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cthulhusstepmom · 4 months

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What Is and What Could Be

Down in the bayou it’s never silent. The air is filled with the shrill calls of a million marsh birds, underscored by the harmonies of cicadas, crickets, and whining mosquitos. With a tempo set by croaking bullfrogs and sluggishly churning water, urged along by hooting owls and supported by the bass tones of bellowing gators. The song of the swamp is a busy tune, not unlike the brassy jazz played by those that live there. And if you know how to listen just right, it can tell you no shortage of things.

In a warm and humid tavern a group of adventurers sits around a table, glancing furtively this way and that, squirming slightly under the judgemental stare of the more naturalized citizens. Things don’t often change in the bayou, it’s a wild place, untamed. Civilization has tried to reach within before and without fail it’s been pushed back with prejudice, those that do live here are proud of it and somewhat by design they tend to be a rather insular folk. By and large this means they don’t take kindly to most strangers. Particularly strangers that show up asking questions .

And this crew had been asking plenty, beyond the glaring offense of very clearly not being from around this neck of the woods.

They rolled into town a few days ago, talking like Galticans or similar enough to them, and by the look in their eyes: running from who knows what. They found rooms at one of the nicer inns, kept to themselves and tipped decent enough(it takes more than that to ingratiate yourselves to the folk of Agwé) before they started asking things. Innocuous at first. They wanted to know about the circus going on just out of town, who the mayor was(useless question) and who was really in charge(that one earned them some begrudging respect). Then they dug deeper, asked about other people. Powerful people. People who are none too fond of having their business nosed about.

However, if there’s one thing the people of Agwé like more than being stalwartly unhelpful to those they dislike, it’s watching someone else be stalwartly unhelpful and commentating on it over Sunday brunch and mimosas.

“I’ll tell you what, you go on over to that carnival a ways outta town and I reckon you’ll find who you’re looking for.” A greasy tabaxi offers between wiping tables, battered tail flicking back and forth with a hard to determine emotion. “I wouldn’t dawdle if I were you, it won’t be in town much longer.” The Tabaxi returns to his business with a glinting smile and a few gold pieces that were well worth the trouble. If city slickers wanna go poking beehives it’s not his business to stop them, especially if he’s compensated for handing them the stick.

The carnival itself is in full swing when they arrive, flashing lights and smells both sweet and savory assaulting their senses from the get go. The operation is staffed by a motley crew of goblinoids, bullywugs, humans, kobolds, and anything else one could reasonably imagine; in the corner of her vision, the half elven leader of the group of adventurers even catches sight of what look to be a few pixies working the crowd though the tide of patrons sways and they’re obscured before she can be fully certain.

Games line the thoroughfare all of which, from the looks of a surreptitious investigation, appear to be thoroughly if subtly rigged. Arching above the sea of people is an impressive ferris wheel, bedazzled with twinkling magical lights as it turns and turns. Near it, a calliope booms a cheery tune over the sounds of hawking carnival workers, screaming children, and laughing patrons. A map near the entrance advertises a hall of mirrors, a freak show, and hourly performances in the red and white striped big top including a magic show, fire dancing, beast taming, and a spectacle led by the carnival owner at noon and midnight. Perusing through the carnival, wandering and wondering just how they’re meant to find anyone here let alone the one man they seek, the party save one(a dragonborn with a hand harp strapped to his side) seems oblivious to an odd quirk of this particular carnival. There doesn’t seem to be any clowns.

Their hotheaded gnome companion is easily egged into a game of strength(taunted all the while by a colorful lizardfolk wearing the symbol of the carnival), black eyes glitter with excitement as their minotaur begs to go to the big top to see the beasts in the next show as the small pseudodragon on his shoulder makes similar pleading motions, a disinterested rabbitfolk quickly snatches her hands away from a passing purse under the stern reprimand of an androgynous human with subtly glowing eyes. They come to the conclusion that they should split, agreeing that they will meet at the big top in an hour for the Spectacular, all concluding that should be their best chance to get an audience with who they seek.

As they go their separate ways(one pair to the big top, one pair to the freak show, one making her way down the alley of carnival games and the last picking his way towards the concessions) the party is pulled into the atmosphere of merriment and none of them perceive the very distinct feeling of predatory eyes locked on their every move.

The party never gets a chance to reconvene at the big top.

Instead, throughout the hour each one meets a disparate misfortune. The half elven woman drops to her knees at the edge of the thoroughfare, clutching her head in pain as the hand reaching for a holy symbol falls limp.

Behind her, the human spins about in panic, muttering a few infernal words before a hand is clamped over their mouth and ether slowly calms their struggling limbs.

At a dart game, the dragonborn reaches to claim his prize and suddenly finds himself somewhere else entirely with only a moment to scream before his mind is enveloped in darkness and he falls to the ground fast asleep.

In the large circus tent, the harengon thief is escorted away from her thoroughly distracted friend by a mysterious tabaxi claiming to be security, receiving a sharp blow to the temple as they walk towards a ‘holding cell’.

Within the hall of mirrors, a black and orange hand reaches forth and yanks the furs worn by the gnome; sending her careening through the glass-turned-portal.

Last to go is the minotaur. Enamored by the performance, he couldn’t pass up a chance to speak with the beastmaster of the carnival: an old goblin with an easy smile and a worn wooden ocarina. The only moment of warning he had was a deep hoot behind him before the world went dark.

Some indeterminate time later the human is wrenched from unconsciousness by a familiar, if perpetually jarring, voice shouting within their mind. In swift order they endeavor to wake the others, attempting to take stock of the situation. Their surroundings are dark, what little light is present struggles to illuminate anything through heavy curtains drawn over wide windows. Beneath them is an opulent rug, the color of which is hard to discern in the low light, and under that are tight wooden floorboards that match the walls of this space. What they can see of the walls anyway; most of the space is taken by lavish hangings and shelves of kick knacks, the one closest to them holds a beat up silver cigarette case, a small wooden figure of a two headed vulture, a clockwork dragonfly, a crocheted doily, a hip flask, and a vial that looks to house a small lily pad floating in water amongst a few other things. The air is thick with the scent of quality tobacco and warm food and the ambience it creates might even be homey and welcoming in the right circumstances. Though now, tied securely to chairs with no idea how they got there, it seems rather daunting.

Spatially, the room is quite large. Wide enough for six chairs with displeased adventurers to be lined up side by side with a foot or so of walking room on one side. It’s longer than it is wide, maybe twice over though it’s hard to tell; the windows are positioned opposite each other in the very center of each wall, what light that escapes the curtains quickly stifles in almost absolute darkness before it reveals any sign of a far wall, at least to disadvantaged human eyes. What does catch their gaze and take their breath away are a pair of glowing dull magenta dots in the darkness. No, that’s not quite right. Not dots. Eyes .

From the gasps coming from their left and right, some of the human’s more visually attuned party members have also perceived the eyes, and most likely the creature attached to them, whatever horrific beast it may be.

Soon after they discover their predicament, the air is filled with the muffled noises of the carnivalé outside and underneath the muted cacophony the occasional grunt over a chorus of heavy breathing(the Thing on the other end of the room doesn’t move a single muscle, doesn’t even seem to breathe), a sliver of light falls upon the interior of the wagon.

Creaaaaaaak.

A door on the far side of the wagon opens.

It takes a moment for the adventurers to get their bearing in the new light, when they do they first notice the creature connected to those dully shining eyes.

