#I'll be sure to share a picture when I get this printed on a mug!

[toxictoxicities]

Emergence TrafficLight mug design- Imma get it printed for my birthday >:)

Can't wait to have it RFTYGHU

[mollyencrypted]

A03 is being a fuck and won't let me upload my last Bingo entry, for 'Shatterdome Food Sucks', so, in an attempt to get it in whilst it's still 31/08 somewhere (I think), I'll post it here. (I was, regrettably, a minute late finishing in my own timezone.)

"So, you're the photographer, huh?" Yancy drawled.

The woman nodded, blonde curls bouncing with the movement. "Felicity Kincaid," she said brightly, holding out a hand, "here to document Shatterdome life for the folks back home."

"Yancy Becket", he replied, "here to show you Shatterdome life the way I see it."

"And to steer me and my camera away from anything classified, right?" She didn't seem irritated, simply amused.

Yancy shrugged. "Pretty sure everything here's already been in Wired. Lightcap's got her projects, but those are in other 'Domes. Nothing of interest in Anchorage."

"There's plenty of interest in Anchorage," said Flicker. "There's the Ranger program, for one."

"And there's the Ranger program in Lima too," Yancy countered.

"Is that where Lightcap's projects are, then?" Flicker asked innocently.

"Nope," said Yancy, holding up a finger to 'shush' her. "You're not getting it out of me that easily. Besides, anything I could tell you would just be a guess."

"Relax, I'm just a photographer," she said, smiling. "The only things I'm writing are captions, and I don't think they'll even print those. Your secrets are all safe with me."

Yancy sighed.

"Besides, I've got all day to get them out of you."

-

Flicker looked around the small room curiously, snapping pictures of Raleigh's photo wall and the bomber jacket slung across Yancy's shitty desk chair. At least he'd put his socks and underwear away (or at least shoved them in the nearest drawer, which was pretty much the same thing), and at least Raleigh was, by some miracle, not there bothering Flicker by mugging for the camera. 

"I'm surprised you only have to share with your brother," said Flicker.

"Pilot privilege," said Yancy, trying to obstruct her view of his unmade bunk and knowing it was too little, too late. "We have to put up with our co-pilots, something about bonding, but other than that the space is our own. The support guys have to share, though. Jaz won't stop complaining about her bunkmates."

"And Jaz is���"

"My sister. She's in J-Tech, works on the Lady." Yancy walked over to Raleigh's Polaroids and pointed out a smiling little girl with dark hair, flanked by two young blond boys. "That's her as a kid. You're going to need Rals' permission to publish those, by the way."

"I'll ask when we see him," said Flicker. "Does he know where Lightcap's projects are stashed?"

-

No matter how many times he saw her, she never failed to take his breath away. Lady Danger towered above Yancy and Flicker, immense and shining and deadly, testament to human ingenuity and resilience.

"Pictures don't do her justice," said Flicker, awestruck, but taking as many pictures as she could anyway. "She always looks smaller on TV."

"It's hard to grasp the size of her in person," agreed Yancy, "even stood next to her like this."

One of the techs buzzing around her like insects surrounding their hive came over to them. Dark-haired under a terrible greenish due job where Yancy was blond, but with the same bright blue eyes. "We getting a new sister, Yance?"

Yancy rolled her eyes. "This is the photographer you were briefed about, Felicity Kincaid. Flicker, this is the other woman in my life besides the Lady, Jazmine Beckett."

Jaz wiped a greasy hand on her overalls before shaking Flicker's own hand. "That's Jazmine with a Z," she said, "fuck knows why. Is Yancy taking us to lunch?"

"My treat," Yancy grinned, and led the way to the mess hall.

"You're an engineer, then," Flicker said to Jaz. "Do you know anything about these secret projects?"

-

It dawned on Flicker that 'treat' had been a sarcastic description of a Shatterdome lunch. Not only was it provided free of charge, so Yancy couldn't have paid for it even if he'd wanted to, but it was quite possibly one of the worst things she'd ever seen.

"Tastes better than it looks," said Raleigh Beckett, slipping into the seat next to Jaz and across from Yancy. "You must be the photographer."

"Flicker Kinkaid," she said, skeptically pushing what looked like mac and cheese if the cheese was powdered milk around her tray. "You must be the co-pilot."

"Did everybody know about this except for me?" Jazmine said between mouthfuls of suspicious meatloaf.

Flicker tried to occupy herself by taking pictures, but since she'd already gotten the lunch line whilst she was in it there wasn't much to capture but the food itself. Whoever used her pictures would be able to spin this as a noble sacrifice, no doubt, because the pasta did not taste better than it looked. It tasted of pasta and powdered milk.

Yancy cut his meatloaf in half, moving one chunk to her tray. "The pasta is appalling," he advised, "but the meatloaf really is better than it looks."

He was right, and in thanks she decided not to ask about Lightcap's secret projects. She wasn't expecting an answer anyway.

-

"So this is goodbye," she said, as the helicopter pilot finished her final checks.

"It's been nice having you around," Yancy admitted. "It's good to meet new people who aren't jaegerflies in bars."

"Remind me to tell you about Naomi sometime!" Jaz piped up.

"Remind me to tell you never to talk to Jaz," Raleigh said, putting his sister in an affectionate brotherly headlock.

Flicker had the siblings' contact details, now, and they had hers. She seemed to like them, and Yancy liked her. If they spent more time in contact, they might even be friends. Maybe more.

"I think one of Lightcap's projects is in Hong Kong," he said as he hugged her goodbye, "and one of them is in Sydney. You didn't hear it from me, and nobody else heard it from you."

She hugged him tighter. "Understood, Ranger Beckett."

They separated, and she gave a half-mocking salute.

Then she climbed into the chopper, and was gone.

(Yancy refused to tell his siblings that he already missed her. Raleigh knew anyway, and told Jaz.)

[typical-simplelove]

To Capture a Moment (M. Barzal)

Author's Note: This was a prompt from the ever amazing @thatflyersfan, so thank you for this! The prompt was "taking polaroid photos", and I'm a sucker for childhood friends to lovers, so this is the product! I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you thought either in an ask or in the tags. Enjoy!

Author's Note 2: If you reblog this, I'll send you an ask thank you and mention you in an appreciation post (if I do this!)

Warnings: Mentions of sex, one or two slightly NSFW scenes (but VERY mild), a mention of a breeding kink (literally mentioned in one sentence), marriage, pregnancy, Santa, but the rest is just fluff!

Word Count: 9.3k

Enjoy reading!

If anyone were to walk down the hall of your and Mathew’s hallway of your new home, they would see it lined with polaroid pictures. These polaroid pictures show the relationship between you and Mathew from the young age of five to now sharing your new home, married, and with two children. A hallway that was the epitome of a picture is worth a thousand words.

Age 5

“Mathew, please, just stand next to your sister, please,” Mathew’s mother requests. Her tone was close to begging. Your parents had to deal with a family emergency, so they sent you to the Barzal’s to be babysat. Mathew’s mother decided to take Liana, Mathew, and you to Lafarge Park.

