#but ue knows how to use them

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

"I thought you said you don't like guns."

"I don't." *uses them.* "Never said I don't know how to use them."

That is a good example of the saying; "It's better to be a warrior in a garden, than a gardener in a war."

[averlym]

,,, sun-dappled sheets...

[rox-of-iu]

got ghosted by sticker printing company 😔😔😔very sad

[sourpeachsayshi]

(size kink mention; drug use mention - all characters are 21+)

midnight snack {feat. you (yuji's best friend) x older brother choso}

it's late when you sneak into choso's room, finding your best friend's older brother wide awake and glued to his screen playing a video game. you softly knock on his door, and he quirks his brow in your direction in acknowledgement.

upon your arrival he speaks into his headphones, notifies whoever he is playing with that he'll be right back.

he knows exactly what you're here for - can tell from how you shyly gaze down at your feet and bite your bottom lip. he tilts his head towards his bed, "come in," he states sweetly, "shut the door behind you"

you do, as always. anticipation sending shivers all over your body.

you sit down on the edge of the mattress, eyes focused on his large frame motioning towards you. he practically meets your height when he kneels right in front you, the smell of weed sticking to his skin, his eyes a little red from the joint he smoked earlier.

the rings on his index and middle finger sparkle when he hooks them both underneath your fleece shorts, his eyes widening as a smile ticks his lips.

"making it easy for me, huh. you in a rush or something?" he teases.

"I left my underwear the last time. yuji found it while he was doing laundry..."

"I know, I told him it belonged to a friend. I still have it in my drawer," choso admits, looking up at you from underneath his shadowy lashes, and noting how your nipples are also poking through your tank top.

"so, is this how you sleep next to yuji whenever stay over?"

your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"he doesn't care," you insist, "he doesn't...pay attention to this kind of stuff..."

"or so you think," choso chuckles, arching forward so his warm breath is fanning across your pulsing cunt.

"it's true-ue...ohhh," your eyes flutter close, you tummy coiling at choso's tongue gliding over the source of your pleasure.

"uh-huh," he laughs in a slightly condescending tone, "try to keep it down this time, sweetheart. I'm still in game..."

[arminreindl]

Fossil Crocs of 2023

2023 has been a year with its ups and downs, but one consistent thing has been its fossil crocs at least, giving us another interesting variety of species and genera not known before. Like last year, I'll go down each of them (including phytosaurs) and give you some key notes. And since I've done my best to make individual posts for them I'll link those when available. I'll also try to give translations where possible, but do note that sometimes I might switch around a word due to it just sounding awkward otherwise.

Scolotosuchus

Starting us off is Scolotosuchus basileus ("royal scythian crocodile"), a basal, rauisuchian-like animal from the early stages of the Triassic. An animal roughly 3 meters long, it is primarily known from vertebrae and some other material, which however does have interesting implications. Based on the anatomy of the vertebrae, it has been speculated that Scolotosuchus performed a lot of rapid movement of the neck, presumably while hunting. Furthermore, it might be that Scolotosuchus lacked osteoderms, instead having developed a bracing system for its body much more like that of dinosaurs and mammals. Artwork by @knuppitalism-with-ue (he'll pop up quite a lot)

Colossosuchus

Fast forward to the Late Triassic, the hayday of early Pseudosuchians, and we find our first phytosaur of the list. Colossosuchus techniensis ("colossal crocodile of the Indian Institute of Technology") was an enormous animal from India's Tiki Formation. This one is known from undisputably better material, perhaps some of the best on this list as we have an entire bone bed of these guys, possibly representing a mass death site. Size estimates of the large specimens generally range from 6 to 9 meters in length, also making it the largest animal of this list, with the authors favoring an estimated 8 meters for the largest individual. Of course this is all subject to change, as we don't know the precise proportions (the downside of a bone bed is that all the bones are kinda jumbled together and god knows what belongs to what). Artwork by Joschua Knüppe again, a female being courted by an overconfident and confused Volcanosuchus (told you so)

Kryphioparma

Ok I won't bother you with this one too much. Kryphioparma caerula ("blue mysterious shield") is an aetosaur from the Late Triassic Chinle Formation of Arizona. Now aetosaurs are cool of course, but the thing is that Kryphioparma is known from exclusively osteoderms, their large armour plates. While thats valid, its also not really exciting (as you could have guessed from the absolute lack of artwork). Best I can say is that it coexisted with a bunch of other aetosaurs, which surely would have been a sight to see back in the day.

Venkatasuchus

Now Venkatasuchus armatum ("Venkata's armoured crocodile") is in a similar boat. This Indian aetosaur too is only known from osteoderms, tho at least a lot more of them that were found together, meaning we got a much better idea of its shape. There are some interesting implications it has on paleogeography and how different animal groups spread across Pangea, but that's probably beyond the scope of this post. There is at least some art of it tho, including one piece by Joschua featuring Jaklapallisaurus, an early sauropodomorph.

Mystriosuchus alleroq

Now we got our first new species of a preexisting genus. While I did my best to make posts on new genera, which typically went hand in hand with their respective wikipedia pages, species are a different matter since they'd require me to overhaul and research the whole genus. Which for Mystriosuchus would go all the way back to 1896.

Anyhow, Mystriosuchus alleroq ("jawbone spoon crocodile") is the newest in a long line of Mystriosuchus species and has been recovered from western Greenland of all places. Like Colossosuchus it is known from multiple individuals, at least four in fact, And like Venkatasuchus, it appears to have wideraning implications for the spread of archosaurs during the Triassic. Oh look its Josch's art again, neat.

Jupijkam

The final phytosaur and the final Triassic taxon of the year, Jupijkam paleofluvialis ("horned serpent of ancient rivers") was recovered from Nova Scotia Canada and represents one of the northernmost phytosaurs (alongside obviously our friend Mystriosuchus alleroq above). It is far less complete than the other phytosaurs I covered so far, but still nothing to scoff at. It's also one of the youngest known phytosaurs, possibly having lived during the last stage of the Triassic. There's no art but here's an image of its snout from the original paper.

Turnersuchus

And with this we have reached the Jurassic and somewhat of a double feature. Ordering these via chronology makes this almost like storytelling. Turnersuchus hingleyae ("Hingley's and Turner's crocodile") is the oldest and basalmost named thalattosuchian, a group of crocodylomorphs that took to the seas. As such it shows a mosaic of features, already having begun to reduce its limbs, having a moderately long snout and still bearing osteoderms, which some of its descendents would come to lose. Turnersuchus dates to the Pliensbachian, a stage of the early Jurassic, tho the paper mentions how its not likely to hold its title as oldest member of its group for long as even older material has been discovered and is awaiting publication. Artwork by Júlia d’Oliveira and Joschua Knüppe

Torvoneustes jurensis

While Turnersuchus gives us a glimpse at what the earliest thalattosuchians were like, Torvoneustes jurensis ("savage swimmer of the Jura Mountains") represents them at one of their most derived. At 4 meters long, it must have been an impressive creature, entirely smooth and lacking osteoderms, highly reduced arms and a tail fluke to boot. There are some interesting features, as unlike other species of Torvoneustes, this one does not appear to have been as durophagous, instead appearing to be more of a generalist. It's the last Jurassic croc of the year and practically lived at the opposite end of this time period relative to our previous thalattosuchian, during the Kimmeridgian. Artwork by Sophie De Sousa Oliveira, not to be confused with Jùlia who drew Turnersuchus.

Comahuesuchus bonapartei

From marine to terrestrial, Comahuesuchus bonapartei is a member of the Notosuchia, land-dwelling cousins to the Neosuchia. This new species is known from the Cretaceous of Argentina and was described on the basis of a lower jaw, which differs from the previously described species of Comahuesuchus by the fact that the teeth are situated in individual sockets. Its jaws were short and wide, being described as U-shaped, giving it a somewhat pug-nosed appearance. In case you're wondering why I don't have the translation of the name thats because I can't access Bonaparte's first paper, so all I can say is that the new species is named after famed Argentinian paleontologist Jóse Fernando Bonaparte. Artwork by I mean you probably guessed it, its Josch again.

Aphaurosuchus kaiju

I have some mixed feelings on Aphaurosuchus kaiju ("powerless kaiju crocodile"), not just because I have to rewrite its genus wikipedia page that I am no longer happy with. No, Aphaurosuchus is a great genus in my opinion, given the complete nature of the holotype. But I do think that the species name of this second form is a bit of an exaggeration, seeing as it is to my knowledge not that exceptionally big. So why name it kaiju other than to sound cool? I also think it just kinda becoms funny when you consider the meaning of the genus name. Anyhow, it does look pretty mean, but thats to be expected from a baurusuchid. It lived during the Late Cretaceous in Brazil and the phylogenetic analysis that accompanied its description had some interesting implications that I'm curious to see tackled in the future. Other than that it's just another baurusuchid from a place crawling with baurusuchids, which tbh is pretty cool itself but doesn't really help make it stand out. Arwork by Paula Zeinner

Dentaneosuchus

It is the middle Eocene. France is entirely occupied by mammals. Well, not entirely... One indomitable reptile still holds out against the invaders. Yes, I am of course talking about Dentaneosuchus ("frightfull crocodile"), the titan of the Eocene, the terror of the jungle. Easily among the most exciting finds, this animal was an enormous sebecid previously thought to be a member of the genus Iberosuchus, but recent research not only shows its distinct but enormous. With a lower jaw around 90 cm long, it rivals even the famed Barinasuchus of Miocene South America. The total body lenght is of course a matter of debate given how little we know about sebecid proportions, with the paper lowballing it at 3 to 4 meters and I personally recovering something more akin to 5 meters. Regardless of the specifics, this would make it easily one of the top predators of its time, tho sadly this was not meant to last. It was among the last non-mammalian apex predators of Europe, before climate change and competition from mammals eventually drove them to extinction. Arwork by Joschua Knüppe and @mariolanzas

Baru iylwenpeny

Our last three entries were all members of the Notosuchia, the terrestrial crocodiles that existed from the Jurassic to the Miocene, so lets jump to the other major group of the time, the Neosuchians, specifically their most recent branch, the Crocodilians. Yes finally we are getting to crocs in the stricter sense.

Baru iylwenpeny ("divine crocodile thats good at hunting") is an animal we also knew for a while under the informal name Alcoota Baru based on where it was found. This year I spent a lot of time writing in the Mekosuchinae, Australasian crocodiles of the Cenozoic and just when I had finished the page for Baru, this guy got published. It's the largest, most robust and most recent member of the genus. Good at hunting is a good choice for the species name, as this animal was over 4 meters long with a head commonly likened to a cleaver and a hunting style speculated to consist of inflicting a lot of trauma on its prey with its massive teeth. I could gush about Baru for ages, but thats the important parts. It lived in central Australia during the Miocene only 8 million years ago. Artwork by the incredible @manusuchus

Antecrocodylus

Now for the last crocodilian described this year and one I remised to make a dedicated post for due to time constraints (I had a busy few months). Antecrocodylus chiangmuanensis ("before Crocodylus from Chiang Muan") is a close relative of the modern dwarf and true crocodiles from the Miocene of Thailand. It is only known from the back of the skull and an associated lower jaw, but it serves to highlight how little we know about the crocodiless of eastern Asia during the Miocene, which is a shame given that this region is crucial to deciphering where true crocodiles originated.

Alligator munensis

And our final taxon is Alligator munensis ("Mun river alligator"), which, obviously, is a member of the modern genus Alligator and thus most closely related to the still extant Chinese and American Alligator. Likely having been split from its Chinese relatives when the Tibetan plateau was lifted up, this species lived during the middle Pleistocene in Thailand and may have survived until the Holocene. It's head was short and robust and its teeth globular, which could indicate that it fed on hard-shelled prey like clams and snails. It was also small, likely not much bigger than 1.5 meters. Artwork by Joschua Knüppe

And that should be all of them, all new species and genera of Pseudosuchians described this past year. It's once again been fun to look back and I hope that you find them just as interesting as I do. Lets hope that 2024 will bring equally fascinating discoveries.

[thefadecodex]

Our first real exposure actually beings with the Grand Oak tree in DAO! (Thank you @meganooooooooooooooo for pointing this out!)

Players began to notice a distinct cadence in Solas's speech during interactions in DAI. Notably, when he recounts moments from the Fade, his voice occasionally takes on a rhythm and tone reminiscent of a hymn or chant, evoking the cadence of "Hallelujah," specifically the K.D. Lang cover.