A large bugbear stands against the far wall. He stands tall, the tips of his bat-like ears almost brushing the ceiling, limbs corded with lithe muscle, and a severe bearing that hints at confidence and ferocity. Running over his arms and up under his sleeves are large spots devoid of any of the dense brown fur that covers the rest of him, a closer look reveals thick rings of angry scar tissue, long healed but clearly agonizing once.

As the bugbear moves away from the opening door he reveals these new variables to their unfortunate situation.

Stepping into the room with twin, thudding, clanks , a large fire genasi drags a pair of thick chains across the floor attached to weathered manacles that cover his forearms. The genasi is broad, with muscles that speak of hard labor and sheer physical power. His face is creased with deep laugh lines though the only smile on his lips at the moment is a malicious smirk as he reaches behind him to hold the door open.

Lastly, a lizardfolk gentleman strolls through the door. He moves with the assured ease of a man who holds all the cards. Wearing a sharp purple suit, hand gripping the amethyst skull atop an ornate cane, the lizardfolk takes his time setting his top hat on a stand in the corner, breezing under the watchful eyes of the bugbear without a care for the sharp claws hovering near his snout. When he finally seats himself in a commanding armchair set front and center of the room, he casually fishes in his suit coat before withdrawing a sleek black cigarette holder and a cigarette from a mother of pearl case. It’s hardly in his hand for more than a second before the genasi at his shoulder provides a light at the tip of his finger before leaning with crossed arms on the back of the chair. As his back makes contact with the leather, a spidery hand covered in fur proffers a crystal tumbler of dark alcohol.

After a long, weighted silence and a luxurious draw from the cigarette, he speaks.

“What a do friends …”

#man in five years when they finish the module i'm so stoked for EVERYTHING to be HAPPY and OKAY #could you imagine these chucklefucks in a serious campaign? really think about it they already commit war crimes #and that's WITH the generally lighthearted fey tomfoolery jfc #also we don't talk about Gideon and Torbek as character foils enough #i can and will write a dissertation on this #p.s. Twig is there too she's just busy with the Inn #once upon a witchlight #legends of avantris #kremy lecroux #morning frost #gideon coal #gricko grimgrin #hootsie grimgrin #torbek #OC mentions but really only as a framing device

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theartsyhognose · 5 months

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Using the art fight prompt list to do some traditional doodles throughout December! I might digitally finish some of my favorites

#arcticfight2023 #morning frost #art fight #drawing #my art #my oc #traditional art #Christmas #OC Luke

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teddie-laundrybear · 7 months

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Evening Frost (Fan character story wip) ---------------------------------------------

“Such untamed power in such a small creature..? And his coat..?” “His mind is weak, but he has his brother's blood… Even though his appearance.. Questions that…” “How unruly… What should we do with him then? We can’t have something so viciously untrained running around,.” The comments were directed at a young tabaxi cub, who looked to only just be entering his teen years. He had a coat that was white and black. He had finished his teachings for the day and was simply waiting for his Seniors to be finished speaking so he could return home. “What a strange child..” Evening wasn’t paying attention to his two seniors speaking. He was crouched down in the snow, his paws were pushed into the soft ice under him, searching for something. His sharp, cornflower eyes stayed focused on that spot… His paws pulled up, clasped together. He opened them, holding a small acorn. “He’s harmless in this state, for now at least, he’s too young.” “Have you spoken to his mother? The Frost family has quite a name, every child has had as much success as the last… if this child truly is as powerful as his blood suggests, she won’t have any problems with him. But.. I suspect he’s a runt. Youngest child, weakest mind, frailest form.” “She says he’s a kind child, though odd, polite like Morning but rather absent minded, and that his eyesight isn't very impressive…” “Did you speak to the Master? He trained the other Frost children. What of this one?” “He says he doesn’t wish to be near him, something about a white pelt being… cursed or.. Unlucky..” “Cursed..? I suppose another legend.."

"Indeed.. He said there were stories.. old stories of our people. He said that at one time, all Mountain dwellers had coats of black. However, one day, Sol took favor in us, and granted the wise of mind a heart of sun, a burning fuel in our core, and it turned our fur into streaks of sunlight…. But some, those who were not wise, didn't receive the gift and became jealous, the cold they felt froze their hearts, giving their fur streaks of ice instead.. and in their better freezing state, they unleashed a cold hell. It lasted three days, before they fled, outnumbered, into the wilderness, becoming nothing more than wild mindless monsters…."

"You always Indulge his stories.."

"He makes it hard not too.."

"I suppose so.. You know, I heard a similar story when I was young.. do you really think a child with that little in his mind could even be a threat?" Evenings tail was swaying side to side as he drew little pictures in the snow with his claw. Small runes he had seen scattered on the architecture around his home. He drew flowers, he hardly ever saw them, but every now and then one would show itself through the thick snow that covered his people's mountains, and they were beautiful… He doodled a little picture of his big brother and hummed, placing the acorn he found on the drawing's head, he smiled to himself.

“I’m really not sure, we aren't big on folktales… but this would be more of tradition… Whatever it is, he can’t stay here. He’s disrupting the order, distracting the citizens, and the Master.”

“So how would you suggest going about it then? The child loves his home and his mother, it will be hard to pry him away.”

“We can do it in secret, when the sun sets. He may be resistant, but no one will be awake to bring attention to it.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

Evening glanced up from where he was crouched down, and looked over at the two adults. Not a word of their conversation had managed to break past the barrier of empty thought in the cubs mind, but now that the background noise was gone, he found himself looking around confused, worried for a moment that he had been left alone, but no, both his seniors were right there still there, watching him intently… The cub stood up and brushed the specks of snow off his robes and hurried over to them.

“Is it time to leave?” The young boy asked while looking up at them both in admiration, he admired anyone older than him… The two older Tabaxi looked down at him and said nothing for a moment, before the oldest spoke, the one who had asked all the questions beforehand..

“Yes. You need to get home before sunset, And the two of us need to speak with your mother.”

“Did.. Did I do something wrong..?” The boy asked nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his robe

“... Of course not. We just need to update her on your teachings…”

Evenings ear flicked as he picked up a hint of dishonesty behind the older one's words, but brushed it off and looked down at the snow, his tail swayed anxiously.. “Okay..” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If you guys want any more let me know!!! I love writing!! (I'll probably do more anyways lol)

#legends of avantris #once upon a witchlight #morning frost #fanfic #character backstory #character background #fan character #oc #Evening Frost :>#My baby

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poolbranch · 2 years

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chilly mornings

#winter #morning #illustration #frost bite #cats #cat #anthro #furry #anthro cat #furry cat #oc #original character #character #character design #myart

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faytelumos · 1 year

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Illusory, pt4, re-up

This is a re-upload because the other Illusory Part 4 up and stopped existing.

Starts out very spicy.

cw: being walked in on, feelings of shame, intrusive memories

first | previous | directory

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Brimstone rolled her hips faster, encouraged by Sam's increasingly loud moans. She sat back further, adjusting her cadence and her angle, and Sam writhed beneath her. Sam reached up, running her hands over Brimstone's scarred stomach and up her marred chest as she pushed her head back. Brimstone leaned forward, catching one of Sam's wrists and pressing it into the sheets, moving harder and drawing her tongue up the side of Sam's neck. Sam gasped, tilting her chin up further, hooking a leg behind Brimstone's hips and bucking up into her.

The bedroom door swung open —

"Mother of God!" Brimstone cried, pulling the blanket to her shoulders —

"Oh, good, you're home," Morning Frost said.

"Icy!" Brimstone squeaked, covering herself and Sam with the blankets. Sam was shaking beneath her, holding a sheet tightly to her face. "You have to knock!"

