#the cats in the gorge do literally Anything and hes like

[throughdarkeningskies]

started reading AVOS and like. I thought alderpaw was sweet little cinnamon roll baby why is he so Cat Racist

[monakisu]

i'm very sorry to bother you, but since i didn't get a chance before it was shoved in the dusty storage closet, i just wanna say that the cat & the crow is such a PHENOMENAL fic. i was literally so emotional over baby akira the entire time i was reading it. his loneliness is so acute and it is SOUL-WRENCHING. you characterize both him and goro so well. your prose just makes it too omg. it switches so well from a jovial, childhood summer to a scene that makes me sob. it's so so good. goro too is such a little shit in that i need to knit him a sweater right now. anyways yeah that's all i wanted to say gl with whatever project you're currently working on!!!

wow this is great thanks. my current project is: chapter 4.

i remember seeing this notification and smiling widely to myself but right now im feeling like a dust mite so im not very verbose HOWEVER as thanks i'll just show you a section of ch.4 i've more or less completed. i would never do this normally but i like your message a lot so know that you are Sublimely Special. enjoy!

Goro had personally shown up at Akira's doorstep twice now, but not once had he stepped foot inside. This was a tragedy, a travesty, and a tremendous oversight on Akira's part. What a horrible host he'd been! His guest would come all this way and Akira would make him loiter at the welcome mat as he held open the door just wide enough to show off the inside of his house, but not so wide to let anybody actually enter. It was like setting up a candy shop during a famine and catering only to the roly-poly rich who had more than enough to gorge themselves on, while the hungry could only paw forlornly at the window displays. 

It was, in short, terrible, taunting torture. 

The second Goro stepped gingerly into the clearing, prim and pretty, Akira flashed up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders—firmly, the way one stopped a bull by the horns.

"My house today," Akira ordained lowly.

Goro's eyes blew wide open. His shoulders locked up tighter than a maximum security vault. His mouth worked wordlessly for a few seconds. "O—Okay?"

It would be interesting to see how Goro contrasted with the interior decor. This was a completely normal thought. 

"Is there anything we need to specifically do at your house?" Goro asked cautiously. 

Akira pondered this, then decided that a normal thought ought to work well as a normal response. "I need to see how you contrast with the interior decor."

Once again, Goro went wordless. 

His silence persisted all throughout the trek to Akira's house. It wasn't a terribly long trek; they needed only to stick to a straight path. The forest that housed their clearing belonged to an elevated hillside, as did Akira's cul-de-sac. The further up one ventured in the hills, the bigger and farther spaced apart the houses became. Community was most prominently condensed in the heart of Inaba, down below with Junes, the mom-and-pop shops, and cozy neighborhoods, where people couldn't go two steps without running into a familiar face. This community fractured into thin spiderweb strands high up in the hills, where residents veered more on the stand-offish, reclusive end of the spectrum, loosely linked by gossamer silk that could break off at any sudden movement. Once one made it high enough that the hills became mountains, however, community came to a full stop. Nobody lived there, save for the rare few crazy people. The crazies fell into two categories: those who had gone crazy from the isolation, or those who were simply crazy for nature. 

Those sickos went on hikes... for fun. 

Here on the hills, wide expanses of land could go empty for a great many steps before someone's backyard began. Once out of the forest, there was minimal shade to hide Akira and Goro from the relentless sun, motivating them to quicken their pace. Some land developer decades ago had chopped down a good chunk of the forest to make room for houses. Compared to the odyssey it took to get to Junes, they reached Akira's house in no time. 

The uncharacteristic absence of complaints following behind Akira unsettled him. A chatty birdy was a healthy birdy. A quiet birdy was a... concern. 

Like a candlestick succumbing to a flame, Akira's confidence had melted steadily with each silence-laden step towards his house. By the time they were standing at his doorstep, he had grown quite clammy. 

"Ummm... this is my house." Which Goro already knew. "You know this." 

Goro finally broke his silence. "Yes, I do?" 

Hearing his voice, Akira's candlestick confidence quickly rebuilt itself, invigorating him enough to chance a glance at Goro's face. Instead of the scary blankness he'd been dreading, Goro just looked a little confused. His eyebrows were furrowed and his stare was one full of studious intent, as though Akira had presented him a new, never-before-seen puzzle to solve by the end of the day. 

"Is there a reason you've dragged me here? A real one. Other than to compare me to the interior. By the way, cat, that's an extremely odd thing to say. Be more self-aware, why don't you?"

Aw, beans. Not normal at all.