Currently, you are sitting on a bench giggling as you watch Mathew sigh as he gets up from where he was sitting next to you. He groaned as he got up and stood next to his sister. He wraps his arm around her but doesn’t smile. At the touch, Liana screams and begins to cry. It was close to her nap time, and the smallest things were making her fussy. Mathew’s mother sighs and goes to pick up her daughter to try to comfort her. Mathew grins widely and sits back down next to you.

“I don’t like taking photos,” Mathew says bluntly. You look at him but are squinting as the sun is in your eyes.

“You like taking photos in your hockey gear,” you point out.

“Yeah, but I don’t like taking photos,” Mathew emphasizes the word photos as if that were enough explanation. It wasn’t. “You know what I mean?”

“No.”

Mathew gives you a curious look, and you want to point out his hair is getting long, but his mother calls Mathew back over to take the photo.

“But I don’t want to,” Mathew whines.

“Mathew,” she says in a mother’s knowing tone, and Mathew gets up exasperatedly. He stands next to his sister. He opts not to put his arm around her this time and looks at you before the picture is taken. You smile widely at him and wave. Mathew wears a giant grin on his face in response. His mother notices Mathew’s wide smile; she smiles when she realizes you are the reason for Mathew’s smile. She takes the photo quickly knowing that Mathew’s smile is short-lived.

“Yn, come take a photo with Mathew,” she calls to you. You skip over to Mathew. Surprisingly, Mathew doesn’t complain about taking another photo. Then again, though, Mathew never complained about anything when it came to you.

“Mom, can we do the fancy camera? The one that prints out right away?” Mathew asks.

“Sure, sweetheart,” Mathew’s mother says and pulls the polaroid camera out of her purse. Mathew insisted she bring it today, and she guesses this was why. “Smile,” she directs and snaps the photo. Once the photo is printed, she places it in her wallet.

“I’m going to hang it on my wall,” Mathew tells you after the photo is taken and that he did. After he got home later that day from dropping you off at home, Mathew begged his mother for the photo. He tapped it on his wall next to his hockey posters because to him, you were just as important. As Mathew moved around for hockey, that photo always followed him around with a few others. It sat in his wallet, and when he felt homesick, he’d look at it with a wide smile. Now, it sits amongst the many polaroid pictures on your wall.

Age 6

Whenever you and Mathew were together, Mathew’s mother always brought the polaroid camera with her. Mathew always loved taking those kinds of photos with you. In the past year, you and Mathew have taken countless polaroid pictures that lined both your walls and his.

Today, you were sitting in a local hockey arena watching Mathew play. Well, you were watching the empty ice getting ready for warmups. You were wearing one of Mathew’s sweatshirts as you shivered in the cold of the arena. You were clutching the mug of hot chocolate Mathew’s mother gave you in hopes of warming up. When Mathew got on the ice for warmups, you smiled widely. Even at such a young age, seeing Mathew would bring a smile to your face and make you all warm and fuzzy.

You walked towards the glass to get a better look at your best friend. When he skated by you, you tapped softly on the glass to alert him you were there. When Mathew turns to see you, he gives you a giant smile from beneath his helmet. He takes a few moments to stop and looks at you for a moment. Mathew’s mother takes the polaroid camera out of her bag and quickly snaps a photo of the two of you in this exact position.

That photo remains on the Barzal mantle till this day.

Age 7

The annual Christmas Fair was back in Vancouver again, and Mathew was super excited to see Santa this year. He figured that his dream of playing in the NHL would come true as long as he asked Santa for it for every year of his life until it happened.

You were both standing in line waiting to go inside the Fair. Despite being bundled up in your warmest sweater, jacket, gloves, and hat, you were still cold. One would think that after spending copious amounts of time in a hockey arena watching Mathew play, you would be used to the cold, but you weren’t.

“Are you cold, Yn?” Mathew asks concerned. He can see you shivering but trying to hide it.

“Just a little,” you lie.

“Oh, here,” Mathew says and walks over to you. He wraps his arms around you in a giant hug to keep you warm. You feel your cheeks warm at the touch, but you, at the age of seven, think it’s just you already warming up. You rest your head on Mathew and wrap your arms around him. “No, keep them in your pockets, so you can keep warm.”

“What about your hands?” you worry.

“Don’t worry, I play hockey; I’m used to the cold,” he reassures you and flashes you his signature grin. Mathew’s mother wasn’t able to capture a polaroid photo of this event, but your mother was able to pull out her phone to capture the moment. Even at the age of 7, Mathew would do absolutely anything for you.

Eventually, yours and Mathew’s families end up inside the fair and in line to see Santa. Now, a hot chocolate in your belly and a warm meal, you were slowly warming up and didn’t need Mathew to hold you anymore. He was bouncing with excitement as you both got closer and closer to the front of the line.

When it was Mathew’s turn to see Santa, he walked up, and you waited in line for your turn. A sudden gust of wind made a giant shiver rack through your body, and Mathew noticed from where he was sitting on Santa’s lap.

“Is everything alright, son?” he asks.

Mathew looks up at him with worry. “My best friend is cold, and I don’t like it when Yn’s cold. I’d rather be cold instead of Yn.”

“Well, maybe we should finish here quickly, so you can go and make Yn warm. What do you say?”

Mathew nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, I like that.”

“So, what do you want, son?”

Mathew looks into Santa’s blue eyes and is about to ask for an NHL career. He then looks at you and sees you shivering. Mathew’s heart stops and realizes that it doesn’t matter if he got the NHL career if you were cold. You couldn’t be cold because if you were cold then you’d get sick. If you were sick, then who would be Mathew’s best friend? “I want Yn not to be sick.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah,” Mathew nods. “I can’t have my best friend sick because then who would be my best friend.”

“Well, then, I’ll be sure to grant your wish, son,” Santa says. In all his years of doing this, he’s never heard this one before. “Keep Yn close, okay? Yn seems like a special one.”

Mathew always kept those words close to his heart whether or not he remembered who told them to him.

Age 10

For the past ten years, you and Mathew have taken a photo on yours and his birthdays. It was always you on the right and him on the left. Whoever’s birthday it was would be holding the gift the other got them. It was tradition.

It was your tenth birthday, and the day was coming to a close. All your friends had left, and it was just your family and Mathew’s family who were still there. You were on your third piece of cake, and Mathew was trying to convince you to give him a bite, too. He looked nervous.

“Are you okay, Mathew?” you ask after finishing your final piece and giving Mathew a piece.

“I have a gift for you,” he mumbles.

“Oh!” you thought you opened all your gifts.

“Can I give it to you?”

“Yeah, sure,” you answer. Mathew gets up to grab the gift, and you throw out the plate in the trash.

“This is for you,” he says and passes the bag to you. You gently take the wrapping paper out of the bag; you set it to the side and pull out the box. You gasp when you see it. You smile and jump up to give Mathew a hug. You wrap your arms around him.

“Thank you for the polaroid camera, Mathew,” you whisper as he wraps his arms around you.

“Of course, Yn. It’s time you had your own, so we could take all the photos we want.”

