#kind of a prep to brainstorm something bigger for these two

[flipomatic]

Sharp

As Ena watched Mizuki pose in front of the mirror, lifting a finger delicately to their chin in a clearly practiced gesture, she wondered how she had never noticed before. How could she have missed the occasional sharpness in their grin and the quiver of emotion in their eyes. It was impossible for her to look away now, to cast her eyes from the complexity of Mizuki’s gaze.

It was there in this very moment, lurking just beneath the surface as Mizuki picked up a light pink hair clip they found at the store. The flash of something that Ena had long missed, some emotion that she couldn’t place.

“I know I’m cute, no need to stare.” Mizuki chuckled, snapping Ena from her thoughts. They had turned away from the mirror and back towards her. They reached up to remove the new clip, flipping it over in their hand.

Ena scoffed, rolling her eyes slightly. “I wasn’t staring.” She protested, despite knowing quite well that she had been. It couldn’t be helped, the worry she felt for her friend. When Mizuki lifted one eyebrow in blatant disbelief, Ena continued. “You should get that; it looks good on you.”

A smile eased over Mizuki’s lips as they cast their gaze back to the object in question. “You’re right, I think I will.” They said, closing their hand around the clip. Their expression was soft now, the sharpness from before having vanished.

Ena’s concern hadn’t, as she continued walking through the store with them.

Now that she had noticed, ever since the group trip, she always did. Each time her worry grew, nestling deeper in her chest.

When she asked, Mizuki said they were alright. For now, that would have to be enough.

[gingersnaaps]

making things right

you and iwaizumi just aren't meant to be, and if he has to fuck some sense into your little brain for you to understand, then so be it.

wc: 2.8k

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): noncon, explicit n*fw, blackmail, emotional manipulation, emotional sadism, dumbification, degradation, fem!reader with inner genitals, has something resembling an actual plot

a/n: i couldn't decide which way i wanted to go with the plot, so i just did both. read a darker version of this here

i don't want minors interacting with my content

Oikawa really doesn’t like how much time Iwaizumi has been spending around you lately.

It’s not that he’s jealous, of course - that kind of pettiness is far beneath him - it just doesn’t seem right. It’s not the natural order of things for someone as pretty as you, all soft skin and glowing smiles, to be practically draped around Iwaizumi all the fucking time.

He’s counted, you know, and today was the thirty-eighth time that you’ve visited their lunch table and somehow ended up on Iwaizumi’s lap.

And doesn’t he also have to think of his team? The Spring Interhigh’s coming up, and it wouldn’t do for one of the most important players on the team to be constantly distracted. He’s seen the way Iwaizumi looks at you: it’s adoration encapsulated in a gaze, the kind of tenderness and admiration that he’s only ever seen Iwaizumi direct at himself.

Oikawa’s going to have to fix this, isn’t he? He’s going to have to make everything the way it should be.

-

He finds that he enjoys the constant planning and brainstorming and especially the fantasizing far more than he’d anticipated.

Oikawa notes down which days you go home immediately after school, which days you stay, and the routes you take home. He writes down all your friends in a little notebook, familiarizes himself with the classes you take, and pays extra attention to your mood swings.

Of course, as he spends more and more time detailing every aspect of your life, it’s only natural for his thoughts to… wander. In class, he catches his own attention drifting away from Japanese literature to thoughts of what you’d look like strung out on his cock, eyes squeezing out tears as he stuffs you full and claims your pussy. He thinks about how slutty your skirt looks when you’re bending over, and about how much he’d like to rip it off of you. He likes to imagine how Iwaizumi would react, too - the way he’d cry and sob and finally understand that you don’t belong with someone like him.

He finds that these thoughts allow him to tolerate Iwaizumi’s presence near you a lot better, even though the two of you have only grown closer as of late. When you start getting particularly obnoxious with your flirting, he just has to picture you screaming in pain as he fucks you dry, or think about the bulge in your throat from his cock shoved deep inside your mouth. And when he sees Iwaizumi finally ask you out on a date to the ramen place nearby, he almost feels sorry for how short-lived, how temporary, your romance is going to be.

As the weeks go by and the Interhigh draws near, Oikawa thinks he’s got a pretty good idea of how to make it happen.

It starts off almost too easy.

Oikawa’s usually the one who stays late after practice, slamming his serves into the opposite end of the court until his vision goes dizzy and his arms turn numb. But Iwaizumi - bless his generosity - had planned on staying after to help a few of the first years out with their serves.

He waits at the school gates, scanning the entrance for any sign of you. You should be finishing up with your little club soon if the notes he’d been keeping were any indication, and sure enough, he spots your bright teal jacket scurrying towards the gates after just a few minutes.

Oikawa plasters on his friendliest smile, waving you towards him. “Hey,” he greets. “Iwa-chan told me to wait for you today. Do you want to come over? He’ll be along in just a minute - he’s just cleaning up the gym a bit.”

“Aren’t you the captain?” you tease. “So much for being responsible.”

He forces out a laugh. Do you realize how insufferable you are? Because you’re really not doing yourself any favors with the way you’re acting. But he pushes down the surge of anger that threatens to spill over, because he knows you’ll change your tune as soon as you arrive at his place.

He can’t wait.

The walk home is filled with empty banter, useless conversation that flits back and forth on the most boring of topics. To be honest, Oikawa appreciates this - it gives him the mental room to think about much more interesting things, like the way your breasts are pushing against the jacket, or the slight sheen of your lip gloss. Or, alternatively, the way your breasts would look spilling out of his hands, and the way your shiny lips would look smeared with spit and cum.

He places a hand on your waist as he guides you inside his house, but you stiffen. “Isn’t Hajime supposed to have caught up to us by now?” you ask.

Hajime.

First name basis, huh?

It’s a small detail, but it’s the kind of change that has him seeing red at the periphery of his vision, the kind that makes him want to ruin your slutty body until it's bruised and leaking cum. He’s been friends with Iwaizumi for twelve years. Twelve years, and all he’s gotten from him is a nickname. You’ve known him for barely a fucking year, and here you are, sauntering away with his first name.

His hand on your waist tightens, gripping and squeezing at your lovely flesh until he can feel you wince in pain. “I’m afraid it might be a while,” he says, voice brittle.

“What do you mean?” you ask, turning around, your eyes widening.

Oikawa shoves you inside and slams the door. “I mean,” he hisses. “That your precious Hajime won’t be coming around anytime soon.”

Panic rises in your throat, but he slaps a hand over your mouth quicker than you can scream. All that escapes is a strangled cry, weak and thin, one that quickly dies out in the entrance hall of his house. It’s much too quiet to reach any neighbors, you realize with a sinking feeling. The last bit of faint hope you harbor in the back of your mind dies when you realize that there’s no concerned housewife coming to check on the commotion, no fumbling child who might stumble in on you and Oikawa. You’re alone. You’re fucked.

He’d made sure of it.

“Bitches like you are so stupid, aren’t you? Making me spell everything out for you.” His voice drips condescension as he yanks you by the hair towards the bedroom. There’s no reason to put up an act anymore, he thinks, so he can be as rough as he wants with his new toy - he just has to make sure he returns you in one piece to Iwaizumi. Oikawa’s sure he won’t mind if you’re a little beat up around the edges, a little used by the end of this.

As he throws you down on the bed, the thought gives him immense satisfaction. You’d been so eager to do things with Iwaizumi - he’d coaxed out embarrassed confessions from his friend over late-night calls - so he’s almost sure that you’re a needy slut during sex.

Of course, you’re not nearly so eager now, not when he’s holding your squirming body down on the bed.

“You do realize that this is what you get, right? It’s your fault for being this fucking easy. Should’ve thought a bit harder about going home with me. Did your mommy and daddy never teach you to not trust men?” he says, face curling into a smile.

You’re unable to get a word out, mouth dry and cottony from the fear that pierces you. He watches your eyes flicker between the bulge in his pants and his face, uncertain and wary, like a deer caught in headlights. Oikawa can’t help the sick pleasure that bubbles up within him at the look on your face.

“Please,” you say hoarsely. “Please.”

“You have to use your words, you know. You could be begging me to stop, but I think you like this. I think you’re begging me to get on with it,” he says.

Maybe he’s taking it a step too far with the dramatics, but he can’t bring himself to tone it down - not when he’s right about to get to the good bit, and certainly not when he sees those pretty tears trickling down your face.

He looks you up and down appraisingly. He’d always thought you were rather pretty, with your soft halo of hair and your glittering smile - but he can’t deny that there’s a special sort of charm in the way you fidget uncomfortably under his gaze.

It makes him hungry.

As he spreads your thighs apart, all he can think about is how much he wants to claim you, to ruin you, because that’s what he imagines fucking you is like: ownership and victory spread on his tongue while your juices drench his cock. All the filthy dreams he’s had, every fantasy he’s gotten off to late at night, and the stifling heat spreading through his core is begging him to fuck you, to ravish your tight hole until the only name you know is his own.

He doesn’t really want to bother with prep. He’s sure that stretching you out on three - no, maybe four fingers until you scream would be fun, but you don’t deserve that kind of special treatment. Aren’t sluts like you supposed to be wet all the time anyway?

You can feel the outline of his dick dragging along your soft thighs, pressing close to your cunt, a breathy moan escaping his lips from the friction of his sweatpants grinding against your body. It’s not long before he pulls his cock out all the way and strokes it a few times. He grabs at your hips, maneuvering you like a rag doll, and fits the tip of his cock at your fluttering entrance. Nudging at your hole, he pushes in just the head of his cock - enough so you can feel the sting of his girth, but not nearly deep enough to offer any real relief.

You whine involuntarily, and a grin lights up his face. “You’re desperate, aren’t you?” he asks, dragging a thumb against your lips. “Is it because Iwa-chan doesn’t fuck you well enough? Is his pathetic dick too small to fill up that hole of yours properly?” he leers. “I’ve seen his cock before… mine’s bigger, you know.”

“Fuck you,” you mumble. You’re dizzy from the fear and panic that clouds your brain, but anger still seeps into your veins at his crude words.

Maybe if your head was a bit clearer, you would’ve realized that only stupid girls talk back.

Oikawa’s hips snap into yours harshly, his cock tearing at your insides, and you let out a strangled gasp. You’re not prepared for how well his cock stretches you out - it’s curved in all the right places, ramming into your cervix, brushing up against your tender g-spot - and as he ruthlessly pounds your frail body into the mattress, your mind blanks, overloaded with sensation. You can’t remember who you are, or why you’re getting fucked. The only thing on your mind is the raw feeling of being cunt split wide open, of having your insides rearranged until you’re a drooling, dumb mess.

“Fuck who?” he asks, shoving two fingers inside your sloppy mouth,

“F- fuck…” you whisper. His fingers are gripping at your hips so tightly you can feel the skin beginning to bruise, and there’s just too much to handle. He’s everywhere; his fingers probe around your mouth, making you gag, and his cock drags along your tender walls until you’re left quivering around his length.

He leans down to kiss at your forehead, his lips brushing tenderly against your hair. “You can do it, baby,” he encourages, cooing at you. “You can say it.”

“Fuck me,” you whimper quietly, cheeks burning with shame.

“Good girl,” he says, voice sickly sweet. “I knew you could do it for me.”

Fucking you feels so much better once you’re compliant, he thinks. He slows down a bit, savoring the sensation of your cunt twitching uselessly while you writhe on the bed in pleasure. He feels a sharp jolt of arousal as he looks at the marks he’s left all over you, admiring how the angry bruises on your hips and waist are beginning to purple.