Morning Frost looked to the side, lifting a hand and shrugging a shoulder as if Brimstone was the one being weird, then reached over and knocked on the wide open door. Sam held the sheet tighter to her face, her breathing loud and ragged as Morning Frost looked directly at Brimstone.

"What?" Brimstone gasped, still hunched forward.

"I just got back," Morning Frost said, jabbing a thumb back towards the living room. He waited a moment as if expecting Brimstone to have anything to say about that. After an awkward pause, he went on: "Have you girls eaten yet?"

Brimstone stared openly at him. Was he serious? How could he not be — there was no way in Hell he didn't understand what he'd just done — what he was actively doing. Even so, he looked as if nothing at all was wrong, standing in the doorway, wearing the baggy exercise clothes he wore to the dispatch center, his hair slightly shower-wet. Sam kept hiding her face, and Brimstone could feel her heartbeat like a jackhammer. And Morning Frost kept waiting, just staring like nothing was wrong.

"No, we haven't," Sam squeaked.

"Oh, good," Morning Frost said, smiling cleverly. "I'll scratch something up for everyone. Feel free to finish up." He grabbed the door handle, flashing his charming smile to Brimstone, and closed the door again.

Brimstone huffed, looking down, panting, her hands shaking. Why hadn't he been mad? He'd walked in — he'd seen them both, but he said absolutely nothing. More than that, he'd offered to make them both something to eat! Why wasn't he mad? Was he just glad Sam wasn't a super? Did he even care about that sort of thing?

Sam started giggling. Brimstone flinched, startled by it, by the idea that anyone could be amused by any of this. Sam moved the sheet aside so she could cover her face with her hands instead, her cheeks beet red, cackling into her palms.

"Morning fucking Frost," she laughed, "just walked in on me." She kept laughing, and Brimstone stared down at her, searching for the joke. Sam pulled a hand away from her face, looking up at Brimstone with teary eyes as Morning Frost started clattering around in the kitchen. "I'm sorry," she gasped, holding back her giggles. "I'm sorry, I just — come here." Sam reached up, running her hands into the back of Brimstone's hair and pulling her down into a sweet — if giggling — kiss. Brimstone pulled back after a moment, still shaking, her head still spinning.

"I, I think we should get dressed," she muttered. Sam gave her a quizzical look, then pursed her lips.

"I think that'd be a bad idea," Sam said. Brimstone looked away, the mud in her stomach getting heavier and more sour by the second. Sam ran her fingers through Brimstone's hair, petting the base of her horns, gently turning Brimstone's head to face her again. "He said we're fine," Sam whispered. "And you're shaking."

Brimstone looked away again, turning her head. Sam let go of her for a moment, then sat up on her elbows. Brimstone's eyes were absolutely burning, and she couldn't for the life of her get a full breath of air. Every part of her body itched. She couldn't get her hands to stop shaking.

"Hey," Sam said gently as Brimstone shifted away. Brimstone glanced over, dislodging one of the tears that had gathered in her eyes. "You're fine. Nothing bad's gonna happen." Sam reached up, brushing another tear off of Brimstone's cheek as it fell. Brimstone sniffed, sitting fully back, putting her hands over her eyes. She just couldn't stop. And now that Sam had acknowledged she was crying, it was getting worse. She flinched bodily when Sam sighed through her nose, the tension in her chest wrenching painfully. "Okay," Sam blurted, "fuck your rules, c'mere."

Suddenly, Sam's arms were wrapped around Brimstone's shoulders, and she was pulled forcefully down atop Sam. They both laid there as the mattress bounced, Sam keeping Brimstone's arms pinned in a tight hug.

Brimstone didn't say anything, just laying still as Sam held her. Her eyes were still wet, the water heavy on her bottom lashes as she looked at the hem of the pillowcase. Morning Frost was still in the kitchen, although he was quieter now that he'd probably gotten out all the dishes he needed. The whole apartment was quiet. But… the memories were kicked back by the warmth of Sam's skin. Brimstone blinked, resting her chin carefully on Sam's shoulder. This wasn't as bad as she'd thought.

"Better?" Sam whispered, running her thumb down the line of Brimstone's spine. Brimstone took in a deep breath, looking up to the scratches her horns had left low on the headboard over the years. Those times were all noisy, all stuffed with feelings and words and smells she'd never experienced in the lab. But even then, sometimes the memories had gotten through.

"Yeah," Brimstone breathed.

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"What's in the utility belt?" Brimstone asked as she and Morning Frost approached the doors of the dispatch center. He looked down at the backpack in his hand, seeing the peak of blue through the partially open zipper.

"Random useful shit," he replied, opening the backpack more and reaching inside. He snatched out the utility belt, then slung the bag over his shoulder in time to hold the door open for Brimstone.

"Oh, thanks."

"Yeah." She held the second door for him, and he just smiled warmly at her before looking into the belt. "Let's see here, I've got a couple hand warmers, in case I go a little nuts—"

Brimstone tried not to flinch too hard at the mental image of frozen bodies.

"—I have a compact winch, which can lift about a thousand pounds as long as I anchor it properly…." He flipped open another pocket as they walked further into the lobby. "Some salt, some saline, a handful of bandages…."

Brimstone looked down, trying to shake the scene from her mind's eye. She put a hand to her face, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to look away from the frosty-dulled red, the frozen chunks, the shattered metal door—

"Hey."

Brimstone flinched, and Morning Frost took his hand off of her shoulder. But he was still close, his eyes still full of concern.

Stay here.

"You don't look too hot," he whispered. Brimstone shook her head, closing her eyes again.

"I'm fine," she breathed around the shiver of fear in her heart. Her skin was cold and clammy, and she was already getting nauseous. Morning Frost moved to be in front of her, putting both hands on her shoulders.

Stay here.

"Breathe," he whispered. "You're okay."

Show me what they did.

"I'm fine," Brimstone said, turning away. She bit down on the nausea, walking away. Not here. Not here. She needed her assignments. She needed to change.

"BB," Morning Frost called, following. Brimstone shook her hands, trying to pull in deeper breaths. She couldn't breathe, her skin was so sticky, she had to shower.

Morning Frost grabbed her by the arm and tugged, and she stumbled as he swept her away, down a hall, towards the bathrooms. They burst into the gender neutral room, and Brimstone flinched and whimpered to see all of the white walls around them. Morning Frost picked her up off of the ground then, pulling her into his chest and floating as he pulled them into a stall and locked the door behind them.

He kept steady pressure, letting them settle on the ground as he held one arm strong across her back, holding her face into his chest with a hand buried in her hair. The walls were black here, the space was small, and Morning Frost was warm.

"Deep breaths," he whispered.

Stay here.

Brimstone was shaking, and in the echoing room she could hear her shallow, rasping breaths. She had a hand fisted in Morning Frost's baggy shirt, the other curled against her chest. He kept her close, and she was surrounded by the smell of him. He was familiar. Always meaning to calm.

We have to get you out of here.

Brimstone squeezed her eyes shut, then snapped them open again. He was here now, she was out of that place, he was back, and he'd never, ever hurt her.

Not physically.

Stay here.

He shifted to hold her tighter, wrapping his arms around her more, pulling her close against him, pinching that spot on her ear. She dipped her head, pressing her forehead to him, letting her eyes slide closed. She gritted her teeth, focusing on him here, on him now.

"You doing okay, BB?" he whispered.

Shoot him!

Stop! No!

"Can you… can you talk about something?" she breathed. He didn't miss a beat.