“Come on, let’s go and get my mom to take a photo of us.”

You and Mathew go and find his mother. When you find her, you take the camera out of the box and hand it to her. You and Mathew position yourself against the wall, and he wraps an arm around you. You hold the box in your hand and smile. Mathew, though, isn’t looking at the camera; he’s looking at you with the widest grin on his face. All that mattered in his life was making you smile. If he made you smile, then Mathew always wore the happiest grin on his face.

Age 13 - Stargazing

Your parents had to go out of town to take care of your grandparents, so you were staying with the Barzals for the weekend. You were both currently laying on in his backyard on a blanket staring at the stars. It was your favorite pastime — laying together looking up at the stars.

You were both lying next to each other, shoulder to shoulder. You turned your head and looked at Mathew, but you looked to find him already looking at you. “It’s pretty,” he says.

“It is,” you agree and turn back to the sky. Mathew, though, remained looking at you.

“Do you have your polaroid camera?”

“Yeah, right next to me. Why?”

“Let’s take a photo,” Mathew answers. He sits up and leans over around you to grab the camera. In the process, Mathew’s arm brushes your stomach briefly, and his face grows warm at the touch. Somewhere, between the ages of 12 and 13, Mathew has developed a crush on you. He didn’t tell anyone because why would he? At this age, Mathew would get teased for having a crush on you, so he didn’t tell anyone. Besides, he wasn’t even sure if you liked him, too.

Mathew lies back down next to you and rests his head close to yours. He lifts his arm up and positions it so that the both of you are in frame. You both smile, and Mathew presses down the button.

The photo comes out, and Mathew’s heart warms at the picture reflected.

“Can I have my camera? I want a picture of the stars, too,” you ask. He hands you the camera, and his hand brushes yours briefly. You thought nothing of it, but Mathew’s heart was racing. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Mathew whispers, and you give him a curious look. “What?”

“Nothing, you’re just acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird; you’re acting weird.”

You laugh. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

Mathew watched you take a photo of the stars in the sky, and he came to one realization: he never wanted to live in a world where you weren’t there.

Age 16

It was Mathew’s 16th birthday, and you were sitting on a garden chair watching him have the time of his life with his friends. As you both started high school, you both found yourself in different friend groups. That wasn’t to say, however, that your friendship wavered. It just meant that you both weren’t next to each other all the time. You were okay with that new realization. You were okay with it because that meant that you could work through your new found feelings for Mathew. You didn’t know when it happened. One day, you were eating lunch with Mathew, your friend, with normal hair and normal eyes and a normal laugh. You were eating lunch with Mathew, your friend, who was normal looking. The next day, though, you were eating lunch with Mathew who had the most beautiful smile, the most beautiful eyes, the softest hair, and was the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He was no longer the boy you grew up with. He was Mathew, and you finally understood what all the girls were talking about. It was difficult for you to breathe around him because you wanted him to hold your hand and love you. It went from Mathew being your best friend to you loving Mathew as more than a friend, and it scared you.

You were sitting there smiling when Mathew caught your gaze. He looked you in the eyes and waved. You waved back and warmth filled you. He excused himself from his friends and walked over to where you were sitting.

“You brought the polaroid camera,” he says as he brings a chair next to yours and sits.

“Well, we’ve taken the same photo for the past sixteen years. We might as well continue tradition, right?” you tease.

“Yeah, tradition,” he whispers giving you a look that makes you melt. He leans his head close to yours with a soft smile. “Can I tell you something?”

You nod trying to suppress a shiver.

“Somewhere in the past —”

“Yn, can I borrow your polaroid camera, please?” Liana interrupts as if knowing what Mathew was going to say. You tell her yes, and you see Mathew, out of the corner of your eye, blush and shake his head while also glaring at his sister.

“Um, you were saying?” you ask hoping to rebuild the bubble you both just had.

Mathew looks at you trying to figure out if he wants to continue. “Um, somewhere in the past five or six years or so, I screwed up.”

“Screwed up, how?”

“I fell for you,” Mathew whispers, a blush overcoming his face.

“But, you’re sitting right now,” you say oblivious.

Mathew laughs his laugh, and you melt into a puddle. “I fell in love with you, Yn.”

“Oh. Oh!”

Mathew laughs again with a bashful smile settling on his features. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you.”

“Are you still sorry if I were to tell you I fell in love with you, too?”

“I wouldn’t be sorry, then,” Mathew says and leans his head close to yours. He takes one hand and cups your cheek. He rubs soft patterns on your cheek as he begins to tilt his head. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you beg. Mathew places his lips on yours softly as your hands go to his neck and begin to softly playing the hair at its base. It was a kiss full of fireworks. All the noises around you mellowed out. All the emotions you feel for your best friend come out in one kiss as it deepens. You both pull away when a flash from a camera startles you both.

“Sorry, I just had to,” Liana apologizes, handing you back your camera with the photo printing.

“You didn’t have to,” Mathew grumbles angrily.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry,” you tell her, taking back the camera. You look at the photo and smile. Mathew was gently holding your face as he kissed you softly. You both had wide smiles on your faces as you kissed each other. “See, we have a photo of our first kiss.”

Mathew kisses your forehead softly. “Here’s to many more.”

Age 18

“Yn, come outside, please?” Mathew begs with a pout on his face. “I want to take a photo with you.”

“But we’ve been taking photos all day,” you groan. It was reaching 9pm at night, and the joint graduation party for you and Mathew was over. You were both lounging on your bed reminiscing about the future. Mathew was going to have this amazing NHL career, and you were going to college.

“I just want this one,” Mathew says as he gets off the bed. He looks at the many polaroid photos sitting on your wall of both your family, friends, and him. He was in most of them. He picks up your polaroid camera and grins at you. “Please? My parents bought sparklers, and we haven’t used them yet.”

You get up because Mathew could get you to do anything as long as he gave you that grin. “Okay.”

Mathew takes your hand and leads you both downstairs. “Liana, can you take a photo of us?”

“More photos?” she asks. Liana was just as fed up with taking pictures, too. “Yn, how do you put up with him?”

You shrug with a smile. “It’s easy when I love him.”

“I love him, too, but I can’t put up with him,” Liana mumbles following you both out the door. Mathew inquires about the sparklers and is directed to his mother’s car. You and Liana stand out in your backyard. “What kind of photo does he want?”

“I’m not sure, but I know he wants a polaroid photo.”

“He’s obsessed with those,” Liana comments as Mathew walks up to you two. He hands the polaroid camera to Liana and ushers you over to where he wants to stand. He takes two sparklers out of the box and hands one to you.

“I want to kiss you as we hold the sparklers,” Mathew mumbles against your skin. His words sent shivers down your spine.

“Okay,” you whisper as Mathew lights yours and his sparklers. He looks at you with a wide smile and wraps the arm that’s not holding the sparkler around your waist. You wrap your arm that’s not holding the sparkler across his shoulder and lean in for a kiss. “Liana, take the photo when we kiss, please.”

Liana makes a comment about how disgusting the two of you are before saying an “okay.”