You tug at his shirt, sniffling and crying. “Please,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re asking for anymore, not even sure whether you want Oikawa to stop or continue, but you can’t handle the way he’s slowly fucking you senseless.

He raises an eyebrow. “You want it faster?” he asks cruelly, bouncing you into his cock. There’s no response on your end, but Oikawa thinks he’ll take that as a yes. And if that’s what you want?

Well, that’s what you get.

The hum of pleasure in your core intensifies as he picks up speed again. This time, he angles his cock until it grinds down harshly on your sensitive spot, leaving your legs limp and body helpless as your cunt tightens like a vice. As you shudder from the orgasm that washes over you, he spills into your pussy until your hole is leaking white down your thighs.

You can feel him laughing softly as he pulls out and climbs to rest beside you, leaving you stuck in a pool of your own sweat and cum and. He wipes the remaining cum off of his cock, smearing it on your face, but you barely react. You feel so dirty, so tainted and violated, but you’re not sure you could move even if you tried - his cock has left you boneless and made sure that every square inch of your body is sore and aching.

“Well,” he says, breathless. “Better run home unless you want Iwa-chan to know you’ve been all used up.”

Hajime? Your eyes widen, welling up with tears.

Oikawa unlocks the phone in his hand and presses play.

The sounds that echo through the empty room make you feel like screaming, because there’s no denying the solid, tangible proof that’s being played back. Your breathy moans are clear as day, and it’s unmistakable when you hear yourself begging Oikawa to fuck you harder, faster, to split you apart on his cock.

With a sinking feeling, you know there’s no explanation that would ever satisfy Hajime if he heard this audio. You can already see the pain in his eyes if he were to find out that his best friend for the past twelve years had ruined you, fucked you so thouroughly that you could barely tell the difference between pain and pleasure.

You don’t want that, you realize miserably. You can’t have that.

“I’m not going to send it,” he says. He sees hope creep into your expression, as if you’re almost daring to believe that you could go back to your normal life after this little session, but he doesn’t feel any pity for you when he speaks again.

“Not if you stay away.”

You and Hajime don’t belong together anyway, so why would he be sorry?

Your eyes drop as you inhale shakily. Oikawa watches you fumble around for your clothing, entertained by the way you trip and stumble as your weak legs attempt to hold you upright. It makes for an awkward, ugly image - but he can’t deny the warm thrill of satisfaction that runs up his spine as you slink out of his bedroom.

He’s finally making things right.

-

When you go to school the next day, you’re glad that you don’t have any classes with Hajime for the first time ever. It makes it easier to avoid him, and you purposely choose to sit as far away as possible from their table in the lunchroom. You don’t bother responding to his messages either, every single text of his sending a bitter jolt of pain through you, and you eventually block his number.

Weeks later, you’re not sure he’d believe you even if you were to explain everything. What would you even say? That you’d been ignoring him and ghosting him because his best friend of twelve years had raped and blackmailed you? That someone he knows and trusts was capable of devastating violence? Oikawa and him seem closer than ever, and you start to wonder at your own stupidity. To think that you could ever get in between a bond as close as theirs - maybe Oikawa was right all along.

You’re walking home alone one day, the hazy late-day sun bathing the roads in a shimmering heat, when you hear footsteps and a voice behind you. Your heart hammers unsteadily, getting ready to run, when you hear three words that make your stomach drop.

“I’ve missed you.”

[bereft-of-frogs]

Doctor Strange, Antman and the Wasp, Avengers Infinity War and Loki

I hope those are not too many :-)

not at all!

doctor strange - describe the process that leads up to publishing your fics. do you outline the whole thing? obsessively edit it? create moodboards?

It definitely depends! There are like 3 tiers:

- most complicated: aka multiple outlines/drafts - ex. ‘alone amidst the ruins’. For big complicated things I like making multiple outlines, usually one ‘conversational’ one right at the top of the document where I in paragraph form explain the plot like I’m explaining the plot to a friend, then a point-by-point plot outline (like A. Prologue....i. scene one...B. Chapter One...i. scene one...ii. scene two....), then a ‘worst’ draft, and a second/final draft. I usually do all the prep work and the first draft in Scrivener, and then the second draft back in Pages

- medium: similar to the first, except it’s all in Pages, the ‘point-by-point plot outline’ is in [brackets] right in the document. This is the most common.

- easiest: I usually just like....have the idea, write the idea, for the short fics (and also the not-so-short but kind of scary ones where I’m like ‘hm idea’ and then like 12 hours later I have 6k words and am like....’uhhh ok thanks brain u ok?’. ex. ‘the sleepwalkers’ iirc...haven’t had one of those in a while, I miss them). I’ll often write it out of order, starting with the most vivid scenes and then going back and filling in plot-necessary info

For all fics, I usually just reread a few times (until it gets to the point where I’m like ‘oh no it’s boring’), then format for AO3 in the google doc script thing, but even then I usually still have to go through and fix italics but that’s okay because the change in font usually makes random typos start to stand out, then I turn on Grammarly for a last typo pass (lol or really, let’s be real, rethinking some of those commas pass...) and then post! and run away. XD

I don’t really make moodboards...I do often research stuff while brainstorming/while the idea is percolating. A few I have actually read nonfiction books for inspiration (’alone amidst the ruins’, the medieval-ish fantasy AU). I do feel like I need a new way to get inspired for a couple fics I’m feeling like are sort of slogs/I’m stuck, maybe I’ll consider moodboards. Or playlists.

I don’t know, for people who do make moodboards or other creative inspiration for fics, any advice?

ant-man and the wasp - what’s your favorite type of comment to recieve?

I mean here’s where I should say ‘all comments’ because technically yes, all comments, even just short ones, but yes the best comments are the long ones with yelling and where you can tell the reader was really engaged. I’m most likely to respond to those because, that one post going around is true, honestly it’s not about just getting comments, I mostly just want to yell about my fics. XD (I’m sorry if I haven’t responded - there’s one in particular right now in my inbox I’ve been meaning to respond to for like...several weeks, maybe I’ll do that when I get back from my run.)

avengers: infinity war - do you have any fanfic recs?

I glanced through my bookmarks which are a mess but you can trawl through there. I usually respond with ‘he’s been dead for years’ because I still think it’s one of the best concept+executions of a fic I’ve ever seen (and also #calledout it is sooo accurate when I first read it I had to check whether or not it was roleplaying). And also unironically whenever someone asks me about depictions of death/funerals in media, internally I think ‘**sob** jacob and esau say their goodbyes’ before out-loud saying something about like...The Haunting of Hill House or whatever XD

loki - what’s the most outlandish (or it could just be your favorite) au you’ve ever read/wanted to write/thought of?

Hmmm. I don’t usually do big AUs unless there’s a reason for it, which is how I ended up with the “all-human AU” **cough** of dark underground//violent sky, I guess the medieval-ish fantasy AU is the most dramatic I’ve ever written. I’m honestly a bigger fan of dramatic canon divergence AUs. I would like to finish my ‘Loki wins Avengers 1′ AU one day, or the Sam/Bucky apocalypse AU (where the other set of people get snapped) but inspiration has currently stalled, I’m trying to be patient with it. :-)

[mcu asks]

[something-tofightfor]

Just a Place - Part 7

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader

Word Count: 8900

Rating: M (language)

Summary: Thanksgiving and Christmas with Ryan Brenner - enough said.

** You will not understand a darn thing in this if you haven’t read “Neon Lights”, which can be found on my Masterlist page **

Author’s Note: Another long chapter to make up for it being a long time since I last updated... enjoy. 

Feel free to ask me to add you!

Tag list: @traeumerinwitzhelden @mfackenthal @songtoyou @obscurilicious @elanor-of-imladris @thesumofmychoices @suchatinyinfinity @audreychaz @benbarnestongue @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @the-blind-assassin-12 @ms-delos @lexxierave @dreams-with-thoughts @gollyderek @agentlingerie

POV - You 

 You pushed the cart through the crowded grocery store, trying to keep from blowing up at the people in your way. Yep, the middle of the aisle is the perfect place for your conversation. You rolled your eyes, turning the corner and slamming the brakes on to avoid running into a woman tugging her young child behind her by one hand. “Shit!” You said it quietly, but the woman still gave you a look and you returned it with a scowl, waiting until she’d disappeared down the aisle you’d just turned out of before continuing, scanning the path in front of you for a familiar tan coat. Get in, get out, get home. That’s what I said, and now… 

 Finally, you found Ryan standing in front of the canned vegetables, a frown of his own on his face. “What’s wrong, Ry?” He shook his head, turning to look at you. “We need corn, so…” 

 “My Ma used to make this… thing. She called it corn puddin’ when I was a kid, and I haven’t had it in years. But I don’t know the recipe.” Despite your annoyance at the crowded grocery store, you felt yourself smile, adjusting the cart so that it was right next to the shelves. “You don’t…”

 “Corn casserole?” You raised an eyebrow. “Ryan, that was a staple at my Thanksgiving dinners growing up. I can’t promise it’ll be exactly the same, but I can try.” His lips parted as he looked at you in surprise and you continued. “As long as you don’t mind regular corn, too, I have to have something to mix in with my potatoes and gravy.” He laughed, nodding. “We’ll need both kinds.” You looked at your list, chewing on your lip. “I’d say… six cans of creamed and five regular? I’ll make a double batch.” You paused as he reached for the cans, pulling one of the partially empty packing boxes off of the shelf and setting it down on the bottom of the cart before placing cans neatly into it. “And I guess an extra five cans of the regular, too, we’ll need it.” He nodded, counting silently, moving lips the only thing giving him away. 

 “We’re gonna have enough food for an army.” Though he said it in a joking manner, you didn’t dispute him - he was right. We kind of have to. “Alright, there we go.” He stood up straight, pointing. “Beans next?” You nodded, pulling the cart back a foot or so so that it was positioned beneath the picked-over green bean shelf space, stacking another twenty cans of those in the bottom of the cart. I’m going to be cooking for a week straight.  “Where now?” Ryan’s quiet voice cut into your thoughts and you blinked at him, thinking. 

 “Gotta go bet bacon and milk… butter…” You pressed your lips together, hands tightening on the handle of the cart. “Turkey’s already at the house thawing... “ 

 “Potatoes?” He grinned at you. “You said yesterday you needed your weight in mashed potatoes and stuffing.” You giggled at him and nodded. “Alright. Go.” He gestured toward the end of the aisle and you moved to turn the cart, groaning out loud as you had to stop yet again for a woman on her cell phone that was leaning on the handle of her cart, hip stuck out and blocking the entire aisle. “Hey.” Ryan reached out, touching your arm. “Let me push. You’re gonna kill someone.” I am. Gladly. You gestured to the handle of the cart and stepped aside, Ryan moving next to you and leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. “I love it when you’re annoyed at someone that’s not me.” Your lips again twitched into a small smile as he turned the cart smoothly, stopping just before the woman. “‘Scuse me, ma’am.” She looked up, her eyes widening as she saw Ryan. “Need to get past you.” Without pause, the woman stepped aside, her eyes never leaving Ryan’s face, teeth digging into her lower lip as her conversation stopped Figures. Typical. 

 Feeling slightly petty, you stepped next to him, linking your arm with his and smirking as you passed her. Ryan shook his head next to you but didn’t say anything, clearing his throat and stepping into the main aisle before turning toward the dairy section. “We need to make a stop in the beer aisle too, Ryan.” This time, he laughed, even as you dropped your arm from his and stepped in front of him, glancing over your shoulder. “It’s not Thanksgiving unless you get drunk while you’re cooking.” 

