#sometimes I want more folks to ask stuff but I get nervous I’ll just forget lol

[downydig]

If you sent me an ask at some point I’m sorry if I haven’t responded to it

I get so many at a time and I get nervous about answering them all! So many wonderful treats and goodies in there!

I’ll slowly make my way through the ones I get but thank you all for the kindness through words (and art sometimes wowwie!)!

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

Hello you told me not to hold back so I’m gonna be ANNOYING feel free to ignore indefinitely until you’re feeling it but I’m gonna send you like a bunch of prompts cause I can’t sleep and am stalling finishing my own fic.

First one: Bobby (obviously), Reggie or Luke or friends I don’t even care, tea and blankets

lol hi have a rebuke cuddle-puddle disaster, also available on ao3 here. warning for swearing and very vague allusions to physical child abuse.

i guess we belong to each other | reggielukebobby | 1.8k words

--

Luke has his guitar in his lap and his writing notebook by his side even though it's late at night. He's playing his acoustic, so that he has no chance of stirring Bobby's parents from where he's sat in their studio, and though he'd never admit it to anyone, it's cold enough that he's found one of Alex's hoodies in the back of the studio, a black one Alex never wears any more, and he's bundled up in it to try to fight off the chills. He regrets storming out earlier this evening — not because his parents might be worried, he's still too mad at them for that, but because he misses his own warm bed in a house with central heating.

But it's late, and he doesn't want to bother Bobby, who's already been generous enough as it is (and is exceptionally grumpy when he's woken in the middle of the night). So Alex's old hoodie, smelling vaguely of the dusty studio and distantly of Alex, will have to do.

A noise distracts Luke from his writing. Something outside the studio, maybe an animal, but it sounded like footsteps. Cautiously, he draws his guitar closer, running through what he could say if it's Bobby's parents, his heart suddenly rabbit-fast in his chest.

A head pokes through the door.

Luke's shoulders drop with relief.

It's Reggie.

He looks a little scruffy, not like himself, because usually Reggie pays such close attention to his appearance, fusses over his hair and colour-codes his outfits and shaves with the precision of a professional painter. But he kinda looks messy, which makes Luke's stomach feel even colder than the air around him.

“Oh! Hey, man,” Reggie laughs, putting on a big smile, and it'd fool anyone else — Reggie's too experienced at this for his own good. “I didn't know you'd be here!”

“Hi, Reg,” says Luke, sounding a little distracted even to his own ears as he carefully looks Reggie over. He's not walking like he's been hurt, and there are no visible injuries. So that's something. Jesus, Luke wouldn't know what to do if Reggie turned up here with a fresh version of the bruises Luke sometimes catches him trying to hide. “You, uh — you good?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Reggie agrees easily, saunters into the studio and slumps down on the couch next to Luke. The relaxed way he moves soothes Luke's worry somewhat. “The house was just — ugh. You know how they can be.” Looking over at Luke, Reggie adds, “Hey, isn't that Alex's hoodie? I was wondering what had happened to that.”

“Hey!” Luke sputters, a little defensive. “He didn't, like, loan it to me or anything, it was just here! I found it.”

“It is cold,” Reggie concedes, pulling his flannel a little tighter around him. “Wish I'd brought my jacket, but it was in the kitchen and I didn't wanna. I dunno. Didn't wanna get in the way.”

Luke nods, puts his guitar to the side so he can press up against Reggie's side. Hip to hip, his cheek on Reggie's shoulder, links their ankles together and puts an arm over Reggie's stomach. Almost automatically, Reggie links his arms around Luke in turn.

Honestly, Luke was intending to steal some of Reggie's body heat, but after Reggie's walk outside and in such a thin layer, he thinks Reggie's probably leeching his own. Luke lets him go ahead; Reggie seems to need it more than he does.

They sit for a moment, both unusually quiet, huddling and not talking. Not so much for a lack of things to talk about, but more because any topic that comes to Luke's mind feels insurmountably complex and emotional. There’s so much stuff he can't tell Reggie — so much stuff Reggie isn't telling him. So they sit together and try to create some warmth without the need for disclosure.

Until there's another set of scuffled footsteps outside.

“Not Alex too,” Reggie sighs, at a whispered volume so that the newcomer can't hear him, “he squirms so much in his sleep, man, I can't share this pull-out with him again.”

Luke muffles a laugh with the back of his hand, but he can't help worry it's Alex, too. Things have been... okay, he thinks, with Alex's folks since he came out, but he also knows Alex hoped for better. Suspects there are things Alex isn't telling them (so they all have that in common).

But it's not Alex. Preceded by an armful of blankets that he's almost tripping on, Bobby staggers in, still in his pajamas and with his eyes almost all the way closed. “Luke? It's fucking freezing, I thought I'd—” He stops when he gets far enough in to see Reggie on the couch too. “Oh, shit.”

“Hey, Bobby,” says Reggie, voice a little nervous. “I hope it's okay that I—”

“Shut up,” Bobby grumbles, and dumps the whole pile of blankets on top of Reggie. “You guys are stupid. You're both out here, in the freezing cold, and neither of you come wake me up?”

“We didn't want—” Luke starts, at the same time as Reggie insists, “You were sleeping—!”

“Idiots,” Bobby growls, rubbing his eye with his sweater paw and yawning. He looks stupidly cute, like a little kid. “You're idiots, and I hate dealing with you. I'll be back.” Turning to leave the studio again, he turns back and adds, “Hurry up and burrito yourselves in those blankets, I swear to god. And Luke, isn’t that Alex’s hoodie?”

“He left it—!” Luke starts, but Bobby’s already gone, leaving Luke with Reggie, cackling at him.

—

By the time Bobby returns, Luke and Reggie have folded the couch out into its bed form, and are snuggling under the several blankets, giggling together as they talk about how grumpy Bobby had been.

“We should have woken him up,” Reggie snorts, “I think then he would have been less pissed.”

“I would have,” Bobby agrees, sounding somewhere between menacing and amused, as he reappears over them. His hair is all shaggy in his face. He's carrying a teapot. And cups. “Sit up.”

Luke does right away, Reggie pulling himself up a little slower. Bobby sits cross-legged at the foot of the couch-bed, tucking his socked toes under his own legs to keep warm, and pours them each a mug of what smells like peppermint tea. Suddenly, Luke can't imagine anything better in the world. When Bobby offers him a cup, he takes it eagerly, wrapping his cold hands around it and enjoying the steam wafting up to his face.

“Wow,” says Reggie softly, eyes wide, “thanks, Bobby.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Luke echoes, letting out a sigh as he takes his first sip.

“Forget it,” Bobby says, a little bitey. Luke knows it's because Bobby hates being seen as nice, so he doesn't take it personally, and he knows Reggie won't either. He has his own cup, which he drinks as though it's done something to offend him, scowling off into the corner of the studio. Reggie nudges Bobby with his foot from under the layers of blankets, and a tiny smile tugs at Bobby's mouth as he nudges Reggie back with his elbow.

After the cup of tea, Luke feels better. He feels warmer on the inside, now, and sleepy too. Reggie is starting to get that dopey, slow blink that shows he's on the verge of sleep as well. Bobby clears his throat and holds out a hand, beckoning for their empty cups. Luke and Reggie hand them over.

“Okay,” says Bobby, after a pause. “G'night, guys.” He goes to stand, but Reggie leans forward and catches Bobby's sleeve.

“Would you stay?” he asks, as if he can't help himself, as if on sheer impulse, but he doesn’t look embarrassed afterwards.

“Reg!” Luke says, a little startled. “It's cold out here, he won't want—”

But he sees Bobby's face, and he stops himself. Because he can see it in Bobby's eyes. That he does want. He’s Bobby, so he won't say it, his mouth pressed into a thin line, his gaze fixed on some point behind Luke and Reggie's heads, but Luke has known Bobby for too long to miss something this obvious, no matter what else Bobby can hide from him.

“That being said,” Luke backtracks hurriedly, “it would be warmer with you here, Wilson. I'm happy to be a leech.”

“That's all I'm good for, huh?” Bobby snorts, but he's already setting the mugs down on the floor near the side of the bed, already shuffling the teapot down there too. He hops up for a moment, and Luke wonders where he’s going, before he realises Bobby is just switching off the light. When Bobby comes back, he pauses, like he's not sure where he fits, and Luke and Reggie make eye contact for only a second before they move apart, leaving a space in the middle.

Bobby looks even less sure of himself, eyebrows knitted, jaw tight. His hands flex and one of them twists in the hem of his sweater. Luke gets it. It looks too much like it's on Bobby's behalf, like they’re doing it to make space for Bobby. Bobby’s always had trouble accepting anything that seems like it’s for his own benefit.

“I already sucked all Reggie's warmth up,” Luke explains.

“Yeah,” Reggie agrees immediately, and Luke loves him, “and you're warmer than Luke anyway, man. I wanna huddle with you. As a penguin, you would be my first-choice huddle-buddy.”

Bobby barks a laugh. “The fuck? What does that even mean?” Finally, he wriggles his way under the blankets in between them, and rolls his eyes when they both throw limbs over him right away, twining legs and arms together and resting cheeks on his chest.

“Like, if we were penguins. You know? In the winter?” Reggie says, like this is totally obvious and self-explanatory. “If I was a penguin, I'd be looking for the Bobby-penguin in the winter huddle to stick close to.”

“Aaand I'm at my capacity for dumb shit,” Bobby says, closing his eyes pointedly, but it's a scam, because his hands come to run through Luke and Reggie's hair. “Goodnight, morons.”

“Goodnight, Bobby,” they chorus. This close, Luke could almost brush noses with Reggie, has to try to focus his eyes to keep Reggie from getting blurry. Reggie sticks his tongue out at Luke just a little, and Luke grins back, links his fingers with Reggie’s over Bobby’s stomach, rubbing over Reggie’s knuckles until Reggie’s fingers don’t feel so much like icicles. When Luke uses his free hand to tug the neckline of Alex’s hoodie up over his nose, the familiar smell of the third piece of his heart soothes him right down.

The feel of Bobby’s fingernails on his scalp makes Luke’s eyelids flutter, and before he knows it he’s dopey, the world feeling blurrier and safer and cozier. Honestly, more like home than his own house would have. He no longer daydreams of returning to his own warm bed. Instead, he feels the way Bobby’s chest rises and falls with his breaths, pushing his and Reggie’s joined hands up and down. If he listens closely, Luke can hear Bobby’s heartbeat, familiar and steady.

Maybe the cold isn't all bad.

--

other prompt fills here :)

jatp taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @queenmolina @nickalicious @bi-reginald @malecacidd @burntchromas @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @cinnamonstickrayofsunlight @chickwiththepurpleguitar @fairylightsandrainydays @joyandthephantoms @fighttoshine @michelangelinda @queenofthequillandink 

[scandeniall]

story of us

pairing: suna x reader

the story of ur relationship <3; alternatively (more) dating sunarin headcanons but this time is somewhat of an order and talks good and bad 2K+ worth lol

a/n: i had more planned but half of these have been sitting in my notes for months and its kinda fucking long already bc he lives rent free!!!

warnings: uh the usual aged up (in ur 20s time skip type beat), language, yeah

Meeting

Now when y’all met suna was not looking to love at all. That man was just living his life and so where you. The two of you pretty much meet through komori. You’re a friend and it’s his birthday so him and a few of his friends go out for drinks bc why not. Young hot pretty financially stable v-ball players. Nah no ones there for any type of hookups literally just there celebrating a great guy.

They rent out a section at a relatively nice bar tbh. Not the cheapest and you can actually hear conversation. But also not a super expensive one where the patrons are middle aged with jazz music and the occasional track to relive “youth.” Komori’s a sweetie and will come outside to get you when you text that you’re there. You’ve met washio and ofc sakusa Before so you greet them casually then you turn and there’s Suna and a few others you haven’t met.

That greeting isn’t anything special I promise. Just “hey I’m so and so” and vice versa. It’s one of those meetings where you just think “he’s cute” but it’s such a fleeting thought. Y’all don’t even really talk that first night tbh. At the next practice Suna mentions offhandedly that he didn’t know komori was dating someone and komori is like: huh? Yeah sorry. I love (Y/N) and all but were just friends. Suna just shrugs not really caring to be honest until Komori just asks what did he think of you.

“Don’t really remember much man. Seemed cool though” he didn’t think he’d really see you again. Yeah you were close enough to have been at Komori’s birthday but if that was his first time ever meeting you, he figured you weren’t from around there are present very much. Yeah he was wrong.

Suddenly you were on Komori’s snap story more often, or maybe he’d just been noticing more. Too bad he couldn’t even remember your name 💀. Then it turned into you occasionally popping up where he was. He’d been told your name at least 5 times already but wouldn’t remember it the next day. Whenever he’d see you again he’d get a strained look like: “what is this mf name again” just laugh and tell him again bby.

That changed at some random house party by another mutual friend you two apparently had? You two were the only people just around the fire pit trying to catch some warmth in the chilly night. He’s probably just on his phone head bobbing his head to the muffled music from inside. And you’re just like “remember my name yet?” All jokingly. This sparks the tiniest bit of interest in him and he lets out a low chuckle and just admits “not at all.” I also feel like this is the first time he really looks at you and he’s like 🤨, wait you’re actually kinda cute.

That night y’all just kinda talk and vibe. The conversation comes easy as you two jump back and forth from talking about the music playing to sneakers which he brings up to stuff that you like. He’s actually really easy to talk to. So easy that u can forget about him not remembering your name despite meeting several times. You mention that you’d hung around komori before while they were gaming and that he seemed pretty cool. That leads him to asking “how do you know him anyways?”

“I used to date Sakusa”

Mentally he’s just like— ‘yeah I’m not getting involved in this. Time to go.’ Until you just start laughing.

“I’m kidding. He’s not really my type. We met after being paired together for a project in school.”

The two of you spend quite a bit of time just talking that night until you are joined again by some friends and it’s deadass like y’all weren’t just talking for almost an hour straight.

Getting Together

The process of getting together is like a cat and mouse game. You two start getting closer than friends and then something happens and you’re not talking for weeks. Whether it be life just getting busy, and then someone ending up on some random tinder date or so be it. Definitely one of those things were somehow someway y’all end up just hanging on one of your couches watching a movie. At some point there’s definitely a hint of sexual tension but neither of y’all act on it (later on you find on his finsta that he used to post several “i wont you 😔” memes  Folks can’t tell if hes joking or not (hes not))

You probably gotta tell that man you like him so if that ain’t you I’m sorry. Y’all not dating 😹. It’s something casual, y’all going to pick up some snacks for a movie night and why this mf keep looking at you out the side of his eyes instead of the road. You def texting the groupchat asking if you should confess. They tell you to boss up and just do it baby.

You literally end up confessing in that parking lot. Like right when he shuts the car off and starts swinging his keys on his finger and you kinda just blurt “I like you. Like like you.” He just kinda nods before his eyes widen. “Wait are you fr?” Like no you’re joking tf. It gets a lil awkward so you just go to get out the car and he’s like “I like like you too.”

I definitely don’t think either of you ever officially asked the other out it’s just at some point the understanding that you two are a couple. Like when you’re hanging out just you two hes more touchy, and then y’all start kissing and holding hands at some point. Then when you’re with friends he almost exclusively sits next to you and your friends notice the whispers in one another’s ears at the loud bar that seem just a hint too intimate for ppl who are just friends. Then y’all start arriving and leaving places together and people just at some point get the message (it’s later confirmed by you tweeting some shit like: I hate Rin why is that mf my boyfriend)

As far as anniversaries y’all draw straws to pick a day in the ballpark of the time y’all both think you became official. That’s the day you stick with even if it’s not true.

Relationship Flaws

A fault in the relationship is sunas kinda poor communication when it comes to things that matter. How he feels. Arguments. Love sure as hell don’t come east with anyone but when your partner won’t let you in? Yeah that’s like hell. That’s something you struggle with. And then on your end, it’s the impatience with him not letting you in. You try to wrongfully rush it.

 There’s definitely been arguments that stem from him just being upset about something unrelated to the relationship then coming to you for comfort without actually telling you what’s wrong. He kinda just wants to lay with his head on his chest but at some point that’s not enough. Y’all are in a relationship and should be able to talk about your bad days too.

You’re not innocent in this issue either because sometimes it comes off too pushy. Yes it’s from a place of care but sometimes that silent comfort is necessary. The walls will break in due time and y’all both know that deep in the back of your minds But then there’s a part that’s like— yeah we can’t let this become the norm

“Rin, can you please talk to me”

He will have literally told you “whatever” and that he “can’t deal with this rn” several times as he just shrugs and is like yeah “I’m gonna just go home. I’ll text you later” with an awkward ass pat on your shoulder if it really ruined his mood. If he’s leaving before he gets super upset and uncomfortable just some half assed kiss in your cheek

Another thing is I feel like he could be passive aggressive and let’s be real other folks doing it causes you to do it to. Y’all probably drag eachother on your finstas where you can both see it lol

But when it comes to making up he cracks first and apologizes when he started it. Or as y’all get more comfy with communication. If it’s not anything major he’ll just hit you with a text like “I’m bored come hang”

More Relationship Things

I feel like he love/hates driving. Likes the ride not always driving though. So if you ever proposed a late night drive he’d be down (if you offer to drive). He does let y’all take his car though. He reclines the seat pretty far back. Alternates between just closing his eyes vibing w/ the music or kinda just looking at you (he the type of bf that makes u nervous no matter how long y’all been together)The way he looks at you makes you nervous cause that man is fine as hell and you can just feel his eyes on you.

He films you on Snapchat and sends the video to you like “you look hot”

If he’s not ‘resting his eyes’ he’s mumbling along to the music because he has the aux. if y’all music tastes are different he occasionally throws in something you really like bc he likes how you perk up at one of your fav songs

Moving on. Y’all dap eachother up after s3x because it’s “modern romance” (boy stfu). You two came up with a sex playlist together and it’s on both of your phones. Sometimes one of you will add a troll song that the other doesn’t know and put it in the lineup. (Stole my heart by 1D has definitely played before and you were practically in tears laughing at his reaction. That was one of those songs he was like ‘yeah alright i think we’re done).

At some point you two develop your own handshake and it’s cute. Whenever either of you have to travel without the other that’s always the last thing you do before you leave eachother. There’s vids of your friends daring y’all to do your elaborate ass handshake drunk and doesn’t matter what’s in your system, you both know it like the back of your hand.

I think he values quality time a lot so there’s so many nights where you’re both just chilling in his room just doing your own things. He could just be at his desk watching some game highlights and you’re just doing hw on his bed with your own earbuds in work all spread out and he’s content. He’s also attentive so if he calculates that you’ve been working too long he’ll just take ur earbud like “hey let’s go get something to eat.”

People definitely think he’s the lazy one in the relationship but it’s 100% not true. Like stated above, he’s very attentive and can pretty much gauge how you’re feeling in the blink of an eye. He knows when you need alone time but won’t go without reassuring you that he’s here whenever you’re ready. When you do just need him he’s there without a second thought. If you’re more touchy he’ll have your head in his lap his arm running up and down your as you tell him what’s wrong. He knows when to joke about a minor inconvenience and over the course of your relationship knows when to cut the jokes and be serious with you.