"I've been thinking about reading again lately," he said. His voice resonated in his chest as he talked, deep and buzzy against her face. She leaned into it. "Lots of people say Fifty Shades was good." Brimstone snorted. When Morning Frost went on, there was a smile in his voice. "I think I'd get a kick out of erotica novels. Hot guys, straightforward plots, something about feminism, y'know." He shrugged slightly as Brimstone huffed.

"…I have a couple already if you wanna dip your toes," she muttered.

"Are they any good?" he asked, the smile in his voice even bigger now. Brimstone shrugged stiffly in his python's hold.

"I'll give you the good ones, first."

"That sounds great," he said. He leaned down then, planting a kiss on her crown, between her horns. He pet the shell of her ear soothingly as he went on. "I'll have to make a whole day out of it. What kinds of things do you do when you relax into an erotica novel?"

"Don't ask me that," Brimstone blurted, burying her face deeper into his chest. He laughed, and the sound of it vibrated through her comfortingly. She smiled despite the heat on her face. He held her for another moment, breathing evenly against her. He was warm, and he smelled like her shower products, and he had his arms around her. She let out a long sigh, leaning bodily into him by way of a hug.

"Ready to go back?" he whispered.

"Yeah, I think so," she said with a nod.

"Okay. Don't look up yet," he said, letting go with one arm to open the stall door. She nodded again, keeping her eyes down and her face against him as he guided her out of the bathroom.

---

#Fayte writes #writeblr #writing #oc: Brimstone #oc: Morning Frost #barely edited #the other two missing parts in this series will be out soon #(I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who even noticed these links were broken)#I'm remembering how much I like this story #I think one day I'll rewrite it better #we'll see

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 10 months

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Memes for some of my (many) Clone OCs!

If these names don't look familiar to you, be sure to check my pinned post under "General Clone Stuff" to find the two stories I've posted about my boys so far if you haven't already. Gosh I love 'em. Sweet little Canvas especially. He's not my first but he's perhaps my most fleshed-out.

No thoughts, only Clone OC brainrot and some hints of their personalities tonight.

#frosts fandom freakouts #star wars #tcw #here have a meme #here have a shitpost #frostfics snippets #(?)#Nice To Meet You Brother #I Have No Mother Only A Brother #clone oc #clone oc: canvas #clone oc: gunnar/faro/cryfar/fluke #clone oc: scruffy #clone oc: cairn #clone oc: carver #and my brain is silly and does not want to cooperate for blorbo content #sorry Hunter we'll get back to your fanfic either before bed or tomorrow morning

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gascansposts · 14 hours

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Apologies friends for the lack of art (in the last two days I believe) in my area we have ha da few power outages due to heavy rain! I would post more art but as of now I have no access to Wi-Fi for my tablet and I have the worst lighting and shittiest camera for traditional arts. I hope you can understand (⁠-⁠_⁠-⁠;⁠)

Have these doodles I made while the power was not out instead

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safyresky · 6 months

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Crystal Springs Chapter 20: Now on ao3!

Happy Thursday everyone! Apparently it's becoming my CS update day ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Anyway, catch Chapter 20 on ao3 RIGHT HECKIN HERE

Chapter 20: Breaking the Chains

Jacqueline opens up about the blackouts. Kasper gets to see Polly. The Man has a very good evening.

The Man has a very VERY good evening. He's very productive. Here's a fun lil excerpt for you all:

Inside the castle, The Man hummed to himself, walking towards his study with a steaming mug of something hot. There was no discernible smell; it was just hot. He sipped, humming happily, as he entered the commandeered parlour and poured the rest of the mug into a smaller cauldron sitting on top of his usual vat. It was filled with a shiny, gold, liquid that had the consistency of molasses. The liquid sparked as the hot stuff hit it; the glow turned purple. "Promising," he said to himself, throwing the mug against the wall behind him. It shattered, the porcelain nearly disintegrating on impact with the stone walls. Still humming, The Man walked around the cauldron, pulling one hand out from behind his back. He made a loose fist; in a swirl of fire, his staff appeared. Positioning himself on the scary side of the cauldron, very much on purpose, he spread his legs apart and gripped the golden staff tightly between both fists. He slammed it onto the floor. The red oval stone glowed, hovering between the crest it rested in. The Man's voice grew deep and echoey as he uttered the spell; the staff crackled and sparked, and on the other side of his vat of lava, a whirl of fire appeared. It whooshed downwards and dissipated, revealing a very startled elf, holding tight to a teddy bear and a small package. "What in the blazes is all of that?" "I was just. I...sorry, I wasn't ready to be. To be." He gestured to the ground below him. "Here." The Man blinked, unamused. "No matter. Did you get the item I requested?" The elf nodded. "I did! Here you go," he said, reaching into his vest pocket (teddy crammed under his arm) and passing The Man the vial. "There's a couple. Definitely hairs. For-for sure." "Let's test that, shall we?" Eagerly The Man grabbed the vial out of the elf's hand. He cracked it open; with a wiggle of his finger, one single hair flew out and hovered. He squinted at it. He mumbled under his breath, drawing a shape in the air. The hair glowed. The Man grinned. "Excellent." He moved his finger in an arc through the air; the hair followed, hovering above the vat and falling when he snapped his fingers.

Intrigued and disturbed and perhaps, oddly enjoying The Man's shenanigans? Give it a read to see where this takes him RIGHT HERE :)

Also, NEW CHAPTER TITLE. Bout to go update it's ff dot net counterpart in a mo.

Want to start reading Crystal Springs from the beginning? Tune in to Prologue: An Encounter HERE on ao3 and HERE on fanfic dot net :)

Story summary below the cut!

It’s been almost a year since Jack Frost thawed and things are looking…well, not so great. Jack’s powers are seemingly gone. Without them, the Dome that keeps the North Pole safe from the cold and its magic controlled is melting, putting everything and everyone magical at risk.

Unable to hide his power shortage any longer, Jack is forced to admit the truth. Thankfully, there is a solution: enacting the Legate Law, bringing Jack and the sister that he hurt so many centuries ago back together again. But when Jacqueline starts experiencing destructive blackouts, the pair are forced to head back home to Crystal Springs, bringing Jack face to face with the rest of the family.

Needless to say, between getting his powers back, helping his sister figure out what in the FROST those blackouts even were, reconciling with his parents, meeting the two even younger siblings he didn’t even KNOW he had, NOT TO MENTION the ancient threat that’s had it out for the ENTIRE Frost family finally making a move?

Saving Christmas (regrettably) is looking to be a little bit…complicated.

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kookslastbutton · 2 months

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Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter one

✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love,

word count: 6.5k+

warnings: oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, body insecurities, fear of being blacklisted, emotionally restrained yoon, unstable parental relationships, conservative parents, rude Hybe executive that should be fired, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, and cute yoon and oc interactions bc yeah....its thier first time actually meeting so it must be cute!

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: YAHHH chapter one!! Ok i apologize if the meeting is so long and drawn out...I really tried to make it fun but so much info is needed too haha. Anyway this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

Series Masterlist | next chapter >>

Winter in Seoul feels like stepping onto the set of your most beloved holiday film.

As the brisk air wraps around you, delicate snowflakes gather atop your head, urging you to cocoon in your finest wool trench coat. Yet, despite the chill, the sight of frost-bitten trees basking in the morning's golden rays offers a source of warmth and delight. Perhaps the most radiant tree of them all is the towering Christmas tree that sits proudly in the heart of the city. Adorned with shimmering red and gold baubles, the giant evergreen catches the eye of every person that walks by–both tourists and locals alike.