"Well?" Goro crossed his arms. "Are we going in or wasting the day on your welcome mat?"

Akira looked down at his shoes, where they stood on nothing but stone.

"Figuratively speaking," clarified Goro. 

Akira supposed it was high time to get a move on things. "I don't lock the door—"

"You really should."

"—but the key's usually behind the water fairy." He was referring to the never-once worked fountain statue of a pretty lady carved from stone, cradling a big blossom from which water was presumably meant to sprout. If there was a hidden button to activate the fountain mechanism, then it remained lost to all the residents of the house. 

"Seriously? The first time you're inviting me into your home, and you're immediately granting me the power to swing in anytime I want? Why is this the first thing you tell me about your house?"

Goro sounded awfully judgmental for what was supposed to be a nice gesture. In a brilliant feat of rational thinking, Akira reasoned, "It's fine if it's Goro."

"And only me, alright?" stressed Goro, voice dragged down low by ominous implications. "Never extend this right to anybody else. You recall that chain of murders two years ago. Who knows what they'd do with this sort of power. Sneak into your house and slash your throat while you sleep? That's the likeliest possibility. A preventable possibility. Not even the worst thing that could happen. There are fates far more savage than a quick death. It's a foolish thing to do: handing your death wish to any random stranger who happens to look your way, then pointing them to the welcome mat. Don't tell anybody else about this key, Akira. It's enough for me to know. Got it?"

That was a huge PSA prompted by one little key. Akira patiently humored him, "Got it, Goro. Only you."

Goro seemed to like how that sounded, because his sternness was stolen away by a twitch to the corner of his mouth, which then grew and grew into a big, proud, peachy-pleased smile. "Don't you forget that, cat."

The door swung open with its customary creaaak. Akira had organized the shoes populating the mudroom in advance in jittery anticipation of Goro's visit. It was a plum thing that he'd done so; his mother's last visit seemed to require digging out every pair of shoes in her possession from the shelves and cabinets and closets, and then another requirement had been to flood the floor with mismatched shoes and gutted boxes, and then the last requirement had been to leave promptly. It only just now occurred to Akira that he'd have been awfully ashamed to show Goro something so sloppy. 

"It's nice to see more of your house beyond a tiny crack when you open your door," Goro said, but where his voice would usually be brimming with bite and energy, it sounded off. Shoes still on, he stood listlessly by the entrance. 

Akira took out a pair of newly purchased slippers and set it in front of Goro. Each slipper had its own smiling frog face protruding from the top, big and bulbous. Akira had seen them at Junes, thought them charming, and bought them promptly. While Goro stared incomprehensibly at the slippers, Akira swapped his sandals for his own pair. 

"These are house slippers," Akira informed him, when Goro still had yet to make a move. The frogs seemed to be offending his eyes. "You can wear them if you want." It hardly mattered if he didn't; Akira had recently swept the floors, so there was no dust to kick up. He had to rely on brooms and mops instead of their handier relative, the vacuum cleaner, since it was too bulky for him to maneuver just yet. 

After a few more nudges, Goro stiffly, stiltedly swapped his loafers for slippers, then had to be lured out of the mudroom with encouraging words like a spooked horse. 

Akira's birdy started the house tour with immense, palpable discomfort. Disappointingly, he and the interior didn't seem to be meshing very well. He took small steps, feet feather-light, as though reluctant to even touch the floor through the pads of his slippers. Did he hate the floorboards so sorely? Maybe he thought they were dirty? Hoping to put his worries at ease, Akira assured him that he'd swept it two days ago. He could sweep it again, right now, should Goro wish for it. 

"Wishing is for losers!" Goro snapped with unforeseen fury.

W-Wow. Okay.

Thankfully, expressing his anger in a new environment was enough of a foot in the door for him to finally relax. He began taking big, stomping strides forward, slippers slapping the floor, as though to physically distance himself from his unease. Akira hurried after him. 

By the time he caught up, Goro had made it to the living room. He was frowning at the admittedly excessive number of lamps littering the space. It was as though every lamp in the rest of the house had been squirreled away into this single room—a lamp monopoly. That was Akira's doing. Recently, he'd discovered a fondness for lamps from the lighting section in the furniture store. After spending all day under the sun, returning to a dark and dreary house had been rather jarring. The lamps had been his choice of remedy. There were actually more lamps than there were electrical outlets. 

Across the hallway, separated by big, rectangular columns that rose up into ceiling-high arches, were the sitting rooms. The Red Room waited insidiously in the corner of his eye. Akira had drawn open the thick, velveteen curtains of every window in the house early this morning, to allow sunlight to stream into what was usually a gloomy interior. In addition to Goro's natural influence, the whole house seemed that much brighter. 