Mathew leans in with a smile and kisses you. You kiss him back with a smile just as wide closing the space between you two. You see the flash out of the corner of your eye and pull away slowly to set the sparkler out. When they’re out, Mathew pulls you in for another kiss full of love and passion. He never gets enough of kissing you; if it were up to him, he’d kiss you for every moment of every day.

“The photo’s ready,” Liana interrupts, not wanting to watch her brother kiss anyone even if it were you. You both separate breathlessly and observe the photo. He wraps his arms around you and settles your back against his front. He rests his head against yours and holds you tightly against his chest.

“We look cute, babe,” Mathew whispers into your ear. You look into his eyes and break out into a smile.

“We do look cute,” you agree. You were about to say something else, but the flash of the polaroid camera interrupts your words.

“Sorry,” Liana apologies. “You guys just looked really cute.”

Mathew kisses your cheek, and his heart bursts with love. He loved you so much that there were no words. From where they were sitting on the back porch, your parents and Mathew’s parents were looking on with love. You and Mathew were perfect for each other, and they knew that your relationship would stand the test of time.

Age 21

You were in New York for the first time during the hockey season. In past times you’ve been in New York, it was either before the season or after the season. This was the first time that your school schedule lined up perfectly with a chance to go see Mathew play on Long Island. You met the WAGs for the first time tonight, and you instantly loved them and them the same. You were currently standing next to Sydney, who took you under her wing, at the glass as warmups just began. You had your new polaroid camera and ready to snap one of Mathew.

“Do you and Mathew have a strong connection to a polaroid camera?” Sydney asks.

You nod with a smile. “Yeah. For as long as I can remember, we’ve always taken photos with a polaroid camera. We have millions of photos together.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen them. Mathew displays them proudly across his apartment. He loves them, but he loves you more,” Sydney teases.

You don’t reply except for smiling bashfully and shaking your head playfully. You were about to say something when Mathew interrupted you by bumping into the boards in front of you. He looks at you, and his heart grows a million sizes seeing you wearing his jersey. You smile when you see him and wave. He begins to show off in front of you with his stick handling. You shake your head playfully at his actions, but you use the opportunity to snap a photo of Mathew. It’s of him concentrating on the puck. You tuck it into your purse to observe later on.

“Did you want me to take one of the two of you?” Grace asks, who was on the other side of you and has also taken you under her wing.

“Would you? That’d be great.”

“Of course,” she says and takes the camera from you.

“Can Grace take a photo of us?” you ask Mathew. You were suddenly nervous that he was going to be embarrassed of your tradition.

“That would be amazing,” he tells you genuinely. He leans against the glass on his side, and you do the same on your side, smiling at Grace. Once the photo is taken, you, once again, put it in your purse to look at later. Mathew waves before rejoining the rest of his team.

“You guys are cute,” Sydney comments with a smile.

“Oh, to be young and in love,” Grace comments and both girls laugh. You put the camera in your purse, and you smile as the heat rushes to your face. Indeed, to be young and in love.

Later that night, you and Mathew were sitting on his couch when you pulled out the polaroids from the day. Mathew looks at the polaroid that you took of him without him knowing and blushes. You notice it and kiss his cheek.

“You look good, babe,” you tease.

“Yeah, but this one is better,” he says pointing to the photo Grace took of you. His hold on you tightens as he rests his head on the crook between your shoulder and neck. “Wanna know why?”

“Why?” you giggle as Mathew’s breath tickles you.

“Because you’re in it,” Mathew flirts.

“Shut up,” you say bashfully as the warmth reaches your face.

“It’s true,” he whispers. “I’m not ready for you to go back to school. I want you here forever.”

“Don’t worry,” you reassure. “After I graduate, I’m going to get a job here in New York, and we’ll be here forever together. Don’t worry; you can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mathew says and places a kiss on your cheek.

Age 22

Mathew is sitting next to your father with a bouquet of flowers and your polaroid camera on his lap. Mathew’s leg is bouncing as he anxiously waits for your name to be called. It was finally your graduation day. You’ve been working hard for the past four years, and it was finally paying off. Mathew was so proud of you, and he was so happy that he got to be here at his super smart, super beautiful girlfriend’s graduation day.

A name a few before yours was called, and Mathew and your family perked their attention to be ready when you were called. In moments, your name was called, and you were walking across the stage. Mathew and your family all stood up to cheer for you. Mathew put the flowers down on his chair and put the camera up to take a photo. He snapped one exactly as you were handed your diploma. He put the photo in his wallet with the same one from when you were five.

As you were walking across the stage, you caught Mathew’s eyes, and he winked at you. You smiled bashfully, and as you sat, you felt the warmth on your face. The rest of the celebration went by quickly as you all threw your caps in the air and cheered. You were done! You finished! You were officially a college graduate! You said tearful goodbyes and congratulations to your friends before making your way to your family and Mathew.

Mathew stood to the side as your grandparents, parents, and siblings embraced you and congratulated you. He could see the impatience in your eyes as you greeted each and everyone of them, wanting to greet Mathew. As you hugged your grandparents after your parents, your mother walked over to Mathew.

“Hand me the polaroid camera. I’ll take a few as she comes over to you,” your mother says, and Mathew hands her the camera.

Finally, finally, it was Mathew’s turn to see you. “Congratulations,” he says to you softly.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“These are for you,” Mathew says and hands you the flowers. You both vaguely notice the flash of the camera as your mother took a photo of Mathew handing you the flowers. You take the flowers and smile behind them embarrassed. One of your siblings takes the flowers from you, so you can properly embrace Mathew. He wraps you in a giant hug and kisses your forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, baby.”

“I can’t believe that my girlfriend is a college graduate,” Mathew comments as you pull away to look at him. He leans his head down and kisses you softly. You reach your hands to wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer to you. You both deepen the kiss but not too much as your father was right there watching you two. As you and Mathew kiss, you both, once again, vaguely recall a flash of the polaroid camera. It didn’t matter. When you both were together, especially kissing, the entire world faded away. Finally, you both pull away with breathless smiles.

A few weeks later, you were both back home in Coquitlam, and it was nearing the end of your graduation party. Mathew was sitting on the back deck with his parents, Liana and your dad as the night winded down. In your hand, you held the two photos your mother took and wanted to show Mathew.

“Mind if I steal him for a moment?” you ask resting your hand on Mathew’s shoulder.

“Please, he keeps talking about you, and it’s making me sick,” Liana says. Everyone laughs in response, and you take Mathew’s hand and lead him away from the group.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“I want to show you the photos from graduation,” you tell him. “The polaroids.”

You and Mathew find a spot in the backyard and sit. Mathew sits first and opens his legs for you to sit in between. You rest with your back against his chest, and his arms reach around your waist to hold you tightly. He kisses the side of your cheek as you show him the photos.

“Here’s the first one,” you say and show him one. It’s the photo of Mathew handing you the bouquet of flowers. Smiles are adorned on both your faces, and Mathew’s eyes are laced with nothing but love for you. “We look good.”

