#i suppose it's worth mentioning that I also very literally work in marketing

[etchbee]

rotb

hi guys. so i saw rotb. unfortunately i fucking hated it. lemme talk about why. (spoilers, obviously. be warned this is very long.)

first of all, lemme preface this by saying two things. number one being i did not have high expectations for this movie in the first place. because lets be honest, this is the transformers fandom, and hollywood has almost never done us justice. also, the trailers and teasers weren't exactly encouraging. number two being i am a huge fucking movie nerd. okay. i love movies. so just keep that in mind.

i think it's worth pointing out that my number one critic of this movie is that for almost the entire runtime, it's something worse than bad: it's boring.

i mean, how do you make giant robots boring??? how is that even possible? let's unpack that.

first of all, it has the most generic, cookie cutter action movie plot ever. we have to get the.... thing! you know, the thing! and we have to do it before the.... other guys! who are working for the BIG guy! and if we don't... the world will end! wahhh!

how is anyone supposed to be invested in that. there are no stakes. there's no tension. there's nothing. we've literally seen this exact plot played out one million times. THERE'S NOTHING NEW!!!

furthermore, the characterization of literally everyone is dogshit. the villians are bland, and have absolutely no motivation behind "darkness and evil." that's NOT INTERESTING!! there's no backstory! i literally could not even tell you the NAMES of the three main antagonists that are on the screen for half the movies runtime. that's how unimportant they are.

and god, the autobots are even worse. first of all, optimus prime and mirage are the only actual characters. i can't remember a single line any other robot says. not one.

but optimus is so under-hyped. they claim he's some big warrior (optimus primal even goes "i'm named after you") but we don't get ANY backstory. we don't know anything about cybertron, or the war, or even what the hell they're doing on earth. we know they "crash landed 7 years ago, and haven't been able to get off since". and they "have to get back, or cybertron will be destroyed!" do they ever tell us WHY cybertron might be destroyed? NOPE!

now we, as an informed audience, can reasonably assume it's because of the war.

but.... what??? friends, the decepticons are never even MENTIONED.

lemme repeat that. the decepticons are never. even mentioned. SO WHY WOULD ANY AUDIENCE BE INVESTED IN THEM RETURNING TO CYBERTRON? THERE'S NO STAKES!!!

back to the autobots though. also mirage is just annoying. he's literally just a"POP CULTURE REFRENCE" machine. that's it. that's all he does.

i... i can't even address what happens between him and the human guy (literally can't even be bother to remember his name) in the finale. i can't. i need to leave that alone or we'll be here all day.

god, i have so many things to say about this movie i need to speedrun a couple okay let's go

humans. boring. why are these movies about giant robots so determined to shove human characters in our faces they DON'T COMPARE EVER!!! the two humans are? fine? but the dude is literally just hero fantasy and the girl is. unimportant. nothing in this movie is important. you could cut any of them.

the action. mediocre. impossible to enjoy when "GENERIC ACTION ONE LINER!" is being crammed down your throat literally every five seconds.

why did the movie market so heavily with arcee wheeljack and bumblebee. they literally have like 15 total lines of dialogue. i can't express to you how much they don't matter.

and you know what. all of that could have even been forgivable. if they had just bothered to put some classic characters in there, with classic character designs, and make a product that actual fans could at least appreciate in aesthetic/homage, if not writing!

but they didn't. they used random ass characters who NOBODY cares about and gave them all SHIT designs too!

and it's so tragic when you consider all the amazing source material that they have to offer. i mean, i have been begging for YEARs for a movie set on prewar cybertron following megatron. the political conflicts and class wars! the origin of megatron is literally the MOST INTERESTING PART OF HIS CHARACTER! BUT IT HAS NEVER A SINGLE TIME BEEN ADDRESSED! HE GETS REDUCED DOWN TO BIG MUSCLE SCARY GUY WHICH IS LITERALLY!!!!!!!!!!!! THE VERY THING HE REBELLED AGAINST!!!!!!!!!! ITS THE WHOLE FUCKING REASON FOR THE WAR AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

can you tell i have a lot of feelings about this. wow. okay this is so long. i'm sure nobody's acutally read this far. alright. what's left.

what'll i'll say is this.

there is literally no appeal to this movie. NONE. it isn't watchable as a fun, transformers piece come to life. it's not watchable as a quality action movie. hell, it isn't even worth a hate watch!!!!!

and somehow. some fucking how. it is still the second best transformers movie. OUT. OF. SEVEN.

friends. how is this possible. how could this have happened.

to all the fan creators making fan art and writing of this movie. you guys are fucking heros, alright. you are taking this incomprehensible garbage, and making actual art. you guys make this franchise worth staying in. thank you, and i wish someone put you guys in charge instead of MICHEAL. FUCKING. BAY.

in conclusion. fuck hollywood. someone give money to the people who actually care about this franchise. or i'll die.

thank you and goodnight.

[yelloskello]

Saw a post on twitter talkin abt how reviews 4 detective pikachu keep saying it sucks cause u have to have knowledge of the pokemon franchise for it (which is stupid, but thats another can of worms) and comparing it to avengers endgame's 20 movie homework assignment - which isnt hyperbole. And i was thinking of all the folks who are like 'stop crying why dont you understand how sequels work'. And it got me musing on what marvel and disney have done here to basically guarantee that they not only garner huge profits from their new movies, but that they continue to garner huge profits on basically every mcu movie theyve made since 2008.

Like. MCU movies whether i like it or not are a huge part of being... social, basically. I dont give a shit about them, but i also have almost no friends and dont give a shit about communicating with people in a general sense. But every time a new marvel movie comes out, its fuckin all people talk about. It permeates everything. Ive seen the societal pressure to continue seeing these movies even if you dont care about them, *just* so you can be part of everyday conversation for a good few months. People RUN to see the movie as soon as humanly possible because people want to avoid spoilers so desperately they completely isolate themselves from the world. And, yeah, you can apply this to literally any movie in a popular franchise or any standalone heavy hitter - what sets mcu apart is that 20 movie homework assignment.

In looking up what movies are essential to watch before endgame, the absolute shortest list i could find was 8, and that was like, bare bones. Watching those 8 movies, if youre a newbie to the franchise, you still wouldnt know who the fuck most of the heroes popping up are or why the fuck theyre there. (I have general knowledge of marvel, but i never saw ant man, so even being marginally aware of the hero when i saw civil war and he popped up, i was like 'what the fuck, whyd they kidnap celebrity paul rudd?') In order to fully understand who everybody is, i'd say you have to watch at least the first movie of every individual hero's movie line. In order to have perspective on the inner workings of characters and what has happened to them so you can see where theyre coming from, youd have to watch *all* of it. Which, i mean, if people wanna do that, u do u booboo. Some people are in love with this shit. Some people wanna be able to, like, be part of greater society and talk to their friends. I get it. Youre not gonna be able to keep up with conversation as well if you dont know who a third of the characters even are. If your friends are big fans, you better be able to talk shop, too.

What im musing on is that, like, theres no way this wasnt fully intentional. Theres no way that disney and marvel arent aware of the social influence their franchise has, and no way they werent aware of how it would be from the beginning, just by watching social trends when huge movies come out. I mean, thats what your marketing team is there for, yknow. Its literally their job. The entire mcu line was carefully crafted to make sure youre not just giving money to their new movies, but to all their old movies, since its required watching and youll experience some level of social isolation if you dont. Yeah, other franchises have done this stuff too, having multiple sequals or breaking up their sequals into several parts to make more money. But - and i might be wrong, if theres another quite this huge, im just not remembering - not to the extent the mcu has. Not *20 fucking movies*, spanning several different storylines with their own sequels that are only intermingled juuuuust enough to be important. Imagine if all the disney princess movies were intermingled. Imagine if, in order to watch moana, you had to watch everything from, oh, little mermaid on, to understand whats going on.

And then, like the big bright maraschino cherry on top, if you complain about it being inaccessible, you get social backlash. Youre socially isolated and out of the popular loop if you dont see it, but if you take issue with everything you have to do just to get there, youre chastised by your peers. The only way to win is to give marvel lots of money, and thats entirely intentional on their part.

And yes, i know, ppl can pirate movies or read summaries. I am one of the ppl who basically live by doing that, so ofc i know. But i think we can all agree that reading summaries is absolutely not the same as seeing the movie first hand, leaves out a ton of details, and gives you none of the emotional impact of the situation, so youre still socially stunted - and theres absolutely a societal trend to some people to just experience the whole thing because it just feels right. Basically as a ritual. (See: people rewatching the LOTR trilogy before going to see the hobbit movies, just to hype themselves up and turn seeing the movie into a much bigger personal event, as ONE example among mmmaaannnyyy.) And pirating? Tons of folks are vehemently morally opposed to that. (I am not, but like, doesnt mean there aint a significant number of ppl who are.)

Its clever. And also kinda horrifying, in a 'capitalism is highly manipulative and insidious' kinda way.

Im 100% sure this musing is not new or groundbreaking in any way, shape, or form, and that tons of people have been well aware of it for ages. Its just interesting to think about.

[angry-geese]

Sukuna requests. S/o makes fun of him all the time, calls him weak, etc. What nobody knows at the beginning is that s/o is significantly stronger than sukuna

The Definition of Human - Sukuna x Reader

Warnings: some swearing but its pretty tame. mention of death, and violence. Sukuna kind of needs his own warning. sfw. gn!reader.

a/n: as much as i love the idea of sukuna being soft for his human s/o i also love the thought of them being much stronger than him and him having no clue what do to with that

Word Count: 2.1k

You were just a sorcerer when he first met you, barely an adult, cast out by your village.

Someone so powerful hadn't been born for centuries. A sorcerer like you could turn the world of Jujutsu on its head. And that was the last thing they wanted to happen. The older you grew, the more unpredictable you became. You were far too strong for the village elders to handle. While you could have been a powerful ally, you would have been an even worse foe. The very people that had raised you, who taught you how to use your powers had begun to fear you.

Though you weren't trussed up like a sacrifice, you were sat by one of his altars like one.

It was only by chance you stumbled across such a thing. The surrounding woods were vast, and winding. No matter what path you took, you always seemed to wind back up by them. Perhaps it was a work of sorcery, meant to keep you lost in the woods forever. No trail seemed to lead back home. The village elders never expected you to last long on your own against the elements, let alone the King of Curses. But growing exhausted, and hungry, you had little choice but to stop and rest. The altar had offerings in the form of food, and a place to rest. Far more than Sukuna needed. You figured he wouldn't notice if you took a few things.

At the base of an altar sat a much smaller form. A human, one from the local village. Your shoulders were slumped, your arms curled around a bag. You didn't look sad, so much as you looked furious. You were talking to yourself, listing out all the ways you’d flatten each and every structure, how you’d salt the very earth they stood on, how you’d turn the once rich, fertile soil uninhabitable.

For having Sukuna’s interest in mind, he was certainly ready to burn it to the ground. Your village did little to appease the King of Curses. The humans in it were conniving, and rather quick to betray him. The relationship between the two was strained at best. In exchange for offerings in the form of crops, alcohol, and whoever decided to get on the village elders’ bad side, he wouldn't burn your home to the ground.

In a way, you were their last sacrifice to him, and by far his favorite.

As a child your parents had warned you, telling you never to go into the woods alone. A four armed man wandered out there, and he had a habit of making travelers disappear. Now that very same forest you once feared was your only sliver of comfort.

It took you a moment to realize he was standing there. And when you finally noticed him, you didn't look at him with the fear most humans did. There was a curious glint in your eyes. You sized him up, studied him in a way he wasn't used to.

In your hands you held an apple—an old offering—paring it with a knife. You were carving around the bruises. The texture of bruised apples always bothered you.

“It's dangerous to be out here alone, little one,” he said, eyeing you up like prey, “you should know that by now.”

“You’re the least of my worries, old man,” you said, popping a chunk of apple into your mouth.

You were still human. Strong, but human. You needed sleep, and food. If exposed to the elements too long you would freeze, or succumb to heatstroke or thirst.

“Old man?!” He said, clearly offended.

“What? You don't think I’ve heard the stories?” You asked. “You don’t scare me.”

And you were right. Even as he looked you in the eyes, you didn't back down once. You, unlike every other human from your village, weren't scared of him. He found you curious, and interesting. From the very moment your eyes locked with his, he was infatuated.

“I should frighten you,” he warned.

“You don't,” you said, “in fact, I think I could kick your ass!”

Expecting it to be an easy fight, he took your offer.

What resulted was a fight that would last days. Sukuna had never met anyone who could last so long against him. Let alone a human. Your strength was only rivaled by your unwavering rage. You were determined in a way he’d never seen before. Your village, along with half of the surrounding forest would be razed in the battle.

They had to have seen this coming. The child that is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel it's warmth.

And it's warmth you felt.

You couldn't imagine yourself being sad. You were too filled with anger and betrayal. There was no room left in your heart for sadness.

He remembers the look of the fires, and how they glinted in your eyes. He thinks that's when you began to turn into a curse.

After the third day, he had grown not only bored, but tired. It was clear neither of you were capable of destroying the other. He figured you were too tough to eat; you wouldn't make good meat. Uraume couldn't do a whole lot with you. And you were too combative to be a concubine. You would not go with him willingly. He's not one to give up, nor is he one to admit defeat, but he knows when he's not going to win. The two of you would mutually destroy the world before you would destroy each other. There was no end in sight. Sukuna simply wanted to leave.

So he simply headed for home.

That enraged you. After days of fighting, there was no climatic end to the battle. You wanted something more.

"Hey asshole!" You said. "You can't just walk away!"

"I know when I've met my match." He said. "Do you?"

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means this world will burn before we destroy each other."

The two of you were quite literally a match made in hell. You would be a powerful ally and an even worse foe. There was no point in fighting you.

He did nothing to stop you when you followed him.

You were more of a nuisance than anything else. He often found himself comparing you to a cockroach. No matter how many times he tried to squash, poison, or starve out you always came back. If he couldn't kill you, then he had to have you on his side. You weren't something to be deceived, betrayed, injured, or killed. You were stronger than that. You were sharp, too, with a tongue to match. Whether harsh words he threw your way, you returned in double. It was rare he found a human with quite a tongue on them. He often remarked about having it nailed to his door. You simply pointed at his servants and dared them to try it.

They never did. Anyone who dared harm you often met a gruesome fate, either at his hands, or yours.

He didn't consider himself capable of falling in love. And he isn't. To some extent. But love is what he felt. You were the closest to an equal the King of Curses had ever met. In many ways you surpassed him, but those who admitted it often met a swift death.

He moved onto the next village. So did you. Word had not yet spread of what happened. People knew of the fires, but not of the deaths, and your connection to them. You settled down, taking up work with the local shamans. Though you were a newcomer, your help was gladly accepted when Sukuna first showed up, demanding offerings.

In the beginning you tried to warn them. That didn't help. They never listened. It always ended the same way; with a razed village and a bunch of needless deaths.

Sukuna would visit. Often in the late hours of the night as you were trying to get some sleep. He did little more than steal your food, and make himself far too comfortable. Of course that's how most of your meetings went.

He's not sure when he fell for you. But it was something that happened all at once. After years of a back and forth between you two, something gave. You took a place right by his side. He found himself no longer taking concubines, no longer indulging in the sacrifices presented to him. He found himself consumed with the thought of you. He had to have you.

“I can't believe you’re all out of sake,” he said, one night while visiting.

“I wonder who’s fault that is,” you said.

He cast you a glare from across the room. You'd have to buy more in the morning anyway. But all the good stuff has been put up as an offering, and the only sake left in the market is watered down, and worth nothing to you. You don't drink the stuff all that much anyway, you just used it for cooking.

“I question why I keep you alive,” he said.

“I think if you could even kill me,” you said, “you would have by now. Someone as weak as you doesn't stand a chance.”

He didn't like this, and hauled you into his arms, carrying you away from your cooking.

“No!” You squealed, too busy giggling to put up much of a fight. “The rice is going to overcook!”

Sukuna couldn't care less about the rice. He tossed you rather carelessly onto your shared bed, caging you in his arms. The kiss he pulled you into was fleeting, and soft, like he was almost afraid to touch you.

When the village elders first discovered these meetings, it didn't take them long to exile you. The very people that had welcomed you had ignored your warnings and betrayed you. You had gone from respected, and even loved, to feared in an instant.

At some point you stopped trying to warn them. If you really wanted to, you could stop him. Delay him at best. Give people time to run. At least someone would survive. But after a while, you began to think some of them deserved it. The sacrifices they provided were never enough when Sukuna grew tired of toying with them. It was just you and him. Two constant presences in each other's life. You grew used to his company. Enjoyed it, even. You’d never tell him that. Mostly because you didn't want to inflate his ego even more. You were as much his as he was yours.

At some point you became more curse than human.

You could breathe, your lungs would fill with air, but the action provided no relief. You no longer felt the need to eat, and often found yourself forgetting to do so. Food turned to ash in your mouth. The enjoyment of eating was long since lost to you. You're alive, but you're not. Your heart beats but the blood that courses through your veins is not quite right. Your memories of yourself when you were younger fade. But the anger. That fear, that anger, cast into the past, is the only humanity left in you.

You found yourself falling asleep next to him, and in turn waking up next to him. Sometimes in his arms, sometimes on the other side of the bed. He found himself opening his arms for you to climb into. You would do so, albeit reluctantly.

You were his partner. You were a nuisance, but you were his partner.

"Am I dead?" You asked, one morning in the fall. You think it was fall. You remember the leaves turning yellow and orange, but it wasn't cold enough to be winter.

"I haven't killed you yet, so no." He said. "Why?"

"Because I woke up and saw your face, and thought I had finally gone to hell." You said.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. An offended sounding huff left him. He rolled over onto you, pinning you to the sheets. His knees planted on either side of your body, his hands found your wrists. It’d take no effort from you to throw him off. But you didn't. You never did.

“You’re not in hell yet,” he said.

“I'd beg to differ,”

“Then beg,”

“Make me!”

He attacked your neck with wet, open mouth kisses, sending you into a giggling fit. Your skin was warm under his lips. You were always so warm. You were flushed from your chest to your forehead, blush dusting the tips of your ears and your nose. Your arms wrapped around your neck, pulling him flush to your chest. Your heartbeat was audible, racing as he pressed his ear to your chest.

“Stay in bed a little longer,” he said. He was pleading more than he was asking. And you weren't able to find it in you to refuse.

It wasn't entirely awful having someone stronger than him.

[lenyul]

To Sir, With Love Episode 2: This Chinese opera performance is not just gay, it's also political!

Yang perfectly executes a market fight, and also establishes that he's still the nicest person ever. The city has Japanese soldiers because of the war, which really narrows down the timeframe, it's definitely 1943. Now we know the year, if only they gave us literally any information about the characters' age.

The scenes with Bua and the boys are the cutest, the three of them should just run away together and live happily ever after, but Tian actually cares about the business so I guess they're stuck.

Li wonders if Tian is the way he is because of her own karma or Zhang's curse. The curse turning Tian gay doesn't make much sense, as it should mostly affect Song by making him feel the rejection from someone he cares about. Still, I am glad the curse is mentioned, if only because I want Zhang to matter. Like it would really suck if he killed himself in the first episode, and that action had no influence on the other characters or the plot.

The sidekicks are not the smartest, but at least this way the moms have plenty of opportunities to explain their plans without resorting to just monologuing to the audience. When Li tells Mud to serve Tian, the best case scenario would be that they have sex and it turns out he was never really gay. Unfortunately for Li, that's not what happens, as Tian is not as interested in keeping his secret as his she is. If he let her stay the night that could have gotten some rumours going, but even that didn't happen, so no one is happy. They yell at each other in the garden about it while Chan eavesdrops from behind the bushes. She finds out nothing, but they have got to stop having these arguments where people can overhear.

We meet Pin! She's adorable and so clumsy that she's basically a walking infomercial. "Don't you just hate it when you're carrying a family heirloom through the market, someone bumps into you slightly and you throw away the priceless vase?" Luckily Yang is there, so she fumbles her way into a meet-cute.

And we finally meet lover boy! Tian's in love, I'm in love, you're in love.

And we made it to the performance! Yang asks Tian what play this is right after the actor introduces themself as Hua Mulan, this is mostly so the viewers feel smart for knowing who Mulan is (even if only from the Disney movie). The story of Mulan has some stuff about disguising who you really are, so it could have some parallels with Tian's feelings. But wait! They adapted the play to protest Japanese soldiers, which means the soldiers start shooting everyone who's there. Yang saves a little kid, and Tian almost gets hurt, but lover boy comes to the rescue.

Lover boy's body count: 2 (this is probably worth keeping an eye on)

We find out that Tian has to get married and have children before he can become the head of the association, and that his mom found a very nice young lady for him in Pin. They take a walk in the gardens where Pin tries to stumble into Tian, which seems like a solid plan until you realise that she's naturally very clumsy, so obviously this doesn't work out. Tian finds an excuse to leave to do Business Success Win so Pin and Yang have time to bond and negotiate blackmail.

Chan finally finds the hairpin that Tian's been hiding for 12 years! She doesn't really think anything of it, because hairpins are not suspicious items (unlike half-burned hairpins).

By the end of this episode, the scene is mostly set, we know the characters (except lover boy, but he's supposed to be mysterious), so we're ready to move on to things (probably mostly murder attempts) happening. Next episode: Will Tian tell her mom that Chan is hiding in the closet? Will Chan find out that Tian is hiding in the closet? Will we find out lover boy's name? (Tiny spoiler: all of these questions have the same answer. (ETA: even tinier spoiler: no they don't, I just completely missed something when i first watched episode 3))

[galactic-magick]

As Long As I’m With You: Agnes/Agatha Harkness x Reader

Request: Hi, can you please do where Agnes (a villain) saves fem reader's life because she has feelings for her? In the end they end up together // also took some ideas from this request

Summary: You’re accused of witchcraft in your village, and a mysterious beautiful witch comes to your aid.

Words: 2200+

Warnings: fem reader, Agatha is low key evil so she hurts some people, a swear word, reader has an angsty past

Author’s Notes: This can be read as either a standalone fic or as a prequel to my other fic “Spell Practice.” I took quite a lot of creative liberty with this, hopefully that’s alright. Also disclaimer I am in no way a history expert so even though this is set in like the 1500s-1600s it’s probably very inaccurate, but it’s fanfic so anything goes right?

Taglist: @nyx-aira​ @midnight-lestrange​ @thestrangeundoing​ @thegayances @sleep-deprived-athlete @dr-robotnik-said-hella​ @fallingfor-fics @p-nymph​ @thelanawinterrs @sunproud​ (if your tag didn’t work it might be bc your blog isn’t searchable so make sure that’s on so you’re notified of future fics!)

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You had no idea how much your life would change when you left your house that day.

It started out with a simple run to the market and the garden to get what you needed for supper that night, a job that almost always falls to you. You don’t necessarily mind getting away from your family and talking to some people in town, but it’s clear that your family doesn’t want you in the house as much as possible either.

It’s gotten to the point where they’re just looking for a reason to get rid of you. You’re a disappointment, after all. You refuse to marry in order to help your family’s status, even though you’ve gotten a couple offers. You counter your parent’s rules and ideas every chance you get, no matter how much they tell you you’re crazy. They belittle you constantly, saying your dreams are worth nothing and you’ll have to be dependent on them forever if you never submit to the role in society you’re supposed to.

Obviously bullying you out of their lives wasn’t working, so they’ve moved on to spreading rumors about you and setting you up for crimes. None have worked yet, of course, but every day you fear they’ll get too close.

Until you get burned at the stake, though, they’ve given you basically every responsibility of the house. You do all the shopping, cooking, and farming, as well as taking care of your younger siblings. You wonder what they’d do without you, despite how much they seem to want you gone.

As you’re buying a few crops and eggs from your neighbors, you swear you see something move. You turn around and see a little boy floating in the air, screaming.

You drop everything in your arms and reach up to him, trying to grab him and help him down, but he keeps flailing, and his screams start to feel directed at you.

“Hey! It’s okay! Let me help you!” you hold your hand up, speaking as calmly as you can. “I’m not going to hurt you,”

“WITCH!” a man yells as he sees you. “SHE’S A WITCH!”

Everyone around turns and watches you.

“No! No! I’m not the one doing this! I’m trying to help!”

“Let him down and maybe we’ll wait to kill you til tomorrow!” someone else demands.

A couple people march towards you to grab you, and all you can think to do is start running.

You race out of the center of town into the trees, and about five men chase after you. You keep going until it feels like your legs are going to give out and you can barely breathe, but they keep coming.

“Please! Please stop! It wasn’t me I swear!” you cry. “I don’t know what was happening!”

“Shut up, girl,” one grunts. “Your father always said there was something wrong with you, makes sense that you’re a witch!”

“What’s so wrong about witches?” a female voice calls.

You and the men spin around, trying to figure out where it came from.

