Jungkook, please. You’re starting to scare me.”

In lieu of a response, Jungkook dips his head, and inhales the scent of your hair. Dragging his nose down the length of your neck as the familiar perfume floods his lungs. Soothes the prowling beast caged in his chest.

A rumble of satisfaction vibrates through him into you, your nipples stiffening against him.

Jungkook sighs, “You always smell so good, baby.”

The tension threaded through your frame releases, your edges softening until you rest against him fully. Shivers race down his spine when your breath tickles his ear.

You call to him softly.

He hums, nuzzling into the side of your head, “Mhm?”

“Can you let me go now? Promise I won’t go anywhere.”

Jungkook pulls back to look at you for several long seconds. Unlatching his fingers, he watches as you flex your wrist. Then reaches up to tenderly curl the digits around your throat, transfixed by the sight.

A hook of arousal sinks into his stomach.

Yanks hard when you gasp at the push of his thick thigh against your pussy, your whine when he flexes the muscle. With a soft cry, you sag into his body while your hands fly up to plant themselves on his biceps.

“K-Kook!”

“Mm, that’s it.”

The bubble of emotions boiling under the surface of his skin is at odds with the satisfaction coiling in his belly, the interested twitch of his cock.

Jungkook rolls his thigh and works you along the length of it. The heat of you burns through the cotton of his lounge pants, so warm and soft and wet.

"Don't--" your protest trails off, smothered by your teeth as your eyes flutter in pleasure. "Hn!"

Shit, he wants to bury himself so deep inside you’ll never forget the stretch. Ruin you so good with his cock you won’t dream of anyone else ever again. He’d make you his and his alone.

Fingers tightening around your neck, Jungkook murmurs, “Let me hear you, baby.”

Unsuccessfully trying to ignore how good the friction is, you shake your head in denial. But there’s no hiding how turned on you’re getting, panties sticky and thighs clamping around his.

You’re absolutely soaked, evidenced by the growing dark patch on his leg as he grinds you into a sloppy mess.

“W-We can’t, Jimin’s h-home.”

Mentioning the other man is a mistake, and you know that.

Jungkook sees the realization light up in your eyes seconds after he tenses, rutting up against you harshly. The bulge of his cock digs into the dip of your hip, throbbing in time with the labored heaves of his chest. 

His kneecap catches, the sharp ridge smashing into your swollen clit. Your mouth drops open, and Jungkook slaps a hand over your face before the wail escapes.

He knows he’s being rough, but the tears in your eyes soothe some of the hurt. And honestly, he can’t bring himself to care overmuch, especially when your hips jerk against his.

“Better be quiet. We don’t want Jimin to hear us,” Jungkook snarls, “after all, what would he think if he saw how bad you’re gagging for your husband’s dick?”

Your indignant response is cut off by another muffled whine, his teeth sinking into the corner of your jaw.

A weak spot of yours - Jungkook abuses it to his advantage. Swiping his tongue through the layer of sweat that clings to your skin, the salt bursting across his tongue.

He groans.

“I don’t give a fuck what you or Jimin think.” His breath puffs warm and moist over your ear, voice whiskey rough when Jungkook says, “You married me. You’re mine, baby, and I don’t share.”

Relocating, his hand releases your throat and finds your hips. He slips under the mid-thigh hem of your oversized nightshirt, and snaps the waistband of your panties with a firm tug.

Pulling the fabric free from between your legs, he tucks the ruined fabric into his back pocket as a souvenir. 

“K-Kook,” you say, voice warbling.

He hums, eyes glittering dangerously as his fingers brush over the top of your slit. Your clit jumps beneath the pad of his finger, swollen and throbbing.

When you hiss low between your teeth, he smirks, and bullies the little nub with rough circles until your hips shift from side to side.

“Ah, shit, baby. Can you hear how sloppy your pussy is?”

Jungkook dips his fingers between your folds, playing with your gummy walls as he gathers your slick, teasing the rim of your entrance. The filthy squelches echo out into the otherwise silent apartment.

He preens, chest puffing up with pride, and says, “He can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he?”

Without warning, he slides two fingers deep inside to the third knuckle. Chuckles when you burrow your face into his shoulder, your nails dragging raised lines of heat down his arms as your walls give, fluttering around his thick digits as you adjust to the stretch.

“Mm, you always take me so well, baby.”

You clench at the praise, and Jungkook pumps his fingers in reward, curling up to massage at the spongy patch of your g-spot. You whine, head tossed back and thighs shaking around his hand.

Pain shoots through the base of Jungkook’s spine, and biting back a curse, he reaches down to adjust his cock from where its trapped against you, swollen and leaking.

“Yeah, you’re such a good girl.”

“Please,” you whine before mumbling something else.

Jungkook’s not sure what it is, but figures it’s not all that important when your eyes roll back into your head and your hips twitch.

You start to bear down on his fingers, walls tensing and releasing.

“Gonna cum?” Jungkook nips at your bottom lip, panting into your mouth and sharing breath as his eyes bore into yours. “Fuck! Do it. Wanna feel you cum all over my hand.”

God, you look so good like this; eyes teary and brows crinkled, sweat-slick and mouth slack. A sight he never wants to be without. His sweet girl, his baby, his wife.

“Yeah, that’s it.” His fingers curl and pulse, pet and stretch. “Now open those pretty eyes.”

A hand curls around your jaw, tugs at your chin.

“Look at me,” Jungkook breathes.

Please.

He watches, greedy, as your lashes flutter, the lids weighted down by pleasure. Eventually, you manage to crack them open, and he ruts forward in response. His groan vibrates his lips as they smash into yours in a violent kiss. 

You pull away with a gasp, slick dripping down your shaky knees. “I can’t - hnggg - fuck, Kook!”

“Tell me who you belong to.”

He’s unforgiving in his demands, a cold fire burning in the depths of his eyes. His cock throbs, his hips trembling with restraint as he stops himself from rutting to completion against you.

His heart hammers against his ribs, and his stomach swoops.

The answer will either make or break him.

Anticipation floods the room with tension; hovering in the air like a word about to be spoken.

“Tell me.”

“I -- you, Kook, I’ve always belonged to you,” you say, clenching down around him. “Please.”

Capturing you with his gaze, Jungkook hooks a thumb into the corner of your mouth. All the hurt, all the doubts, all the rage bleed out of him like water tossed over the embers of a campfire.

Leaving behind the single-minded desire to give you what you want. What you deserve. Because you’re his and the only thing he wants to do is take care of you.

Love you like you deserve to be.

Like only he knows how to.