He’d never admit it but he knows your coffee order by heart (he keeps up his image my asking wtf do you get everytime. Just let him LOL). He the type to peek at what you plan on wearing and ‘accidentally’ color coordinate then pull some shit like “why are you copying me”

Y’all def shit talk together. See someone doing something completely out of pocket in public— straight to ur phones you go (pack it up shade room). To the public it just looks like you aren’t paying any attention to one another on your dates but y’all are. Just over the phone so u don’t piss off ur target 😌

Y’all are very comfy in your relationship that you just say stuff. Y’all don’t even think.

“Rin, what if i crashed us in this car rn 😹”

“Do it. Might be fun”

When you two finally move in together it’s almost like how your relationship starts. Slowly more and more spares of stuff for you end up at his. He does sorta make the move near the end of your lease and is just like “you’re here more than me anyways.” (hes nervous but swears he’s not. Bby you’re literally shaking). Him moving you in is like hell. This mf takes sooooo long to help with boxes. Picks up 1 then sits for like 15 minutes. You ask for help the first few times and he’s just like “I got you” while continuing to scroll his phone.

Sleepy Shoulder kisses in the mornings. Only form a greeting you get but it’s ok

this is like my 100th dating suna hc and im still going this is SICK. it was so hard to not drop old refs bc i still believe in them 100% yes i do!!!!

[link4eva]

Kiro’s Work Visit Date (探班之约) Translation [CN]

Hi! Just a couple of notes before you begin reading...

This fluffy and wholesome date was just released (March 11, 2021) in the CN server and will eventually be released in the ENG server sometime next year.

I also don’t know any Chinese myself so all of this translation was done through the power of Google Translate and with help from the lovely @keliosyfan​ .

You can read his Couch Potato call that comes with this date here!

Hope you enjoy!~

*Spoilers ahead for future content!*

[First Part]

MC: So now the question is….

Kiro: Wait a minute! I didn’t seem to understand too much of what was said. Let me take a look!

During the video call, Kiro suddenly moved his face close to the screen with excitement.

Kiro: Miss Chips, do you mean that….you’re going to go in person and be a host on the show?

MC: Pretty much….

Some time ago, I did a variety show about a certain European town called “Cloud Tourism”.

The reason it’s called “Cloud Tourism” is because I’ve never been to this small town before. I only got a preliminary understanding of the traditional customs there through a novel.

Out of an abundance of interest, I consulted a lot of relevant sources and finally released a program with the concept of “seeing words as faces”.

Originally it was just an experiment inspired by an idea that didn’t really make any big splashes in China.

Unexpectedly, an internet celebrity from the small town recommended this program on his personal blog which led to it becoming popular very quickly.

Kiro: Oh….slowly but surely, I figured it out.  Not only has this show received great praise, the local TV station also sincerely invited you to come and do some interviews. Even in the form of a reality show, I must say that Miss Chips is amazing!

MC: ......

MC: I think you understand it pretty clearly but some parts are exaggerated….

Kiro: Congratulations, MC!~

Kiro: If I wasn’t shooting abroad, I would definitely take you there to celebrate! But we can celebrate like we did before….

MC: Wait! Wait a minute! I haven’t decided whether to go or not yet….

Kiro: This is a great opportunity to promote the company. Why are you so hesitant?

MC: Although I have previous experience, this would be my first time shooting as the host….

MC: What if I’m too nervous in front of the camera? It’ll affect the shoot.

Kiro: Miss Chips.

On the screen, Kiro sat upright and pushed his glasses up that were nonexistent.

Kiro: It seems that you’ve forgotten that there’s an experienced acting teacher right in front of you.

MC: Pff….I would like to ask Mr. Kiro how I can act natural in front of the camera. 

Kiro: It is very simple. Step one is to do the warm-up exercises in advance. Your shoulders should also be really relaxed. Then imagine the camera as a friend who can’t speak and has big eyes….

A few minutes later, Kiro was still “teaching” very professional acting techniques on the phone screen.

Kiro: Hello, MC, are you still listening?

MC: Um….I don’t think I can do this.

His bright eyes suddenly crinkled upwards, hiding a triumphant smile.

Kiro: I’m just teasing you. In fact, you only need to remember the first few steps.

MC: But I’m worried that if I get nervous, I’ll forget those first few steps. I hope that I can become Kiro that day!

Kiro curled his lips up again when he heard those words.

Kiro: Then close your eyes and hypnotize yourself….

Kiro: “I am the superstar Kiro!” 

[Second Part]

At five o’clock in the morning in the dressing room at the local TV station.

I tilted my head to face the makeup artist and held back yet another yawn.

The makeup artist whispered a few words to the accompanying translator and then left the dressing room.

Translator: Miss MC, the makeup artist has finished your makeup. The director will be here shortly. You can rest for a while.

I nodded gratefully. This country’s language is one that I’m not familiar with so the TV station specifically hired an interpreter.

As soon as I closed my eyes, I felt my phone vibrate.

Kiro: MC, are you still in makeup?

MC: Just finished. Are you ready to start work too?

Kiro: I’ve already been working for an hour.

MC: Why so early? It’s only five o’clock where you are!

Kiro: Don’t worry, I’m used to this kind of shooting routine.

Although I’ve known before that Kiro started almost every filming session in the morning, this was the first time experiencing it for myself. It’s hard work getting up early and putting on makeup.

What’s more, he often works overtime to catch up on his other stuff and rarely has enough time to rest.

MC: Then you must take time to rest!

Kiro: It’s okay. If I’m tired, I just close my eyes and think of Miss Chips’ smile. 

Kiro seemed to take a deep breath on the other end.

Kiro: Hmm~ Charging is complete!

I seemed to see him being content and I couldn’t help being amused by him. 

Kiro: By the way, what is your shooting schedule today?

MC: It’s sightseeing shooting. The director arranged to take me to several local attractions and I can also choose places of interest. 

MC: The first stop on the agenda is to explore the shop on the pedestrian street.

Kiro: Great! I heard from the crew that there is a famous cake shop on the pedestrian street of that small town. I will send you the address.

Kiro: Only by filling up your stomach and replenishing your energy can you be in the best state!

(Cut to the street)

MC: Well….

I watched my stiff expression and rigid body in the video replay. I couldn’t help but curl my toes and pick at the ground.

Director: Take it easy, alright?

I nodded slowly.

The director looked at me with sympathy and discussed some things with the translator for a while.

Translator: The director wants to know if you have anything you want to do. He suggested that if we start with one of your interests first, you’ll get into the right state of mind faster.

MC: Well, there is one place….

I almost immediately thought of the cake shop that Kiro had mentioned.

(Cut to cake shop)

Because of how early it was in the morning when we arrived at this cake shop called “Flipped”, the first batch of pastries had just come out of the oven. 

I was standing in front of the shop window outside the store while the director was preparing for shooting and I made adjustments for myself. 

Shoulders down, jaw relaxed, a smile appeared on my face. I recalled the formula Kiro taught me.

Close your eyes. Look into your heart.

“I’m the “not afraid of anything” Kiro!”

A burst of mellow sweetness lingered wantonly in the air. I opened my eyes and focused on the window again.

A pair of bright and familiar smiling eyes appeared in the window. The owner of these smiling eyes waved to me.

I felt my heart jump out of my chest.

Kiro: Hello, Miss Chips~ 

Looking at the two intersecting faces on the window glass, I finally couldn’t help but smile.

Oops, I really did become Kiro.

[Third Part]

I didn’t expect Kiro to have secretly been planning to see me on set. I was pleasantly surprised and realized that I was deceived by him during the morning call.

I made a “follow me” gesture to him through the glass.

(Cut to alleyway)

In the alleyway next to the cake shop, I wiped away the shock in my heart and checked, again and again, to make sure that no one else had followed us.

Kiro: Don’t worry, MC. Almost all the folks in this small town will have no idea who I am. And….

He pointed proudly to the sunglasses on his nose.

Kiro: I also came prepared.

I looked around and around and deliberately put on a face of worry.

MC: Why are you here? Weren’t you filming in another country?

Kiro: Actually, I don’t have any shooting arrangements today. It only takes an hour and a half to fly to this country from the shooting location. And it only takes two hours to take the train from the town’s airport.

MC: No matter how easy you make it sound, that was no easy journey….

MC: And with this time off, you should be resting in the hotel.

He pulled down his sunglasses aggrievedly. 

Kiro: But I really wanted to visit you at work for once, and give you encouragement at your side, just like what you did for me last time.

Kiro: And more importantly, I really missed you…. 

(Here’s a cute little clip of this dialogue uploaded by @cheri-translates​  !)

MC: Kiro….

All of my pretentious arrogance dissipated in an instant and I was about to reach out and hug him. But, he crossed his arms in front of him.

Kiro: But speaking of shooting, I just observed it secretly and your performance does have some small flaws.

Kiro: Your expressions are small and stiff, your movements are rigid and tiny, and your eye contact flutters from time to time….

Kiro: Also, you can walk without looking at the camera…. If I look at the camera while walking, [robot noises] don’t I look like a robot?

The more he talked about it, the more he assumed the coach position. He made a great show of it too.

I was so embarrassed that I nodded my head to accept the criticism with shame.

Kiro: Hahahaha--I’ll stop teasing you. 

He leaned over and squished my cheek and curled his lips again.

Kiro: Although, I can see that you are a bit nervous. I’m used to seeing your confident working style as a producer on set….

Kiro: It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you this nervous. You can do it, love! *Did my own interpretation of what he said here cause I had no clue what Google was trying to say lol.*

He opened his arms and the morning sun fell on his shoulders.

Kiro: Come on, Miss Chips.

Kiro: Thank you for your hard work. For that, you get a rechargeable hug from Kiro.

I nodded my head hard and as soon as I took a step of joy, the director poked his head out of the alley. 

Director: Stand by, sweety!

I slammed the brakes and took out my phone, pretending to take a call. I shook my head slightly at Kiro.

He immediately showed me an aggrieved expression and I gave him a wink.

MC: It’s okay, I’ve already learned a recharging trick from Teacher Kiro.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, sketching a picture of bright, smiling eyes on the pitch-black canvas.

When I opened my eyes, those smiling eyes gradually merged with Kiro’s in front of me.

MC: Charging is complete~

(Cut to inside cake shop)

Under the guidance of Kiro, “the super professional”, I calmed down and tried to get into the shooting state.

However, in order to not affect my shooting state, Kiro pretended to be a stranger and waited silently near the shooting location.

When I don’t know which dessert to choose, he would raise his voice and give me a hint.

With pastry crumbs hanging on the corner of my mouth, he pointed at the corner of his mouth and winked at me until I understood what he meant.

During the filming, there were children running around noisily, so he used the tablecloth on the table to do some tricks to attract their attention.

Perhaps because of his “invisible” companionship, I really became more natural before I knew it.

Translator: The shooting in the store is OK! The director said that we are going to shoot some scenes on the pedestrian street next. Miss MC just needs to walk around the street casually.

After checking the route with the director in the cake shop, I realized that the table where Kiro was sitting was empty.

(Cut to the street)

I walked out of the cake shop and looked around but did not find him.

Without giving me too much time to think, the director shouted to start behind the camera.

I tried to walk the streets with peace of mind but my eyes subconsciously looked for Kiro.

Although the sun is shining in the early spring, there is still a bit of a chill in the air that has just warmed up.

Inexplicably, my heart is a little empty.

There was hustle and bustle on the other side of the street and my gaze followed the prestige in the center surrounded by a group of local children. The familiar blonde hair was dazzling and shining.

Kiro was holding a few yellow balloons in his hand with the children cheering around him as if he had helped them stop the balloons from flying away.

He squatted down and handed them the balloons one by one.

As if he could feel my gaze, he turned around and gave me an unreserved smile.

The empty part of my heart instantly filled up at this moment.

I retracted my gaze and found that the director was gesturing at me to continue walking. I quickly continued to walk.

When I pretended to spontaneously look to the other side of the road, I found Kiro with his hands in his pockets walking at the same pace as me.

Although separated by the road, he walked with me in such a special way.

The approaching noon sunshine finally had the temperature as spring.

[Fourth Part]

The shooting had finally come to an end before dusk came.

But Kiro disappeared when I was filming the last scenic spot.

As soon as I had finished work, I took out my phone to check it and found that Kiro had sent me two text messages half an hour ago.

Kiro: MC, I will have filming tomorrow so I have to rush to take the last train.

Kiro: Also, you performed well. I know my MC is the best.

I hurriedly called Kiro but the call informed me that his phone was turned off.

I took a look at the time and it was about 20 minutes away from the shooting location to the train station in town.

Maybe Kiro has boarded the return train and even arrived at the airport….

However, before I could think rationally, I didn’t hesitate to reach out and stop a taxi.

(Cut to the train station)

Due to the small population of the town, the train station at dusk is deserted.

I couldn’t understand the local language on the big screen at the station so I stood on tiptoe and looking into the waiting area in the hall.

Benches in the waiting area, a window for manual ticket purchases, on both sides of the platform, beside the vending machine.

Kiro wasn’t there.

My shoulders drooped in disappointment and I walked slowly towards the station gate.

The setting sun gives off the last bit of its light and the half-curved dome clouds shroud half the station hall in the shadows.

A slender figure stepped out of the shadow and looked at the phone in his hand, his face was as disappointed and lonely as mine.

The sunset gradually kept coming down for another minute but it just happened to pass through the windows around the station, covering the entire lobby with a layer of gold.

I looked at the young man illuminated by the golden light and couldn’t help but shout.

MC: Kiro!!!

He raised his head with a surprised expression.

Kiro: MC?

I waved at him frantically and ran in his direction.

He regained his senses after a brief moment of disbelief and then opened his arms wide like everytime he hugs me.

The moment his breath came to my face, my heart was filled with contentment.

Kiro put a hand around my waist tightly, lowered his head, and rubbed my forehead.

Kiro: Why are you here?

MC: I remembered that I borrowed something from you today, so I ran to pay you back.

Kiro: What’s that?

I tightened my arms around his neck.

MC: Isn’t this for you?

His breathing seemed to be slightly stagnant. He slid his hand on my waist to my hair.

Kiro: Then I’ll gladly take it.

MC: I….

He bowed his head slightly, and put the words that I was eager to confide in between his lips.

.

.

.

Trains in foreign towns are always prone to delays. Thanks to this, Kiro has been at the station until now so we now have the opportunity to be alone outside of our schedules.

As soon as the setting sun fell, the stars scrambled to fill the sky.

We were dressed in starlight, sitting side-by-side on the benches outside of the station, waiting for the late train. 

Kiro: How was the last scenic shoot? Did it go well? 

MC: OK! But when I was eating a snack, I poured all the ingredients inside by accident.

MC: But in fact, you’re just supposed to pick a flavour and eat it as a dip. The director laughed and shouted “CUT”....

Kiro: Pff….hahahahaha! Fortunately, I wasn’t there or I would’ve been laughing even louder!

MC: And there was….

I counted all the interesting things about today’s shooting, and laughed happily with Kiro.

Kiro: I’m glad I was able to come to the shoot today. Otherwise, I would have missed so many interesting things about MC.

MC: Kiro, do you feel that our current conversations seem to have the roles reversed?

MC: I used to visit you at your shoots, and you talked with me about all the interesting things that happened during them.

MC: Today, we “swapped” identities, and I feel a little delicate.

Kiro: Can I interview the delicate mood of Miss Chips?

He held his hand out to me as if he were holding a microphone and placed it in front of my mouth.

MC: Well, when I was shooting before, I could always feel your gaze. I felt it a lot today.

MC: It turned out to be difficult to stop myself from gazing back.

MC: Obviously, I saw you all day, but I had to hold back from looking at you.

MC: Obviously, you are by my side, but I have to resist the urge to hug you….

My cheeks were slightly hot and I avoided Kiro’s gaze. I lifted my head to look at the stars in the sky when I heard a “click”.

I turned my head and found that Kiro was taking pictures of me with his phone, the power bank that I had given him was still hanging from it.

MC: !

I took a look at the phone in his hand and saw the picture.

MC: It’s ugly! Delete it quickly!

Kiro: How is it ugly? The most natural MC is obviously the most lovely MC!

MC: I’m not letting you keep the power bank to charge your phone as revenge. Delete it quickly!

I struggled to snatch the phone from him, only to find that all the pictures he had taken today were of me.

I randomly clicked on a picture Kiro had taken of me eating a grilled sausage with an exaggerated expression, with me nervously facing the table in the background.

MC: You little….!

I glared at him angrily then clicked on other photos.

I frowned and watched the replay. I was stubbornly asking for another shot and I looked at him in the distance.

Kiro: Miss Chips….

He prolonged the ending, slowly coming closer to me.

Kiro: Don’t delete them. They’re all my precious memories of you. I want to keep them.

MC: No wonder your phone is out of power. You took too many photos!

He heard the relaxation in my tone and happily took the phone from me.

Kiro: Is this really too much? Compared to all of the photos of me on your phone, this is nothing out of the ordinary.

I blushed and tried to retort.

MC: Well, that’s because you are Kiro!

Kiro: But to me, you are MC.

He said this in a sincere tone.

Kiro: Just like you said, I also felt MC’s unusual mood today.

Kiro: I was worried whether you would be thirsty after talking for so long. And worried that you’d be tired after shooting for so long.

Kiro: You did well. I'm proud of you.

Kiro: The most important is….

He slowly came closer to me. I was the only thing in the reflection of his eyes.

Kiro: Although the scenery of this small town is beautiful, your shooting content is also very rich.

Kiro: But just like this moment….

Kiro: Under the starry sky, I can only see you.

Kiro: You are the unique star in my world. 

[END]

[halinski]

Day 5 of @sterekweek-2020 and @acesterek week! Loved this one bc I've always been DYING to include Shakespeare in my fic(let)s!! Haha

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"Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs," Stiles says, seeing as he steps up to the LGBTQ Club's club room just in time to catch Derek's sigh. Let it be recorded that he's a dramatic bitch. In his defense, this is Derek fucking Hale standing in front of his clubhouse, seeming deliberating if he should enter. Hopefully.

Hope is a dangerous thing but oh, how Stiles loves the thrill.

Derek only seems to stiffen when he turns to look at Stiles, all doe-eyed.

"I- uh… what?" The older boy stammers and Stiles feels the heat rise to his cheeks. Sometimes he forgets not everyone is a drama and history geek. And even if they are, people don't usually go about spouting Shakespeare quotes. Stiles' friends are used to it but Derek is, regrettably, a jock. Then again, jocks have their own profitable sides.

Stiles shakes it all off with a wave of his hand.

"Nevermind me! This is just a thing I do. Classic Stiles. That's me. Stiles," he blurts out and thrusts his hand towards Derek, which he instantly regrets because since when do jocks shake hands?

He marches on, turning to the door and stepping through. Stiles lifts his arms.

"Welcome to my kingdom! Well, it's not my kingdom, unfortunately. I wish I could be king, even if it were just over a room for a limited amount of time but what I mean to say, this is the LGBTQ+ Club Tuesdays and Thursdays at 4:15 till we get kicked out and I am the president of the club, so here we are." He's halfway into the room when he notices Derek has only taken two steps in and then stopped.

"Unless you're not here for that, which is totally cool too," he quickly adds. It's a lie, but hey, he doesn't want to scare the boy off.