Before you can blink there’s purple smoke surrounding you, and the men are thrown against the trees. They’re knocked unconscious instantly, but you remain standing and untouched.

“Who are you?” you ask, your voice quivering.

“Don’t be afraid, my dear,” the smoke starts to fade and you can make out her silhouette, then eventually her face. “I’m here to help you,”

She’s beautiful. You’ve never seen someone that immediately feels so friendly, so different in all the best ways.

“It’s alright to stare, I know I’m quite a sight,” she laughs. “I’m Agatha,”

“I’m Y/N,”

“Ah, yes, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard of you,” she smiles. “Everyone in the village can barely stand you,”

“Thanks…?” you’re not sure how to respond, especially after all that just happened. “Wait, if you live in my village, why have I never seen you? And how come you’ve never gotten caught using magic?”

“Memory spells, of course,” she shrugs. “Now, let’s get you somewhere safe, alright?”

You nod, and she wraps an arm around you. She takes you deep into the forest until you reach a small house, the glimmer of the fire peering through the windows.

You settle down on a chair while she makes some tea and food. She offers you a blanket and hands you the cup and plate, sitting down across from you.

“So how long have you been practicing magic?” she asks.

“Oh…I…well actually I don’t know how to use any magic,”

“Really? Why were the witch hunters after you then?”

“I was set up, I think,” you say. “There was a little boy floating in the air, and since I was near him they thought it was me. But I wasn’t doing anything,”

“Well,” Agatha sips her tea. “Sometimes magic can manifest itself subconsciously. Maybe you were doing it but didn’t realize it. It’s quite common,”

“But…how would I have magical powers? I’ve never learned it from anywhere,”

“Some people are just born with the gift,” she grins.

You exhale, thinking over what she said. Could it be true? You’ve been a witch all your life without even knowing it?

 -

 That night, Agatha conjures another bed for you to sleep in. But even though she made it as comfortable as she possibly could, you can’t get a wink of sleep.

You lift off the blanket and wrap it tightly around you, getting up slowly and quietly. You walk outside and sit against a tree, looking up at the stars.

You’re sure your family has heard the news by now. Their disappointment of a daughter is finally gone, accused of witchcraft. It seems that the foreseeable future will be spent with Agatha, the only safe person you have.

You wonder just how much she already knows about you. She mentioned she’s heard people gossiping about you all the time in town, yet she still saved you after hearing all those negative things.

Why is that?

“Can’t sleep?”

You jump at her voice, and she chuckles a bit at your reaction.

“Sorry,” you sigh. “I just have a lot to think about from today, I guess,”

“No worries,” she sits down beside you. “So do I,”

“Agatha,” you say. “Why did you save me?”

“Us witches have to stick together. I saw you were in trouble, so I saved you,”

“But you knew, didn’t you? You’ve known I was a witch long before this, didn’t you?”

“I had my suspicions,” she agrees. “Whenever I heard people talk about you, I figured you weren’t like everyone else. But I didn’t know for sure until today,”

“I wish you had taken me before,” you huff, a few tears falling down your cheeks. “It’s been so bad, Agatha, feeling worthless just because you’re different, everyone hates you…”

She pulls you into her shoulder, letting you cry into it, “I know, dear, I know,”

 -

 It takes you a while to come to terms with your potential powers, but as soon as you’re ready Agatha begins to teach you how to use them. You spend your days studying her spell books and practicing simple spells, most of which you fail at.

She encourages you as much as possible, explaining to you that magic is not something you can learn overnight, sometimes not even over years. She tells you that she’s actually thousands of years old (a surprise to you due to her stunning looks) and she’s been practicing for much of that time, and there’s still some spells she hasn’t mastered.

Your impatience still gets the better of you most days, though. You can’t imagine waiting several centuries to get something to work, if you get it to work at all.

One day you’re sitting at the table, trying out a simple transfiguration spell. You wave your hand repeatedly at a potato, hoping to turn it into an apple. It doesn’t even wobble, not even a single spark, but you’ve been sitting here for hours and don’t want to give up just yet.

You nearly fall asleep from exhaustion when all of a sudden it happens. It works.

There’s an apple in front of you. Not a potato, an apple.

“Holy shit!” you scream. “Agatha! I did it!”

You run over to her and point at your small accomplishment.

“Look at you go, darling!” she smiles, hugging you. “At this rate you’ll be changing rocks into cats before you’re 200!”

You laugh, “Oh come on, this is literally just one of the beginner spells,”

“So what? That’s where everybody starts,”

You break out in giddy excitement again, jumping up and down a bit and looking back and forth just to make sure your creation is still there.

Without thinking, you kiss Agatha quickly on the lips.

She stares at you, mouth open.

Before you can apologize, she grabs your face and kisses you hard. She’s everything you’d imagined and more, soft and warm but with a spark you can’t ignore.

When you finally break apart, her hands linger, brushing across your features and in your hair, “I’ve been waiting to do that,”

 -

 Things change after that, but in only the best ways.

Agatha isn’t just your mentor anymore, the only friend who came to your aid.

She’s your everything now, a soulmate, your home.

You tell her all about your life, and she tells you all about hers. As she has significantly more stories to tell, you’ll fall asleep many nights to her whispering all the legends she lived through that no one else knows are true.

She makes you laugh every day, and makes sure you always know how much she cares about you. There’s only so much you can do in your hidden home in the woods, but with magic the possibilities are endless and she’s never short of romantic ideas.

Tonight you find yourself lying your head in her lap while she plays with your hair, close to the fire so you can watch the little shows she creates with the flames.

“What about love?” you ask.

“What about it?”

“Out of all the stories you’ve told me, you’ve never mentioned being in love before,”

“Well,” she sighs. “That’s because I haven’t been,”

“Why not?”

“It’s just never appealed to me,” she says. “Until I met you,”

“Oh,” you grin, looking up at her.

She leans down to kiss you, but you’re broken apart by a loud noise outside.

You shoot up, looking at Agatha in pure panic. Your heart races as the noise gets louder and louder, eventually leading to shouting and knocks at the door.

“WE FOUND YOU!” a booming voice yells.

“Aggie?” you whisper. Everything crumbles around you. Your perfect, happy life, now about to be stolen from you. You have no idea how they found you, if you are about to be dead, if you’ll be able to defend yourself at all.

She kisses you and stands up, “Stay here. I’ll take care of it,”

With a fling of her fingers the door flies open, and the torches the townspeople are holding are burnt out. She smirks, purple smoke covering the area as she goes through them one by one, some just throwing to the side and others suffering a painful death.

She turns their own weapons against them, their own people against them, and makes them regret everything they’ve ever done.

When she returns to you, you’re still in so much shock and panic you couldn’t tell exactly what she was doing.

“Did you…kill all of them?”

“They got what they deserved for threatening us,” she says nonchalantly. “But we’re not safe here anymore. It’s time to find somewhere new,”

“Okay,” you nod as she pulls you against her. “As long as I’m with you,”

“I’ll always protect you, even when you learn enough to protect yourself,” she kisses your forehead. “Always and forever,”

 APPROXIMATELY FOUR CENTURIES LATER

 “I’m back, darling!” Agatha calls, shutting the door behind her.

“How’d it go?” you run to her, grabbing her hands.

“Splendid, that poor Wanda already loves her new neighbor!”

“Wow,” you giggle. “You know I must say, this whole living in a sitcom thing isn’t that bad, you look gorgeous in that 50s dress,”

“Oh darling, somehow after all this time you still flatter me,” she pretends to fan herself. “I have to go back over real quick, alright? Gotta give her this spicy magazine,” she holds her hand up in the air and magically forms one in her grasp.

“Ah! Be sure to get some ideas to use on me when you get back,” she laugh.

“Oh I will honey,” she winks, kissing you before going out the door.

You settle on the couch, looking around at your home. Out of all the places you’ve moved to together, this was by far the weirdest. There’s no color, and everyone besides you and Agatha and Wanda are under some kind of mind control.

You never imagined that day all those years ago would bring you here, spending your life with a beautiful witch and being her partner in all things, even sinister ones. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, and you know this strange town will only bring you more opportunities to practice your magic and help Agatha with her plans.

[andypantsx3]

if i could keep cool | 3

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 20,322 words / 6 chapters

summary: A villain attacks Shouto Todoroki’s apartment and kidnaps what he apparently believes to be Todoroki’s secret lover. The bad news—for both you and the villain in question—is that you’re just there to clean the place. That’s how it starts.

tags: romance, reader-insert, accidental sugar daddy shouto, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

Things did not go back to normal.

You’d opened the door Tuesday morning, expecting the usual empty apartment for your next shift. Only, Todoroki had been there again, stretched out on his couch, a book in hand and what looked like an empty tea mug perched on the coffee table next to him. He was in a pair of dark slacks and another soft looking button up, rolled up at the elbows, and he did not look like he was planning on going anywhere.

“Oh, um, is now not a good time?” you asked, freezing in the doorway.

Todoroki looked up from his book, and you took a surprised step back. Damn, he was handsome. Apparently the weekend had dimmed your memory of just how handsome.

“I have the day off,” he said in his low, even tone. “I hope I won’t be in your way.”

You stared. “Oh, no. Just...uh, do your thing.”

He nodded, and you ducked down under the sink to grab your supplies again, then beat a hasty retreat to start in his bedroom while he wasn’t in it. It felt weird being in his room when he was just outside, but you powered through your usual checklist of items, making his bed, sweeping the floor, and wiping down all the furniture. When you got to the ensuite, you couldn’t help but check around for evidence of a secret lover, now that it was a hot topic of discussion, but didn’t find much beyond his sparse collection of toiletries.

It was disappointing that you’d been subjected to so much for a rumor that apparently wasn’t even true.

When you made it back to the kitchen, Todoroki was already there, seated at the island like he meant to talk to you again.

You startled and fumbled the disinfectant. “W-will I be in your way?”

He watched you evenly, a small smile pulling at his mouth. “I did tell you I planned on protecting my countertops.”

You let out a shocked laugh, delighted he’d remembered your conversation from last week. “We’ll see about that, hero. I have my ways.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Not to worry, I have a backup plan if careful supervision fails.”

You looked at him curiously, and he produced a thin package in plain brown paper, sliding it across the granite at you like money in a television drug deal. He looked so suspiciously blank while he did it, the whole move almost made you want to laugh.

You settled for staring instead, wondering what he wanted you to do with the package. Were you supposed to put it somewhere? He sensed your confusion and gestured at it with one long-fingered hand.

“For you," he said. "A bribe to ensure the safety of my kitchen surfaces. It seemed to work last time.”

Oh, he meant the tulips. Had he really gotten you something else? Did he really still feel that guilty?

You smiled and waved a brash hand at him. “Oh! You don’t--that isn’t, I mean--you don’t need to give me anything. I meant what I said about calling it even.”

Then you remembered another unnecessary gift he’d given you and stuck your hand in your back pocket, fishing out the leftover tip from last time. “Oh, also this! You gave me too much last time. I took the amount your manager usually leaves.”

Todoroki looked at you strangely. You knew from your ventures on the internet that he was about your age, but he had this way of looking at you like he’d spent a hundred years traveling the world and still found you to be the strangest thing he’d encountered in it. You flushed pink.

“I was given to understand that there were vegetables in need of buying,” he said simply.

You pushed the money at him. “Yeah, which I can do with my normal amount, Todoroki. This is like buy a whole farmer’s market worth of vegetable money.”

He stared blankly at you. “I intended for you to keep it.”

You stared back. Of course he had intended that, but it wasn’t the right amount. Did he not understand how money worked? Why was he being like this?

Todoroki pushed both the package and the money back at you, fixing you with one of the most intent looks you’d ever been on the receiving end of. You felt your cheeks darken. “Last time...I don’t believe we introduced ourselves when we agreed to start over.”

You peered at him curiously. The conversation change seemed abrupt, and strange, like he was trying to distract you from arguing any further. Were you making him uncomfortable?

“Shouto,” he held out a large, long-fingered hand, like he intended for you to shake it.

You reached out hesitantly. His hand was warm, rough with callouses, and something shivery went down your spine when he closed his hand around yours. “Um, Y/N,” you supplied.

“Y/N,” he repeated to himself, and the sound of your name in his mouth fed the weird, shivery feeling. You pulled your hand away from his, and turned to the opposite counter to hide your face from him. God, was it impossible for you to keep your cool around him? Why were you so embarrassing?

Todoroki seemed undeterred by your sudden shyness, keeping up a steady stream of conversation as you worked your way through his kitchen. You wondered at his determination to speak to you, when in the media he seemed so aloof and kind of reclusive. His tone was quiet, and his manner fairly obtuse, as expected, but compared to what you’d heard of him previously, he seemed much kinder.

Todoroki surprised you even further by following up on topics from your previous conversation, which was made all the more embarrassing by the fact that everything he asked about seemed so normal and boring. You wondered why he’d even bothered to ask about the paper you’d complained about last time, when he spent his days literally fighting super villains. Papers were evil, sure, but nothing on the level of actual villains.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, when you failed to respond to his question about your paper.

You shook your head. “Nothing. I was just--surprised that you would ask, is all. Hearing about university has to be boring after everything you do all day.”

You were surprised by a low laugh. “Not really. I’d never considered going--being a hero was all I’d ever given thought to. It’s all my friends ever considered as well. It's...interesting to talk about something that isn't villains or attacks or strategy.”

You thought this over. “Still, though. It can hardly be what you actually want to talk about.”

“It’s...relaxing,” Todoroki allowed. “Thinking about something that is so different from what I do. It’s...nice.”

You thought on this. You couldn’t tell if he was just being nice or if he truly meant it, as he was kind of hard to get a read on, but you supposed if he was telling the truth, you could humor him. Maybe it really was nice to take a break from heroics, to explore other topics of conversation that didn’t carry the weight of human lives on them.

“Well if you really want to know, then my paper’s almost finished,” you said. “The cranky roommate was distracting all weekend so I spent Sunday churning it out in a coffee shop. The fancy one near campus with the nice beans, so it was actually a pretty good time.”

He asked the name of it, and you gave it, wondering if he was into coffee too. He didn’t look like a coffee guy, but then it was hard to tell anything with him. He was so unlike anything you’d expected him to be.

Things got weird again when you finally worked your way over to the island where he’d apparently pushed the money and the brown paper package even closer to you. You stared down at them.

“I’d like for you to accept them,” Todoroki said firmly, once he noticed you looking.

“I didn’t get you anything,” you said, feeling strangely squirmish. “I thought we agreed we’d call it even.”

The look on his face told you he’d agreed to no such thing.

“They’re not apologies,” he said simply. “They’re gifts.”

You looked at him, but he didn’t elaborate any more than that, and your sense of confusion only swelled. What was this all about, really? Was this normal for him? You wondered at the strangeness of the situation you’d found yourself in, and had a hard time concluding what the right thing to do was. Eventually, however, you took a tentative step closer to the counter. Your curiosity about what was in the package was gradually overwhelming your good sense and confusion. Maybe you could accept that and leave the money?

You said as much to him. “This is---really nice of you. I do mean what I said about the tip, though. I can’t accept that,” you mourned the lost vegetables, “but, um, I will accept this? If that’s okay?”

Todoroki looked like he wanted to argue, but at your pointed look, he seemed to reconsider, watching you evenly with those heterochromatic eyes. “Very well,” he said by way of acknowledgement, but something in his tone told you this wasn’t over.

You eyed him. He might be a pro hero and have cash to fling around, but you weren’t a push over. If he thought he’d get his way by arguing more, he was in for a rude awakening. You apparently had no reservations about telling one of the world’s most famous heroes to go fuck himself if pressed. He wasn’t going to win this battle either.

Slowly, you turned back to the brown paper package, carefully sliding a nail under the tape and unwrapping carefully. A fresh copy of your favorite author’s newest book stared up at you, and you couldn’t help the way your fingers clenched down possessively. Oh no.

You gaped at Todoroki. “What--?”

He looked kind of smug, like he knew just how much you liked it. “You mentioned it, last time. You said you liked reading but didn’t have the budget for books during the semester.”

Christ, had he actually been listening the whole damn time? First the vegetables and your paper, and now this? What the hell else had you said to him? What was the fastest way to cause a concussion and make him forget it all? Was this a good enough reason for joining the witness protection program?

“Todoroki, I can’t accept this,” you said.

“You said you would,” he replied. “Am I to assume you lied to me?”

Your mouth dropped open. Was he...teasing you? It was almost impossible to tell with that controlled expression and tone...but there was a glint in his eye that spoke volumes. You’d seen it before, mostly in drunk friends who were about to make mischief. Who would have thought that the notoriously deadpan number four hero had it in him?

“I’m serious,” you said. “This is too much. I loved the flowers, but you seriously don’t need to get me stuff. I know you said they’re gifts but they feel like apologies and I really don’t want that.”

Todoroki watched you closely, then rifled a hand through that red and white mop of hair. “I propose a trade for it, then, if you won’t accept it as a gift.”

You peered at him in curiosity.

“You will call me Shouto in return,” he said.

You let out a flat laugh. “That’s hardly an even deal. Be serious.”

“I am serious,” he replied, something like annoyance flecking his deep tone. He took a breath. “But one other condition, then, if you insist.”

You wondered what else he would ask for if his first request had been so ridiculous. Your first born child, maybe? A dress spun of moonlight? For you to solve these riddles three?

“Your phone number,” he said. “I’d like to text you.”

You gaped at him. He wanted what now?

“Todoroki, a name and a phone number are not payment for a gift like this,” you said slowly, trying to ignore the way your brain was rapidly entering what the fuck mode. He couldn’t be serious. “You need to trade for something you’d actually like.”

“Have you considered,” he said, “that I might like to be your friend?”

You stopped short. Oh that was...so straightforward. And also kind of nice? And also really cute?

You suddenly felt guilty for staring at him like he was a fool to ask. Was he really trying to be your friend? Was this just how deadpan rich boys did things?

“Oh, um, no,” you admitted. “I hadn’t, uh, considered. But I would like that. Being your friend.”

A slow warmth pooled in your fingertips at the idea. You did not understand this man at all, but you liked the little ironic sense of humor that sat under all the rest of it. And the way he’d apologized and had listened to your ramblings and was currently trying to befriend you was actually really sweet. You would actually like to be his friend, if that’s what he really wanted.

“Then my name and your phone number is my trade,” he said firmly.

You nodded slowly. There was a vague sense in the back of your mind like you’d just been tricked somehow, but you didn’t explore it. He’d seemed straightforward enough...right?

He handed off his phone to you for you to plug your number in, and you wondered wildly what your life was now, and what exactly Shouto Todoroki thought the two of you were going to text about.

Todoroki also hovered over you as you added him to your contacts, making sure he displayed as his first name specifically, and you laughed. “What if I know another Shouto?”

“Then you can change his contact to his family name,” Todoroki said dryly.

You huffed a laugh. Straightforward was definitely the right word for him.

After that, you fell into a somewhat easier conversation, buoyed by the knowledge that Todoroki intended to make friends. He asked you more about your life as a student, particularly interested in your thoughts on the books you’d read for lecture, your impressions of your professors this year, and your schedule and favorite haunts between classes.

In return, he shared details of his own work, stories of his time at UA, and details on some of his friends whose personal effects you’d seen around his apartment. It was so interesting to hear about the pros from someone who actually knew them personally, and it gave them dimension you would have never assigned to them yourself. It was certainly news to you that Katsuki Bakugou was a top-tier cook and could actually stop swearing and sit still long enough to make something.

You cleaned as you talked, and then found yourself lingering a little longer even after your shift had finished, enraptured by the conversation. Todoroki was so weirdly easy to talk to for someone who gave the impression of being so quiet and withdrawn, and coupled with his good looks and honest nature, it made him almost too charming.

Eventually, though, you could feel the phantom fingers of your uncompleted homework clawing at the back of your mind, and bade him a goodnight. This evening too, however, he insisted on an agency car, and moved like he would have literally shouldered the door closed on you when you started towards it before a car arrived. Then you again found yourself bundled into the back of a car, this time with a book stuffed into your hands and a vague sense of disorientation floating after you.

As you shed your jacket and backpack in the doorway of your apartment, you got a text from him as well. Goodnight, Y/N, it read, just as simple and straightforward as you would have expected from him.

You stared down at your phone for a long time, bewildered by the strange turn of events that had shaped your life these past weeks.

Shouto Todoroki had gotten you a book. Shouto Todoroki had an actual personality. Shouto Todoroki wanted to be your friend.

It seemed that after your kidnapping, returning to normal had not been an option.

If the warmth on your cheeks was any indication, you weren't so disappointed to find that out.

[softyoongiionly]

Portraits of a Tiger|| 01

Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.

And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.

Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut (later), Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: language, depictions of violence both verbal and physical however they are fairly mild, mentions of war and power dynamics, there will be smut in future parts so, (18+ only please).

Current Tag List: @bulletproofbirdy​ @gldnrecs​ @naajix​ @bluewhale52​ @nikkikenji​ @lustedkisses​

A/N: oh okayyyyy HELLO!!! Its here!!! Warrior! Yoongi is finally emerging from the depths of my writer blocked brain and I am SO happy you get to meet him. Once again, this series will be posted in parts just as Mama Mia! is and it may not necessarily follow a linear timeline. 

Also, I know I mentioned her in the tag list post but, SERIOUSLY you guys this story would not be possible without my wonderful friend @bulletbroofbirdy aka Rachel who has literally spent so much time dreaming up with wonderful universe with me. My sweet angel, you are the greatest in the world and I love you. Please go follow Rachel and send her all the love in the universe and thank her for her genius brain because, without her, this fic wouldn’t exist. 

War.  

It’s not an uncommon occurrence where you’re from.  

The ever-present shifting of the borderlines is a constant reminder of the struggle for power.

Many see it as a valiant effort, a noble cause...

But, war is something that doesn’t appeal to you.

It doesn’t sit right with your perspective on the world.

Sure, you understand it’s strengths and why it could be seen as necessary.

However, the consequences of war, of violence- never seem to be worth it.  

Death.

It’s not an uncommon occurrence where you’re from.  

When war is constantly raging on the background, it should be expected.  

It should be normal.  

To most of your district, it is.  

To you?

Every single rise in the death toll sends icy despair into your heart.  

Every drop of blood spilled feels as though it’s your own.  

You’re desperate to find the solution for peace but, you know it’s not that simple.  

Man is never content.

The struggle for power is never ending.  

As you grow up, you learn to adapt.  

Learning a trade is the easiest way to establish yourself so, you take up knitting and medicine.  

You sell your wears and remedies in the market every other day and spend your off days replenishing the stock that you sold.  

Your parents live comfortably but in order for them to do so, you’re in the market for hours on end.  

Today starts as any other.  

You’re gathering your wears in your family’s home as the sun is beginning to peak over the mountains.

The colors it throws through your window are breathtaking and, if you weren’t so exhausted, you’d be able to enjoy them a bit more.  

Thankfully, your preparations don’t wake your parents as they sleep soundly in their bed.  

You wish for nothing more than for them to be at peace every chance they get.  

They have sacrificed so much.

The market displays its usual scenery.  

The fishermen are always first setting up their catches from the evening prior, the butchers are hanging up their kills from the overnight hunt whilst the farmers arrange seasonal produce on their carts...

You always have your cart near the end of the market.  

It’s easier for people to think about softer things such as knitted blankets or healing elixirs once they’ve purchased their food.  

Thankfully, business is decent.  

Your wares are well-made and your elixirs have an exceptional success rate.

The prices are fair so you attract all walks of life but, you focus more on serving the lower class folk such as yourself.  

One of the fisherman, who you’ve grown acquainted with over the last few months, nods to your cart as you’re setting it up.

“What do you have today __?”

With a smile, you hold up a mauve woolen blanket which you’ve spent nearly two weeks on.

“This is the item of the day. I used a root dye to get the color- what do you think?”

He purses his lips, nodding in consideration, “I’m sure someone will snag that right away. It looks warm. It will be very useful over the next few months. Do you have any of that uh- “ Lowering his voice, he cranes his neck to assess whether or not any of his team can hear him, “ginseng mixture that you sold to me last week?”

You bite back a smirk as you nod towards the woven basket containing your various medicines, “I do. I made a new batch last night. Did you need some?”

A rapid nod is sent your way along with a handful  of coins, “Thanks. It worked wonders last time. My wife sends her gratitude.”

Your cheeks heat up immediately but given that you’ve heard worse things in the market place, you merely giggle and file your payment away.

Ginseng is a natural stimulant that you often recommend to men experiencing issues with sex or fertility. Whilst you completely stand by its effectiveness, you won’t deny that it’s slightly awkward working with the men you’ve helped. Especially since they often insist on loudly announcing how many times they had sex the night before.

The rest of the setup goes smoothly and by the time the sun fully takes its place in the sky, you are ready for the market to open.  

As your adjusting the sign on the front of your cart, you hear an interesting bout of conversation ignite in front of you

“Did you hear? The Royal Army is arriving today to refuel.”

