Do check it out! If you have the time hehe~ Idk if ya'll updated on RR even if youre all here most of time but yeaahh~ go and peek through RR for just a moment within todaeee~ I'mma post somethingg hehehehhe
2025-09-18 06:48:36 +0000 UTC View PostProject Parfait HQ smelled like fresh paint and overworked air conditioning.
We’d been herded into one of the mid-sized conference rooms. Long table, whiteboard, projector humming faintly, a tray of bottled waters and individually wrapped granola bars set out like peace offerings. Someone had even put little name cards in front of our seats, as if we were at the UN instead of six half-feral internet clowns being trained not to implode on livestream.
The air buzzed with that mi...
A few weeks later, the boxes arrived.
Not one box. Not two boxes. An entire cardboard battalion. Stacked by my door like I was starting a black-market cyber café.
“Okay,” I muttered, hands on my hips, “so either Parfait sent me my new streaming setup… or I’m being evicted and this is what’s left of my belongings.”
I bent to read the labels.
High-Quality Condenser Mic (fragile).
Parfait-Branded Laptop.
F...
[Akane's POV]
The office was still, almost unnaturally so. I liked it that way. Numbers balanced neatly in their columns. Deadlines lined up on my calendar. Every hour accounted for, every task boxed in. That's how I kept myself steady, work divided into grids, leaving no space for disarray.
I had just finished a string of reports when my phone buzzed across the desk. Aoi.
AOI:
They’re working on my character design. Weaver s...
A week later, I was back at Parfait HQ.
Different conference room, same existential dread.
This time, the whiteboard had been replaced with a projector. Less cult meetings, more TED Talk. The room was smaller too, with a long narrow table that felt as if it had been stolen from a law firm liquidation sale. Beige walls, sterile water pitcher sweating in the corner, and those fluorescent overheads buzzing faintly as though a mosquito you couldn’t swat.
Corporate liminal space...
Hey everyone 💙
First of all~ sorry it’s been a while since the last chapter! Life decided to throw me into non-stop training and practical demos, so my brain has basically been living on coffee, highlighters, and panic. 🫠 My priority had to be work for a bit, but I haven’t forgotten you guys (promise).
Now, because I left you hanging, here’s a little surprise to make it up to you: 🎉
👉 Patreon tier members are getting an exclusive peek at a commissioned a...
We made it back to the apartment complex, dust in our hair and gravel still sticking to my palms. Poppy was humming like we hadn’t just trespassed, scaled a deathtrap staircase, and possibly shaved ten years off my life expectancy.
I was about to say something smug about returning her in one piece when I noticed a figure lingering near the building entrance.
Tall. Lean. Corporate-looking even in casual clothes.
My stomach dropped. Oh, great. Serial killer energy. This i...
I’ve been getting suggestions to start a discord space for the VTuber book and my other books. Somewhere we can hang out, talk about the story, share thoughts, and maybe even build a little hub around it.
I think it would be really fun to have that kind of community, but I’ll be honest: I’m not the best at managing a whole server, and with how busy I am, I’m not sure if I could keep it super organized. At the same time, I don’t want to miss out on a space where we can all con...
2025-08-21 04:05:39 +0000 UTC View Post[Poppy's POV]
I don’t even know how I ended up here.
Well, that’s a lie. I do. It’s just easier to pretend I don’t. Pretend the night just swallowed me up and spat me out on this park bench, like fate or whatever decided this was where I belonged.
But the truth is, it started the way it always does: in the hallway, right after lunch. The worst time of day. Everyone’s buzzing and restless, running on cheap pizza, vending machine sugar highs, and...
I should’ve known better than to trust a teenager with directions.
“Where are we even going?” I hissed, half-dragged by the wrist through dimly lit streets. Poppy was marching with all the self-assurance of a cult leader leading her followers straight into bankruptcy.
“You’ll see,” she sang, tugging me toward a brick apartment complex that looked like it hadn’t been inspected since disco died.
I dug my heels in. “Poppy. This is how people get kidnappe...