 An hour later, you were unpacking the groceries in your kitchen, Ryan arranging the cold foods in the second refrigerator while you carefully packed boxes and packages into the cupboards and cabinets to pull out as you needed them. “Hey.” He stepped back into the room, phone in his hand. “Matt wants to know if he can bring his girl, I know we didn’t -”

 “Of course.” You grinned, nodding. “So that’ll make what, nine plus us?” He thought for a few moments before agreeing. “Space will be tight for them all to stay, but we’ve got the couch, and some air mattresses, and…” 

 “That’s not a problem, none of us are used to… well.” He paused, eyeing you. “I’m used to our bed now, but a few nights on spare mattresses or couches? Not a big deal.” You felt yourself blushing but Ryan didn’t look away, instead moving closer to you without breaking eye contact. “I’m going to help you out as much as I can, but I’m not that great in the kitchen, so I don’t know how much I can do. I’d prob’ly be a bigger help out of here.” He tucked his phone into his pocket as he reached you, one arm circling your waist as he pulled you close, using the tattooed fingers of his other hand to tilt your face upward so that he could kiss you gently. “I love you.” You closed your eyes and kissed him back, reaching around to put your hands on his waist, thumbs slipping into his belt loops. 

 “Love you too,” you murmured as you pulled away, shaking your head. “But that doesn’t mean that you won’t be the one opening all of those cans.” He laughed as he turned away from you, heading back into the living room. “I’m serious, Brenner.” 

 “I know.” 

 --- 

 You stood in front of the stove, stirring a pan full of gravy and humming to yourself as Ryan and his friends gathered in the living room. Your guests had started trickling in two days prior, but that afternoon, there were people in every room. Jack and Matt and Matt’s girlfriend Brynn had been the first to arrive, followed by Chris and Jameson from Seattle later that evening and two young men that were barely in their twenties named Charlie and Thomas that Ryan had met in Chicago. David and Lauren were there too, accepting the invitation that Ryan had offered them without pause as both of their families lived out of state. Though you’d been determined to cook everything from scratch, the other woman had offered to bring dessert in the form of pies and a pan of the lemon bars that Ryan had sworn to you were good enough to make him forget his own name, though he’d never been able to hold off on eating long enough to get one home to you so that you could find out for yourself. Saves me hours. I’m not complaining. 

 For the first time since you’d moved in, the house was full - and though none of them were your friends, you felt as close to home as you had in years, hearing the sounds of assorted instruments and voices carrying through the archway into the kitchen - making the house feel almost alive. And we’re only here for a few more months anyway. You’d extended the lease on the house to the end of March, but hadn’t wanted to delay the process of moving any more than that, because you wanted to be closer to the west coast by the time that your exhibit opened. Ryan had agreed eagerly, excited to see more of the country and to reconnect with more friends. 

 He’d explained what he was trying to do with his music to Matt and Jack, and the three of them had started to brainstorm, locked in the spare room playing and listening to old recordings while you and Brynn had lounged on the couch, the girl enjoying the fact that she could relax for a few days in total comfort. She’d been a huge help in the kitchen, cutting down your prep time by a lot, but true to your threat, Ryan had spent more than an hour opening cans and helping you peel potatoes that morning while everyone else took turns showering. “Hey.” Glancing back in the direction of the living room, you saw Ryan standing just inside the doorway, a wide smile on his face. “Smells amazin’.” Good. 

 You motioned him over, sticking a spoon into the gravy and then holding it out to him to taste. “Well?” Ryan’s eyes closed, tongue moving over his lips. 

 “Perfect.” He shook his head, opening his eyes again and reaching out to take the spoon from your hand before placing it in the sink. “You should taste it, too.” The next thing you knew, Ryan was kissing you, his hand in your hair as he held you close. You sighed into him, using both hands to grip his shirt and pull him closer. “Told you.” He licked his lips as he pulled back, eyes still half closed and a lazy smile on his face. “I can’t believe you got all this done, and it’s all gonna be ready at the same time.” He kissed you again. “It’s impressive.” 

 “Thank you, Ry.” You finally let him go, reaching up to place a palm on his chest. “It’s going to be ready in about fifteen minutes, if you want to let everyone know.” He nodded, not taking his eyes off of you. “What?” Ryan looked at you carefully, unsure of what to say for a moment. 

 “I just…” He shook his head, hand resting on your hip. “These are my friends, not yours, and your house is full of ‘em, and… I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” He stopped. “To deserve you.” 

 “You promised me Christmas, Ryan Brenner.” You fought back a lump in your throat, hand sliding up to his neck and then the side of his head, stroking your fingers through his hair. “Just you and me and a tree. And this isn’t my house, it’s ours. So…” With a single nod of his head, Ryan agreed, lips finding yours again briefly. 

 The sound of someone clearing their throat jolted you away from him, but Ryan still didn’t remove his hand from you as both of you turned to look at the doorway where Charlie was standing with Lauren. “Can we help get stuff to the table?” With a squeeze to your hip, Ryan stepped away from you and toward the pair, gesturing back in your direction. Without pause, Lauren and Charlie moved toward you, waiting for your instructions. 

 “Alright, so we just need to start carrying this out to the table. There are pot

holders on the counter and…” 

 --- 

 Later that night, you and Ryan were lying in bed, him on his back and you on your side right up against him while your fingers traced over the tattoo on his ribs, your eyelids heavy. “What you did tonight…” Ryan started, his voice quiet. “What you did for all those people this week? All of my friends?” His hand was resting on your bare hip, fingers gently pressed into the flesh as he spoke. “These holidays aren’t always easy when you live like we… like they do.” He still sees himself… “You gave ‘em a place to feel at home, somewhere they felt…”

 “They’re your family, Ryan.” You kissed his shoulder, thinking. “Not by blood, but… they mean just as much to you as an actual relative would.” He was quiet, and from outside of the closed door you heard Brynn’s laugh from the room across the hall. “I -”

 “You’re my family, too.” His words were quiet and you didn’t hear any hesitation in them, but they still made your breath catch in disbelief. What? “You know that, right?” He shifted onto his side, rolling toward you. Even in the dark of the room, you could see his eyes, the furrow of his brow. “You’re family now. Have been for... “ He paused. “Since before I found you again.” You could feel your own heart pounding, mind working overtime to process his words. “I know you have your aunt, but…”

 “You’re… shit, Ryan.” You felt tears running down your cheeks and Ryan’s hand quickly moved up to wipe them away, fingers lingering on your skin. “I never thought that I’d have this again, and especially not with someone like you, not after my parents...” He leaned in, kissing you on the forehead before pressing his lips against yours, breath hitting your face as he exhaled. His hand had dropped to the side of your neck, thumb moving slowly back and forth on the skin just beneath your jaw. You didn’t know what else to say to Ryan in return; didn’t know how to tell him that he was the only family you’d ever need, that he made you feel safe and loved and important, that you didn’t want anyone else, that you likely never would. He has to know, he has to understand. “I love you so much, Ryan.” Your voice was thick with tears and you felt him nod slowly, hand still against your neck.

 “I know you do.” He sighed, shifting his hips as you tightened your hold on his side. “You don’t gotta tell me that, because -”

 “But I do, because…” You stopped, waiting. “Because you need to hear it.” Swallowing, you lifted your head, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, lips finding the skin above his beard. “I had my parents growing up, and my aunt and uncle, and that was it. No cousins, no siblings no… no grandparents.” You looked down at Ryan, hand still pressed flat against his ribs, the inner part of his bicep resting against the back of your hand. “When I lost my parents, it felt like I lost everything, Ryan. I was numb, I was… I just threw myself back into work and ignored everything that I could. I ignored the trial, ignored my aunt, ignored the feelings that I knew I was supposed to be having.” 

 “Come here.” Ryan’s hand slid down your side, pulling you closer and without hesitation, you lowered yourself back onto him, feeling his other arm circling you as he pulled you to his chest. “Keep talkin’.” You waited a few seconds, concentrating on his hand - the rough fingers moving against the middle of your back and calming you, and then you continued. 

 “I knew I’d have to deal with it eventually, but it was like… the house was  paid off - and as long as I paid the monthly bills and all that, I could keep from having to go back there, keep from having to deal with it.” You sighed, feeling the tears coming again. “Running from stuff isn’t the answer, but how else do you deal with…” He kissed the top of your head, muttering the words ‘I know’ as you hitched a leg over his, wanting to get closer to him. “And then I met you, and I was just… happy for those few days in Vegas. You came out of nowhere, and I felt a connection to you, Ryan, and even though it was just a short time, just those few hours spent with you… I felt like myself again. You did that for me.” What are you even getting at? 

 “When I was with Jackie, I didn’t feel like myself.” He paused. “Not the whole time, anyway. When she was praisin’ me for my talent or encouraging me, I felt like a lot of things were right, but…” Ryan stopped speaking, the room silent. “It got a little better when I left Utah, but the more I thought, the more I realized that even before Utah, somethin’ was off, somethin’ wasn’t … I wasn’t me.” Ryan stopped speaking, and you relaxed, ears trained on the rest of the house, listening for noises that any of your guests might have made. “I went to Vegas by chance, did I ever tell you that?”

 “You didn’t.” Ryan tightened his grip on you, laughing quietly. 

 “Stopped in Phoenix because it was too damn hot to be on the trains and met a girl in a coffee shop.” He cleared his throat. “She worked there, traded me a muffin and a refill to hear a song, and playin’ with her and hearing her sing… it woke me up.” You heard his voice change slightly as he remembered this woman, but before you could dwell on it, he continued. “She mentioned that Vegas would be a good place for me to play, said that she and her fiance had been there a few months prior, that she thought I’d do well out there…” Ryan sighed. “And so I went from Phoenix to Vegas and the rest… you know.” 

 “So you’d never even thought of it before?” He replied with a no, followed with a short laugh. “So you’re telling me that without the recommendation of some random person in Phoenix, we’d never have met? You’d never have… we’d never have this?” Ryan was quiet for nearly a minute, and you opened your mouth to speak when he beat you to it. 

 “You know, I’m not sure.” Ryan sighed. “I think about that a lot - think about meetin’ you and what it… how it happened.” Ryan’s hand slid down your back and to your waist, fingers still moving in slow circles. “I still would have ended up in Colorado and Seattle, still would have gone to Chicago and to St. Louis… you had nothin’ to do with me gettin’ hurt… so I think, honestly, that we still could have met in that park in Philadelphia.” You do? But… 

 “But I only went home because of you, Ryan.” Your voice was quiet, thoughts jumbled. “I never would have…”

 “You woulda. Eventually. Things happen and we can’t explain ‘em, but I feel like we were supposed to meet. And if it hadn’t been in Vegas, it would have been…” He sighed. “Somewhere.” Ryan’s grip on you tightened again. “I refuse to believe that there’s any chance we missed each other or missed this.” He said your name, the intent clear. “But it doesn’t matter, because we met in Vegas and we’re here now, and we’re never gonna…” You cut him off as you turned your head to kiss him hard on the mouth, catching him by surprise. You didn’t believe in fate, didn’t believe in things being destined to happen - but you weren’t going to question or doubt Ryan’s presence in your life or what you meant to each other - why would you? 