“You’re lying. Are you serious? Do they- do you think they have him with them?”

“Of course! They aren’t stupid enough to travel without him. They’d be ambushed immediately.”

“Yah, what are you talking about?”

“The Tiger. He’s coming through town today.”

Instantly, your heart stalls in your chest.

You try your best to appear unbothered but, it doesn’t stop the panic from seeping into your bones.

The Tiger and the fleet of warriors he oversees are well-known in your village.  

Word of mouth is truly a powerful mechanism for spreading information and, stories of The Tiger had been circulating for quite sometime.

They started out simply depicting a powerful new recruit into the Royal Army.

Despite his initial inexperience, The Tiger quickly rose through the ranks due to his otherworldly fighting skills.  

According to the rumors, The Tiger was known for his silent destruction.  

By the time his enemies could grasp what was happening, The Tiger and his men had already completed their mission.  

They had already killed, maimed or destroyed whatever they were after.  

A recent success had led to The Tiger becoming the General of the largest fleet in the Royal Army.

From what you had gathered, he wasn’t much older than you so the fact that he essentially lead an entire army is quite impressive.

However, given the stories of his cruel and cold blooded nature, it makes a lot of sense.

“I heard he beheads the enemy general on the battlefield after he wins...”

“I heard he killed 3,000 men all on his own in the middle of a thunderstorm!”

“I heard he keeps a viper on him at all times and he sets it loose on anyone he disobeys him!”

“I heard that he never sleeps.”

“Do you think he’ll come here? Would he be seen out in public like that?”

“Why wouldn’t he? He has nothing to fear, there isn’t a single soul in this village who could take him on.”

“Plus, he never travels alone. He’ll have his men with him.”  

With a snort, you continue displaying your cart as normal and, only then do you realize that you stand out amongst the other merchants.

Every single one of them has an offering for the warriors.

It’s not customary to do so and, you’re only viable guess is that it has something to do with the market fawning over this tiger character.

“Were we supposed to put something out?” You murmur to the woman beside you, brows knitting in confusion.

She chuckles heartily, “When a normal fleet enters, no. We usually just offer them food and the resources we can spare.” A bit of excitement flashes through her eyes as she adjust the basket of radishes on her cart, “However, this is no ordinary fleet. I suggest you put something out too dear, that pretty face of yours could land you husband on the Tiger’s army, any one of his men would be a worthy mate. They aren’t shooting blanks like my husband over here!”

Her body jostles with laughter as she shoves her hand up against the man beside her, who looks whole-heartedly unamused.

“Jane, please...” He grumbles

You can’t help the grimace that comes across your face when Jane mentions finding a husband but, it’s quickly replaced with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

“I have something for that.” You offer in a hushed tone and, the man seems to unfurl from his submissive position as he offers a meek smile.

“You do?”

You don’t have time to answer him before the mood of the market shifts into quiet chaos.

“I think they’re coming!” The fisherman whispers frantically, adjusting the sign on his cart for the millionth time.

As much you hate to give in to the hype, you feel compelled to go with the flow and, put something out for the warriors.  

You settle on a basket of your most popular anti-inflammatory ailment that’s proven to be quite effective amongst your customers.  

The long strips of white wood are haphazardly placed into a woven basket as you brace your ears for the piercing sound of trumpets.

Magnificent as the musicians in your village are, the blaring cacophony of noise is far from something you wish to be apart of this early in the morning.  

However, the noise never comes.  

The gates open up as normal as a reasonable size crowd begins meandering throughout the market.  

You turn towards Jane with confusion painting your features, “Where’s the music?”

Jane is adjusting her radishes once again, glancing eagerly towards the crowd of people, “The Tiger does not allow fanfare of any kind. A far away village defied his orders once and played for him and his fleet anyway and- well...” She smirks bemusedly, “it didn’t end well for them, so we respect his wishes.”

Your eyes widen at that as you nod, swallowing back any fear that threatens to crawl up your throat.  

“Got it.”

The usual slew of customers begin filing in and as business begins to pick up, you slowly forget about the famous warriors that were to enter.  

Roughly, an hour later, your basket of willow bark remains untouched and, you begin to consider putting it back in its normal place. This particular bark is quite annoying to obtain and you don’t feel great about giving it away to some warrior after you’ve spent hours trying to procure it.  

However, as you glance at other offering baskets, you notice that some of them have been emptied.  

This means of course that either your fellow merchants put their offerings away or, the warriors are already in the market.  

A strange and unsettling feeling washes over you at the thought of deadly warriors perusing throughout town. You expected that they would be recognizable, especially given their reputation but, nothing seems to give away their presence.  

As a paying customer leaves your cart with an armful of various items, you notice something that normally doesn’t garner your attention: hair.  

You see it amongst the crowd, peeking over the tops of heads.

It’s a shimmering icy platinum and it’s tied up atop a strangers head with a beaded string. It moves throughout the crowd slowly, stopping at various points, likely exchanging words with another merchant before you finally make out the face it belongs to.  

A man dressed in cotton linens maneuvers out of the crowd, dark eyes scanning his surroundings almost anxiously. As he moves closer to you, you’re able to fully take in his features.  

Pointed and smooth, his face is the epitome of contradiction.  

Deep brown eyes, rounded button-nose, pouty lips and strong eyebrows adorn his face whilst his rather large hand flexes instinctually towards the object hanging off of his hips.

It’s a sword.  

This man certainly isn’t a civilian.  

Unfortunately, you’re unable to ignore the beauty he possesses. He is quite ethereal once you get a closer look at him; you don’t think you’ve ever seen another person that looks quite like him.  

As he speaks with the fisherman, your ears perk up to in an attempt to hear the sound of his voice.  

Faintly, you can discern a bit of rasp and calculation in his tone but, you aren’t able to absorb it over the sound of the market.  

Its then you realize that you’ve been staring at this stranger for far too long and, if you’re ever going to meet your quota today, you need to avoid distractions.  

You sell another one of your blanket moments later, increasing your daily total by a reasonable amount. Making blankets is enjoyable yes but, it’s extremely time consuming so it feels good when someone rewards you for your hard work.  

“Please have some radishes! They’re grown in top soil from the northern region! It gives them a certain uh- “ Jane’s shrill voice pulls your attention towards her cart which now brandishes a new visitor: the stranger with the blonde hair.

You're realizing that Jane is pausing mid-sentence because, she is desperately looking to you for answers.

You've assisted Jane with her produce before as she was having trouble with the flavor of some of her vegetables. This was mainly due to the fact that she had been using the wrong kind of fertilizer but, you had also given her several tips to improve the overall taste of her produce.

“A certain crunch...” You finish for her, stabilizing your tone as you brave a glance towards the man. “The mixture of the soils helps with the texture.”

His feline gaze rushes towards you at the sound of your voice, as if he wasn’t expecting you to speak.  

At the sight of you, his lips part momentarily before quickly sealing in a tight lipped smile which directs toward Jane.

“Thank you.” He nods toward her as he takes one of the radishes and tucks it into the pocket of his linen pants.

“Of course! Um thank you- sir for your...services...” She stutters and it’s then you notice that she hasn’t made eye contact throughout the entirety of their conversation.  

A bit of discomfort flashes through his eyes but otherwise, he merely grunts in acknowledgement.  

Jane’s comment is the last bit of confirmation you need that this man is indeed a warrior.

However, his reaction to her words strikes you as odd. Warriors rarely shy away from gratitude. They are often proud and boastful regarding their positions but, he seems to be bothered by what she said.  

The man never looks back at Jane as he makes his way to the next cart. Every so often, you notice him looking over his shoulder or glancing towards the entrances/exits of the market. His presence doesn’t necessarily make you uneasy but, his behavior sure does.

He acts as though he is in danger.

It puts you on edge but, you direct your attention back to the customer in front of you.

“Good morning.” You smile, “Anything catch your eye?”

The man cards a hand through his salt and pepper hair as he leans over your cart, eagerly scanning the items you have on display.

“Eh do you have anything for dry skin? With winter around the corner, I gotta start thinking about this old skin of mine. The wind does a lot of damage on my knuckles.”

“You know what? I think I have just the thing...” You bend down to access the crate beneath your counter and grab a medium sized glass bottle, “This is an olive oil and honey treatment, it will treat dry skin immediately but, it’s meant to treat dry skin over a longer period of time too. I also-” You bend down once more to grab a tin of cocoa butter and place it on the counter top, “have this. This should help with daily wear and tear. You only need a little bit so this tin should last you through the winter.”

The man smiles eagerly and quickly reaches for his pockets before he freezes. You don’t notice until you look up from your counter but, the platinum haired warrior is back and, he’s standing right behind your customer.

“O-Oh go ahead, go ahead. I uh- I'll go next...” The man stutters, gesturing frantically to your cart.

With a quirked brow the warrior moves to step in front of him until you raise your hand.

“No sir, it’s ok. You’re in the middle of a transaction.” You insist, eyeing the warrior sternly,  “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

The immediate crowd surrounding your cart seems to pause, nervously glancing towards the warrior who merely nods and steps back into place.  

The shock is apparent on the faces of the crowd but you ignore it and send a reassuring smile towards your customer, “Ok, that will be 11.50 and-” You slide a bundle of rosemary towards him, “take this too, on the house. Brew it in some hot water to aid digestion, winter food tends to be a bit harsher on the system.”

The man swallows nervously, dragging his items toward his chest, “Thank you—uh so much. Thank you.” He turns towards the warrior, directing his gaze towards his feet as he bows his head, “Thank you for your service...”

The man doesn’t allow the warrior time to respond before he rushes off back into the crowd but, you get the feeling that it wouldn’t matter regardless.  

The warrior doesn’t seem interested in anyone’s gratitude.  

“Let me know if you have any questions.” You nod your head towards him, pushing the basket with your offering towards the edge of the counter before busying yourself with putting a few things back in their place.

He says nothing but, he approaches the counter whilst his eyes shrewdly observe the ins and outs of your set up.

He’s even more striking up close. His smooth, tan skin is mostly unmarked except for the giant scar running down the center of his right eye. It goes up the center of his eyelid and disappears right above the center of his brow. It’s still red and angrily risen against his otherwise angelic looking face.  

A warrior indeed.

The bit of people around your cart haven’t stopped their staring but, they are at least making an attempt to look like they aren’t paying attention. It doesn’t stop you from wishing that you didn’t have an audience.  

“Tree bark?” He questions with an arch to his brow

You look towards the basket he’s gesturing to before returning your gaze back to his.

“White willow bark.” You correct, almost defensively and it cause his lips to twitch.

“Is this some kind of decoration?”

You shake your head, placing your fingers on the edge of the basket, “No. It’s meant to be chewed. It reduces inflammation. I figured it would be useful since I imagine you deal with muscle soreness quite often.”

He smirks, “Amongst other things yes,” With long elegant fingers, he points to the basket, “So- if I chew on this, I should feel relief from any pain I might be experiencing?”

An all too rapid nod comes from you as you continue your explanation, “Well it’s mainly used to treat pain in your muscles and joints. If you’re looking to treat other types of pain, I have other options...”

He shakes his head, his hair swishing to the side as he does, “This should do, thank you.”  

You suspect that he’s done, given that the bark is (annoyingly) free and he’s only seemed to be interested in the offerings thus far so, he surprises you when he asks yet another question.

“Do you have any more of that salve?”

“Of course,” You offer him a smile now that the initial tension is starting to lift, “Did you want a big tin or small tin?”

He purses his lips in thought, looking towards his hands, “What do you recommend?”

Without a second thought, you step towards him and take one of his hands, bringing it closer to your face for inspection.  

The man seems to freeze in place, eyes widening in absolute shock, his own limb betraying him as it goes limp.

His hand displays evidence of the life he lives.  

Rough, calloused and blistered...

His nails are bitten down to a point that almost looks painful but, the thing that stands out the most is how beautiful his hand is to you.  

The strength in his skin is palpable and the indigo veins protruding against his hand are a firm reminder of what he is likely capable of.  

What you don’t notice however, is the utter panic that flushes across his face or the way his eyes dart nervously between you and his hand.

Just as you would during any consultation, you briefly run your fingers over the palm of his hand and up the length of each of his fingers

“Hmm I would recommend the big tin, I think...you have a lot of rough spots but the skin between your callouses is quite smooth so,”  You carefully set his hand back onto the counter and return your eyes back to his, “what that tells me is that your skin is roughened by your environment rather than by an actual lack of moisture.” You slide the big tin towards him, “Apply this to the dryer areas as needed throughout the day but, every night before you go to bed, make sure to put this on. Sleeping with it will allow it to seep into your skin and heal the dryness over time.”  

The warrior’s eyes are transfixed on you and for a moment he is completely speechless, his hand lingering on the counter before hurriedly places them back at his side.  

He can’t understand you and why you just touched him.  

But what’s worse, is he can’t understand why his mouth is suddenly dry.

Or why his skin is on fire...

Or why his heart is thrashing around in his chest.

He clears his throat and nods, “Very good. I’ll be sure to follow your instructions.” He sticks the hand you didn’t touch into his pocket, fishing around for something, “What’s my total?”

“That will be 3.50.” You say with a smile, holding out your hand.

He dispenses his payment into your palm before stowing his items away in his free pocket.

“Thank you.” He grunts, the hand you touched still kind of awkwardly lingering away from his body.

Was he going to wash it as soon as he got the chance?

Did you smell weird?

“Of course, have a nice day. Safe travels.” With a wave, you send him off, missing the small smile that momentarily appears on his face.

You’re genuinely relieved that the encounter is over but, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t intrigue you.

Before you’re able to get your bearings and move on, Jane is rushing over to you frantically.

“What on Earth was that??? Do you know him??? Why didn’t you tell me you knew him?!” She swats your arm, her eyes wide with incredulity.

“Ow!” You grip your arm, “What are you talking about?”

The man has already disappeared back into the crowd but, you’re still attempting to keep your voice at a reasonable level.

Jane does not follow suit.

“You just put your hands on the Tiger!” Jane shrieks causing you to recoil in response, “He could kill you for that! What were you thinking?”

“He’s going to kill me because I touched his hand?” Your brow arches in amusement, as your lips threaten to smile, “I had no idea who he was Jane, I was just helping a paying customer.”

She doesn’t like your answer and quickly swats your arm again, “Y/N this is not a joke! He’s a dangerous man. I nearly fainted when you looked him in his eyes but, then you touched him and-”

“Jane, that’s enough.” The fisherman hisses, gesturing wildly to the crowd of people, “You’re making a scene and he’s still out here somewhere.”

She huffs her hands rushing to smooth out the apron over her dress before rushing a finger into your face, “You won’t be laughing if he shows up at your house with a sword in your face. You need to be careful.”

You smirk at this but otherwise comply, not wishing to fire her up any further, “Thank you for your concern Jane, I’ll make sure to carry my sword around too, you know, just in case.”  

Jane snorts then and rolls her eyes, scurrying back to her cart and mumbling something along the lines of:

“That mouth is going to get you killed...”

You can’t help but giggle.

There’s no doubt that the man you just spoke to was a warrior and, maybe he was some almighty warrior but he other than an intense staring problem, he didn’t scare you at all.

Thankfully, business is booming for the remainder of the day and although you’re thrilled at the money you’ll be taking home, you aren’t looking forward to all the replenishing you have to do.  

The last order of business before heading home is picking a few things for your parents and grabbing the last of the steamed buns for your best friend.

Rachel has lived beside you ever since you can remember. The two of you spent most of your childhood running around the village, causing mini bouts of chaos everywhere you went. Despite the challenges life had brought the both of you, you grew together rather than apart.  

Rachel is the village’s most treasured teacher and she’s been running the school for the past few years. She’s kind of the best and, you have a feeling she’ll be interested to hear about the rather interesting events that had transpired over the course of your day.  

As you turn down the dirt path towards her home, you start to wonder where the Tiger and his fleet would be staying.  

Your village wasn’t run-down but it wasn’t exactly luxurious by any standards.

The rubble near the beginning of the street along with the various empty wooden barrels doesn’t exactly count as décor and, the occasional drunken argument outside the village’s tavern certainly doesn’t add any class to the area but, its home.  

Rachel's house is easy to spot amongst the rest of the street as it’s the only one completely covered in plants.

She’s had a love of greenery for quite sometime and, it’s amongst the many things you two bond over.  

Adjusting the bag on your shoulder, you immediately reach for the handle and use all your weight to shove the front door open.  

Rachel is sitting on her sofa and despite the fact that she was expecting you, she still jumps at the sound.

“Oh my goodness!” She exclaims “Have you ever heard of knocking???”

You giggle but otherwise ignore her and lean against the door dramatically, “Rachel, you better get one last look at me because, this might be the last time you ever see me.”

She laughs lightly and folds her arms, “What did you do this time? Did you call the apothecary a fraud again?” Wiggling her fingers, she reaches out for the snacks your holding.

“Ok first of all, he is a fraud but no....it’s much much worse.” You shove the snacks into her awaiting hands before flopping down on the armchair, “I touched a man’s hand...”

She freezes, the bun lingering near her mouth, “Alright, now I am officially curious, why is hand touching worse?”

You smirk, “I touched...the Tiger’s hand” You point a finger at her quickly as her lips part, “Before you even make the joke, no it wasn’t a real tiger...it was THE tiger.”

Rachel snorts with laughter before going wide-eyed in shock, “You...wha--the Tiger? THE Tiger??? You TOUCHED the Tiger?!!?!? What were you thinking?!? Oh my god, did he bite? Wait, focus, Rachel---Why did you touch the Tiger?!?”  

Whilst she’s rambling on you burst out in a fit of giggles, snuggling back against the chair, “He came to my cart looking for a good salve for his hands. All I did was do an assessment as I normally do to see what he needed. I don’t understand why everyone is freaking out...he seemed pretty harmless to me.”

She leans forward on the couch, “Harmless? He seemed...harmless?!?” She whispers frantically, “He has personally slain hundreds of men with those very hands!!!  

“Why are we whispering?...”

Rachel returns to normal volume, rolling her eyes “Fine. More like thousands if you count how many his army has obliterated. And you just pawed at him--are you insane? He has killed people for less! At least that’s what the rumors say.”  

You keep giggling, completely unfazed as you make yourself at home, “The rumors also say that he killed an entire village because they played their trumpets for him. I don’t know how credible these rumors are.”

“Well....what was he like then? You cannot drop this information on me and not give me every detail.” She insists, gesturing wildly at you before leaning back and sipping from her mug.

“Uh he was fine. I mean- he was normal I guess, I don’t know. He has really long hair, its blonde- like really blonde. He looks young, way younger than I thought he’d be. He has a big scar over his eye. Jane was practically drooling over him...”

Realization crosses Rachel’s face as she watches you intently. She relaxes back into her chair as a knowing smile spreads across her face, “Ohhhh young, blonde, mysterious...Jane must really HAVE been drooling. Seems like she’s not the only one, though...”

“I mean- the fisherman guys were pretty excited too I guess. I don’t know what the big deal is honestly, I know he’s supposed to be good on the battlefield but they were treating him like he was some kind of king or something.” You narrow your eyes “Are you suggesting I was drooling over him? Because I definitely wasn’t...I even told him to wait his turn in line.” You insist, shifting around on the chair.

Rachel crosses her legs dramatically, steeping her fingers as she observes you, “Was that before or after you found out he was handsome? Hmm?” She smirks again, holding her hands up innocently, “I am implying nothing, I am just NOTICING that you are definitely affected by him. I haven’t seen you impressed by....well, anyone.”

She’s not wrong.

“Hey hey whoa...who said anything about impressed?? I’m not impressed. I’m not impressed at all.”

Rachel eyes you suspiciously”...right...not impressed at all. Well, did you at least hear anything about them? Any word on how long the army will be here? We’ve got to be the safest village in the country as long as they are in town.” Suddenly, she facepalms in realization, “My students will be so distracted as long as they are here.”

“Not impressed. He’s just a man with a scar and sword...” You insist, twiddling your thumbs “I guess they are just refueling, I’m not sure how long they will be here. Jane told me I need to watch my back so, hopefully not for long...” You giggle again, thinking of how excited the schoolchildren will be now that the legendary Tiger is in town, “maybe you can make an assignment out of it...”

She stares off into space for a moment and mutters, “that’s not a bad idea...we could get outside, maybe a soldier could come speak to them? There’s got to be at least one that’s not terrifying?...” Rachel shakes her head, unimpressed with your lack of understanding, “Just a man with a scar and sword—he is the most feared military leader of our generation! And I wouldn’t worry TOO much about watching your back. After all—none of the legends involve the Tiger killing civilians, do they? At the very least his presence here means good business for the village. If you can get the Tiger as a repeat customer I can only imagine the profits you’ll turn at that little stall!” She muses, laugh heartily, “Buy the salve that soothed a beast! I can hear the gossip already...”

You point a finger at her, “I like the way you think. If you ever want to stop educating and enriching the minds of our youth and be my business partner, let me know...” Suddenly the humor within you dissipates as the reality of your situation seems to sink in, “You don’t think I should be worried though right?”

Rachel lets out a short laugh, “Thanks for the offer...” She shakes her head, “As far as this Tiger business is concerned...I don’t think your safety is under any threat. How did he react when you touched him? Did he seem angry?”

“He just froze...” You recall, your eyes unfocusing slightly, “It was kind of weird honestly. I’ve never had anyone do that before. It’s pretty normal to get checked out during an apothecary visit. I guess I wasn’t supposed to look at him either but, how the hell am I supposed to do an exam if I can’t look at his face?”

“Hmmm...that is strange. I’ll be honest, I thought he would have scolded you or pulled away based on the stories. Unless...” Rachel slumps back against her sofa, her face relaxing into a smirk, “...he was just as surprised by you as you were of him.”

You wrinkle your nose, “Ew no. Definitely not.”  

Rachel doesn’t look convinced but you continue nevertheless, suddenly wishing to change the subject.

“He looked nervous I guess- I don’t know. His hand just sort of hung there after I finished. Today was weird...anywayyy-” You nod to the dough between your palms, “How are the buns? Did anything interesting happen in the education world.”

“Oh three boys got in a worm eating contest and threw up on their practice parchment so I could go without that kind of interesting for awhile. The buns are transcendent as usual but you-” She narrows her eyes in your direction, “- are dodging. Why would a general be nervous around you hmm? You said he is young...is he also handsome?”

“Ah god I love kids...” You note with a giggle before shrugging, shrinking back into the chair, “I don’t know. Objectively he- he definitely wasn’t ugly.”

Rachel raises an eyebrow, “I sense there is more to it than that.”

“Fine. He was easily the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life. There! Are you happy now?” You grumble before dramatically staring off into the distance, “Oh to be murdered by the most handsome man alive...how romantic.”

This prompts a twinkling bout of laughter from Rachel who has finally finished the first of her many snacks, “I can think of worse ends my friend. Perhaps that was your only interaction? I am sure he is busy making preparations; too busy to be executing smart-mouthed apothecaries. I wouldn’t fret too much Y/N.”

With you sigh, you accept her analysis, sending a nod her way, “You’re probably right and, that’s probably for the best.” Despite the conviction in your tone, you can feel the disappointment on your face, “Thank you for calling my mouth smart.” You smirk before nodding toward the door, “I should probably head home. My father has a nasty cough and I seriously doubt he’s taken the medicine I left for him.”

Meeting you at the door, Rachel pulls you in for a big hug, “The smartest mouth in town- that's why I keep you around. Give your father my love and tell him, if he gives you a hard time—I will find out!”

You laugh, hugging her tightly, “The second smartest mouth in town...” You insist, “let’s do the tavern this weekend please. The children have been taking all your time and I miss my best friend!”

“Of course! No pack of tiny ruffians can get between me and a night out.”

You pat her shoulder gently before stepping out of the doorframe, “That’s right.” You smile, thankful to have someone like her in your life, “love you, have a good night.”

“Good night, sleep tight...” She sings, slowly closing the door, “don’t let the Tiger bite!” She laughs wildly before slamming the door shut to prevent your retaliation.

She’s a menace.

The walk back home is pleasant, the fall breeze nips at your skin through your sweater but, it feels refreshing against your flushed cheeks.  

Your parents are asleep by the time you return home.  

It’s common for you to arrive well past their bedtime but, despite your lack of contact, they still manage to make you feel loved.

On the kitchen table sits bowl of stew and freshly baked bread, along with a new blanket for the winter.  

Your mom makes a fresh one everywhere with thicker fabric to combat the icy freeze of the winter climate. The stew will be cold but, your heart will be warm and your stomach will be full.  

In truth, these are the only things that matter to you.  

Living simple certainly has it’s drawbacks but overall, you are comforted by it. Your parents raised you to be thankful for the things you have and to only set your sights on obtaining things that truly matter to you. It doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have goals but, your parents have always stressed that external success can be fickle and, material possessions only take you so far.  