(note: @the-northern-continent does a great breakdown of the Hallelujah cadence vs iambic pentameter in this post. And @liaragaming does a good breakdown of Solas speaking in that cadence in this post.)

This has led The Fade Codex to theorize that this cadence reflects a dialect used by spirits—an ancient, rhythmic way of communication that blends emotion and intent through a deliberate structure. The 6/8 musical framework of the K.D. Lang Hallelujah cover. This framework prioritizes reflective pacing, 1-2-3 / 4-5-6 measures, and allows secondary stresses to create an emotional cadence.

This concept is further explored in Dragon Age: The Veilguard through various encounters with spirits. Below are examples that demonstrate this rhythmic, almost lyrical, pattern in their speech:

The Anxious Spirit (A Spirit of Comfort) - Arlathan Forest

"Trapped. Can't get out. It hurts. It's dark. Please. They didn't know what to do. They didn't want to die."

TRAPPED. CAN'T get OUT. It HURTS. It's DARK. PLEASE. They DIDN'T know what to DO. They DIDN'T want to DIE.

"Stop the thoughts. Stop the fears. Quiet, please. Make it quiet."

STOP the THOUGHTS. STOP the FEARS. QUI-et, PLEASE. MAKE it QUI-et.

Eulogy (Originally a Spirit of Compassion) - Minrathous

"Something larger stirs. Calling the desperate. I cannot see what."

SOME-thing LARG-er STIRS. CALL-ing the DES-per-ATE. I CAN-not SEE what.

"Know the hope you bring Dock Town thwarts it. And may you continue."

KNOW the HOPE you BRING. DOCK TOWN THWARTS it. AND may YOU con-TIN-ue.

"As you found their names, I felt them whisper through the Fade."

As YOU found their NAMES, I FELT them WHIS-per THROUGH the FADE.

"My own name changed. I am now Eulogy."

My OWN name CHANGED. I AM now EU-lo-GY.

Hope Unyielding - Hossberg Wetlands

"Light glimmers the surface. Flowers break through snow. Hope unexpected. I am such."

LIGHT glim-MERS the SUR-face. FLOW-ers BREAK through SNOW. HOPE un-EXPECT-ed. I AM SUCH.

"No. But nor was I forever."

NO. But NOR was I for-EV-er.

Pluck - Hall of Valor

"What foul-hearted spirit tugs at the corners of your lips to turn them down so?"

What FOUL-heart-ed SPIR-it tugs at the COR-ners of your LIPS to TURN them DOWN so?

"Greetings, Mourn Watcher. You are a long ways from Nevarra."

GREET-ings, MOURN Watch-er. YOU are a LONG ways from Ne-VAR-ra.

Emmrich (to Pluck)

"Hail to you, child of Valor. As voice of our lightless shores, I pray your blade may never sunder."

HAIL to YOU, child of VAL-or. As VOICE of our LIGHT-less SHORES, I PRAY your BLADE may NEV-er SUN-der.

Pluck

"You honor me. Few remember the old ways."

You HON-or ME. Few re-MEM-ber the OLD WAYS.

The phrase "the old ways," as used by Pluck, is believed to reference this rhythmic, cadenced speech. It’s a pattern steeped in intent, echoing the emotional resonance of the Fade itself.

Grand Oak - West Brecilian Forest

(image source)

What manner of beast be thee that comes before this elder tree?

What MAN-ner of BEAST be THEE that COMES be-FORE this EL-der TREE?

Ahhhh, yes, I remember thy kind. So brief of life and all but blind to the peril you cause, the lives you take, such chaos is down within thy wake.

AHHH, yes, I re-MEM-ber THY kind. SO brief of LIFE and ALL but BLIND. To the PER-il you CAUSE, the LIVES you TAKE. Such CHA-os is DOWN with-IN thy WAKE.

This dialect may serve as both a form of communication and an expression of a spirit's essence, allowing them to convey ideas, emotions, and purpose in a way that transcends mere words.

This theory deepens our understanding of how spirits interact with mortals and each other, highlighting the unique and poetic nature of their existence.

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Show & Tell (M, cold)

Mark & Matt are back! In this, Matt has an awful cold and they have a busy night. That's pretty much it lol, there's a good amount of ~drama~ because who doesn't love drama? This takes place a couple months after 'Three', when Matt and Mark are dating but haven't told Greyson or Elijah and I'll be honest I've spent a lot of time on it and don't know if I even like it lmao. I hope you guys do, though!! It might suck, who knows!! Also, there's no sick character POV - it switches between Mark and Greyson's POV.

Ok, onward. Let me know how you guys feel about it lol.

CW: Male snz, cold, contagion mention, coughing, fever.

Show & Tell

“It’s not that I don’t want them to know. You know that.”

Mark gave his boyfriend a sidelong look; did he know that? He wasn’t so sure. “Matt,” he said, treading carefully, “it’s been three months. They’re going to figure it out sooner or later.”

Matt sighed, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. “I know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… I mean, Greyson can be… I don’t know… touchy, I guess, about like, relationship stuff. Especially since the whole… Collin thing. And also, he can just be an asshole about dating within the kitchen. You remember when he caught us kissing.”

“Yeah, but I mean that’s just what you guys do, right? Poke fun at each other? And the Collin thing… That was, like, a year ago, Matt. He’s a grown man.”

There was a pause, then, and Mark knew he’d gone too far. Greyson and Matt’s relationship was way more than boss and employee; Greyson had taken a chance on Matt when no one else would. He’d given him opportunities that Matt couldn’t have dreamed of as a kid, and Matt was always quick to point that out when Mark grumbled about Greyson’s anger, or when he called Matt in on his day off, or the way he made fun of Matt making doe-eyes at Mark. Greyson has been there for me since the moment I met him, he always said. You have to take the good with the bad.

More often than not, Mark found himself rolling his eyes at this statement, or muttering Whatever, babe, under his breath, but he also didn’t want to push his new beau away. If Greyson was a weird non-participatory third in their burgeoning relationship… so be it. He’d put up with it, for Matt.

“Hey, I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean that; I know, you’re right, he’s been through it.” Mark pulled Matt in for a hug, making the other man soften. “I’m just saying,” Mark said, pulling away, “that if he doesn’t already know, he’s going to have to find out eventually. Right?”

Matt shrugged, then begrudgingly nodded. “You’re right, you’re right, just… I don’t know, give me a week. Let me take him out and actually tell him so it’s not just, like, a big joke that he parades through the kitchen. Okay?”

Mark smiled. “Okay. Yes, that works. Thank you, baby.” He swept Matt’s bangs off his face, allowed a frown to settle over his own. “You feel really warm. By the way.”

Without missing a beat, Matt pulled away and ducked into the sleeve of his hoodie. “Hh-! Hh’ITSZH-ue!”

“Bless you.”

“I’m okay,” Matt said in response. “Like I said before, I think it’s just allergies.”

“...Fever-inducing allergies?”

“Honey,” Matt said, pulling a hand down his face, “please drop it. We have like two hundred on the books tonight, it’s not like I could call out or anything.”

“So you feel badly enough to call out?” Mark asked, crossing his arms. Matt sighed, loudly enough for Mark to hear the congestion in his chest rattle.

“No,” Matt said. “I don’t.”

“Mmm.”

“Can we go back to arguing about me telling Greyson and Elijah we’re dating? I’d prefer that over getting the third degree about what is, at most, a cold,” Matt said, rubbing his nose on his sleeve. Mark raised an eyebrow.

“So now it’s a cold. Moments ago, you said it was allergies. What’s it going to be by the time you get to work? Bubonic plague?”

“I was thinking something a little more modern. Maybe scarlet fever. Hh- hh’ISHHH-uhh!” Matt crumpled to the side once again, and Mark sighed.

“Hilarious,” he said, deadpan. “You should take some dayquil, or something.”

“I’m okay, honey, really,” Matt said, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you this evening, okay?”

Mark hesitated; what would a good boyfriend do here? He assumed a good boyfriend would scoop Matt into his arms and place him in bed. A good boyfriend would call in for Matt – hell, call in for both of them so he could take care of his boyfriend – and tell Greyson and Elijah to figure it out, restaurant-be-damned. He’d spoon-feed Matt soup and they’d watch Criminal Minds and talk about who on the show was the most objectively fuckable and they’d fall asleep early and in the morning, Matt would be good as new.

But a good boyfriend would also tell their bosses they were dating; a good boyfriend wouldn’t put the onus on Matt to tell Greyson before Mark told Elijah because Greyson was an objectively harder person to tell. A good boyfriend wouldn’t give Matt shit for being nervous because him telling Greyson was akin to Mark telling his own father he was gay and fuck, Matt didn’t even have a father to tell, you asshole, you inconsiderate piece of shit.

He wasn’t a good boyfriend, that much he knew. So instead of manning up in any way whatsoever, Mark nodded and kissed Matt on his hot forehead. “See you tonight,” he said, and continued to kick himself as Matt trudged out the front door.

***

“They’ll tell us when they’re ready.”

Greyson rolled his eyes so hard that they felt like they might pop out of his head. “Oh c’mon, Lij, that’s such a cop-out,” he said, snapping inventory papers onto a clipboard and clicking a pen open and shut many more times than was necessary. “It’s been, what? Like almost four months since the whole making-out-in-my-bathroom incident? And it’s not like they’re good at hiding it, I think Matt slaps Mark’s ass fifty times a day.”

“Is that really new, though? You slap Matt’s ass fifty times a day,” Elijah said, glancing up from his own, much-better-organized inventory clipboard. “I thought ass-slapping was just par for the course in this kitchen. You’ve created a culture of ass-slapping.”

“That’s within the kitchen boundary, Lij,” Greyson said, his index finger and thumb pressed together and punctuating each word of this statement. “Mark is outside the kitchen boundary. The rules are different.”

Elijah snorted out a laugh. “My mistake,” he said, flipping the first page on his clipboard and examining the second. “I figured that culture extended to the whole restaurant.”

“Damn right your mistake,” Greyson muttered. He glanced back down at his papers, then tossed the clipboard on the desk and snatched Elijah’s out of his hand to toss as well.

“Dude,” Elijah said, “I was using that.”

“Do you think Matt’s scared to tell me?” Greyson asked, ignoring Elijah’s annoyance. “It’s not like I’d care. I mean, the whole thing makes sense, they spend seventy hours a week here together. It’s not like it’s easy to find someone to date outside this place, and trust me, it’s not like he’s missing out on anything in the regular world. Shit, if you were down, I’d start dating you.”

“I’d rather eat a jean jacket than date you,” Elijah said, leaning on an elbow on the desk. “And that’s not even because you don’t have my preferred equipment, it’s because of who you are. Fundamentally. As a person.”

“I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t just tell me,” Greyson said, ignoring Elijah’s statement outright. “Matt’s my dude. He’s my muse. He’s like if I had a kid, but didn’t have to do the gross horrible raising him part. He knows he can tell me anything.”

Elijah sighed, a heavy and resigned sound, and took the bait. “Grey,” he said, “yes, he knows he can tell you anything, but he also knows he’s going to get so much shit from you when he does tell you. I’m sure he’s just trying to spare himself the three weeks of jokes about the two of them dating. Maybe, if you could be serious for five fuckin’ minutes, you could approach him and ask him, hey, are you and Mark dating?” Elijah shrugged, both hands held in front of him as though to say just an idea.

Greyson scoffed, annoyed. “You’re one to talk. It’s not like Mark has told you.”

“Yeah, but Mark and I are coworkers. We don’t have some weird father/son codependent relationship like you two. Plus, Mark is only a talker when he drinks and he hasn’t had more than a glass of wine in front of me since they got together, so he knows I know he’s avoiding the conversation.” Elijah gave Greyson a pointed look then. “I’m sure he’s waiting for Matt to tell you. Dad.”

The chef rolled his eyes again and pushed himself to a standing position. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going to talk to him about it today. And I’ll be serious.”

“Great,” Elijah said, picking his clipboard back up. “I’m happy for both of you.”

Greyson placed a hand on Elijah’s shoulder as he walked out of the office and towards the prep kitchen, a gesture to thank him for the pep talk, and Elijah nodded in understanding. It wasn’t the fact that Matt had a not-so-well-kept secret that Greyson found troubling; it was the fact that he felt like he wasn’t able to tell his boss that hurt Greyson’s feelings. The chef got set up in the prep kitchen, pulled out his chef’s knife, and began sharpening it on his steel. He really thought he’d put it in Matt’s head that he could tell him anything. Apparently he’d been wrong.