“You always say that,” Mathew teases.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true,” you reply looking at your boyfriend of many, many years.

He kisses your temple. “What’s the next one?”

You flip to the next photo and show it to him.

“Now this one, this one, we look good,” Mathew says, giving you a raised eyebrow. It was a photo of Mathew giving you your congratulatory kiss.

“We do look good,” you comment with a smile.

Mathew was contemplating on whether or not to tell you about the photo he took of you while you walked across the stage. He opted against it wanting to keep the photo to himself for the moment. “This is our thing, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean ‘our thing’?” you ponder.

“You know, all couples have their thing. This is our thing, taking polaroid photos,” Mathew explains.

“I guess it is,” you hum. “It’s not a bad ‘thing’ to have.”

“It really isn’t,” Mathew says and kisses you. He will be forever indebted to his mother for starting this tradition that the two of you have.

Age 24

On your first night after moving to New York, Anthony and Mathew insisted on taking you out to celebrate. You were tired, though, from unpacking and settling in all day, so you told them you didn’t want to do anything crazy. Why was Anthony tagging along? You didn’t know. He was there to help unpack, and he said you three should celebrate, so here you were.

You let Anthony and Mathew pick what they wanted to do as you showered and unpacked your stuff in the washroom. You walked out freshly showered to Mathew and Anthony having wide smiles on their faces.

“What if we took you to Times Square?” Mathew says. He walks over to you and wraps you in a giant hug. You hum in response, but Mathew isn’t sure if it's from the hug or agreeing with going to Times Square. You wrap your arms around him and breathe in his scent. You missed his scent before you moved in with him. You spent a few years back home with a job before you moved to New York. You wanted to be on your own for a bit before making the trek across the continent.

Anthony clears his throat to signal that you and Mathew weren’t the only two in the room. You both pull away, and Mathew’s face is crimson red as he meets his friend’s eyes. “So, Times Square, yes or no?”

“Sure, but not too late because I’m tired,” you reply. Getting to Manhattan from Mathew’s, no your apartment, Long Island apartment was long. You told them the train would be easier, but Mathew and Anthony would rather drive, so driving it was. The entire night was a blur. You were tired and exhausted, and the ecstasy you felt from being in the City with your boyfriend, finally, was too much to handle. You were over the moon overjoyed.

The three of you stopped for a moment in the main square of Times Square, and you looked around in awe. Mathew was watching you with nothing but love in his eyes as you took in the sight. He spent every night over the past few years wishing and dreaming of the nights and days he’d get to have you by his side. Anthony, on the other hand, was rolling his eyes at his best friend’s love sick nature.

“Did you bring your polaroid camera?” Mathew whispers into your ear.

“Yes, why?” you ask with a smile on your face that makes Mathew melt into a puddle.

“Let’s get Beau to take a photo for us.”

You watch as Mathew asks Anthony to take a photo of the two of you; you giggle quietly as Anthony rolls his eyes but says yes. Mathew walks over to you and wraps his arms around you. Anthony holds the camera up as you and Mathew smile for him. However, instead of looking at the camera, Mathew is looking down at you as you smile at the camera. He’s looking at you, the love of his life and the light of his life. Anthony snaps the photo but rolls his eyes at the lovesickness of his best friend. The photo prints, and you throw it into your purse to look at later. You continue to explore the awakeness of the Big Apple with your hand in Mathew’s. You fell in love with the city, and you were excited to be living in the lively state of New York.

Later that night, you’re getting ready for bed and standing at your dresser in the bedroom. You set your purse on it and take the polaroid camera out. Next, you take the photo out of your wallet and look at it. You smile at you and Mathew in the photo. As you’re looking, Mathew walks out of the washroom with his sweats hanging low on his hips without a shirt on and wraps his arms around you. He holds you close against his bare chest and rests his head on your shoulder breathing in your comforting and familiar scent.

“What’re you looking at?” he asks in a low husky voice that sends chills down your spine.

“The photo from tonight,” you say in a low voice as Mathew pulls you closer into his body. “You didn’t even look at the camera.”

“It’s a waste of time to stare at a camera when the best part of my life is right there,” Mathew flirts. He kisses your neck in between words pulling a soft whimper from you.

“You’re such a flirt,” you teasingly scoff. You rest the photo on the dresser and turn around, so you’re facing Mathew. You rest your arms on his shoulders and feel the expanse of the muscles there. You watch as Mathew’s eyes begin to darken and fill with need and desire.

“How else am I supposed to keep my girl satisfied?” he smirks.

“I can think of a few ways,” you tell him confidently before closing the space and placing a kiss on his lips. Mathew instantly picks you up, and you yelp slightly at the sudden touch. He carries you to the bed and places you down slowly. In between kisses, you tell him, “I love you.”

“I love you, too. More than anyone or anything in the world,” he replies. One day, he knew that he’d be getting Anthony to take a photo of the two of you with an engagement ring on your left hand.

Age 25

Engagement Party

Four months after you moved to New York, Mathew proposed to you. He got down on one knee during a date-night at home. You knew something was up when Mathew was nervous the entire night. You, obviously, said yes to forever with your best friend and the love of your life.

Now eight months later, Mathew’s family was throwing you both a small engagement party to celebrate the engagement about a month before your wedding. It was just both of your immediate families and close friends. You didn’t invite many people knowing the majority of the important people in your life would be flying to Vancouver for the wedding in about a month.

You were wearing a white sundress that made you feel like the bride that all movies and books describe. You were surrounded by your family, but most importantly, you were celebrating getting married to your best friend and love of your life.

It was getting late, and you were sitting on Mathew’s lap. You were resting your head on his shoulder with your arms wrapped around his neck and his arms wrapped around yours. The steady breathing from him and his warmth led to you falling asleep. He was tracing small patterns on your hip as he continued to talk to the small group of people around you. At some point, you heard Mathew tell someone to grab his sweater, and he threw it over your shoulders. You were so tired and didn’t tell him you were cold, but he just knew.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but you just did. No one noticed you were asleep until someone asked you a question, and you didn’t respond. Mathew looked down at you and noticed that you were sleeping. You looked adorable and comfortable in his arms. Mathew’s heartbeat quickened as he realized that he got to spend the rest of his life with the person in his arms. He got to spend the rest of his life with the person in his arms who looked so at rest, so beautiful, and so happy.

Liana quietly gets up to grab your polaroid camera from your purse. She knew that you’d want to have this documented.

“Get used to this, Mathew,” your dad began. “Yn will be falling asleep in your arms like this forever.”

Mathew smiled at your father’s words and rested his head against yours. He’d be more than okay with that. Liana didn’t tell Mathew he was going to take a photo. She knew that you’d far rather that the photo was candid and not scripted. Liana approached the group quietly and snapped a photo. Mathew was too absorbed in holding you that he didn’t notice. Liana left the photo on your nightstand where you found it the next morning. You smiled at the photo when you saw it knowing you weren’t making a mistake with who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

Wedding Day

You woke up the night after your wedding day curled into Mathew’s bare chest. You opened your eyes and a wide smile erupted across your face. You ran your fingers along Mathew’s stomach, and your breath hitched in your throat when you caught sight of your wedding band on your left finger.