"No." Derek says, cautiously taking another step forward but still looking wildly out of place and uncomfortable. "I mean, yes, I am here for that… not something else."

Poor guy almost looks like he's about to faint and Stiles wishes he could do something to make him feel more at ease.

"I'm uh, Derek Hale," he says and Stiles almost lets out a snort.

"Yeah, I know… you are the school's superstar after all, everyone kinda knows your name. Must be super weird, huh? But dude, seriously, everyone here is super chill so don't worry about it. No one's going to call you out or force you to do anything." Stiles smiles as he dumps his backpack on the desk next to the couch and starts pulling out some of his newest gatherings, new stickers mostly, and the usual pins and flags.

"Feel free to look around and basically do whatever you want, if you want. I'm always here early but not many other people are, so you've got about another 10-ish to 20 minutes before people start filing in if you just want the space to yourself," Stiles continues. He chances a glance over at Derek and notices him still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. Leaning back on the desk, Stiles braces his arms behind him.

"Sorry, I know I talk a lot. Everyone complains about it. But on the plus side, I can answer any and all questions you might have. Nothing is off limits, I promise you, so I'm here at your disposal."

Derek's eyes bore into his and suddenly Stiles questions every single decision he has made in his life ever. A sharp pain in his lips draws his attention to his nervous lip biting. Embarrassing.

"Do you know all of Shakespeare's stuff by heart?" Derek then asks, slowly sauntering closer.

Stiles opens his mouth but his brain is slow to process the quite personal question which has nothing to do with queerness whatsoever. Or well..

"Okay, fair. Shakespeare's pretty gay. Very gay actually, even though they won't teach you that in class, no siree. But anyway, no, I don't know everything. I'd need like a superbrain for that. Wish I could though, that'd be pretty awesome."

"Shakespeare's gay?" Derek asks and if Stiles isn't mistaken there's a smile slowly showing on his face, next to the perpetual look of astonishment.

"Oh, yeah, dude. Like, super gay. You must have heard by now that there's so many dick jokes in his texts. Like, in the plays, oh man. I have most of those memorized, by the way. And I can assure you that those dick references are not all just about pleasuring the ladies," Stiles replies. He's kind of tripping over here. Hello, he's talking to Derek Hale about dick jokes, and yeah, his hopes are way across and over the rainbow by now.

"Maybe that's why I try so hard to rise to his image, I wanna be the best bi can be." He can't help it. It's always a relieving rush to advertise his queerness. Thankfully, Derek's looking more and more relaxed and not like he's going to flee any second.

"That's the middle pin there, right?" Derek gestures to Stiles' backpack, which proudly sports multiple flags and queer quotes and images. One of the biggest one of course, is the big flag.

He beams back at Derek. "Yup, that's the one. That's me."

It's hard to resist asking the beautiful raven-haired boy if he has any interest in the same sex, too, but Stiles manages to keep his mouth shut. This is going too well for him to wreck. He wants Derek to come back, after all.

The butterflies do run rampant all throughout him, from his toes and all the way up to his fingertips and nose, when Derek directs that crooked smile of his at him.

"What about the other big one next to it?" Derek continues, glancing back to the backpack.

This is where Stiles hesitates just for a second but calms his panicking heart with iron-willed resolve.

"That's the ace flag. Asexual pride, that is." He feels ready to vibrate out of his skin, waiting for Derek's reaction. He's never been this scared of a rejection or attack, but then again, he hasn't crushed on someone this hard since Lydia in 3rd grade which basically just ended up being admiration and wonderful friendship.

"I think I read about that," Derek says thoughtfully, eyes still glued to the backpack.

Might they have that in common? Stiles' heart beats so loud he's sure Derek can hear it.

"So, maybe not as big of a fan of dick jokes as Shakespeare?" Derek then says casually, in that uber cool way of his, backpack hanging over one shoulder and hands in his pockets. It's the last thing Stiles expects, and he blinks- before bursting out with a laugh.

"Okay fine, you got me there," Stiles says with a remaining chuckle.

Derek grins at him.

Stiles totally does not melt. He doesn't. Nope. No sir.

"You're robbing me of my dreams here, Hale," Stiles quips. "What, are you coming for my position as president here next?"

"Well… you are only a freshman, right? Which is both kind of curious and terrifying…"

"Oh, I will fight you for the position. You can take my word for it," Stiles warns.

This is the end of the world, folks. You heard it here first. Stiles is bantering with Derek Hale. Reality is about to shift and collapse…

"I guess for now I'll just- I think I'll stay for today's meeting," Derek says, with a slight nervous shift in his posture, but an oh so adorable smile.

"Awesome, dude," is the best thing Stiles can say without making a total and utter fool of himself.

Reality might just be exploding and expanding I to a whole new world.

[princessamericachavez]

I wanna write a long multi chapter fic about Jack and Shitty becoming friends but also I don’t have the mental bandwidth right now so instead I’m just gonna blurt out a long bulletpoint fic so bare with me

Okay so Shitty B. Knight arrives to Samwell hungry for life and friends and finally some fucking air to breathe and be himself away from his conservative family

And it is fucking great, okay? From the get go he finds that his loud left wing talk is welcomed here, he gets to joke around and be as weird as he wants and no one cares

He hits it off pretty quickly with nearly everyone in the team. Sure, Johnson is a little weird and keeps talking about this merely being the “prologue of someone else’s story” but what he’s really curious about is the quiet Canadian guy that barely talks to anyone

Now, Shitty knows about Jack Zimmermann. Obviously. You have to grow up under a rock to not know about Bad Bob and his kid.

He also knows what happened. It must be a sore subject.

Is that why he’s so quiet?

It’s not that Shitty makes Jack a project. Not really. It’s that Shitty has been in a place where he felt lonely and out of place before and it sucked ass. He wants to help.

So he tries. Constantly.

Because Shitty sees the spark hiding behind the ice cold facade. He sees the way Jack’s face lights up in the rink, how loud and youthfully he celebrates cellys, how protective of others he is in the ice.

That’s a guy he WANTS to be friends with.

Except he can’t. After every training, Jack shuts back up

“Hey, Jaques, wanna go grab a bite?” “Thanks but I should sleep. We got an early day tomorrow.”

“My man, Zimmermann, lets go to that fucking party across campus!” “I’d rather not.”

“Hey, let’s celebrate this fucking win!” “I was actually gonna watch the game tonight. There was a play there that keeps bothering me.”

Anything that isn’t hockey is an instant No from Jack but Shitty is too stubborn to give up.

“Hey, Jack, I was going to train a bit extra on Sunday. Care to join me? You could teach me some of those sick moves.” “Sure.”

VICTORY. Sort of. Working out extra with Jack is exhausting, physically and mentally because Shitty keeps trying to come up with jokes and keeping up 90% of the conversation.

It takes nearly a month until Jack agrees to grab a bite after their Sunday skate and Shitty is so fucking beat that he nearly falls asleep on his burger.

“Hey, Shits, nice ketchup mustache,” Jack chirps him suddenly. And it’s the smallest, dumbest possible thing but Shitty laughs a little too loud and Jacks shoulders seem to lose a bit of that perpetual tension he’s always carrying.

It gets better after that. Slowly, painstakingly, but Shitty finds himself enjoying Jack’s company more and more.

He’s a genuinely good bro. He listens, even when he’s just grunting along time Shitty’s monologues, and he asks questions that shows that he actually cares, every now and then. It’s odd, being taken seriously.

By the end of their first semester, Jack and Shitty are spending a lot of time together. Which is why he asks him to come to the art kids party where Larissa is going to be.

Who? “Brah, Larissa Duan? Just the coolest fucking chick ever! I told you about her the other day, man. She said we should come over to this thing and I would go, but I know shit about art and I would rather not go along and bring my best fucking bro with me.”

After the word vomit he worries that maybe he pushed too far, judging by the way Jack freezes and stares at him like a deer on headlights. But then Jack sighs and says “fine, I’ll go,” and Shitty whoops with excitement

The party goes better than Shitty could’ve ever dreamed. Larissa’s super chill energy seems to have an effect on Jack, who half an hour in is talking about photography with some other art kids and he even agrees to come grab a beer with him and Larissa afterwards.

Until, of-fucking-course, Jack goes into hockey-mode and asks Larissa if she would like to be their team manager. They need one and she seems good at organizing stuff.

“Brah!” “I think it would be cool” “wait, what” “I’ve been looking to do more stuff and you guys are dope. Would I get my own nickname?”

And Jack looks her with that seriousness that means he’s thinking about hockey and firmly says “Lardo” and she says “sweet” and Shitty corrects “swasome” and things are good.

Thing don’t stay good, because as chill as Shitty tries to be, life rarely stays chill.

After winter break, in the smothering tightness of his folks’ home, Shitty finds himself craving that weird and easy friendship with Jack.

Why he finds is a Hockey Robot. All Jack seems to do and talk about is how to get the team to the play-offs. He trains longer than anyone (more than Shitty can keep up with), and when he isn’t on the ice, he is thinking about hockey or talking about plays or or about eating more protein.

Shitty is angry. Not that he would tell anyone (except Lardo) because it’s really not his place (he knows about shorty family dynamics, no pun intended) but he’s mad because Jack’s folks seem to have done quite a fucking number on him over the break and it kills him to even think about it.

And then family weekend comes and Bad Bob himself shows up to Samwell with his beautiful wife and Shitty has to swallow down his anger because Jack wants them to go have diner together and it’s the first human interaction he’s had with Jack in a month so sure he’ll go.

Shitty is good at being nice and polite around people he dislikes. He hates doing it, but it’s like muscle he had to work on growing up.

Except, Bob and Alicia are nice. Like, fucking nice. Even for Canadian standards. They are sweet and funny and normal and keep reassuring Jack about their love and support every third sentence.

And still, Jack has that grim “thinking about the next game” look on his face the whole time.

Shitty is confused as fuck.

The game goes well and Jack is the happiest Shitty has ever seen him as he celebrates his goal in the ice. He even hugs Shitty and thanks him for his assist.

Three games later they are out of the playoffs and Jack shuts down everything and everyone around him.

Shitty tries. He knocks on his door at least twice a day to see if he wants to go over to the Haus to hang out with the team. He offers going out for burgers or a beer or both. He even enlists Lardo, hoping the team manager will be able to snap him out of it.

Jack leaves early for a Hockey Summer camp and doesn’t say goodbye but Shitty hears from Johnson that he also got dibs on a room at the Haus.

Jack actually texts Shitty during the summer. It shocks him so much that he has to double check his phone before replying.

The texts are just to comment on the NHL playoffs and finals, sporadic and robotic at times, but Shitty does his best to drag the conversations for as long as possible. Once the season is over, so are the texts.

Shitty assumes Jack must be pretty happy though since his old bro won the cup.

When fall comes, Shitty stumbles again into Jack’s hockey-robot mode. His intensity is nearly terrifying. He barely speaks out of practice, only leaves his room to go to lecture or the rink. Looks like he hasn’t been sleeping at all.

Shitty is worried. He’s hurt, too, because he misses the friendly Jack that had slowly started coming out of his shell, and he wonders if it’s going to be like this, back to square-one after every break, but most of all he’s worried about Jack.

Lardo tells him to give him space. She says she sometimes gets “on the zone” for an art project and can forget about the rest of the world. Shitty likes thinking of Jack as an artist, but he hates seeing him this unhappy. None of the old tricks work to cheer him up.

Then comes the first Kegster of the year. Two frogs, Hostler and Ransom, take over planing duties and the party is the biggest the Haus has ever seen.

It’s freaking dope.

And then, fucking Kent Parson fucking shows up asking about Jack.

Lardo and Shitty nearly have to drag him out of his room to greet his old best friend.

Jack is cold towards Pars, in a way Shitty has never seen before. He’s downright rude and mean in every comment, no matter how much Kent tries to joke around, and five minutes later Jack turns around and leaves him talking to himself.

He’s jealous, Shitty realizes, and he’s being petty and awful and he doesn’t know this Jack Zimmermann at all.

Shitty runs after Jack upstairs, maybe a little emboldened by the alcohol.

“Hey, brah, what the fuck was that?”

“Stay out of it, Shits.”

“Nah, man, that was weird as fuck.”

“Seriously, you don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Then tell me, man, I’m your fucking friend! Just talk to me!”

Jack slams his bedroom door on his face and Shitty deflates. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe they are not friends after all.

The rest of the semester is tense. Shitty tries to focus on his classes, on the ice, on how fucking cool and pretty and funny Lardo is, on the parties and the rest of the team.

It just bothers him. He misses Jack. He’s still there but he’s been absent any time they aren’t in the rink. He’s still great and focused and nearly friendly in the ice, but anything else is like the fucking twilight zone.

It’s before a game that he finds Jack sitting outside Faber, curled into a ball and physically shaking.

Shitty thinks of the headlines about Jack OD’ing, thinks of his tension around his loving parents and his reaction to Kent Parson showing up. Anxiety. The word takes form in his head, clear and obvious and the relief of having an answer hits him so hard he wants to laugh.

Instead, he sits next to Jack, who stirs when he feels him by his side but actually seems to relax when he realizes it’s Shitty who found him like this. Jack lets out a breathy “I’m fine” and Shitty says “sure, brah, but I’m fucking nervous about tonight, mind if I sit here for a while?” And Jack shakes his head. So they sit, in uncharacteristic silence, until Jack’s breathing normalizes.

“Thanks, Shits. Could you not-“ “Don’t worry man, I ain’t saying fucking shit to anyone.” And Jack smiles for the first time in months.

By the end of the semester comes the Epikegster to end all the kegsters. Which means, of course, Shitty gets shitfaced.

Which is why he ends up stumbling drunkenly to his room in the middle of the night to grab another pair of sunglasses because who knows where the fuck his other two pairs went

And it’s why he doesn’t know how to react when he finds two linebackers throwing up on his bedroom floor

“Brah, what the fuck, get outta here!” He yells, trying to grab one of the guys and pull him out to the hallway.

Except, the guy is huge. And he is angry.

Shitty doesn’t know what hit him when someone throws him to the floor.

His brain thinks he’s been checked for a second but then he remembers he’s not in the ice.

The other guys, however, apparently don’t remember they aren’t on the field because the second dude tries to tackle Shitty just as he’s getting up and he barely has time to dodge before one gigant ducking foot goes through the bedroom wall

“Hey, man, what the fucking fuck?!”

Shitty tries to steady himself, increasingly accepting that he’s about to get into a fight he didn’t ask for. He has time to think it’s ironic that his first real fight in Samwell will be off-the-ice.

And then the bedroom door opens and in comes Jack Laurent Zimmermann in all of his gorgeous badass glory.

“Let’s all calm down, eh?”

Here’s the thing: it’s easy to forget how strong Jack is. Shitty is used to hanging out with Hockey Bros and it’s easy to forget that not everyone’s bro’s are big muscley athletes defying toxic masculinity standards one day at a time. But Jack, even when he doesn’t look that big, is one of the strongest people he’s met.

He remembers all this when Zimmermann grabs the two by their shirts and drags them out of the room and all the way downstairs.

Shitty stumbles after them, as Jack pulls them like they aren’t both huge masses of muscle and throws them out to the street.

By the time Shitty reaches the porch, a bunch of big as fuck guys are standing there, looking drunk and angry and ready for a fight.

So Shitty does the one thing that makes sense to him: he squares up next to Jack, ready to fight back to back with him.

Before they can get run over by fists, however, Jack reaches for the only emergency measure in the house: an old as balls fire extinguisher.

Two minutes later, the football bro’s are running away and Shitty is laughing so hard he collapses on the floor next to Jack.

Jack kneels next to him, with his serious hockey face on, puts a hand on Shitty’s shoulder and asks “you alright, Shits?”

Shitty nods, still laughing, and to his surprise Jack laughs too, sitting by his side on the floor. They sit there, chuckling, until the sound dies down and they both sigh at nearly the same time.

Whatever tension there was between them seems to have desipated with that clouth of dust of the fire extinguisher.

“Thanks for having my back, bro”

“Hey, you always have mine,” Jack shrugs. “What are best friends for?”

Shitty cries. Jack freaks out that he might have said the wrong thing. Shitty just hugs him and shouts about being the best bros.

That winter break Jack invites Shitty over to his house and Shitty accepts eagerly.

Bob and Alicia are sweet and happy to have him and keep saying how much Jack talks about Shitty and how thankful they are that Jack’s found so many good friends in Samwell and they’ve heard about Lardo and Hostler and Ransom and Johnson and Shitty most of all.

This time he manages not to cry.

At the end of the break, Jack and him are hanging out and Jack says “Hey, Shits, I’m not good at this but I wanted to say thanks, for not giving up on me when I was acting kinda weird.”

And Shitty just laughs and says “it’s alright man, I figured you have like hockey robot mode and then human mode.”

Jack makes a face. Shitty shrugs.

“I’ll take them both, brah.”

Jack doesn’t cry, because he’s Jack and even his human mode struggles with emotions, but he smiles and throws a snowball at Shitty’s face and that’s all he wanted really.

[honeymoonjin]

TGM Bonus Content #11

HELLO folks this was a long time coming but here is the week 2 elimination from Tae’s perspective ;;;-; also i know BC are usually irrelevant to the main story but this one has some pretty important info so i suggest you read,,,,, it’s only 1.8k 

---

Everything feels way too official.

It makes Taehyung’s throat dry. It was a little easier to say fuck the competition earlier with Y/n. Now, after being properly voted out and Sejin directing him to the confessional shed, things were different.

It isn’t that he regrets his decision either; it’s just a little scary leaving everyone else behind. The loneliness feels almost tangible, like a film of sweat on his palms that he can’t wipe off.

He stands outside in silence for what feels like a icy eternity. He knows what he has to do, and yet he waits at the door of the confessional instead of going inside.

Eventually, Sejin returns. He’s quiet for a moment, clearly trying to give the recently eliminated contestant space, but that’s exactly what Taehyung’s stomach turns over. His heart skips a beat when the producer gestures towards the shed, and Taehyung forces himself to speak up.

“What changes now?” Taehyung asks, voice croaky. “I can’t have sex with Y/n, I know, but what else?” He eyes the door of the shed warily. “Is this the last time I’ll use this?”

Sejin shrugs. “The confessional booth has never been an enforced requirement, it’s just preferred for the players in the show. You don’t have to come here anymore.”

“No, that’s not-” Taehyung forces himself not to feel too nervous, aware that his anxieties are making this bigger than it needs to be. “...I like kinda talking to the fans, that’s all. I wanna come back.”

“Then you’re welcome to,” the producer responds easily, before his face softens. Reaching out to place a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, Sejin gives it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re no less important on the show, and certainly no less valued amongst Y/n and the others just because you’re eliminated, okay?”

Taehyung narrows his eyes, even as the warm touch soothes him. “But you were going to send us home once we get voted out.”

Sejin breathes out slowly, lips moving silently like he’s deciding whether to speak or not. His eyes lift towards the cameras attached to the exterior wall of the house, before using the grip on Taehyung’s shoulder to step inside the shed. Kang and Shin are nowhere to be seen, and the small room is cool and quiet. “A lot of things are changing on the show,” Sejin answers carefully after he slides the door shut again, flicking the light on. “Partly because of the viewers’ response; partly because of all of you.”