The taste of your skin is sharp and bright when his tongue flicks against yours, and he hisses into the plush of your mouth, “Cum.”

Keening, your pussy throbs once, twice. Your belly contracts. And then you’re gushing wetly, a warm flood of slick soaking the palm of Jungkook’s hand, dripping down to puddle on the kitchen tile. Your walls ripple, muscles spasming as you shake apart in his arms.

Jungkook holds you through it, soothing the aftershocks as you slump into him - a marionette with its strings cut. You’re cotton soft, cloudy. Head lolling on his shoulder when you look up at his profile with hazy eyes.

“Show off,” you slur when you catch the sight of his satisfied smirk, the puff of his chest as he stares at something behind you. “Can’t believe you made me cum all over Jimin’s kitchen floor.”

The sound of a choked-off, slightly hysterical laugh comes from the entryway, “Oh, I can. Just glad to see you guys finally made up. Now I’m gonna go wash my eyes with bleach.”

[tofupixel]

I recently started learning to use rpg maker (vx ace!) and as a result have become increasingly interested in pixel art. I hadn't really done pixel work since my teens - I do more digital painting and vector art - so while I'm a little familiar and can do passable editing, there's a lot I don't know.

One thing that's kind of perplexing for me is understanding the differences in style between two creators of pixel art. I studied art history and I'm used to the differences being things like brush stroke length or degree of realism... I feel like I'm lacking in lexicon in this new frontier lol

What nuances of an artist do you think are most important to style in pixel art?

This kind of stuff is not really officially studied (yet) so it's all a bit of opinion from me.

Usually in pixel art the biggest differences in styles are which limitations the artists choose to impose on themselves; colour count, resolution, palette... Or more stylistic choices like hue shifting, anti-aliasing style or no, dithering or no, etc.

I personally think there are a huge variety of styles in pixel art, as it's literally just a medium, and I hope you'll agree by the end 8)

Also (imo) there is some seperation between the styles of art for art's sake, and art for videogames, where things have to be clear and readable to be actually playable.

🎮 Old school games:

Sometimes referred to as something like '8-bit' or '16-bit' (relating to the NES era / SNES era consoles), these artstyles usually follow the rules and limitations of the hardware at the time.

This all falls under retro art, most popular styles include: NES, SNES, GB, GBC, C64

Notable artists: Nickwoz, Sandy Gordon, Franken, Cisco

📚 Old school art:

There were also events called Demoscene (still are), where developers would go to a big convention and share their demos. A lot of pixel art competitions were held here, where artists would draw live.

Generally they used to favour a high realism/semirealism style, with lots of texture/dithering, fairly high resolution (if the hardware allowed for it), and adjacent pixels mostly being different from one another.

There are even older styles than this but they are fairly niche and I'm not that well educated. If interested look into some of the old PCs/consoles.

⭐ Modern pixel art:

Usually using more colours and higher resolution, larger clusters of pixels instead of individual ones. Strong use of art fundamentals.

Artists to look at: Adam Ferguson (yes it is pixel art), Snake, Slym, 6VCR, Yes I do Pixels, Gijotto, SovanJedi, JoeCreates, Franek, @8pxl

the rest below are "modern" pixel artists too but I think they have other things in their style that are a bit different!

🎨 Painterly:

Some artists choose to emulate the natural brushstrokes digitally, and keep their clusters large and loose. Usually don't focus on the minute details as much.

@makrustic, @hexh-pixel, Umbohr, Gawrone

🟦 Dithering

These artists all use dithering / texture in ways that make their styles totally unique.

Deceiver, Night, Reo,

💥 Experimental

These artists are always trying new things and honing in on their unique style.

AJ, hby, @ilta222, Alphons

I could really go on for ever, there are so many different styles, cute pixel art, horror pixel art, 1bit (2 colours only), and then adding animation takes it even further, but I think you get the idea

If you want to learn more, the Masters of Pixel Art books have works /interviews from pixel artists of different eras, including demoscene and contemporary.

😊👍

[ladykailitha]

A Love Connection Part 2

Hey guys! Did you miss me? LOL!

Just a heads up this chapter is a little angsty because we have get Steve desperate enough to try going on a game show. But have no fear, it doesn't last long.

Also in this Susan Mayfield never marries Neil Hargrove, but she moves to Hawkins because her job moved her there. So Billy and Max aren't step-siblings.

Part 1

~

Steve nearly had a panic attack right there in the car when Chrissy screamed. There wasn’t a crisis. Or at least not one that needed immediate attention. What it was, was their little drunk text about #needsmoregays at A Love Connection went viral. There were actual fucking news articles. Yeah, the first was from Pink News, but the rest? Actual fucking trades. Variety, Dateline, even The Hollywood Reporter, for fuck’s sake.

Steve was going to pass out, but he managed to get them to the school safely. Thankfully there was nothing on Chrissy profile that was her real name or where she worked. She had a work Twitter for that. And that one was only on her computer at work. She was very careful not to cross the two. So there weren’t any news people out front of the school. But her DMs were filled with requests for comments or even actual interviews.

He decided she could do whatever the hell she wanted, he wasn’t going to get involved in this. She’s the one that drunk tweeted. Yeah, it was because of something he said when he was also drunk. But still!

He also decided ignore Chrissy and Robin at lunch, choosing instead to have it in his classroom to avoid them. Because, yes, he was avoiding them thank you. He just wanted to see gay people have love, too. Last Saturday was a disaster and he wanted proof that gays like he could find love.

Luckily, it was only a nine day wonder and Chrissy’s inbox went back to normal. Or as about as normal as one can get after have a tweet go viral.

They were cruising through the school year, same as always. There were always the super smart kids and the ones that didn’t care about history. So Steve always tried to make it as fun as possible.

Gladiator days where they wrestled stuff animals. Letting the kids stab him in March. Building their own mini pyramids. His hallpass was a gladius for extra fun.

They were gearing up the for Olympic games just before Christmas when Mrs. Byers, the principal pulled him out of his class.

“Hey, Steve,” she said warmly, “you’re not in trouble.”

Steve looked over his shoulder at his class before looking back at her. “Okay...”

She smiled up at him sweetly. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to watch the AV club today after school? Mr. Jenner went home because he’s puking his guts out. Normally I would just cancel, but a couple of the kids are in the club because their parents can’t pick them up until after seven.”

He let out a long sigh. He was going to go home and get ready to go try a new bar Chrissy had found. But now, by the time he got home, showered, and ate it would be too late to go out.

“Yeah, sure, Mrs. Byers,” he said.