Nearby shopping malls buzz with holiday fervor too as shoppers scour for treasures, couples engage in friendly competition to find the ultimate gift, and children line up to take their picture with Santa. But the best part is when night falls. The whole city comes alive with joy and laughter as loved ones meet one another on the ice-skating rinks, while karaoke bars echo tipsy renditions of timeless songs sung by overworked professionals, each with a bottle of soju in hand.

Yes, Seoul is a place for making memories and you’re in the thick of it.

Having been in the city for three years, one might assume you’ve become well accustomed to the energy of the season. You've really grown to love it here. But adjusting to the new environment is still proving to be a challenge, the most outstanding being the prevailing beauty standards.

Massive billboards featuring stunning models serve as constant reminders of the type of beauty one should aim to achieve as you commute to work. Impossible to miss are the shining examples themselves – iconic k-pop groups Seventeen, Red Velvet, EXO, BlackPink, Mamamoo, TXT, and of course BTS plastered on the side of every flat surface imaginable. You’re not exactly complaining about that aspect as you’ve helped design a good handful of them as a top marketing and advertising professional. But the strict image of what constitutes a beautiful and worthy individual weighs on you more than you’d like.

While a conventional body type isn’t what you’ve been given in this life, you don’t consider yourself to be completely unattractive either. Having high cheekbones, a strong jawline, striking light brown eyes, good enough ass, and a full chest shouldn’t classify as undesirable. Still, you wish you’d adopt this more body positive mindset rather than your current overthinking one. It’s easier said than done, being that you not only see idols everyday on the streets in digital form but at work as well.

You continue further into city until a set of tall, glass doors meet you mere steps away. You tilt your head back to catch the name of the skyscraper before nearing the building’s sturdy, silver handle.

BigHit Music.

Feeling its cool metal under your fingertips, the door swings open with an easier pull than imagined to welcome you into the bustling lobby. You feel a rush of confidence return to you upon entering– this is your domain, this is where you truly shine.

“Did you get the files I sent to you?”

The woman nods her head in affirmation while sweeping a few pieces of her long, silky hair behind an ear. To strangers, she appears to look about 24 which is only four years younger than yourself but nonetheless she’s the same age as you. Hei-Ran is her name, meaning “graceful orchid” according to Korean translation.

Hei-ran is one of Hybe’s newest hires and based on her experience, a near perfect fit to being South Korean boy group Tomorrow X Together’s new marketing manager. Until about three months ago, this had been your job.

You never imagined giving up the position after three years of working in the role. But with December right around the corner Hybe had other plans for you.

"Graduated summa cum laude with a bachelors degree in BTech in Electrical and Electronics Engineering and a MBA in Marketing from NYU Stern. You worked two years as a brand manager for U.S record label Atlantic Records immediately after graduating, and are now working at BigHit Music as a marketing manager for TXT including liaison with their global marketing team.”

You recall Bang PD's voice vibrate in the back of your mind from mid-August. You thought you were called into his office to discuss details of TXT’s latest promo, so having your resume read back to you was a sweeping curve ball. Your determination must have far exceeded the heaviness you felt in your chest because before you knew it you, you were shaking hands with your boss in acceptance of your role – the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour.

The tedious knot that’s formed in the nape of your neck reminds you that as surreal as the situation might be, it’s undeniably real.

Months spent drafting a comprehensive marketing proposal for D-Day; often until the wee hours of the night, inevitably takes its toll on even the mightiest of warriors. An entire new team of fifty people, all of who you’ll be in charge of orchestrating for the next eight months, doesn’t provide much to relief either.

You’re excited nevertheless. Working with one of the most respected artists in the music industry is an opportunity you couldn’t let slip by, especially since the album’s rock-inspired genre aligns closely with your own music taste.

“Thank you so much for helping me get settled __,” Hei-ran’s gentle voice returns you to the present. “I appreciate the time you’ve taken these last few months to train me despite the tight deadlines you have.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “It’s no problem at all and if there’s anything you need in the future, feel free to give me a call or stop by my office.”

“On the 16th floor right?”

“1656A. Take a left off the elevator and walk to the end of the first hallway. The door on the right is mine.”

Referring to any room on the 16th floor as your own is something you don’t take lightly. For one the offices are double the size of any other office spaces in the building. Yours in particular has a giant skyscraper window draped with heavy white curtains. Secondly, the floor above is the 17th floor which is exclusive to Hybe artists only.

"How's the proposal coming along, by the way?" Her curiosity is palpable, genuine in its nature. You’ve always appreciated that in an individual.

“It’s done,” you respond. “Only thing left to do is to prepare for our meeting with C-suite executives next Monday. It’s nearly perfect as is, but the presentation could use a bit of refining in terms of organization.”

Hei-ran is silent for a moment longer than usual before her next inquiry, which is undoubtedly the question on both of your minds. “I can't help but wonder what it'll be like to meet him for the first time,” she muses.

You don’t bother asking for clarification on who the “him” is; you’re already well aware that it’s Min Yoongi. The same subject has managed to intrude your own thoughts more and more as the date of meeting him draws closer. It's peculiar honestly, considering you’ve encountered him before.

Granted, it was only a small handful of times the hallway, both heading in opposite directions. Min Yoongi typically greeted you with a hoarse 'Good Morning' those instances, along with a curt nod of his head. You would nod back with a brief 'Morning' yourself. Deep down you feel he'd make a quality friend, though it's only a premonition. It’s not like you actually know much about him beyond those small exchanges.

"I'm not sure what to expect, honestly," you admit. "I imagine it'll be similar to previous professional collaborations—composed, focused, and intense. D-Day is poised to become a global sensation for the next year, so it's going to need our full, undivided attention."

Hei-ran gives a knowing nod. “Good luck __,” she wishes you well as you head towards the elevator doors. Breaks over, back to work.

After another late-night prep session for Monday’s D-Day proposal, you trudge through your apartment door well past 8:30 pm with an empty stomach and a throbbing headache. Good news is that your graphic design team seems to be well on track with their album mockups ready to present.

The same can’t be said for your U.S. promo team however, who required additional guidance on their projects. The social media team was in a similar boat. Somehow several of their members lost track of time and were convinced the proposal was still two weeks away.

Despite the hiccups, you managed to tie up the loose ends, but it meant that none of you got to leave early.

When you finally get to curl up in your fluffy sofa, a loud, exasperated sigh leaves your lips. Your lids flutter shut too as you rest your head against the soft cushion. Silently, you make one last mental rundown of all the tasks you checked off today.

Did you miss anything?

D-Day is the most crucial project you’ve ever taken charge of—you need it to be flawless.

When nothing pressing comes to mind, you grab the tv remote from your dark oak coffee table and aimlessly flip through the channels. You’ll unwind for an hour and then call it a night.

Ten minutes into an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and the light chime of your phone's notification bell catches your ear.

Tae 💚: Haven’t heard from you all day. Everything alright?

Taehyung, your best friend. You smile fondly at his message as your thumbs hover over the reply button. He's always checking in on you. You and Taehyung have been friends ever since you first moved to Seoul and started working at Hybe. You didn't expect your friendship to become this strong, but both of you are sociable individuals, which led to discovering several unexpected commonalities. One of those is a shared love for jazz, which has been one of your all-time favorite genres for as long as you can remember.

You: yeah, I’m good. Just tired. Been working on D-Day's proposal for months and finally got it fully prepped for.

Tae 💚: Well, that's amazing news! You feel good about it?