"Oh, it's your monster under the bed." Goro was referring to the little cat plushie slumped over on the couch. That's... one way of putting it. "There was also one on your shoe stand. Don't tell me your whole house is populated with these things."

"Alright," agreed Akira. "I won't tell you." And then he pointed at a lamp. "This is a lamp." He felt like he was doing a pretty dandy job of this tour guide thing.

Goro glowered at him sourly, then resolutely looked at anything but the lamp. In doing so, something else caught his hateful eye. "Hey, is that your landline?" He seemed to doubt the validity of this landline, because he went over specifically to the little side table by the couch so he could pick up the phone, listen to the dull beeeeep of the dial tone, and set it back down. "Fantastic. I'll make a note of this."

If Akira could, he'd have a giant question mark bobbing above his head. 

"Your couch takes up too much space," was the next item on Goro's list to gripe about. Actually, Akira had yet to figure out if that phone tangent qualified as a gripe or not. Goro had been shockingly cordial with it. 

Akira settled on a shrug. "There's a lot of space... to take up."

"That's regrettably true. You know what?" Here came the follow-up item on Goro's list of gripes: "Your house takes up too much space."

Akira had nothing to say to that. 

"What's that thing?" Goro pointed an accusing finger at a big, table-like object cloaked in an embroidered tapestry, tucked away in a corner of the living room. It seemed he had found his next target to tear into. 

"That's the piano. Nobody uses it." Akira corrected himself, "Nobody has used it." 

For as long as he'd been alive, he'd never once witnessed its use. It might have been a gift, once upon a time. His mother liked to brag about the various sumptuous offerings the "background characters" had lavished her with, on the most important, most momentous, most mostest day in history: her wedding. This was in conjunction to bragging about her wedding in general. She was a woman who thrived exclusively on the memory of a single day.

Once a reflective obsidian sleeker than silk, the grand piano had now faded away into a mundane fixture of the house—another piece of decor against which to prop more decor. Oftentimes, Akira struggled to recognize it as a piano and not as a uniquely shaped table. 

Goro was prompt in concocting a condemnation for it. "What a waste. Sitting there and rotting away. The keys have probably collected so much dust, mold, and dirt that they're more biohazards than instruments. You've never even bothered practicing?"

"Practicing? For what?"

"Practicing playing the piano, Akira."

"Oh." Akira nodded. That made sense. "No. I don't know how."

"Then why is it still here?" agonized Goro. "Why don't you just—sell it off already?"

Akira wrinkled his nose. Selling required socializing. "That sounds like a lot of work." And the piano wasn't hurting anybody. It seemed to have adjusted well to its new life as a table. 

"Hopeless," was Goro's concocted condemnation for him, personally. 

"Would Goro like to try?" Pause. "Practicing?" Pause. "Playing the piano?" No more pauses. 

Goro grumbled, "You don't have to clarify what you mean so thoroughly. I'm not you." Objectively true. "And, no. What if I'm not immediately good at it? What if I fail from the get-go? I'd never live it down."

 Akira suggested more than said, "Nobody's immediately good at anything...? I don't think..."

"I am," declared Goro with unshakable certainty. 

Someone was missing the obvious here. "But you don't try things."

"I try the things I know I'm good at."

"But how do you know you're good at them if you've never tried them before?"

"Let's move on, Akira," Goro concluded abruptly. 

They moved on.

"Why do rich people insist on depriving their homes of every conceivable color besides white?" Goro's complaints were ceaseless. "They're so obsessed with mimicking mental institutions. All this money, but they still can't buy taste!" He did finally cease, however, when they walked past the Red Room. "T...That's... new."

"If you like perfume or blood, go in there." Akira pointed helpfully. With the way Goro was staring at him, as disturbed as a cow in a meat-packing factory, Akira wagered that he probably didn't enjoy either option very much. "That room's got a lot."

Goro's disturbed cow stare was growing more complex. "Of... blood?" 

Akira had learned the hard way of how ineffectual wet paper towels were when pitted against blood-stained Persian carpets. The same for vacuum cleaners. And hand soap. And dish soap. "Yeah."

"Oh." Goro didn't sound too happy. "Hey, look, there's your kitchen, cat."

"This is my kitchen," agreed Akira. 