“Thank you so much, Steve,” Mrs. Byers said. “Mr. Jenner will be so grateful too.”

Steve nodded and then waited until she walked away to roll his eyes. Nate Jenner’s alcohol problem was the worst kept secret in the school. Even students were aware that there were times he taught drunk. Most kids didn’t know why he would be slurring his words or conked out on his desk; only that they were his ‘bad days’. But the kids who did know? They tended to shield the other kids from the worst of it.

The problem was that Mr. Jenner was two years from retirement and they didn’t want to make him lose his pension. Which Steve thought that he absolutely should. That old coot had no business teaching students like that.

He went back to teaching his class, wondering who they got to cover Mr. Jenner’s classes. He finally got through to the last class and went to the science ‘wing’ of the school. He walked up to Mr. Jenner’s class room and there was Robin coming out of it.

“Now that’s just unfair,” he moaned. “If you were watching his classes, why couldn’t you watch the AV club?”

Robin patted him on the shoulder. “Because I played the dumb blonde routine until Mrs. Byers gave up.” She waved at him as she walked away.

With a sigh, Steve went into the room and began getting out the equipment that they would need. He didn’t know much about radios and shit, but he did know what they did and didn’t need.

He had just gotten set up when the first of the kids arrived.

He wasn’t surprised to see Will come in first. With his mom as principal, all of the teachers tended to tiptoe around him as to not have any ‘misdeeds’ taken back to her, so his last class never went over. Ever.

The next couple of kids to file in were Dustin Henderson and Lucas Sinclair. They both had Robin’s Spanish class last period, so it was no surprise to see them together.

“Sinclair!” Steve said, fist bumping the kid. “What are you doing with these nerds?” He was only joking and they all knew that. Lucas had been friends with Will, Dustin, and their other friend Mike since Dustin moved in in the second grade. Lucas loved history and was one of Steve’s brightest students so he liked to pick on him for his choice of friends.

“Sorry, Coach,” Lucas said with a grin, “if I wasn’t around they’d fall into an uncovered manhole or something.”

Steve gave Dustin their secret handshake, complete with death and everything to make up for the nerd comment. But Dustin and Will took it all in stride. They were used to the teasing.

A couple other kids came in. One spotted Steve and immediately walked back out.

“Some people just aren’t made for fun,” he lamented to the kid’s retreating back. “I’m just too cool for some people’s children. It’s not my fault.”

They all chuckled and then finally the last member of the AV club arrived. Mike Wheeler.

He sighed when he saw Steve, but didn’t turn around. He threw his backpack on the nearest desk and slumped into the chair with a heavy sigh. “Why can’t we get a teaching advisor who isn’t such a flake!”

Steve wiped his brow internally. Mike didn’t like him all the time, so the fact that he was complaining about Mr. Jenner not being there rather than Steve taking his place was a relief, honestly. It meant he wouldn’t be grumpy the whole time.

“All right everyone,” Steve said, clapping his hands together. “Dustin is in charge, Will will take notes for next time. Let’s go!”

The club went as well as could be expected considering Steve really didn’t have any idea of how all this stuff worked.

After class while Steve was waiting on the curb with the ‘Party’ as they called themselves, waiting for their parents to pick them up texting Robin and Chrissy.

“Coach...” Lucas asked, “did we ruin your plans?”

Steve felt a stab in his chest as his head shot up to look the kid in the eye. He looked down at his phone where there were dozens of messages bitching Robin out for leaving him with the AV club because she had a girlfriend and Steve didn’t even have that. Or boyfriend, which was his preference. He had dated women in the past but he liked men more. Or rather liked men full stop. That was certainly a revelation and a half.

He put his phone away with a sigh. “No, Lucas you didn’t. It was due to the irresponsible behavior of Mr. Jenner. He’s the one to blame. I was just a little annoyed at Miss Buckley because she knows this stuff better than I do, but got out of it under false pretenses.” His eyes cut to Will. “Don’t tell your mom I just said that. I don’t want Miss Buckley in trouble.”

Will held up his hands in surrender. Steve nodded.

“I love history and sports and swimming,” he began, he held up his hand to stall whatever words were going to come out that kid’s mouth. “For fun, Dustin. I like swimming for fun, which is why I didn’t include it in sports.”

Dustin huffed and crossed his arms over his chest with a pout.

“I like going out with friends and meeting new people,” Steve finished, “and of course I love teaching you kids. But I look around me and I just see someone who’s stagnated before he’s even thirty.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know why I’m telling a bunch of teenagers this. Sorry.”

Will put his hand in Steve’s. “You’ll find someone. If my mom can find someone at her age, you can find someone, too.”

Steve gave his hand a squeeze and didn’t point out that Mrs. Byers, Joyce had already had two kids and had been divorced by the time she was thirty so it really didn’t count.

Mike’s mom Karen arrived first. Mike just waved goodbye and slipped into the passenger side of her car.

Steve shook his head. Mike was trying to learn how to balance friends and liking girls and after school activities. He’d get there.

Dustin’s mom and Will’s older brother Jonathan arrived at the same time. Jonathan was Steve’s age, but Will have been born over a decade after him as a last ditch attempt to save his parents’ marriage.

Steve waved goodbye to them and then it was just Steve and Lucas.

“My mom always told me,” Lucas said softly, “that there might not be one person out there for everyone, but there is the right person out there for what you need right now. I think she was trying to explain why Mrs. Byers had two husbands, but I think it works for you, too. You’ll find you right person at the right time.”

Steve blinked down at this boy, barely thirteen. He rubbed the top of Lucas’s head. “Thanks, kid.”

Just then his dad pulled up. “Go on,” Steve murmured. “I’ll see you after the break.”

Lucas re-shouldered his backpack to just the one shoulder. He paused as if he wanted to say something else, he just shook his head.

“See you later, Coach!”

He got into his into dad’s car and immediately started talking to him about school excitedly.

Steve pulled his coat tighter around him. He wanted to be that dad, but as time wore on it was looking less and less likely. He went back inside to clean up and grab his stuff. He had a pile of assignments he had to grade. He never gave homework and never did tests. Both were pointless in his opinion, plus it meant that he less stuff to mark and grade. He based his grades off participation and being able to stay on task.

He walked through the darkened halls and felt the weight of it on his shoulders. His best friend and her girlfriend were out having the time of their lives, while he was alone in more ways than one.

He didn’t even Garfield to keep him company anymore. Yeah, he was just a stupid goldfish, but he was Steve’s.