“Morning, baby,” Mathew says in his morning voice that still makes your heart flutter. He runs his left hand across your back, and his wedding band sends chills down your spine.

“Did you know that we got married last night?” you ask sweetly.

He gives you a low chuckle. “Yes, I do know that.”

You giggle. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You both lay in bed for a while in silence before Mathew says anything again. “Liana gave me the photos she took on the polaroid last night.”

“Oh,” you say as you sit up. You and Mathew put Liana in charge of taking a few polaroid photos of the two of you knowing she’d be the best one to do so. Mathew also roped in Anthony, but you both had more faith in Liana.

You sit up against the headboard as Mathew gets up and grabs the envelope that Liana gave him before you both left the previous night. Mathew pulls you against him as he rests against the headboard, too, and hands you the photos. You look in the envelope and notice six photos.

You pull out one and smile at it. It was your first dance with Mathew. Liana took the photo perfectly just as the song was coming to a close and Mathew was twirling you with your dress splaying out around you. Mathew had nothing but love in his for his new wife and a giant smile on his;he had tunnel vision when he looked at you. The entire world faded away except for you. You remember Mathew placing a kiss on you just as you reentered his embrace. Your heart was beating through your chest as Mathew and you continued to dance to the remainder of the song.

“We look good,” you tell him, showing him the photo. Mathew grabs the photo from your hand and is careful to only hold the corners. You’ve been on his case many, many times about not smudging the photo.

“You look good, babe,” Mathew corrects. “You always will look better than me.”

You smile bashfully at your husband’s words and smile into his chest. He tightens his grip around you before grabbing the envelope, placing the photo in it, and grabbing another. He smiles at the photo of him and his mother dancing together. “Look, it’s your mother-in-law,” he comments.

You look at the photo and smile. “Indeed it is.”

“Is it weird that she’s officially your mother-in-law?”

“Not really. I mean, it’s different, but not weird. Your mom has always been in my life, so it’s not like I don’t know her. Is it weird that my parents are your in-laws?”

“Yes, absolutely. The amount of stares that your father has given me? He never scared me when we were growing up, but in the past few years, he has.”

You laugh and place a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t worry. He’s just being protective of his child.”

“It better be just that,” Mathew mumbles. You grab another photo from the envelope and smile at the photo of you and your dad dancing together. Both yours and your father’s eyes had tears in their eyes knowing that this was it. This was what you both knew was coming but weren’t ready for. You were starting a life with Mathew and forming your new family, and your father was losing his child to the man who loves you as much as he does.

You put the photo back in the envelope and grab the next one. It was the photo of the kiss after the officiant said, “you may now kiss your bride.” You and Mathew both had wide smiles on your faces as you leaned in for the first kiss as a married couple. You remember how eager Mathew was to kiss you and how much he needed to kiss you. Sometimes, it makes you wonder how he goes on long roadtrips without kissing you. Mathew’s hands were sitting on your waist under the edges of your veil with his gold wedding band reflecting the light of the ceremony’s venue. Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders with the light reflecting off your grandmother’s tennis bracelet, your something old, and Mathew’s grandmother’s gold bracelet, your something borrowed. The space between you two was non-existent as you both needed to be as close as possible to kiss. You and Mathew both had a professional photographer at the wedding, but there was something more special about the photo being taken by someone who you loved.

The fifth photo is of you and Mathew giving each other a bite of your wedding cake after biting it. You both opted for a traditional two-tiered cake with white fondant and flowers around the base. Mathew had his left arm on your waist, your veil taken off to preserve it, with his right hand holding a fork close to your mouth. You had your dominant hand resting on his chest with your nondominant hand with a fork in it to feed Mathew a piece of cake. You both were looking in each other’s eyes but midlaugh. You couldn’t remember what he said that made you laugh so hard, but you did.

The six and final photo Liana took was of your send off. To reminisce from your high school graduation party, you and Mathew opted for a sparkler send off. Sure, it was cliche but much of your relationship with Mathew was a cliche. You and Mathew were standing in front of his car as your family and friends held sparklers cheering for you all. Mathew had his hands cupping your face and giving you a kiss with a wide smile on his face. You had your arms in his hair holding him close to you. It was a perfect ending for the day of your dreams with the man of your dreams starting the life of your dreams.

“I can’t wait to see all the professional photos,” you tell him as you put the envelope on the nightstand.

“Who really needs professional photos?”

“I mean, we have all those polaroids from growing up but not many from last night, so we do?”

Mathew looks at you and smiles. “I guess we do.”

The professional photos were exactly what you were hoping for. Each time you looked at them, your heart beat just a tad faster and your stomach did somersaults. Mathew always did have that effect on you.

Honeymoon

After the wedding of your dreams, you and Mathew were off to Paris for a honeymoon of your dreams. Sure, it was very cliche, but, again, everything about yours and Mathew’s relationship was a cliche.

It was halfway through the trip when it dawned on Mathew that you both didn’t have a polaroid photo together. He was shocked to say the least when he realized it. That same day, you and Mathew were heading to the Eiffel Tower, and Mathew figured it was the best opportunity for a photo op, so he threw the camera into your purse and made a mental promise to get a photo of the two of you.

You and Mathew purchased your tickets and took the elevator to the top of the tower. On the descent, you and Mathew got off on the second level to get more pictures opting to take the steps down. You were looking at the Parisian skyline with Mathew holding you against his chest. Your arms were crossed against your chest with Mathew’s arms on top of yours. The metal of his wedding band sending shivers down your spine.

“Can we take a photo?” Mathew mumbles against your ear.

“Yeah,” you whisper back. You aren’t sure why you whispered, but you didn’t want to break the intimate moment.

“I’ll go find someone to take it for us. Polaroid, right?”

You smile softly. “Yeah.”

Mathew asks one of the working attendants to take a photo for you two. You hand the polaroid camera to the attendant. You and Mathew take the same position you were just in; however, now, you were both facing away from the skyline. You smile for the camera, but, as usual, Mathew isn’t looking at the camera but at you.

“Your husband wasn’t looking at the camera, would you like me to retake it?” the attendant asks.

You laugh softly. “No, that’s okay. Thank you.”

The attendant walks away as you look at the photo. “Why don’t you ever look at the camera? We rarely have any photos of us — polaroid or digital — where you look at the camera.”

“I think I’ve said this already, Yn, but there’s no need to look at the camera when all I want to look at is you.”

You smile and shake your head playfully at your husband. “Okay, smooth talker, take a photo of me?”

“Gladly.”

Mathew took way too many pictures of you on his phone, but his words were “it’s important to capture your world in someone else’s eyes” which he did.

Age 27

Three weeks after giving birth to your first son, Isaac, you and Mathew were exhausted to say the least. Being new parents and with the stress of the end of the regular season coming soon, you and Mathew were just plain exhausted.

Mathew was at a hockey game that night. Somehow, despite the exhaustion of being a new father, Mathew was still playing well. He managed to have a four point night; the commentators said something about his new found “father strength.”