Goro examined his surroundings with the critical eye of a health inspector, gaze panning from one end of the room where the fridge sat humming and wearing its winter coat of papers, magnets, stickers, and glue, then panning all the way to the other end, where the length of the black marble island came to a sleek stop and the circular breakfast table (rarely used) came to a circular beginning. The vase of sunflowers, having been moved from the middle of the hallway to the middle of the breakfast table, was slightly wilted and missing some of its petals, but its striking yellowness meant it especially stood out from its black and white environment. Goro lingered on it for a prolonged second, a faint smile ghosting his frown, before he swept over the rest of the kitchen once more. "How excessive." 

Nothing could satisfy his eye, it seemed. 

The second thing Goro said upon entering the kitchen was, "Why is there another cat on the windowsill?" 

"We need eggs for omelettes," announced Akira abruptly. He'd realized partway through the house tour that he'd really, really like to cook something for Goro. 

"Now that I think about it, you really do have those things scattered everywhere. Hoarder much?"

"Eggs."

Side-eyeing him, Goro huffed, "I'm hardly your maid," but went to retrieve the eggs from the fridge, which—Okay. Hadn't been Akira's intention in the first place, but was still awfully nice of him anyhow. Goro was ever-so thoughtful. 

His thoughtfulness extended to his need to narrate his thoughts regarding the state of Akira's fridge. According to those thoughts, it was not a very good state. "Why's this great big casket so empty?! Tsk, what a waste! And what is that? It looks like it used to be a tomato, but now it's growing itself an empire of mold. Disgusting!"

"The tomato lives there," Akira tried to explain, but, in truth, failed to achieve much of an explanation at all. "Ummm. Residency."

The fridge door was closed with a shuttering, shivering SLAM! that had it shedding some of its winter coat. Magnets clattered to the floor in one go. 

"Was that on purpose," asked Akira mildly. 

Goro didn't deem him with an actual answer. "You need to purge that thing." I'm not going to do that. "Here. Your stupid eggs." Whoa. Egg hatred. 

Akira thanked Goro genuinely and generously, because Goro was acting as though the egg retrieval had been some terribly taxing task that he'd nearly broken his back bending backwards and over completing, and thank you's ought to match the severity of the injuries incurred along the way. "Birdy's the best."

"That's right, cat," Goro preened, before he practically slammed the egg carton onto the countertop, the same way one might slam a plank of wood into someone's skull. The egg hatred went to the extremes, it seemed. 

Akira stopped this hate crime at the last second, shooting his hands out to cradle the carton from its tabletop torment. "Thank you so much," he stressed.

Goro frowned. "If you want the eggs so badly, just ask for them." He handed them over with considerably greater care, in a manner that conveyed his earnest belief that Akira was more fragile than an egg. If only he'd been that gentle when he'd been slapping cartons onto counters. "Also, why are we suddenly making omelettes?"

"Aren't you hungry?" 

A careless shrug. "I usually am. So what? It's nothing new."

How horrible! "Omelettes and onigiri," decided Akira.

Goro was astounded. "Stop adding more food?!"

Akira hadn't been nearly as thoughtful as Goro, and so had neglected to tell him to retrieve the rest of the ingredients with the eggs. As this was entirely his fault, Akira brought back the leftover rice from yesterday, a square frying pan, a spatula, and the seasonings by himself. 

Goro didn't like that. "Hey!" 

"What's wrong, Goro?"

"Why'd you bring back ten times as many items as me? That's a fundamental injustice!"

"You can hold them if you want." Akira shoved bottles of soy sauce and sesame oil into Goro's hands. Hopefully, these would keep him and his sense of justice occupied. 

Goro immediately went to complain, "This is a thankless task." But the complaints ended there, so he couldn't be that mad about it. 

"Thank you," Akira added, just to be sure.

Growling, Goro creaked his hostages rather dangerously. Akira didn't know bottles could creak like that. 

O-Okay, back to cooking. Akira announced hurriedly, "Let's prepare the eggs."

Goro halted his creaking to squint down at the eggs. "What do you do with them? They're eggs, so you crack them, don't you?"

Cracking eggs took serious skill. "Do you know how to crack an egg?" Goro was Goro, so of course he knew how to do something as skilled as this, right?

"Of course I know how to do something as simple as that!" Right!

Delighted by Goro's Goro-ness (this was a common occurrence), Akira accidentally let loose an enthralled, "Really?"

It was taken the wrong way. "Yes," Goro hissed, steaming-hot with offense. And then, dropping his hostages, he ripped an egg out of the carton, reeled his arm back, and smashed it onto the counter.

Akira watched it splatter in the most spectacular, most gruesome manner he'd ever seen an innocent egg be massacred.

...Maybe Goro doesn't know how to crack an egg. 