The cold seeped into his bones and buried into his heart. He was even going to be alone for Christmas. Chrissy was taking Robin to her brother’s for the holiday. They felt bad because they both knew Steve’s parents had cut him off long ago and didn’t have anywhere else to go.

But he had encouraged Robin going. Meeting her girlfriend’s family was important. And with Chrissy and her brother, Peter both being estranged from their parents it was even more important than usual. They promised they would be back for New Year’s and Steve promised he would be fine.

He stepped onto the curb and stopped, tilting his head back, eyes closed as he fought back tears. When the first snowflake landed it made him flinch at the sudden extra coldness to his cheek. That one was followed by another and another. It was hell.

He opened his eyes and let the snow melt on his lashes, the cold mingling with his hot tears.

~

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: SEVEN SLOTS OPEN

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- 9- @dreamercec @wheneverfeasible @garden-of-gay

[my-my-my]

Obsessed, they're playing with a hanafuda deck 😭 I know this is filler (from ep 257), but it was fun to see how they're playing! I thought they were playing koi-koi, but Katen Kyokotsu is playing with them. Koi-Koi is a 2-player game, so I think they're playing Hana-Awase.

This is me rambling/fangirling over hanafuda and it's a bit image heavy, so I'm putting it behind the cut.

Katen Kyokotsu managed to get 5 Brights 😭 that's so hard to do!

Also for Shunsui's card pile (top), he managed to make Ino-Shika-Cho (Boar, Deer, Butterfuly) which is worth 5 points!

He also has the sake cup, but since he doesn't have Cherry Blossoms or Moon Brights, he can't make "Cherry Blossom Viewing" or "Moon Viewing". The sake cup is relatively useless unless he begins making a "junk" pile (which he is, but it only has 4 cards). I think they're playing a variation where the sake cup can be considered as an "animal" card. I find it funny how Shunsui has the sake cup - it has the characters for "longevity" inscribed in it. He is the last-man standing (aside from Katen, but does she really count if she's a part of Shunsui lol).

Jushiro's spread includes "Red Poetry Ribbons" (also worth 5 points) and he's also close to making "Animals/Variety" (he needs one more animal to make it). The January (pine) and February (plum blossom) poetry ribbons only have "red ribbon" written on them, but March (cherry blossom) says "Miyoshino" which refers to to "Yoshino" in Nara prefecture - known for their splendid cherry blossoms!

This is an unserious post lol. I just love hanafuda (and by association, koi-koi) SO MUCH. I eat it up when I see it in the media I consume.

[court-jobi]

hi! i love your works so much!!! i was wondering if i could request a hawks x pop princess f! reader?

like he does security for her groups concert and hes like “pffft im number 2 why do i need to be here”. then he watches her during sound check and is like okay i need to know more about her. so while shes getting ready hes just hovering backstage trying to talk to her. after the show she finally gives him her number (def against her companies wishes) and hes like trying to be suave and flirty and shes like “oh my god why is this working”. just a lot of hawks being a lover boy and sending gifts to her company anonymously and cutesy stuff like that lol. they have to keep their relationship a secret bc her company has a very strict no dating unless we agree rule. can be pre or post war hawks btw! you can take this wherever you want with it as well! can be nsfw or not.

im sorry that was so long! i was trying to make sure my thoughts were coherent lol.

Ooooo I love this idea so much, what a lovely dynamic to picture: a fanboy Hawks for a change, perhaps?? ~ this was a fun one to work on! @strwbrrykthv i sure hope this one was worth the wait and that I've done it justice!

You all are seriously the best readers a gal could ask for, and these requests are ✨giving me life✨~ Keep 'em coming!!

Who Has the Mic

Words: 4.3k

Rating: T

Warnings: Pro Hero!Hawks x popstar fem!reader, forbidden romance, flirting, mostly FLUFF, mentions of canon-typical threats, protective instincts, Hawks is a little shitTM, we love him your honor

for my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Hawks falls prey to a special thrill out of extending favors to others. 

‘I owe ya one’-- such a simple nicety that in the beginning, he doubts anyone would truly come to collect on it. It makes him sound agreeable, charming, starved for connection even before the height of his inevitable fame. 

Then he rose and rose in the hero rankings, securing himself into the very visible and wildly popular top spot, in terms of viewer popularity. 

It’s now that the redemptions of Hawks’ pro-hero favors have come rolling in… The unexpected keeps him on his toes and entertains him for the most part; and if it’s all for the sake of protecting others, then why not have a little fun with it? 

Once upon an overbearing press conference, back when he was first tiptoeing into the public scene… Hawks begged a makeup artist on staff for a spot to hide out in the green room and sneak a snack or two (or ten). He was granted pity for a teenager expected to take a seat at the table of an albeit boring Commission presentation. Well, it seems that particular makeup-artist rose within the talent realm themselves, and ended up reaching out to “that flyboy kid” back for a surprising accommodation: 

Top tier talent warrants top tier security.

Hawks takes a call at his agency and soon finds himself ushered in for the Tokyo opener of the reigning top-of-the-charts pop star with a voice of gold. The first meeting of old acquaintances led the Pro-Hero to tour the brand new, sky-high facilities, then return for the load-in day of the stage. Again for first dress, and each night of the week-long residency.

He carries his presence on the stealthier side, far above the stage floor in the scaffolding. Up here, lights are rigged with steel supports running every which way, where he executes perfect balance while walking in a straight line atop them. He’s checked -double and triple- that each outlet is free from hazard, each line of multi-ton equipment has been secured and safe, so that even his ‘adventuring’ from up high is not a risk.

He’s happy for the variety of work he faces as a hero- but right now, he’s bored. He shouldn't be feeling so dreadful, especially on the job, but he is. It’s not his style to be so down, after all. But Hawks has checked into every nook and cranny of this place and for the sake of an understandably hypervigilant security team, has an eye for which points of entry and exit could use a bird’s eye view come showtime.

His muscles are used to far more fast-paced antics and time-sensitive chases; not traipsing around like a literal vulture ready to swoop in at any moment. Surely he’s needed elsewhere.

But the threats have been rolling in… as they do for all of these larger-than-life musician types who found their way into the spotlight. They’re at risk of going in blind if they don’t have a good team around them to help them see.

So here he is, playing guardian angel to do his part and make sure all goes smoothly. It's a big operation by his count; there’s sixty members on the tech roster, plus the venue stage manager and their contracted staff, then all performers, and of course the headliner. Now where she is, he’d like to know– for not so selfless reasons.