Being content is truly priceless and, you’re thankful they instilled these values into you.

Climbing into bed, you allow your mind to wander to the man you met today.  

You couldn’t quite understand the legend behind him. Not to say that he wasn’t worthy of such folklore but, it’s more so that you didn’t exactly understand the warnings behind it.  

He didn’t seem scary.

Although, it’s possible his demeanor is something he uses along with his beauty.

It could be that the Tiger lives up his animal comparison.

Beautiful and deadly.

Village gossip shouldn’t keep you awake longer than necessary, you think, it’s time to rest up so that tomorrow’s work day doesn’t feel like a never-ending task.  

With the sound of the whistling wind just outside your home, you slowly close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

Your plan for a peaceful nights rest is completely demolished when you feel the frantic hands of your mother shaking you awake.

“Y/N! Wake up! Wake up! Raiders- they are raiders outside, hurry!” She drags the covers off of you, “We have to go!”

In a haphazard blur, you spring to your feet and arm yourself with a few important possessions and your sword.  

Your parents tow behind you as you make your way out of your home.  

The village is in utter chaos; shouting, clanking metal, screaming, amber flames peaking out from above the rooftops.  

You grab your mothers arm, keeping her close to you as you try your best to follow procedures.

Like most smaller villages, your area is equipped with a protocol that will ensure the least amount of damage if there were to be an invasion.

Collect the essentials and gather your loved ones

Arm yourself

Make your way to the town square; there is strength in numbers.

Allow the raiders to take what they want (with the exception of human lives)

Negotiate

Simple in theory but, rarely in practice.

It’s difficult to keep up with a protocol during times of intense stress.

Amidst the chaos, you see Rachel scrambling out of her house, with a bag slung over her shoulder.

You cry out for her, desperately hoping she will hear your voice over the madness,

“Rachel! Over here!”

With wide eyes, she reaches out for your mother’s hand, bowing her head to shield from any possible debris.  

“The army is here, they will protect us.” Your father murmurs solemnly beside you, his face stoic and rid of any bit of positivity

This could end very badly.  

The four of you rush into the town square, trying your best to remain calm throughout the screaming, back up against a wall. Your grip tightens on your mothers hand as you spot the tents of the armed guests currently residing in your village.

The raiders continue their plundering throughout the town accompanied by the sounds of glass breaking and shouting.  

Suddenly, there is a different sound: the clanking of swords. Briefly, you can see glimpses of armor peeking out of homes, the sight causing your eyes to widen.

“Look!”

Rachel and your parents crane their necks to see what you’re pointing out as the sounds coming from within your village begin to change.

Grunting, groaning, more clanking swords and a bit of shouting shoot out of the main street like fireworks.

“Clear the path!” An unfamiliar voice shouts and it’s then you can see what’s going on.

The raiders have been captured thanks to the ominous group of tourists that arrived yesterday.

Oddly enough, you don’t even remember seeing them leave their tents and it makes you wonder how the hell they managed to move so quickly undetected.  

There are several men, dressed in black and gold armor, dragging the raiders by their shirts to the center of town square. One of them is a tall, doe eyed looking man with shaggy brown hair and biceps that could likely snap a neck if they so desired. He has his sword to the back of one of the raiders who scuffles along on his knees to meet with the rest of his captured teammates.  

As the rest of the soldiers file in, another leader of the troop, tall and equally broad, gestures to Bambi with the biceps.

“Jungkook-ah! Bring the leader to the center; let our general deal with him.”

Jungkook does just that, quickly the toe of his boot into the back of the raider and jerking his head to the center of the plaza, “You heard him- move.” He grunts and the raider reluctantly shuffles forward.

Your fellow villagers are reasonably alarmed but, they all seem to freeze in place as they watch the show unravel before them.

This is already more excitement than your village has had in ages and, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t eating it up.

The man who has now been identified as Jungkook, steps away from the raider, still pointing his sword at him, a smug smirk on his face, “You know for a master thief, you were far too easy to catch. Lucky for me, I made a bet with my brothers here that I would catch you in 10 minutes,” Jungkook walks back towards the man, entangling his fingers in the roots of his hair before tugging backwards, “, and according to the clock tower, it only took me 8.”  

Beside you, Rachel seems to swallow back her surprise before subconsciously starting to fan her face,  

“Goodness, he really is something huh?”

Despite the tense nature of the situation, her demeanor makes you giggle,  

“Stop drooling over the calvary...”

She smacks you playfully which causes your father to shush both of you, a moment which reminds you of your schoolyard days.

A bit of immaturity is actually refreshing after the events of this morning.

“Jungkook-ssi,” A voice bellows throughout the plaza, sending a chill down your spine, “What have I told you about placing bets on our captors huh?”

As the voice grows louder, you see him: the Tiger, stepping out from the main street, his long platinum hair flowing freely in the wind. His hand brandishes a sword, one that most certainly possesses the ability to inflict some serious harm.  

Sheepishly, Jungkook smirks, releasing the man’s hair roughly and stepping back to his original spot, his sword posing to strike.

“Sorry hyung, this one was just too easy. I saw him skirting the perimeter last night, I know it would be a sure win once I saw his technique.”

So that’s how the army was able to move so quickly; they already anticipated this attack.

The Tiger chuckles darkly, his eyes alight with pure delight, “Aish- what am I going to do with you people hm?”  

He moves like his name; slow, deliberate, deadly- you know that you’re about to witness an execution and you aren’t sure if you can stomach the sight, even if these raiders deserve it.

Its your turn to swallow back your reaction to him which doesn’t go unnoticed by your best friend standing beside you.

“Now look who’s drooling...” She teases, giggling as you playfully shove your elbow into her side.

The crowd is dangerously still, hanging on each syllable the Tiger speaks whilst his men, six other soldiers roughly his size, watch intently.

The rest of the raider clan are being held captive by the remainder of the fleet, bowing their heads in shame and fear but, the leader seems unaffected by their defeat.

“You lot aren’t men.” The man spits, his accent thick,  “you’re narcissistic little boys who like to play dress up. You’re cowards, hiding behind your swords, killing everything that stands in your way. You have no idea how the other half live. You have no honor.”

There are gasps throughout the crowd then as your village grows shocked at the way he’s spoken to the Tiger.

If you had any hope that this wouldn’t end violently, it’s been squashed by the time the leader finishes his sentence.

The Tiger however, merely chuckles again, a light smirk on his carnation lips,

“It’s odd that a man who earns his keep by stealing from others would have the authority to lecture my men and I about honor.” He kisses his teeth and slowly raises his sword to brush against the man’s cheek, “Look at all these poor people hm? You've terrified them. Your lack of intelligence isn’t their burden to bear now is it? But you have made it their problem; ripped them from their homes, terrorized their children, their livelihoods and, all because you’re too incompetent to learn your own trade.”

The Tiger’s words infuriate him and the next thing you know, he’s lunging off the ground towards the Tiger, a snarl arising on his mouth.

It prompts your hands to fly to your face and your feet to nearly trip over themselves as you brace for the inevitable fight.

But it doesn’t come.  

With one swoop of his arm, the Tiger has the leader knocked to the floor and underneath his leather boot. Jungkook has reacted quickly as well, his arm raising in the air to slice his sword through the man’s body. With one twitch of his hand however, the Tiger stops Jungkook from following through,

“See? You can’t do things like that my friend. Because if you do, my big friend here with the sword will slice your greasy head in two.” The Tiger smirks again, before turning his head over his shoulder, “You folks wouldn’t want to spend the day cleaning blood of your beautiful plaza now would you?”

Overexcited villagers quickly shout various commentary at him,

“Kill him!”

“Cut his head off!”

“Make him pay!”

The Tiger chuckles once more, raising his brows as the man struggles beneath his boot, “Well, I guess you’re lucky they aren’t in charge of your punishment...” He looks up towards the remainder of his fleet, nodding his head at the other prisoners, “Namjoon, Jin: ensure that none of these men are here against their will. If the rest of you are here by choice, I suggest you make yourselves disappear into the forest before I allow these fine people to get ahold of you.”

Immediately, the Tiger’s fleet begin following his orders and take the men away towards their tents. As they walk out of the plaza, only Jungkook, the Tiger and the clan leader remain.  

You notice Jungkook scan the crowd then, peering out at the eager faces watching the show he is willingly apart of. Very briefly but noticeably, his eyes land on your best friend and as they do, they seem to linger.

He looks curious, almost boyish in a way as his ways seem to memorize her face but before Rachel even realizes what’s going on, his eyes quickly return to the raider.  

“If you’re going to kill me, just do it. Don’t be a coward, I can’t listen to you ramble any longer.” The man growls which prompts the Tiger to push his foot down a little harder upon his back.

“I’m not your executioner, thief. Your fate resides with the Queens.” He explains, matter of factly before jerking his head towards Jungkook, “Put him in the portable cell. I’ll send a notice to the council that we have a criminal that needs to be dealt with.”

Jungkook nods, eagerly crossing the bit of plaza and kneeling down to restrain the man with handcuffs.

He grips the chain linking them and heaves him upwards so he’s standing between the two men.  

“I’ll hose him off first,” Jungkook wrinkles his nose in disgust, “I don’t want him stinking up our camp.”

“Fuck you-” The man spits, jerking his wrists in Jungkook’s grip which then causes the Tiger to raise his sword once again.

“Behave yourself, thief.” He commands, his eyes darkening for the first time, “I’m assuming if you’ve heard stories of my fleet, you are privy to the fact that we don’t miss our target. Please don’t give me a reason to live up to my name.”

With that, the two men drag off the clan leader towards the rest of their fleet, not bothering to look back at the dozens of people they just saved.

They ignore the applause, the gratitude, the pleas for them to return and feast.

You have to admit that you’re shocked.  

The supposedly wicked and ruthless Tiger sure seems to have quite a bit of restraint and diplomacy.

“Did he- did he really just let him go? Unharmed?”

Rachel asks a very good question and it seems to be the one on your parents minds as well.

“It’s extremely odd. I was fully prepared to witness an execution, he would have been within his right.” Your father notes, his eyes still trained on the center of the plaza.

Generals have a certain level of freedom with the prisoners they choose to capture; they are expected to have good judgement and carry out punishments if necessary.

In essence, the Tiger had every bit of authority to end that mans life and, given that he an eager crowd behind him, it genuinely perplexes you.

“Organized raids come with an automatic life sentence, the leaders are usually executed within a few days of their trial.” Your mother notes and it’s then that Rachel notices your silence.

“Well I think it’s safe to say that you didn’t make it on his hit list. You can’t be worse than a lead raider...” She grins, knowing full well that your confusion also comes with an annoying amount of curiosity.  

She also knows that you plan on finding a way to speak with him again.  

And she is absolutely right.

--------------------------

“Should I say hi to Jungkook for you? Ask if he’s betrothed?” You tease and Rachel promptly throws balled up dress your way.

You went to her house after the excitement in the town square to bake a batch of fresh bread for the Tiger’s fleet.

Bread is increasingly hard to come by these days due to a crop shortage in the northern region so despite what people may think, most military diets consist of salted meat and corn.  

Doughy, fluffy, cheesy, rosemary bread is a luxury.

“I have a feeling you’ll be preoccupied with your mission to court the Tiger.” She retorts but a deep frown comes over her then, as she wraps the last loaf in parchment paper, “Are you sure you should be doing this? Waltzing over to a tent full of dangerous soldiers doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“I want to thank them.” You insist, loading your basket with the rest of the loaves, glancing up at your worried friend, “All the village ever talks about is how ruthless they are, how cruel they are known to be but, the reality is: they saved us. It must be frustrating to refuel just as any other fleet would and have people gossip about you or fear you unnecessarily. I’m not planning on staying for tea or anything, I just want to show my appreciation.”

Rachel raises her brows, “That’s all hm?”

You nod, “Yep.” Your lips pop with the sound of the p and Rachel remains unconvinced.

“This has nothing to do with the Tiger?”

“Of course not.” Your answer tumbles past your lips far too quickly and, it causes your friend to grin knowingly at you.

“I know that look-”

“Ugh what look?”

“The look. That one-” She points at you, “You’re about to do something you know you shouldn’t.”

Her smile is far too contagious and her knowledge of you surpasses anyone you’ve ever known in your life.  

She has your number and there really is no point in lying to her.

“Fine, ok maybe it has a little something to do with the Tiger-” You smirk, trying to stifle the giggle that threatens your disposition, “Don’t laugh at me!”

Rachel’s twinkling laughter fills the room as she rounds the counter. Placing her hands on your shoulders, she smiles fondly at you, “Just be careful ok? I know he intrigues you and honestly I’m not at all surprised but, don’t let your curiosity get in the way of your safety. That’s the most important thing.”  

“I won’t.” You promise, smiling back at her, placing your hands on hers, “I promise, I’ll be careful.”

Rachel helps you out once again, insuring you have everything you need before her soft voice is answering a question you asked moments earlier.

“And uh about that Jungkook boy-”

You smirk, “He’s definitely not a boy, did you see his muscles? He looks like he could bench press a mountain lion.”

She grows flustered, “No, I didn’t see any muscles, I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“Oh so you also didn’t notice him staring at you in the plaza today right?”

Rachel’s eyes widen, “Wait he was?” She clears her throat, amending her eagerness as you giggle, “He definitely wasn’t staring at me don’t be ridiculous. What I was going to say-”

“What you were going to say is that ‘no Y/N, I don’t want you to check on Jungkook’s marital status directly but, should you happen to come across his left hand, let me know whether or not you see a shiny band around his finger, not that I would care or anything. Because, I totally don’t have the hots for him.’ “

Her mouth opens and then closes like a fish before she playfully nudges you through her doorway, “Shut up.”

With a laugh and a few parting words, you are off to visit the tent of your village's heroes.  

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous.

But you’d also be lying if you said you were nervous for the right reasons.

The concept of walking into the basecamp of a supposedly elite and ruthless fleet is one thing but, talking to someone you find attractive?  

Absolutely terrifying.

Your presence is immediately noted by the men inside the camp.

Two of them are seated at a table outside of one of the tents, hands and teeth full of meat, their motions freezing in place as they see you.

As you pass by one of their horses, you notice of them is speaking with a group of raiders.  

The conversation seems amicable, suggesting that many of the raider clan was indeed in your village against their will.

You approach the main but, before you are able to make ring the bell on the outside, you are crashing chest first into a very firm and very broad chest.

“Holy-” The voice sounds familiar and as you look up, you are meet with the bambi with biceps himself: Jungkook.

“Hello I-” You attempt to begin but his panicked voice interrupts you.

“Yah hyung??? Uh there’s a-” He swallows thickly stepping away from you, “There’s a girl here!”

The word seems foreign on his tongue and his behavior genuinely surprises you.

Where was the cocky warrior from this morning, brandishing a sword and placing bets on his captors?

“Jungkook, for the last time- we don’t use that word. We say young lady or woman...” Another voice, one you don’t recognize fades into your scope of hearing before pushing open the fabric of the tent. He is arguably just as beautiful as the other men, tall, dark haired, buff- as if he would be anything else.

“Oh, hello. Are you...” The man narrows his brows as he looks towards the group of raiders speaking with one of his counterparts, “Are you with the group or?”

You shake your head, your basket swinging when you turn back towards the village, “Oh no, no I’m from the village. My name is Y/N Y/L/N...” You bow your head slightly, “I came here to bring you this,” You gesture to the basket, “It’s fresh bread. I wanted to thank you for saving my people today.”

You feel the need to rush out your explanation as the rest of the fleet continues to stare at you. In fact, the way they are looking at you is rather unnerving.

It isn’t disrespectful just intrusive; they are looking at you as if you’ve sprouted a second head.

“You-” The man before you cocks his head, looking befuddled, “You came here to- thank us?”

“Well yes, I know bread is hard to come by and I figured you could use a pick-me-up after your fight this morning.”

He smiles now but his incredulity doesn’t change as he takes the basket from your hands, “It’s warm.” He notes, “Did you bake this recently?”

“Yes I baked it today, just now actually uh-” You decide to speak candidly now since the possible threat margin seems to be closing, “You look confused.”

Jungkook is practically hiding behind the man you’re addressing and it takes a large part of you not to laugh at his behavior.

“Forgive me.” He chuckles, “We aren’t exactly used to hospitality. Most villagers avoid us like the plague, it probably has to do with our General but regardless.” He bows his head, “We appreciate the gesture. I’ll make sure to pass along your gratitude to him once he returns.”  

“Oh is he not here? I was hoping to thank him myself.” You try and mask the disappointment in your tone, not wishing to come across as stranger than you already did.

The man shakes his head, “No. He often takes a walk after an invasion; gotta make sure the perimeter is secure.” He smiles and you are taken aback by how white his teeth were, “My name is Seokjin, I’m the outreach expert on the fleet and unofficial chef. I promise your bread will be put to good use, it’s been months since we’ve had any decent carbs.”  

His comment makes you smile and you are delighted that his demeanor is so welcoming.

“I’m sorry to heart that. Will you be in town long? I can try to set you up with a few more baskets before your departure?”

Seokjin chuckles warmly before snorting as Jungkook paws at the basket, “Easy.” He admonishes but its too late, Jungkook already has half a loaf down in his mouth, his chest rumbling with the sound of his groan.  

“Oh my god hyung, it’s so good...”

Seokjin looks disgusted with him but hands him the basket anyway, nodding to the rest of the fleet, “Share. Make sure you save a loaf for Yoongi and I.”

Jungkook happily obliges but not before turning towards you and bowing, “Uh thanks for the- for the bread....”

His sentence is choppy and over before it even begins as he goes bounding off in the direction of his team.

“Pardon him, he’s been in the army since he was fourteen. We haven’t done an amazing job at socializing him but, he’s getting better. He’s still a bit antsy around women though.” Seokjin chuckles, fondness in his eyes, “Ah but to answer your question, yes. We've decided to set up here for a few weeks to train our new recruits. I would love to more of this bread if it’s not too much trouble.”

You smile, waving him off, attempting to conceal your happiness at the news he’s just delivered, “Nonsense, I’d be happy to bake some more.”

“Excellent!” He chirps, clasping his hands together, “I’m sure Yoongi would be happy to know we’ve finally manage to contact with a villager. It’s been an issue for us, stories spread like wildfire you know? And just like wildfire, they tend to do more harm than good.”

“And Yoongi is?”

Seokjin chuckles, “Ah I believe you’d know him better as...” He flutters his fingers dramatically, “ the Tiger.”

Yoongi.

So that was his name.

“Oh yes,” You amend, “I’ve certainly heard of him but, I prefer to make my own judgements rather than succumb to the gossip.”

He smirks, “That’s very noble of you Y/N. I for one,” He places a hand on his chest, throwing a wink your way, “, live for the gossip.”

Your meeting with Seokjin ends soon after that with a promise that you would return with more bread.  

As much as you wanted to rush back to Rachel’s house to inform of your meeting with the ‘most dangerous fleet in the world’, you remind yourself that school is in session; a necessary but annoying inconvenience.

However, there are plenty of ways you plan on keeping busy for the remainder of the day and one of them involves visiting the river to collect more herbs for your remedies.  

You obviously weren't able to sell your wares today as the marketplace was still littered with evidence of the robbery.  Your parents had insisted you take the day off to restock and recuperate whilst they helped the village leaders clean up.

Reluctantly, you agreed and you are now very grateful that you had.

The river has always been one of your favorite places. It was rich, green, buzzing with life and, always a few degrees colder than your village. Surrounded by mossy trees that seem to stretch as high as the clouds, the river is encased with life. Rabbits, squirrels, tortoises, frogs and a plethora of birds all coral in the area the river resides in whilst bears, big cats, wolves and monkeys hide behind the dense forest. It’s any apothecary’s paradise as it is also the residence of any herbs capable of growing in damp areas.  

Angelica, Blue Vervain, Marshmallow, Stinging Needle and more: the river is your one stop shop for so many of your essential ingredients.

Today you’re after a particular herb though and armed with another woven basket, you make your way towards the large bushels of it growing at the base of a tree trunk.

Valerian is an essential herb in your arsenal and due to its popularity, it’s something you’re consistently having to restock.  

Gathering it carefully, ensuring you don’t disturb the root of the plant.

You are so enthralled with your current task that you don’t even notice that you are no longer alone.

“Is this where the tree bark grows?”

You jump nearly six feet out of your skin, whipping your head around to face your intruder.

Standing before you is the myth himself, the Tiger or as you’ve recently learned: Yoongi.

He’s still in his armor from earlier, his long tendrils pulled back away from his face into a low ponytail. Between his lips, which are curving slightly, is a piece of the bark he had taken from your cart the day prior.

He is chewing it as you instructed.

“You of all people should know not to ambush someone like that...” You breath, placing a hand on your chest, “I could have wacked you with this basket or something.”

He just smirks, “I’ve had worse.” He notes, taking the bark from between his teeth, “I’m sorry I frightened you though, I didn’t expect to see anyone here.”

“Likewise.” You retort, nodding your head at the bark, “Is it helping?”

He shrugs, “Too early to tell I suppose but, it’s tending to my oral fixation so, either way it has a purpose.”

You straighten up a bit more and smooth out your dress, “It will work, it just takes a bit of time.” You assure him before adjusting the herbs in your basket, “I came by your tent earlier to offer my thanks for what you and your men did today, your outreach coordinator Seokjin told me he’d pass along the message but-”

“You did what?”

His tone doesn’t entirely lean one way or the other and you quickly grow worried that you offended him.

“I brought a basket of bread to uh-” You swallow thickly, meeting the intensity of his gaze, “to your camp as a thank you for saving my village.”

Several emotions flicker across his face before he settles on surprise, “I see. Were they polite?”

You can’t help but smile, this day truly has been full of surprises and, Yoongi’s demeanor is only adding to that list.  

“I only had the privilege of meeting Seokjin and well- I kind of met Jungkook but, he seemed a little-”

“Awkward?” Yoongi smirks

“A little.” You amend, “But both of them were very polite. They explained that they often don’t receive any hospitality on stops like this; I was very sorry to hear that.”

Yoongi’s teeth seem to catch the inside of his cheek as he nods curtly, “There’s no need for apologies. Hospitality is welcome but, never expected. I try to teach my men that we should never expect gratitude for what we do as it so often comes with a price.”

“I suppose gratitude should be offered situationally then, there was very little draw back to what you did today. Our village is privy to raiders; maybe if word gets around that you all were in town, that might prevent this from happening again.”

He purses his lips before nodding in consideration, “I see you’re point. Regardless of its necessity, gratitude is always welcome: especially when free food is involved.”

His comment makes you giggle and your laughter makes his lips itch in a way they never have.

“I wholeheartedly agree with that. I get a surprising amount of baked goods sent my way doing what I do so, I’ll have no problem dolling out the gratitude while you all are here.”  

Yoongi’s brows knit in confusion, “Do you people often pay you in baked goods?”

Laughter flows freely out of your mouth then and you shake your head at his question, “Definitely not, I sell my goods for currency as does any obedient member of society,” At this Yoongi smirks again, he likes your wit, a lot, “but I do receive muffin baskets, cakes, pies and whatnot from happy customers. They’re mainly from women whose husbands have taken my ginseng remedy.”

His curiosity blooms, “And why is that?”

You feel a bit of heat rushing to your cheeks, “Ginseng enhances uh- drive, often times it can be used a stimulant to promote you know-” You’re hoping Yoongi will put the pieces together but instead his eyes remain expectant, “passion.”

The word makes Yoongi straighten up a bit and in an effort to look casual, he nods quickly and hums a little too loudly.

“Ah yes. Of course. Well, as I said- free food is free food right?” He wagers, his fingers rubbing at the bit of bark.

Its your turn to smirk now but, you quickly change the subject when you ask, “Is the leader of the clan secure? I didn’t see him when I passed through your camp.”

He clears his throat, bringing the bark back towards his mouth, “He is. I have him locked up just behind the trees so he isn’t able to influence the new recruits. He had an alarming number of unwilling participants within his group, many of them claimed to be brought there with the threat of physical harm.”

You kiss your teeth and shake your head, “I don’t understand that kind of behavior. I understand that sometimes desperate people do desperate things but, to exert power or harm over another person without a viable cause...it just makes no sense to me.”

He’s intrigued now and as he brings the bark back to his lips, his brow knit with curiosity, “Hm. So do you think there is a justification to steal but not to commit violence?”

You can’t figure out why your opinion would matter to him but, you sure as hell aren’t going to question the length of this conversation.

“I think that some people believe they have no other choice but to steal. Wealth and power aren’t possible without a poor man to stand on, to oppress- I don’t support the idea of taking what doesn’t belong to you but, I could see why people are driven to do so. People are growing tired of being the poor man. Senseless violence isn’t something I could find a justification for. What the raiders often do, is both so I guess-” You hesitate, “I’m conflicted.”