The game ended about an hour ago, and Mathew would be home any minute. Finally, finally, Isaac was sleeping and wasn’t crying. You posted a note on the door for Mathew telling him that if he woke Isaac, you were going to a hotel to sleep. Mathew, chuckled to himself, when he read your note. He walked into your apartment, and his heart melted at what he saw. You were sitting on the couch with Isaac sleeping on your chest. You were stroking his back to keep him quiet. Every few moments you’d kiss his head out of love.

You left the polaroid camera on the kitchen counter after taking a few photos of Isaac and your new family. Leaving the camera out allowed for Mathew to take a photo of you without knowing. He puts his stuff down quietly and picks up the camera. He takes it out of the case and snaps a photo. The flash of the camera startles you slightly. When you look over to the flash, you smile when you see your husband. Mathew places the photo facedown on the table and walks over to you. He takes his tie off and rests it on the side of the couch. He sits next to you and kisses your forehead. “Hey,” he whispers.

“Hi,” you whisper back.

“How was Isaac?”

“He was good,” you tell him. “I’m tired. I’m not sure how I’m going to get through the rest of his life.”

“Hey, we’ll be okay, okay? We’ll figure it out, okay?” Mathew reassures.

You nod. “Yeah, we’ll be okay.”

Later that night, you put Isaac down for bed and enter your bedroom. You fell asleep easily that night in Mathew’s arms with a soft smile on your face. Yeah, everything would be okay.

Age 28

Shortly after giving birth to Isaac, both you and Mathew were hit with a really bad case of baby fever. Everytime you or Mathew held Isaac, the next immediate thought you both had was “let’s have another baby.” Every time you saw Mathew doing skin-to-skin contact with Isaac, your heart would flutter with love for your husband, your son, and a strong desire for another baby.

Seven months postpartum, you finally felt comfortable with approaching your husband with the topic of having another baby. Mathew was super excited that you brought it up. At first, trying to conceive was slightly painful. You were both patient with the process knowing it would happen when it would happen. You finally conceived after six months of trying.

Five months later, you felt comfortable announcing it to the world. You bought a whiteboard and wrote a message that said, “Baby Barzal #2 coming soon.” Also, you placed the ultrasound photo on the top corner with a baby jersey with “Barzal 02” on it. You took a photo of it to post both on yours and Mathew’s instagrams. You smiled at the messages you received from your friends, family, the WAGs, and Mathew’s teammates. You both opted not to tell anyone except for immediate family wanting to enjoy the news on your own for the time being.

“Mathew, do you know where the polaroid camera is?” you call out realizing that you had a polaroid of the baby announcement for Isaac but not baby number two.

“On the dresser, probably,” he called from Isaac’s room. You could hear the scrunch in his nose as he changed Isaac’s smelly diaper.

“Thanks, babe,” you call back and walk into your bedroom. You grab the camera and walk back to where you have the pregnancy announcement still sitting on the floor. You snap a photo and smile as you place it on the wall.

With baby #2, your heart was full and excited for what would be coming in the future.

Age 29

“Anthony, please?” you beg.

“Why do you guys always get me to take the photos of the two of you?” Anthony whines.

“Because you’re the best at it!” These words do not convince him further to take a photo of you, Mathew, your daughter, Shannon, and your son, Isaac. “What about, if we have another baby, we name them Anthony”

“What? No,” Mathew yells. ��No way. No more kids”

“Just give me the camera,” Anthony sighs. You, who is holding Shannon, and Mathew, who is holding Isaac, walk out to the door of your new house. Shortly after finding out you were pregnant with your second child, you and Mathew began looking for a house to live in, figuring an apartment, no matter the size, was too small for the family you both wanted to build.

Mathew holds Isaac in his right arm and wraps his left arm around your waist. You hold Shannon in your left arm with your right arm wrapped around Mathew and look up at him and smile. He smiles back down at you. Anthony knows, after taking way too many polaroids for you two, when to take the photo — when you both inevitably kiss. As he expected, Mathew leans down and kisses you with a wide smile. Anthony holds up the camera and snaps a photo. You both pull back as Anthony hands the photo and camera to you.

“One of your future kids better have Anthony as their middle name or something. Don’t say you’re not having more because we both know the way Barzy is,” he grumbles as he walks back into your newly finished house.

Mathew goes into Isaac’s bedroom to put him down for a nap as you put Shannon down for a nap and grab the tape to put this new polaroid photo on the wall. You put it up and smile at the rows and rows of photos that line the walls. You stand there looking sentimentally at all the memories.

“Hey, you okay?” Mathew asks and rests an arm around your waist.

“Yeah, just look at all the photos from our lives,” you tell him. You rest your head on his chest as you both your eyes trace over the photos. The photos spanned from many different parts of your lives, both together and separately. On the wall, there are many photos of you and Mathew from when you were young, to young adults, to adults living together in New York. On this wall tells the story of how you were best friends from a young age to being lovers to finally being married. The wall tells the stories of you and your friends from high school and college, and it tells the story of Mathew’s hockey career. The wall tells the story of your engagement and marriage. All the photos are a piece of who you both are.

“Here’s to many more photos on this wall,” Mathew says.

“And to maybe another wall dedicated to polaroid photos,” you add on getting a smirk from Mathew.

“The more kids we have, the more photos we’re going to have.”

You giggle. “I thought you didn’t want any more kids.”

“We make some really great kids, so maybe.”

“And it's not because you have a breeding kink?” you tease, and Mathew blushes at your words.

“Maybe it’s because you look great pregnant.”

“So, maybe more kids?” you suggest with a smile.

“Maybe more kids,” Mathew confirms with a kiss on your cheek.

Despite the wall being 75% filled, you knew that your best days were still ahead of you. You couldn’t wait for the future photos that will tell the story of yours and Mathew’s lives together.

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[paildramonnn]

Good luck on your writing endeavors! New year, new content! Here's an idea I'll offer: Ken and Daisuke are voice actors for a cheesy kids anime. Bonus points if Daisuke loves the script and Ken is just desperate for money.

This is the kind of prompt I really love.  Snowglobe AUs are my absolute favorite.  Thank you so much for submitting!  I hope you like it!

The Taller Chronicles racked up three full volumes before it got green-lit for eight episodes by one of the smaller production companies – streaming only.  Children’s anime wasn’t what it used to be, according to the director.  All gimmick and no quality.  But they got a contract with one of the better animation studios, hired a good art director, and left enough aside to pay their actors more than a pittance, which was a nice step up from the usual.

Daisuke auditioned for the role of the hero: Ueda, the plucky and determined eleven-year-old who makes friends every adventure and, at the end of the run, manages to save the day.

Daisuke got the role of the villain: Kuroyashi, the loudmouth who loses his temper every time Ueda foils his plans.

In the lead up to recording, Daisuke read all the manga, talked at some length with the producer and director, and even managed a meeting with the series author, who wasn’t as insightful as Daisuke had hoped.  The enthusiasm was appreciated, all the same.  By the time the show actually airs, Daisuke’s committed to the character one hundred percent.