He’d know her music by heart, given how much of an earworm and personal anthem her songs have become for him. It’s rare that the tables are turned, where Hawks is the fanboy and someone else is the idol. That dream is his dangling carrot for completing this mission successfully: he has the most sought-after bodyguard duty in the nation, and as good as a front row seat to her show.

Yet in a weird sense, Hawks also kinda hopes he never meets her. Doesn’t want to crush that bubble, ruin the allusion of the woman he’s got set as his ringtone.

So, he just runs his headcounts on all bodies supposed to be present at the top-of-show meeting to busy his mind. All is in order. ‘Cues’ are rounding up the pre-show acts, each in plainclothes for this rough stumble-through. Still doesn’t see the little starlet yet, and he gets the residual feeling that this might be typical behavior of ‘the talent’ to show up whenever she damn well pleases. 

Though funnily enough, he spots a pretty thing down there sporting some Hawks merch! Always nice to see a supportive fan in the most unlikely places… 

It's a well-fitting quarterzip sporting his red feather blades down each arm, an item he vaguely recognizes from this season’s newest launch. She’s got headphones on and subtly bopping about in her own little world, perhaps running through tonight’s set under her breath, if her self-contained taps of the fingers are an indication of her keeping beat. 

Hawks’ curious attention to that girl on the fringes of the stage is pulled when he hears the strict timbre of the stage director he’d met on day one take center stage.

“Ok, time to rein it in. As we covered in the email from Sec-Eng- which I’m assuming you gen-z’ers have read,” the bossman snarks to the younger members of this crew down below, “we’ve got some additional eyes in the sky pulling security for this leg in the tour. So, I want to give you all a chance to get your excitement out -along with your thanks- to our equally chart-topping hero, Hawks~ who’s… somewhere around here.”

Hoodie girl blanched– as if she’d been told she’d need to share her internet history to her grandmother. Immediately, she tosses off her headset and starts frantically stripping herself of the jacket she wore. While enthusiastic heads all fly around in every direction in search of the hero, Hawks chuckles at the sight of her alone. 

“...//Well, he’s probably checking the perimeters anyway//. How bout we all just send a big thank-you, eh?”

The couple of ‘Hoodie’s fellow dancers were poking fun at her -poor thing still flushed and clammed up- while the group gave a loud, singsongy ‘thank you!!’ up to the stage doors, assuming the Pro-Hero might be busting in, grand entrance fashion on command. The love-laden response from the dancers makes Hawks roll his eyes lightly, but he appreciates their praise all the same.

They giggle about in jazzed excitement with one’s voice carried out squealish and feminine, despite their professional assembly,

“Oh my god, you must be in HEAVEN!! He’s gonna be watching you ALL NIGHT!”

‘Hoodie’ looks downright mortified. The others have seemed to gather around spouting nothing but encouragement to this little fan girl who's doing her best to put on a poker face. Adorable. 

“Now we also need to make some edits before the crew breaks for lunch, everyone, so we are gonna start today with opening of Set 5 instead- hold.. Hold on… WHO HAS THE GOD MIC??”

The mics table scrambles for the one handheld microphone with omniscient audio range to the house. Surely it's the one thing they wouldn't lose and should hand straight to the Stage Manager, right? 

Well, said mic was sitting unattended there on the cart earlier… all for the Winged Hero’s taking when he was making his preliminary sweep earlier. 

From his inner jacket pocket, Hawks catches his lip in his teeth as he remembers where to turn the thing on. Once his throat cleared and the mic blinks red in sync with the soundboard, he amplifies a little trademark bird whistle: for each and every soul in sight to hear. 

The stage erupts in excitement, as planned. ‘Hoodie’ immediately teeters over to one of the props hideaways and stows said jacket away. 

Hawks chuckles with the mic at chest level– only to call her out from his perch,

“Saw that, dear~”

Seems logic caught up with the poor thing, as she -finally- pieced together the true vantage point of her idol’s presence, and looked up. 

Sparing her too much embarrassment, Hawks simply cocked his head on a folded up fist and gave a little wave of some fingers to her. 

Despite her clear shock and surprise, she did smile brilliantly back and gave a little signed ‘thank you for being here’ rather than a scream like all the others.

The stage manager followed her line of sight to where the hero stands in wait, ready to dismount and return his bit of cheekily stolen equipment. Despite some bewildered aggravation to Hawks’ antics, he gestures with the exhaustion of a high school teacher.

“There now, see kids? That's how you protect your voices before a show!! Better than belting your way to the doctor’s office. Our star here sure leads by example now doesn't she–” 

In rare form for the hero, it's Hawks’ turn to be stunned. His fangirl: it’s you.

Everyone else may be calling that first call time your lucky day… but you were intimidated to the point of feeling ill. Thank goodness for your poker face; because locking eyes with Hawks’ stunning crimson canopy and giving you that wink and a grin about sent you into a heart attack. 

You're starstruck. The absolute heartthrob of an idol you revere as your favorite Pro-Hero has been standing over 150 meters above your head, watching for every sign of danger that could threaten you for the last week. 

That near guarantee of safety would trump your fleeting nerves– if you hadn’t given the first impression of a closeted fangirl like you did!!

Nothing short of awe crossed your mind when you so much as think of the hero. A very vocal fan whenever he came up in the news or your social feed amongst your inner circle. Hawks is a household name for you, who you were incredibly fond of… both in how he handled massive crowds or charmed in intimate, one-on-one interviews. 

You know the role; you suck up for cameras, too, as it's all in the optics. But for every PR-guided response you know is crafted by easy-going smiles or a disarming tone, you remember to see past the spectacle of Hawks and look for ‘him’. Remove the wings and hero getup: who is he? Can you spot the tells on camera like your mom can when she watches you? No matter how big of a global phenomenon her baby girl gets, she can still tell when you have a headache while having to give an appearance on a talk show. 

The man you spot on screen has to have a series of faults and slips. Even battle-ready heroes put their shoes on one at a time– just like everyone else. He’s sure to have a favorite lunch spot, a favorite pen to use for autographs, a favorite singer, even… 

Surely not you, but a girl can dream.

There’s a glazed-over glint in Hawks’ eyes when he very subtly checks out when being spoken to which gives you the strong suspicion you two may not be so unalike. And that list of little mannerisms has grown exponentially– with every day that's passed:

Hawks has difficulty staying still, you've learned. He’s also much younger than people assume. Carries a crafty habit of popping up unexpectedly in a way that’s youthful– and borderline cheeky. From atop a stack of amps, to a crowdless green room, to the rigging of lights where you've stunned the crowds for the last four nights, he’s perched out of sight from your thousands of fans. 