Yoongi is captivated by your explanations, not because they are particularly ground breaking but, because they are particularly human. You aren’t afraid to discuss the complexity of life nor are you afraid to admit when certain things confound you.

“That’s a fair assessment. Do you agree with today’s outcome?”

Your smile returns, as you adjust the basket on your arm again, “I did. Especially because it seemed to surprise everyone, myself included.”

His lips return to his smirk, “Why? Because I didn’t behead him?”

“Exactly.” You breathe out a laugh before continuing,  “I for one was shocked to see you deal with the situation without your trusty viper...”  

His face turns to one of incredulity, “Oh my- you're not serious are you? Do people genuinely think I keep a viper on me at all times? Do they have any idea how unpractical that is?”

Yoongi’s reaction sends you into a fit of giggles and the sound makes his lips itch again.

He decides he enjoys the sound very much.

“I’m sure you’ve set a few people straight after this morning,” You offer, wiping a bit of moisture from the corner of your eye, “I doubt the rumors will repopulate the same way after you leave.”

“What do you think of them?”

“The rumors?”

“They’re entertaining.” You shrug, “But I don’t like to make assumptions about people unless I’ve met them, not even scary and supposedly cruel generals like yourself.”

The ghost of a smile shows itself on Yoongi’s mouth and his eyes seem to glimmer, pleased with your answer.

“I wish more people had that mindset.”  

It’s all he says before promptly dropping the subject again, nodding in the direction behind him, “I should probably head back to camp. I have a feeling that the longer I am away, the smaller my chances of getting any of that bread become.”

“You’re probably right, I have to be back before sunset anyway.” Your parents don’t like it when you’re out at the river after dark, “It was very nice meeting you Yoongi. I hope you enjoy the bread.”

His lips as he realizes something vital, “I’m sure I will. Forgive me, I don’t remember catching your name...”

At his observation, you extend your hand towards his, “Oh of course, my name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Without looking down, he grasps your hand gently as if he were afraid to break it, “Y/N- I’ll remember it.” He promises unnecessarily but it still sends a flutter through your heart, “Get home safe.”

When he releases your hand, you step back towards the bushel of Valerian before smiling once more,  

“You too.”

As Yoongi departs from the river, he smirks to himself.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be the routine stop he had planned on.

Perhaps this would be so much more.

[letsdiscoverkitty]

"Life" Update - May 2021

This is the last of the three updates I have to post at the moment. If anyone actually reads these, especially in one go, you really do deserve a medal and I have no idea what I have done to deserve your kindness and support but THANK YOU SO MUCH (to all of you who are here, you are all truly wonderful and amazing) Okay, let's get going....

I suppose the title is a bit, well, overkill. To say that anyone has been had any sort of "life" over the past year would be a huge misuse of the word. The global pandemic has, quite literally, turned life upside down for the vast majority of people and I know that lockdowns, especially in the UK, have meant that anything other than what was deemed "essential" has been off the cards, which has hit us all hard.

I personally found it quite difficult whilst I was in hospital as although on the one hand it was good to know that there wasn't much that you were missing out on whilst locked on a ward with 15 minutes fresh air (if you were lucky), it did make it hard to find/hold onto motivation at times. Coupled with the fear of how my dad's condition would progress, whether he would make it and what sort of home life I would be going back to; the world suddenly felt even noisier than it had before (which I didn't think was really possible). The situation seemed to further heighten my fears as well as add to them. I found my mind was swamped with so many questions and fears, to then be asked about my future/what I wanted to do with my life (that classic question) and what my motivations were to get better, was too much. I fell blank.

I had completely lost myself and any shed of hope that was left inside of me. I tried to put on a smile; paint a different picture to the outside world but inside I was dark. I was hollow. I was empty.

What was the point? You never know what is waiting around the corner; everything can turn upside down overnight. What kind of 'life' would there be going back to anyway? Would it be possible to go to University anymore or would there still be multiple restrictions in place? would that make the huge financial costs worth it? What sort of society will we be coming out of the pandemic anyway? Will we even come out of this? Will people ever go back to offices again? Will we be able to see friends soon or go out to places? What about travelling? Fun? LIFE?

I found depression swamped me more than ever after dad's accident. I was trying to hold myself together for mum but I was losing all hope of anything ever being 'the same' or 'okay' again. In the end, the only reason I accepted the admission was for mum - I wanted to be able to support her with dad in hospital and us not know what the future held; as much as I wished I could be there all the time, I knew in the state I was that I couldn't. Initially I was told the admission would be a short one, that I could then go back home to support my mum through the family trauma...but that 4 weeks soon turned into over 8 months, which I still can't believe.

Gosh, I am sorry, I seem to have got a little distracted. This was meant to be the POSITIVE update. So let's get to those bits...

NEWS ONE: I HAVE A JOB (starting in Sept)

So whilst in hospital my consultant kept trying to get me to think about what I wanted to do with my life (just the small questions you know *lol*) - in her eyes she thought it would be risky to go back to University to do neuroscience/a degree so intense, and that instead I should think about doing something more creative, taking small steps to get a part time job and then go from there - which, as much as I hated to admit, I agreed with. However after one particularly bad run-in with the nutritionist when she decided to tell me that she didn't think I could achieve a life beyond Anorexia (it must have been mid-way-ish through my admission) blah blah blah (I get that she could have been trying to motivate me but there is a way to go about it and then there are ways to really not go about it and she chose the latter). Anyway, I was rather angry/mad and ended up doing basically trying to prove everyone wrong and started doing some research into my different options...

Long story short: I ended up applying to a degree apprenticeship scheme in business management...I've never really considered something like this before, perhaps partially because at school they drilled into me that business was a "soft" subject as it would not be looked upon very highly for Oxbridge applications *rolls eyes*. Thankfully I did a lot of research into Degree Apprenticeships a few years ago so I knew where to look online. Anyway, back to this application. I ended up going through the process/tests, somehow managing to make it through the initial online stages, then just before I was discharged I was invited to a online interview!

I only had a few days to do the interview before it timed out so I actually ended up doing it In the end the day after I was discharged (not ideal) and I was convinced that I had messed it up as it was one of those ones where you get shown the question for around 30 seconds before being given 2 minutes to respond - i.e. stress.pressure.anxiety.stumbling over words. HORRENDOUS.

I somehow passed the interview and the reviews before being invited to an online assessment centre in Feb, which spanned a whole day and included multiple interviews (the first was a strengths based interview with 2 interviewers for just over an hour - yuck!!!) as well as a presentation which we were given 24hrs in advance to prepare for (we were given 4 'topics'/questions and had to answer all of them in a 15 minute window using aids if we chose to, again to 2 (different) interviewers before having a 45 minute further interview - double yuck!)

Dare I say that I actually enjoyed the preparation for the presentation and the interviews?! It was so nice to have a focus and something to be working on that I was actually really beginning to connect with/want/see myself doing. The interviews and presentation themselves? HORRIBLE but the process reignited something within me. After the assessment centre day we were told it could be 7-10 working days to hear back from them - waiting for anything like this is just the worst so I wasn't looking forward to it and tried not to get my hopes up as these schemes are ridiculously hard to get into... Well, I got the call the next day saying that they were so impressed and out of something like 14,000 applications, I was offered one of the spaces on the scheme!! - I honestly still can't believe it and imposter syndrome is v real -

I know at the beginning of this I sounded very blase about the whole thing but as I progressed through the process, as I read more about the scheme and the business and what it would entail, the more I began to get excited. The more I realised how interesting it was and what an amazing opportunity it would be for me.

Despite this, I was also at the time, finishing up yet another an application to University (for the millionth time, I swear I must be a pro at these personal statements by now) this time for psychology and behavioural studies. This was before I got the offer of the degree apprenticeship scheme, which I knew was a long shot with only a handful of places given for thousands of applicants, so I felt I had to keep my options open (Neuro is still an area of fascination to me but not so much with the INTENSE LEVEL of physiology and pharmacology that I was doing at Bristol. Yes bits of it were good and interesting but that degree was ridiculous and, again, I felt far more drawn towards the behavioural studies and psychology when researching into Universities). I ended up getting 3 offers, 1 interview for Cambridge and 1 rejection (ironically from Bristol, even with my recommendation/support being from my previous personal tutor at Bristol!) - so I suddenly had options. And then the offer from the degree apprenticeship came through and there were even more options to choose from.

It honestly felt so surreal (and still does).

In the end, after a lot of thinking and debating and researching and talking, I decided to withdraw my University application and I accepted the degree apprenticeship role. Overall it is such an incredible opportunity that I knew I couldn't turn down, whereas University will always be there. I am actually getting a little excited about it (as well as extremely nervous, but I must say that the company has made a really positive/good impression thus far, even as far as creating MH podcasts with a psychologist for us and offering things like zoom baking sessions!).

So what is this degree apprenticeship? In short, it is a 3 year course during which I will have a Monday to Friday job at the company (for which the office is actually commutable from home - it is about 1hrs drive, which is not the best but it does mean that I can stay at home for at least the first year and there is a train I could get if I was too tired to do the drive all the time. As much as staying at home is not my long term plan it might help with the transition back to work/education to have a bit of stability and the support). During the first 2 years at the company we do four separate 6 month rotations in different areas to get lots of experience (marketing, supply chain, sales etc) whilst in the final year you get to put in a preference for where you would like to work for the year long placement. During this, every 6 or 7 weeks, we have to spend a week at University (which is not in commutable distance at all so the the company pays for our accommodation, travel and food during this time). As far as I have been told, we also get time during the working week allocated to do Uni work as well as our standard 'desk' jobs. Oh and not to mention one of the biggest sellers for degree apprenticeships....the company is basically sponsoring you so pays ALL of your tuition fees PLUS a basic salary! This means that you come out, in this case, with a Chartered business management degree, 3 years of hands-on work experience, as well as you being pretty much guaranteed a job within the company AND no student debt!!! How incredible is that? PLUS one big perk of the job is that they allow dogs in the office - I mean how could I say no to that?!!!!

So yes, by some magical miracle I actually have a job lined up for September! It still doesn't feel real and I am yet to fully process it. They don't know how it will be affected by COVID but the company did continue the programme last year (unlike some that postponed) so fingers crossed all should be going ahead. I have 'met' the other 4(?) who are on the scheme at my office as well and they seem lovely (including one other person who is my age/slightly older - which was such a relief as I was worried about it being only people just out of college).

I realise that it is going to be tough, I do not underestimate that at all, but I couldn't let anorexia still yet ANOTHER life milestone and opportunity away from me. There was a lot of questioning as to whether I should take it or not; I went back and forth between many spreadsheets that I made but I think this opportunity far outweighs going back to University. I have tried that route twice already and had to leave because of everything/haven't really coped (I think in some ways, being at Uni there is TOO MUCH free time and it allowed my perfectionism to run riot as I always felt like I was 'behind' in one way or another?). And that is not to mention that if I was going back to University, I would need to spend another 3-4 years studying, I would leave with little work experience or job in mind at the age of 29/30 with a mountain of debt.... And as I said before, I can always go back to University if I want to in the future/re train if I decide to, but this opportunity with a global company, well, this will never ever come my way again.

So yes that is my BIG BIG news. But I also have one more bit of news....

I'm getting a kitten. Yes, A KITTEN!!!!! I have so much more to say on this but for now you will have to wait and see. Photos will come when SHE does (a couple of weeks now)!!!

[franki-lew-yo]

I really hate 2d purists. No, not 2d animation. Not 2d animators.

2d purists.

The sad thing is it’s gotten to the point that I really cringe hearing any pro-2D sentiment at all. I hate the arguments I agree with because how often they're misused and weaponized by idiots.

Let me make my stance here clear - 2d is NOT appreciated and 3d is used for everything! The layman Karen-mom who doesn’t have an artistic bone in her body looks at stupidsmooth 3D Grubhub ads and assumes quality cause it “looks more real” (aka ‘rendered’). I know as much is true because I literally have a member of my family who told my sister and I that she thinks 3d is better (and also that she “tolerated THOSE movies for us kids”. Touching words. My sister was taking an animation course by the way). Combined that with the studios either using 2D for cheap stuff or finding good 2d animation too “costly”, I get it and I’m not even any animator. I'm just a worm an illustrator.

but holy HELL -

There’s a backlash from the artistic community that's it's own kind of insufferable and deserve to be addressed.

“(insert2Danimatedfilm) is better BECAUSE it's 2D!”

followed by: "Animation is a visual medium and the quality of the art affects how much the story means !!!!”  

Yes. Totally. Animation is a visual medium and the look and style is important. Sadly, people use this excuse to really obnoxious ends, insisting that design being pretty is '' everything ''. When you treat a movie more as a special effects demo I get why you talk about the artistry at hand; but I’m sorry, visuals are not the only thing important and it’s why I’m also getting sick of the sameElsafacesyndrome rants too! There’s this attitude that's reads as "but it LOOKS better fromaproductionimage/teasertrailerwhichapparentlyisindicativeof all themovieactuallyis so it MUST BE better".

-“3D should only be used to make things look realistic!”

I think I know the logic this criticism is made in response to, and that’s the Sony + Illumination films which look just as good in 2D as they do in three dimensions. I know it feels like people are twisting this medium to try and make it like a classic cartoon when by all means people can and would love a classic cartoon being a classic cartoon. That I get- From the unsung 2D animator’s perspective, that’s more than valid !

But it’s a huuuuuuge slap in the face to 3d in saying it should only be used for "realistic animation" because

1: It’s not like realistic animation could age badly or look uncanny in the next few years. It's almost like technology is constantly improving, which I guess 2d animation never did and it was always the same technique and quality as every film that came after it.

2: The industry does treat 3d as a magic-moneymaker for this reason. Just listen to these people call the 2019 LION KING “live action” as if they’re embarrassed to call it animation. It IS animation! It would be impressive if you acknowledged that what it is, but like the CATS, you basically are treating it as just a neato tool to better your live action and not it's own artform - which it is!

3: By this “three-deeonly gud when real liek in da toystories” non-logic I guess 2d should ONLY be for flowyflowy SPACE JAM cartoons and maybe some Disney*. Just that though. You can’t do anything more with 2d. It’s never supposed to be realistic I guess. Good thing Richard Williams only did 'toons' and just toons that’s why we need 3d in the world I guess.

Wait no - that’s stupid.

"I HAVE to see the “Land Before Time 14″ when it comes out! I mean it’s a 2D animated film!"

Lost in the aether that is Youtube comment chains removed from kid's videos is a stream of this very VERY stupid argument supporting the buying of the 14th LAND BEFORE TIME film because it’s supporting 2D. My sister and I can be found on that chain arguing against this stupidity. All you have is my word, but trust me: it really did happen.

I’m sorry but...no.

Unless you have a friend or a family member who worked on these movies there’s no reason to see this and ESPECIALLY no reason to insist it’s a win for the 2D community if you buy up this crap - and I'm not judging if you do like it, but come on! LAND BEFORE TIME 14 isn't where your money should go if you really like this medium.

What’s so infuriating about this argument is you can tell it’s made by nonanimators. Real animators will tell you to support their movies cause they want some respect for their artform which is why there’s such a push from the PRINCESS AND THE FROGcrowd that you SEE and LOVE every 2d thing out there, regardless of how good it is because any recognition for it is k i n d o f what they're after!

Kiddy sequel schlock isn’t even in the same ballpark as KLAUS or WOLFWALKERS; these films DID have very limited theatrical runs (Klaus so it could be nominated; Wolfwalkers in places where theaters opened up after Covid) and should have been supported because they were labors of love made by people who love animation.

As other people have already pointed out, one of the reasons for the lack of interest in 2000sera2D animation is that the only films released alongside critical+financial 3D hits were cheaper 2D films that either coincided with daytime tv shows or should have been just direct-to-video. It’s not to say art couldn’t come out of these flicks, but dayum if it wasn’t abused as much as the texture software that era's CG used... Point being, should the world ever go back to normal: If you hear about an out-of-town showing an acclaimed 2D animated film, make time to trek out and see THAT!

Don’t give your money to see yet another made-for-tv movie on the big screen because all that tells the studio is: “yeah 2d IS cheap and only good for cheap stuff let’s just keep it cheap. Only 3d is important 8D 8D 8D !!!"

“I don’t understand how it works. So it sucks.”

This text is from an ANIMATOR btw.

“I don’t understand how it works” and “it’s just some computer rendering” is the exact same wave of logic the people who prefer cgi use.

The plebian Karen I mentioned earlier? She understands the basics of 2D animation as much as you did from one of those cruddy flash classes you took in middle-school. She 'understands' the basics cuz she watched how it was made on the DVD features or maybe back on the WONDERFUL WORLD OF DISNEY. To her, the illusion is broken and she’s not impressed by 'just some drawings on paper'. You, an animator, know the process is more complicated and is intrigued by knowing how it’s made - not bored or disinterested -

Neither you nor Aunt Karen have really good cg-animation software at your house and unless you ARE a 3D animator you probably DON’T know all the ins-and-outs of how these movies are modeled, rendered, and animated.

Aunt Karen is bedazzled by them cause she doesn’t know how it works and the technical aspect makes her brain hurt so it might as well be magic and she can feel like a cool kid sharing Minion-memes. Aunt Karen is the nonartistic type who just wants to feel safe. You're not. You want to feel challenged.

I get it: you’re pissed off cause you’re in a field no one, including Aunt Karen, appreciates; told to work in cg which it's an artform you didn’t devote your life to and told to learn it cause THIS style sells! 3D is everywhere and is starting to look like 'garbage' even if you don’t animate 3D models yourself you just KNOW, I guess. Besides, you know all there is to know about 2d!! You know all there is to possibly know about this artform and have to fight this 'war' against "r e a l" animation! And I mean even when 3d software is there to use, it's not like you can actually make anything worth while in it, especially not anything that transcends the medium. Right Worthikids?

TL;DR: This argument is basically just " BWAAAAH I’M NOT GONNA USE IT I HAVE STANDARDS (a chip on my shoulder cuz art should be what I deem it to be) "

“PRINCESS AND THE FROG is-”

There’s a reason I can’t say I truly like PRINCESS AND THE FROG even though it's not even a bad movie! Like, stop reading this and watch PATF if you haven't it's good. It's my 'FROZEN', in that; I see a lot of potential in it I just think it needs some serious rewriting and that bugs me. Always have felt that way, tbh.

I dislike this movie because the response from the animation community seems to be it was perfect and the Academy was just Pixar-crazy with UP ((ftr, the Academy IS Pixar’s bitch and I personally advocate a sequel be made to WAKING SLEEPING BEAUTY about Mike Eisner’s sabotage of the 2D department at Disney which is still in place now!- but that’s a story for another day)). I’m sorry but UP was just a better story. So was CORALINE. So was FANTASTIC MR. FOX. Honest to god it feels like poor PATF is brought up as just a talking point and never for it's own worth as a labor of love - which it was! I'd like to honestly know: had PRINCESS AND THE FROG come out now and been cg if it would have even half the defenders for it because now it doesn't "look" like how a Disney movie "should" look...

If you like PatF more than the currant Disney lineup because of it's culture, it's music, it's feminism, it's black representation? Awesome. Great. Those things should be appreciated and I never want that taken away from you. But if you seriously think PatF is better just for how it was animated and looks - I lowkey may hate you.

“ALL OF DISNEY’S LATEST MOVIES SHOULD HAVE BEEN 2D! THEY ALL LOOK AWFUL IN 3D!! ALL OF THEM!”

TANGLED, FROZEN, and MOANA? Yeah. Sure. But um, e x c u s e y o u- WRECK IT RALPH sooooo doesn’t work in 2d! It could have used different between the various worlds but it’s about hopping through different video games. I’m also of the opinion that ZOOTOPIA and BIG HERO 6 are fine the way they are. Their 3d is awesome.

The latest fairy tale Disney films are really big on their place alongside the 2D canon esp in marketing. They keep trying to mimic 2D to varying results though I don't think it works as well as the movie's I'd previously mentioned. Me personally, I would love a mix of 3D and 2D technology, like if the backgrounds in FROZEN still got to be 3D but the characters were handdrawn and shaded ala KLAUS ((sweet sigh)). But even then are they truly unwatchable just based on how they're animated to you?

MOANA would have been incredible in 2D but for the record - I don't think it feels out of place in it's style. It reminds me more of a Pixar movie with the heart of a Disney classic which is it's own just as good.

“2D is the oldest form of animation and it’s being replaced.”

Actually, if we’re talking animation in film, stop motion is the earliest form of animation. The stop motion animated THE ADVENTURES OF PRINCE ACHMED and TALE OF THE FOX predate Disney’s SNOW WHITE. And yes: stop-motion IS still a form of animation even if it’s a serious of pictures taken of real life things and not drawings, so don’t you dare come at me with the "but that's not animated"/"Technically it’s LIVE ACTION" crap or I’ll envoke the spirit of Sandman to get you at night.

“Every animated film would look better in 2D! Even PIXAR would look better in 2D!”

Again, Stop Motion.

No, I mean it.

Lemme ask: Would ISLE OF DOGS or FANTASTIC MR. FOX carry any of the same effect if they were generic 90s toons? I know NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS wouldn’t. Christ, don’t even get me started on Svankmajer!

Sometimes the problem is that a movie is envisioned with a specific artform in mind. Pixar started out with toys and bugs for a reason and that’s cuz they were always gonna be a 3d studio and they needed to first overcome the placisity of the models. Over the years they’ve gotten really good at effects and blending unrealistic proportions with real textures (and also not so much- ONWARD and THE GOOD DINOSAUR really needed some different character designs and yeah, I do think would have looked better with a 2d artstyle, but not the ones they had in their films. THE GOOD DINOSAUR needed more realistic-speculative looking dinos and ONWARD needed a grittier HEAVY METAL/BLACK CAULDRON appeal to its designs.) My point being that the problems with these movies aren’t even inherently the animation as much as it is a problem of style. As someone who runs a group speculating different styles and designs for movies and tv shows I’m all for envisioning a 2D ZOOTOPIA or Bluth-inspired FNAF. That’s amazing!

But that’s also the talk of fan artists and nerds and not the professional artists working on visualizing their stories!!

Since I ate, slept, and breathed NIGHTMARE in my youth I’ll use it as an example: All the concept art ever done for TNBC was on paper and 2D was used in the final film. However, even when Tim Burton was thinking of making it just a tv special it was always going to be stop-motion. NIGHTMARE’s puppet cast do work very well in two dimensions, believe me, but the film was made as a love letter to Rankin/Bass and the art form of stop-motion. Skipping to another Henry Selick-helmed project (haha), JAMES AND THE GIANT PEACH was also always envisioned as a multimedia film to give it a truly dream-like atmosphere. If you know anything about Henry Selick you’ll know he’s 1) a perfectionist, and 2) loves mixed media and different types of animation and puppetry at once. That’s why he was the perfect pick to direct TNBC at the time, why JAMES AND THE GIANT PEACH and CORALINE are so beautiful and why MOONGIRL, his only fully 3d film, doesn’t have the same appeal.

As for what films I couldn’t imagine NOT being 3D? Probably; 9, Padak, Next Gen, Soul, Finding Nemo, the Toy Story films, Wreck-it-Ralph (as previously mentioned), Wall.E, Waltz with Bashir, Robots, Inside Out, Arthur Christmas, The Painting, Happy Feet, Shrek, Enter the Spiderverse, Megamind… just naming a few here.

“I want a traditionally animated film [and by that I mean a 90s-Disney/Don Bluth looking movie] of ‘x'-popular live action/stage thing!”

Okay I’m cheating a bit but it’s my blog and so I’m gonna stick this one in because it’s related.

When I see musings about wanting live-action or CGI shiz to be in 2d again a lot of the time this argument actually boils down to " I want this to look like a 90s Didney movie ". Or, if it’s about animals - " I want it to look like a Don Bluth film! "

Like...there ARE other styles of animation out there...you know that right?

Frack, Disney themselves tried different styles throughout the 90s it’s just that the peak of the Disney renaissance films (LITTLE MERMAID, BEAUTY AND THE BEAST, ALADDIN, THE LION KING) and the many imitators that followed tended to have the same look to them where only film/animation nerds kept watching into the era that was TARZAN, HERCULES, and ATLANTIS along with the kids. Aunt Karen wasn't singing Part of your World in the carride with you every day.

The Don Bluth argument is especially irritating because...what exact feeling do you WANT from a movie if it looked Bluthish? Each of the four ‘quintessential’ Bluth movies (NIMH, AMERICAN TAIL, LBT, and ALL DOGS) have such a different feel to them that’s complimented by that style; SECRET OF NIMH is a drama about wild animals trying to understand humans; LAND BEFORE TIME is even more squarely about an animal’s perspective as there’s literally no humans around; AMERICAN TAIL uses animals stowing away on the ship to tell a story about refugees; and ALL DOGS GO TO HEAVEN is ALL DOGS GO TO HEAVEN.