“Us?” Almost like instinct, Taehyung finds himself going to sit on the stool. Sejin’s ruggedly handsome face is a little pinched as he double-checks the confessional camera is turned off, and it makes the boy worry.

“I’m telling you this because I trust you with the information, but do not forget you’re under a legal non-disclosure,” Sejin warns. After receiving a bewildered nod, he continues. “All of this was a gimmick,” he explains wearily. “The higher-ups told us our viewership was tanking due to bigger competitors and that we needed something to capture the attention of younger demographics, the 18-30 bracket, and I know from my girlfriend how addictive those reality shows on television can be. All of this - the big house, the pool, the prompts - it was all just a marketing gimmick.”

Taehyung doesn’t know how to respond. Sitting there with his mouth open like a fish seems sufficient, as Sejin continues.

“My boss just wanted all the pretty visuals and clickbait to get people’s attention. He couldn’t care less about the show or the people on it as long as the viewership increased. I don’t believe I ever told you this, but I’m from the HR department. I’m not even meant to be working directly with shoots, but the original proposal was so shocking that I applied to take it over. I tried to budget in for things like proper food and personal items, adjusted the application form to try and get genuine and safe people.” Sejin sighs out, arms crossed tightly in discomfort at the honesty. “My boss wasn’t happy about cutting corners in other areas like expensive sex toys and cameramen, but once the views started skyrocketing and the fanbase on social media began to grow, he became a little more comfortable with the idea.”

Taehyung closes his mouth with a small frown. “And now he’s happy with it?”

The producer laughs without humour. “He doesn’t get it,” Sejin admits, “can you believe that the views peak when the eight of you are together? Every breakfast, lunch, dinner, or meeting, they shoot up. Sometimes more than the actual sex, the viewers want to see you. So that’s why it’s not important that you’ve been eliminated. We made the decision to keep everyone around because I don’t think it’s wise that we separate you. And my boss wants fatter pockets, so he can’t afford risking the view drop if the house gets emptier and emptier. Do you understand?”

The masseuse nods mechanically. “Yeah, I think so.”

The uncertainty isn’t enough for Sejin, who purses his lips, brows knitted together. “Taehyung, I’m telling you this because I want you to prioritise your enjoyment here. I can see you are becoming close with some of the people in this house, and I want to encourage that. Not because of the views, but because I know they’re all good people that care about you, and you deserve to get something out of this experience. The CEO and main council of Bangasm would wring you all dry if they could, so don’t feel guilty about taking full advantage of whatever they’re giving you, whether it’s food or WiFi or, I don’t know, the pool. And please don’t forget that I’m on your side.”

Sejin clearly isn’t expecting the hug, because when Taehyung launches off the stool and wraps his arms tightly around the larger man, he stumbles back a few steps. After a moment, though, he brings his arms up to return the embrace, and Taehyung tightens his grip and savours it for a moment longer before letting go.

“I knew you were a good egg,” Taehyung announces proudly, setting himself back on the stool. “Let’s do this exit interview!”

As he sets up the camera and pulls out his phone to find the questions, the producer tries to hide his fond smile. He doesn’t do a very good job, but Taehyung chooses not to point it out.

“Okay, Week Two exit interview, Kim Taehyung,” Sejin announces in the smooth tone he always uses for anything official. Taehyung prefers his regular voice, but decides not to mention that either. “First of all, how do you feel now?”

Taehyung hums. “Should I pretend to be sad for views? I can fake cry if you want.”

Sejin sends him a warning glare, but that smile hasn’t left. “Honesty is preferred.”

“Okay,” the younger boy allows, deflating a little. “I feel okay. I was sad before, but I want to turn this into something positive, like an opportunity instead of a loss, you know?”

“And were you surprised about Y/n’s choice?”

“A little.” Taehyung pouts at Sejin’s raised brows. “I’m not lying this time! I know that I told Y/n to vote for me and we decided it, but I guess I kinda thought maybe she’d change her mind and save me. But now that it’s done, I’m really glad it’s not the others. I don’t want to see them upset.”

Sejin’s head drops, almost seeming touched by Tae’s response, though he busies himself with reading off his phone. “Is there anything you would have done differently if you could start the competition again?”

Taehyung bites his lip, thinking hard. After a few moments, a frown has graced his features. “I think I would’ve been a bit more selfish if I knew I was only going to get two weeks when everyone else got more. I just kinda wanna go back in there and kiss Y/n, but I can’t. That part definitely sucks.”

“What are you going to do now that you’ve been eliminated?”

At this question, Taehyung brightens back up again. “I want to spend time doing the things I love. Watching anime, gaming, I wanna train Mango so that maybe she can become an inside dog. And I want to get closer with the others now that I don’t have to worry about competing against them.” If Taehyung is honest with himself - which he does prefer to be - he’ll admit that he never felt like he was competing against anyone.

“Finally, since your elimination, the fans have been tweeting their reactions real-time, and the #WeLoveYouTaehyung hashtag has actually entered the trending tweets for South Korea. Is there anything you want to say to the viewers of the show, to those that support you?”

It’s hard not to tear up at the thought of people at home, cheering him on and supporting him. He blinks hard, nose twitching. “I’m sorry I couldn’t win for you. But I hope you continue to support me, and I’m going to try and chat with you all on Twitter more now. Thank you for the love.”

Sejin smiles sadly, reaching up to switch off the camera. “That’s all, buddy,” he says in a small voice, “you did well.”

Taehyung waits for the disappointment or the cold realisation to creep up inside him at those words - that’s all. But they never do. Yes, maybe Taehyung is done with the competition. Maybe he wouldn’t win the mysterious unknown prize, and maybe he’d have to restrain himself from kissing or touching Y/n like he wanted to. But there was a kind of liberation in not having to worry about that stuff anymore and just focus on enjoying himself.

An idea lights up Taehyung’s head suddenly, making a grin stretch across his lips. “Thank you, PD,” he says with a small bow, “I’ll go head upstairs now.”

Sejin reminds him that he’s in the bunks from tonight onwards for the week, but even that doesn’t damper his excited anticipation. He dashes inside, catching sight of the guys and Y/n in the kitchen, clearly preparing a meal of sorts.

Everyone’s staring at him, probably waiting to see if he’s going to put on a smile or burst into tears. Taehyung chooses the former. “I’m going upstairs to have a shower,” he says, “don’t wait up. I’ll come back down when I’m done.”

Y/n bites her lip, guilt stricken on her face, but before she can pull him into a conversation, Taehyung hurries back out and up the stairs.

For the first time in almost the whole two weeks, Taehyung locks his bedroom door.

It takes barely any time to open his computer and load the site he wants. Down the sides of the page, sponsored ads mingle with genuine ones, but the top banner is exactly what he’s after.

He clicks through, enters his credit card details, and grins when the confirmation comes up, displaying the purchase information and a link.

Thank you for your purchase! The order was successful.

Click here to go to the Bangasm TGM livestream site.

[redjennies]

Thats a real good point about matt not setting them up for failure, I forget sometimes that would just be too risky of a tpk which would suck for them all - ur right they could probably take the TT in some creative/roundabout way (like the laughing hand)

But yeah it all leads to tharizdun.. I think the assembly folks might be so obsessed with it because of that hubris ljke you said, maybe some idea of disconnect between aeor and thazzy (like the angel of jrons, they don't realise they're working towards that?).

I REALLY like your theory it might be connected in some way to dunamancy/the luxon etc!! Maybe like the divine gate IS the luxon?? And so breaking it makes dunamancy/the beacons crazy powerful or s/t??

Woah wait

What if the thing that brought the assembly together after the mage fighting wasn't what they said - what if they all agreed that they should work towards the same end that benefits magic itself, aeor? I've seen theories that ludinus was FROM aeor and escaped before it fell, what if he has been working towards this status of nonagon for centuries, and brought the assembly together with that goal? Each ofc thinking that when the time comes THEY will be the one to benefit, but in the meantime it benefits them all to play nice and see what they can do. Maybe they believe aeor is powerful enough to stand up to ALL the gods (maybe choosing to not see how close jt is to thazzy?), and that shattering the divine gate would be worth it? Or they think they can get jt back keeping the gate intact??

Idk but honestly this campaign excites me in a conceptual and character way that c1 never managed to and I love it

(Sorry ive just been sending these long-ass asks rambling about my theories, I just love ur vibes and opinions and talking about meta or theory aha)

it's totally okay. I like bouncing my ideas off other people too, and while a lot of what you're throwing at me ranges from "HARD AGREE" to "part of me thinks that doesn't sound right but I don't pay enough attention to when wizards are talking to dispute it," these are earnest thoughts made with a genuine excitement for what's going on and I'm not going to discourage that.

two disclaimers tho. one: I don't have like a ton of brain power until after my mid day naps so I apologize if any of this feels like half-assed. other disclaimer: I have zero understanding of dunamancy and the Luxon. all of that to the best of my knowledge is Matt Mercer original and while I can kind of follow other lore because it's based on D&D stuff I'm familiar with, this dunamancy and Luxon stuff is so foreign but fascinating to me so I am just extremely speculating on any possible connection it might have to anything. like idk I feel like their interest in studying the beacons could be purely academic but I want it to be connected to something more because that's more fun to me.

but yeah I'm super sus of Ludinus. he's up to something and I'm convinced it's some "bring back the Age of Arcanum" wizard fuckery which I'm just straight up not big brain enough to have any actual insight into because I don't get wizards, but there's enough "shit keeps leading back to you, buddy" to make me view him as having some nefarious intent but I also view him as intelligent enough that with how reckless fucking with Tharizdun would be that he also has to have some long-term plan going to ensure that whatever wizard bullshit he's trying to accomplish goes in his favor and that makes me way more nervous. like it might be "high risk, high reward" but this guy can't have survived falls of civilizations just to throw it away without a metric shit ton of contingency plans and I don't like not knowing what those intentions and plans are. idk I feel very out of my depth during this arc but I am very interested in what's happening. it's just not really how my brain works. I'm sure once everything starts coming more together, I'll go back and watch episodes and be like "oh shit this is what Matt was getting at" but idk right now, I'm just like "fuck if I know what goes on in wizard heads, but I don't trust 'em."

[diddlesanddoodles]

DUMPLING ch 42

The dress was a buttercup yellow with white rimmed sleeves that dragged on the floor. Nenani stood very still as Lolly carefully pinned the dress in several places to get the fit just right. Her mother stood to the side, watching with an odd mixture of emotions.

“You look beautiful, Nenani,” she said. But there was something in her eyes that made her look sad.

“The sleeves are so long,” Nenani said, tilting her head to look at Lolly and flapping her arms. “I look like a bird...”

“It’s the fashion right now,” Lolly said with a suppressed grin. “All the ladies at court are wearing them long. You will be turning heads when they see you.”

“Why do I need to be turning heads?” Nenani asked, feeling nervous. After her talk with Jae and Farris about the upcoming dinner, she was beginning to have serious reservations about the whole ordeal.

“Because you’re going to a dance,” her mother told her straight faced. “And it’s better to go wearing the proper shoes.”

Giving her mother a befuddled tilt of the head, Nenani asked, “Huh?”

“This dinner will be our first introduction to the Vhasshalan court in an official capacity,” Oira told her. “It would be better to make a good impression. And clothes are the first thing they will see. Well, aside from us being human that is. People at court have a certain capacity to be shallow and cruel. It was true in Silvaara and it’s true here in Vhasshal. We have to present to them a carefully painted picture so we can’t give them anything that might come back to haunt us later.”

Nenani looked up at Lolly with an anxious look. “I don’t think I want to go...”

“Don’t fret, Nenani,” Lolly told her gently. “All you need to do is stand there and look pretty. His majesty and your mother with handle everything else.”

As Lolly finished the fitting, Nenani could not strike the feeling from her mind that she was not going to enjoy any of it.

…………………………………………………..

It was a little awkward carrying her dagger and the roll of leather, but even as Jae asked for the fifth time if she needed help carrying anything, she assured him she was fine. But as they rounded the edge of the guard barracks and made their way to the smithy, Nenani turned to stared at Jae as he walked beside her, noting the bottle in his hand. When he looked over and saw her staring, his brow furrowed. “What?”

“I thought you were going to get rid of that,” she said, pointing to bottle of whiskey.

“I am,” Jae replied with a dismissive shrug. “I’m givin’ it to Connar. To try and bribe him into making your belt for you. Not that I think he would refuse you. But a little bribery never hurt. Plus, it’s easier to give this away then just dump it.”

“I don’t understand how you could drink that stuff,” Nenani scrunched her nose up and adjusted the roll of leather under her one arm. “It smells terrible.”

“Wasn’t drinking it for the flavor,” Jae assured her. “But a lot of folks swear it’s the best tasting whiskey you can get. Keral’s famous for it.”

“Still smells bad.”

“Funnily enough,” Jae shot back with a smarmy grin. “So does Keral.”

In all her time living in Vhasshal, Nenani had met all the resident humans save for one; Connar. He was a metal and leather worker in the King’s smithy alongside his guardian, Hev. Another name Nenani was familiar with, but had no face to match it with. The metal medallion around her neck, Jae’s neck, and all other humans in the castle were all made by Connar. Ostensibly due their smaller size, the job was much more suited to human hands than a giant’s.  

And as they drew nearer to their destination, the steady beat of metal striking metal became more pronounced and there was a metallic bite to the air itself as though she could smell the forge in the smithy just as she could smell the ovens in the kitchens. But instead of crusty loaves of yeasted breads, the only thing being pulled from the mouth of Hev’s fiery forge were the glowing bars of heated metal.

The smithy was a wide squat structure more reminiscent of a barn than a proper workshop. There was no door, rather the whole front of the building was left open. Tables were strewn with tools and weapons of all kinds and all in varying states of manufacture or repair. There was a barrel off to one side filled to the brim with flat metal blanks in the vague shape of a sword, only waiting to be heated and shaped into their final form and given a hilt. The walls were filled as well with swords and daggers, axes of varying sizes from a small hatchet to an enormous battle ax. And then beneath all of it, Nenani could heard the great breathing bellows of the forge and waves of heat hit her face as they approached.

They passed under the shadow of the smithy’s interior and Nenani scanned the walls as they pushed inwards. So much metal and weaponry and leather. It reminded her of the first time she was taken into the kitchens where she saw all the knives and cleavers therein, but even that paled in comparison to the sheer number of blades hanging from the walls and laying atop tables.  

“It’s pretty nice coming here in the winter,” Jae told her. “Stays nice and warm. But the summer is just brutal.”

Nenani paused to look over at a mace casually leaning against the leg of the table, marveling at the idea that anyone could pick up something so lumbering and heavy. It looked like it would be a challenge even for a giant.

Beside her, Jae slipped the bottle of whiskey under his arm and cupped his hands around his mouth. “HELLOOOOO!”

From further into the space came a response. “Hello?”

Jae turned to her and grinned before yelling back, “Hello!”

A pause and then a confused sounding, “Hello who?”

“Hello you.”

“Hello me?”

“Yeah.”

Another pause and an amused response came back. “...Jae? Is that ye?”

The young man laughed and called back, “Yeah, its me.”

There was a series of clanks and the sound of something shuffling around the dirt floor before a giant head peaked out from behind a wall near the back of the room. He had a round pleasant face and a dark, short cut beard with streaks of grey. His long black hair had been pulled into a long queue and it swung out from behind him when he poked his head out. Large brown eyes stared at them and then there was a flash of white teeth. “Well so ye are!”

The rest of the giant’s body followed his head from around the wall and he walked with long legged strides over to the pair of humans. A dark leather apron covered him from his chest down to his shins with the tawny fabric of his sleeves rolled up over thick burly arms. Despite considering herself very well accustomed to giants by this point, Nenani could not quell the sudden nervous bubble that form inside her as he bore down on them. He was more broad shouldered than either Farris or Bart and perhaps even taller. He towered over them for only a moment before he dropped down to one knee, leaning forward even more to be closer to their level. His face and arms were deeply tanned and there was a faint dusting of metal shavings stuck to his face and beard.

“Been a while since yev been down this way,” he said to Jae with an easy smile. “Was startin’ to think ye didn’t like us no more.”

“Nah, nothing like that. Things have just been kind of...hectic?”

The giant threw his head back with a loud short bark of a laugh. “So I heard. Some nutter tried to kill ye? Threw ye off the roof was it? Must be goin’ up in the world if someone found ye important enough to try and assassinate, lad. I’d congratulate ye, but it sounds like it’s more a pain in the arse than anythin’.”

“Nah, no such luck. I was just collateral,” Jae replied, gesturing with his thumb to Nenani. “He was after this one. Hev, this is Nenani.”

The giant’s thick eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Ah! So yer Farris’s lil’ squeaker? Ah, well, I suppose yer a Princess too, eh? Please excuse the state of me, yer grace. Always get a bit manky in the shop.”

“I’ll make you a deal. Don’t call me ‘princess’ or ‘your grace’ and I’ll forget everything else,” Nenani replied with a small smile.

“Oh?” Hev asked and then looked to Jae in confusion.

“She hates the titles,” he explained. “Best to just drop them.”

“Ah, well. I’ll try to do that, but forgive me if I slip once or twice. I don’t mean nothin’ by it.”

“Is Connar about?” Jae asked, holding the bottle up with a grin. “We got a commission for him.”

Hev dipped his head and huffed in amusement before lifting up again with a nod. “Oh, sure. He’s just nappin’ over near the rag pile. Cold weather makes his leg ache, so he likes to build himself a lil’ nest over there. I’ll get ‘im fer ye.”

Hev pushed himself back onto his feet and after a few quick stride of his long legs, disappeared back behind the wall. His voice could be heard clearly enough. “Connar, ye up? Come on then, wake up. Oi! Ye lazy bum. Put yer shirt back on. How can ye be complainin’ about the cold when he ye haven’t even got yer damn shirt on? Now get dressed and try to pretend yer civilized fer all of a few minutes, eh? Ye got company.”

There was a fainter groan and then a curse. “Huh? Wait...Really?”

“Yeah, Farris’s ward’s is here t’see yer sorry arse. Y’know...the Princess?”

“The...Princess? Wait. What?! Ah, shit!”

Hev gave a loud laugh.

“Where’s my shirt? Hev, where’s my shirt?”

“How should I know?”

“Well, I put it there and now it’s gone!”

“I didn’t steal yer grimy little shirt. What’d I even use it fer?”

“I dunno. Hide it for a laugh?”

“Ah, not this time.”

“Dammit...I know I had it...”

“...ye check yer pants?”

“What?”

“I said did ye check yer pants?”

“...wha…? Why would I check my pants for my shirt?”

“Because it’s tucked into yer arse, ye fuckin’ dolt.”

“What? Oh! Hey! There it is!”

There was a pause and the Hev said in a contemplative tone, “Sometimes I wonder how ye ever managed to miss seein’ that trap. And sometimes, like now, I don’t wonder quite as much.”

“...fuck you, Hev.”

“Love ye too, lad,” Hev replied cheekily and then shouted back at Nenani and Jae. “OK, yer grace. He’s decent enough. Oh, sorry. Already forgot about the title thing. I mean...yeah, yer good to come on back.”