You: I don't know. I’m definitely ready for this project but I’m also starting to feel a little burned out. The proposal is only the beginning you know, and it's already taking the wind out of me.

Tae 💚: Sorry to hear that 😞 I'm sure it must be draining, but I also know this is your territory. No one is more fit to head this project than you. Everyone thinks so. How about you take the weekend to rest?

You: Yeah...I'm watching B99 rn

Tae 💚: B99?! Without me?

You can't help but giggle. Somehow over the course of three years you've roped your best friend into becoming obsessed with your mindless sitcoms. You've done more than a handful of binge watching together, until all hours of the night.

You: Wanna come over for an hour?

The company might be nice.

Tae 💚: Be there in 20 🏃

Your door bells rings exactly twenty minutes after you and Taehyng finish exchanging texts. He's so prompt it scares you sometimes.

“Hey.” His deep, baritone voice greets you first, along with a friendly hug. Taehyung slips his snow covered boots off upon entering your apartment and hangs his wool jacket on your coat rack. His limited edition Gucci scarf is next. Taehyung loves the winter as it’s the time he can wear his most luxurious clothes.

“What’s this?” You peak inside a brown paper bag that Taehyung has conveniently set on your kitchen countertop. He flashes you a playful grin and gestures you to open it. Naturally, you're suspicious but it all washes away when a new, unopened bottle of whiskey presents itself. “Oh my god, you didn’t!" You swat his arm in a rush of excitement.

“I had to!" Taehyung opens a kitchen cupboard and grabs a glass from the top shelf. He's been in your apartment enough times that he’s grown comfortable with your place. That and he's also your best friend.

"With all the recent events you've had going on, I think it calls for a celebration." Taehyung expertly pours you a glass of the smooth, rich liquor and offers it to you.

“Thank you, Tae," you say, taking the glass from his hand. "Come sit down. Jake's about to sing I Want It That Way with the police lineup.” Taehyung pours himself a glass of Pinot Noir and follows your lead.

After about forty minutes of sitcoms and booze with your best friend you begin to feel yourself relaxing. Whatever challenges lies ahead, you know you'll be able to handle them one whiskey at a time.

All stream of thought is interrupted when your phone dings off again. It's now half past 9, who on earth is trying to reach you?

Fuck.

You tighten the grip on your phone as soon aa the message appears. Taehyung, previously occupied by the end credit scene, catches the sudden shift in your demeanor and calls your name but he's inaudible to you.

Mom: It’s been almost two weeks since we last heard from you. We know you're busy but your father and I want to know if you’ll be coming home. The holidays are coming up right? Why don't you use some of that time to come see us? There's someone we want you to meet.

"__, who is it?" Taehyung's voice manages to break your intense concentration.

“Just my mom.” You answer briefly, still averting eye contact.

“What’d she say?”

“She wants me to come home for the holidays.” You shut your phone off in an effort to calm yourself.

Unlike Taehyung your relationship with your parents has always been rocky. Expectations are set high from birth and you never see eye to eye. Likely, the only accomplishment that's earned genuine praise from them was when you accepted your initial job proposal with Hybe. A respectable career is only second to health to them after all. Your father was more torn with the news that you’d be moving hundreds of miles away than your mom however, not that you’re surprised.

Of course while having a healthy and respectable career is priority for your parents, there is no mistake that their greatest wish is to see their daughter married. A stable man with ample resources to provide her a secure home and healthy children is preferable.

You love your parents and you'll always be there for them, but you must admit that their traditional outlook is one you can never live up to. They tried setting you up dozens of times before, and tonight's request to have you come home "for the holidays to meet someone” is simply another attempt to marry you off.

Yes, you would like some sort of companionship in your life and you hope if you find it that they’ll approve. But giving your hand in marriage to the first notable suitor isn't your forte. You consider yourself to be an independent woman with a tender heart, and you'd rather be single for the entirety of your life than be forced into another obligation.

Preserving your independence is highly important to you. So no, you draw the line when it comes to relational affairs.

If only you could be firm and repeat all the above to them aloud, rather than within your own head— if only.

“So are you gonna go?"

You don't respond immediately, still weighing out your options. "Not sure," you murmur. "I don't really want to but maybe I should. I haven't gone home to see my parents since last year."

Taehyung recognizes the growing tension in your voice as well as the flushed expression playing on your face. He wishes he could take it all away but instead he moves closer to your side of the sofa and lets you rest your head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He's silent for a moment before continuing. "Why don't you tell them you can't go because of work? There must be a number of things you'll need to get ahead of for Yoongi's album."

"True. But it's too easy, they won't buy that. I have to go."

"What if you say I invited you to celebrate with my family this year? We're going to a nice, cozy cabin a few hours north of here for Christmas."

The offer is temping and you know he means it but it's also not enough.

"No," you reject. "They'll think we're dating and ask to meet you."

"I'll do it!" Taehyung's voice lifts into a more playful tone, earning a soft chuckle from you.

"Very cute Taetae, but no. Neither of us are going to say 'that was a good idea' in the end, trust me. I'll have to make this decision on my own."

Taehyung grimaces slightly at your last choice of words. "I really think you should consider telling them you can't due to a full schedule. We don't get that much time off at the company any way. Don't your parents live at least 7-10 hours away? Come on, spend the holidays with me and the guys. Plus, it'll be my birthday soon. I want you there at my party."

When you look at your best friend to gently scold him for not so sneakily using the guilt tripping technique, he's pouting. Like a baby. Not even you can resist him with that face on.

"Fine. I'll think about it."

"Good," Taehyung chirps and snatches the tv remote to flip through episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. "I want you to be around those closest to you, especially around the holidays. You're my badass best friend who deserves more than some stupid forced marriage to a guy with an unhealthy alpha male complex. Should we top the night off with one more episode by the way?"

You nod and Taehyung hits play on the remote. "Thank you," you coo, feeling a tad better.

The weekend is a blur at best and you’re back at the office before you realize. Of course this is no ordinary work day however, given that today signifies the day you officially start work as D-Day’s marketing director. You’ve been perfecting every detail of the proposal like a madman since the beginning, meticulously obessing over every element. Your new team members must have a pretty eye-opening understanding of what it’ll be like having you as a lead for the next year–you pity them to be honest.

Between your fingers clutches a small tube of lip balm, berry flavored with a faint tint to match. You love chapstick for some odd, inexplainable reason and you felt the need to apply a generous amount of it on your lips for good luck.

“No one’s here yet,” Yi-joon, one of the members of your graphic design team, speaks first upon stepping foot into your assigned conference room. Others hum, unsurprised. Being the ones leading the presentation, you’d be startled if anyone actually arrived beforehand.

A grand mahogany table, seating up to 14 individuals, boasts itself to you in the middle of the room with every chair lined in genuine black leather. Traditional seating arrangements have one chair at the head of the table, but today’s meeting has two, both positioned to face the wide presentation screen at the opposite end.

Undoubtably, they’re reserved for Bang PD and Min Yoongi.

A momentary shiver courses down your spine, yet fades quick when one of your team members asks if anyone's seen the remote to the projector. There’s no time for nerves to be acting up, you remind yourself calmly. Only 15 minutes remain until every C-suite executive in Hybe congregates into the room.

With a composed demeanor, you swiftly gather your thoughts and respond, "Try checking inside the podium. It's likely close by, but if not, we can always power it on manually." You then start delegating tasks to the rest of your team, mentally rehearsing key points of the proposal between each instruction.

Time appears to have vanished in the blink of an eye because in a matter of seconds a gentle breeze slips through the conference door, accompanied by the arrival of several Hybe executives. You offer a polite "good morning," which is briefly reciprocated as they take their respective seats around the conference table.