As if summoned, Matt picked that exact moment to blow through the back kitchen doors – he was wearing a sweatshirt, despite the fact that it was unseasonably warm, and his hood was up. Greyson drew his eyebrows together, confused.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Greyson called from his prep station. Matt swung around, obviously not expecting to see his boss the moment he walked in, and his face immediately crumpled.

“Hh- hhNGTSHZ-ue!” Matt attempted to stifle a sneeze into his elbow, which backfired immediately. “ITSZZHH-ue! Hh’ITZCHH-ue! HRRSHH-ue!”

Greyson blinked, surprised, as his sous gave into the paroxysm. “Wow,” he said when Matt finally stood upright, clearing his throat. “Bless.”

Matt nodded, swallowed, winced. “Yeah. Thangks,” he said, his voice low and congested. He walked towards the prep station – slunk may have been the more appropriate word – and hoisted his knife bag onto the counter. The next few moves seemed robotic, as though the sous chef were on autopilot; push hoodie off head. Roll up sleeves. Unzip bag. Make eye contact with boss. “What ndeeds to get prepped first?”

Up close, Matt looked like an even bigger pile of hot garbage than he sounded; he was pale – sallow, Greyson thought to himself, then vocab word of the day -, his eyes red-rimmed and laden with bags. His breathing seemed painful, labored, and uneven, and before Greyson could say anything, Matt turned back to his rolled-up sleeve to cough. “Dude,” Greyson said, taking a step back.

“Sorry, sorry,” Matt muttered, getting himself together. He walked to the sink and washed his hands, then turned back to Greyson. “Better?”

“That wasn’t what I meant by ‘dude’,” Greyson said, taking a step towards his sous and slapping a hand on his forehead. “That was ‘dude’ as in ‘dude, you look like fucking shit’.”

Matt wiggled out from under Greyson’s hand, annoyed. “I’mb fine, Chef,” he said. “Tell mbe what needs to get done.”

Greyson rubbed his face and gathered his hair on top of his head, buying time. Obviously, the conversation about him and Mark was off the table for the moment, but were they not allowed to talk about Matt’s very obvious illness, either? “Did you take anything?” Greyson asked, ignoring his sous’ question with one of his own.

“I was running late. Also, I don’t ndeed anythi- ITTTSZZHH-ue! HRSHHH-uh!” Matt folded himself in half to avoid sneezing in Greyson’s face, and collapsed into a coughing fit from the force of them. Greyson pressed his lips together.

“Where’d you pick this shit up?” Greyson asked, patting Matt’s back as the younger man tried to compose himself. “You haven’t been out on the prowl with me in months, so I take no blame.”

It was an attempt – a very obvious one – to get Matt to admit he was at least seeing someone, but either Matt wasn’t taking the bait or he didn’t hear him over his own misery. He cleared his throat and stood to his full height. “Can we please just start cooking? I ndeed a distraction.”

Greyson pressed his lips together; somehow, they’d had a whole conversation without really saying anything, a whole back-and-forth with not one question answered. “Okay,” Greyson said, stepping to the side to let Matt get situated at the prep table. “I’m going to grab some shit from the walk-in. You get set up.”

Matt nodded, obviously grateful, and started setting up his things while Greyson turned towards the walk-in.

Well, he thought to himself, sarcastically. That was productive.

***

“Alright, everyone, so we have 245 on the books toni -”

“HhuhhhITSZHHH-ue! Huh-! HhhRRSHH-oo!”

The servers’ heads popped up from their notes in unison and turned towards the closed kitchen doors, ten yards away. Mark cringed; Elijah raised his eyebrows towards Greyson, and the Executive Chef sighed and stood. “I’m gonna go check and make sure he didn’t burst a blood vessel,” he joked, prompting a collective giggle from the servers. Mark felt his heart sink deep into the pit of his stomach.

At his apartment this morning, Matt had clearly been coming down with something. Since he’d arrived at work, it was clear that whatever it was had settled in nicely; Mark had only been at work for two hours, but in those he’d heard Matt sneeze more than he had the entirety of their relationship.

“Jesus,” Mark had said when he first saw Matt, doubled over behind the prep table. “That really went from zero to a hundred. I just saw you, like, four hours ago.”

Matt had attempted to clear his throat before addressing his boyfriend: “Yeah, I guess,” he said, pushing the sleeves of his hoodie down to his wrists and shivering. Mark wanted desperately to tell him to go lay down in a booth or something – better yet, to tell him to go home and go to bed – but he knew he couldn’t do either.

“Can I get you some tea?” he asked instead, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from feeling Matt’s face for fever. Matt shook his head.

“’M fine,” he managed, picking his knife back up and wiping his hands on the front of his apron. “’S just a stupid cold.”

That had been about as far as their conversation had gone; Mark had been whisked away by Elijah to help set the floor up, and Matt had been forced to put his head back down and continue prepping. Normally, Matt would’ve been in pre-shift with the rest of the team, but Greyson had explained when everyone sat down that he was attempting to gain his second wind in the office and wouldn’t be joining.

“Anyway,” Mark continued, addressing the servers while Greyson stood to check on Matt, “like I said: 245 on the books. We do have a few VIPs…”

The servers jotted down what they needed to, and Mark finished his speech on autopilot. Elijah said something about uniforms being cleaned and pressed, and Greyson came back to join them all after a minute or two spent in the kitchen. When pre-shift ended, Greyson stopped Mark from walking away with the rest of the front of house.

“Mark,” Greyson said as the servers went to eat family meal, “hold back a second.”

Mark could feel himself immediately break into a cold sweat; Greyson never wanted to talk to him after pre-shift. Had he fucked up somehow? He knew they were too busy – overbooked, really – but Elijah had approved it. Said they needed the extra covers, since they’d be closed for a week next month. Maybe Elijah hadn’t told Greyson he’d approved the overbooking? Maybe -

“Hey, I just – I wanted to talk to you about Matt,” Greyson said when the servers had all exited to the kitchen. Mark swallowed, his throat dry. Oh.

“What about him?” Mark asked, his heart beating in his temples. Greyson huffed out a little laugh.

“You guys are dating,” he said – not a question. A statement. Mark’s face flamed.

“Did he – have you guys talked?” he asked, feeling his throat close. Greyson shook his head, a smile blooming on his face.

“Nope,” he said, palming Mark’s shoulder. “But now we don’t need to. Elijah!” he called into the kitchen, and Mark felt himself fly into action. He stumbled in front of Greyson before the chef could walk through the kitchen doors.

“Chef,” he said, holding his arms out so Greyson couldn’t get by, “you can’t tell Matt that you know. Seriously, he’ll kill me, he – I mean, he wanted to tell you himself, he said he was going to, like, sit you down and tell you and -”

“Sit me down? He’s not breaking up with me to be with you, I’m so fuckin’ confused why you guys haven’t just told us, it’s not like it’s a big deal -”

“It’s a big deal to him,” Mark said, cutting Greyson off. “It’s a big deal to Matt. I think – fuck, I don’t know, Chef, I think it’s like… you’re his person he gets to tell. You know? And he’s not feeling well and we kind of argued about it this morning and… please,” Mark said, biting his cheek to keep from crying. “Please, Chef. Just… he’ll tell you. Just wait for him to tell you.”

Greyson closed his eyes and sighed. “Fine. Okay. I’ll wait till the end of the week,” he said, moving Mark’s arm to get into the kitchen. “But if he hasn’t said anything by then, I’m saying something.”

Mark just nodded, and let Greyson by. You fucking moron, he chided himself. You absolute asshole. You gave it away, Matt is going to be so fucking disappointed, you’re such a dick, you can’t even let him have this one fucking thing. You just have to fuck everything up somehow. What the fuck is wrong with you?

What the FUCK is wrong with you?

***

Greyson would have been hard-pressed to think of a more difficult service than this one was turning out to be.

It had started fine; the flow of the evening was laid out well, the first turn went off basically without a hitch. Matt was on middle, and had loaded up on every medicine the office pharmacy had to offer, so while he was a little… high, honestly, he was at least in good spirits and able to do his job.

“We doing okay back there, everyone?” Greyson asked, peeking past the board filled with tickets to acknowledge his cooks, and Matt.

“Yes, Chef,” they answered – all except Matt, who hooted as though Greyson was a singer asking his audience how everyone was feeling out there. Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing.

“Only two hundred covers to go!” Greyson shouted as the printer spat out yet another ticket. “Order in, two salmon, three pork.”

About sixty covers in, things began to turn; the servers began to slow down, sending their food in as fire-alls instead of coursed out. The bar became backed up, so Mark was taking bartop guest’s orders and ringing them all in at once, sending a huge wave of tickets in at once – annoying, sure, but something they could handle. But then, tickets stopped coming in altogether – first, for five minutes. Then seven. Then ten.

“Elijah!” Greyson called into the dining room, not caring if the guests heard. The GM ran in at the sound of his name. “The fuck is going on, dude? We have ZERO tickets on the board.”

Elijah winced. “Yeah,” he said, “everyone is camping. We have like thirty people waiting to sit.” Greyson blinked.

“You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not.”

“So you’re telling me, at least thirty people are going to sit down all at once. And order all at once.”

Elijah nodded, solemn. “I wish I wasn’t, but yes, Chef, that’s what I’m telling you.”

Of course, by the time the first set of guests got up and the second set sat down, they had a new problem: Matt.

It was seven o’clock; Matt had taken his last dose of medicine at four, and sitting around waiting on tickets to come rolling in again had stopped the flow of adrenaline. His misery seemed to have caught up with him completely just as the tickets started printing again.

“Order in,” Greyson called for the tenth time in three minutes, “a scallop, three filets, and a venison no dairy.”

“Heard, Che – HTSHH-uh!” Matt wrenched to the side to sneeze into the sleeve of his chef’s coat, an angry, grating sound that made the cooks wince. He coughed painfully into his shoulder, obviously trying to hold back. Greyson bit his cheek.

“Bless, Chef,” he called over the line, pulling yet another stream of tickets. “Christ… ok, guys, I’m going to read all these but let’s just focus on what I just called for now, these people… I mean, they’re going to have to wait.”

“Yes, Chef,” the cooks called – all except Matt. Instead of the goofy whoops from earlier in the evening, Matt responded by ducking beneath the line.

“HRRSHH! Huh-! Hh’ITZZHH-uh! NGTSHZZH-ue! Hh… hhhuh-ITZSHH-ue!” Matt covered his head with his arms, careful not to spray them, and sneezed into his lap until he sounded hoarse. Greyson could hear him attempt to sniffle, to no avail. He stood, shakily, and cleared his throat. “Heard, Chef,” he whispered, his voice hanging on by a thread.

Greyson pressed his lips together, feeling the temperature of his blood raising. God, this fucking kid – he should’ve stayed home, what good was it doing anyone having him here, sneezing himself hoarse, coughing til he was dizzy, probably infecting all the cooks and most likely over or under cooking all the fish. Greyson wanted to snap, Pull it together, but held back.

“Bless, Chef,” he called again, pointedly. Matt just nodded, dazed.

“Go ahead and call the ndext tickets, Chef,” Matt croaked. Greyson sighed, looked up, and yanked the tickets off the printer.

“Order in,” he said again, and again, and again.

***

The dining room was a fucking disaster.

Mark’s head felt like it was screwed on backwards; he could feel himself failing, and with every misstep he hated himself more. Can’t you put the tickets in right? Tracy asked you to help take the order for 32, have you gotten over there? This bar is filled with drinks, the hell are you doing?

If the dining room wasn’t bad enough, in the kitchen Greyson was clearly about to be sent straight over the edge.

“I need runners!” he called from expo, loud enough for everyone in the dining room to hear. Mark cringed, dropped what he was doing, and ran into the kitchen. The printer wouldn’t stop; the window was filled with plates, and the servers were tripping over themselves to get the food onto trays and out into the dining room.

“Mark! Take these, table 24,” Greyson said, pressing three scorching-hot plates into the floor manager’s hands. “And come right back, this fucking food is going to go bad in about three seconds. Order in!”