The pudding bag swung against my leg as I cut through the park near my building. Krei had shoved it into my hands on the way out, muttering something about “don’t eat them all in one sitting,” like I wasn’t already planning to do exactly that.
The park was nearly empty in the evening, the lamplight stretching shadows of the swing set like thin, crooked arms across the concrete. My hoodie smelled faintly like broth from dinner, and my brain was in that post-meal fog where you do...
The restaurant was one of those trendy minimalist places where the chairs looked like art installations, and the menus were printed on paper thicker than my college diploma.
Krei was already there when I arrived, leaning back in his seat like he owned the place or at least like he’d been waiting long enough to mentally purchase it. He didn’t look up from his phone when I slid into the seat across from him.
“I had to wait for twenty minutes,” he said, deadpan.
“I...
Jules is moving.
Not just across town.
Not just “let’s rent a U-Haul and curse at traffic” moving.
This is Brooklyn-to-San-Francisco, start-a-whole-new-life, “goodbye rats in the subway, hello $17 avocado toast” kind of moving.
Which meant this wasn’t just help-a-friend-carry-boxes day. This was carry boxes, listen to Jules explain the philosophical merits of coaxial cables, and quietly reassess your own life choices day.
It ended up being just the ...
It had officially been a month since onboarding started, which meant I was no longer the fresh meat… but also not even close to being cooked through. Half-seared, maybe. Slightly singed on the edges.
The gen group chat had become a lawless swamp in that time. Half the time, it was actual work talk — deadlines, training schedules, “please fill out this form or else management will cry” — and the other half was someone posting a cursed meme at three in the morning. Usually me.<...
OH BTW I FORGOT, I BOUGHT A NEW KIRBEH PLUSH. BUT THEY BROUGHT IT LIEK THIS 😭
It's dying inside hahahahahaha buttt hehe it still looks cute uwu
I have now eeppyy Kirbyy (｡-∀-)♪
🌸 Hi hi!! Edeshei here~ 🌸
So this one isn’t VTuber-related (shock!! horror!! betrayal!! 😭🤣), but I’m working on a little side fic because my brain said “What if dead people… and trauma… but make it fantasy?”
I might post the first chapter here next month, just to test the waters and see if it slaps or flops.
Yes, that means you’re all my beta readers now. No, you don’t get a choice. 🫶✨ owowowowo~
Anyway, here’s the blurb that lives re...
These are drawn by Pet during Ketsusaki dayysss lol
I love the goose and the pudding cart 😭😭
[Krei's POV]
I landed in London Heathrow at 5:42 a.m., Wednesday. Which meant I was already late. Not for the meeting—God forbid I miss one of those—but for the mental math my body had to do figuring out whether it was supposed to feel like breakfast or last call.
The sky was still bleary, smudged in that grey-wool fog that always made London look like it was in the middle of rebooting.
I hadn’t been back in almost three years.
This time...
Sasha had insisted. Loudly. Repeatedly. With the unrelenting energy of a puppy who'd found a tennis ball.
“TEAM BONDDIIINNNGGGG!!” He had yelled, halfway out the door of HQ, nearly clotheslining Basil with his bag.
And that’s how we ended up packed around a large circular hotpot table at Tasty Pot, one of those chaotic restaurants in the Richmond District where the broth is bubbling, the walls are loud, and someone is always screaming in joy or pain or both....
The whiteboard already looked like it had survived a cult meeting.
There were five bullet points, three question marks, a sketch of me falling into a pit labelled algorithm, and a lone note that just said pudding? I hadn’t even started speaking yet.
Weaver tapped a marker against the desk, too casual for someone about to kick off psychological warfare.
“So,” he said, “before we loop in design, rigging, artists, or debut planning, we conceptualize. This is...
(Six years ago)
Akane was not the type to take a day off. Her version of rest usually involved reading court decisions like they were bedtime stories or reorganizing spreadsheets for fun. But there were exceptions. And one of them was football. Real football. The kind with helmets and tackles and a deeply unhealthy emotional attachment to the 49ers.
So there she was, blazer swapped for a Niners windbreaker, sipping espresso from a thermos and sitting in the lower bowl o...