Though each little comment thrown here and there in praise has floated down to your ears in sweet jest, things come to a head when the last night of your show arrived: where the crushing realization sought to dampen your mood. 

After tonight, you wouldn’t have your angelic, crimson-winged shadow anymore. 

But Hawks surprises you once again. 

You nearly miss it, too, once your final round of ‘surprise songs’ is revealed and you are snuck down to your assigned hideout to get ready to leave the venue. It’s back in your can-lit dressing room that you’re making double takes down the hall looking for any sign of your security team; especially the one to whom you owe a hefty ‘thank you’ to for all his efforts.

-but as your half-redressed form has donned your beloved Hawks hoodie once more, you’re not so spooked to hear a familiar whistle from behind you this time.

Headphones slung back down around his neck and wings slimmed down to a more presentable manner for tight hallways like these, Hawks slips into your prep space with a speedy uptick of steps. A knowing whisper to ‘shut the door fast so no one notices’ eeks out of him, eliciting a smile from you.

Each one of your suspicions are confirmed with that one comment alone; he knows this game well. Still, playing along with his dance of keep-away from any prying eyes (or cameras) doesn’t mean your heart isn’t  hammering away in your chest at the knowledge of getting your hero all to yourself.

So here, Hawks traipses around your makeshift room with unbidden interest– which, for such a small space, is cute to know how many little details pique his curiosity. Your various outfits still hang all facing the correct way, your personal backpack sits beside it on the end featuring your mess of pins and collected patches from the locations you’ve toured thus far. The run schedule is still taped on the wall, and below it, your laptop has your notation software open and idle onscreen.

“Well, now,” Hawks chimes in with a little crouch over the back of your empty chair, “Surely I’m not looking at our next chart-topping hit in the making, am I?”

“Maybe!” you chuckle, joining his side to quickly save your work before you forget. “It’s getting the lyrics and melody to marry right that’s the hard part. Working out the latter right now, and it’s kinda kicking my butt.”

“But you’re doing it! Look at all this– wait. Is this what you were dancing to earlier?”

Damn his powers of observation. You’d been testing out the rhythm of the hook this week– when you’d been caught under his attention.

“...M-maybe?” you hedge again.

“I knew it-” Hawks beamed, “A stunning starlet and a mastermind. What can’t you do?”

Flattered beyond belief, you answer honestly, 

“Keep myself outta trouble with my managers. Trying to, at least,” you close the laptop to conserve its power, “but between the shows and speaking engagements, it’s left me a bit starved for time to actually make the music.”

“N’why would writing get you in trouble?”

“It takes me away from all the other things I ‘have to do’,” you sigh easily. “They can bring in anyone to make the music and keep pitching songwriting teams to me to take the load off. Just think something’s gotten a little out of balance.”

Without meaning to, you held Hawks’ attention– enough to make him sit back on the armrest of your couch and listen with undivided attention while you explained your creative process more. While most J-Pop performers would be thrilled to have outside writers create the work and easy into a performance schedule with pre-set work to learn, you loved to have a hand in the writing process too. As an art form, it’s personal when you have to perform season after season. 

You’ve chatted quite a bit here and there over these last several days, though not this extensively. He was interested in so much about this whole operation, to the point where you wondered if he’d ever met any of the performers who you knew presented at some of those hero galas he went to. Apparently not, by the way he’d lock onto your every word when you spoke. Either your timekeepers (or his) would inevitably interrupt you, so back to work you two would fly off to.. though you’d seem to circle back to one another and chat about anything and everything if given the chance- little spurts of talk that always left you wanting more.

He’d commiserate with you on that front as well– the balance of stardom and freedom. Bogged down by meetings and public appearances wore on him just as much as you. With every roadblock you described about your recent album development, Hawks nodded along with expected understanding. 

The revolving issue of personal safety might have brought him into your employ, but you know more and more cases like yours filled up his day-to-day life in ways you couldn’t imagine… but he even shed some light on that as well to you. He’d burst the bubble on hero work as an industry through little asides with you offstage: comments he’d likely get reprimanded for if he ever spoke them in a public statement. 

But you’d keep his secrets safe. What happens on set stays on set.

So even now, as he’s tucked himself into your dressing room while you puttered around chatting about your true dreams of getting a new concept album wrapped by the end of the year, Hawks tuned in with genuine interest that only made your heart skip a beat for him more.

“I haven’t always gotten the time to work on it lately… though this week, I’ve had a clearer head to be in here rather than under lock and key with a security force breathing down my neck– which is largely thanks to you, Mr. Hawks.”

“Oh please,” Hawks scrunches his nose and teases, “Mr. Hawks is what the lawyers call me. Just Hawks is fine!”

You exhale, squishing back any girlish outburst from your voice at how fussy he looked. 

“All the same, thank you for your help this week,” you pressed, “It’s -uhm- not often I get to meet my favorite Pro Hero on the job…”

A pleased smirk lifts Hawks’ cheeks, though you spot a funny kind of shyness in them when he studies your sleeve rather than look you in the eye-

“Favorite, huh?” Hawks smiles, “ n’here I thought I was the lucky one, sweet’eart-” he taps his headphones for emphasis, “One day I’m listening to you on repeat on my morning commute– and the next, I’m standing two feet from you!”

“--You’re kidding.”

From his pocketed phone, Hawks challenges you with a press and hold on the speakers to boost the volume as high as it could go. Faintly, you caught your own pop vocals from your second ever album casting from Hawks’ headphones. 

You can’t believe your luck– he’s really a fan? Of yours?

The mix of sentimentality and surprise must be palpable on your face as you grasp exactly which song has Hawks spellbound before he cocks his head with a sheepish grin of his own, 

“Believe me now?”

Words fail you, but you shudder out a little giggle that speaks volumes. He tests with a smile,

“Soooo guess you wouldn’t mind if I asked a horribly stereotypical favor and snagged a selfie while I’m here?” 

Eyebrows shot up to the sky as Hawks dangled his phone between you, you immediately pause. No one on your Communications team is still backstage (to your knowledge), but the engrained warning about checking your professional list of partnerships before posting comes to mind… annoying as it is. All you want is a pic with him, too!

“Nothing for socials-” Hawks assures you with a gloved hand, “If your handlers are just as pesky as mine, they’d never let me live it down. Just– something to keep me grounded, on the hard days.”

That reasoning… it almost broke your heart just as quickly as your potential disappointment had been earlier. 

With a knowing smile, you nodded sweetly to Hawks- he’s charming in a whole new light to you.

“Only if you send it to me too, hm? Favor for a favor?”