Mark took the food, dropped it, assessed the red marks on his hands and wrists and headed back to the kitchen. All of this would’ve been par for the course for a Saturday night, really, if not for -

“HTTSHH! HRRRSHH-uh! Hh’NGTTSZHH-ue!”

Matt.

The whole staff could tell he was fading fast. It was eight-thirty, and since about seven he hadn’t managed to go more than a couple minutes without collapsing into a fit of sneezes or coughs. His voice was completely gone at this point, and Mark could tell – even from ten feet away – that he had a pretty significant fever. All of this seemed to just further enrage Greyson.

“Chef,” Greyson called behind the line. “Get your third wind, I’m fucking dying up here I need this food out now! Order in, three salmon, two filets!”

“Yes, Chef,” Matt called, his voice so mangled Mark wasn’t sure how he’d even managed to get the words out. God, this was bad. This was so fucking bad.

***

There was no way they were going to get through all these tickets. There was just no fucking way.

It all felt like a nightmare at this point; Greyson was up to his elbows in tickets that just kept flowing. The food was dying in the windows, servers were grabbing shit that wasn’t theirs and fucking up what little flow they had going. Elijah was pouring free wine because ticket times were over forty minutes. And Matt was completely and totally stick-a-fork-in-him done.

At nine-fifteen, with twenty tickets on the board, Greyson looked up to ask his sous if table 55 was going to be up anytime soon; only to see Matt, caught in pre-sneeze torture with a knife in his right hand, moments away from splitting his left hand open.

“Matt!” Greyson screamed, and the sous chef snapped out of his daze and dropped the knife onto the cutting board. He gasped at the realization that he’d been millimeters away from maiming himself.

Enough is enough, Greyson thought to himself. “Mark!” he called into the dining room, not caring who could hear him. “Come and get your biohazard boyfriend and take him fucking home!”

The kitchen went completely silent. Matt blinked, clearly trying to unpack what he’d just heard, before wrenching to the side. “HHHITSZZHH-ue!”

Mark and Elijah burst into the kitchen then; tickets lined the board. Food lined the window. Matt was crouched down behind the line, and Greyson’s eyes were wild.

“Take him home,” Greyson said, making eye contact with Mark. “Or to urgent care. Or maybe straight to the cemetery. I don’t care where he goes, but he needs to get off my line.”

Mark nodded, and stepped behind the line to gather Matt, who slumped into his boyfriend’s arms. Greyson watched Mark hold Matt close, felt his chest contract when he heard his sous chef whisper, “Baby, I don’t feel good,” into his boyfriend’s chest.

“Go,” Greyson insisted. Mark helped Matt off the line, lead him into the office and pulled his hoodie over his chef’s coat, and walked him towards the back exit. Thank you, Mark mouthed to Greyson, who just nodded in response.

Once they were through the back doors, Elijah stepped forward. “Get back there and help them,” he said. “I’ll do expo. We’ll get through it.”

“We always do,” Greyson muttered, and pushed past his cooks to get to the middle of the line. “Alright: let’s land this fuckin’ bitch of a night in the harbor.”

***

The quiet calm of Matt’s apartment was in such direct opposition to the prior evening at work that Mark felt he might actually have whiplash.

The floor manager checked his phone for the tenth time since he’d woken up twenty minutes before. Elijah, via text, had filled him in about what happened after he and Matt left; it had been a shit show, but they’d gotten it done. There had been worse nights, Elijah said, though Mark couldn’t remember one. His boss let him know that he’d closed the restaurant for the day, to give everyone a well-deserved break. Thank God.

Greyson had texted both Mark and Matt apologizing for outing their relationship, and told Matt he could take as much time off as he needed – not that Matt had seen it yet. The sous chef had passed out the second his head hit the pillow the night previous, and he hadn’t stirred in over twelve hours.

Mark had responded to Greyson; it’s all good, Chef, though he wasn’t sure he really believed himself. He was glad that Greyson had told Mark to step up, to get Matt out and take care of him. But Matt… fuck, he was going to be upset when he woke up.

Speaking of which.

“Has anyone ever told you you text really loud?” Matt croaked quietly over Mark’s shoulder. Mark slammed his phone onto the bed and rolled over to face his boyfriend.

“No, I don’t think I’ve gotten that one before,” Mark said, caressing Matt’s face. Matt smiled, a little sadly. “How’re you feeling?”

“Mmm. Like hot fuckigg garbage,” Matt whispered, closing his eyes. “Tired. Shitty. Fuckigg embarrassed.”

Mark pressed his lips together; he wasn’t sure what to say. He settled on: “Can I make you some tea?”

Matt huffed out a little laugh that turned into a nasty-sounding cough. “In a mbinute,” he said, “I just wandt to lay with you for now.”

So they did. A silence fell over the two of them – Mark stroking Matt’s hot face, Matt with his eyes closed. After a few minutes, Matt opened his red, rheumy eyes. “So, he kndows.”

Mark felt his heart sink. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess he does.”

Silence surrounded them again. “I guess I should’ve kndown,” Matt said.

“I’m sorry,” Mark said. Matt smiled a little.

“You were right,” he teased. “You’re always right.”

“I’m rarely right,” Mark corrected. “But I think we made it pretty obvious.”

“Mmm,” Matt hummed again. A beat went by where neither of them said anything, until Matt’s body took over. “HHRSSHH-uhhh!” he sneezed, exhausted, into his hand and wiped it on the comforter. Mark couldn’t help but laugh.

“Bless you,” he said. Matt smiled, eyes closed.

“You’re gonna get so sigck,” he muttered, on the edge of sleep again already.

“Yeah,” Mark said, pressing a soft kiss onto his boyfriend’s lips. “That sounds accurate.”

Matt opened his eyes, slowly. “You kndow I love you. Right?”

A firework lodged itself into Mark’s aorta, blew his heart right to bits. “Really?” he asked, the wrong answer, but his first reaction all the same. Matt laughed in earnest.

“Really,” he said, closing his eyes again.

“I love you, Matt. God, I love you,” Mark said, kissing Matt’s lips again. “I’m sorry about last night. I love you. Thank you. I love you.”

Matt opened one eye this time, touched Mark’s face, and closed it again. “Thangk you,” he murmured. “’M gonna go back to sleep ndow. If that’s cool with you.”

“Go to sleep, baby,” Mark said, his heart so full he was sure it would burst. “I love you.”

And even though Matt was already snoring by the time he had said it again, he couldn’t seem to stop muttering it in time with his boyfriend’s snores. I love you. I love you. I love you.

[lookismfanfics]

Hii! Hope you're doing okay. May I request some of the characters accidentally hitting their calm maleReader instead of the enemy and now he's getting a huge bruise on where they hit him? thx u

Idk how many characters I'm allowed to choose so I'm just gonna name a few and you can pick..? 😅

Jake / Vasco / Zack / Jace / Vin Jin / Warren / Megumi / Goo

“𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐝!”

Warnings: Mentions of violence, fluff, not really fluff though, cursing, mentions of balls.

Jake • Vasco • Zack • Jace • Vin • Warren • Megumi • Goo

Hey anon! I’m doing good, thanks for asking! ♡︎ I decided to do everyone you requested because yes 😩 I also changed it up a little with the “enemy” part. Some of them are petty interactions, and others are full-fledged brawls lol.

𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ✧ He was focusing a little too hard.

✧ The same mantra kept echoing in Jake’s mind, urging him on: “keep fighting.”

✧ He was just a little caught up in everything, that’s all—

✧ He was absorbed in hearing the definitive crack of his opponents nose, feeling the warm spew of blood that followed a hit to the ribs, seeing the trail of bodies that followed his path

✧ These suckers were really something. There were so many of them, and they had been harassing this area for long enough

✧ Jake had called out to Jerry to ask “Where is he?” But hadn’t gotten a response

✧ Then there’s a rustle behind him

✧ A sneak attack.

✧ Instincts go: 📈

✧ He whips around, just barely seeing the glint of purpose in his opponents eyes

✧ “Jake!”

✧ He feels the warm contact of hitting a cheek. But Jake isn’t stupid and realizes his fatal error

✧ I mean… who would’ve guessed that the opponent would duck?

✧ “Sorry (Y/N)! Where’ve you been-?” He pants

✧ Honestly Jake has never been more ashamed. He did hit him, didn’t he?

✧ (Y/N) doesn’t seem fazed, he just keeps up whatever he was doing. “It’s fine… I’ve just been around.”

✧ The man is hardly panting… damn you (Y/N). You’re attractive even when you aren’t trying…

✧ (That’s what Jake thinks anyways)

𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ✧ As soon as the fight is over, Jake runs.

✧ His dress shoes slam against what bare concrete is left, avoiding the piles of unconscious and semi-conscious bodies.

✧ He tries not to panic. He has to play it cool, and not throw a fit.

✧ Eventually, he finds you talking to Brad, nursing your busted fists with your back to him. Jake let’s out a sigh, “Pretty nasty hit you took there.”

✧ A playful smile toys at his lips as he observes you. You turn to him, seemingly unscathed, nodding with a small smile, “Uh, yeah. Nice punch Boss.”

✧ He tries not to let the use of formalities affect him too much. (Inwardly wounded)

✧ “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, this time with a note of concern.

✧ “He thinks he has a concussion, boss,” Brad interrupts, just the hint of a smile intermingled with his serious tone.

✧ You ignore Jake’s slacked jaw and bewildered look, eyeing Brad tiredly, “So much for keeping a secret.”

✧ “You shouldn’t keep secrets from the boss- or your boyfr—”

✧ “(Y/N),” Jake drags his finger beneath your chin, prompting you to turn to him. “Is that tr…ue?”

✧ It’s not the thought of a concussion that made Jake stop.

✧ It’s…

✧ 😰

✧ “Your cheek… is this the one I hit?”

✧ You nod.

✧ “Well uh~ not to worry you but… it’s bruising just a little~” “It’s fine Jake-”

✧ Apparently he didn’t think it was “fine”.

✧ Jakes brows furrow together as he examines you. With the way his eyes darken and his smiles fades, He looks beyond apologetic; it’s as if guilt seeps into his every movement.

✧ “You don’t have to worry about it,” you smile. There’s not even the slightest hint of anxiety in your voice, but it does nothing to reassure Number One of Big Deal.

✧ “Yeah but you know I will,” he smirks half-heartedly, quickly reverting back to his worried face.

✧ He’s never letting it go. Every time he sees the splotch of that massive dark bruise, he feels the urge to apologize.

✧ It’s beyond an inside joke too.

✧ Anyone brings it up jokingly, and his head sags and a shadow runs across his face.

✧ “Sorry about that (Y/N).”

✧ “Jake, it healed months ago.”

𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐨

𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ✧ Fights like these were becoming more often.

✧ Vasco was adjusting to the oncoming rush of bad guys. He was confident in his abilities. Sure of himself; he was bound to crush them all.

✧ But…

✧ “(Y/N)? Are you alright?”

✧ His dark eyes scan the battlefield of boys swinging at each other, searching for one man in particular.

✧ He catches him in his sight. (Y/N).

✧ “Are you almost done—” “Euntae, focus.”

✧ The tone of his voice sends a chill down Vasco’s spine.

✧ The cogs in his brain stop working for a second as he continues fighting on autopilot. He wants to keep an eye on (Y/N). He doesn’t want to loose sight of him.

✧ Vasco feels a harsh smack to his ribs, knocking the wind out of him. What was that? His instincts heighten as his body reacts frantically.

✧ He turns to the guy fighting him, readying one of numerous forbidden moves just for him.

✧ Once he sends the guy flying it’s back to looking for (Y/N)-

✧ “Euntae-!”

✧ Smack.

𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕

✧ “(Y/N)?! (Y/N) are you okay!? Please wake up!”

✧ Vasco was reduced to a sobbing mess.

✧ You open your eyes, staring at his red face damp with tears. It’s an odd sight- especially since you only fell down a couple of seconds ago.

✧ “Yeah Vasco… I’m fine,” you offer a small smile. Even if it does hurt, you know making a big deal out of nothing would be problematic.

✧ You act calm. Chill. Even a little nonchalant.

✧ Vasco remains crouched on the ground while you dust off your pants, glancing around the parking lot littered with bloodied “bad guys.”

✧ “You’re positive that you’re alright?” He asks slowly, staring at you with concern.

✧ “Yeah. It’ll probably form a bruise at the most,” you reply. You touch your chest, seemingly unfazed.