What the frack are you even asking for with that because I think there’s a certain flavor to the Bluth-styled oeuvre as well as the 90s Disney catalogue that would clash too much stylistically with some films.

Also come on! Like some Bluthian-style 2d would really fix THE SECRET LIFE OF PETS or SCOOB!, bite me.

I think this fixation solely on these two hand drawn styles and nothing else is based on nostalgia goggles, refusing to step outside the norm and discover different films and feelings than Disney and Bluth, and just preference. Goin back to NIGHTMARE there will always be a special place in my heart for Henry Selick’s stop motion, but I couldn’t imagine CHICKEN RUN or ANOMALISA in it's unique style.

Also I’m tired of every time there’s a "lets make an animatic to ‘x’ musical theater song" it’s reliably just Disneyesque or realistic. WHY envision an animated version of the show at all if it doesn’t have A STYLE to it??!?! I’m sorry but 90s-Disney does NOT fit CABARET!

“3D is so CHEAP now! Why can’t they just do 2D again?”

I think - on the cusp of the 2020s and the Grubhub hatedom, there ARE changing times ahead for 3d and 2d. The general public are starting to get tired of the same looking 3d films and wanting some 2d back, but they don’t have the best resources or opinions on animation to know what it is they want. Meanwhile, the animation community + industry is trying to figure out what to do and you have a lot of turmoil between the monopoly that is the industry, the high standards of the artists, and the mixed wants of the animation fanbase deciding what art needs to be.

It’s a tough business. And in the spirit of that tough business - maybe DON’T act like the means of a film’s production is solely your control, that you know best, and know definitively what the artists should have done....cuz you don't. Sorry my fellow criticalfanomanalysist-folks we DON'T and in an age of standom where fans and critics think it's okay to hackle indie animation studios about not getting their pitched cartoon out fast enough - we need to reserve these discussions to our circles and not treat them as gospel.

3d animation and 2d animation have to share this world. Stop acting like they’re either interchangeable in terms of budget, means of production, or artistry or that one has to be superior to the other.

The industry already says one art form is better (spoiler: it’s always live-action), we don’t need anymore of this purist garbage. Just stick to what you like while trying new things on the side. Be critical while also being compassionate. And remember:

[21secondsofchristoph]

Here is a full translation of the interview featured in Max Magazine.

Original text by Andreas Wrede

This was a lot of work so PLEASE don’t post this elsewhere without credit. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This story with and about Christoph Waltz is a story coming full circle. A little more than 3 decades ago, a small group of editors and photojournalists, graphic artists and authors started developing the pilot for the first German issue of MAX, made possible by Dirk Manthey, the publisher from Hamburg’s Milchstraße, who knew the magazine from Italy, France and Greece. And who made me the founding-editor in chief. Three decades later, the derivative is released, thanks to publisher Max Iannucci. In 1990, Christoph Waltz was in an episode of “Der Alte”, among other things before he played the torn schlager music star Roy Black in “Du bist nicht allein – Die Roy Black Story” – but we will get to that later.

Now Christoph Waltz is an award-winning, internationally known actor, who won two Oscars for best supporting actor. That is unique for a German-speaking actor. Born in Vienna in 1956, he now lives in Los Angeles – if you want to play a role in Hollywood, literally, you must be present in Los Angeles. And during our conversation in a red, furry saloon of the legendary hotel Sacher in Vienna, he emphasizes, “Hollywood is always the goal”.  

The place is very fitting, considering Christoph Waltz grew up in Vienna, in a family that cultivated a great affinity for the work on stage for two generations. He says laconically, “You grow into a thing, you grow up with it, and thus, you acquire a familiarity early on, which you’d otherwise have to conquer with a lot more effort.” He often went to the movies from an early age on, but he spent even more time at the opera. “When I had time and had finished my homework, I enjoyed going to the opera.” Back then, a standing room ticket cost about ten Schilling, just a few cents in today’s currency. Little Christoph loved smuggling into the fascinating, secretive opera house.

Later he attended famous acting schools like the Max Reinhardt Seminar or Lee Strasberg’s Actors Studio with significantly less pleasure. “I didn’t like attending acting schools. They didn’t exactly broaden my horizon.” Christoph Waltz hardly found them inspiring. And when he received offers for movies and theater, he accepted them “instead of dealing and struggling with teachers”. He says this with few gestures and in an almost reporting tone, he has always trusted the energies inherent in him. He had his TV debut in “Der Einstand”, where he played a teenage delinquent. That was fitting, considering he continued playing roles which were different, unexpected, and specific, or roles he filled differently, unexpectedly, and specifically.

Christoph Waltz remembers his beginnings as an actor in the 70s a little wistfully. “There were still movies on TV, which were made as movies for television, as one dramatic entity.” Or when there used to be directors like the great Federico Fellini, who was “very, very specifically Italian in everything he did.” Christoph Waltz continues: “And because of this specificity he was able to reach so many people.” A phenomenon like Fellini is marked by obstinacy, nonconformity, and distinct individuality. However, some significant conditions also irritated Christoph Waltz, for instance, when he was hired for the Krzysztof-Zanussi-film “Leben für Leben” in 1991. “I wasn’t adequately informed about the conditions and backgrounds. And so, I found myself – surpsised – in front of a camera in Auschwitz.” How does one react to something like that? “Today, I would know how to react”, he stresses thoughtfully, “but today, that would be due to the self-confidence I acquired over the past years. Back then I felt: Now I’ve been hired for this film.” Alright, he adds, one grows through experience, some conflicts are worth going through. “It helps building character.”

Was the decision to play Roy Black a crystal clear one? Not at all, he responds smiling and closes his eyes for a second. “When my agent called me about it, my spontaneous reaction was: Complete humbug, and I can’t even listen to this music for three seconds.” It only became interesting for him when he learned that Roy Black originally wanted to play Rock ‘n’ Roll. Then he became interested in the tragedy of this character. And the thought that Roy Black’s wish was the desire for freedom and wildness, a wish many Germans shared, “which was inherent in the promising American machinery.” Although this freedom and wildness had always existed in Germany, lived out by people like Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, or Kandinsky.

“The film itself was great, but the marketing-weisenheimers managed to break this film. It would be a great cine film, but they advertised it as a sob story for television. Consequently, the real Roy-Black fans were disappointed, while the people who might have been interested in the movie judged: Leave me alone with this sob story twerp. Well, the weisenheimers are the weisenheimers, what can you do”, deems Christoph Waltz with a beautiful touch of Viennese sarcasm and barely noticeable risen eyebrows. One does not always have to instrumentalize the entire acting equipment with him. A few little cues are enough.

Many more films follow before someone calls from Hollywood and say he is supposed to participate in Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds. In our interview he calls this his “Quentin-jump”, where he is at eye level with Diane Kruger, Brad Pitt and Michael Fassbender in front of the camera. “Tarantino, we mentioned this before, stands for specificity and authenticity, he has an eye for both.” Did Christoph Waltz go into this production with a lot of respect? “With great respect.” He remembers an encounter with Sylvester Groth in front of a theatre in Babelsberg. “Every Thursday, Quentin showed movies during preparation. Once, Sylvester and I stood in front of the theatre and we both said: Imagine this, now we’ve been doing this for so long and suddenly we find ourselves here.” Then we paused for a few moments and kept going: Yes, and despite everything, we’re doing what we’ve always done – what we do, because that is what we do.”

Before Tarantino’s office could call again, other international projects followed, like The Green Hornet (with Cameron Diaz, Tom Wilkinson, James Franco) or Carnage (with Jodie Foster, Kate Winslet, John C. Reilly). Then Django Unchained (with Jamie Foxx, Leonardo DiCaprio, Samuel L. Jackson). For his role in Django Unchained, Christoph Waltz wins his second Oscar for best supporting actor in 2013 and Quentin wins another one for best original screenplay. But Christoph Waltz remains humble: “The opportunities presented to someone for personal growth always come to you through other people.” Although the actor always makes a binary decision. “Yes or no. Am I going to do it or not.”

Can one also make the wrong decision? “You decide for one or the other and from that other possibilities develop, but neither is better or worse.” That was not any different for Quentin Tarantino or for his first film and its director Reinhard Schwabenitzky, who saw him in acting school. Christoph Waltz leans forward and says confidentially: “The essential chances and opportunities were those which were presented to me by another mind, by a great talent, through a vision, which came from another person.” Nothing more, nothing less.

Yes, humility is a virtue. But we do not want to conceal the fact that Christoph Waltz was the first German-speaking host on Saturday Night Live and that he received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame (No. 2536, 6667 Hollywood Boulevard). The quote: “And Hollywood is always the goal.” Is correct, “like others say their goal is to get into heaven.” Hollywood, heaven: “I don’t mean to compare the two goals, but the setting of these goals. Especially Hollywood has been mythologized into more than it deserves credit for.” In this respect, as a myth, it is always the goal. Please don't tell anyone Christoph Waltz is over-the-top - the opposite is the case.

During our exchange in the Sacher, I mention one of my favorite books on film. It is Peter Biskind’s Easy Riders, Raging Bulls – How the Sex-Drugs-And-Rock’n’roll Generation saved Hollywood. It says: „There is no worse career move in Hollywood than dying. Hal Ashby is now largely forgotten, because he had the misfortune to die at the end of the 80’s, but he had the most remarkable run of any ’70 director. After ‚The Landlord‘, in 1970, he made ‚Harold and Maude‘, ‚The Last Detail‘, ‚Shampoo‘, ‚Bound for Glory‘, ‚Coming Home‘ and ‚Being there‘ in 1979, before his career disappeared into the dark tunnel of post-‘70’s, Me Decade Drugs and paranoia.“

It can be assumed that this won’t happen to Christoph Waltz? “That is a good example for the mythologizing I was referring to”, he responds. “I would claim that a legend like James Dean probably wouldn’t have developed at all, had he not driven himself to death in his Porsche at such a young age. Who knows what would have become of Marilyn Monroe, had she not put an early end to her complicated life.” And parallel to Hal Ashby, there probably were thousands of directors, who would have been happy to pay their next rent – by working in their profession. It is therefor about comparativeness.

Onto another career step, the James Bond movie Spectre, in which Christoph Waltz portrays the dark Blofeld, a character, who appeared in previous Bond movies. How do we have to imagine that? One sunny day the agent comes along and says: “You’re on the list for the next Bond movie”? Christoph Waltz knows there are no rules to this, especially when it is something like James Bond. A series that has been at the peak of possibilities for more than 50 years.” The producers have a lot to lose, they have to look very closely. Not only to keep up the standard, they also want to be ahead of their time.

Was it intriguing to play this bad boy a second time? Is it about an additional nuance of expertly irony; is it about the myth that is Bond? “This was another unique opportunity for me”, says Christoph Waltz, “a unique opportunity to include myself into such an incredibly successful series.”  Now after Spectre, for the second time in No Time To Die – a title that can offer a bit of comfort in times of the world wide covid pandemic. And Christoph Waltz is in the Bond movie that will be Daniel Craig’s final Bond. “It’s his fourth Bond movie”, he counts, “the actors change but the role remains the same. Of course, the role acquires a different profile and thus, different facets.” But it remains James Bond. “And when a new actor gets the role, he has to fit into the role, not the other way around.” Once again, we will have to wait for this Bond movie. It will probably hit theatres in spring 2021.

It reminds one of Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida – we’ve seen it a dozen times but keep going to see it again. Nowadays you go to see the production, in the past you went to see whosit faithless. Speaking of productions: Are the demands towards a Bond director more extensive compared to other film projects? “Surely there are more things to keep an eye on compared to a low budget movie or an independent film. In productions like that, you often have to use the tools you have. In Denmark they had demands referring to this “, Christoph Waltz comments in a slightly mocking undertone. He means the group around Lars von Trier? “Precisely, they called it Dogma for fun, and the world took them seriously.” But that is part of it, right, part of the business.

Anyway, every little detail is carefully manufactured for a Bond movie.  And that takes, apart from a lot of money, a great level of expertise and many employees, which combine into a story on film. “Legions of people work on every pixel, not to mention the light and the meaning of the music.” With all this in mind, it’s understandable how appealing it is to be in a movie like No Time To Die. Christoph Waltz has a lot of praise for the director, Cary Fukanaga: “He always knew exactly what he was doing and we knew exactly, why he did this or that”. Audiences were able to see this in previous projects, like the brilliant first season of True Detective, where he directed all eight episodes.

Christoph Waltz wouldn’t be Christoph Waltz if he didn’t show his extraordinary talents in unconventional projects as well, like the show Most Dangerous Game (with Liam Hemsworth, produced for Quibi). “What interested me there? The new dramatic form, it’s a story in 16 sections, each section only eight minutes long. We’re dealing with a new form of storytelling.” Does it remind him of the continuous comics that used to be in US-newspapers a few decades ago?

“Yes, it’s connected to that – but it also reminds me of Charles Dickens, who published many of his novels as newspaper installments. In Most Dangerous Game the great story arch is not lost, the suspense is carried from one episode into the next. “That is a sleight of hand.” And for that he received an Emmy nomination, and it wouldn’t be surprising if he was to win the prestigious award one day. But he pulled off other sleight of hands in the past. Or how the New York Times says in a headline: “Christoph Waltz directing Opera, moves from Tarantino to Verdi.” Adding his old comment to this: “The full-blooded, juicy movie experience has a lot of operatic qualities. I’m not talking about the film music, but about the rhythm and color and phrasing.” After “Der Rosenkavalier” (Music: Richard Strauss, Libretto: Hugo von Hofmannsthal), which he staged at the Antwerp Opera, came Giuseppe Verdi’s “Falstaff”, his second opera there.

“I’m not a fan of the never-seen-before concept”, says Christoph Waltz. He agrees with Susan Sontag’s essay Against Interpretation – in opera, there is a fix story, and the music is the central transmitter of this story. Over-interpretations can quickly become “dangerous sliding tackles.” Waltz wants to avoid those. “I want to show what the composers and authors meant.” He stayed true to Sontag’s principle in all three of his opera productions, the third on being Beethoven’s only opera “Fidelio”.

He is self-critical enough, “to personally take the risk of failing.” What would be the alternative?

“I’m just an actor, now what do the music critics, who take themselves so seriously say? Some foam at the mouth and brawl ‘the movie-bod is interfering in the opera’.” He prefers the critics that are capable of formulating things between the lines. “When I read elsewhere, that the very thing I was trying to convey can be seen in detail, then I’m quietly happy about it.” Sadly, the live performances of Fidelio fell victim to the covid-crisis, but there was a TV-screening on ORF, which can certainly be called presentable with 11% of the market-share.  “During ‘Fidelio’ I first realized physically that music is a spatial experience.” Here fits another Waltz-quote: “Strip away anything that us unnecessary.” Ergo: Reduce the action to the interaction between the characters. That is an art he mastered to perfection in acting.”

For once, I could surprise the cleaned up, chatty, well-tempered Christoph Waltz with a little research.

In his birthyear, 1956, his fellow countryman Walter Felsenstein, founder and artistic director of the “Komische Oper” in Berlin filmed a version of “Fidelio”. To this day, it remains the only film adaptation of the opera. Probably because – so the actor quotes Felsenstein – “this opera technically is impossible to stage”, he says with aplomb, an attitude that suits him. In ballet an aplomb describes the ability to absorb a movement, the balance.

Christoph Waltz not only shoots a lot of movies, but he also enjoys reading one particular movie critic: Anthony Lane of the New Yorker. Surely one of the most sharpened critics, who outtalks someone or rubs the reader’s nose into his alleged ignorance. We start talking about Lane via a new movie by the fabulous Agnieszka Holland, “Mr. Jones” – referring to Gareth Jones, advisor to the former British Prime Minister Lloyd George. Jones uncovers that the devastating hunger crisis in the Ukraine in 1932/33 was exclusively due to Stalin’s exploiting politics. Anthony Lane writes in inimitable fashion: „Is it conceivable that Holland’s bleak, murky, and instructive film could prompt a change of heart in the current Russian establishment, or even a confession of crimes past? Not a chance.“ Greetings from Belarus.

And of course, we also talk about COVID, what does an actor do who can’t act during these times? Is he reading Robert Musil’s novel The Man Without Qualities, which has more than 1000 pages? “Oh, I’ve already attempted to read this three times. The first time, I got to page 200, the second time I got to page 400, the third time I put it away after 100 pages.” But he doesn’t fully abandon the idea of finishing it one day. “But that would really be a true accomplishment of discipline”, he underlines, allusively smiling. Less amusing is the current stagnancy in Hollywood, where Christoph Waltz lives with his wife and daughter for the most part. “It will be illuminating once things pick up again”, he ponders “will a reforming spirit take over, or will everything fall back into the old, ignorant patterns, or even cause worse?” The temporary dysfunctionality of Hollywood is comparable to a dysfunctional family, which mechanisms become especially clear during crisis. Now he visited his mother here in Vienna. I allow myself the question, “Is Vienna your home?” “Vienna is my home, home is something you can’t choose, like your parents. Everything else can become your center of living, all that is willingly moveable – but home, home cannot be changed at will.”

[tlbodine]

The History & Evolution of Home Invasion Horror

Here’s my prediction: In the next couple of years, we’re going to be seeing a sudden surge of home invasion movies hit the market. For many of us, 2020 has been a year of extreme stress compounded by social isolation; venturing outside means being exposed to a deadly plague, after all. 

And while many people have already predicted that we’ll see an influx of pandemic and virus horrors (see my post on those: https://ko-fi.com/post/Pandemic-and-Pandemonium-Sickness-in-Horror-T6T21I201), I actually think a lot of us are going to be processing a different type of fear -- anxiety about what happens when your home, which is supposed to be a literal safe space, gets invaded. Because if you’re not safe in your own house...you’re not safe anywhere. 

Home invasion movies have been around a long time -- arguably as long as film, with 1909′s The Lonely Villa setting down the formula -- and they share many of the same roots as slasher films in the 1970s. But somewhere along the way, they separated off and became their own distinct subgenre with specific tropes, and it’s that separation and the stories that followed it that I want to focus on. 

The Origins of the Home Invasion Movie 

In order to really qualify as a home invasion movie, a film has to meet a few requirements:

The action must be contained entirely (or almost entirely) to a single location, usually a private residence (ie, the home) 

The perpetrator(s) must be humans, not supernatural entities (no ghosts, zombies, or vampires -- that’s a different set of tropes!) 

In most cases, the horror builds during a long siege between the invader and the home-dweller, including scenes of torture, capture, escape, traps, and so forth. 

To an extent, home invasion movies are truth in television. Although home invasions are relatively rare, and most break-ins occur when a family is away (the usual goal being to steal things, not torture and kill people), criminals do sometimes break into people’s homes, and homeowners are sometimes killed by them. 

In the 1960s and 70s, this certainly would have been at the forefront of people’s minds. Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood detailed one such crime in lavish detail, and the account was soon turned into a film. Serial killers like the Boston Strangler, BTK Killer and the “Vampire of Sacramento” Richard Chase also made headlines for their murders, which often occurred inside the victim’s home. (Chase, famously, considered unlocked doors to be an invitation, which is one great reason to lock your doors). 

By the 1960s and 70s, too, people were more and more often beginning to live in cities and larger neighborhoods where they did not know their neighbors. Anxieties about being surrounded by strangers (and, let’s face it, racial anxieties rooted in newly-mixed, de-segregated neighborhoods) undoubtedly fueled fears about home invasion. 

Early Roots of the Home Invasion Genre

Home invasion plays a part in several crime thrillers and horror films in the 1950s and 60s, including Alfred Hitchcock’s Dial M for Murder in 1954, but it’s more of a plot point than a genre. In these films, home invasion is a means to an end rather than a goal unto itself. 

We see some early hints of the home invasion formula show up in Wes Craven’s Last House on the Left in 1972. The film depicts a group of murderous thugs who, after torturing and killing two girls, seek refuge in the victim’s home and plot the deaths of the rest of the family. In 1974, the formula is refined with Bob Clark’s Black Christmas, which shows the one-by-one murder of members of a sorority house and chilling phone calls that come from inside the home. 

Even closer still is I Spit on Your Grave, directed by Meir Zarchi in 1978. Although it’s generally (and rightly) classified as a rape-revenge film, the first half of the movie -- where an author goes to a remote cabin and is targeted and brutally assaulted by a group of men -- hits all the same story beats as the modern home invasion story: isolation, mundane evil, acts of random violence, and protracted torture. 

Slumber Party Massacre, directed by Amy Holden Jones in 1982, also hits on both home invasion and slasher tropes. Although it is primarily a straightforward slasher featuring an escaped killer systematically killing teenagers (with a decidedly phallic weapon), the film also shows its victims teaming up and fighting back -- weaponizing their home against the killer. This becomes an important part of the genre in later years! 

In 1997, Funny Games, directed by Michael Haneke, provides a brutal but self-aware look at the genre. Created primarily as a condemnation of violent media, the film nevertheless succeeds as an unironic addition to the home invasion canon -- from its vulnerable, suffering family to the excruciating tension of its plot to the nihilistic, motive-free criminality of its villains, it may actually be the purest example of the home invasion movie. 

Home Invasions Gone Wrong 

Where things start to get interesting for the home invasion genre is 1991′s The People Under the Stairs, another Wes Craven film. Here the script is flipped: The hero is the would-be robber, breaking and entering into the home of some greedy rich landlords. But this plan swiftly goes sideways when the homeowners turn out to be even worse people than they’d first let on. 

This is, as far as I can tell, the origin of the home-invasion-gone-wrong subgenre, which has gained immense popularity recently -- due, perhaps, to a growing awareness of systemic issues, a differing view of poverty, and a viewership sympathetic to the plight of down-on-their-luck criminals discovering that rich homeowners are, indeed, very bad people. 

Home Invasion Film Explosion of the 2000s 

The home invasion genre really hit the ground running in the 2000s, due perhaps to post-911 anxieties about being attacked on our home turf (and increasing economic uneasiness in a recession-afflicted economy and a growing awareness of the Occupy movement and wealth inequality). We see a whole slew of these films crop up, each bringing a slightly different twist to the formula.

*  It’s also worth noting that the 2000s saw remakes of many well-known films in the genre, including Funny Games and Last House on the Left.  

In 2008, Bryan Bertino directed The Strangers, a straightforward home invasion involving one traumatized couple and three masked villains. By this point, we’re wholly removed from the early crime movie roots; these are not people breaking in for financial gain. Like the killers in Funny Games, the masked strangers lack motive and even identity; they are simply a force of evil, chaotic and senseless. 

The themes of “violence as a senseless, awful thing” are driven further home by Martyrs, another 2008 release, this one from French director Pascal Laugier. A revenge story turned into a home-invasion-gone-wrong, the film is noteworthy for its brutality and blunt nihilism. 

2009′s The Collector, directed by Marcus Dunstan, is another home-invasion-gone-wrong movie. Like Martyrs, it dovetails with the torture porn genre (another popular staple of the 2000s), but it has a lot more fun with it. The film follows a down-on-his-luck thief who breaks into a house only to encounter another home invader set on murdering the family that lives there. The cat-and-mouse games between the two -- which involve numerous traps and convoluted schemes -- are fun to watch (if you like blood and guts). 

In a similar vein, we see You’re Next in 2013, which starts off as a standard home invasion movie but takes a sharp twist when it’s revealed that one of the victims isn’t nearly as helpless as she appears. Director Adam Wingard helps to redefine the concept of “final girl” in this move in a way that has carried forward right into the next decade with no sign of stopping. 

2013 of course also introduced us to The Purge, a horror franchise created by James DeMonaco. If there was ever any doubt as to the economic anxieties at the root of the genre, they should be alleviated now -- The Purge is such a well-known franchise at this point that the term has entered our pop culture lexicon as a shorthand for revolution. 

Don’t Breathe, directed be Fede Alvarez in 2016, is one of the creepiest modern entries into the “failed home invasion” category, and one that (ha ha) breathed some new life into the genre. Much like The People Under the Stairs, it tells the story of some down-on-their-luck criminals getting in over their heads when they target the wrong man. However, there is not the same overt criticism of wealth inequality in this film; it’s a movie more interested in examining and inverting genre tropes than treading new thematic ground. The same is true of Hush that same year. Directed by Mike Flanagan, the film is most noteworthy for its deaf protagonist. 

But lest you start to think the home invasion genre had lost its thematic relevance, 2019 arrived with two hard-hitting, thoughtful films that dip their toes in these tropes: Jordan Peele’s Us and Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite, which both tackle themes of privilege in light of home invasion (albeit a nontraditional structure in Parasite -- its inclusion here is admittedly a bit of a stretch, but I think it falls so closely in the tradition of The People Under the Stairs that it deserves a spot on this list). 

What Does the Future Hold? 

I’m no oracle, so I can’t say for certain where the future of the home invasion genre might lead. But I do think we’re going to start seeing more of them in the next few years as a bunch of creative folks start working through our collective trauma. 