 Though still full from dinner and extraordinarily tired, you felt your body moving before you’d thought it through, right knee supporting your weight as you swung your left leg over Ryan’s hips, straddling his waist.  You hadn’t bothered to put pajamas on before sliding into bed next to him, and Ryan’s eyes opened fully as he stared up at you, hands resting on your waist and your palms flat on his stomach. He was smiling - that tiny smirk that you loved so much present on his lips, and you returned the expression, nails scratching into the dark hair below his navel as you curled your fingers, causing him to groan quietly. “No.” You shook your head, winking down at him. “We’re never going miss each other like that again.” 

--- 

 POV: Ryan 

 “You wanted to see me, David?” Ryan stood in the man’s tiny office, one hand on the back of his neck, the other stuffed into the pocket of his jacket. “I just finished up at the site, and stopped back to -”

 “Come in, Ryan.” David had a small stack of papers on the desk in front of him, but he gestured to the chair across from his seat, a smile on his face. “Everything go alright? I know all you had to do today was finish with the drywall.” Ryan took a seat, nodding but confused about what the meeting was for. He’d had no problems, no issues on the job or with David - or any of the other contractors he’d worked with since accepting the position, but David hadn’t ever wanted a meeting like this with him before. Things were fine last week at Thanksgiving, what… “I just wanted to talk with you about something.” He’s firing me. What did I do?

 “What’s going on, David? The drywall went fine, I may have to go back tomorrow and touch the mudding up, but -”

 “No, Ryan. I know it’s fine, that’s not…” David shook his head. “I wanted to talk to you about something because you’re the most… competent guy I have on the crew.” Ryan relaxed slightly, leaning back in his chair and waiting. Ok, so maybe I’m not getting fired. “I bought a house.” Ryan’s eyes widened, a smile spreading over his face. “Not for me and Lauren, but… to flip.” Oh, shit. “Here, take a look at this.” David slid some of the papers across the desk to Ryan, continuing. “These are pictures of the inside, tell me what needs to be done.” Ryan picked up each piece of paper, studying them carefully. 

 “Well, the flooring needs to be repaired or replaced, depending on what you want done with this room,” he said pointing at one of the images. “The walls need some patches, and the ceiling in this room… a bedroom, maybe? Looks like it’s leaking, so the roof would need to be checked, and maybe the pipes, if this is on the lower floor…” Ryan continued for a few minutes, pointing out kitchen counters and tiles, the worn carpet, a basement that needed to have electrical lines re-run and the front porch, which needed some brickwork until David stopped him. 

 “You caught things I didn’t even see, Ryan, and these are only pictures.” Ryan took a breath, waiting. “I wanted to bring you in here because I want you to lead this project for me.” His eyes widened and Ryan sat up straighter, listening. “That means you’d be giving instructions to the other guys, making decisions about supply orders, overseeing things as well as getting your hands on experience.” David took a deep breath. “I know you guys will be leaving sometime in March, and while I’m not happy to be losing you, you’ve done more for me in these last five months than a lot of the guys that I’ve been working with for years, and I want to help you out.”

 “You want me to lead a… I’ve never done anythin’ like this before.” David shook his head, pointing to the images. 

 “You have, though. This is a lot of small projects at once instead of a big one alone. Lauren and I have wanted to get in on this for a while, and the opportunity came up, so I jumped on it. She’s going to be in charge of the design aspects, but you’re going to be the one that decides what needs to be done construction wise, you’ll have the entire budget to work with.” Ryan’s heart was pounding, but he felt himself nodding, eyes moving back to the papers in front of him. “So it’s more responsibility, but that also means more pay.” His eyes flicked upward to David’s, and Ryan remained silent. “You’ll get a bumped hourly wage, and then when the house sells, a portion of the sale price.”

 “Why? Why would you -” David cut him off, holding up a finger. 

 “This flip shouldn’t take longer than two months, tops. This one’s not that difficult, and I’ll be workin’ with you since you don’t know all of the permit laws and everything, but -” David slid another paper over to Ryan, who stared down at it quietly. “You’ll get a portion of the sale of the house, because when this one’s done, as soon as it sells, I plan on moving right into a second flip and I figured you’d want to invest in it with me and make some real money when that one sells.” David shrugged. “You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a partner, Ryan. I trust you, and know you’re a hard worker. This is going to happen, and it’s going to happen how we want it to.” 

 “I’ll need to talk to -” David nodded, a smile on his face. “I’m definitely interested in takin’ lead on this one, but for the next one, and investin’, I can’t just…”

 “I figured as much, and that’s fine.” David shrugged. “Second house won’t even be up for sale until the new year, so you’ve got plenty of time.” David raised an eyebrow. “Hell, we might find that we’ve bitten off more than we can chew and not want to worry about a second house, but I doubt it.” Ryan laughed and David did too, shaking his head back and forth. “We’ll start working on this one late next week; you should only have what, two more days on the current project?” Ryan shook his head. 

 “I should be able to finish most of it tomorrow, sanding and painting are all that’s left, but if I have to mud anything else…” David’s head moved up and down slowly, and Ryan couldn’t stop himself from asking a question. “Why me? You don’t know me, and you -”

 “I know enough, Ryan. I see how hard you work, how much you care about what you do, and I want to help you out, because like I said, I know I won’t have you here forever.” Ryan stood again, reaching a hand out to shake one of David’s, still in disbelief. “We’ll talk more about this next week, but like I said, we’re already working on picking out colors and wood and all that, so we’re rolling.” Ryan paused on his way out of the office, turning to look back at David. 

 “Thank you, David.” He swallowed, giving the other man a curt nod. “I won’t disappoint you.” 

 --- 

 He’d told you the good news later that night, your excited squeal more than enough to alleviate some of the worry from his mind. You’d jumped up from the dinner table to hug him tightly, arms around his neck as you kissed his cheek. “That’s a big deal, Ryan! This is like… your project. You get to tell people what to do, and to …”

 “Hey.” He couldn’t keep the smile off of his face, but Ryan shook his head. “I’m not going to boss anyone around, I’m just…”

 “I know Ry, but he’s basically letting you take over on this, you’ll be responsible for how it all turns out and comes together, and what needs to be…” You pulled away from him, settling back into your chair. 

 “What if I screw up?” He was playing with his fork, hair hanging over his eye as he stared down at his plate. “What if I don’t make the right call or don’t order enough of something, or… I never learned this, never went to school, or -”

 “Ryan, you did learn it, though. You’ve been doing construction for years, picked up so much from your friends and coworkers. You can do this, and you will. Will you screw up? Probably, but it’s fine, it’s going to happen.” He watched you, eyes focused on your face. “You’ve got to learn somehow, and this is perfect.” You chewed on your lip. “David’s going to teach you what he knows, and then you can… I don’t know, use it wherever we go?” He nodded. “And Ryan, you actually investing in the next house he buys? That’s perfect. Gives you more incentive to work harder.” You reached out, hand finding his. “That’ll give you a cushion, Ryan. Give you freedom, and a chance to -”

 “I’ll be able to pay you back for this place and for the next place, too.” He swallowed, determined. “You won’t be the only one providin’ for us when we pick somewhere else to live.” He watched as your expression changed, a small frown on your lips. “That’s important to me.” You sighed but nodded, returning to your plate and your food. I know you can afford it, but you shouldn’t have to. It was quiet in the dining room for a few minutes, both of you eating, and Ryan decided to change the subject. “So what do you want for Christmas?” 

 --- 

 The weeks between Thanksgving and Christmas passed quickly - Ryan working tirelessly on the house project with David and the rest of his team, and though it was hard work - demanding and precise, Ryan found that he enjoyed it. He learned more about electrical work from David himself, got tips about flooring and laying tile from Andrew, and even learned some things about decorating from Lauren, whose enthusiasm about the project carried over to the rest of the men. Ryan was surprised at the confidence he felt as each day passed, and was pleased with the progress that had been made on the home’s interior, even though much of it had yet to be completed.

 David made sure that Ryan still got away from the project early enough a few nights a week to play out and to make it to his lessons, but two of the students had gone on vacation over their break from school, leaving him with only one to teach for most of December. His playing hadn’t suffered, despite his long hours at work - in fact, Ryan was almost more focused on it as the time passed, returning to writing original music as he planned out a short list of people that he wanted to reach out to and see about playing with as the two of you traveled. 

 You were understanding of his constantly changing schedule; though you’d told him that you missed him being there when you woke up in the morning, you never complained about him leaving early for work, never chastised him for tracking sawdust through the house or forgetting to put dishes in the sink because he’d left them on the table next to the couch. You understood how hard he was working, simply asking if there was anything you could do to help - and he appreciated it more than he could say to you, so he tried to show you instead. 

 He knew that you didn’t need grand gestures or declarations of love from him, so Ryan would find small ways to make you smile - leaving your mug next to the coffee maker in the morning, thumbing the thermostat up a degree or two before he left so that when you woke, the house wouldn’t be too cold, stopping on the way home to rent a movie for you to watch because you’d mentioned that you wanted to see it, even if you only made it through half of the movie before one (or both) of you developed a case of wandering hands. Before you, he’d had a very specific idea of what a relationship - what staying would be like, and while he didn’t know if things would have been the same with someone else, he was almost certain that they wouldn’t have been. And I’m glad. The bottom line was that while Ryan appreciated everything about you, it went deeper than that - and both of you knew it. 

 “Hey.” He stopped in the doorway of the office, where you were scrolling through images on the computer and sorting through them as you chose for your next show. “Do you have a minute?” You sighed, hand dropping away from the mouse as you swiveled the chair around to face him. 

 “Yeah, Ry. What’s up?” He knew that you were stressing - that you wanted to include some of the same images from before, but also were worried that you didn’t have enough new choices to make for a cohesive display. She needs a break. “I think I’ve got the first 60 narrowed down, so…”

 “Get dressed.” He watched as you paused, biting the inside of your cheek. “Come on, I’m gonna take you out for dinner.” He had the night off - no lesson, no gig, no extra work for David, and he knew that you’d never turn down the opportunity to spend time with him. “And then,” he said as he stepped toward you, extending his hand. “Then we’re going to buy a Christmas tree.” The look on your face was one of shock and happiness, and you gripped his fingers tightly, nearly bouncing to your feet. “Yeah?” 

 “Ryan, I haven’t had a tree in …”

 “I haven’t had a real tree in over a decade,” he replied as he leaned forward to kiss you on the temple. “So I’ve got you beat.” You laughed at him but dropped his hand to hurry from the room, computer and images forgotten as you got dressed in boots and a coat, making your way into the living room before he’d even finished tying his laces. “Mexican alright? We haven’t been to 3 Matadors in a long time.” You nodded, grabbing your purse, but Ryan’s hand closed over yours, head shaking back and forth. “You can bring it with you, but you’re not payin’ for anything.” Don’t argue with me. You didn’t, your hand reaching over to push the hair back from his eyes as you stared at him, a smile on your lips. God, it feels good to be able to say that. 

 --- 

 An hour and a half later, both of you were full and happy, enjoying the rare date night out as you searched for a parking spot near one of the lots that was close to your house. “In a Chick Fil A parking lot?” You wrinkled your nose, laughing. “They’ll put these tree lots anywhere.” Ryan shrugged, pulling the car into a vacant spot and putting it into park. 

 “We’re ten miles from the ocean, can’t expect snow and fields of trees where you can cut them down yourself, right?” You shook your head, opening your door, and by the time Ryan had joined you at the back end of your car, you were already grinning. “Ready?” You nodded quickly, taking his hand and pulling him toward the trees and the people milling around without speaking again. Here we go. 