Nenani shot Jae a look of confused amusement and he just grinned back. Rounding the wall that Hev had disappeared behind, the floor dropped two steps and opened into a large round room with a cone shaped ceiling that ended in a sharp point. Flat openings near the pitch of the roof were opened to the outside, letting smoke and heat escape. The farthest wall from the entrance was dominated by a round bricked forge that, to Nenani’s eye, looked very much like one of Quinn’s ovens, only much much larger. Around the lip of the forge were long black metal poles. Some were nestled into the glowing coals or leaning against the forge itself. Off to the left side was a large bellows, sitting on the ground and positioned perfectly for a giant to step upon it with their foot to breath air into the fire. Next to that sat a giant black anvil with on large hammer resting upon it.

To the right of the forge was an open barrel of water and just beyond that was a large pile of rags, all colored black from soot and dirt and it was there that Hev stood, looking down at a human as they adjusted their shirt and quickly tried to force their messy mop of hair into something presentable.

When Nenani and Jae hoped the last step and down onto the dirt floor, Hev looked up at them and flash a grin. “Ye might need to forgive the state of this one’s dress as well. I’d say he’s just feelin’ under the weather, but...he never really looks any better than this.”

“Shut it you.”

Nenani found herself slightly taken aback when she finally laid eyes on Connar. She had expected an older man by the way everyone spoke of him, but he was surprisingly young. Older than Jae, but perhaps more Riley’s age. Perhaps even a bit older, but only just.

Connar was a lean, dark haired young man with thin gray eyes and his face was marked with faint white lines across his tanned skin. Old scars. His hands were similarly marked, but the most prominent feature of his person was the distinct absence of his left leg. In it’s place was a carved wooden replacement. From his left knee down, his leg was gone and he stood instead with a false one peaking out from the folded fabric of his gray trousers. However, instead of a plain round peg as Nenani had seen before on some sailors, Connar’s fake leg was carved as though to mimic the real leg he had lost. It had even been oiled and polished and he wore a shoe as well to match the one on his right foot.  

He must have seen her staring at it, because when she looked up to meet his eye, he wore a knowing expression. “Lost it to a snap trap a couple years back,” he explained. “Some fucker was pouching on the King’s land while I happened to be trespassing through it and snap! No more leg.”

Her eyes widened in horror at the prospect. “That’s terrible!”

“Oh it was,” Hev agree vehemently. “Lil’ fella almost bled out in my arms.”

“But you’re not here to listen to my sob story,” Connar said, waving a hand and looking down at the roll of leather under Nenani’s arms. “Have a project for me, your grace?”

Hev bent down and tapped Connar on the head.

“Ow!”

“She doesn’t like titles.”

“Fine! You just needed to say. Ugh, that hurt!”

“Ah, I didn’t get ye that bad.”

“Says you,” Connar shot back, rubbing his head and wincing. He shook off the pain and annoyance and turned his attention back to Nenani and Jae. “So, what’ve you got for me, your-not-grace?”

“Nonna gave me this,” she said, holding out the dagger. “And I was wondering if you could make me a belt for it.”

Connar reached out and took the dagger, pulling it from its sheath and inspected the blade. Holding it to the light, he turned his eyes to Nenani. “You’re Thorn?”

“On my father’s side. Yeah.”

His eyes drifted down to the amulet around her neck. “And what about that?”

“It’s a fire opal,” she explained. “It helps keep my magic from spilling out all at once so I don’t die.”

Above them, Hev grunted, his eyed wide. “That can happen?”

“Yep,” Jae answered for her. “Almost did.”

“Well, that would be bad,” Connar replied. His eyes lingered on the metal chain. “Might want to swap that chain though. The links are far too thin to be holding up something that heavy. It’s gonna bust loose if you’re not careful.”

Connar slipped the dagger back into its sheath and then inspected the leather work of it. He hummed appreciatively. “They’re well made. The metal is very good. The blade needs sharpening, but I don’t think they really sharpen these. They’re ceremonial if I’m remembering right. Can’t have little kids stabbing each other, I suppose.”

He handed it back to Nenani, but as she tried to reclaim the dagger, the roll of leather fell from her arms. Connar picked it up and let it unroll. Holding it up, he whistled. “This would do well for a nice belt. But, is that all you’re wanting? Just a belt? There’s a lot more material here.”

She shrugged. “What else could you do with it?”

Connar gave her a devilish grin. “Oh, so many things. Tell you what. If can trust me enough, go on and leave me this here leather and come back to see me in...oh, about two days? I’ll have something for you.”

She nodded and smiled. “Okay.”

Jae stepped up and held out the bottle to him. “Here. Something to sweeten the pot.”

Connar’s eyes lite up. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah,” Jae replied. “Promised Farris I’d keep away from it. So I’m back sucking lime flower leaves.”

Connar quickly rolled the leather back up and slipped it under his arm before eagerly grabbing up the bottle. “Well, that’s your loss,” he said and then looked back to Nenani. “Let me revise my previous statement. Come back in three days and I’ll have something you’ll absolutely love. And I’ll see about getting a better chain for your amulet too.”

“Thank you!” she said excitedly.

Conna held up the bottle. “No, thank you.”

………………………..

Despite the cold weather, the repairs on the west wing were coming along at an astonishing pace. All the broken roof tiles had been pulled off and the masonry underneath taken apart, stone by stone, and finally the fire damaged wood beams. Large new timbers had been delivered and installed to replace them and the masons were now laying back the foundation stones with fresh mortar. But as the giants worked, their craftsmanship was not the focus of Nenani and Jae’s fascination.

“How would it even have gotten there?”

“It must be part of the original structure. Like the tunnels.”

“You’re saying that the humans who built those tunnels would have also been the ones to build that?”

“Well, who else would have?”

“There’s no way!”

“They must have, though. Unless ancient Vhasshalans did.”

“It’s huge!”

“What? You don’t think humans can build big things? Have you ever seen castle Nethwyn? Well...I guess you haven’t. But’s it’s freaking huge too. The great hall was big enough to fit a hundred people and thirty giants comfortably. At least that’s what I always heard.”

From the vantage point of a high gable, Jae and Nenani stared down into the open wound of the west wing’s roof and at an enormous stone head that rose up from within the thick walls. It was nearly as tall as a giant and three times as wide. The damage done by the dragon’s attack had revealed it when work began on the repairs and more astonishing was that there seemed to be more the further down they went. The back of its head faced into the corridor and was the majority of what was visible while its face, still obscured by the outer stone wall, looked out into the valley.  

“I thought Warren was just having a laugh when he said they found a giant head in the wall,” Jae said. “Or that maybe I just understood what he was telling me. Yaesha had given me some potent tonics.”

“Do you think there’s more of them?” Nenani asked.

“Maybe,” he said lightly. “But seeing how dug in that one it, it might take another dragon attack for the others to be dug out.”

Nenani made a face. “I wonder if he’s gonna have them wall it back up.”

“Don’t know. Seems a pity to cover it back up again.”

“Yeah.”

A short silence fell between them.

“So,” Jae said, breaking the quite, and tilting his head to peer at her curiously. “You ready for your official debut at court?”

“No,” she replied, her eyes watching one of the workmen slather a trowel with mortar and place a vaguely square shaped stone into place and giving it a rapid tap with the butt of his trowel before turning back to his bucket and beginning the process again with the next stone. “But I’ll be there. I’m just gonna do what Lolly said and just...sit there and look pretty. I guess. The dress is pretty heavy so that might be all I can do anyway. Are you going?”

He sighed. “Warren asked me if I would come and I tried to make an excuse, but Rosanna answered for me. So I’m going. And she’s already picked out my clothes for me and everything. And I swear she’s deliberately choosing the doublets that are just constricting enough for me not to be able to have any free movement. It’s like what I imagine wearing a corset’s like.”

Nenani laughed. “She knows you better than you give her credit for.”

“I mean...it’s nice not having to look over my shoulder all the time, but really. She’s starting to act like she’s my mom. Just this morning for example! When I went to talk to Warren, she didn’t like how I combed my hair and then did it for me. And Warren had the biggest shit-eating grin. It’s been years since I’ve had the urge to hit him, but ugh...got really close then. Could have done with that arm of yours. Wouldn’t thrown my damn shoe at him.”

“Yale must be right, then,” Nenani giggled. “Maybe she’s practicing being a mommy on you.”

Jae glared at her with an unimpressed look.

“So, speaking of the dinner,” Nenani said, steering the conversation away from the subject of the Queen. “Do have any pointers for me? On what I should and shouldn’t do?”

“Oh sure,” Jae replied. “A warning: a lot of courtiers might try to mess with you.”

“Mess with me?” Nenani frowned. “How?”

“Nothing too bad. And I don’t think Eldherst will bother you. I’m gonna bet he’ll be pestering Warren about the armory again. I just mean a lot of the Lords in power now were there during the war and some still harbor...ill feelings towards humans. Though not overtly. They’re a lot more...subtle about it. One or two of the older ones just saw me as Warren’s pet when I first came. One of them even asked me once wear my leash was and why I wasn’t on it. Should’ve told Warren about it, but I was still a kid and just wanted to leave. But I told Keral the next day. Supposedly he crushed up a dried red dragon pepper and slipped it into the Lord’s snuff box.”

With a look of horror, Nenani put her hand to her nose. Her mind supplying the mental image of someone snorting even just a small bit of regular pepper sounded horribly painful. But her horror turned into giggles and Jae grinned with her.

“For you though, the one I’d look out for most is Lord Calem. Tallish guy. Always wears this hideous yellow coat and wears too much cologne. You’ll be able to smell him long before you see him.”

“Why? Does he not like humans?”

“No. Opposite in fact. He is...very friendly.”

She looked at him askance. “How...is that a bad thing?”

It was Jae’s turn to make a face. “He’s a well meaning, but totally condescending idiot with no sense of personal space. And when he drinks, he gets all...cuddly. Especially with humans. I’ll tolerate Kol’s nonsense to a point. He’s my friend. But not Colem. He’s one of the main reasons I stopped going to those things.”

“What?” she laughed.

“Yep. He’ll want to pet you. Like...a pet. Like a dog. After two glasses of wine, he’ll get all up in your face and try to pet on you,” Jae said with a grin and then shrugged. “And since you’re small and cute, better watch out.”

She blinked at Jae’s choice of words, feeling her face flush.

“What?” he asked, looking at her.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly.

“...serious. You all right? I mean, the guy’s annoying, but he’s no Thrist.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

“...you just...well...you called me cute.”

“Uh huh..?” He drawled, squinting at her and she felt the heat in her face increase and she turned away from him to try and hide it. He leaned into her field of vision, a single eyebrow raised. “You feeling okay?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Yup.”

“Because you’re red.”

“I’m fine.”

“Like...beet red.”

“I said I’m fine!”

He smirked at her suddenly. “Oh.”

“Shut up,” she snapped and rose to her feet, turning to the open window behind them and hoping down onto the table below.

Jae leaned over to peer at her. “But I didn’t say anything...”

She glared at him. “I said shut up!”

With a smug grin so reminiscent of Keral that she felt the very real urge to punch him, he said, “You...you don’t fancy me do you?”

“No!” Her fingers sparked as she slammed the window shut and then pulled the latch down for good measure.

“Hey!” Jae got to his feet and pushed at the window. “Open up! Geez, Nenani, I was just joking!”

Nenani pretended she couldn’t hear him as she carefully climbed down the table leg, too angry and mortified to feel any pride in having gotten down off of a table all on her own.

“Nenani! Come one!”

“There are other windows!” she called back as she rounded the corner to find the tunnel door.

....................................

BONUS ART: Oh look! It’s ol’ Hev. 

[lu-undy]

Chapter 8 - SBT

Here it is :)

"G'day, mate."

"Oh hey M! What brings you here? Need somethin'?" 

Mundy had found Eddy in his shop. 

"Nah, not really. I mean I don't need stuff so far. I just wanted to apologise." 

The short man behind the counter raised surprised eyes to his tall friend. 

"Why would you apologise?"

"I was a bit harsh with you maybe. You didn't deserve any of that." 

"What're you talkin' about? Nah man, it's fine!"

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah! Though uh, I'm glad you remember where my shop is, eh?" Eddy said and smiled wide. 

"Yeah, don't worry, I can't forget. Roight, better get going. I got stuff to do." Mundy answered and walked back to the front door of the hunting equipment shop. 

"Hey, M?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Good luck, but you won't need it!"

The Aussie nodded with a smile. 

"Thanks, mate." 

Back in his van, Mundy took a deep breath and turned the key in. He heard his campervan roar decidedly and started driving around in town. He had a few names who he knew could help. The first of them was a certain Phil Baxter. The man had ears everywhere for animal goods circulating around. Mundy drove to the pier. Phil had a small import/export business. Most of his activity had to do with bringing to Australia lamb derived products from New Zealand. But, there always was a but, it happened that sometimes his crates contained more than mere lamb chops… 

The Aussie parked his van and walked to the building next to the port where the seagulls flew by the dozen, trying to see if this tall man had anything they could snatch off of him. Mundy entered and took the stairs to the third floor. He went through a corridor, crossing paths with men in suits and ties as much as local fishermen. He finally stopped in front of a door and gave a short few knocks. 

"Busy!" The voice answered. 

Mundy pushed the door anyway and looked at the desk. Phil was giving his back to him, on his office chair and spun around to face him. 

"I said I'm bu--oh, bugger… I'll have to call you back." He hung up the phone and Mundy stepped in, shutting the door behind him. 

"Mundy, is that really you…?" The man in the light blue shirt and dark blue trousers and tie stood up and went to him.

"Yeah, it is."

"My God! How long has it been!" 

They exchanged a dear friendly hug. 

"Quite a few years now, I think." Mundy answered.

"More like a decade! What brings you here? Oh, and sit down of course, want anything to drink? Coffee? Tea?" 

"Coffee would be nice." Mundy answered as he sat down.

"Alright, just a second…" Phil resumed his seat and took his phone. He quickly composed a single digit number. "Vanessa? Yeah, 2 coffees in my office. One for me and one just black. You still like your coffee black, right?" He looked at Mundy who nodded. "Alright then. Ok, thanks." 

He hung up and raised his eyes and his attention to his guest. 

"Alright then, to what do I owe the pleasure?" 

Mundy removed the hat off his head and lowered his head.

"Uhm… I guess I should start by explainin' m'self a bit. I kinda disappeared for a bit of time." 

Phil listened carefully. 

"I uh… Things happened that meant that I couldn't continue doing what I used to. So I just stopped and uh… Yeah, well, I stopped everything. Sorry I didn't say it properly or anythin'."

"Whatever happened must have been pretty serious, eh?" Phil asked but before his guest could answer, Vanessa the secretary entered and put the two coffee cups on the desk. "Thanks Vanessa." 

She nodded, her eyes never leaving her boss's guest and exited. 

"Alright then, that's your cup, and that's mine." 

"Thanks, mate." 

"No problem. So yeah, go on…" 

Mundy took a sip and resumed his speech. 

"Yeah, I stopped everythin' and went off the radars." 

"Took a break?" Phil asked. 

"Kind of. I thought I wouldn't step in again but…" 

"But your sitting here in front of me and sharing a coffee means that you had to take a break off your break, hm?" 

Mundy nodded. 

"Yeah. Look, it's been ten years and I disappeared without sayin' anything which I guess makes me the worst kind of professional partner you could think of."

"But?" Phil anticipated. 

"But I need your help like before." Mundy said, embarrassed.

"What is it you need?" 

The tall man raised his eyes to the office worker. 

"Why the surprised look?" Phil asked. 

"I didn't expect you to accept helping."

"You think I'd hold a grudge or somethin'? Mundy, it's been ten years! I thought you'd got caught and died!"

"What?!" 

"What else d'you want me to think?! One day you're here, running after God knows who and then radio silence for a decade!" Phil exclaimed and raised his arms to the All-Mighty. Mundy sighed. 

"I-I'm sorry." 

"Mate, I'm just relieved you're not dead. You're doin' Nature's work in this country where no one else cares. If folks understood the importance of what Mother Nature is giving us, if they could understand that they're drawing more than her very breath, if they could see that they're bleedin' her dry, they'd bloody thank you at least."

Mundy shrugged. 

"'m not doin' this for the praise or the applause, mate. Not that I'm gettin' it anyway." 

Phil looked at him gently. 

"I'm bloody well aware. I don't know why you decided to stop and why now you're here in front of me. But if you need me, it'll be like the good old days for me." 

Phil stood up and went around his desk. He extended his hand to his partner. 

Mundy raised his eyes to the hand that was offered to him. 

"So, what d'you say?" 

The Aussie stood up and grasped the hand firmly before Phil hugged him dearly.

"Good to see you again, mate. So nice to see you alive and well…! You haven't changed a bit!"

"Well, I have a few more lines on my face now."

"But still no grey hair, eh? Lucky you!" Phil answered, carding his hair that had barely started turning grey on his temples.  "Alright then…! What d'you need?" 

The office worker regained his seat and faced his friend. 

"Have you heard of 'gators recently?" Mundy asked.

"Alligators?" Phil repeated. 

"Yeah."

"Nah, sorry mate. We've had sharks, snakes, kangaroos, dingoes and countless others but no 'gators… Actually, now that I have the M in front of me, can I ask you somethin'?" Phil looked his friend in the eye. 

"Sure." 

"Alright then." Phil rolled on his chair closer to his friend. "There's been a recent uh… spike let's say, in stuff that we were asked to transport." 

"From Oz? To where?"

"From New Zealand to Oz and, well, from Oz to itself."

"What?!" Mundy asked. "I thought you transported sheep stuff from New Zealand and back?" 

"That was true ten years ago mate. Now we also do internal shippin' within Australia." 

"Oh, wow, had no idea…" Mundy answered. "But yeah, tell me more."

"Basically, a lot of our trucks are hired here and there. It's not something we should be doin' strictly speakin' but as long as the client pays the gas and returns the trucks in good conditions, we're fine." 

"I see."

"Recently, it's not just mine but also the competition's trucks that we've seen drive along, side by side here and there. I've had a few employees tellin' that. Imagine, our trucks and theirs, drivin' side by side, what the hell…?"

Phil took a sip of his coffee. 

"So I thought the competition's been messin' with us. I took the phone here and gave a few calls. Turns out they were under the same impression as us. They were thinking that we were playin' with their nerves! Now, they might be bluffin' but…"

"Don't believe it?" Mundy asked. 

"Nah, not really. Somethin's fishy about it."

"I see. But what's it got to do with me?" 

"Well, they returned the trucks and they were spotless clean but, the other day, I had one of my men sent in one of them and as soon as he stepped in, he started sneezin' like crazy and couldn't breathe."

Mundy's eyebrows jumped up. 

"He's allergic to cats." 

"Cats?" Mundy repeated.

"Yeah." 

"Well" The Aussie chuckled. "What d'you want me to do with that?" 

"I don't know but it all seems to fall a bit too well. First we're asked to get some more things from New Zealand, then the cat's fur, and now you here…"

"Mate, you might be overthinkin' it. I can't possibly see how any of that is related. Alright, you got a bit of a bump in yer business, which is good, right? More means more money, isn't it? And then one of yer men is allergic to cats, hell, even I used to be like that when I was a kid. And besides all that, I'm enquirin' about alligators."

"You might be right…" Phil massaged his own brow with his fingers. "Might need a break." 