You count twelve at the table in total, including your own team.

"Sajangnim should be here in about–"

Hybe's Chief Finance Officer doesn't get to finish his sentence when an older gentleman in a freshly pressed suit walks through the door, fully immersed in conversation. The person following close behind him is none other than the man of the hour himself–Min Yoongi, fitted in a clean white dress shirt that's unbuttoned at the collar and sleeves rolled to the elbows. His soft, raven hair falls gently in front of his eyes, framing his face a little too well.

Unexpectedly, both your gazes shift from Bang PD and onto one another. His dark, intense eyes pierce through you as they observe you from the opposite side of the room. You're certain he recognizes you from your previous shared encounters, though you don't have the slightest clue what he's thinking. Min Yoongi has been known to be many things, but an open book isn't one of them.

He then walks in your direction until he's directly toe to toe with you for the very first time. Completely against your wishes, you feel all the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. You've never officially met before.

"It's nice to finally meet you __-nim. Those nods we give each other in the hallway hardly count as a proper introduction." He extends a hand to you, offering you a sturdy handshake which you accept.

"Absolutely, it's a pleasure to meet you as well Min PD-nim," you say, smiling warmly. "I'm looking forward to working with you on your new album. I truly appreciate the opportunity."

For a split second, Yoongi allows his professional demeanor drop. "I should be the one thanking you. You'll be the one leading this whole operation right? So I'll be in your care."

You want to respond with gratitude, but you're not given the chance due to an authoritative voice speaking up from behind.

"Min PD-nim," Hybe's Vice President calls out to the man in front of you, requesting his attention.

Yoongi is hesitant to leave you mid-conversation but you assure him that it's alright. "Please, feel free to take a seat," you offer. "The presentations will begin soon."

A small, subtle smile graces Yoongi's lips before he turns around to take his seat beside Bang PD at the head of the table. He engages in small talk with Hybe's Vice President who's conveniently seated across from him. Yet despite their conversation, he's only half focused; his eyes repeatedly wandering back to you. At this point, however, you've already stopped looking at him.

"Good morning, all," you address the room when the time comes to commence the meeting. "We'll be getting started now that everyone's here. I'm sending down samples of the album design our graphics team has created for D-Day. Please pass them along." You hand the stack of copies to Hybe's Chief Technology Officer who smiles courteously.

"On behalf of my team and me, I want to thank you for joining us today to discuss our marketing strategy for Min PD-nim's upcoming D-Day album. Our agenda will be as follows," you guide everyone's attention to the presentation board, which provides a rundown of all the points you plan to cover for the remainder of the meeting.

"Let's begin with introductions. My name is ___ ___, I hold a Bachelor's degree in Electrical and Electronics Engineering from NYU Stern, as well as an MBA in Marketing. Over the past five years, I've worked in the music industry as a marketing manager. Three of those years were spent here at Hybe. The recent promotional campaign for TXT's The Chaos Chapter was lead by my previous team and me, resulting in a positive return on investment. Now, with a new team, I aim to achieve similar success with Min PD-nim's D-Day album."

Once you finish your introduction, you introduce each member of your team. This is soon followed by a brief introduction from each c-suite executive.

The whole room falls silent when you begin diving into the bulk of the proposal; every measurable objective, goal, and market analysis is shared for D-Day. When it comes time to present the brand guide and album design, you invite your graphics team to speak.

"You'll notice that we have two versions of Min PD-nim's albums on the sheet in front of you," Yi-joon refers to the mockups you handed out earlier. A few executives nod quietly as they study the proposed album packaging while Yoongi leans over to Bang PD. He's whispering something but you're far to distant away to hear. His expressions aren't telling either.

Does he like it? Does he not? You don't know.

Nevertheless, you give a subtle smile to Yi-joon as encouragement to continue.

"We've opted for a sleek, pitch-black design for the first version, and a dusty brown for the second. The first version symbolizes the past, characterized by societal expectations and internal struggles, while the second represents the present and future, conveying a message of liberation. To complement these themes, we've selected a bold and daring font to exude the album's transparency. This design consistency extends to the album's contents; for instance, lyrical cards will reflect the respective color and style of the version they belong to."

Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer appears to be in approval with the entirety of the plan so far, yet it's short lived when a low voice interrupts.

"I think the vision of album's design aligns closely with mine, so I like what I see in front of me." Yoongi pauses and places the mockup on the table. "There's one aspect that I'd like to discuss in hopes of some insight however. I've been mauling over it for a while now."

"I'll do my best to–" Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer opens his mouth to respond yet closes it immediately when he notices Yoongi's gaze sharply shifts to you. It's a signal that it's your insight he specifically requests.

"Please go on," you reply.

"Regarding the name under which the album should be released, should it be 'Agust D' or 'Suga'? I'm personally biased towards Agust D because it holds more weight for me. It's close to my heart and the stories I have to tell as Agust D are heavier than those of Suga, right? The D even stands for Daegu, my hometown where I grew up and where my parents still live. Suga on the other hand is my stage name, which I have some identity in as well."

You don't answer immediately, preferring to carefully process everything he's said. Your team has already proposed to release the album under 'Agust D', yet he makes a valid point that 'Suga' is also a part of him.

"I understand that releasing the album under 'Suga' has its merit. However, I still support the original idea of releasing it under 'Agust D'. As you've mentioned, the name carries a deeper meaning, evoking memories, emotions, trials, and tribulations. I'd also like to emphasize that by releasing D-Day under 'Agust D', you can showcase who the real Agust D is. The collaboration with IU in People Pt. 2 already has you one step in that door."

Like you, Yoongi considers your words cautiously, weighing them in his mind. "Thank you ___-nim," he finally speaks. "Your perspective is reassuring. We'll proceed with releasing the album under 'Agust D'.

Following your short discussion, the graphics team continues presenting their design materials. Minor comments are made by Hybe executives, but Yoongi doesn't comment again until half-way into the social media segment.

"Why do we need to schedule this many Weverse Lives? People might get tired of seeing my face after so many in a row. ARMY will read, 'Min Yoongi started a live' and say to their friends, 'This is the fifth time in a row, is he in love with his own voice or something?'." His joke sparks a light in the room as Bang PD gives a chuckle.

"I don't think that's going to be an issue for you Yoongi," he replies. "Don't you know the strength of your own fanbase?" Bang PD's statement is undeniable. Everyone in the room is well aware of Min Yoongi's international fanbase who willingly stay up all hours of the night just to catch a glimpse of him. In fact, rather than seeing less of him, they hope to receive his live notifications more, as Yoongi isn't as active on Weverse as other idols.

It's clear that compliments like these aren't easy for Yoongi to take though, judging by the flushed look that subtly sweeps over his face. You'd react the same way to be honest.

"If I may Min PD-nim," you speak up, deciding to offer an alternative plan. "Leveraging Weverse Live to help promote D-Day will draw significant international engagement. We know that time differences pose to be a challenge which is why we proposed an increase of live sessions per week. However, we understand that going live this often might be exhausting. Would you consider reducing the frequency to once or twice a week instead?"

"I'm open to once a week but didn't we film the 'Suga: Road to D-Day' documentary for a similar reason? Won't it be too much to add more than two Weverse Lives throughout the entire promotional phase?" Yoongi's challenge is met with an unanimous hum of support from his fellow executives. You'd feel intimidated if you didn't already have a justification mapped out.