 You searched the lot for almost half an hour, Ryan following you around as you made your way from tree to tree, eyes lighting up as you found one that you thought was good, only to turn it and see a bare spot, or have him pull it toward him to find that it was crooked. “It’s gotta be right, Ryan.” He heard the anxiety creeping into your voice and so he finally stepped forward after waiting for two kids to move past, chasing each other down the corridor between rows of trees. 

 “Hey!” You turned at the sound of his voice, one of his hands reaching up to settle on your shoulder as he pulled you closer before the two of you continued to walk. “You almost…” he pointed down, where there was a large muddy area near your feet. “Watch out.” Both of you stepped over the spot, moving in unison. “Don’t worry, we’ll find one.” He kissed the top of your head, feeling as you settled in against him. “This was supposed to be fun for you, not…” He stopped as his eyes fell on a tree a few feet away, moving quickly from top to bottom. That one. He nudged you, noticing that you were looking in the opposite direction. “Look.” Ryan’s hand rose, the fingers on his left hand extended toward the tree. “What about that one?” 

 “Oh.” He heard your voice catch, feeling as you stepped away from him. “I…” He followed you, the sounds of the other people in the lot fading as you touched the branches, fingers skimming over the individual needles. He followed suit, inhaling deeply as he inched his face closer to the tree, his mind going back to the prior holidays that he’d shared with his mother - specifically the ones between losing his father and his mother meeting Thomas, which were some of his earliest memories. The tree was in the corner, right by the stairs. “Do you like this one, Ryan?” 

 “Yeah.” Ryan licked his lips, rubbing at his eyebrows for long moments. “I think it’s a good one.” He looked down at you, dropping his hand to his side and cocking his head to the left. “You?” Your eyes went back to the tree, shoulders rising as you took a deep breath. 

 “Yes.” You looked up at him, smiling. “This is it.” Telling you to wait while he went to get an employee, Ryan stepped away from you, still thinking about his mom, about his childhood, about the fact that ever since he’d met you, he’d started remembering random things - memories that he didn’t even know he still had, and that it felt natural. As he waited for the young man to cut a length of twine from a large spindle, Ryan glanced back at you, watching as you took a picture of the tree with your phone, quickly typing something out. This is where I’m supposed to be. 

 Fifteen minutes later, the two of you were back in the car, Ryan behind the wheel. “Let me try that?” He glanced over at you, watching as you paused with your straw only an inch or so from your mouth. “I got -”

 “If you wanted strawberry, Ryan, you should have gotten it.” You glanced at him without turning your head, and Ryan felt himself grinning. “Here.” He pulled out from the parking lot, turning back toward your house as you held the straw up to his lips. He closed them around it, sucking gently and taking a large mouthful of the milkshake. “Good, right?” 

 “Sure is.” Ryan swallowed, pointing at his own cup, which was settled between the two of you and you handed it to him. “But it’s almost Christmas, I had to get the cookie one.” The two of you laughed before settling into a comfortable silence as he drove through the traffic, finally pulling into your driveway a little before 8:30. 

 “Ryan?” He turned to look at you as he put the car in park, noticing that your eyes were focused on his face. “Thank you. I needed tonight.” I know. Ryan moved without thinking, leaning over the console to pull you into a kiss that lasted for a long time, neither of you wanting to pull away. “Love you, Brenner.” 

 “I know.” He winked at you, settling back into his seat before turning his head to look at you. “Not as much as I love you, though.” Even in the low light, Ryan could tell that your face was reddening, warmth spreading upward from your chest to your cheeks. Good. 

 --- 

 You decorated the tree together over the course of the next few days, setting it up in the stand the first night, allowing the branches to settle, adding in lights the following day and ornaments - a small box that you’d brought with you from Pennsylvania, others that you’d purchased from Target and Walmart after that. It wasn’t uncommon for one or both of you to come into the house and add something personal to the tree’s branches - You hung a small framed image of the two of you one afternoon, and Ryan, getting into the spirit of the holiday surreptitiously looped a broken guitar string around one of the branches after twisting it into a circle. You laughed when you saw it - but not unkindly, your eyes shining. “I should have thought of that, Ryan.”  But it was the final ornament that he hung on the tree that truly caught your attention, you calling Ryan into the living room after you’d made it home from photographing the lights and trees at a local display one night. “Ryan, what’s…”

 “Oh.” He stepped up behind you, winding his arms around your shoulders and pulling you close. “That?” He shrugged, feeling you lean backwards into his body. “That’s just something that I’ve been carryin’ around in my wallet for a year and a half.” You stepped away from him and Ryan let you go, watching as you pulled the ornament from the tree, turning it over in your fingers. “It’s -”

 “My room key.” You brought your gaze back up to his face, and Ryan saw that there were tears in your eyes. “The one I gave you the day that you went to do laundry and tried to leave.” Yeah, that’s the one. He nodded once. “You kept it? All this time?”

 “I did.”He swallowed, reaching up to run his hand through his hair. “Even when I couldn’t keep anythin’ big, I always took small stuff - a guitar pick from someone I played with, a matchbook, a receipt. Always lost ‘em though, after a while.” Ryan felt his tongue poking through his teeth and between his lips as he thought, mind far away. “That’s been behind my license since the mornin’ you - we - checked out of that hotel, and I thought it’d be perfect on our first Christmas tr-” You cut him off as you launched yourself at him, the fingers of one hand curled around the thin piece of plastic as your arm wrapped around his neck. “I love you, Ryan.” You spoke even as you kissed him, lips hungrily pressed against his. “I don’t know how I -” I don’t either.

 “Yeah.” He kissed you back, the fingers of both hands digging into your lower back. “We’re both lucky.” Real lucky. He moved his lips from your mouth to your neck, sucking gently on the skin as he kissed it. “Put that back on the tree and lets go to bed, alright?” Once you’d replaced the key on the branch, you turned back to Ryan, holding your hand out and waiting as he grasped it tightly, pulling you close to his chest again. “I don’t need to carry it with me anymore.” 

 “Oh yeah?” You smiled up at him, Ryan using his other hand to tuck hair behind your ear. “Why’s that?”

 “I’ve got the real thing right in front of me.” He watched the expression on your face change, a slew of emotions passing through your eyes before surprise won out. “Real’s so much better.” You nodded, eyes closing as you turned your cheek toward his chest, leaning in. So much better. 

  Five days later, on Christmas morning, you and Ryan woke up late, walking into the living room hand in hand. The tree was lit, and though there was no snow on the ground, it felt like Christmas to him, Ryan reclining on the couch while you cooked breakfast for the two of you. His eyes moved over the room - comfortable, cozy, filled with a collection of things that belonged to the two of you - before landing on the tree. There were only two presents beneath it; he’d opened the microphones almost as soon as you’d purchased them for him, and so the wrapped gifts were both for you - from Ryan. Hope she likes ‘em. He pulled his phone out, opening Instagram and scrolling through it idly as the smell of bacon wafted to his nose, you moving easily through the kitchen and humming to yourself quietly. Checking his messages out of habit, his finger froze over the screen as he saw one that he’d missed from over a week ago. Not today. Close the app. “Ry?” 

 He heard your voice and tore his eyes away from the screen, looking up at you. “Breakfast ready?” Swallowing, Ryan sat up and swung his feet to the floor, standing up. “I’m starvin’. And then you can open your -”

 “What’s wrong, Ryan?” You shook your head, stopping him from getting to the table. “I know that look.” I have to tell her. 

 “I…” He paused, deciding that he needed to get it over with. “I missed a message from last week on Instagram, and I just saw it now, and…” He stepped closer to you, unlocking the phone and opening the app again, holding it out to you. “It’s from Lia.” You took a deep breath, nodding once. “I can delete it, I -”

 “No.” You shook your head. “Read it, Ryan. It can’t be…” You rose onto your toes, kissing his cheek and Ryan felt lighter immediately. She’s not upset. “She must have something important to tell ya.” Ryan walked into the kitchen, sitting down in front of his plate, eyes still on his phone. Alright, here we go. Clicking on the message, Ryan’s eyes scanned it quickly, breath catching. Hey, Ryan. Just wanted to let you know that I’m still taking real good care of your guitar. Played it at Mom’s wedding, and I thought you’d wanna see how much better I got. I don’t know if you’ll watch this, but if you do, you don’t have to say anything back. You look happy in your videos, and I hope you are. You deserve it, Ryan. 

 There was a video attached, and Ryan waited to open it, thinking. It sounded like Lia - or at least like he imagined she’d sound nearly two and a half years after the last time he’d seen her. She wasn’t asking for information about him, and it didn’t seem like she’d been told to send the message, but…She’s a kid, just watch it. “She sent me a video.” Ryan looked up, seeing that you were sitting in your own chair, watching him. “Of her playin’ my guitar… well, her guitar now, but…” He sighed. “At Jackie’s weddin’.” You didn’t look surprised at the news that the woman had gotten married after all, and Ryan realized that you already knew - that you’d likely looked it up to see for yourself whether or not it had happened, or you’d need to expect the woman showing up in Charleston to see him. And she didn’t say anything. “I’m… gonna watch it, if you want to come over here an’ watch it with me.” 

 You were up and out of your seat before he’d stopped speaking, and Ryan pushed back from the table, gesturing to his lap. You settled in, Ryan’s arms going around you as he raised his phone before pressing play on the video. It was a short one - less than a minute long, but he was pleased - and proud - to see that Lia had improved. Her playing wasn’t perfect, but she was into it, focused on the strings and the words she was singing. He felt himself smile as he watched the clip, eyes locked on the blonde girl on his screen. Though he’d expected the video to cut to Jackie and her new husband before it ended, it didn’t, instead cutting out just as the final notes died away, Lia’s face breaking into a grin. Good for her. “She’s good, Ryan. Looks like she’s taking good care of your guitar.” 

 “Yeah, she was a good kid. I’m proud of-” He stopped, still looking down at his phone. “I’m proud of her.” And he was, he realized, proud of the way that Lia had stuck with playing and singing, had stuck with caring for the instrument that had gotten him through many years of busking. “I’ll respond, but not today.” He darkened his screen, setting the phone down and kissing you on the shoulder, feeling a few strands of your hair beneath his lips. “Today’s about us, not…” 

 “That’s fine.” You stood, turning to face him, and Ryan looked up at you. “You and me and a tree, right?” He nodded, feeling himself smile. “Merry Christmas, Ryan.” Breakfast untouched, Ryan stood, hands moving to either side of your face as he cupped your jaw, overwhelmed with emotion. I said it before but I meant it - she’s everything.  “What are you doing, Brenner?” Ryan leaned in, rubbing his nose against yours before pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth. “Ry -”

 “Merry Christmas.” He swallowed, lips moving over the skin of your face, trying to be mindful of his beard against all of the sensitive places. “This year… this year I don’t have to sing for you over the phone.” He closed his eyes, thinking about the prior Christmas, the way you’d both been too afraid to say anything except “I miss you” -nearly 900 miles apart. “I should have told you that I loved you last Christmas when I called you.” Ryan spoke quietly, rocking back and forth, feeling your hands on his waist. “I should have -”

 ‘No.” You moved your head from side to side, breath hitting his face as you spoke. “No, we weren’t… if you would have said it then, and then disappeared for five months…” You let out a breath with a shudder. “It would have killed me, Ryan.” He wasted no more time, turning his head slightly and using his hands to tilt your face upward. As you kissed, he dropped his hands, fingertips skimming down the front of you as you curved your body toward his. I should have. I should have done a lot differently. I - His thoughts were interrupted as he felt your hand slide beneath his shirt, nails raking across the skin of his back. 