✧ You feel awful for lying to him. Your chest feels like it’s on fire. It’s sore and laborious to breathe… but you won’t tell him that.

✧ “Sorry.” Vasco says simply.

✧ No one brings it up until you’re undressing at the Burn Knuckles base.

✧ Everyone is slipping out of their jumpsuits and into more comfortable, casual clothes. It smells sweaty and feels humid… but somehow Leon always manages to steal the bathroom before anyone else. (Thankfully)

✧ You listen quietly, offering smiles as Vasco retells a story about him and Jace, obviously awaiting your reaction.

✧ He doesn’t intentionally flaunt his muscles in front of you… but sometimes it seems that way. That’s partially why you like to keep most of your clothes on around him- so he doesn’t start comparing. 😳

✧ “That’s funny~” you reply to one of his stares that begged for your approval. You lift your shirt off over your shoulders, slinging it around your neck as you grab a fresh one.

✧ The room: … You: … You: 🫥

✧ “…What?”

✧ Vasco’s eyes start to gloss over as he frantically grabs your shoulders, examining your bare chest.

✧ “(Y/N)… who hit you?” “I’m sure lots of people did…”

✧ Vasco shakes his head, rubbing his hand across the massive dark splotch that stains your skin. The discolored purple and red resembles a fist… but it doesn’t seem to click to him.

✧ If he means right there… then…. “Probably you.”

✧ You smirk, shaking your head as Vasco stares at you in horror. The bruise doesn’t really bother you- you’re covered in them after today anyway.

✧ Of course you handle his outbursts calmly… reassuring him that you’re not angry.

✧ But he continues, eyes scanning over you for any more bruises that he might’ve given you. “I’m sorry (Y/N)… I didn’t mean for that to happen…”

✧ Vasco: 🥺😰

✧ He apologizes a million times, often quietly and at random. ✧ No- he will not forgive himself.

✧ Yes… he forgets about it for a few weeks before remembering and apologizing all over again.

✧ Jace and the rest of the Burn Knuckles make sure to not ever bring it up again. You also are forced to wear some form of padding under your shirt whenever you get into a fight.

𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐤

✧ Zack isn’t gonna deny it. That guy is getting on his nerves.

✧ This was supposed to be a hang out with him and (Y/N). They were gonna chill and head to the movies. Maybe do some karaoke later.

✧ Just the two of them. Not even Mira was tagging along today.

✧ But then this guy showed up.

✧ Zack feels himself growing more agitated by the minute. He grits his teeth and looks in the opposite direction, willing himself to calm down.

✧ (Y/N) and him are on a park bench… and this idiot decides to stand behind them and catcall.

✧ “You work out bro~?”

✧ Zack is literally seething. (Y/N) has to put his hand on Zack’s leg to keep him from springing up.

✧ “Do you mind reading between the lines?” (Y/N) asks, flashing his three middle fingers before turning to Zack.

✧ “Wanna go to the theatre early? We could walk around-” he whispers, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

✧ Zack is still irked. His brows are knitted together tightly, but he simply shrugs and nods: “Whatever. Let’s just get away from this dunce.”

✧ The dunce, however, seems to really like being annoying. “Can I tag along with you two-?”

✧ “F*ck off,” Zack glares. He starts walking ahead, curling his hands into fists but keeping them shoved firmly in the corners of his pockets.

✧ He keeps his gaze trailed on the ground, trying to cool off. He’d hate to ruin this hang out with (Y/N) even more. So he’ll play it cool and be the bigger man- like Mira tells him to be. It’s hotter that way. ((Y/N) will think so too, right?)

✧ The smirk that spread across his lips disappears in a matter of moments.

✧ “Nice ass-!” The creep calls.

✧ And that’s it. The final straw.

✧ Zack is going for a straight jab. He’d be caught dead before he let someone get away catcalling (Y/N) of all people-

✧ He turns and slams his fist, making direct contact. He can hear the definitive clack of teeth, he watches as he stumbles backwards.

✧ But Zack realizes what he’s done…

✧ “S-Sh*t (Y/N)! What were you doing there-?” (Y/N) nurses his jaw tenderly, glaring. He sighs and turns to the guy, telling him to ‘beat it.’

✧ Zack moves to cup (Y/N)’s cheek, looking frantic. He mumbles ‘idiot’ over and over… but more to himself than anyone.

✧ He knows he’s screwed up big time. He’s insistent on helping (Y/N) walk… even though he isn’t dizzy and he claims his cheek isn’t sore.

✧ He tries to forget about it as they watch the movie… but he can’t. As soon as the lights in the cinema flicker on he scans (Y/N) for any bruising.

✧ “I can’t believe it’s so big…” “I already told you it’s fine.” “But- argh I should beat that guy to a pulp- you sure you’re okay?” “Yeah I’m sure, Zack.”

✧ He’s apologetic- but still an angry boy at heart.

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐞

✧ In his defense- Jace is usually pretty good about “self control” and everything.

✧ He’s also pretty good about it reading the atmosphere. He can tell when the mood has turned sour or hostile.

✧ He’s able to “let it go” when there’s a petty misunderstanding. Most of the time.

✧ But today this one guy (Duri…?) is killing him.

✧ He’s been a nuisance for a few weeks now… but The Burn Knuckles never had the heart to tell him off. Even (Y/N) was pretty chill about the guy- and he was usually more fiery than Jace.

✧ But as of right now, Jace stands idly with Woong and (Y/N), listening to whatever BS that guy, Duri Lee, is spewing out.

✧ Woong and (Y/N) are listening boredly as the one-sided conversation turns from childish comparisons to full-fledged insults.

✧ Duri wraps his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder, despite (Y/N) having shrugged him off twice already.

✧ Jace feels awful. He reminds himself of how jealous Johan was back during the One Night scandal. It’s embarrassing knowing that he’s feeling jealousy about… this.

✧ He’s not a jealous person… but Duri really gets on his nerves. If he keeps up his stupid act, his stupidity might spread to Jace… and then he’ll do something stupid.

✧ Even as Duri begins to degrade Jace himself, rambling a bunch of nonsense about how he “isn’t as smart as he looks”, Jace manages to keep it together. He feels a twinge of annoyance and glares, but he doesn’t say anything.

✧ The rest of the Burn Knuckles aren’t buying the bs anyway. So it’s fine.

✧ “Know you place, Duri.”

✧ Jace’s gaze snaps over to (Y/N). Did he hear him correctly? Did (Y/N) finally say something? He feels a small smile winding onto his face-

✧ “I know exactly where my place is!” Duri sputters indignantly. His look of shock is short lived and is soon replaced by a smirk. It’s highly probable that he’ll take a pathetic jab at redemption.

✧ Jace hates the way Duri’s eyes roam over (Y/N). He braces himself for what comes next.

✧ “It should be sweating over you, if you know what I mean.”

✧ Great. Gross.

✧ Jace turns to Duri now, scowling at him, “You wanna say that again? The Burn Knuckles don’t hit on each other, so don’t even think-” “Whatever Jace. Me and him were just gonna do some catching up~”

✧ Duri makes a crude gesture with his hands. He keeps his arm wrapped around (Y/N), who rolls his eyes and glares.

✧ (Y/N) sighs, “Or so you think. You do know that me and Jace are-”

✧ One kick- one harsh smack. Jace doesn’t know what he’s doing- but whatever it is lands Duri facedown on the floor.

✧ He’s startled by his own rashness. Stupidity really is contagious. He frowns down at Duri but doesn’t move anymore. “Like I said. Burn Knuckle members like you aren’t allowed to hit on their superiors.”

✧ He turns to embrace the startled and disappointed stares from Woong and (Y/N) (respectively)

✧ But naturally, Duri needs to have the last word. Like all PTJ small fries, he wants to sign his death certificate a little early.

✧ “That stupid hierarchy is never gonna get you laid,” he grumbles.

✧ Jace turns and throws all his weight into the kick-

✧ Blocked.

✧ (Y/N)…?

✧ (Y/N) has his arms outstretched in a block, giving Jace an unreadable stare. He sighs, releasing the second-in-command’s foot.

✧ “(Y/N)-” “That’s gonna leave a bruise.”

———

✧ Jace is sitting with (Y/N) a little latter. He still feels a pang of frustration when he remembers the little situation… as well as guilt for hitting (Y/N).

✧ (Y/N) rolls up his sleeves, looking over his arms quietly. Based on his eerie calmness, Jace can assume that there’s a pretty large bruise forming.

✧ Despite the knowing of guilt, Jace is a tad bit grateful for the intervention. He knows (Y/N) only stopped him for the sake of his dignity.

✧ “You’re not normally so passive-aggressive,” (Y/N) comments nonchalantly.

✧ “I know… I’m sorry.” Jace rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, feeling a touch of color flare in his cheeks.

✧ He promises to help ice it, and assures (Y/N) that he won’t do anything like that again. He just smiles dryly and waves it off.

✧ “You probably won’t have the need to,” he says.

✧ Jace looks up at him, his fingers still gingerly rubbing around the bruise. “Won’t have to… attack Duri?”

✧ (Y/N) nods, “He p*ssed himself, apparently.”

✧ Jace knows it’s wrong… honest to god he feels bad… but he couldn’t help but smirk at the thought.

(I swear I’m sorry this entire thing is a mess. I can’t decide which POV to stick to-)

𝐕𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐧

✧ In his defense, Vin had recently gotten his glasses re-tinted… and so he was having some trouble adjusting.

✧ But it would’ve been nice if he didn’t walk by you in some grubby alleyway. What a nuisance. He just wanted to go home, listen to some rap, and eat his onion rings.

✧ But you… of course… found yourself in a predicament. 😔

✧ “You’re just gonna stand there?” You call, back pressed against the wall as you stare lazily past the punks you apparently offended.

✧ They seem ticked that your attention is suddenly elsewhere.

✧ Vin just stares at you, silent for a moment, before shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s not my problem.”

✧ “They called me a d*ck-” you call. Although the familiarity of the term has nulled any offended emotions, you’re certain Vin has reserved insulting-you-rights for himself.

✧ “Not my problem,” Vin insists, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

✧ The punks continue to close in on you, throwing insults at the two of you- despite Vin being across the alley. You both ignore them.

✧ “Ah- they also called Mary fat.”

✧ “Still not my problem.”

✧ “They said Duke’s music is better than yours-”

✧ “Did not!”

✧ “And they called your sunglasses ‘gaudy’.”

✧ Which is followed by silence as one of the punks lowers a cigarette bud towards your cheek. You don’t flinch, staring past his shoulder at Vin.

✧ You wait in anticipation for Vin to say something. Anything. You’re so intent on seeing his reaction you hardly notice the burning sensation of the cigarette nearing your skin.

✧ “No they didn’t…” Vin mumbles. He adjusts his stance- and now you’re sure he isn’t going to abandon you.

✧ “Would you freaks shut up?!” The punk rolls his eyes in exasperation, pulling the bud away from your face and turning to Vin.

✧ “Or do you have somethin’ you wanna say too?” The delinquent flicks the cigarette to the side, staring your knight-in-shining-armor up and down reproachfully.

✧ You inwardly moan. Vin has lots of things he wants to say. It’s best not to get him started.

✧ “You talk too much,” Vin answers, and begins strutting forward.

✧ You crack your knuckles, relieved you won’t have to take them all on your own.

✧ “Anyway this is a waste of my time- so let’s just go (Y/N).” He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, not at all prepared for the slap.

✧ Yes. A petty, weak, girlish, slap.

✧ A slap that knocks his sunglasses askew. You freeze.

✧ “Hey,” you call loudly, watching as their heads swivel towards you. “Don’t look at him. Say anything and I-”

✧ The loud noise of bones cracking interrupts you-

✧ Vin goes rampant, giggling and grinning like a school girl. Oh hell. You shrug and get into your own fighting stance. “Well I guess he’ll kick your asses anyways- so nevermind…” you mutter.

✧ Those stupid glasses. Distorting his vision all the time. Even…

✧ In fights.

✧ You feel numbness tingling through your arms as you avoid another swing of your opponents arm. Reaching up with a strike of your own, you manage to punch him in the ribs for a KO.

✧ You’re so focused. Vin is so distracted.

✧ You scan the two other guys already beaten to the ground, and look up to see Vin walking towards you victoriously—

✧ But instead he’s charging you with arms at the ready— “WAIT VIN-!”

✧ He stops mid-swing… but only after he’s felt his skin contact with yours.