"Yeah, 'specially if you've had a lot of work recently." Mundy confirmed. 

"Yeah, nah… I'm really glad to see you back in the business though. I'll let you know if I hear more from your alligators."

"Thanks mate." 

Both stood up and shook hands. Mundy went to the door. 

"Oh wait, I got a new phone number for, y'know, special business. You might use that one if you ever need to see me. Here's the number." 

Phil scribbled it down on a post it note and handed it over to Mundy. 

"Alright. I'll keep that in mind, mate. Thanks. See ya!"

"See ya and stay safe!" 

The Aussie soon found himself in his van again, driving back to town. 

"Roight… If Phil hasn't heard about my 'gators, they can't have left Oz. Not yet. That's good. I still have my chances." 

He looked through his rear view mirror quickly and continued driving. 

"Then, next stop is to the usual reserves. The one to the west has swamps and water facilities so if the gators were caught, they should be there." 

He had worked with them before too. He just hoped they would remember him.

The Australian drove decidedly for a good hour or so. He felt a bit nervous as he came closer to the reserve. He was ashamed of his own self. Phil thought he was dead. Was he wrong? 

Biologically speaking, of course not. The man breathed and was in good health. But in his mind, not really. Mundy had been much closer to dead than he was to being alive back then. But could anyone blame him, after everything he had gone through? 

He didn't have the time to think further as the van stopped in front of the reserve. He stepped out and walked to the door where he knocked. 

"Oh, hello there, how can I help?" 

Mundy removed his hat and lowered his head in front of the lady at the reception.

"I uh… I was wonderin' if Matt was still workin' here?" 

"Yeah he is. Do you need me to call him?" 

"Yes please. Uhm, tell him that M is at the door, will ya?" 

"Sure!" 

The blond lady took her walkie-talkie and said. 

"Matt, there's a gentleman to see you here." 

There was a second of silence before a voice answered. The quality of the sound wasn't the best but Mundy could still clearly understand. 

"Who's that? I'm not waitin' for anyone." 

"The gentleman's name is M…?"

"Holy shit!" 

Matt cut on the spot and Laura seemed surprised.

"He must be on his way. Take a seat and wait for him if you want." 

"Uh, yeah, sure, thanks." 

Mundy sat on one of the orange plastic chairs in the hall and waited. A few minutes had passed when the sound of a car woke him up from his daydreaming. He heard it stop and its door was slammed shut. An instant later, a man flung the door open.

"M? Is that you?" 

"I don't know, d'you do remember me, eh?" 

"Mate, it's been so long… We thought the worst had happened to you, or that maybe you just stopped."

Matt threw himself at the Aussie who had just stood up and hugged him dearly.

"Well, I kinda did, yeah." 

"Come in, come in! The rest of the team's busy, we've been super full of work y'know but -- holy shit, mate, it's really you!"

Mundy raised his eyes and he realised that the young black man who worked there was now a full blown adult, no doubt about that. 

"Bloody hell, you grew up so much, Matt. It's hard to believe it's still you… Look at you now, big and strong, with a beard…!"

Matt looked up at the taller man. 

"And you haven't changed a bit, even your clothes are the same style…!"

It was all so strange. 

"How old are you now?" The Aussie asked.

"Twenty-five, man. It's been ten years!" 

They walked out and both embarked on Matt's jeep. 

"C'mon, I'll give you a tour!" 

Mundy nodded and accepted the invitation. The young man drove him around the wide area of natural decor that countless species shared. 

"Bloody hell, is this all of the reserve? It used to be so much smaller…! You guys used to have only reptiles, snakes, crocs, alligators and the like…"

"Yeah but we managed to get more land and more animals."

"Still have the reptiles?" Mundy asked. 

"Oh, yeah, heaps more now. We even got new generations of them." 

"Ah, that's nice. Been workin' hard then, eh?" 

"Yeah, kinda, but I'm not complainin'. It's a beautiful job." 

Mundy smiled. The young man next to him had grown indeed but some aspects of his character had remained, among which the passion he had for animals. 

Matt stopped the jeep in front of a big house. 

"Is that yer headquarters?" 

"Nah, more of a small one. Let's get inside and we can have a chat, yeah?" 

Mundy nodded and followed the young man. 

"So what's your job title now, Matt?" 

"I'm in charge of the crocs!"

"Really?! I remember you were terrified of them!"

"Yeah but I was taught how to handle them and I grew to like them. And I think they like me too!"

Both entered a room with sofas, a big table and a TV. It resembled a classic living/dining room. 

"Please M, sit down. Want anything to drink?" 

"Just water please."

"Alright, gimme a minute." 

And a minute later Matt came with two glasses in his hand. 

"Here you go…!"

"Ah, thanks mate." 

They both sat next to each other and took a good sip of their drinks. 

"Anyone else apart from you who's still working here?" Mundy asked.

"Yeah, most of the team is, I think. Oh, actually Dave retired."

"Ah, fair, the man was already too old back then." Mundy said. 

"Yeah, and Kate, she's havin' her third kid, she's out on maternity leave!"

"Kate? She's got kids?!" 

"Yeah, mate! Oh you've missed so much… We can do the catchin' up later. I'm curious, what brings you back?" 

"Well, business… I'm lookin' for 'gators and I wanted to know if you had heard anythin' about them." 

"What kind of 'gators?" 

"There's this bloke called Johnson. He owned some-"

"Yeah, Johnson, I know him. He called us a few times and we went there to help him out when he first got his alligators. Oh  shit… Don't tell me those ones got stolen?"

Mundy grimaced and nodded.

"Yeah… Yeah, they did."

"All of them?"

"All of them. Stolen right under his nose." 

"Bloody hell, M, those were the last ones!"

"I know, that's why I'm here with you."

Matt drank more of his water to digest the information. 

"So, heard of anythin' about them?" Mundy asked.

"No, I'm sorry, no one came with more animals. If anything we were super busy because of poachers ourselves."

"What happened?" The tall man asked. 

"They've been visitin' us more and more lately and they only take the good stuff eh. They know what they want these ones… I'm sorry, M, I'm probably adding to your problems here."

"Nah, nah, go on." 

"It started with some crocs. I was furious and felt absolutely powerless… Then came the antelopes, some birds, and even some panthers." 

"When did that all happen?" 

"In about a few months now, two, maybe three. We're seriously concerned now and standing guard durin' the night doesn't really help. The reserve is huge and we're not enough to cover it all entirely, even with volunteers…" 

"D'you have any leads about the thiefs?" Mundy asked. 

"No… Not really. You're gonna laugh but…" 

Matt hesitated. 

"Go on, mate, it's the same old me. You can talk." 

"Yeah… Well I've been prayin' for you to come back. Each Sunday when I'd go to church. I'd add a prayer, asking for you to not be dead and come back. I even thought of… I thought of quittin' my job here and takin' up yours basically."

Mundy's eyebrows jumped behind his glasses. 

"Someone has to scare the poachers away, we can't let them come and go like that, takin' whatever they want! And I remember how you'd always come and bring back the animals that had been stolen. It was magical, really. One day they were gone, the next day we'd call you and poof, they would re-appear…"

Matt smiled in nostalgia. 

"But then I realised that I had no idea where to start to be the new M, so I abandoned and just stuck to prayin'...."

"Well then I guess you have to go this Sunday and say thanks to the one up there, eh?" Mundy answered and his young friend smiled. 

"Yeah, guess so…"

Silence fell for a moment and Mundy downed the remainder of the water in his glass. 

"M?"

"Hm?" 

"Are you really back?"

The Aussie took a deep breath. 

"S'ppose I say yes, then what?" 

"Please find my crocs. They were a family… The bastards even broke the eggs they had laid…"

Mundy saw Matt's pleading eyes and found it hard to refuse. It was a grown man who was asking him but he saw the very young adult who would come and help during his holidays… 

"I… I can't promise, mate. But I'll keep you in mind. If I hear anythin' about them, I'll give you a call, ok?"

"Yeah… Actually, let me give you the phone number. They had it changed a few times I think since you were gone." 

Matt rose from the sofa and took a newspaper lying on the table. He tore the corner of a page and scribbled his name and the number. 

"There, if you call that, you'll have Laura at reception. Then ask for me and she'll call me on my walkie-talkie, same as she did today."

"Alroight, thanks mate."

"Let's get to the jeep, I'll give you a ride back." 

"Yeah, thanks." 

After a few minutes, Mundy was back in his van. He rolled the window down for Matt to speak. 

"Good to see you back, M. It's been too long. We've all missed ya here." 

The older man smiled. 

"Thanks, mate. I think I've missed it too somehow."

"See ya, M!"

"See you too, Matt!" 

The Aussie rolled his window back up and drove away, his thoughts still rolling. Matt hadn’t heard about his alligators so they weren’t in any reserve or zoo. Right then, Mundy needed to visit another person. It all felt a bit unsettling, walking back in his own steps, reviving friendships like dead plants. Now he was feeling the weight of the past decade. Time had continued passing, even though it had stopped for him. People had continued growing, Matt was now a man. Companies thrived, Phil was very successful. Mundy raised his eyes and looked in his rear view mirror. All those changes and he had stayed the same, like the gear of a clock stuck on midnight.  

[eiirisworkshop]

InuYasha Fic (working title “Sesshomaru The Babydaddy)

For Good Intentions WIP Fest, details of which can be found @goodintentionswipfest

Years ago I had an idea for a fic about Sesshomaru having a half-demon kid; like I think I might have been in middle school when I first started this.  I’ve poked at it a few times over the years, but now that the InuYasha sequel is out and brushing close to my idea in some key ways I doubt I’m ever gonna find the motivation to finish it, just feels redundant since it’s been so thoroughly jossed.  And I also don’t want to watch the sequel, because it’s too close and I know I’ll like my idea better, because it’s my idea.

***

He ran his fingers through her long, raven hair and she ran hers through his white.  No one in the world could see them—no one needed to. Only the sliver of moon bore witness as it shown through cloud and canopy, bleaching the earth in pools of silver.  She was soft, fragile, unafraid.  She very nearly frightened him, and she knew it.  He liked it.

In the dark it was easy to forget—or, at the very least, ignore—that they were from opposing worlds.  In any case, they didn't have to forget for long.

She woke to the warmth of morning sun filtering through the boughs of the wild cherry tree beneath with she lay on a white kimono that was not hers.  She knew without opening her eyes that she was alone.

Inuyasha yawned and stretched as he walked.

[The gang talks, Kagome is on break from school.  They get to a little, remote villiage.]

Sango glanced around, eyes narrowed.  “You know how people tend to stare at InuYasha like they're worried he's gonna eat them?”

“Yeah...?” Shippo said.

“The people here are hardly noticing him.”

[IY says something about prefering this situation to being attacked/chased]

“Sure, but it's strange.”  Sango frowned.  “It makes me nervous.”

[Miroku drags IY over to question an old lady at a well.]

Miroku: “Hello, ma'am.  My friend here is a half-demon, did you know that?”

The woman set her now-full bucket on the ground.  “Mhm, figured so, him looking like that.”

“Hm.” Miroku released his grip on the squirming honyou.  “And that's not....interesting or alarming or anything?”

The old woman shrugged.  “Sort of used to it.”

InuYasha stopped himself a hair's bredth from throttling the monk.  “What d'you mean you're used to it?”

“Inn keeper's daughter's the same way.  Pretty little thing, real sweet long as you don't make her mad.”  The woman laughed, grabbed her bucket and started down the street.  “Folks 'round here can't agree if that girl's fire comes from her mama or whatever dark thing begot her!”

[The gang decides to go to the inn]

#

InuYasha kicked the inn door open with a bang.  The only person in the dimly lit room didn't even jump.  She just looked up with a smile from wiping down a table and bowed politely.  “Good afternoon, welcome. Do you need a table, a room, or both?”

The girl was slim, young—no older than thirteen—but tall for her age, with a thick white braid hanging down to the small of her back.  She was dressed in pale blue umanori over an orange kimono with tied up sleeves, a bright spot of color in the mostly drab room.  Small, canine ears poked out from the bandana tied around her head, and she looked through her too long bangs with large tawny eyes.

InuYasha stalked up to her, invading her personal space, and started sniffing. She leaned away from him, eyeing him like he was crazy.  “Uh, I'll get my mother.”

She darted to the stairs and out of sight.

“You didn't have to scare her like that,” Kagome chided.

“It smells like my brother.”  InuYasha crossed his arms and made a face of disgust.

[The girl (Hoshi)'s mother comes down, introduces herself as Akiko, mention's Hoshi's name too]

“Why the hell does your kid smell like my brother?”

“No idea.”  Akiko crossed her arms.  “Why does your brother smell like a twelve year old girl?”  She shifted her focus to the rest of the group.  “You here for supper or for the night?  Or are you just here for your friend to make trouble?”

[So much stuff and things happen.  Not sure how long passes.  The gang leaves town.  They're not far out of town when they happen to run into Sesshomaru]

“You!” InuYasha stabbed a finger at his brother.  “You hypocritical son of a bitch!”

Sesshomaru leveled a look of disdain at his father's younger son.  “What are you talking about?”

“You've got a half-human kid!”

[Sesshi has a “pics or it didn't happen” reaction so they all head back into town.]

Akiko looked up from were she was keeping book at one of the dining tables. “I thought you were heading out of town.”  She spotted Sesshomaru.  “Oh.”  She stood gracefully.  “You.”

Sango tilted her head toward the demon.  “Told you.”

“It means nothing that this woman recognizes me,” he said coolly.

“You're full of shit.”  Akiko rolled her eyes.  “What the hell happened to you arm?”  After too long a beat with no answer forthcoming, she shrugged.  “Well, I guess you only need one....”

InuYasha cringed, catching the [sexual] side of her meaning.  “Do you have to say things like that?”

“Can you get over it that I slept with your brother?” she shot back quickly then crossed her arms and turned to the full demon.  “

[Stuff and things.  Hoshi comes in.]

“I'm done with inventory—”  Hoshi stopped talking abruptly and went very still.  One of her ears twitched.

Beside Kagome, Sesshomaru stiffened, eyes widening.  For a long moment, no one breathed.  Then, in a single flash of motion almost too fast to follow, Hoshi had crossed the room, stepped up onto a chair to augment her height, smacked her sire across the face, and fled upstairs.  Instantly, Sesshomaru bristled and snarled; a drop of blood oozed from one of the three long welts on his cheek where Hoshi's nails had caught him.

“Hey!” Akiko shouted and banged a hand on the table.  “Calm down.  You break anything in this building, so much as gouge a table, and I'll take your other arm off.  You put a single scratch on my daughter and I will end your life.  You hear me?”

He clenched his fist but otherwise feigned composure.  “I hear you.”

“Good.” Akiko headed for the stairs.

[much stuff and things, IDK]

[Sesshi gets drunk at some point]

“Can we talk?” Akiko asked softly.

“Cruel, giving me the illusion of choice.”

“Oh, you have a choice.”  She crossed her arms.  “You can say no and walk away.  I wouldn't suggest it, though.”

He inclined his head slightly.

She nodded.  “Walk with me?”

“Very well.”  He offered her his arm.  She took it and they set out along the path.

[Akiko explains that Hoshi does have valid reasons to resent Sesshomaru for]

“I don't blame you for not being here, even if I sometimes wish you had been.  I never expected you to stay.  I knew when I lay with you that you wouldn't.”

“Then why did you?”

She smiled.  “It was exciting.”

They stopped on the path in the shadow of a large conifer.  He disengaged their arms and touched her face.  She met his gaze unwaveringly.

“Why aren't you frightened of me?”

She shrugged.  “My mother used to say that you don't avoid the river just because you can drown.”  She smoothed one of her sleeves. “One need not fear something just because it's dangerous so long as you respect its power.”

“Mm.” He studied her a moment before leaning to kiss her.

She pulled away.  “Don't do that unless you mean it.”  He started to respond but she cut him off.  “I mean, unless you care.”

He took a small step back.

“Things are different than they were.  I'm different.  I'm a mother, a business owner.  I have obligations and responsibilities.  Before, I was girl with next to no prospects and no expectations.  All I wanted from you was whatever you were willing to readily give.

“For now, you're just passing through.  But if you kiss me, or anything else, you make yourself a part of things here.  You do that, and you'll be making a promise you had better not make unless you've every intention of keeping it.”

The corner of Sesshomaru's mouth twitched.  “I want you.”

“Too bad.”

He grabbed her shoulder roughly.  She smacked him across the face and took several steps back, away from him.

“Don't you dare!”  Akiko shouted.  She lowered her voice to a snarl.  “Do not manhandle me.  You've no right.  You get to touch me only if I let you and only how I say.”  She straightened her clothes, drew herself up regally, and started back toward the inn.

InuYasha hopped up over a bolder, and there was Sesshomaru, sitting on the ground, eyes closed, back against a cherry tree.  A soft breeze blew through the clearing, stirring both their hair.  Without opening his eyes, the elder brother said, “What are you doing here?”

“Heh.” InuYasha crossed his arms.  “I was sent to go make sure you're not killing anything important.”

“I'm not killing anything at all.”

“Good. So, tell me to fuck off and I'll go back and say you told me to fuck off and I'll leave you alone and you can leave or whatever.”

Sesshomaru opened his eyes and looked up at the sky.  “Humans are soft.”

“Uh.” InuYasha blinked at the non sequitur. “Yeah, they're squishy and fragile and weak—all the shit you give me hell for being when I'm not. So what?”

“I didn't mean to frighten her.”

“So tell her that.”  He snorted.  “I don't care.”

“I could kill you.”

“Sure you could.”  Akiko put away the freshly scoured cups.  “So could your brother or any of his friends or my brother.  The ability to kill is not unique, Sesshomaru.”

“I would enjoy killing you.”

She rolled her eyes and reached for more dishes.  “Are you trying to make some kind of point?”

“I could kill you.  I know I would enjoy doing so.  But I don't want to.”

“Mhm?”

“I would prefer you remain alive.”

She snorted, halfway to a laugh.  “If you're trying to be affectionate, I appreciate the attempt, but you're really bad at it.”

“I've little practice.”  He stood, crossed the room, took a bowl from her hands, set it down, and touched her face.  He stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“Watch the claws.”

“I know.”  He tilted her chin up gently.

“You've done much for me,” he said softly.  “Borne and raised my child, when you need not have kept her....”

“If I'd given her up, who would have taken her?  Most childless bakers aren't looking for hanyou babes.”

“That's not what I mean by 'kept.'”

“What do you mean then?”

He fingered the ruff at his shoulder and glanced at her sideways.  “I know women have methods for...handling situations.”

Akiko looked to the floor.  “Yes.... But they're unreliable and dangerous and, I decided, not worth it.”

[bloody-bee-tea]

Inktober for Writers 2019 Day 31

Ripe - Dealer’s Choice

That’s it folks! It’s the last Inktober fic and this one comes in at 1.2k, so there’s a read more again.

Wen Ning isn’t sure how he always ends up as a third wheel to the people he loves, but by now it can’t be a coincident anymore.

At least Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi don’t forget he’s with them, unlike Young Master Wei and Hanguang-Jun did in the past.

Still, the scene in front of Wen Ning is all too familiar to him and he silently wonders if nurture is stronger than nature after all.