 When you broke apart, both of you were breathless. “Let’s eat, Ryan. Food’s getting cold.” You swallowed and Ryan did too, trying to calm his heartbeat. “Then I can open my presents.” He laughed, his hands falling from your body as you stepped away from him and back to your chair, sitting and picking up your fork. Yeah, you can. Ryan sat too, watching as you ate, unable to keep the smile off of his face. You made small talk as you finished your breakfast, deciding that you’d go and see a movie in the afternoon and then get Chinese food for dinner, keeping things low-key on the holiday - your first Christmas together. Perfect. 

 The dishes cleared, you and Ryan made your way into the living room, where he paused to scoop up both gifts before he handed them to you. You opened them slowly, biting your lower lip as you ripped through the paper to expose the entirety of the first gift - a new bag for your camera, made from a waterproof material. “You just got that new lens and were compainin’ that you couldn’t fit everything in your old bag.” The grin on your face was as bright as he’d ever seen it before, and Ryan wanted to keep staring at it, but instead he reached over, tapping a long finger against the paper of the second, smaller package. “This one’s... “ He shook his head, hair falling over his eyes. “I -”

 “Shh.” You wrinkled your nose at him. “Lemme open my present.” With a laugh, he raised his hand in a placating gesture, watching as you tore the paper away. “Ryan, what’s this?” You looked back up at him, widening your eyes. “Your… passport?” He nodded as you changed positions on the couch, drawing your knees up beneath you when you turned to face him, grip tight on the blue object. “This is… what…”

 “So.” He licked his lips, reaching out to take the small booklet from your hands, opening it to look at the page with his picture on it. “I got this a few weeks ago, and I… I thought that maybe we could…” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. You live with her, Brenner. Why is this so hard? “Maybe we could plan a trip sometime next year, I’ve been savin’.” You gasped, his name falling from your lips in a whisper. “I thought that my first time out of the country should be somewhere -”

 “Yes.” You nodded enthusiastically, leaning in to throw your arms around his shoulders, pushing him backwards onto the couch so that you were laying on top of him. Ryan was immediately comforted by your weight, the booklet falling from his hand and onto the floor as he held you close. “Oh, Ryan. There are so many places that I’d love to show you, so much for you to see.” You tucked your forehead in against his neck, removing your right arm from around his neck and stroking his hair. He pushed the material of your shirt up, running his hands up and down your spine as the two of you talked quietly, discussing possible places to go and things to see. I don’t care where we go, as long as she’s... “Thank you, Ryan.” Your voice was quiet, and though you’d stretched out so that you were laying between Ryan and the back of the couch, he was unwilling to let you go. “This is the best Christmas I’ve had since I was a kid.”

 “Me too.” Ryan sniffed, feeling his eyelids getting heavy, the warmth of your skin against his and the familiar rise and fall of your chest lulling him back to sleep. “An’ it’s because we’re…” He trailed off, hearing your quiet agreement, and the last thought he had before drifting off was one that he’d never had before.

 I wanna spend the rest of my life with her. 

---

[recentanimenews]

Ani-Gamers Interview with John-Paul

Almost to the hour a week after the online convention Anime Lockdown finished its formal programming, Ink sat down with its founder, Director of Operations John-Paul, to talk about how the con came together: aides, influences, intentions, and efforts. The virtual convention drew industry representation from Discotek, Right Stuf, Kyle Hebert, and Veronica Taylor as well as such talented panelists as Mike Toole, Evan Minto, and many others. What follows is a transcript of most of the interview. Audio of the full interview is accessible by Content Respecter members of the Ani-Gamers Patreon.

Ani-Gamers: Hello and welcome to Ani-Gamers’ interview with John Paul, director of operations for the online-only convention Anime Lockdown that took place May 1-3, 2020 via streams on Facebook, Twitch, and YouTube. JP, thanks for talking with me.

John-Paul (JP): Whaddup?!

Ani-Gamers: How’s recovery going after basically coordinating panelists and emceeing the con for three days straight?

John-Paul: You know, it’s been pretty good. It took a whiole to adjust to not having a deadline, because leading up to the convention, we took about a month to plan everything. I was spending essentially the same length of a of a con day just doing prep, and so there was like three or four 14-hour days leading up to the convention just working on graphics, working on audio clips, and all that. So not having something to do actually makes me more nervous. So I've been I've been working on music again, which has been keeping me busy.

Ani-Gamers: You said there was a virtual con before this one that helped you out in terms of building this one. Can you walk us through what kind of influence they had and how they helped you and sort of walk us through how you built this con.

John-Paul: Oh, sure. That’s been a common misconception: that a lot of people thought we were the first to do this. It's absolutely not true. I've said it and reiterated it multiple times along the way, especially because other cons helped me out in some of the planning. The two that reached out to me were On-Con and QuaranCon. On-Con, I'm not terribly familiar with the people behind it. It's a YouTuber [GeekArchaeology], and his name escapes me, but he has a YouTube channel, where he does anime news, I assume weekly, and he did this all-day convention thing at the end of March I think? It was a Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Friday was a half day. Saturday and Sunday, I don't think they were quite as long as the days we did, but they were longer days. And they helped me out in terms of like, “You need to give people more things to do than just panels. You need to be aware that technical things could happen. You need to have a variety in your programming” – things that were in the back of my mind but that were being brought to my attention as more of a priority. ‘Cause when I originally thought of this, I was like, “I'm just going to do like a day or two panels. It's going to be fine. It's going to be a bunch of people I know. Is anybody even going to apply? Probably not. It's likely just going to be doing a couple panels and then calling it a day.”

And QuaranCon helped me out with the dealers side. They ran their convention on Discord. They were the weekend before us, and they really helped us out with figuring out how to set up the Dealer's Room, the Artist Alley, different types of things that we did in Discord like different bots and stuff. Some of their staff actually came to join us and help run things. So that was really helpful, ‘cause I don't know a lot about Discord. My partner, Tony, is the one who handled most of the Discord stuff with help from QuaranCon, as well as one of one our vendors, Persephone, I think it was her boyfriend, I'm not totally sure, but he also helped us with a lot of the more advanced Discord things. I handled all the panel stuff. That's my expertise: running tech, running audio. It’s essentially like anybody that went … what you saw is what I had in my head when I first came up with this. It just got bigger in scale. Like, I always wanted to have audio only with graphic showing a PowerPoint. I always wanted to use Discord. I always wanted to have a break in between each panel. So for the most part, that never changed. I don't know, it just it just seems like the easiest way to do it. And I think I was right, because I didn’t have any huge technical problems. Webcams would’ve complicated things, and screen sharing was another thing I wanted to avoid. A few people did use screen sharing – there was maybe five panels that used screen sharing? And my hesitance to use it was vindicated a little bit; we didn’t have any huge meltdowns, but panels that had technical problems were the ones that were screen shared.

Ani-Gamers: What was it that made you take that first step in making this con? I mean, to have in your head, “I'd love to make a con” is something so completely different from, “Okay, it's time to start building this con.”

John-Paul: The first time I had the idea to do an online con was mid-March. It was like two days after I lost my job. I work in the film industry. All of the movie sets shut down on, like, March tenth-ish, and so I needed something to do. And all the cons were closing, and I posted some tweet like, “Hey, wouldn’t it be cool if there was like an online con?” One of my local cons from back in Minnesota had just announced that they weren't going to do their event, Anime Detour, and a few people reached out like, “Yeah, that's kind of cool” or “I've been to things like this” or “What if we did this type of thing” and I just kind of forgot about it for a couple weeks. And then it was the weekend that Anime Detour would have happened, which I think is the last weekend of March, and Tony and several other friends were online lamenting like, “Aw, man, we would’ve been at Detour this weekend. This is a bummer.” For some of us, that’s the only time we get to see each other – anime conventions. Like I’ve known Tony, Tony was the Director of Vendor Relations by the way, for over a decade, but only ever see each other at anime conventions, be it Anime Detour or Otakon. And that’s ‘cause even when I lived in Minnesota, he lived like two hours away. So it just didn’t make sense for us to go get a beer after work. So this was a bummer, ‘cause for some of us, that’s like the one time we get to see our friends. And I said like, “You know? I was talkin’ about it a couple weeks ago. Why don’t we just do our own con? Gimme a couple weeks. I’m gonna put something together. Let’s see where this goes.” And then I started brainstorming names. And that’s when it became real, was when I gave it a name and made a twitter account. And I think the first tweet was April 2; I just said, “Hey, I’m gonna try doing a con. Would that be cool with everybody?” And it just kind of snowballed from there.

Ani-Gamers: You said QuaranCon and On-Con took place beforehand, and like you said people tend to overlook the fact that they existed, maybe because they were just so local, but what do you think made Anime lockdown so novel?

John-Paul: I don't want to downplay what they did, because I think what they did is really important, and they definitely set the groundwork for what I did. I think the difference was just that I'm louder. I think that's honestly the only difference; I'm louder, and I posted a lot on social media. I went to QuaranCon, and it look to be very successful. I think they did a really cool thing. They did it differently. They did it in a way I wouldn't… Well I mean obviously I didn't run my event in the same way, but they were catering to a different , and I think they did so fairly successfully. But they also they advertised in different places. Their Twitter account was fairly quiet leading up to their event. I think they did most of their talking on Instagram, because QuaranConcon, from an outsider looking in, seemed to be very artist-heavy, and so I think it was a bunch of people that would normally go to an Artist Alley that wanted to set up a place where they could share their work with everyone. And if you look at the types of panels that they had, it seems to confirm that fact. They had a lot of like “How to Draw” or like “How to Style a Wig” types of panels like that. On-Con, I don't have as much familiarity with. I don't know what his Twitter presence is. I don't know what his YouTube reach is. I know that they did fairly well. They've done a second con. I don't know what the numbers were like for that, but their first con they had 150-200 people and they raised like $500 for charity, which is really awesome. We didn't align herself with a specific charity, because I wanted to encourage people to donate locally and also to shop with our vendors and tip our DJ, which in that sense I think we were very successful. Our DJ was able to pay off some of his gear. I saw him talking about that on Facebook, which makes me really happy. I don't know how much money our dealers made, but I know that some made a sizable amount

AG: I actually made it a point to at least buy one or two things from a dealer per day – just to sort of simulate that, “Hey I'm at a  con. This is the time I would just be wandering through the Dealers Room. Yeah, why not?”

John-Paul: When I when I set out to do this, that was what I wanted to do. Now we didn’t have dealers in the beginning, but it was never about me emceeing a con and telling people to check out my SoundCloud. It was me providing a platform for people to share their cosplay that they now don't get to wear in public because of the shutdown, to do their panel that maybe they only get to do once a year, and to help people find more followers. ‘Cause I know for some people conventions are a great place to find an audience for, you know, maybe you've never done a panel before, and you’ve got a really cool anime blog. Well what better way to get the word out than a group of thirty people that are coming to your robot panel or whatever. But the short answer to your question is I just happen to be connected to the twittersphere. I know a lot of people. I know you. I know Mike Toole. I know Evan. So like a lot of it was, “Oh yeah, I know that guy. He's doing a thing. I want to participate.” Whereas these other people may not have had those connections. But certainly I want to make it clear that I didn't abuse those connections; I didn't reach out to anybody. They came to me of their own accord. So they just happened to see me being loud on Twitter.