✧ The force sends you backwards into the wall. Nausea and dizziness begin bubbling in your body.

✧ You feel your knees buckle and your eyes crossing, and the pounding of your heart is auditable in your ears as you nurse your numb jaw.

✧ Meanwhile Vin just stands there in shock, calling you names while asking insincerely if you’re okay.

✧ “You can’t blame me cuz you were in the way you little sh*t! Ugh… f*ck…” he mutters.

✧ You’re calm while he rambled, but your patience begins to thin as he continues insisting the blame was all on you.

✧ “Vin…” you say calmly. “Would you shut the hell up. If it weren’t for your stupid glasses…”

✧ -He gawks in surprise

✧ “Then I wouldn’t have a concussion. Or a nose bleed,” you snap.

✧ There’s silence. Your face is illuminated by the blue light of your phone as you search for the Urgent Care nearby.

✧ “…That does look pretty bad.” Finally. He has the decency to be a little sincere.

✧ Vin leans in closely, trying to catch your eye. While you avoid eye contact, you are perfectly in tune with his movements.

✧ “I’m taking you to my place,” Vin huffs with a smirk, seemingly trying to redeem himself as he shoves his hands into his pants.

✧ “I thought you didn’t care earlier,” you answer, still scrolling on your phone. Only half-listening.

✧ Then his bulky arm wraps around your torso, and he scoops you over his shoulder.

✧ ‼️

✧ Not good for the nausea or dizziness.

✧ But anyway…he did carry you to the Urgent Care…

✧ Where he blatantly denies bruising you up, and even laughs a little. (Okay- he does feel a little guilty…)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧

✧ “(Y/N)-” “I’m not closing my eyes.”

✧ There’s no way you’re letting Warren take them all by himself.

✧ It’s just not happening.

✧ He seems to know. He’s fine with you fighting, as long as he isn’t there to worry over you. He can’t get over the urge to intervene and protect you until the fight is over. That’s always been the case.

✧ “You let Eli fight,” you remind him, turning to face away from him and towards the crowd of delinquents. “You’re not (Eli. That’s) different.”

✧ You’re not different than Eli? Well then, you’ll take that as a yes… even if you do inwardly know what he was trying to say.

✧ Your shoes slap against the floor as you walk through puddles of water. The day is overcast, just like Warren’s mood.

✧ Soon enough the blood mixes with the water.

✧ The man spits out a tooth as you throw an elbow into his jaw. Your clenched fists shake like leaves as you deliver a kick into his back.

✧ It’s loud- but you can’t even hear the shouts of grunts of the fight…

✧ Just the ringing in your ears. The adrenaline pump doesn’t help… it just gives you endurance and an animalistic will to withstand the blows. It doesn’t help you make decisions, or strike properly.

✧ “Warren-!” You feel your heart beating in your ears.

✧ Warren is smart in his own way. But once his mind is shrouded with concern, he’ll do anything to plow a path straight to you.

✧ Oh? You were just trying to draw his attention to the guy making a lame attempt at a “sneak attack?”

✧ Nevermind then…

✧ But as it starts winding down and all that’s left are the decently-difficult fighters… Warren feels his heart lurching out of his chest.

✧ “Gotta help (Y/N)…” he thinks to himself. And the thought replays. Over and over. “The mighty Warren Chae won’t let him get hurt...”

✧ (Y/N)…. (Y/N)….

✧ You….

✧ “You-!?” Slam

✧ Warren didn’t mean to loose focus and body slam you into the wall— but he did—

✧ “You’re…(good?I didn’t see you) in the way! (Sorry!)” His words slur thickly and he skips a few while he’s at it.

✧ Your vision feels fuzzy. Your body feels hot as he presses his rough hands against your neck. But as your heartbeat slows back to normal, and the adrenaline boost wears off, you come to face reality.

✧ The fight isn’t over.

✧ “I’m fine Warren,” you assure him calmly. “But don’t get distracted-”

✧ “Then listen to me,” he says firmly. Ignoring the oncoming kick directed at him, he leans (down/up) towards you. “Close your eyes.”

✧ He forces your body into a sitting position on the ground. Your hands shake slightly as you hold your sore shoulder. Your eyes are squeezed shut.

✧ You keep quiet and try to block out the disturbing noises. Shouts of agony, the snapping of bones. It doesn’t bother you as much when you’re fighting together… but knowing Warren is going rampant makes you uneasy.

✧ “Okay… open your (eyes).”

✧ Warren is already kneeling beside you, brushing his calloused hands around your torso to (take off your jacket and) lift off your shirt.

✧ You feel the cold slap of breeze against your skin 💨 👋

✧ Warren’s droopy eyes look a mixture of sad-dog and irritated-cat. How could he mistake you for the enemy?

✧ Guilty… frustrated… concerned.

✧ He rubs his rough palm against your shoulder. His thumb pad traces circles around the large bruise that’s forming.

✧ The longer you sit there, the darker the bruise seems. And it’s making Warren a little paranoid.

✧ “It’s getting worse-” he mumbles.

✧ “I’ll be fine.”

✧ “I’ll treat it back home.”

✧ “Alright… take me to bed I guess.”

✧ “…”

✧ A pause.

✧ “Bed rest. I meant. Not really like that.”

✧ “…I was gonna say. I’m not sure if you’re up for that.”

✧ Yeah. It’s time to shut up.

✧ Is Warren sad? Yes. Guilty? Yup. Frustrated? Very. It’s never happening again. You’ll probably never be allowed throw a punch in his presence ever again.

𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢

✧ Magami curls his toes into the sticky martial arts mats that line the floor. Even though it’s night outside, the training room is still illuminated by tube lights overhead.

✧ Practicing his karate, even when the room is empty and less stuffy, still feels constructing in the mask. It’s still not as bad as it is in the arena.

✧ He practices the fluid motion of his kick again.

✧ Then the movement of his strike.

✧ He hears the door creak open. Kenta swears that if Nomen tries to interrupt him with some annoying sh-

✧ A best of silence passes as he distances himself from the sandbag. Maybe it wasn’t Nomen after all.

✧ But then there’s a voice that sounds out-

✧ Magami feels the blood rushing to his face- and without thinking he swings his leg for an ushiro geri-

✧ Slam.

✧ He feels his foot connect with wood, snapping through the barriers and splitting the cypress in half. His pulse remains sickeningly fast as he straightens and turns to face the back.

✧ He was right. It wasn’t Nomen…

✧ Instead, Tanuki - you - stands rigidly behind him, cupping your face and the shattered splinters of wood.

✧ He broke your mask.

✧ “It’s just me, Daruma…” you say quietly, still standing stiff and in shock. You stare at him with half of your face naked and exposed while dragging your finger across your damp cheek. Blood. You’re bleeding…

✧ “Don’t get in my way again.” That’s his reply.

✧ His voice is deep and muffled. A better mask for his emotions that’s the actual mask that he wears. You can tell, out of perceptiveness, that he’s a bit flustered.

✧ His brows are drawn together tightly and his lips purse from behind his disguise. He feels his heart hammering in his chest. Why Tanuki…? Of all people.

✧ You tuck your free hand into your pocket, removing the remains of your mask with the other with calm precision, nodding understandingly.

✧ “I was coming to tell you how late it was,” you drawl.

✧ This is why Kenta thinks you can be an annoying prick. You stand there in such a relaxed pose, voice drawing reactions out of Kenta he has no control over.

✧ His eyes are wandering. Tanuki (you) was always more appealing to Kenta than the others, to an extent.

✧ “How late is it?” He asks.

✧Tanuki wasn’t as annoying as Nomen, and he carried a conversation better than Hyottoko. Hanyya was always accompanied by Nomen, so that was a no-go. And Tanuki was much less obnoxious than Shiba Inu.

✧ “The circus is starting in an hour. It’s that late.”

✧ His eyes wandered up from your dress shoes, your suit pants… and flickered over that iconic, unmistakable bulge that earned you the Tanuki alias; across his chest and up to your cheek.

✧ Kenta’s attention was fixated on your cheek. With the mask no longer covering your face, he could see your features for the - third time?

✧ And your cheek, he notices, is bleeding.

✧ “You’re gonna form a bad bruise if you don’t ice that,” he remarks all of a sudden.

✧ He moves to unbutton his suit and change into the convict clothes. Keeping his focus away from you.

✧ “Oh…” you murmur from behind him. Even without looking, Kenta knows you’ve begun touching your cheek gingerly again. “Well it doesn’t matter. It’s always covered up anyway.”

✧ Kenta doesn’t feel as guilty about it as he does embarrassed. And it’s not really- embarrassment… just- he just feels flustered. Actually, at this point he isn’t sure how he feels.

✧ “Ice it.” This time it’s not a warning, but a command.

✧ “I will… I will. Afterwards. You need help-?”

✧ At this point, Magami is convinced Tanuki could pull off any pose and turn him on. He feels riled up and agitated as you lean to help unfasten a particularly stubborn button.

✧ “…Don’t be a d*ck, Tanuki.”

✧ “‘No thanks’ would’ve sufficed.”

✧ You proceed to unfasten his shirt anyway. Kenta’s face remains impassive, but he won’t deny his gratitude for the mask policy right now 🫣.

✧ He stares at the bloody, darkening splotch on your cheek. Unmistakably the result of his kick. He also notes that you look good without the mask.

✧ Once he slides out of his shirt and into the bright orange one, he brings up his finger to tap harshly against your face.

✧ “Well, ice it soon.”

✧ He starts unfastening his pants. As he bends down, he can’t help but sneak glances at your limp bulge tucked away in your own slacks. He really disgusts himself sometimes. But you’re so damnably attractive, it’s almost annoying.

✧ Rephrase: it is annoying.

✧ You adjust your stance, shifting your weight from leg to leg and crossing your arms. Damn you. Kenta almost chokes.

✧ “Will do,” you chuckle.

✧ “Don’t make me kick you again.”

✧ “Daruma…”

Cough- cough… ☞︎ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

𝐆𝐨𝐨

✧ “Don’t wander off too far boo~”

✧ “Goo…”

✧ You feel a little exasperated. As Goo Kim’s secret friend, you’d think he’d treat you more like an equal. Or at least have confidence in your capabilities.

✧ And how did you end up being singled out as his ‘dearly beloved’ anyway?

✧ As you land another hit on some poor punk’s ribs, you feel your promise ring scrape his skin and draw blood.

✧ So… seeing as you’re wearing that ridiculous price of jewelry… you sort of already know how that story ended.

✧ But it doesn’t matter. You’re tying to stay level-headed as you fight, and your ‘future spouse’ being obnoxious isn’t soothing your nerves.

✧ In fact, you can’t recall a single time fighting with Goo was therapeutic. So I guess this isn’t anything different from the norm.

✧ “What’s for dinner?” You ask boredly. You sink into your toes and dodge a wild swing, kicking the kid in the gut.

✧ “Whatever you feel like babe!” Goo replies energetically as he finishes bashing in some heads.

✧ “I could go for some bird meat,” you muse quietly as a new onrush of guys heads your way. It’s a wonder than Goo hears you.

✧ “Ooh- okay! How about chicken?”

✧ “Pass. Turkey?”

✧ Goo swings a crowbar around expertly, a more focused expression on his features. He takes a moment to reply. “Nah… I hate the flavor.”

✧ “Okay, how about-”

✧ “Duck!”

✧ Whack.

✧ “…Or just… embrace it I guess. You look hot either way, babe.”

✧ “Kim… remember our conversation about clear communication?”

✧ “Uh huh? But I did warn ya!” “We were literally talking about birds.”

✧ You snap a guys wrist without even looking, glaring (up/down) at Goo.

✧ The rest of the fight you ignore him. Your expression remains neutral afterwards as he takes you to the urgent care.

✧ “At least it hit you in the shoulder!”

✧ “Yeah- I wonder where it would’ve hit me if I had ducked.”

✧ “Stop being all calm and angry at me boo! It’s creepy!”

✧ “…Alright. Whatever Goo.”

[magicpotatoobsession]

GIVEN | Hiiragi Mix Thoughts Part 1

So I haven't been super active on this blog not because I don't love Given anymore, but any ounce of brain energy dedicated to Given means I have to feel the agony of waiting for the two movies to release. BUT ALAS the time has come because @aarinfantasy is the GOAT thank you thank you thank you~~~ Spoilers and screenshots below the cut 👇👇👇

GENERAL NOTES:

How can Mafuyu be animated even cuter than before? Like I don't even know how but how can he look even more adorable???!!