“ ‘Course!”

Sliding up into his open space, Hawks clearly knows his best side but keeps you right in the center of his shot. That smile he makes… you are going to keep this proud glint in his eye and sight of his hand around you locked into your mind forever– even if he forgets to send it to your insta handle after this. 

It’s too brief of a moment, watching his wing curl around you though the phone’s front-facing camera burgeoning you close, head tilting gently against yours. Keeping a close-lipped smile seared into your mind when you think of him now.

Then in an even more lightning fast moment, while he’s fussing with a weird flip of his bangs, you reach to tap the shutter as you sneak a kiss onto his cheek. 

He’s stunned by the move, but by the even brighter muted smile, you stand by with pride double checking his photo gallery that the shot made it. It surely did. 

“You have a hard job, Hawks; harder and more dangerous than anyone I know,” 

You step away casually.. Though the need for distance is more for your sake than just optics of your forwardness. 

“... Thought you deserved more than one lil selfie. Hope that’s ok?”

“H-okay?” Hawks breathes out, studying his camera roll with reverence, “Better’n ok..”

Outside a muted feedback from the PA system is calling for Exit team to assemble– get staged for your departure from the venue at last.

“That’s me. Better bounce-” Hawks piped up after a small clearing of his throat. You’re nearly too shy to look at him after this-

-but when a kiss greets your hand, lifted imperceptibly fast and squeezed just as fleeting as his words grace your ears- you couldn’t look away if you tried.

“- a pleasure, dear.”

And before you can utter any further word of thanks or manage something other than a shocked smile, Hawks slips out of the room and off to hand the reins back to your team. You can barely hear from the still-live walkie talkies that your security detail is back at their regular stations, and your Pro-Hero is off for his final step of his hired work. Soon he’d be relieved of his station and off to save someone else from an unsavory fate.

He doesn’t forget to send you the photos; and you now have his private insta handle.

The photo where you snuck a peck onto his cheek would be set as your internal screenshot if it weren’t for your niece’s constant borrowing of your phone when she visits you on set… 

But now, you’re back for a month-long stay at the studio– your reward for a successful first half of the Tour.

Encouraged by your protective muse’s spark at the thought of your new music, you decide to take that energy back to Chichibu. Your headphones might as well be glued to your head, with how much you’ve head-dived into your sound mixing apps and sampling library. In fact, it’s that unwavering attention to your music that you nearly miss the most obvious sight walking through the lobby of the unassuming recording studio. Almost.

But how could you really– when the largest floral arrangement you’d ever seen is gracing the reception table? That stunning piece looks like it costs more than the linoleum flooring the desk sits on. 

A few aides have been distracted by the sight, studying the typed message attached and racking their brains for any sign of a calling card. One of your cutting room techs was currently rounding the base of the standing arrangement for some tucked note, which made you giggle how intently she was studying the thing. 

You know the sound booth manager best out of this group of other visiting accompanists,

“Lucky, lucky girl~” she reels you in excitedly, plucking the card from the other’s sights and handing to you directly. “Sorry to say there’s no hint who it’s from… but it’s for you, little bird!”

You hedge at the pet name once again– the nickname stuck unwillingly not only for your melodic talent, but the association with your clear celebrity (heroic) crush. 

However, as you read the note, the immediate assumption that this may have been another gift from a venue host was thrown right out the window…

This was a personal gift:

To keep my genius company while she makes her magic~ No one can give us the stories you can; don’t ever  let them take your voice. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve heard. Can’t wait to hear the new demo!

“No matter how high or low I am.. a piece of me will be here with you. It’s- where I'd rather be... Till next time…”

“Next time? Wait, who sent these again?!”

“It was just the delivery guy, from that really flouncy place downtown~” the receptionist answers with interest.

“Nooo, I mean on the card! Who signed the card?

“There's nothing– no initials, nothing..” you confirmed, still reeling over the message. But as you trail off over the cascade of tropical flowers, the flecks of red blooms catch your eye and bring you to study harder. 

Then- tucked under some deep green curls- a spot of red hides. A quill amongst the mossy padding of the arrangement- not unlike a surprise found in a nest.

Sifting through under the guise of feeling tender petals, you grasp the soft, downy feather which bears a small post-it flag on the underside with a sequence of numbers on it. 

“Do you have any idea who?”

Balling it carefully in your fist just as quickly, you answer, “Couldn't tell ya. But the pop of red sure is pretty, isn't it?”

In your booth -set up with your sticker-laden laptop and butterflies in your stomach- you hold the sticky note in one hand, pinching the crimson feather precariously in the other. 

Face warmed and unbelieving of your luck, you think on what to send first to your mic-stealer…

To be continued?

[magicalregression]

General Hazbin Hotel hcs

Hello fellow agere hazbin enjoyers. I come with hcs for the main 6. Pls enjoy

🛡 ~ Charlie ~ 🛡

She's a little. Regresses to like 6-7 y/o and is so sweet and innocent.

Still wants to help everyone, and spends her time drawing posters to attract people to the hotel.

Her main cg is Vaggie for obvious reasons, though she will also gravitate towards Angel if he's around.

Eepy baby. Once all of her energy is gone, pick her up and she falls right to sleep.

⚔ ~ Vaggie ~ ⚔

She's a caregiver. Vaggie also will babysit the other littles in the hotel if needed, though she has an obvious preference for Charlie.

Is kinda hard on the littles when need be, can be very strict. This is especially true for bed/nap time, mealtimes, and baths. No stinky, overtired littles on Vaggie's watch.

This just popped into my head but cuddles where she uses her wings as like a blanket thing or just lets the little snuggle into it yes yes

Tends to clean up after playtime. She wants to be madder, but could never be truly angry with her babies.

🕷 ~ Angel Dust ~ 🕷

Angel is both a little and a babysitter. When he regresses, it's at a similar age to Charlie, maybe a bit older to around 7-8.

His energy levels highly fluctuate depending on his emotions before regressing. If he had been in a stressful situation or recently come back from work, he's very tired and kinda just wants to be alone with whatever he's entertained himself with. If he's not in a high emotion environment, he's full of energy!

Likes playing tag and hide and seek with the others. Sometimes forgets that he's much bigger than everyone, though, and may accidentally cause some booboos.

As a babysitter, he takes his job very seriously. Might not be as strict about meals or naps (definitely lets them just have as many sweets as they want), but will take tea parties and games very seriously.

📻 ~ Alastor ~ 📻

I know a lot of people like little Al but for personal reasons, he is a caregiver lol. He has too soothing a voice and mannerisms with Nifty for me to not harp on it.