Ani-Gamers: How did the voice actors get involved, ‘cause that's fairly high-profile for, no offense, someone on Twitter putting together a con. Did people reach out to the vocal talent and some of the companies like Right Stuf and Discotek?

John-Paul: I don’t take any offense to that. We’re an indie show, and and I take a lot of pride in that we’re an indie show. I think we set a fairly high bar for what the pro shows have to do now. There’s a lot of pro cons coming out, and what we pulled off, with essentially two people and a few moderators, I think is kind of outrageous.

So what I said in the previous answer is slightly misleading; I reached out to one person. I reached out to Kyle. Kyle Hebert has been a favorite voice actor of mine for a long time. He has a background in podcasting and radio. And so I thought it would be a perfect fit for doing a convention where he doesn't actually see the people that are at his panel. But other than that, everybody reached out to me on their own. Veronica reached out to me on Twitter, Discotek reached out to me through Mike Toole on Twitter, and Right Stuf submitted a panel in the same way that you did. So that was really what blew my mind every step of the way. I shared this dumb meme on Twitter: 20 days ago: “Hey, does anyone want to do an anime con? And then me when I find out who the guests are, and it’s the Pikachu surprised face.” I woke up one day to Right Stuf asking if they could do a panel and I was like, “Whoa.” And I don’t wanna play favorites, but Right Stuf and Discotek are two of my favorite anime companies, and so I was really honored that they wanted to be a part of this event.

Ani-Gamers: Make sense. They're kind of more the indie group amongst the sellers the distributors.

John-Paul: Oh yeah. One of my favorite anime of all time was a Right Stuf release: Boogiepop Phantom. And, you know, I wouldn't be here, I would presume, if I hadn't seen that show.

Ani-Gamers: I know you said Tony handled most of the Discord stuff. Was there any discussion between you and Tony about how that Discord evolved? Because it was kind of awesome. It evolved in real-time, where not only did you have like The Hall for cosplay but then you had The Showcase for more like glamour shots and professional photography-based stuff. You had a call-out to the vendors as mentioned previously but then you had that In Search Of tool, which was a fantastic way of matching vendor to need, especially in a virtual space where you can't browse tables and going through everybody's virtual Etsy store would take hours.

John-Paul: A lot of it was a collaborative effort. There were a few things that he did on his own without running it by me, which is fine, because, you know, you have to trust your team sometimes. The check-in area was very much a collaborative effort. The having the con not show up until you agree to the rules and having the vendors not show up until you agree to the waiver, that was an idea that me and him had had for a while that we just didn't know how to implement for a long time. The panel notification was something the Tony figured out how to do on his own. That was, if you emoji the panel, you would get an alert when it when it was time for that panel to come on. The hotel lobby was kind of us a few days before the con realizing that we didn't have a general area for people to talk, and so we made the Introduction the general chat. And me and him were just like, “Wouldn’t it be funny way if we had a channel you can't post in called, ‘Elevator,’ and it's just a picture that says, ‘This elevator is out of service’”? And that was just a dumb idea that we… Like there were people in the Discord as we were adding silly things like that. And then that, of course, evolved into the Johnson Wedding on Floor 34. I think I may have come up with that the day of the convention.

Ani-Gamers: It was a beautiful addition. I’m a huge fan of running gags, so all of the in-jokes with the broken elevator and the Johnson Wedding just really kinda made this home.

John-Paul: Con-Ops is fairly standard stuff. We had a Help Desk, we got that idea from QuaranCon. The Anime Lockdown Live, that was Tony’s idea to just have the Twitter re-post, which I don’t know if a lot of people used that, but I thought it was cool. Showoff cosplay and party rooms were things that I added, and then Tony had ideas on other stuff we could do in them. And I think that’s everything.

Ani-Gamers: Yeah, I saw, because I was hanging out in the Discord quite a bit, I really liked the fact that, because there were so many rooms, it was kinda emulative of a college con, where you had just enough space where people had to be separated but just kinda stayed in one place for a little while and then maybe went o a different room for a little while.

But I saw a lot of positive feedback in the Discord regarding first-time attendees, specifically those referring to physical disabilities or social anxiety or finance-related concerns. They said, “Oh, well I’ve never attended a con before. So this is my first con.” And, surprisingly, there was just this wealth of love, like “Great! Check out this!” and “What do you think about this?” And it was people being inclusive in conversations.

Ani-Gamers: How do you see events such as these as well as Anime Lockdown specifically continuing past Covid-19 pandemic? And what changes do you see, after running a convention, that might need to be made?

John-Paul: Ooh, that’s a good question. The cynical side of me thinks that a lot of these online conventions aren’t going to continue once they’re no longer a necessary thing that we’re being forced to do. That being said, I want to keep doing it because of how many people I saw say that this was their first, because live cons have never been an option for them. I think for a lot of the big cons, they're not going to have the resources to do two things. But I think the indie shows for sure. I don't know; I had a lot of fun, and I want to do it again. I can't speak for the other shows. But like there is a… I'm trying to think of all the names. I think like Comic-Con might be doing one, and there was one this past day, called like Pop Culture Expo, that  had a bunch of like actors, and obviously FUNimationCon.  I don't know if those are going to continue; I think that that is people doing that because they don't have a choice, which is a shame, because I do think that there is … I don't want to say a market, because we didn't charge, but I definitely think that there's a place for events like this, because all these people that can't go to Cons – why shouldn't they be allowed to get to watch panels and share their cosplay? You know? I may be not wording this the best way, but I want there to be more. Here's my prediction though with, if there is an Anime Lockdown 2021, I don't think there's going to be industry panels. I think that we got those, because industry needed a place to announce their products; that's not going to be a problem next year. Actors, I think it's still possible, but it might be a little harder because actual cons are going to be asking for them and paying for their fees and whatnot. Getting panelists I think… I think people always want to share their panels. But I do think that moving forward online cons will be different. I don't think they're going to be less fun, but I'm not expecting a, “Hey let's announce six 6 anime at, you know, Anime Lockdown 2021.” I’m fairly realistic that that was very much a lightning in a bottle situation.

Ani-Gamers: Do you think something like GoFundMe or Kickstarter might help reign in some talent in the future or some of the “higher-end programming”?

John-Paul: I think it could, but it’s very much against my core values with the convention. I made a point very early on that I didn't want to involve outside money, don't want to ask people to pay a cover, I don't want to ask people to donate so we can get a guest, I don't want to tell people to go to my Patreon. These are things that, they go against my core beliefs with creating … I don’t want to say content, because that word is now kind of being turned into a gross word, but that's just how I prefer to present my art. And that doesn't mean that other people are wrong, but I don't feel right charging people for things. So if we do get another guest, that's something that I would be handling. But I want to remain self-funded.

Ani-Gamers: That’s really cool. That’s a lot of heart right there.

John-Paul: It’s not that expensive. [laughs]

Ani-Gamers: Well, it's your time and your effort. And even though you put this whole tthing together in just about a month, the result was fantastic.

So in that entire time, or during the con itself, what was one of your most treasured moments as either staff or attendee (providing you actually had a moment to appreciate the con as an attendee at the time)?

John-Paul: I didn’t really get to go to my own convention. So there were a few highlights for me. The interview/Q&A I did with Kyle is is one of the most proudest moments of my journalistic career. I would say I'm not a professional journalist, but I've done amateur journalism, I’ve done radio. That is one of the highlights; it's one of the best things I've ever done in terms of execution I think. I think it was the best sounding panel. I think it had the most natural flow of anything I've done in terms of an interview setting. I'm very happy with how that turned out. But then from a fan side, when Veronica Taylor said she chooses me in Ash’s voice, I almost broke down in tears during the convention. That was something that I didn't expect her to do, and hearing a voice that I grew up with thank me for something was … it's not something you ever expect to encounter, so it was very, very weird. It was a very special moment. And I have a recording of that, which is kind of dope. [laughs]. Eight-hundred plus people at the Discotec panel was really awesome. That's the highest number of people that were at the entire event throughout the weekend. I think it might have been 850 total? I’m not sure on the exact numbers. [Ink’s] panel, actually, when I saw how hype the chat was getting – that was a big moment for me, when they kept copy-pasting, “BUT I HATE SPORTS ANIME!!!!!!!!.” Getting to do panels with Mark again was a great moment. Me and Mark did panels together for a decade in Minnesota, and then when I moved, that was no longer an option for me.

Ani-Gamers: That was the Criticism of Film Criticism panel?

John-Paul: Yes, and then he also did a panel on Americanization that he asked me to join him in, so that was a lot of fun. But also, as you mentioned and I've mentioned, being able to help so many people was really special – all these people saying that they've never been to a con and this is their first time and they're having fun. Watching people enjoy the rave! I didn't think that was going to work and people loved it.

Ani-Gamers: What kind of reactions did you see from that? I used it as background music myself.

John-Paul: Sure, I mean the chat was posting a lot of dance-type emojis, which I assume means that they were dancing. Some people were saying that they turned on like a strobe light in their apartment and they were dancing. A ton of people were tipping Obi-Wan [Shinobi], which was not something I expected. Because, again, “We’re not about money, let’s not blah, blah, blah…” but I was like, “Oh, yeah, he’s kinda like a vendor. So I should be saying, “Hey, just like the vendors, this is his job. This is how he makes a living, and now he's out of work. So like, if you enjoy what he does, he has donation links available.” I don't know how many people donated. He didn't tell me. But I know that he made a decent amount of money, which is great, ‘cause like, you know, when was the last time he got to play in a club? Probably two months ago? That's rough! And especially for freelancers and like performance artists, it's really hard ‘cause you don't always qualify for unemployment

Ani-Gamers: So the last question I have for you, well it’s a two-parter: a) have you ever staffed a con before?

John-Paul No.

Ani-Gamers: So now having run an entire con, when you next are able to go to a con, what will you be paying a little bit of closer attention to?

John-Paul: Ooh, so the way that I attend cons is kinda weird. I don't really go to the con, and that's kind of insane considering that I spend all this money on hotel rooms and the badges and all that. But a con for me is a time to hang out with like-minded friends that I don't live near. And so Otakon is really special to me, because, like, I don't see these people ever. I've got friends that live in Arizona. I have friends that live in D.C. I have friends that live in Minnesota. But we all go to Otakon. And so, I like to go to the dealers room a lot. That's kind of my main thing that I'll do; I'll just bum around the dealers room. Occasionally I'll go to panels, but my problem with larger conventions (and this isn't the fault of the conventions, so I don't want to paint it in that light): I don't want to wait in line to get into the panel I want to go to, and I usually want to go to the ones that you have to wait in line to go to. Which is something that I was really happy with [Anime] Lockdown is that for the very first time anybody that wanted to go to the Discotek panel got to go to the Discotek panel. Every single person that wanted to go to the Kyle Hebert panel got to go to the Kyle Hebert panel. You didn't have to wait in line for an hour and like not get to go to lunch with your friend because you're waiting to maybe get allowed in. One of the, I don’t want to say one of the worst moments, but one of the bummer moments of conventions for me was last Otakon; I showed up early to meet Studio Trigger. Me and my friend Adam, I think it was Adam, we were some of the first people there. We got in the line as soon as we could. It was still a very long line, and we were still here fairly far behind. But we showed up like 40 minutes early to wait to wait in line and then waited in line for, I don't know, it must have been an hour or two hours. I was cut off like four people before I would have gotten to go, and that is SO, so devastating. But then it's like I forget that also there's all the people behind me that also din’t get to go, and there's the person that would have been next – they didn't get to go either. And that's something that it's an unfortunate thing that happens at conventions. There's no way around that; Trigger can't meet every single fan … it's just not possible. But I really like that I was able to give an opportunity to people to go to these events and not have to worry about not getting in. So that’s kind of a long version of why I don't tend to go to panels. I like them. I want to go to the fun and exciting ones like everybody else, and so I spend more time looking at merch, hanging out with people, go to a lot of party rooms.