They are on a boat, drifting aimlessly around one of the many Lotus Ponds of Lotus Cove because Jin Ling didn’t have time for them yet and Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi where too bored to simply stay in the town.

Not that they are any less bored right now.

“I’m hungry,” Lan Jingyi complains and flops himself over Lan Sizhui’s lap.

Wen Ning can’t help the small, fond smile on his face and he looks down at his hands instead of watching them interact.

But he knows Lan Sizhui did not push Lan Jingyi away.

“Uncle Wen, do you have any food?” Lan Jingyi asks him and Wen Ning is sure he would blush if he still could.

He’s not Lan Jingyi’s uncle, but he doesn’t bother to correct him, because with the way it’s going between the two, he will be sooner or later, he’s sure of it.

“I do not,” he regretfully tells him and vows to always pack at least a little food from now on.

“We’re going to die,” Lan Jingyi complains loudly from his seemingly comfortable position on Lan Sizhui’s lap and it’s so similar to how Young Master Wei laid in Lan Wangji’s lap that for a second Wen Ning has trouble figuring out who it is in front of him.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lan Sizhui scolds him, but he puts a gentle hand on Lan Jingyi’s shoulder to take the sting out of his words. “You have eaten just a few hours ago.”

“Hours, Sizhui,” Lan Jingyi wails and catches Lan Sizhui’s face in his hands, looks up at him upside down. “I’m going to die, and then what are you going to do?” he wants to know and Wen Ning has to smile again.

Whereas Lan Sizhui is clearly Hanguang-Jun’s son, he still isn’t convinced that Lan Jingyi isn’t Wei Wuxian’s. They are just too similar sometimes.

“Mourn you,” Lan Sizhui gives back solemnly, and Lan Jingyi gasps theatrically.

“You wouldn’t even try to avenge me?” 

“How am I going to do that? Fight this pond because it didn’t provide any food for you?” Lan Sizhui asks and Lan Jingyi pouts up at him.

“You could at least blame Jin Ling a little bit,” he says petulantly and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“It’s not his fault he’s all busy being a sect leader,” Lan Sizhui reminds him and Lan Jingyi lets out a long huff before he sits up again.

Lan Jingyi doesn’t see it, because his back is turned towards Lan Sizhui, but his face briefly falls, and Wen Ning wonders just how long they are going to keep up this dance.

Everyone knows they’ll end up together eventually, anyway.

“Don’t be so reasonable,” Lan Jingyi mutters and looks out over the pond.

Wen Ning can see the moment he finally notices the Lotus flowers, because his face lights up.

“Hey, can’t we eat those?” he exclaims and reaches out for one of the seed heads. “Senior Wei said they are edible when they are ripe.”

He hands the one he just broke off to Lan Sizhui before he leans over the side of the boat again. 

“Here, Uncle Wen, one for you too,” he says as he holds the next one out for Wen Ning, and he is too touched to remind Lan Jingyi that technically he doesn’t need to eat.

Lan Jingyi breaks off a third seed head for himself and starts to get the seeds out.

“I really do hope they are ripe already,” Lan Jingyi mutters, but it doesn’t stop him from devouring one seed after another.

Wen Ning lets them eat, because the seeds are in fact good to eat, and then offers Lan Jingyi his own seed head when Lan Jingyi is done with his.

But Lan Jingyi devours that in a matter of minutes as well and then looks at the hundreds of remaining seed heads.

“I’m still hungry,” he mournfully says as he puts a hand over his stomach, but before he can reach out again, Wen Ning speaks up.

“These ponds have owners. They belong to someone.”

Lan Jingyi frowns at him. “They belong to Jin Ling?”

Wen Ning shakes his head.

“Not all of them. Some belong to his people.”

“So we just stole someone’s harvest,” Lan Sizhui says and Lan Jingyi knows exactly what that means, Wen Ning can see it in the dejected look he suddenly gets.

“So no more food, since it’s theft,”  he says with a sigh and melts against the side of the boat. “Fine, fine, Jin Ling has to get us soon, right? I’ll manage until then.”

His audibly growling stomach clearly wants to disagree and Wen Ning hides his smile behind his sleeve.

But Lan Sizhui catches his eye and he’s laughing, too, before he gets a pondering look on his face.

Wen Ning knows what it means, has seen it before, in exactly this situation even, and he slightly leans forward.

Lan Sizhui reaches over the side of the boat and breaks off a seed head that he then presents to Lan Jingyi.

Lan Jingyi takes it from him, before he turns with wide eyes towards Wen Ning.

It’s exactly the same as the time Hanguan-Jun broke off a seed head for Young Master Wei and all Wen Ning can do is pray that this younger generation won’t be as dense as the older one.

“Did he just--?” Lan Jingyi starts to ask, disbelieve clear in his voice and Wen Ning can see Lan Sizhui flush bright red.

He clearly hoped Lan Jingyi wouldn’t see it too, because he yelps when Lan Jingyi suddenly turns back around.

“Did you just break the rules? For me?” he wants to know and Wen Ning wishes he could vanish because Lan Sizhui squares his shoulders. Wen Ning knows what it means.

This should be a private moment. He shouldn’t be privy to this.

“I would do a lot more for you,” Lan Sizhui says, holding Lan Jingyi’s gaze, but he is nervous, Wen Ning can tell.

“Sizhui,” Lan Jingyi presses out, voice strangled, before he throws himself into Lan Sizhui’s arms.

“You can’t just say stuff like that, my poor heart,” Lan Jingyi mumbles into Lan Sizhui’s neck and Wen Ning wonders just how it is possible that this is not Young Master Wei’s son.

“It’s true. Needs to be said,” Lan Sizhui gives back and yes, he’s clearly Hanguang-Jun’s son, no doubt there.

“I love you, too,” Lan Jingyi says and Wen Ning thanks all the ancestors that at least Lan Jingyi is a little bit more aware of his own and of Lan Sizhui’s feelings.

Lan Sizhui throws a blinding smile at Wen Ning as he tightens his hold on Lan Jingyi and Wen Ning smiles back.

He knew it wouldn’t be long until he could call Lan Jingyi cousin, too. 

[firjii]

Boomers are autistic/ADHD too

Yanno what I’m just saying it and maybe I’ll get called a traitor or whatever but that doesn’t stop this from being a distinct possibility: there’s a lot of untreated, undiagnosed, unacknowledged ADHD and autism among boomers. I notice it every single day and I can’t believe more people don’t talk about it.

Stay with me because this gets long.

They didn’t know shit for shit about the brain when boomers were children. Hyper or “disobedient” children were beaten or given some other utterly useless and frequently detrimental punishment. Institutionalization was considered totally acceptable in moderately severe autism cases. Therapy as we know it was typically reserved for people who were so cripplingly traumatized in some way that there was literally no other choice. It was usually damage control after the fact, not intervention.

Yes, autism and ADHD have some form of research history spanning several centuries, but your average regular person didn’t know that (and still doesn’t always, since the 20th century is often egregiously known as the century of “new” medical “fads”). Your average doctor didn’t necessarily know about it. It was a relatively fringe topic, so not all psychiatrists/psychologists learned it because it was a blip (or nothing) on the syllabus unless maybe you were specializing in children or developmental disabilities (and there......really weren’t a lot of either such specialist up to a certain point :///).

Everyone else affected by it but deemed functional or marriable enough to try living in the world just dealt with it, for better and worse. Many of the blatantly obvious signs we now use for diagnosis were lumped in as a personality type/trait at best or an intelligence marker at worst.

And I get where that comes from......sort of. Brian is a persistently loud talker, Amy is deeply claustrophobic, Sam gets nervous easier than some other people, Alex needs a tiny bit more time to hand copy an address. Who is ND on closer investigation? Maybe all, maybe none. You can show a few signs without them being part of a big dire diagnosis conspiracy. Far be it for me to try to call someone something they’re not.

But given how many people are disregarded or misdiagnosed in general for anything medically-related whatsoever, it’s too easy to use that line of thought to dismiss a legitimate case or just plain avoid a problem. 

Some affected boomers thrived and found careers that valued (and even normalized!!)  hyperfocusing, attention to detail, channeled hyperactivity, etc. (LOOKIN AT YOU, COMPUTER ENGINEERS AND VARIOUS TECHIE INVENTORS). Some of them had/have somewhat chaotic or strained home lives, but for all intents and purposes, they do or have done at least some of what they wanted to in life.

But many others didn’t. Think about all the kids who were called “unteachable” so they barely finished high school (for fuck’s sake it was hard to even get humane tutoring for dyslexia), could barely ever keep a job, and in some cases weren’t truly prepared for having kids because they struggled to take care of themselves as it was.

Think about the stay-at-home moms who turned into lowkey addicts or alcoholics to escape feelings of uselessness/insignificance simply because sometimes they forgot to or couldn’t do something that day and everyone around them shamed them about all those little things for years or decades. We like to joke about yuppy drunks (and yes that was/is a real problem), but it wasn’t always about disgusting social habits.

Many of that generation blames the problems they’re dealing with right now on age, and that’s a close enough approximation in practice that a lot of people don’t dispute it. To be fair, age does really do that shit to people: you forget things easier, you can’t always finish a task but you’re not sure why, you don’t always have the energy you want/need, etc. Sometimes age is just age.

But I remember differently. I remember seeing those things because I was dealing with them too and couldn’t understand why the grownups were so upset at themselves when actually mistake XYZ wasn’t really a huge crisis and wasn’t a big deal – because there were double standards, both external and self-imposed. No one questioned them much with me – a small child at the time – but they were a big shitting deal when it came to an outwardly functional adult. I remember all the oddities, quirks, and problems that these people were dealing with as young as their late 30s in some cases.

That’s not age, it’s a goddamn brain issue. Age is now complicating things, yes. But so many want to pretend that they were completely normal before they turned 50 or 60 or whatever, at which point they promptly and swiftly had an overnight change. That’s not fair to anyone. It’s emotionally ruthless and medically sloppy, and yet a lot of them go on believing it anyway.

I genuinely feel that this is a reason why some boomers are so baffled or disbelieving of ND issues in their own kids and their kids’ kids. They can sometimes see younger generations’ problems in their own lives and even relate to them, but they’re so used to it – and in many cases, got zero help in learning how to manage it – that they don’t get what the big deal is about shoehorning people into miserable, unhealthy, or borderline hazardous life patterns. They assume that the massive struggle, intense frustration, and subsequent other negative health side effects are just….part of life and you either sink or swim.

And I…....kinda get that mentality because putting stock in “no excuses” does push some people to do better?? And yes you should be mindful of self-imposed excuses stopping you from doing things??

But now that overall lack of acknowledgement means that we have multiple generations who still default to believing that most of their problems are solely voluntary and conscious decisions, always and exclusively their own fault, something that they “could” just walk away from forever if they “chose” to.

We have multiple generations who still assume that they’re alone in their problems and even that they kind of deserve shitty or abusive behavior from others because they’re “bad” and “should have seen it coming” or “need to smarten up.”

We have children and grown-ass adults alike who are totally unprepared to deal with lifelong problems on top of things like broken economies and increasingly demanding neurotypicals’ social standards (because yeah, even though us younger folks warmly welcome things like the shift from calling to texting, that can still reach absurd levels of maintenance and anxiety because now the older generations assume that just because a few people are extremely “with it” that the rest of us are too).

And all because some people are so terrified of labels that they’re also willing to totally deny the existence of some very real medical stuff even though they themselves might be dealing with it.

I’m not trying to excuse crappy parents, bad home environments, bad education experiences, or anything else negative. I’m also not trying to blame all of psychology’s faults on one generation.

I’m just saying that it’s not that surprising if you really stop and think about it.

Psychology and neurology have come a long way in a fairly short time (granted it still needs to go much further, but at least we’ve started) and it kinda makes you wonder if things would be different now if our parents and grandparents had known then what we know now.

ASD doesn’t have an age limit. Just because it’s close to impossible for some people (especially borderlines and maskers) to get a formal diagnosis once they’re legal adults doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist at 30, 40, 50, 60, 70, or 80. It’s more a question of whether anyone bothers to, well...ask questions.

So yes, some people are just unapologetic assholes who don’t want to hear the truth or entertain any notions other than their own, even after being presented with hard evidence. They’re obsessed with normality, sometimes to the point of fetishization. Fuck them entirely, I agree.

But don’t assume that the younger generations own the copyright on neurodivergency. We just happen to live in a time when it’s starting to be less deniable so some of us can take action sooner to deal with it.

[keeroo92]

True North Part 2

Part two of the commission sent by @clevermentalitybeliever, 

Part 1

Word count - 3,219

Apologies for any issues, my editing tool crashed so back to old techniques. And I really hope you like Lord of the Rings XD

_______________

---V---

The work wasn’t easy. The customers often browsed for over an hour and left without buying anything. At first, he tried to help them, but quickly learned his previous retail experience of assistance and urgency barely applied. If someone needed help, they asked. Otherwise, his offers of help met incredulous looks and confusion.

After the first week, you started training him in appraisals with the help of several reference books. As much as he loved old fashioned furniture and classic décor, determining its value was challenging. You spent as much time as you could spare teaching him, but you had several demands on your time.

And it doesn’t help that we spend half the time laughing.

He smirked, leaning closer to the ornate vase on the counter. Early 1950’s, judging by the decay of the enamel and the geometric pattern. It was in good condition, no major cracks despite its age. He scrawled a messy thirty on the sticker, setting the item in the growing pile of glassware with one hand while his other reached for the next piece.

“You’re getting faster. Might be time I popped your cherry,” you said over his shoulder.

He choked on his tongue, coughing loudly enough to echo in the massive storage area.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Acquisitions. Why, did you have something else in mind?”

Well, if I didn’t before…

“Ha! Made you blush.”

“Yes, that’s a point to you. Twenty-three to seventeen, correct?”

You nodded as he stood and stretched, stealing a moment to recover. He tried not to picture a whole new way to win the ongoing contest; you were his boss and quickly becoming a friend. To imagine you naked and wrapped around him, flushed and sighing as he lifted your small form and held it against a wall was unquestionably inappropriate.

Not to mention I owe her three grand.

“In my favor, don’t forget that part!”

He grinned and did his best to adjust his suddenly too tight pants without drawing your attention. “I wouldn’t dare. What do acquisitions entail?”

You chuckled and grabbed your purse, digging through it until you found car keys. V always got a kick out of your quirky keychains and focused on the myriad of shapes to push away the last of his lingering arousal. None of them made sense to him, other than the lucky rabbit’s foot.

“Sometimes folks want an appraisal before they decide to donate or sell us their stuff. Got a call this morning, a death in the family and they aren’t sure what to do with what’s left behind. Might be some sad people there, but the house is on a beach at least.”

A beach. He hadn’t been in years, but the thought of salty air and rolling waves brought a smile to his lips. There might even be time to look for seashells.

“What are we waiting for?”

---Reader---

A fifteen minute drive later and you were knocking at the sandy front door of a single story beach house with paint that matched the sky. It was the perfect day for being on the sea, not a cloud to be seen and a gentle breeze relieving the worst of the heat from the hot sun. You scraped your feet on the entrance mat, losing the bulkof the sand stuck in your shoes as a middle aged man opened the door. His face was strained in grief and you met his mournful eyes with sympathy.

“Hi, you must be Mr. Sutherland. I’m Y/N, from Another Man’s Treasure, this is my associate V. I’m so sorry for your loss,” you said, reaching out to shake the poor man’s hand.

“Right. Thank you, please come in.”

With one last run over the rug, you followed him with V a step behind. Inside, the home was bright and cheery. Yellow pastel walls and light wooden furniture set a welcoming tone in the living area. Only the outlines of where photos once decorated the room reminded you of the reason for your visit.

“Mom kept her collection in the back, it’s this way,” Mr. Sutherland remarked.

He shuffled down a dim hallway to show you a back room stuffed with treasures. A beautifully preserved secretary’s desk, an intricate standing mirror and a stunning collection of porcelain plates caught your attention right off the bat, but that was only the beginning.  

The morose man led you through a narrow gap in the items to show the rest. The pristine bassinet from the 1800’s was a joy to behold, the vintage lamps a close second. This was going to be fun. You turned to the client and hid your excitement behind a tight seal of professionalism.

“We’ll treat each item with the utmost care, you have my word.”

He managed a small smile and left you to it.

The hours passed in a haze of assessment and discovery. Since the client was still in the home, you kept the laughter and joking to a minimum, and V was perceptive enough to follow your example. He worked diligently, and by early afternoon you had a final offer ready. You carefully returned the last of the plates to its stand and went to find Mr. Sutherland in the living room, typing away on a laptop.

“Mr. Sutherland? We’re finished,” you said. He closed the computer and waved you and V over to sit on the grey couch.

“Let’s hear it.”

“I can offer you $7,863.47 for the lot, and here’s a breakdown of each item. Do you have any questions?”

He accepted the folder and opened it, glancing at the figures within.

“I’ll have to run it by my sister, she might want one or two things. Can I email you next week?”

You stood and smiled, extending a hand for another shake. “Of course, take all the time you need.”

He gave you a sad smile and escorted the pair of you to the door. V paused by the car, taking a deep sniff of the sea air before climbing in. It was easy to see how much he liked the beach, and you smiled as your stomach rumbled and an idea popped into your head.

“Wanna grab lunch on the pier? Maybe a quick walk on the sand after?”

His wide smile was all the answer you needed, and you guided the sedan back to the main road with several options to choose from. In the end, you wound up grabbing street tacos from a food truck and sitting at a picnic table. It was heating up and as you chewed, you wished you had a skirt to change into before taking that stroll.

You swallowed. “Mind if we hit the surf shop before that walk? I don’t know about you, but I need something less hot to wear.”

V nodded mid-chew, a sprig of cilantro stuck to his lips. You chuckled and handed him a napkin, pointing at your own mouth to guide him. His hand paused and he smirked, staring you right in the eye as he slowly, teasingly licked his lips and hummed. Blood rushed to your face.

“Ha, now it’s twenty-five to nineteen!” he crowed in triumph.

Huh? What?

It took a few heartbeats for you to come to your senses. The glimpse of his tongue had you thrumming and you shifted your weight to ease the tension. It was impossible not to notice how attractive he was, but this was all in good fun. Right? He was only trying to even the score, using every tool at his disposal.

It didn’t matter. You were his boss. Self-control didn’t come easily to you, but this time it mattered.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t beat him at his own game, though.

You sighed and nodded, admitting his point as you reached for your milkshake. This was going to be so good. Your tongue wrapped around the straw and you closed your lips, sucking deeply so your cheeks hollowed. The faint remains of your blush still colored your face as you closed your eyes and hummed at the flavor.

V's breath audibly hitched. It was too much and you opened your eyes to see his gaze fixated on your lips as you withdrew the straw, his lids wide and pupils dilated. You cleared your throat with a smirk and his eyes shot to yours, his blush a stark contrast to his normally pale skin.

Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have done that. I’m torturing us both…

His lips parted. “Make that twenty-six to nineteen.”

Victory was sweet.

 _____________________

You backed off for the rest of the meal, too aware of your own attraction to dare pushing the envelope any further. V followed your lead, though he tried a few raucous jokes he probably got from Peter. Nothing new and you kept your cool with ease. You headed to the surf shop with the same score.