Income inequality, racial inequality, political unrest and systemic issues are all at the forefront of our minds (not to mention a deadly virus), and those themes are ripe for the picking in horror. 

I know that Paul Tremblay’s novel The Cabin at the End of the World has been optioned for film, so we might be seeing that soon -- and if so, it might just usher in a fresh wave of apocalypse-flavored home invasion stories. 

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[blastoisemonster]

Kodomo No Omocha’s Sticker Album Highlights (Merlin, 2001, Italian)

Let's keep talking about retro japanese cartoons, shall we? I've done some posts lately in which I reviewed Game Boy games based on comics or animations from Japan, with the intention of covering series that I either used to watch as a kid or recall being popular during the GB and GBC eras. A lot of these games have never been released outside Japan, so it's also an occasion to gather up some imports and see what Italy has missed on. There's actually a particular cartoon I wanted to talk about since the start of this research, but unfortunately it seems it has never recieved any videogame adaptation. But hey, this is my blog, and I can talk about whatever I want! >:C Also I suddenly remembered my Fandom tag has been created purposely for non-gaming objects. >.> So, let's look at some stickers while I tell you the tale of Rossana.

Rossana can be best described as the soap opera that spawned a second wave of nipponic hysteria among every single italian person under 20 during the very last period of the 90s. It's like The Bold And The Beautiful looked at Pokèmon and said "yeah, I want something like that.". Its popularity hit even harder my personal view of the world as the plot starts with the protagonists attending the last year of elementary school... which is exactly what me and my friends were doing, multiplying the relatable factor tenfold. This cartoon took everyone by their necks since its first episode: it was broadcasted on what was, at the time, the best and most popular italian channel for children entertainment, and heavily advertised before starting, so we knew exactly when to tune in to catch it. The day after the first episode, school looked like a different place. Everyone in class was chanting the opening at the top of their lungs; boys were acting like the male protagonists, all girls mimicked the main role Rossana, the more artisticly inclined ones started doodling the characters anywhere possible, including textbooks and homework. Teachers were in tears. I had watched the first episode and found it amusing enough to keep me entertained, so for some period I fully partecipated in the general enjoyment of the cartoon. Then, I started missing episodes (when you missed something on TV during the 90s... it was gone!) and upon returning to it, I found the plot had become much more complex and centered on sentimental intrigues, of which I never gave a toss about, so I jumped off the hype train while others still followed it until the end.

As it is usual for these productions, Rossana was another anime based on a manga series; the original work is titled "Kodomo No Omocha" (which literally means "Children's Plaything"... yeah, I too find it a tad creepy), drawn by mangaka Miho Obana and serialized by Ribon from 1994 to 1998. It tells the story of Rossana Kurata, a child actress (an idol in the original story) trying to balance her career with a normal kid's life by going to school and having normal friends: however, her class is anything but normal and she finds herself often fighting against the biggest bully of the school group, Hayama (translated as Heric in italian). As the story progresses, though, Sana understands Heric's complex and at times completely inappropriate attitude is a result of a troubled childhood, having lost his mother at birth and being bullied by his older sister and completely ignored by his father. Willing to help him out, Sana befriends him and starts to develop even deeper feelings, also sharing her own troubled past: she had been actually abandoned as a newborn and adopted by Misako, a famous writer. New characters are introduced along the way, among which the child actor Charles, Sana's schoolmate but also colleague which the girl will work alongside during a trip to the States, and Funny, an extremely extroverted kid that will at first become close friends with Sana, but that will, at some point, steal Heric's heart, leaving Sana to deal with heartbreak and jealousy. Despite the story being drawn in an energetic shojo style and the episodes showing many hysterical/demential jokes along the way, Kodomo No Omocha is a dramatic story centered on overcoming past secrets, venomous feelings, and describing the difficult shift from childhood to adolescence.

The original 10 manga volumes got adapted for animation in 102 episodes, which broadcasted on TV Tokyo from 1996 to 1998. In Italy, the anime got imported first with the direct title "Rossana": it was aired in its entirety during all of the year 2000, and yes, all the 102 episodes got translated! Unfortunately, the channel wanted to make Rossana completely targetable to little kids, which meant that many plot elements had to undergo heavy censorship. The result was a comedy/demential series that at times showed a sentimental route, and for the rest felt very cut, like it was hiding something. This was no Chou Gals!-styled localizaion effort: scenes were edited or completely deleted, names and terms translated losing all context, graphics and objects concerning japanese culture got zoomed out, some episodes even aired randomly without following the original order, and finally the ending got cut, leaving it as an open cliffhanger. Kodomo No Omocha is, originally, marketed towards an adolescent audience, but kids are a much more profitable target, so a lot of the original plot points went away: Sana no longer thinks of Rei (her adult manager, called Robby in italian) as his boyfriend; it's never mentioned that her actual mother abandoned her in a park after giving birth at only 14 years old; and many instances in which some kids (Heric, but also Komori in later eps) practice self-harm or have suicidal thoughts are cut in their entirety. And yet, despite this general mangling, the story managed to become popular anyway, gaining three reruns, some video distribution on VHS and DVD (both cut, for unknown reasons, after the 20th episode), and an opening with lyrics that will never leave the minds of an entire generation. The manga got translated only after 2002, getting marketed instead for its actual audience and going for a literal translation of its original title: "Il giocattolo dei bambini - Rossana" got published by Dynit in its entirety, however I'm not sure wether it underwent the same censorship measures of the cartoon or it was left to a more faithful state.

The hype about Rossana was interestingly lacking of any substantial, original merchandise imported from their origin country; instead, every gadget we had about the anime was produced by italian companies and it consisted in the usual cheapish stuff sold in order to cash a quick buck on popular media. We had school supplies such as bags, pencil cases and diaries, decorated stationary, and the never-missing sticker album. This last merchandise, aptly featured in this post, is what I remember most since everyone was trading doubles at school; the blindingly hot pink package has also burned a permanent image in my mind. Published by Merlin in 2001, Rossana's abundantly pink album could contain 204 stickers; be them glossy, holographic, single or combined, it adds up as quite a large selection considering that all images shown were nothing more than screenshots of the cartoon, with album pages filling up a description of episodes shown, or giving a little more insight on the general plot. At least my previously reviewed Pokèmon album showed interesting action poses by Sugimori and doubled up as a Pokèdex, but I do recognize the latter can count on a much more substantial franchise. What Rossana's album excels in, though, is its value; remember when I said a completed Pokèmon album was only worth a few bucks? Well, a completed Rossana album goes instead for nothing less than a hundred euros on secondhand markets. Even the single stickers, if sold in lots, can become a pretty penny, and still sealed booster packs can range from 30 to 70 euros depending on how many you're selling. I can already picture italian readers going through their cupboards to see if they still have this relic intact! As for me, I was too focused on Pokèmon during that period to care about filling up another sticker album, so I had completely skipped that. And no, I'm not gonna spend 100+ euros on an album just to make a Fandom post: what you're seeing here are all images collectors have shown to the net.

It's interesting to notice that Merlin tried to cash in on the anime's popularity even beyond the sticker album itself, by advertising even among the album pages an upcoming periodical (monthly I suppose?) magazine almost all centered on the cartoon, but trying to double up as a typical girls' magazine with pictures of boybands, various articles, and the always present and equally emberassing mail section. For some reason I have very vivid flashbacks of me going through the pages of the first volume: probably some friend brought it at school, they had it lying about at their house, or I may have bought it along with other girls then left it to them. This mag was nothing particular and doomed to be shortlived: you can't keep a single anime series relevant forever, and it was apparent that arguments tried to always pull Rossana into context when in reality it had nothing to do with the articles. It seemingly disappeared after its second issue, and got buried under the sheer abundance of more relevant girly mags, among which the legendary Cioè.

All in all, Rossana’s shout of livelyhood was probably short, but loud enough to have shook the heart and soul of many of us, especially in this country. It’s apparent that companies wanted to keep the profit margin as high as possible by not importing any substantial japanese gadget about Sana and opting instead for printed publications or cheapy stationery; however, apart from dolls, plushes and general toys, even Japan didn’t seem too keen on releasing actually peculiar stuff dedicated to the franchise. The most technological gimmick I found is a toy audio recorder, of which I can only find a few images online and not even one single listing so I can get and review it. Maybe I’m just sour no one ever thought about doing a Game Boy adaptation, because I’m sure it would’ve been a major hit among girls here. Oh well, can’t change the past... but surely you can remember it. :)

[nelllraiser]

seal you later | lucky & nell

LOCATION: al’s diner. PARTIES: @lvcky-charms and @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: lucky is on the lookout for a tracker that can find his selkie skin, and is led to nell. she knows we all get by with a little help from our (black market) friends. 

Al’s Diner had always been a staple for Nell. Growing up this had been the place she’d always come whenever she had a burger or milkshake craving, and that happened more often than not with the appetite and sweet tooth that she had. Tonight was no exception as she settled into a booth, having no need for a menu. She waited impatiently for the waitress to arrive to take her order, foot jiggling in place as her stomach let out a low grumble. Was it possible to die of starvation in the span of a half hour? Of course not. But that didn’t keep the witch from pondering the dramatization of how she was wasting away in this booth, wishing for nothing more than for food to magically appear in front of her. Finally, it seemed that a man was approaching her table, and she waved eagerly before realizing she didn’t recognize this face. Had Al’s gotten a new hire? “Are you new here?” she asked with her head tilted to the side, harmlessly intrigued. Maybe this was Celeste’s replacement. After all, hadn’t Ariana said that she used to work here? It was grim to think about how easily a person could be replenished when it came to things like this. The Hunter might be gone and dead, but the world still moved on, and Al’s kept hiring new people. 

Tracking someone or something down in this town was no easy feat. Lucky had been snooping around for the greater part of a week when someone had offered up a name that might provide more leads. Penelope Vural. Thankfully, after popping into most food establishments around meal times, he spotted someone that fit her admittedly vague description inside a diner. The anxiety of walking up to a total stranger had his palms clammy with...whatever selkies secreted (honestly, that one was a mystery to him still). Wiping his hands on his pants, he froze at the table when the woman there looked at him. Shit that’s right, pay attention. “You Penelope?” he mumbled, brow creasing as he concentrated on her lips for a reply. This would be painfully awkward if this wasn’t her.

Nell’s innocent curiosity morphed into a slight frown when the man asked for her by name. Had the workers at Al already been gossiping? Maybe they’d inducted him by running the names of regular customers past him. No...that wasn’t right. Everyone here just called her Nell. Instinctively her shoulders squared, and then tensed as paranoia set in. Ever since Montgomery had hunted her down, those that looked for her and she didn’t know posed possible threats, people that might also want to hunt her. “Who’s asking?” she replied defensively, giving the man a cursory once over to take in whatever information she could about him. He looked to be about her oldest sister, Bea’s age. Or maybe somewhere in between Bea and the middle sister, Luce. His lack of eye contact while she readied her reply was also baffling, though she wasn’t sure what to make of it quite yet. 

Lucky mentally noted the shift in posture. That was never a particularly good sign in his experience. Usually, someone was upset, but he hadn’t set anything in particular that would be upsetting. Pushing that aside, he slid into the booth across from her, propping his elbows on the table and offering a tight lipped smile. Humans liked smiles, and Lucky wasn’t exactly sure if she was human or not, so it was worth a try. “I’m Lucky,” he mumbled, nodding. “I lost my--...a thing. You track things? Yeah?” He sniffed the air with an attempt at subtlety. He could smell a lot of things, sure, but none of them were very alarming. It was mostly food and grease; diner smells. Maybe Penelope was human? Difficult to say. 

He just sat in the booth as if he belonged there, and Nell was slightly taken aback by the sheer audacity the movement required. Again she watched him carefully, wondering who the hell this guy was. By now she was positive he didn’t work here, which confirmed that he was looking for her, specifically. “You lost something?” she echoed, realization beginning to dawn. He was here for a job, wasn’t he? Or maybe someone else she’d helped had passed the word along, and he was hoping she might be able to help him, as well. “I’m Nell- but I guess you already knew that,” she said before extending her hand in an offer for a shake. “But yeah- I usually track people. Or....” She darted her head around to make sure there was no one within earshot of them. “Ah- other people-like things?” That was as delicate and vague a way to put supernatural creatures as she could manage. “What were you looking for?” 

Nell, Lucky mouthed, straining to try to get the mouth-feel right. “Nell?” he questioned, aloud this time. Nodding along, he watched her lips intently, then her hand was out and distracting him. His palms were still slimy at best, so he carefully regarded the extended hand and wiped his palms on his jeans again before accepting the handshake. “Nice to meet,” he mumbled and ducked his head a little in efforts to keep his sharp teeth concealed. That was all he needed, to look like a real threat in the middle of a diner during a dinner rush. His head was still down when Nell began speaking again, so he caught just part of it. People or people-like things. Yeah, he supposed he counted as a people-like thing. Lucky’s leg began to bounce under the table and he slouched a little further down in the booth as he considered how to best answer. If he came right out and said I’m a selkie and I need my skin back, it could end badly for him. Best to ease into it. “I...had a something stolen from me. A people-like something.” Gritting his teeth, he awaited a negative response or some kind of attack, mentally preparing his best escape route. The way his body felt, Lucky was in no condition to fight back. 

The more time Nell spent sat across from this man— the more puzzling he became. “Are you...alright?” she asked reflexively, not knowing how else to figure out what piece she was missing here. Nevertheless, she nodded as he said her name, providing another example. “Like Bell but with an ‘N’.” It wasn’t the most straightforward nickname, and she’d had to use the comparison more than once in her life. “Nice to meet you, too.” It was a quick handshake and then she was back to resting her arms across her chest, her confusion only growing by the minute the more Lucky spoke. For a moment he seemed to cave in on himself, growing smaller in his seat while he thought up an answer. It certainly wasn’t all that like her usual clientele. “A...people-like something that was stolen?” she echoed, trying to make sense of what he might mean. “Like...a special...pet?” If it was a supernatural creature that belonged to him, that would make sense, right? “You know we can go somewhere else to talk about this if that makes it easier,” she offered, knowing a place as public as this might not be the best venue. 

Lucky leaned back against the booth, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table when no attack came. “I’m fine, just deaf,” he mumbled dismissively with a vague gesture of his hand. “Nell. Bell. Okay.” Abruptly, he leaned in closer again. How else could he get her to understand without just outright saying it? If she was afraid of talking about this in public, she wouldn’t attack him; it was the thought of what could happen outside of the restaurant that gave him pause. “Public’s fine,” he said, feeling the anxiety swelling again. He folded his hands beneath the table, wringing them as best he could while they were slick. Here goes nothing. “Looking for...my skin. My seal skin,” he clarified and grimaced, letting his teeth show as he did so. 

“Oh,” Nell said without thinking, her gut reaction of embarrassment at having not noticed quickly replacing the confusion that had been dominating her expression. “Ah- I mean- sorry- I didn’t mean to-” Perhaps it was best to let that die on her lips for fear of accidentally putting her foot in her mouth. “Right. Alright. I’m glad you’re fine.” That counted as a recovery, right? His swift and unexpected movement forward, and her subsequent reflexive jerk backwards was a welcome distraction, and she found her hand gripping the outline of one her hidden knives out of instinct. Again her mind pestered her about whether or not he was actually here looking for something, the vigilant beating of her heart in her throat putting her on high alert. It wasn’t fear, but self-preservation that made her wonder. First it was the mention of his seal skin that sparked a flicker of recognition, another soft “oh” falling from her, though it hadn’t completely processed until he revealed his teeth. “Oh,” she repeated a little louder this time, understanding flooding Nell while her eyes widened ever so slightly. “Right, right your-” she cut the sentence off with another glance around them, figuring there was no need to repeat what Lucky truly was for anyone that might be able to overhear it. “It’s lost?” she asked with renewed concern as the cogs began to turn in her mind. “Someone took it?” Wasn’t there only so long that a selkie could go without their pelt before… “Shit,” she cursed aloud. “Yes. Yeah, I’ll look for that. Do you have any leads or anything? Where was it taken? How long ago?” Hunters that took from selkies were the worst sort. Of all the supernatural creatures in the world, the seal-people were arguably the least harmful. Quite literally nothing more than...seals. 

Lucky slowly backed up again as Nell recoiled and made a mental note to slow his movements. Thankfully he’d stopped biting things as a casual test of danger. That would’ve gone over much, much worse. He straightened up in his seat and cocked his head, considering Nell silently for a moment. He let his lips fall back down over his teeth. If Nell posed any danger, certainly his teeth were threat enough, though she didn’t seem to want to fight him at all. He felt a sense of relief wash over him at that realization. Nell seemed intimidated--no, maybe it was an overt sense of caution. That he could respect and relate to. Lucky nodded again as Nell connected the dots aloud. “Been tracking it. Five years. Led me here, so I’m looking for more local leads. Got your name looking for a tracker. My skin might be…” he paused, slowly leaning forward again, letting the stiffness in his shoulders ebb away. “Black market?” he mumbled, more of a question than a statement. Truthfully, he didn’t know how to get connected to that particular part of town. If there was really a skin trade operation, he had to find it as soon as possible. Lucky’s stream of income was running out slowly the less he found himself able to work, and the hotel he was staying at didn’t seem like the kind to accept credit and a promise. Then again...promises seemed to go pretty far around here. “You’ll help?” Lucky perked up, suppressing a pleased wiggle, and grinned at Nell, teeth showing again. This was the closest he’d felt to finding his skin in a long while and he couldn’t help the flutter of excitement that bubbled up in his chest. 

“Tracking it how?” Nell asked, wanting to know just how far Lucky had gotten. The more information she had, the easier this would be, and the higher chance of success they’d have. “What led you here? If I know where it was taken from- I could maybe go check it out even if it was five years ago.” She nodded at the mention of her being a tracker, but quickly amended the statement for him. “To be fair- I usually look for people. They’re easier to find than things.” Plus the usual spells she used didn’t find objects. Maybe she could somehow tweak it? But a skin wasn’t like any normal item. Surely it was bound closer to Lucky’s essence than a misplaced book or jacket might be. Right? She’d have to look into it. Probably experiment a little, and maybe get a little invasive with the man sitting before her. That could wait, though. For now she needed to learn the basics, the rest would come after. “But I can find your pelt,” she said fiercely, as if she could will the possibility into existence. They’d find it one way or another. Nell nodded at the mention of the black market, already knowing how to break into that. “For sure- that’d be a good place to look. I can ask a couple of people I know if they might be able to help with that part.” Felix would surely know his way around it. Maybe even Erin with all the organ trading she’d done. “Of course I’ll help!” she answered with a passion that matched the bright fire in her eyes. She wasn’t going to let the man before her just...waste away into nothingness if there was something she could do about it. “We can start right away.”

“Got a few tips on where it might be, if it was trading hands, that sort of thing. Followed it from California to here, trying to make black market connections on the way.” Lucky’s brow creased and he looked at the table for a moment, the excitement dwindling. He hadn’t been led here with much more than a comment that this was the biggest hub for supernatural activity on the eastern seaboard. White Crest, of all places, wasn’t a massive city by any means, but it was certainly an odd beacon for the strange and unusual. “Came here on a tip that the trade is good. Skins come through here often. You know about that?” Lucky looked back up at her, his eyes pained. The confidence in her voice, in her expression, was something Lucky didn’t know if he could trust. Sighing, he steeled himself again. He didn’t have any other option as he saw it, and Nell was willing to fight for him. That was something he was desperate for; someone who was in his corner. He gritted his teeth and nodded firmly, eyes matching the passion in hers. “Where do we start?”

Again Nell nodded along as Lucky spoke, mind running a mile a minute as she began to plan— trying to choose the best route that would lead to Lucky’s missing skin. It didn’t seem that Lucky’s information was all that specific, but it was still something. She’d find a way to work with it. The corners of her mouth tightened as he mentioned White Crest’s seemingly flourishing selkie skin trade, not exactly surprised to hear such a thing, but also not pleased. A memory flashed through her mind’s eye, going back to the pile of selkie pelts he and Luce had liberated from Montgomery’s disgusting trophy den. She’d known there were more out there that hunted selkies, but the undeniable proof of it sitting in front of her only made her stomach churn uncomfortably. “I’ve seen some pelts here before. They weren’t in the trade, though. And one of the friends I’m thinking might be able to help dealt a lot in selling body parts and stuff- so maybe that includes pelts.” The way he looked at her while he spoke tugged at something in her, a need to help this poor man gain back what had been wrongfully taken quickly finding a home in her. She’d seen it before in the people she’d helped while on her travels, and Nell was eager to get back on track with helping people. So much of what she’d done in the past few months had been harm, and though she didn’t regret any of it...it would be nice to bring about something good via a path that wasn’t blazed by destruction. “Why don’t you come over to my greenhouse later on? We can start ironing things out there. And I can get in contact with my friends, and then I’ll point them to you.”

Hearing that Nell had seen other pelts around town filled Lucky with conflicting emotions. On one hand, the possibility that his skin could be here had him bordering on happy; but on the other hand, the thought that other selkies could be missing such an essential part of themselves was heartbreaking to hear. It was a void not easily mended, and one that grew harder to ignore every day. What pulled him out of that train of thought was the casual mention of dealing in body parts without a moment’s pause. The learning curve of White Crest really was a sharp one. Mimes, invasive postal workers, organ trade… No time for that specific spiral. Nell mentioned a greenhouse and Lucky nodded along. “What time?” he asked, already digging around in his jacket pocket for a pen and paper. He produced both and started scrawling while looking at Nell’s lips expectantly. 

Nell checked the clock on her phone before answering, trying to figure out how long it would take her to be ready to see Lucky again. Finally she settled on a time. “7:30 PM.” That would give her a bit of a window to get ready. It was a little close to a standard dinner time, though. The realization came a bit belatedly, and she quickly made Lucky an offer. “I can make us something to eat too, if you’ll be hungry. I’m assuming most any meat is a good bet, right?” she asked with the beginnings of a grin. Most selkies thrived off a protein rich diet. “You can meet me at this address,” she said before rattling off the location of Bea’s house. “The greenhouse is around back, and it’s kinda in the middle of nowhere so just text me if you get lost.” Then she was giving him her phone number as well. “We’re gonna get it back,” she affirmed once more, iron determination in her voice. “You just wait and see. Soon enough you’ll be back in the ocean before you know it.”

[jechrealty]

The Case for a 30 Year Mortgage

Disclaimer: I am not a mortgage lender, accountant, or financial advisor. I’m a professional real estate consultant that is passionate about the subject and likes to think outside the box. I, in no way, recommend you make investment or lending decisions based off the content of this writing. It is intended only to open your mind to other possibilities, which I strongly advise discussing with your mortgage, tax and financial professional.

 So you’re shopping for a mortgage. You’ve saved, and researched, and the conventional wisdom says “if you can, get a 15 year mortgage!”

After all, you’ll save thousands in interest via the shorter life of the loan, and you’ll be mortgage free sooner! Plus, interest rates are typically lower for 15 year notes, saving you even more, right?

This advice isn’t necessarily wrong, and, as I often tell my clients, real estate isn’t always black and white. There are many ways to leverage it to your advantage, and this topic is no different. So today, I’m making the case for a 30 year mortgage over its 15 year counterpart. I’ll lay out the reasons I often advise that my clients explore this strategy with their mortgage lenders and financial advisors prior to securing a mortgage loan, along with some real-world examples. I’ll also examine the strategy from the perspective of a typical buyer, as well as a real estate investor.

Let’s dig in. First, let me lay out the typical case FOR the 15 year mortgage, before I examine the alternative:

 Interest Savings

This is the obvious one, and so I’ll start here.

Because interest is paid monthly, for the life of the loan. It stands to reason that when comparing two loans, with the same principal balance and interest rate (more on this in a moment), but with one having half as many payments during its life than the other, the one with the shorter life will net significant interest savings.

For example, let’s say we have two loans with a principal balance of 100K at 3% interest. One is spread over 360 payments (30 years) and the other 180 (15 year). I ran an amortization and below is the summary:

30 Year Note:

Interest paid over life of loan: $51,777

Monthly principal and interest payment: $421

15 Year Note:

Interest paid over life of loan: $24,304

Monthly principal and interest payment: $690

On first examination, you’ll see that with the 15 year note, you are saving $27,473 in interest over the 30 year option, while borrowing the same amount of money, which is excellent. Because you are condensing the principal into a shorter time period, your monthly P&I comes in about $269 higher. Granted, you’re paying off the same principal balance, so this isn’t an added cost per se, but it is a larger monthly obligation (more on that later).

 Lower Interest Rate

Historically, 15 year notes have carried a lower interest rate than their 30 year counterparts. The difference varies, but often this is in the ball park of .5-1%. If we adjusted the interest rate for the 15 year note on the example above to 2.5%, the scenario now looks like this:

15 Year Note:

Interest paid over life of loan: $20,022

Monthly principal and interest payment: $667

Now, you’re saving $31,755 for an increased monthly obligation of only $246 during its repayment period. Nice!