Ani-Gamers: Thank you very much for coming on and talking about the con, and thank you even more so for putting on the con and all the efforts. It meant a lot to a lot of people, including myself.

John-Paul: I’m happy to do it. It was a good time. It's already been a week! Which is WILD. Like right now, the con would have, I think, been over or would have been wrapping up. The week went by really fast, but I'm glad that everybody enjoyed it. I would happily do it again … just not [laughs] not for a year … not for at least six months. We have some ideas for stuff that we want to do. I haven't made anything official yet. We talked about it at closing ceremonies: maybe doing some kind of like audio zine, which could be interesting but it would rely very heavily on participation, because it's not going to be me doing features; it's going to be other people doing stuff. It’s kinda like mini-panels, and then I'd introduce each one and then put them together maybe like an hour and a half. Podcast? But I’m calling it a magazine, ‘cause that’s cooler?

Ani-Gamers: Speaking of the con being over, I keep checking in on the Discord, because I always get the notifications that there are new messages in there. When are you actually going to shut that down, or are you going to shut that down?

Jon-Paul: Well, we wanted to see how things faded away organically, which it's been … it has. I think like 300 people left on their own, which is understandable or expected. But me and Tony didn't want to cut things off, because people were still talking, and we also wanted to make sure that people had access to the vendors in case there were any issues that needed to be taken care of or things that need to be finalized. I don't know. We’ll revisit in another week. If nobody's talking, then we’ll probably shut it down. I don't know a lot about Discord. I imagine there's a way to kick people out without deleting it because I want to… Obviously for research, we want to keep it so we can see what worked and see what didn't work. You know, if we need to copy paste any features or whatever, we're going to need the archive for that. But we're letting it happen organically, because we didn’t know if all these new friends have shared contact information yet. We don’t want to cut people off.

Ani-Gamers Interview with John-Paul originally appeared on Ani-Gamers on June 19, 2020 at 4:57 PM.

By: Ink

[sobdasha]

I WISH YOU WOULD WRITE A FIC WHERE LINK TEACHES OLD HYLIAN AT EAST CASTLETON PREP WHERE HYLIAN MILITARY HISTORY TEACHER ZELDA HARKINIAN ALSO WORKS

((the problem with answering these asks is that I have to save them in drafts so I can edit the formatting before posting, but reblogs in my drafts are sorted by the time I sent them to drafts and asks in my drafts are sorted by “this was originally sent to you 3 years ago, so we’ll file it 3 years back instead of making it the most recent thing you sent to drafts” ffffffff guys))

***

When Shad gets afancy letter that says he’s being awarded that grant he’s beenapplying for for years, they all pitch in for a little party in thefaculty lounge. Link kind of wishes they were sending Shad offproperly, at a bar, but he does the best he can by pitching in somepunch that is made of pumpkins.

Well, mostlypumpkins, And it’s mostly not Ordona cider (which isdefinitely mostly pumpkins), and it’s after classes anyway, so it’sfine.

They are celebratingthat Shad, lucky bastard that he is, will be spending the fall termon a mostly-funded vacation right adjacent to the famous DeathMountain Goron Hot Springs, while the rest of them, like Link and hiswatered-down cider, will still be here.

Ilia said that Linkought to get out of rural Ordon and see some other bit of the world.Ilia, who went off to become a doctor but remembers to write her dadand visit regularly and how come Rusl and Uli say they haven’t seenyou in months hmm?, said that Link had better go and makesomething of himself.

So he went and gothis teaching certificate and has made himself a lot poorer, mostly.He misses Ordon, where he could find free food lying on the ground,or swimming in the streams. Here in Castleton you have to pay for itif you pick it up, or risk causing an inter-kingdom fishing rightsdispute with the Zora if you drop a line in the river. So instead ofturning up at Rusl and Uli’s house for dinner, these days he orderstakeout and listens to the delivery persons say “Oh goddessesI’m sorry!” when he absently signs thanks while collecting hisfood.

Fado, who stayed inOrdon not making anything of himself and instead making cheese, isapparently putting away heaps of money.

So Link, who needsmoney and hates enjoying sleep times, finishes his punch so his handsare free to tell Shad that he’ll take over his Old Hylian class whileShad is on sabbatical.

***

Link doesn’tactually know any Old Hylian. But, he reasons after the fact, howhard can it be? After all, Link already teaches HSL, so that meanshe’s a linguist like Shad, right? He’s practically an expert already.

Plus, Link is goingto have the exact same textbook to learn from as his new students,except he’s going to have a head-start and he has theeven-bigger answer key. He literally can’t go wrong.

Besides, Old Hylianis a dead language (which has been reincarnates into Modern Hylian)so it won’t hurt it too much when a bunch of teens brutally murderit. They’re already doing quite a good job on Modern Hylian and it’sstill limping along just fine.

And it’s not likeanyone speaks it anyway, aside from nerdy archaeologists andhistorians (note to self: ask Sarge about it?). So all Link reallyhas to worry about is the writing aspect.

Yeah. It’ll be easymoney.

***

Somehow the rumorgets around before Link gets his ass in front of the school board.Reportedly, so many students have been asking Guidance Councilor GorCoron about the Old Hylian class that they might have to divide itinto two sections.

The school boardapproves Link to take over on the spot.

***

Link has just enoughtime for a proper power nap at his desk between his first Old Hylianclass and his Hylian Sign Language class. But Sarge has a break atthe same time which she usually takes in the faculty lounge, to takeadvantage of the tea kettle while she grades or lesson-plans or readsbooks that have nothing to do with historical military campaigns.

The thing about“Sergeant Snowpeak” Zelda Harkinian, with her no-nonsensedress suits, and her stern librarian bun, and her sensible militaryboots, and her severe black-rimmed (actually fake, she admitted toLink, the lenses are plastic but, well, the frames looked the partand she’s always admired the image of a woman in uniform) spectacles,and her baton that’s ideal for pointing to the blackboard or rappingon a desk, and her old-fashioned bathroom and hall passes…the thingis, she’s quick to make a joke. She has a very small laugh, so youhave to watch for it. She’s thoughtful, she thinks about thingsbehind that serious face, and she’ll come up to you with a deadpanand witty response to a joke you made a week ago.

Zelda takes off herboots sometimes in the faculty lounge; there was a big run in thefoot of her nylons once, and she laughed about her toe poking out.She washes the dishes left in the faculty sink, but she hums whileshe does it because she likes things tidy. She walks just a littleheavier than she needs to, so her boots will ring out in EastCastleton Prep’s halls.

(She has it on goodauthority that the sound of her boot heels approaching can send moresensitive students into tizzies of anxiety. So her first term, on theday of final exams, Miss Harkinian thoughtfully removed her bootsbefore striding to the classroom. The sight of her suddenlymaterializing in the doorway, test papers in hand, somehow didnothing to calm her students’ nerves.)

She can hold herliquor, but she can’t carry a tune. She never learned to cook forone, because that would be a waste of good leftovers. She thinks thatHylian Military History is a crucial subject that teaches teenagersabout strategy and critical reasoning and logical thought, aboutpracticality and consequences, about wilderness survival skills, andwill help them become somewhat-sensible young adults.

Sarge worked withathletics teacher Ashei one year to host an archery tournament forthe Feast of Din, and she shot an apple off Link’s head withouttelling him first that this was why she’d ushered him up to thepodium.

The thing is, inshort, Link has a huge crush on Zelda Harkinian. He likes her.He is, in fact, completely smitten, although he hasn’t realized he’squite so far gone despite the fact that he regularly tells the catsat Impaz’ shelter What Sarge Did Today complete with little sighs.

So it’s a bit of ashame she doesn’t feel quite the same way.

Link did ask Zeldaonce if she’d like to “embrace diversity,” but she didn’tseem interested.

***

Zelda quite likesShad, don’t get her wrong. But, she admits to Telma, if only he’dgotten a grant that let him spend the whole year onsabbatical…

This is surely ablessing from the goddesses. Not that Zelda would wish undue stresson Link but, for all his enthusiasm about taking on Shad’s OldHylian, he seems to be finding the subject very hard going. And ofcourse Zelda has a bit of expertise to share–after all, the seminaltext in her field, Sword in Hand, is originally in OldHylian–so he can come to her with any small questions…

…And he does.

Almost every dayLink catches her in the faculty lounge for a few minutes ofconjugation here, or pops into her empty classroom for a bit ofdeclension there, or accompanies her on her walk home for adiscussion of the merits of this translation over that.

It’s not as thoughshe needs an excuse to get to know Link better. She already knows himquite well. But a little bit of extra time is…nice, since they’realready good enough friends that Zelda knows he’s in a committedrelationship with Old Cat Lady Lifestyle.

The cats, thedrinking, the napping all the time, the surprisingly full socialcalendar that Zelda can’t quite squeeze into…in other words, allthe hallmarks of spinster-dom.

It’s just a bit of ashame, seeing as he’s the only slightly-rumpled and generally-mussything she actually doesn’t mind looking at.

In any case, she’stried gauging his interest, and it’s just not there. Anytime shetries to feel him out with a pick-up line, he deflects with acorrection on her grammar or a compliment about how her signing iscoming along. Clearly, Link’s completely satisfied with theirrelationship exactly as it is.

So Zelda will be,too.

***

This is the one,Midna had said, grinning wickedly. This is absolutely stupid enoughto work on that dumbass, Midna had said, with evil glee.

All sorts ofoptimistic hope flowered in Zelda’s chest at the sight of thatparticular expression on her ex-girlfriendcurrent-long-distance-BFF’s face. This had to be good.

So Zelda caught Linkin between classes and asked him, “Am I so beautiful you’respeechless?”

Link repeated itback to her, tweaking the body language a bit to make beautifula little sassier, waited for her to sign it again, and then gave hera thumb’s up and walked off.

***

(Link wished hewere the one she was saying that to, but oh well. He supports herhappiness! Zelda’s his friend, after all.)

***

One of the girlsstays after class, all the way from Hylian Sign Language nearly up toOld Hylian round 2, getting Mr. Link to teach her, painstakingly overand over, how to ask the girl she likes if she’ll go to the Nayru’sDay Dance with her. It’s going to take 5 minutes at the start ofclass tomorrow, she informs Mr. Link, and also a lot of glitter.

In Link’s day–ohgoddesses, he’s old now–they just slipped notes or asked withoutthe performance art. Actually, Ilia usually just informed Link thatthey would be going together to share on the ticket cost. But kidsthese days seem to believe a gift is customary.

Link is old, though,so he just slips Zelda a note.

“I can’t readyour handwriting,” she tells him. “Oh! By the way, I signedup to run the concessions stand at the dance. Perhaps you’d like tojoin me?”

***

Heads bent overcandies and little bags of popcorn and assortments of soda, with thecash box between them, Link asks Zelda to help him brainstorm somereally evil ideas for his Old Hylian final exam. Link isn’t much intodifficult tests, as a rule, because they involve more work to grade.But he doesn’t want Shad to think he’s been slacking.

Link asks Zelda ifshe’d come over to his place for dinner one evening, you know, tokeep working on the exam. Since he needs so much help with it. And tothank her. For helping.

***

She says yes.