Lunch cleanup vanished like it had been swept away by stagehands. The room reset: no trays, no boxes, just us and a subtle corporate scent of lemon sanitizer and looming expectations.
“Manager introductions begin now,” Rika announced, stepping back into the room with clipboard precision. “One at a time. You'll be called.”
Sasha straightened his collar like he was about to interview for the CEO position. Jules whispered “good luck” to her spicy mayo packet and kissed ...
Lunch came in labelled boxes.
Salmon, chicken, vegetarian. One with extra sides marked Basil (no mayo) in suspiciously elegant handwriting. Weaver had color-coded the labels to match our name tags. Of course he did.
"Mine says ‘Spicy,’” Jules announced proudly. “Let’s gooo. My stomach’s not ready but I am.”
We ate around the same glass conference table like a group project no one volunteered for. Rika had stepped out to take a call. Weaver disappeared to “...
Weaver dimmed the lights.
Like it was a theatre.
Like we were about to debut for real. No stream overlays, no shaky mics—just six nerds and a pink PowerPoint.
The projector clicked.
Slide 1: “WELCOME TO PROJECT PARFAIT ONBOARDING.”
Soft pink. Corporate serif font. A faint watermark of the Parfait logo glowing behind the text like a secret handshake.
Basil leaned in. “That font’s kinda cute. It's givviiing.”
...
Weaver looked up. “Name, background, skills. Keep it professional.”
That last part was aimed directly at Jules. She ignored it.
Amy went first.
“Hi, I’m Amy Faith Baltazar,” she said, sitting with posture so sharp it could cut a budget proposal. “Originally from the Philippines, currently based in Canada. I sing, produce, mix, and cry over Reaper files. I used to be with another company before transferring here.”
Her tone was calm, polished. She’d d...
While we patiently wait for the additional chapters (yes, I see your knives, I’m working on it 😭), here’s some behind-the-scenes draft lore on our new cast of gremlins: Project Parfait’s Generation 4.
Think of this less as a polished character profile, and more like the creative version of sticky notes on a corkboard. These are the initial vibes I wanted each of them to bring to the story as foils, chaos agents, emotional mirrors, or just people who crash into Aoi’s life in ...
YOOOO!!! SOMEONE MADE A FANART OF KETSUSAKI
I WAS SHOOKT AAAAA ITS SOO PRETTYYY!! 😭😭😭🥹🥹🫶🏻 I'M GONNA CRY
Okay but LOOK AT HER. I haven’t recovered since. The fangs. The eyes. The unholy amount of gremlin energy. She looks like she just screamed at her chat for calling her “short” and I love that for her.
To the amazing artist who shared this in the comments, you made my entire week. I'm framing this in my brain forever. Thank you for capturing th...
I arrived ten minutes early to Project Parfait HQ.
Not out of professionalism. Out of spite.
I wasn’t about to be the last one into whatever circle of corporate hell awaited me. If I had to smile through a PowerPoint about "branding" while trying not to sob over a granola bar, I was going to do it with punctual vengeance.
My name was on the iPad at reception. I tapped it with the fear of someone clocking in for war.
The guy at the desk smiled too kindly. “Welco...
Hi everyone!!
Just a quick little life update, so you don’t think I’ve been abducted by raccoons (yet).
I’ll be extra busy this week because Eddie (yes, that’s me, hello) is deep in job interviews! (｀；ω；´)
Apparently, being a fully functioning adult is still a thing I have to do, even though I’d much rather be writing chaos and pudding jokes for you all. But this is really important to me, and I want to give it my absolute best shot.
So, if I’m a li...
I left the restaurant before anyone could pretend to walk me out. The night slapped me in the face. Too cold, too bright, too honest after all that polite poison.
I half-walked, half-trudged through the downtown blocks in my discount flats, hugging my cheap coat like it could hold my insides in place.
I didn’t want to go home yet. Didn’t want to answer Akane’s inevitable “Did you get home safe?” Didn’t want to scroll Twitter and see my old fans posting old clips like...