 Shorter Repayment Period

Now I’ll be captain obvious for a moment. 15 years is half as much time as 30 years. Who doesn’t like to be debt free? Aside from saving money, the obvious appeal to a 15 year mortgage is being mortgage free sooner.

OK…. I know what you may be thinking; a 15 year mortgage sounds great – I’m sold! But, wait. Here is where you can get creative. Let’s get to the meat of the topic:

 The Case for a 30 Year Mortgage

 Opportunity Cost

Remember this one from your college finance class? Investopedia defines opportunity cost as “the forgone benefit that would have been derived by an option not chosen.” In the example above, we came to the mathematical conclusion that the 15 year note would save you approximately $31,755 over the loan’s life, with an increased payment obligation of $246 for those 15 years. Imagine you went with the 30 year note and instead invested that $246 monthly at an average rate of return of 7%, which is achievable (remember, the stock market historically averages around 10%). At the end of 15 years, your side investment would be worth approximately $78,000. At this point in your 30 year mortgage, the loan payoff would be approximately $61,000, meaning you could take your investment profits and pay off your 30 year mortgage at year 15, having spent the exact same amount monthly for the past 15 years as the 15 year note, and be left with a profit of $17,000.

Now, of course, I’m generalizing here. There will be some taxes on your investment earnings, reducing that profit some. But, with the right investment, perhaps you achieved a rate of return higher than 7%.

You see where I’m going with this.

You leveraged a 30 year note to achieve a lower total mortgage payment, invested the difference, paid the note off at year 15, and made additional money on your investment, besting the 15 year mortgage by thousands of dollars to your advantage and still becoming mortgage free in the same amount of time. Cool, right?

Yes, this strategy takes discipline, assumes some risk, and is just one simplified example of how you could capitalize on this. Most importantly, it still leaves you with flexibility, should times get tough.

 Payment Flexibility

2020 is a perfect example of why payment flexibility during times of financial stress and uncertainty is worth its weight in gold (or mortgage interest savings). Imagine you bought a house in 2019. Times were good, your job was secure, and the 15 year mortgage seemed like a no brainer for the interest savings over time. Then, the unthinkable happened. Fast forward one year and the COVID-19 pandemic has cost you your job. You picked up new work where you could, but it’s at a fraction of your previous earnings. Suddenly, the last thing on your mind is the potential of savings over decades, or being mortgage free in another 14 years. Your focus is now undoubtedly on paying the mortgage next month, avoiding foreclosure, and keeping a roof over your family’s head. While no one hopes for this situation, it is the sad reality for thousands, if not millions of families affected by the pandemic. That extra $246 a month could be the difference between paying the mortgage at all, or the electric bill, or even groceries and basics, and you might be glad for the lower payment, if you had chosen it.

The 30 year note gives you flexibility to use that money other ways when you need it most. And while we’re on the subject of flexibility, here’s another interesting tidbit to note – if your income recovers and times are better, you can still shorten that 30 year mortgage and save thousands on interest, all without refinancing! How? I’m glad you asked. It’s EASY.

Ever heard of a pre-payment penalty? If you’re a Baby Boomer, or maybe even Generation X, you may have. If you’re a Millennial or Generation Y, you probably haven’t. That’s because they largely don’t exist anymore. A pre-payment penalty is a fee some lenders charge if you pay some or all of mortgage obligation early. It’s supposed to incentivize you to pay the principal back slowly so that the lender doesn’t lose out on collecting all of that glorious interest. The fact that they are largely extinct means you can dial up your principal payments when times are good in order to shorten your mortgage and save on interest.

Bankrate.com has a handy calculator that you can use to see the effect of extra principal payments on your mortgage. You can find it here. Using the example we’ve been referencing throughout this post, if you were to make an extra $100 monthly principal payment, from month one, you would shorten your mortgage loan by 8 years and 2 months and save about $15,000 across the life of the loan. How’s that for flexibility?

 What if you’re an Investor?

So, what if you’re an investor? Well, all the same benefits apply, and there are some additional considerations as well.

Because your tenant is generally covering the debt service, the $246 lower monthly payment for that first 15 years is passed on to you in the form of increased margin. You can do many things with it. Perhaps you could use it to pay down the principal on a higher interest mortgage loan in your portfolio (remember you can shorten your repayment period and save thousands on interest with extra principal payments), or you could invest it, either in financial instruments or additional real estate.

This last point should not be overlooked. If your goal is to continue scaling your real estate portfolio, consider that a 15 year note has a greater impact on your debt-to-income ratio and that lenders may take into account that the cash flow won’t be as strong when considering market rent. Taking this a step further, consider that, in most cases, a 20-25% down payment is required to purchase investment property, and that increased cash-flow may help you acquire more real estate faster, the cumulative effect of which should exceed any interest savings realized by the 15 year note, assuming you make wise selections.

Finally, remember that as an investor, your goal, at a very basic level, is wealth building by having someone else pay the mortgage in exchange for living in the property. If turbulent times were to cause rents to dip significantly, there is always a possibility that rents don’t cover the full debt service (not to mention taxes, insurance, vacancies, etc…) With a 15 year note, there is less margin (literally) for error, at least initially, which can make it higher risk.

 Conclusion

The concepts in this article are simplified and quite condensed, which is intentional. As I was writing, I resisted the urge to spinoff on numerous tangents. Of course there are numerous other factors to consider; tax implications, investment strategy, market conditions, risk tolerance, the list goes on. All in a boundless number of combinations, which is what makes real estate both thrilling and complex.

For many, a 15 year mortgage might be an excellent selection, and I don’t want to downplay its direct benefits, but I hope reading this opened your eyes to the exciting possibilities of real estate and how all is not always as straightforward as it seems.

[popatochisssp]

Obviously no pressure, but if you wanted to share your ideas on house pets, there would be great interest from at least one person. But headcanons are closed and I totally respect that (this very ask aside sorry). No pressure to do anything!!! just wanted to let you know that it seems like fun info.

Sans (Undertale): Strongly inspired by a fantastic fanfiction I can’t recommend enough, he has a cat affectionately named Catsup (Norwegian Forest Cat). Of course he does. Pretty typical story here, he more or less went to a shelter, locked onto the biggest, fattest cat there, and filled out the paperwork to damn her to a life of having a pun for a name. He...may have only gone to the shelter because he was hardcore struggling with depression and his brother read somewhere that pets can help a little, but that's...that’s neither here nor there. Catsup turned out to be a perfect fit for Sans in spite of his initial attitude of, 'I'm only doing this to make Papyrus happy'-- she's probably just about as chill and lazy as the skeleton himself, content to flop over just about anywhere, anytime and hang out. Her laidback nature was a blessing for Sans, a first-time cat-owner who didn't really know what he was doing or what she needed right away. A more high-maintenance cat probably wouldn't have been as forgiving and there'd have been a lot more stress on everybody before he got it figured out. Now, he considers Catsup his best little pal and doesn't even need to be reminded to change out her bowls and her litter. He's surprisingly responsible, when he actually really cares about something.

Catsup’s Quirks: Likes it when you gently slap her belly, always gravitates towards the room with the most people in it, often appears in unusual places that it seems like she shouldn't have been able to get to

Papyrus (Undertale): He...begrudgingly missed working with the Canine Unit once the Royal Guard was officially disbanded... It took him awhile to be able to openly admit he was interested in getting a dog, and when he did, he had standards-- it had to be a smart dog, one that could learn tricks and follow rules, unlike a certain annoying creature that’s plagued his life and home and special attacks in the past!!! So he did a lot of breed research, found a local, ethical breeder for the kind he was looking for, and went to pick out a pup. Spike (Border Collie), so named for his incredible coolness, is a perfect fit for his energetic skeleton friend and loves to run, exercise, and learn new tricks all the time!

Spike’s Quirks: Learned to wipe his feet before coming inside just by watching Papyrus do it, hams up his tricks and sometimes does them without prompting, never leaves the park without an impractically large stick to bring home

Sky (Underswap Sans): You will literally never get him to admit the real reason he got a dog companion because he knows in his heart of hearts that it’s such a silly reason... He saw a video online of a dog delicately eating a watermelon and while most people would’ve had a kneejerk reaction of, “I NEED TEN,” but not gotten any, he had the same reaction and just...talked himself down to one. And so came Poff (Samoyed), a big ol’ floofer who’s a lot like her master when it comes to levels of energy and affection. She’s happy to follow him around on patrols, training sessions, and even through obstacle course...so of course, she tends to get very dirty very quickly. Luckily, Sky’s diligence in grooming her keeps her coat as white and fluffy as her namesake!

Poff’s Quirks:  Loves baths, tap dances at the mention of treats, doesn't chew her toys and just hoards them instead

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): He wasn’t really in the market for a dog, himself. He was just along for the ride when his bro was picking up Poff, when he happened to hear the most hilarious sing-screaming sound he’d ever heard in his life. He followed it all the way to the little fellow who would soon be known as Smoochie (French Bulldog), and he sure seemed upset about...something? He never really figured out why, he was laughing too hard from hearing a sound like that come out of something so small and weird-looking. He didn't try to adopt Smoochie that day, much as he loved his sound, but he found himself going back to the shelter a couple times just to check on and play with him. After two or three months with no one else adopting the little prima-donna, he figured he might as well commit and take him home. He's a fun little dude and Paps hasn't regretted it for a second, but he's forever in denial about just how much of a Dog Dad he's become since. It's totally normal to carry your dog around in the hood of your sweatshirt, isn't it???

Smoochie’s Quirks: Screams a lot, will eat food out of peoples’ hands if they’re not paying attention, jumps higher than it seems like he should be able to

Jasper (Underfell Sans): Like most things in his life, he didn’t put a whole lot of planning or forethought into getting a dog. He was out one night, decently drunk, and a friend of a friend of a friend of a coworker was talking about this dumb dog he had that was supposed to be a guard dog but couldn't do it worth a damn because he was too friendly. The guy was yammering about how to get rid of it and something about that struck a chord with Jasper. It was pretty soon after monsters surfaced and maybe that's why it felt...important to him? He was probably just drunk and emotional and soft that he even stepped in or said anything, but it is what it is. He’s a skilled enough conman that it didn't take him long to talk the guy around in circles until he was willing to pay Jasper for the privilege of taking this animal off his hands and in short order, he was almost bowled over by the big dog that planted its paws on his shoulders at their first meeting. Jasper immediately renamed him from something cliché and 'intimidating' to Tubbs (Rottweiler) for how heavy the goofy bastard was and then brought him right home. His brother wasn't particularly pleased and swore he would not be caring for this beast, but he never had to; Jasper kinda missed having something trusting and affectionate to take care of, and Tubbs has been daddy's little fatty ever since.

Tubbs’ Quirks: Shreds even the heaviest duty toys, lays on people as if he were a lap dog, drools rivers if somebody's eating food around him

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): Who am I to defy literal years of fanon...? His first meeting with Doomfanger (Persian) was about as clichéd as it gets-- a scrawny, dingy, scraggly and matted cat scurrying out of an alley in the rain. She went right up to him and, well... it was love at first mew. He scooped her right up, bestowed a fittingly intimidating name upon her, and took her home with him, in spite of the fact that she looked more like a mutant rat than a cat at the time. After shaving the mats off, bathing the dirt away, and getting her some regular food, though, Doomy actually ends up being an exceedingly beautiful feline! He credits his attentive care and grooming for her pristine, silvery fluff and will brag about it at a moment's notice, but he's just ever so slightly in denial about her sweet and gentle nature. Doomfanger is a vicious killing machine, a true apex predator that nothing stands a chance against! That's...that’s obviously why he carries her around so much... And why he plucks her away from any other animal that comes near her like some sort of mother hen-- he's minimizing the bloodshed! If he let her loose, there would be no survivors!

Doomfanger’s Quirks: Meows in peeps, avid shadow-chaser, extremely receptive to handling

Mal (Swapfell Sans): Hey, anyone remember FGTC? This one cameo’d in that fic, she may seem familiar~ So...he wanted a pet. At first, he thought a cat would be good, fierce independent hunters that they’re reputed to be...but after spending time with a lot of cats and not really clicking with any, he was forced to concede that he was just more of a dog person. In hindsight, of course that’s what he was looking for: a loyal companion to (literally, ha!) dog his steps and follow his orders. Before he can actually, intentionally start looking for one, though, the universe works its magic and he finds one digging around in the garbage out behind the house. The emergency vet he brings the scarred and skeletal stray to tells him that, judging by her injuries, she was probably bait in some dog-fighting ring somewhere and got thrown away when she wasn’t useful anymore. Well. Fuck that, Princess (Pitbull) deserves better than that, and she’ll have it! He takes on the duty of nursing her back to health and earning her trust and it isn’t long before she shows her true colors as the loviest sweetheart of a dog that ever was. She’s utterly useless as an attack/guard dog, but her barks are loud and intimidating, and she obeys commands at the drop of a hat, so Mal doesn’t hold that against her. She goes with him just about anywhere she’s allowed and he shows her off with the same enthusiasm you’d expect for a pedigreed Best in Show dog.

Princess’ Quirks: Wags with her entire butt, will kiss the moment someone’s face is in range, barks at doorbells both real and on TV

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): He didn’t mean to get a cat, not really... He was just following along with his brother when Mal was kicking around the idea of getting one, and Mal may not have clicked with anybody there, but he sure did. Actually... Kitkat (Manx) may have picked him and he’s just along for the ride. Kitkat was kinda young at the time, a little smaller than all the rest and also...no tail??? But what a personality, loud and playful and super sweet and...when it was time to leave the shelter, he just...he couldn’t bring himself to do it without her, he was in love! It’s mutual, at least-- she latched right onto him pretty much instantly and is pretty much never not with him whenever he’s at home, following him around from room-to-room.

Kitkat’s Quirks: Bone-rattlingly loud purrs, loves to play fetch, prone to 3AM zest for life and zooming all around the house accordingly

Slate (Horrortale Sans): I actually wrote about this one! But the gist of it is...he likes cats. Eventually got confident enough to go get one and zeroed right in on the weirdest-looking, least adoptable cat in the shelter he volunteers at. Slinky (Cornish Rex) was deaf, kinda ugly, and a whole lotta weird, but hell, she’ll fit right in at home, yeah? And so she does! She wrecks a lotta shit and is loud as hell, but stuff is only stuff and Slate’s never had an issue with noise. Actually...she really helps him out with his sleep and focus issues, it’s hard to drop off or dissociate when you have a cat in your lap, yelling at you at batting your face because it’s Play Time or Dinner Time, wake the fuck up!!! She’s a bastardous gremlin, but he loves her to bits.

Slinky’s Quirks: Clumsy and bad at judging distances, loves ankle-looping, insists on sniffing all people-food but never actually tries to eat it

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): Following the trauma of the underground and the ensuing massive outpouring of empathy from humanity at large, monsters were made aware of many therapeutic resources that they could take advantage of, one of which was therapy animals. Papy naturally thought this was a wonderful idea...for other monsters, who were of course far more psychologically-damaged and not quite so good at enduring as himself. But...his brother does volunteer at an animal shelter, and he goes to visit him on occasion so he's made friends with a lot of animal people. This is how he hears about a therapy dog in need of a new forever-home due to complicated circumstances with her former owner, and well... it would be rude not to offer the Lady (Borzoi) a place to stay! He’s surprised by her appearance at first, having expected something more like a golden retriever or some kind of shepherd??? But he's very quickly charmed by her and actually feels more than a little bit of kinship with her no stranger to being long and oddly proportioned, himself-- and they're both doing their best to make it look graceful instead of weird. Since Lady proves to be a sweet and gentle-mannered dog, Papy just sort of...never bothers trying to find other accommodations for her. She’s welcomed wholeheartedly into their home, which she repays with plenty of unconditional love and effortless emotional support!

Lady’s Quirks: Spins in circles when excited, very polite when begging for table scraps, never barks but howls often

[glasyasbutch]

Stella: 13 Roona: 22 Gent: 30

prose boys part one! prose boys part one! under a readmore bc its almost 2k words! thanks for sending them in rebekah i did full scenes for each prompt bc im a whore. bolded are the actual “things they said”.

Stella: Things you said that were important to you (set about six months after her clan’s home in the wood is razed to the ground, and she’s just found herself fully indoctrinated to the nearby city’s criminal ring as an assassin)

Her hands are small, even relative to the rest of her, which as a gnome, is much tinier than most people walking these streets. It's usually an advantage. Makes it all the more simple to just slide her hand into someone's pocket while they were preoccupied at the food cart. Snag a coin while they ordered, snag a hunk of bread while they paid.

She isn't proud of it. She doesn't like having to penny pinch other people's pennies to get by between jobs. But she likes starving to death less, so she swallows her damn pride and got down to it.

The problem is that the figure she’s trying to rob is also a gnome, which means her hands are not nearly as relatively small as she’s used to them being, and she manages to get her thumb caught on the edge of his pocket as she pulls away. His hand is around her wrist before she has a chance to react, grip terrifyingly tight.

"Pardon me, but I don't believe anything in my pockets belongs to - Ester?"

The fake tears she's been trying to push out begin to well up for real, turning her into a breathless, glassy-eyed mess, and she looks into a face she thought she'd never be seeing again. "Gray?"

Gray drops his grip on her wrist, only to clasp her hand between his protectively. "Ester, what are you doing out here doing this?"

She finds her knees start to buckle, and she pushes her weight into Gray's hands a bit to stay standing. "The fire, Gray, I barely made it out, I just ran in the first direction I saw. I ended up here, and when I looked back it was nothing but smoke. I only had my bow with me and I - I thought I was the only one who made it out. I didn't know what to do. I'm just trying to survive in a world I wasn't raised to live in."

Gray's eyebrows furrow, his expression sinks. He reaches his other hand out to grip the side of her face. "There's at least three of us who made it out. I left with Reddy, but he took off from this town a few weeks ago. I was starting to get lonely, but ... then I find you." He smiles, in the crooked sort of way that happens when loss starts to slip through the cracks of joy. "You can do better than this, Es. We're still clan. My house is still your house. Come back with me, at the very least 'til you get on your feet."

"Gray, no, really, I couldn't," she starts, but gets cut off as he begins to tut and takes his hand from her cheek to grip her other hand.

He pushes back her sleeve with his fingers, unintentionally, ever so slightly. He isn't even looking, but it's still enough to make her gasp and stiffen. That, he does notice, and gods damn it, he glances down.

Their clan is from the woods. They don't know a lot of city culture, but the symbol tattooed on her wrist, still slightly red from its freshness, is one of the things they have to recognize. Its something they know damn well to avoid, because these men who take shelter in the woods some nights, with these symbols emblazoned on their wrists and sword scabbards and coin pouches, setting off their hunting traps for fun and leaving their empty booze bottles behind when they go and not putting their fires out properly, are the kind of men who know no rule or law or code, and show no mercy when they feel they've been crossed.

"Ester," he says, voice darkening. "You can do better than this."

She tears her wrist away, tugging her sleeve back down. "My business is my own, Gray."

"As is my home, if you've chosen to turn your back on everything we lived for so quickly."

"I was hungry. I was going to die out here. I don't have many marketable skills, but they saw something worth a paycheck in me."

Gray says nothing, but drops her hands from his with a sharpness that can only indicate disgust.

"You can do better than this," he repeats. Then, for a brief moment, his gaze softens. "I hope you do."

She makes no move to stop him as he turns to go, walking with as big a stride as his gnomish legs can let him, vanishing into the crowded streets. She rubs at her wrist, letting the sting of pressing on the fresh tattoo distract her from the sinking feeling in her gut as one of the last survivors of her clan willingly turns his back on her. She had always figured she had no one left, but now she’s looking right at him and she knows it.

"I'm gonna," she whispers at the space where he has been standing, making up her mind to get back what scraps of her family she still has left. "I'm gonna get out of there, eventually. Swear on the trees."

*****

Roona: Things you said after making a bad decision.

"Vinny Vinny Vinny Vinny Vinny!" Roona pants, running so fast she nearly trips over her feet, "Pouch pouch pouch pouch please please please!"

They tug at the loose piece of leather fixed around their traveling companion's waist, barely waiting for acknowledgement of their presence before scrambling up the leg into the pouch and pulling the flaps closed, trying to look as much like a lute as possible.

Now, most lutes arent quite so lumpy, because they don't have knees to tuck in, and they don't swell and sink because they don't have lungs that are heaving from the mad dash they've just undertaken. But, however much like a lute she doesn't look, Roona supposes the ruse has worked, because no one sticks a sword straight into the flaps and the shrill complaining voice eventually huffs its way out of earshot.

"Is the purple dress lady gone?" she whispers, pulling one very small peep hole open in the mouth of the pouch.

"Yeah," Vinny sighs, still debating whether or not she wants to know what happened this time.

"Okay, good." Roona's head fully emerges from the pouch now, braids more mussed than usual and face still flushed reddish from exertion. They flash a forced smile up at Vinny. "So, don't get mad but. Um."

It seems, whether or not Vinny wants to know, Roona's gonna be telling her anyway.

"You know that really fancy dress shop down the road? I was over there window shopping, you know, like you do. And, well, I went inside, cause they had this really nice yellow thing and this other dress with lilac trim, and I wanted to know how they'd look together? Um?"

Vinny's lips press together, knowing exactly where this story's going.

"So I, uh, I grabbed a pair of shears, and I took a little bit of the trim off the back of the skirt? I mean, it's the back right, no one's gonna see, and it's not like they ever sell the mannequin models anyways, but. For SOME reason, the dress lady didn't like that."

"Roona. C'mon."

She sighs, brushing a few loose hairs out of her face. "No, no. I know. I ... I know. Like, actually. Sometimes people are just stuck up dickheads about their stuff, but like, this one I get. I'll go apologize in the morning, probably. Once she's had the chance to forget where she's left the fabric shears again."

They begin to pull themself out of the pouch, but stop with one leg dangling out over the lip. "On a totally unrelated note. Can I pitch you on a mix and match dress shop?"

*****

Gent: Things you said when you should've been quiet

"Gods," he huffs, flipping over what he's pretty sure is the third page of sigils for what he's significantly less sure is the fifth time. "You really think an archmage with a lifespan like his and absolutely no friends to hang out with would be able to find the time to write a damn key for his notes. Wenceforth! C'mere. Do you know what the fuck these double lines are supposed to be mean?"

The goblin starts at the mention of his name, trotting over on creaky joints from the post he'd be standing by the door. He slips on a pair of glasses, and peers over the piece of paper being held out for him. He spends a good minute tracing a finger across the ink, grumbling and mumbling to himself before turning to face Gent and announcing, very definitely, "No!"

Gent groans and slumps even further in the chair than he has been.

"You've known him forever, Wenceforth, has he always been this illiterate? I mean, god, for all the griping he does at me about penmanship making the difference between a Dancing Light and a Flaming Sphere, you'd think he'd care literally at all about how his own fucking notes look."

"Well, Master Errenis is quite a learned mage, you know, he's really quite skilled, but uh. Between you and me. He's always been a bit more meticulous with his notes since. Well."

Gent immediately shoots up, leaning over the arm of his chair to stare down Wenceforth. "Since what, Wence? You can't just leave me hanging here, man."

"Oh, you know, I don't really want to embarrass him or anything," he mumbles, anxious grin twitching onto his face.

"Oh come on! Please? I'll pay you the rest of my weeks stipend, Wence, I need to know what could've possibly embarrassed Yussah bad enough to change his wizardly ways."

"Oh, all right," he chuckles, leaning in, "but you didn't hear it from me. One time, good few years back, Master Yussah was studyin' this little ball thing, and got himself stuck inside. Had to call in a bunch of his wizard friends to get him back out. And they, ah, barely made it too, I heard, 'cause his map notes were just ... unintelligible."

"You're kidding, Wence? He got stuck. In a ball."

"Sure did, sure did! Had to call that pretty Taldorei lady myself to fix it all up."

"You had to get Arcanist Vysoren to get Yussah out of a ball?" Gent reaches for the goblins shoulders and gives them a good hard squeeze. "Thank you so much for telling me, Wence. You are truly the only man I have ever cared about in my life."

"Come now, surely he's not the only one." someone drawls from the doorway behind Gent.

Gent spins around in the chair, placating grin half way through stretching across his face. "Master Errenis, hello, how are you doing, did you need a hand with something, hope I haven't kept you waiting?"

Yussah gives a wry laugh. "I've been waiting in this doorway long enough, Ms. Avoris. Gossiping about my handwriting won't get those wards copied any faster."

Gent presses his lips together, turning (relatively) apologetically back to his work. Yussah motions for Wenceforth to follow him out of the room, starting to describe some spell components he needed dug out of storage. He stops in the doorway, just to be sure Gent is still in earshot.

"I have got to get that kid to see some other wizards. Let him study with someone really old and crazy, like Waccoh. Then see how he feels about my damn notes."

*****