Takes his little out to Overlord meetings or to visit Auntie Rosie. When they go see Rosie, she always has a new outfit for them, whether a onesie or full outfit, there's always something. At the Overlord meetings, he'll let them sit in his lap or between him and Rosie. The others don't mind bc I say so.

Alastor doesn't like touch he doesn't initiate, and you are no exception. That being said, if they find a way to pull on or play with his ears, the most he'll do is let out a long sigh before letting them continue.

Calls them a little Overlord. "Come now, little Overlord, it's time for bed." and "Little Overlord, what have I told you about sneaking up on others?" and the like.

I have the most thoughts about him but will keep this short for everyone's sakes

🧹 ~ Nifty ~ 🧹

A little. She has the biggest fluctuation though and will be either 2 or like 7, no in betweens.

Always has energy. She's bouncing off the walls. Because of this, Angel is the last person asked to take care of her because he'll give her candy and then she gets even worse. He's also a little cautious because of the one time he made her cry, but Nifty just kinda drifts over to him anyways.

Husk usually gets stuck looking after the lil bugger. It'll start as Alastor's problem, then he conveniently disappears and Vaggie gives her to "kitty" (it's not that they don't love her, they do, she's just a lot lol). I imagine little Nif and Husk have a similar dynamic to Boo and Sully in Monsters Inc.

The only way to get her to sleep is with radio static. The white noise calms her down. Bonus points if you give her a fluffy plush to hold as well.

🐱 ~ Husk ~ 🐱

Husk doesn't really like children, even of the regressing variety. It's not that he hates them, he'd just prefer to not have to interact with them as much as he can. The most he'll do is babysit, but even then he's a little clueless.

Tends to get stuck with Angel the most, but he prefers Nifty just because he's been around her the most over the years.

Has the bar stocked up with different juices and milk and other drinks for kids. Also has a wide variety of sippy cups with different themes for different littles. Charlie likes the ducky one, Angel has one with crabs on it, and Nifty's are all plain. Everyone uses the space themed ones, though, so he has the most of those.

He has a little nook under the bar that someone could use as a little hiding space as well. If the littles are playing hide and seek and someone goes down there, Husk is the last to snitch.

If you wanna see specific scenarios or hcs about certain characters, feel free to send in an ask!!

[floofyviking]

I suppose introductions are in order. Hi! Floofy here. 31 year old genderfluid fluffball from Norway just trying to figure out who I am and what I want to do in this world. This is a nsfw blog where I will most likely post some stuff now and then of my own making or more, reblog things I find pretty, funny, mesmerising and other fancy words for stuff I like. I have a wide variety of interests when it comes to kinky stuff, so do not be surprised if you encounter anything from wholesome cute content to more cnc based kink. I have open dms (I think I put the settings correct at least), but I might be slow to respond to dms as I am very forgetful at times and IRL sadly does need to take priority lol. I used to have a tumblr profile before, but I deleted it after I burnt out and needed a fresh start. Turns out it is not super healthy for the brain to get hypnotized and conditioned almost every day by several random people lol. I love stuff such as - bondage - sensory deprivation - cnc - Hypnosis - Plastic wrap - Pet play -Dronification, dollification, some bimbofication but depends what and how - drug play (chloroform triggers, kidnap rp etc) - Brainwashing - Conditioning - gags - tease and denial - Mummification - Masks - Shiny clothes, nylon, hose, skin tight clothing that emphasise someone's body ^^ What I do not like is basically people being mean for just the sake of being mean and actually feeling that others are beneath you, so if you do not support basic human decency and human rights... you know, trans rights etc, yeahhhh this miiiight not be the best place for you. Consent is really important to me and while I love cnc, kinky gaslighting and stuff that seem very "intense", it is within the sphere of kink good lords. Outside of kink we all deserve to be treated like individual fellow humans ^^ . I won't make this the world's longest post so I will mostly end with this, but if you have any questions feel free to dm or send me asks and such as I do love to get to know more fellow kinksters around the world and more ^^

[thebroccolination]

Hey so hi! Hi there!

Quick li’l baby gripe:

If there’s one thing I’d adore fans to stop doing in 2025, it’s dog-fighting the queer media industries of Asian countries against each other.

Yeah? Sound good?

Over the last several years, I’ve seen hundreds of English-speaking fans in the comment sections across all social media uplifting China, South Korea, Thailand, Taiwan, Japan, etc. only in order to dunk on another Asian country. This is 1) super unnnecessary, 2) rude, and, indeed, 3) a form of racism.

“China’s censored BLs are the best even without all the gross fetishizing sex scenes in Thai BLs!” (Note: “Fetish” is going on the top shelf until y’all learn what it means.)

“Japanese BLs are superior to the rest of Asia can’t beat the kings of the genre I’m so sorry everything else is subpar lol”

“Japanese BLs are so BORING compared to Thai BLs!!”

“Taiwan’s BLs used to be great but South Korea’s production quality is coming for y’all.”

Like???

You see it, right?

Simplifying a country’s entire queer media industry so you can use it as your own personal Pokémon to take down another country’s entire queer media industry is a phenomenally disrespectful thing to do with your internet access. Like, in the vast majority of cases I’ve seen, these are English-speaking fans who aren’t even from the countries in question. This isn’t “my country is better than yours,” which is a different, childish thing to do; this is, as far as I can tell, mostly western fans pitting Asian countries against each other like they’re sports teams.

Doing this undermines the incredible progress made in Asian queer media and perverts it into a game of fantasy football where people seem to be rooting for one country against another. This is so absurdly cruel and immature for no reason, especially when you’re a guest in these fandoms.

Going forward, I want to see more fans celebrating this beautiful genre. Cheering on the fantastic strides taken across all of Asia. To explore and consume the sheer variety of queer media coming out of every country, not just the most popular titles or the easiest to access. To delve into all the very specific political, cultural, socioeconomic, and historic circumstances behind each industry’s challenges and victories so you appreciate how difficult these series are to produce and market and protect for future generations.

Queer media is a miracle in a world ravaged by the homophobic aftermath and present influence of colonialism, and it only exists thanks to the tireless effort, courage, and passion of people who deserve our accolades. Don’t just passively take these series at surface value. Look into them. Look at the risks people are taking.

This is art and bravery and love, and if you’re going to be here, you should show these people the respect they’re due.

Leave this weird practice of pitting countries against each other in the past. Be part of the joy in everyone’s achievements.

For fuck’s sake.

Thank you.

🏳️‍🌈