(It goes like this: Daisuke is on the phone while in line at the grocery store.  It’s a faux pas but Daisuke’s never been all that good with being polite, and it’s his mother, who will blow him up if he doesn’t answer, so whatever.  There is a young-ish couple ahead of him in line, a kid of about six attached with determination to his mother’s hand, but craning around to stare at Daisuke in what can only be suspicion.  Daisuke can’t hear the kid, but he clearly sees him mouth Ueda’s catch phrase while giving him the stink eye – “tsuite masu” – and that’s it.  Daisuke is so proud to be Kuroyashi he might actually be glowing.)

It still stung a little that he didn’t land the Ueda role.  For one, the merch is better on the hero side.  But what really irritates him is how good Ueda’s actor is.  If it had been bad casting, that would be one thing.  Daisuke could at least be smug about it.  But no.  Ichijouji is great.  He’s got this soft, almost sweet voice that you don’t hear the steel in until the stakes are high and some other character is in trouble, and then Ueda might as well be a mountain.  It’s the sort of depth he guesses the casting director didn’t hear in him.

Worse than that, though, is that Ichijouji seems to be a genuinely nice person.  In print interviews, the author is always delighted to point out how good humored Ichijouji is, how polite, how effacing and well spoken.  And in digital format, podcast or video, Ichijouji does actually appear to be all of those things, so he probably isn’t just bribing anyone to give him good face.

Daisuke couldn’t say for certain what kind of person Ichijouji is.  They’ve only met a few times.  The studio they record in is big but they only get one booth at a time, which means that Ichijouji is usually done by the time they bring Daisuke in.  They’ve overlapped once or twice, passing each other in the hall and exchanging polite but impartial greetings.  Hardly the sort of thing that you can hinge an opinion on.  But now that they’re nearing the end of the first season run, it’s time to campaign for a second one, and that means press.  Which means, in turn, plenty of opportunity for the two of them to get to know each other better.

Their first interview together is via conference call, because Ichijouji is already working on another project and is booked solid for another four days.  They squeeze the call in after he finishes up for the day, sounding a little rough through Daisuke’s less than studio quality headphones, but just as polite and eloquent as promised.

Ichijouji praises the hard work that everyone has put in on the show.  Ichijouji praises the series creator, who continues to produce wonderful stories for them.  Ichijouji talks about what a pleasure it is to work on a show that has such an enthusiastic audience.  Ichijouji shares an anecdote about the children in his building finding out who he is.  Ichijouji has perfect hanging all over him, and if Daisuke has to listen to the interviewer giggle flirtatiously one more time, he’s going to interrupt, he really is.

“Were you a fan of the manga before you auditioned?  What made you want to be Ueda?” the man asks, and for the first time since this thing started, Ichijouji surprises Daisuke.

“Oh,” he says, smile still audible in his voice but sheer wattage lowered.  “When my agent told me about the series, I did buy the first volume.  I liked it a great deal.  But, actually, I really wanted to play Kuroyashi.”

Daisuke and the interviewer lap over each other in disbelief:  “What?”

“I think Kuroyashi is really wonderful.  He’s very passionate about everything he does, and I admire that a great deal, even though he doesn’t necessarily want the right things.  I was upset when I didn’t get the part, actually, but Motomiya does such an amazing job with him.  I couldn’t do what he does.”

Daisuke sits forward in his chair so fast he actually manages to bump into his mic.  He bumbles an apology over whatever inane question was going to follow that, and then just keeps going.

“I didn’t know that!  I read for Ueda,” he says, too late to attempt cool detachment but realizing it too late.  “I’ve always played the hero before, you know?  When they told me they wanted me to be the villain, I was pretty mad.  I thought, no one wants to be the bad guy.”

Ichijouji’s laugh is quiet and sweet, just like his character’s, and Daisuke has to bite down on his tongue, hard, to keep in the sudden desire to swear.

A week later, Ichijouji is free and so they meet for another interview in person.  The cafe is European style, not quite busy in the late morning, so it’s easy to spot Ichijouji sitting at a table by himself, cup of coffee already in hand.  Daisuke ignores him for the moment in lieu of caffeine.  His definition of “morning” tends to start a lot later than most people’s.

Ichijouji waves at him, smiling soft and friendly.  “How are you today, Motomiya?”

Daisuke could handle some rivalry before coffee kicks in, but this open pleasantness drags at him.  He collapses into the chair next to Ichijouji, letting himself slump miserably for a few long seconds before rousing, and only that when Ichijouji gives that soft laugh of his again.

“This is my first interview with Animage,” Ichijouji says, confessing or just trying to make Daisuke feel better.

He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with that information, but staring uselessly probably isn’t it, so he clears his throat and opens his mouth, trusting it to do the work for him.  It usually does.

“I did one a few years ago, for this fighting thing I worked on.  They did a spread on all the actors for the hero group, you know?  Just little snippets, really.  It was all done over email.  It wasn’t a big deal.  I mean, it wasn’t like this.”

Ichijouji wraps his hands around his mug and nods.  “Hino,” he says, and Daisuke is so distracted thinking long, pale, slender that the word bounces around between his ears for a bit before his brain actually catches it.

“You, uh.”  He makes startled eye contact and then looks away in a hurry, failing hard at being casual.  He forces a laugh.  “You watched that?”

It wasn’t very good, is the thing.  Pretty rote, as far as fighting stories goes.  It got twelve episodes and then no renewal, due to disinterest by all parties, mostly notably the publisher, who had forced a sudden finale out of the mangaka and moved on to another mediocre title.  The fanbase that was still around had left in bitterness and that was it for Hino and the other heroes.

Daisuke dares another look at Ichijouji, watches him go a little tense, a little pink.  The earth shifts.

“I’ve seen all your work,” Ichijouji says, definitely a confession this time.

Daisuke pictures his CV, all typed out in acting credits.  It’s not that deep, mostly side characters, a few episodes here and there on various longer series, just two leads, and now a single villain role.  It would take some serious trawling to find all of it.  Even Daisuke hasn’t seen all of it.

Daisuke pictures Ken’s filmography: leads in smaller projects, independent studios and short films, two RPGs, a visual novel, and even a couple live action items, from back when he was a teenager.  He actually had to email the distributor of the NVL, to get ahold of a copy.

“Yeah,” Daisuke finally says.  He doesn’t realize he’s still staring until Ichijouji looks up, until he feels the spark of eye contact again.  He smiles.  “Yeah, I’ve.  Yours too.  I mean, to be honest, I had the RPGs before I knew you were in them.”

He has a figure of Ichijouji’s character, too, but he’ll go to his grave with the secret.

Ichijouji goes pinker but holds his gaze, and Daisuke can’t help but lean toward him.

“In the new chapter,” Daisuke says, “when Ueda and Kuroyashi find each other in the haunted house, they can feel their hearts beating together.”

Ichijouji presses his fingertips against the front of his sweater, so gently the fabric barely shifts under the touch, and Daisuke swears he can feel it under his ribs.