It didn’t have much outside swimwear, a few wraps and the like but nothing that wouldn’t be above the knee. You took a small bit of comfort in the fact that V had even fewer choices, only a speedo, swim trunks or board shorts.  You ducked into the only changing room and arranged the sarong with care. It was the only one they had that wasn’t transparent, and it barely brushed your kneecaps.

Well, here goes.

Why were you so nervous? It was just skin, and not even that much. Nothing to worry about, he’d seen worse from some of the vintage comics at work.What’s the worst that could happen? Maybe you’d score another point.

You pulled back the curtain, stepping aside so V could take his turn but he didn’t move. His brow was furrowed, more confused than anything else.

“What?” you asked.

He pursed his lips and shifted his weight. “Is that skirt supposed to be so short?”

“Shorter, actually.”

You pushed past him with a smirk and took a seat on the bench to wait as he changed. It didn’t take long, he probably didn’t have to adjust anything like you had. Men had it so easy with clothes. As the curtain parted, you couldn’t help the twitch of your lips and the cough of laughter that slipped through.

I can’t… I can’t handle this. I have to say it!

He was staring at you, the first hint of a blush appearing as he waited for some indication of the reason behind your strange reaction.

It’s so rude, though! But it’s too perfect!

He raised an eyebrow and the dam burst.

“The beacons are lit! The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid!”

A second eyebrow joined his first. He didn’t speak and as the seconds dragged on in silence, you realized why. Your jaw dropped and you looked at him with new eyes.

“Wait… have you never seen Lord of the Rings?”

“No. What is it?”

Oh my god… he must be joking.

“Frodo and the One Ring? One of the greatest fantasy stories ever told? The cornerstone of fantasy tropes for decades?”

He shook his head. He seriously had no idea what you were talking about.

Unacceptable.

You marched forward and grabbed his hand, tugging him to the register to pay. There was no time to waste. Did V live in a cave? How could he not even know what Lord of the Rings was, let alone have never watched the films?

“Come on, beach is cancelled. I hope you like sword fights.”

This is going to be so good! If he doesn’t even know the story it’ll just be that much better!

“Wait, what? Where are we going?”

You smirked. “My place. I have popcorn and all three extended editions. You didn’t have plans for tonight, did you?”

---V---

It was truly as you said – one of the greatest stories ever told. He was hooked in ten minutes, laughing along at Bilbo’s party shenanigans and furrowing his brow as Gandalf confronted him. The world of Middle Earth entranced him with its complexity and detail. It felt as real as the world he actually lived in, as real as the Qlipoth. And the music! Superb.

His soul shattered as Frodo screamed for Gandalf. The raw grief reminded him of his own losses and he found tears spilling from his eyes as Aragorn dragged the hobbit away. The sheer heroism of Borimir’s last stand left him speechless, a stunning display of redemption. He hoped he could redeem himself so thoroughly. As the credits rolled on Fellowship, you turned to him with a huge grin, a gleam of excitement in your eyes.

“Well? What did you think?”

He struggled to find words for a moment, finally settling on a question. “You did say there’s three of these, right?”

The leather couch squeaked as you bounced happily, clapping your hands. It was easy to see how much you loved the story, and his heart warmed at how quick you’d been to demand he experience it. Inviting him into your home, making popcorn and dimming the lights. He didn’t even mind that he’d missed the beach, this gave him far more enjoyment. Especially when he glanced at you and saw you biting your lip, watching his reactions throughout the film.

Her joy is contagious.

“Yes! I knew you’d like it! Who’s your favorite character? Actually, no you should watch the rest first! Do you want more popcorn? I have some chicken too if you want something more substantial.”

He smirked, pitching his voice as close to Gandalf’s as he could. “Just popcorn, thank you.”

“You did not just do that! I’m so proud of you!”

And then your arms were around him. Hugging him. Squeezing his shoulders. He could smell your hair, feel the warmth of your body. Who was the last person to hug him? How long had it been?

It didn’t matter. He lifted his arms and returned your embrace, trying to toe the line between friendship and something more intimate. The moment he felt you pull back, he mirrored you and schooled his features into a smile.

“Bathroom’s on the left there, if you need it. I’ll get the popcorn!”

That seems wise.

He forced his legs to move at a normal pace to the bathroom. He didn’t need to use it, but a moment to clear his head was too valuable to refuse. The lines were clear, the boundary should be easy to respect. But somehow, it was becoming more difficult. V splashed some cool water on his face and sighed, staring into his green eyes in the mirror.

This was supposed to be simple. Make amends. Nothing more.

As long as he was careful, there was no reason anything had to change. It was just a hug, it didn’t even last that long. He’d tone down his jokes, but he was too selfish to push you away outright. Fool that he was.

He sighed again. Maybe he should just leave? Make some excuse and go home? No, too obvious. You’d see right through it. Plus, he really wanted to finish the movies.

He was starting to understand what Bilbo meant by feeling like butter, scraped over too much bread.

“Hey, you want something to drink? I’ve got some light beer, or water,” you asked from the hall.

Alcohol would be extremely unwise. I’m already barely holding on.

“Water sounds lovely,” he called back. He waited a moment longer and flushed the toilet, hiding his absurdity. A quick wash of his hands and he rejoined you on the couch, picking the same exact spot he sat in before so nothing seemed amiss. A glass of water was waiting for him and he took a few sips as the second film opened.

The hours flew by in a whirlwind of rocky plains and horses, black orc flesh and white wizard robes. If the first film left him speechless, the second left him gob smacked. Never would he forget the image of the Rohirrim, riding over the cliffs to save their king with the sun streaming over their armored shoulders. He’d been a little worried that the battle was lost and cheered at the victory. As the credits rolled, he stood to stretch with a smile.

“Ready for more?” you asked. He glanced down at you and nodded, his earlier discomfort forgotten in his eagerness.

By the end of the conclusion, he was crying again. What a beautiful ending. Even the credits were gorgeous and he couldn’t look away from the perfect artwork of the characters.

“So, now that you’ve seen them all! Who’s your favorite?”

Before he could answer, the front door creaked open, a thick figure stepping through. Your face went slack, the blood draining away in panic. V was instantly on alert, muscles coiled and ready to react if something went wrong. You hadn’t mentioned a roommate, but the dull resignation in your eyes didn’t speak to this person being unexpected.

It was a man, bearded and stocky. V thought he looked a bit like a dwarf, but knew better than to say so aloud. He stomped into the living room with an intense glare, taking in the scene.

“Who the fuck are you?” the man demanded, staring right at V.

You stood and approached the man, hand raised in a placating gesture. “This is V. He works with me and had never seen Lord of the Rings. We just finished watching. V, this is Caleb. My brother.”

Caleb snorted, derision in every feature. “Stupid name. Get the fuck out and don’t come back.”

“Come on, I’ll drive you back to the store,” you began, reaching for the keys. Caleb wrapped a meaty fist over your wrist before you got far.

V’s eyes narrowed in anger at the flash of pain on your face, quickly wiped away to pretend everything was fine. He missed his three familiars with every fiber of his being, wishing he could bring out Shadow to maul this asshole or at least get him off you. The fragments of their bond twitched at his thoughts, but the lines led nowhere. They were gone.

He was alone.

“Nah, he can walk,” Caleb said.

V knew there was no way he could fight the man; he was massive, a single hit would break his ribs. And who knew what would happen to you if he tried anything risky? It wasn’t worth it.

“That’s fine. Good night, Y/N.”

To say anything further risked angering the giant still gripping your forearm. He didn’t dare. Instead, he stood and gathered his things, shooting a worried glance at you as he left. He waited outside the door, listening for any hint of distress.

Nothing. All was silent.

This is wrong, this is so wrong.

But what else could he do? With only five minutes of interaction, how could he assume anything about your brother? Maybe this was unusual, maybe he was normally a kind man.

But your face when he walked in the door…

V growled in frustration. He still couldn’t hear anything from inside. There was no proof, no reason for him to intervene. And what if Caleb came out and found him still here? That could be disastrous. He had no choice but to leave. If you didn’t come to work tomorrow, he’d come back. For now, he needed to retreat.

His heart ached with every step.

_______

If you aren’t familiar, google the beacons are lit beach meme. One of my favorites!

Part 3

[raven-system]

❤👤⭐🤙🎊

❤️ - I love your blog!

Thanks! I’ll have to look at yours (or look at it again? I’m bad at names)

👤 - I’m a singlet (not a system)

That’s cool!

🎊- I want to hear more about your headmates

Hmmm. Well, there’s a lot of us so I’ll just list the active folks at the moment I guess?

Katie (me) - host (because rose went dormant) I think I’m like 15? I don’t know. Hmm well I’m the task manager mostly. I do well under stress and I don’t get too nervous.

Damean - 14 (going on 15 🎉). He’s a protector. He lovessss math with a passion and would do anything to protect his little brother Blaine. I’m pretty sure he likes cars a lot.

Blaine - 8 he’s a little as well as our gatekeeper (your guess is as good as mine on why that happened) so basically he can control who fronts, who gets what memories and when, that sort of thing he can also force people into dormancy. He usually handles pain. He’s a tough kid.

Rowan - he won’t tell us how old he is except “young by elf standards and old by yours” like talk about cryptic AF man. He never uses contractions unless he’s co or blendy with someone. He’s a protector and caretaker. He usually helps Damean the most (because Damean is the “I’m fine emotions aren’t real hahah” type of person and he only expresses that sort of stuff to people like Rowan). Oh shit they’re also dating oops don’t wanna forget that.

Esther - She formed to help with Roey who recently integrated... she and Rose are the only alts that play violin. I have no idea how old she is. She feels like she’s Jewish but since we’re a gentile system she can’t actually go up to people and be like “hey I’m Jewish” (hi Jewish, I’m Katie. Sorry couldn’t resist). She’s really nice though!

Cornflower - She instills confidence. She’s a fictive of Cornflower Fieldmouse, mostly from the tv show but probably some of the book(s)? She loves to cook. And god forbid anyone gives her caffeine...

Matthew - He is a persecutor but he’s trying to be better. He’s 16, suuuuuper Christian and mega gay. He struggles with that a lot. (Part of Justin’s subsystem).

Justin - Matt and Justin share a form in headspace. Justin likes knitting and makes lots of gay jokes. I don’t really talk to him a whole lot.

I think chaos and Jessie went dormant at some point? Feel free to ask/dm us anymore questions about the headmates! We usually tag who’s posting by the way.

🤙- I wish I could give you a hug

Aww that’s sweet!!

⭐️ - I want to hear more about your system

We’re undiagnosed. Don’t know what we have, we usually just say DID because it’s well known? Our therapist says we’re imagining it, and when the lady who evaluated us did that she said we needed to integrate... long story short we’ve decided we don’t need to get diagnosed. We know ourselves better than some stuck up NT person trying to say they know exactly what’s happening in our brain.

We formed because of mainly emotional (and sometimes physical) abuse.

The body is fourteen and female.

We’re a freshman in high school.

Also make sure to divide up work between alts. Your science teacher doesn’t need to know that the handwriting on the math homework is not the same as on science homework :)

[recentanimenews]

CR Features Argues About the Best Opening Sequence of 2018

Anime Awards voting starts TONIGHT and WE'RE SUPER EXCITED! However we have gotten so loud with our individual opinions on who we think should win that we’ve been told to duke it out via written words instead of continually disrupting our coworkers (sorry fam).

  We’ll hit each category by the time we hit the evening of Anime Awards! Today’s piece gets down to the nitty gritty of Best Opening Sequence, Best Ending Sequence, Best Animation, and Best Character Design. Let’s down to business!

Best Opening

Pop Team Epic from Pop Team Epic

    The opening so nice you saw it twice every episode, and it was a banger every time. It wasn’t just the song, either--the OP was full of little things to keep looking for, so you never skipped it unless you were a total monster.

-Nate Ming

Black Rover by Vickblanka from Black Clover

  The music for Black Clover OPs and EDs has always been top notch, but Black Rover is on another level. The sequence put together by the animators is also the perfect combination of cool, goof, and heart. It’s probably the opening I’ll associate with the series forever.

-Peter Fobian

  UNION from SSSS.Gridman

    This song, like SSSS.Gridman itself, made me so happy. It was light and deft, but somehow perfect for the opening of a show about kicking the crap out of kaiju. For a genre that can sometimes feel as tired as “robot man saves the world (and his friends),” this OP, along with the rest of the show, proved that SSSS.Gridman was going to pay a lot of tokusatsu homage, while still being a breath of fresh air.

-Daniel Dockery

Rightfully by Mili from Goblin Slayer

    I’ve been following Mili’s works since I played Deemo, and their songs always have a way of worming right in and refusing to leave. So when I heard that they were doing Goblin Slayer’s opening, it was a very welcome surprise! Mili delivers a powerful performance that has a calm, yet a very vicious tone to it. Combined with the opening visuals, it really ties it all neatly together to set the mood for the show.

-Nicole Mejias

Adabana Necromancy from ZOMBIE LAND SAGA

    Dapper dancing zombies. Super sentai action scenes. Idol dancing. ZOMBIE LAND SAGA’s opening sequence somehow manages to straddle several disparate genres without losing its own unified personality. Set to the theatrical “Adabana Necromancy” performed by the main Japanese cast, main character Sakura’s defiant proclamations of chasing her dreams and the truly unprecedented amount of explosions meld into something strange and charming--a perfect fit for this series.

-Cayla Coats

Best Ending Sequence

Hibana from Golden Kamuy

    You always heard this one warming in the background as an episode would come to a close, and the striking imagery of  “Hibana” just made me more excited for what the next episode of Golden Kamuy had in store.

-Nate Ming

  Pulse from Asobi Asobase - workshop of fun -

  Although I’ve still got Hizuru Basho bumping in my head from Fall, no ED in 2018 was as much of a thematic masterstroke as Asobi Asobase. After a misleading opening giving the series the appearance of a serene high school slice of life and a very confusing episode featuring mean-spirited pranks and Hanako shrieking, the ending dumps you straight into hell.

-Peter Fobian

  Book-end, Happy-end from Skull-face Bookseller Honda-san

    I feel ya, nervous skeleton man. You had a hard day, and then you just go sit on the floor and read manga. And then you lay in the bed and read manga. What a beautiful life.

-Daniel Dockery

Hibana from Golden Kamuy

    Banger alert! This song is incredibly GOOD! Not only is this song catchy, but the lyrics are a pretty good representation to what Golden Kamuy is all about, with lines about an “erased destination” and “accepting everything, pain and all.” If you skipped this ending, I don’t even know what to say; it’s too good of a song to skip!

-Nicole Mejias

Pulse from Asobi Asobase - workshop of fun -

  Peter pretty much nailed it. After the fake-out cutesy pop opening, Asobi Asobase presents us with three middle school girls who make heinously ugly expressions and are just really, hilariously terrible people. The death metal anthem “Pulse” is a perfect fit for the horrible little nightmare children that comprise the show’s main cast.

-Cayla Coats

Best Animation

Violet Evergarden

  You don’t really expect TV anime to look this good--and then it does, and you’re treated to gorgeous, theatrical-quality animation every single episode. I wasn’t invested in Violet Evergarden, but just witnessing it made it worth the watch.

-Nate Ming

Violet Evergarden

    This one is really difficult to argue with. It’s Kyoto Animation on their absolute A game. The studio doesn’t often delve into fantasy but their backgrounds and character designs were breathtaking. Kyoto is always top shelf but they maintained damn near movie quality animation for the entire series run. Even their 3D integration was something to behold.

-Peter Fobian

Violet Evergarden

  LOOK AT HOW PRETTY EVERYTHING IS. Look at the backgrounds! And the shadows! And the way that the hair is animated! I know that that seems like a really small thing, but it irks me sometimes when everyone seem to have immovable Super Saiyan hair (though there’s nothing wrong with your hair, my beautiful shonen bro’s). Violet Evergarden was a bounty to look at.

-Daniel Dockery

Violet Evergarden

    I’d be crazy to not pick Violet Evergarden for this category. I mean, just LOOK AT IT! Absolutely GORGEOUS and BEAUTIFUL animation! I initially thought this was a movie, but nope. Kyoto Animation weren’t playing any games when it came to showing off their amazing animation skills, and my goodness, was it ever a sight to behold! Just look at how they animated the characters’ HAIR! Amazing stuff!

-Nicole Mejias

  Pop Team Epic

If you asked me two weeks ago, my answer here would have been Violet Evergarden for sure. But then my mind was changed when I saw our own Noelle Ogawa argue for Pop Team Epic’s stellar animation in this article. Pop Team Epic employs a wide range of animation styles--from 16-bit video game sprites to the horrifying, MS Paint-esque Bob Team Epic sequences to the use of unfinished storyboards seen above. The series is practically a showcase for experimental animation, and that suits the surreal humor quite well.

-Cayla Coats

    Best Character Design

  Devilman Crybaby

  Akira Fudo and Ryo Asuka are some of the most iconic, memorable, and legendary characters in anime and manga, so seeing them (along with Miki, Siren, and the rest of the cast) get clean, modern redesigns for Devilman Crybaby was a real treat.

-Nate Ming

DARLING in the FRANXX

Just based no sheer amount of fan art, it’s hard to argue with this prediction. Masayoshi Tanaka has developed a well-earned reputation for his designs, in fact one of Atsushi Nishigori’s motivations for working with TRIGGER was the opportunity to work specifically with Tanaka. The character designs are great and so much work from accompanying DARLING in the FRANXX designs to multiple uniforms went into it. It’s probably my favorite part of the series.

-Peter Fobian

Hinomaru Sumo

There’s not a lot of amazingly intricate variety among the characters of Hinomaru Sumo. But I appreciate any anime where all the main characters look like they’d be equally at home being lackeys in a separate anime that get the crap kicked out of them in an alley by the Kenshiro-esque main character. Also, I love this show and so should you.

-Daniel Dockery

Cells at Work

Cells at Work is so beloved for the way it illustrates our hard-working cells as they work night and day to protect our bodies. Keep on kicking ass and taking names, cells! But on the other end of the spectrum are the threats and bacteria that invade our bodies, and some of them are depicted in very frightening ways. Remember to take care of yourself to avoid illnesses! Your cells are counting on you!

-Nicole Mejias

Laid-Back Camp

  There wasn’t a show I watched in 2018 that had more effective character designs than Laid-Back Camp. Everything visual choice made about these characters conveys something about their personality. Nadeshiko’s downward-sloping eyelids and messy pink hair are the perfect compliment to Rin’s alert eyes and neatly tied up hair. These choices echo how the characters themselves play off of one another, and gosh, it’s just delightful.

-Cayla Coats

    Anddd that's all folks! Check back in to see us argue about who else we think should win the rest of the Anime Awards categories. Don’t forget to vote for your favorites starting TONIGHT!

  Do you have a super intense devotion to a 2018 show or character or want your opinions shared to the world about Anime Awards? Send us an op-ed in written or video form. The nitty gritty details are in here and you may get published in a future article!

Who do you think should win: Best Opening Sequence, Best Ending Sequence, Best Animation, and Best Character Design? Tell us in the comments below!

Ricky Soberano is a Features Editor, Script Writer, and Editorial Programming Coordinator for Crunchyroll. She’s the former Managing Editor of Brooklyn Magazine. You can follow her on Twitter @ramenslayricky.

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com