I love the intentional placement of sound and music in Hiiragi mix, moments of silence are so effective in highlighting tension, awkwardness, release, nervousness. Like even 1 minute into the movie, you hear the boys breathing as Uenoyama is tuning the guitar and Mafuyu is sitting beside him. It's those little details that show the atmosphere between characters perfectly.

I like the balance of Hiiragi/Shizu's storyline and Mafuyama's storyline, it's following the manga closely and shows the complexity and intertwining of their stories. It's a good way to juxtapose the different struggles between the two couples and what they needed from each other to overcome their miscommunication! I think the team took feedback from the Given Movie 1 2020 and OVA broken up into two parts when it should have worked better as one longer movie.

I saw on reddit I think that Hiiragi's VA is still relatively new to the industry but I saw a HUGE improvement in his voice acting in this movie, the range he gave to Hiiragi is amazing!

SCENE REACTIONS

This scene was so funny I CACKLED Uenoyama and Hiiragi with their catty energy I LOVE THEM

2. I fell off my couch at this scene HHAHAHA

While Uenoyama's face is funnier in the manga, something about the animated rocket launch from earth JUST GETS ME HAHHAHA. Ok serious talk though how did I not notice that when Uenoyama got confessed to and when Haruki told him he's about to debut, his brain turns into astronaut footage? I think it's a very smart way to illustrate that for Ue, music = love and one cannot exist without the other.

3. OMG Uenoyama's face HAHAH awww man I know he's bummed as hell at Mafuyu's "I'll think about it later" (to the debut proposal) but his face, Ueki and Itaya's faces send me straight to heaven

You know how Ue feels? Our munchkin cat feels like he just proposed to his lover and his lover said, hmnnn I'll think about it. 😭 Chemical, emotional, physical, psychological damage right here>>>

4. The voice acting here from Hiiragi's VA Fumiya Imai SLAPS SO HARD

It's definitely giving deja vu, similar energy to Uenoyama panicking about Mafuyu, gosh I love Hiiragi and Uenoyama's baby gay panics it's so cute.

5. Kageyama is that you?!

6. The sound design and use of silence in this entire scene....incredible, showstopping, amazing, impactful yes yes yes

7. This scene animating Shizu's flashback to childhood was really well done.

It's interesting that in the movie they didn't speak too much about Shizu being transferred from foster home to foster home, or what he had to do to get by. But also, in the manga, I'm pretty sure that they didn't have this scene of a child Shizu closing his hands over "precious stone" but I think it absolutely elevated my connection to Shizu as a character. It really shows that he believes he has been selfishly holding Hiiragi back and that he has been trapping Hiiragi all this time. It gives so much more context to what he did next which if it wasn't clear already, he tried to push Hiiragi away in order to free Hiiragi from him. 8. HOLY SHIT wow goddamn I would not want to live where Akihiko is living oh my 💀💀💀

Watching this scene animated with the noise of the highway really highlights how bad Akihiko's living conditions are. I flagged this because in the Given Manga sequel 10th mix [SPOILER AHEAD], there is this whole thing of Akiharu's disparity with their living conditions so....this is interesting....just putting it out there.....

I also don't remember this scene in the manga, but I really appreciate it, it shows the contrast of Akiharu in the first Given movie vs. this one and how their love and care for each other has evolved! Very cute! I'll make a part 2 soon!

____

My Given Metas

[lodeddiperactivate]

High Society | Prowler!Miles Morales x Reader

Writer's notes: First time writing about Miles Morales. The moment I saw Earth 42, I def got Gotham vibes and I always have this story in mind, I just didn't know which character to use. After watching ATSV, I think Prowler Miles is perfect! Thinking of writing a part 2 maybe? Idk. Also, I feel the need to mention that Miles in this story is aged up (post-college graduate) and looking for his first real job in Earth 42 New York City.

Summary: Rich UES girl meets Miles who was working for a catering company hired by her family for her birthday party.

You faked niceties throughout the entire evening. You wore a simple and elegant little black dress for tonight's dinner held at one of your family's many townhouses in the Upper East Side. New York City has gone to ruin and crime rates are up especially in the other boroughs, and here they are, the richest and most powerful people in the city having dinner and talking about which wine would go best with whatever type of dish.

Your older brother, one who is set to succeed the family business, is arguing with one of the waiters your family has hired to serve the guests for tonight's event. You rolled your eyes as he has always been so dramatic. You walked towards where he was and scoffed at the idea at how his sudden outburst is probably because of how the butter is too cold.

"The butter is too cold! Can't you tell? Do I have to do everything in this house?" Your brother exclaimed.

"Not everything, just do your part and be the most annoying person under this roof and you'll be fine," you said casually which irritated him even further. You and your brother then had one of those telepathic conversations, one that would end in you giving him a look that says "Walk away or Dad will know about this." He scoffed, put his champagne glass on the tray held by the waiter and sauntered over to the living room to talk to some of the major shareholders at your Dad's company.

"I'm so sorry about him. He was born with a few braincells short," you told the waiter. He had a deadpanned expression and he wore these braids that fall up to just above his shoulder. He wore a black tie suit which was mandatory for the catering service he worked for, which you took a mental note of how it perfectly complemented his broad shoulder and lean body. You can almost tell how his arms are toned through the fabric. He was quite tall too so talking to him means you looking up.

"Don't worry about it," he said. You were disappointed he ended the conversation so quickly but then again, they were most likely not supposed to enagage in too much conversation with the guests. However, you were dying to talk to someone else about anything other than stock prices so you decided to ask the first thing that came to mind.

"I like your braids. Do you wash it?" The moment those words left your mouth, you quickly apologized because you thought it was an ignorant question. Of course he washes it duh. His response was a smirk with some underlying subtext you couldn't quite read.

"Yes, I do wash it," he said and gave a laugh that made you blush.

"There she is! Happy birthday, Y/N!" A distant cousin of yours appeared greeting you whilst giving you a big bear hug. You smiled shyly and thanked them. After a few small talk, they proceeded to look for your father to talk business. You glanced timidly back at the waiter and he was smirking at you.

"What?"

"Nothing. Here I thought you were different but it turns out this extravagant evening dinner is for you." He paused. You were hurt (a bit). You were complaining about this city's problem and it turned out you were a part of it.

"But hey, happy birthday. I'm sure that despite the millions of dollars spent for tonight, you're not gonna end up like your brother." He smiled at you and you smiled back.

"What's your name?" You asked.

"I'm Miles Morales."

[irradiatedsnakes]

hi so i’ve been following you for a little (mostly because of dinosaurs and mechanisms) but i’ve been curious about this and don’t really know where else to ask, how do you find dinosaur references? i’ve been wanting to start drawing some dinos again but really have no idea where to go for references or inspiration.

my go-to's are skeletal references and 3d models!

for skeletals, the gold standard is scott hartman's. he's done sooo many and they're all very good- you can find them on his website here. https://www.skeletaldrawing.com/

i do think his life reconstructions tend to be on the shrinkwrapped side, but his skeletals are great.

for skeletals, gregory s. paul is another great resource. if you can find a physical or digital copy of the princeton field guide to dinosaurs, it has skeletal references for a LOOOOT of dinos.

greg paul's life reconstructions should also be taken with a grain of salt- shrinkwrapping and pronated hands abound. his taxonomy is also notably controversial (he's the lead author on that tyrannosaurus regina/rex/imperator paper from a while back..), so double-check the genus/species names you're referencing.

(he also has the princeton field guides to marine reptiles and pterosaurs, but i haven't read those so i can't comment. haven't heard great things about the pterosaurs one, though- if you want pterosaur references, go for pteros.com, pterosaur.net, and mark witton's "pterosaurs" book)

now for 3d models- skeletals are all well and good, but if you're not drawing a dinosaur from the side their usefulness can be limited. sketchfab is my go-to to find 3d reference. i look for skeletons/skulls from museums that have been digitized, mostly-

but i'll also look for full reconstructions, just reference them in the same way you'd reference any other art piece (with care).

i also sometimes use the video games saurian and prehistoric kingdom? they both allow you to spin around the models of their animals, and their reconstructions are both super good.

lastly is to reference the work of other palaeoartists! this especially fits in for the inspiration part.

here's a few awesome palaeoartists around the internet (tyhank you to billymayslesbian for helping me put these together!)

mark witton

fred wierum (aka fredthedinosaurman)

john conway

alphynix (here on tumblr under the same name)

julio lacerda (this hatzegopteryx image is one of my favorite palaeoarts ever tbh)

joschua knüppe (here on tumblr at knuppitalism-with-ue, i'm especially a fan of his work recreating classical paintings with extinct primates)

and for more cartoony/styilized work:

miquel camiodraws

johan egerkrans

abby howard (here on tumblr at abby-howard)

natalia jagielska

greer stothers (here on tumblr at pangur-and-grim)

nev (saint-nevermore here on tumblr, this picture is one of my favorite palaeoarts of all time)

for some more books, check out all yesterdays by darren naish and john conway, which takes a highly speculative look at reconstructions of prehistoric animals, mostly dinosaurs.

also look at mark witton's the palaeoartist's handbook, which is exactly what it sounds like and i think could be VERY helpful for what you're looking for.

[magixfairyix]

Zenothian (fanmade planet) Letters

~ Tried to make it interesting and not just replicas of English, but the only language I know is English so I did what I good given my basic bitch status

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

~ Zenothe (I have more lore of it on my page) is Darcy's planet in my lore and my fanfictions, and in my Winx club rewrite is is the root language of a lot of spells, especially old ones (mainly witch magic, as Zenothe is mainly witches) and is even used in fairy spells sometimes as a word or two

~ It is a powerful language for spells, as it also has roots on the Dominian (Domino) runic alphabet that is old as hell, which is more simpler and less complex, only having the basic vowel runes (AA, EE, II, OO, UU, and the non-vowel runes)

~ It is traditionally written in the runic format in spells and rituals, though is more popular written in the English/Magixian letter format (such as in my rewrite the times it it used)

~ The runes/traditional letters are pronounced like the Magixian letters below them, though there is a clear difference between how well the words flow if you were raised on learning it or not (those on Zenothe normally learn both this and the English/Magixian language)

~ Those who are from Zenothe's words clearly audibly flow better when speaking Zenothian because the vowel sounds are especially specific and sound choppy if one is not used to it

~ For example, someone who is new to Zenothian would pronounce the AO vowel sound as eh-oh with two syllables, though someone who has known Zenothian for a long time would pronounce the latter more prominently (O, oh) with slight differences depending on weather or not it's AO, IO, etc, and more so as one sound and syllable

~ New at Zenothian: Focuses on the letters as two separate sounds (AO, eh-oh)

~ Well-versed in Zenothian: Focuses on the letters merged into one sounds and syllable (AO, oh with a quick and slight ah sounds at the beginning. Sounds more like 'ow')

~ The 'root' symbol of the A-vowel sounds is a V-shape, for the E-vowel sound it is two small horizontal lines, for the I-vowel sound it is a vertical line, O-sound a circle, and U-sound an upper-facing arch

~ The 'roots' of the consonants is a vertical line and some sort of curve(s) and/or line(s) around said line

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Pronunciation:

~ The pronunciation of the consonants is the same as the English/Magixian language

~ A-vowel sounds: AA (eh), AE (eh-ee), AI (eh-eye), AO (eh-oh), AU (eh-ewe)

~ E-vowel sounds: EE (ee), EA (ee-eh), EI (ee-eye), EO (ee-oh), EU (ee-ewe)

~ I-vowel sounds: II (eye), IA (eye-eh), IE (eye-ee), IO (eye-oh), IU (eye-ewe)

~ O-vowel sounds: OO (oh), OA (oh-eh), OE (oh-ee), OI (oh-eye), OU (oh-ewe)

~ U-vowel sounds: UU (ewe), UA (ewe-eh), UE (ewe-ee), UI (ewe-eye), UO (ewe-oh)

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Example:

~ The Zenothian word for home (taking inspiration from the Latin word, 'longe,' for 'far') is louui

~ This would be pronounced, for someone new to Zenothian, low-ewe-oo-i): L, OU, UI

~ But for someone who knows the language well and is used to it, the word louui would sound more so like loh-oo-eye, the OU sound being merged into one syllable and merging with the first bit of the UI sound

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

~ When I dug up all of this from my notebook I found a little statement in brackets of me asking myself 'what am I doing?' and I think that sums this up pretty well

[koolades-world]

Hi I'm so sad right now and I want to be sadder so may I request like a hurt/comfort drabble about Mammon and Lucifer with teen or younger mc. So it goes like Mammon is super close with mc who unconsciously does things that reminds him of Lilith, then Mammon goes to Lucifer for comfort because he feels like he's using mc to feel like Lilith is still there. Something like that💧UEH😭UEG☹️🥺UEHY🥺UEH😭UEHS😞UEHE💦UUEHUE😢UEH💦USUEH😭UEG☹️💦UEHY🥺UEH😭UEHS😞UEHE😢UUEH💧UE😢UEHUS take your time Ily

hi haha

you know my true weakness: teen mc and dadcifer, but this time with a dash of older brother mams

tell me why i wrote placeholder as a placeholder for a title, then actually grew to really like it so i kept it...

enjoy <3

placeholder

As Mammon walked through the outlet mall, he couldn't help but be drawn to the clothes put on show. He had some time to kill before his next photoshoot, so he popped into a couple of the stores he liked the displays of. As he browsed the store, he meandered through the various sections, leafing through what they had for sale.