"The objective behind releasing 'Suga: Road to D-Day' on Disney+ differs from that of Weverse Lives," you rebuttal confidently. "While the documentary presents a structured behind-the-scenes view of D-Day's development, the Lives focus on building hype among your existing fans who know you well, will spread the word to their peers, and will likely pre-order the album. As you're aware, Lives are more personal and stripped down, allowing your fanbase to feel closer to you."

Thinking of no further objectives, Yoongi, still somewhat unsure, accepts your suggestion. "Once a week will be fine then. While we're still on the topic, do we know when 'Suga: Road to D-Day' is set to release on Disney+?"

"Our digital marketing and promo team will be reviewing the specifics of that soon," you inform. "Right now we have the documentary releasing April 23 of next year. The poster for the film will release a week and a half earlier on the 12th."

Rather than furthering the discussion, Yoongi sends an understanding nod your way which allows the social media team to resume their portion of the proposal. Recording more Weverse Lives than usual remains a pain point for him, but he's willing to move forward if it means connecting with his fanbase.

Alast, after what seems like three hours of social media; followed by financing & budget talk, the last team to present their material takes lead of the meeting.

"We'd like to provide a timeline for D-Day's promo schedule as a way to wrap up today's proposal," So-hyun from your digital marketing and promos team explains. "Promotions will begin April 10, 2023 and will run until April 25th. During this time the album's track list, concept photos, MV Teaser, and official MV will drop. As far as concert schedule, we're proposing April 26-June 24. These dates include U.S, Asia, and Korea Tours."

"We might need to rethink concert dates but for now I'm on onboard." Yoongi remains brief in his interjection, allowing So-hyun to continue.

"As far as other marketing channels, we plan to implement both print and digital methods including billboards, banners, paid search ads, and YouTube. We'd also like to reach out to a variety of magazines like Rolling Stones Magazine for interviews. If we want to extend our global reach even further, we can book a time slot on the Jimmy Fallon Show. Bare in mind that if we go this route, we'll need to decide fairly quick, as slots are in high demand."

You notice Bang PD whispering amongst Yoongi and his Chief Finance Officer when Jimmy Fallon is mentioned. Yoongi seems the least interested. Perhaps he isn't fond of being front and center of talk shows, you guess.

"When will we need a decision for the Jimmy Fallon Show?" Bang PD inquires for the group.

"No later than three weeks from now," So-hyun answers. "It's a tight deadline but it can been done if we get the official go."

Bang PD directs his attention to Yoongi who's chosen to be silent in this conversation. "What do you think, Yoongi? It's your call."

"Maybe," he says, "give me a day or two to think on it."

Another ten minutes of productive overview with your promos team pass and soon, you're standing up to adjourn the meeting. You have to admit that out of all the proposals you've given in your career, this goes right to the top.

Your team was phenomenal today, and despite the the fact that several Hybe executives are biting at the bit to finally go on their lunch break, you feel confident that everyone is leaving on the same page.

"Min PD-nim."

You're ears inevitably pick up the conversation in front of you as you make your way out of the conference room. Yoongi and his Chief Financial Officer are running through some quick numbers only a few steps steps ahead, but with everyone simultaneously rushing in the same direction, neither must have realized you were within earshot.

"There's no doubt that she's good at what she does," Hybe's Chief Financial Officer continues. "Still, it's hard to believe that she's only 27 or 28. A person should take better care of themselves don't you agree? Like our Eunchae for example."

If there was a way to erase what you just heard, you'd do so, because in an instant, all previous successes you felt from today's proposal shatters to the ground. You're no stranger to receiving these sorts of comments about your appearance, yet it leaves your confidence fleeting, along with any amount of resilience you've built.

Blinking back the tears that threaten to spill, you exit the conference room the first chance you get. You have no desire to stick around for Yoongi's reply.

Not long after you leave does you phone ring off.

Tae 💚: Hey! How's the meeting going? Still available to get lunch this afternoon? I'm heading to the cafeteria as I type this.

You: It went okay. But I don't think I'll be coming to lunch, just a lot to do. I'm also not that hungry.

You second-guess how convincing your message is, knowing that it's your best friend on the other line. Regardless, it's the only words you can come up with right now. You really do have a lot of work ahead of you though, at least that part is true.

Tae 💚: Are you sure? I was looking forward on hearing how the meeting went! Wasn't there something you had to give me too?

The meaning of the last line suddenly dawns on you as you make your way down the long hallway. How could you forget? You made Taehyung one of his favorite foods to surprise him for lunch; Japchae, a sweet and savory dish of stir-fried glass noodles and vegetables.

You: Right, sorry it slipped from my mind for a second. I'll meet you in the cafeteria to give it to you.

"Why won't you stay and eat with me?" Taehyung devours the homemade Japchae you made for him with delight, a pair of chopsticks clamped in his hand.

"I don't have much of an appetite, Tae."

You've already told him this twice already, clarifying that you'd be heading back to your office once you deliver his food. Evidently, he's not letting you slip away easily.

"Then take a break with me instead, even if it's only for ten minutes." You watch as your best friend swiftly pulls out the chair next to him from under the table, gesturing you to sit. "Tell me what's got you down," he says. "Did Yoongi say something to you? He can be a bit too outspoken with his opinions sometimes."

Feeling defeated, you slide into the chair. "No, the meeting was fine. I'm just overthinking something that happened."

You then proceed to explain what you overheard Hybe's Chief Finance Officer say about you from earlier, that you didn't look healthy enough for your age and using Eunchae as an example. The scowl that appears on Taehyung's face as you retell the incident is unmistakable–he's clearly pissed.

"First of all," Taehyung starts once you finish, jaw clenched. "Eunchae is 17 and is a part of a Korean girl group. She has an entire team dedicated to making sure her appearance is flawless. It's the idol life; trust me, I'm well acquainted with it, so it's not a fair comparison. Secondly, Hybe's CFO is an asshole who I'd replace in a day. I don't want you letting him make you feel insignificant just because you don't conform to his narrow idea of how a woman should look."

You appreciate Taehyung's efforts to cheer you up, though you remain unaffected. Besides, he still isn't aware of Yoongi's involvement since you purposely left that detail out due to their close friendship.

"Yeah, I don't know. We don't have to talk about it anymore." You decide to dismiss the topic entirely and reach for your phone, along with a pair of earbuds bundled in your pocket. "Wanna listen to something?"

Music has always bonded you and Taehyung's friendship, as you've frequently found yourselves fully immersed in timeless songs from King of Leon and Led Zeppelin together. Taehyung nearly accepts the offer to listen with you once again, but then he freezes all movement. An eager grin follows close after.

"Hyung!" His voice echos though the room, earning the attention of Min Yoongi who's just entered the cafeteria. This time, you feel nothing but discomfort when the man looks your way.

"I have some material I need to review from my promo team. I'll text you later, okay?" You leave your best friend no time to reply as you quickly rise from your chair, stick your phone in your pant pocket, and head for the nearest exit. Yoongi attempts to make eye contact with you on your way out, but you avoid it completely.

When he approaches Taehyung, he acknowledges your semi-odd behavior. "I didn't mean to make her leave," he states, joining the younger at the table.

Taehyung offers a light shrug in response. "Don't worry, you didn't. She had other matters to get to. Something with her team members I think."

Yoongi grabs a fresh clementine from a nearby fruit bowl and beings peeling it little by little. "You two must be pretty close if you're having your lunches together."

It's not hard for Taehyung to read between the lines of what his member is insinuating.

"We've been friends for a while," he clarifies. "Just friends, nothing else."

a/n: Hope you enjoyed! Lmk what you think 🥰

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