However, soon enough he found himself in the juniors section, and he held up an awfully familiar brown jacket to get a better look at it. It was almost identical to the one he was currently wearing. His heart melted at the though of how happy this jacket might make you. He knows you'd die to match with him and his iconic jacket. Not even glancing at the price, he took it up to the register and paid for it on the spot.

He already knew exactly how you'd react. As soon as his photoshoot was over, he took his earning and the new jacket home. You met him at the door, as you usually did, eagar to tell him about what you'd done while he was gone. He let you, and once you reached a lull in the conversation, he presented you with the gift. You were overjoyed and accepted it with glee, just as he thought you would. Part of him was always afraid you might not like it, but your reaction crushed the fear every time.

You immediately insisted the two of you needed to go out in your new matching jackets, to which he proposed the two of you go out for dinner and dessert. It was Belphie's night to cook, and neither of you really cared for his cooking. Even though it was a little early for dinner, you rushed off the get changed, leaving him standing alone in the foyer.

As soon as you were gone, an eerie stillness filled the room. All of the gusto he'd been filled with left him all alone with his thoughts. He really did care for you, and he enjoyed doing things that made you happy, but something about the entire situation felt wrong. He didn't have long to dwell on that feeling and what it might be, because you were calling for him. He followed the sound of your voice, decided to forget about that for now.

That evening, he enjoyed his dinner and dessert with you, like promised. You had a great time, and he was happy he was able to give that to you. After you went off to bed, he was filled with that deep dread again. He sat alone in his room for a while, absentmindedly wiping down the window of his car, lost in thought. Before he realized it, it was closing on on two am. He was interrupted by a gentle knock on his bedroom door. Assuming it was you, he told them to just come on in. After throwing down the window cleaner on his bed, he turned to the sound of the shutting door.

"Lucifer? What are you still doing awake?" Mammon rubbed his face.

"I could ask you the same thing." Lucifer crossed his arms, and took a seat on the edge of his bed. "Are you alright?" His words froze Mammon to the spot.

"What do you mean?" There were hundreds of responses he could've given, but he wasn't sure why that's the one he chose to give.

"You heard me." Mammon admired his brother's persistence in most situations, but it was times like this that made him wish Lucifer would be able to drop something.

"I... I don't know." He felt himself faltering under the questioning of his elder brother.

"It's about Mc, isn't it?" Lucifer had seen right through him

"Was it that obvious?" Mammon asked.

"No. I just had a feeling. I miss her too, you know." Mammon sharply inhaled and look up to meet his brother's eyes. Lucifer was staring straight at him as soon as he did.

"I feel awful. I can't place it but I think they remind me too much of her." The both of them knew who the she they were referring to. All of the little things added up, and they were all just like what Lilith used to do. Neither of them could find it in themselves to say her name though.

Lucifer was silent for a second. At first Mammon thought he was doomed, that he was beyond saving. "Well, they are still Mc to you, right?" Mammon was taken a little aback by his question.

"Well, yeah." He wasn't quite sure how to respond.

"Then there isn't a need to worry, Mammon. It becomes a problem when you can't discern one from the other. Don't start to pretend they're her. Mc is unique and even if we wish it, they'll never be her, and that's alright." Lucifer placed a comforting hand on his younger brother's shoulder.

"Yer right." Mammon let out a deep breath.

"If you continue to have this feeling, try to finds ways to separate them mentally. I speak from experience." Lucifer rubbed small circles where his hand.

"Thanks. I love yer honesty, you know that? I can always count on you." Mammon stood up, brushing himself off. His words struck him right where it hurt. "I need something to eat. You coming?" He held out his hand to his brother.

"I'll be there in a moment." Lucifer feigned a smile, which seemed to make Mammon happy.

"Don't be long. I'm not getting any less hungry." Mammon left the room, looking much better than he had previously, but Lucifer felt the same. Oddly empty, and melancholy. He'd never had the courage to tell his brothers the truth about Lilith. He sat in Mammon's room, alone, thinking for a moment.

He could revisit that later. Mammon was expecting him. Lucifer packed away his thoughts in the box in his head that they belonged in. With that, he got up and made the move to head downstairs to join Mammon in whatever shenanigan he was preparing. He could at least look forward to time with his dearest brother.

[nemo-bros]

this is my new visual schedule:

i have no idea how to image describe pictures with so many things in them, so I'm sorry I have no image description, but I will do my best to explain the purpose of each page (left to right top to bottom)

the cover (keeps pieces from falling off if I put the flipbook in my backpack or something) the cover also has my name on it but I cropped this out

'first next then after' page (the main page I use, has my soonest upcoming tasks- I take pieces from the 'to do' page and put them here)

'to do' (at the morning I fill up this page with my tasks like cleaning, chores, and studying- I do have cards for other fun activities and eating but I only ues them on the first page in between tasks from this page)

'done' (when I finish a task on the 'first next then after' page I move it here- it gives me dopamine to see everything I finished that day and makes me less stressed about the amount of things I need to do)

hygiene page- this page is actually so so good its like a cheat code- If you take nothing else from this post at least take this idea: the top (orange) section is for the morning, the bottom (blue) section is for the evening. in the morning all the cards will be in the morning section, when I finish a task I get to move it to the evening section (repeat this for all 6 tasks). in the evening I do the tasks again but the cards get moved to the morning section this time. (if there's a day where I didn't finish then I just move them anyways the next morning as a "reset") this page is in my book but it's probably more helpful just to leave it in the bathroom on the counter or mirror or something (without systems like this I cannot take care of my basic needs, even with these supports and the additional supports in my home i cannot reliably take care of my basic needs)

images 6-9 show some of the word storage pages, I have a total of 10 of these pages

if you're curious at all how i made it let me know and i will post the steps i did to make it and where I got all the pictures!! (I want everyone to be able to access systems like these if they need them, so I am very open to sharing this)

something i really really like about this flip book is that its very tactile and very visual- it does not require very much brain power to use- I really like to just move around the pieces on the pages with the velcro as a stim

i was promted to do this because recently a teacher told me I just need to manage my schedule better and that I should be trying harder (little does she know I'm trying my hardest already)

ive tried so many types of schedules and routines and I just cant stick to them (this is one reason I suspect adhd in addition to my autism but idrk and it probably doesnt matter), but then after she said that I was like okay I guess this is a good excuse to try a visual schedule so I made one (very time consuming but also fun) and then am still disapproved of for some reason... I think she thinks its "too childish/I'm not disabled enough" which I disagree because if it helps and they need it then they should use it regardless of sterotypes- i think this is true for all adaptive tech and disability aids

my point in showing this is to let other autistc adults know that you can use visual schedules if they help you and to boost someone else's confidence for them to use an aid they are afraid to because its stigmatized (also yes mine looks kind of simple/etc but I chose to do it this way because it works good for my brain like this- not because its how all visual schedules should/need to look)

[raindrop-21]

Sunrises

Word count: 875 ish

Cw: phantom angst, mainly dew x phantom

@thatfuckinjester

Even though it was required to have two quintessence ghouls at the ministry at all times, Aether and Omega were both out helping at another ministry, and no other quint ghoul could be found. The reason for that is every now and then quint ghouls fade into stardust, and the help of another quint ghoul is needed to make sure the fading quint ghoul doesn't permanently disappear. Phantom, being the new ghoul that he is, doesn't know that this happens. It doesn't help that he hasn't been told that it will happen to him.

None of the other ghouls didn't think it'd happen just a few months after the tour ended, mainly because it took two to three years for Aether and Omega to fade away for the first time. Phantom got scared when he was walking through the ministry's hallways to go to the observatory in the loft of the library and his phone fell through his hand. He was even more scared when his hand started phasing through the floor when he tried to pick it up. He used his non-fading hand to pick up his phone and ran to the library, thinking he was just hallucinating from a lack of sleep or lack of connecting with the stars. Ue quickly made his way to the observatory.

He laid on the ground of the observatory and looked at the stars, letting his thoughts connect to them. An hour and a half later he disconnected his thoughts from the stars, sat up, and when he looked at his legs, they had turned into a shiny silver-gray dust. He was terrified. He picked up his phone and went to a group chat he barely ever texted in - the pack's group chat. He texted a small, but urgent text:

> “Help. Turning to dust. In observatory.”

It's thirty minutes later when someone finally comes to him - Dewdrop. He can hear Dewdrop groan as he climbs the ladder to get to the observatory. Dew turned on the light of the observatory and looked until he spotted the little quint. Most of the ghouls thought he was joking; it wasn't soon enough for him to fade away for the first time.

At least they thought.

With a worried gasp, Dew ran over and sat next to Phantom.

“Little Star? When'd this start?” He Worriedly asked.

“I dunno. My hand was kinda see-through earlier, but I thought it was because I hadn't connected with the stars in a while.”

Shit. Why hadn't they told him about this? Even more so because connecting with the stars whilst fading speeds up the process. Dew holds Phantom's hand and texts the group chat.

> “He wasn't lying. He's fading, fast. I need Swiss and Rora here quickly, Sunny if you can find her.”

Right after he sends that text Phantom's hand fades through his and back down to the ground.

“Phantom, I need you to stay awake as long as you can, okay? You're fine. This is normal for quint ghouls when they come top-side.”

“Does that mean I'm going back to the pit? Or am I joining the stars?” The little quint asks with his round starry eyes.

“I dunno, but I don't want to find out.”

While they wait for Swiss and Rora (possibly Sunny) to come, Dew quietly sings Ride by Twenty One Pilots for Phantom, a song they both enjoyed. Dewdrop watched as Phantom's body slowly turned to stardust. All three multi ghouls arrived when only Phantom's torso and head were left. All three quickly sat around the smaller ghoul, Sunny immediately started trying to keep his soul grounded to the Earth instead of letting it flow away with the small bit of quintessence she possessed while Swiss quickly gave Aurora a run-down on how to help keep his soul on the Earth.

While the multi's did that Dew spoke to Phantom to keep him calm. Well, it more to keep himself calm, he loved the little quint even though he didn't show it much.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, it kind of feels like I'm asleep? Like I'm here but I can't feel what's happening.”

“Oh okay.” Dew sighs.

Around fifteen minutes later, when just Phantom's head is left, not knowing if they'll be able to ground his soul, Dew softly kisses Phantom, possibly for the last time. Phantom giggles when he's kissed by Dew, like the many times he did when they shared small kisses.

“I love you, Dew.”

“Love you too, Little star.”

And then he was gone. His whole body turned to dust. Sunny, Swiss, and Rora are all trying their hardest to hold onto his soul, but it doesn't work. When Rora stops grasping at the invisible strings of his soul, she grabs at the stardust he left behind and sobs, loud and heartbreakingly.

Dew not one for tears, cries. Hard. Sunny texts the group chat a small simple thing:

> “He's gone.”

In the next few minutes everyone's there, Copia included. They're all there mourning the loss of their packmate, bestfriend, lover, and for Aurora, life mate. They're there until sunrise, and from the observatory, the sunrise looks stunning.

“You know, I heard somewhere that the most beautiful sunrises are made by the souls of those who've left us.” Aurora quietly says to the group.

Who knew the last they'd see of Phantom was his stardust?