Goro took notice of Akira's stare and bristled, all pent-up rage and porcupine-y. "It's cracked now, isn't it?" 

"It... sure is," was what Akira eventually settled on. Because it really was cracked now—cracked all over the counter and all over the floor, with bits and bobs sticking to the wall, too. The blast radius was truly admirable, all things considered. He might have admired it a touch more had it been localized in a mixing bowl, where eggs were meant to be cracked—not exploded, simply cracked—and yolk was to be mixed—not exploded, either. 

And what else had cracked? The bottle of soy sauce. Goro was a wonder. 

"What other ingredients do I have to conquer?" Goro asked darkly, and then Akira was hastily re-introducing him to the wondrous safety of rice.

As it turned out, not even rice could curb Goro's bloodlust. 

It became obvious at a very quick, very destructive rate that, for all the years she'd been alive, Goro's mother must have been actively barring him from the kitchen and handing him only the easiest, least explosive foods to manhandle. Because Goro and cooking were clearly two intrinsically incompatible forces of nature. 

"What are you nattering about?" scorned Goro, voice curved high from instinctual defense on his mother's behalf. "Of course I was allowed into the kitchen. We didn't have the luxury of sectioning the kitchen into its own massive ballroom, you know. We ate in there." Having defended her memory an adequate amount, his voice calmed down to its usual melody. "But my mother did never allow me near the stove, or any ingredients, if that's what you mean. She also stopped letting me touch knives near the end, for some reason."

Clearly, Goro's mother had been a sublimely smart woman. 

"She wouldn't even let me wash the dishes." If Goro had been treating those poor dishes the same way he'd treated the fridge and the eggs, then Akira could certainly see why. 

Goro slapped the onigiri he'd been shaping (more like: compacting into the world's most condensed ball of matter) onto the table. Not a plate, nor a cutting board, but the table. Thank goodness Akira had already wiped down every surface in the house that morning. Akira silently relocated it to a plate. "Now, cat, let me have another go at those eggs." 

After three eggs ended up splattered on the wall and the butter stuck to the ceiling, Akira sent Goro off to the living room to watch some commercials and maybe calm down. 

"NO!" Goro snarled, covered in yellow yolk and looking more than a little feral. "I can do this! I can—pulverize some eggs!" 

"How about you pulverize... some... television," Akira suggested gently, then tried to tidy Goro's face with a towel and immediately gave up after three of his fingers were nearly bitten clean off. 

It was a wonder how caustically, catastrophically cataclysmic Goro was when it came to cooking. Akira was suitably impressed—and doubly fearful of what he might have done had the stove been on.

Without Goro afflicting his idea of "help" onto the ingredients, Akira wrapped up the dishes with refreshing ease. Thanks to Goro, he could now appreciate what he'd been taking for granted before: the ability to cook unimpeded by threats of bodily harm and property destruction. Goro exerted a certain revolutionary effect on perspectives. He could make Akira thankful for even the most itty-bitty details of his life. 

Akira surveyed the damage done to the kitchen. A teeny-tiny sigh escaped him. It looked like another wipe-down was in order. 

At the very least, he tried to reassure himself, it's not as bad as letting loose a stampede of wild hogs into the house. This was a very average and comforting philosophy that had him cheering up in an instant. Thank goodness Goro was less destructive than a hog stampede—if only by a little bit. Yet another detail to be thankful for. 

Following the distant rabble of pew-pew!s and sha-shing!s, Akira found Goro sulkily holed up in the living room, in front of the blitzing, blaring television. He was cleaned of yolk, slightly damp, and in the process of making a soggy, Goro-shaped imprint on the leather couch. A stray plushie was half-buried in the cushions of the couch next to him. This was, in every way, better than a hog stampede. It looked like he'd just emerged from the downstairs bathroom, which Akira recalled had a layout of dizzying red tiles that covered the walls and floors and also had zero windows. He hoped Goro had enjoyed that visual experience.

On the television, masked heroes flew across the screen. They wore all the colors of the rainbow, tip-topped with golden, feathery frou-frou. It made perfect sense; naturally, Akira's birdy liked to watch his fellow birds. 

Akira came to a silent stop behind Goro's watery seat. "Would birdy like to eat at the breakfast table or the dinner table?"

Goro whipped his head around. Water droplets ricocheted like bullets. "YOU HAVE TWO TABLES?!"

Akira hesitated, unsure of what he'd done to set Goro off this time. "We don't have to eat at a table?"

It took a while, but Goro did, at least, with equal parts grand mulishness and grander reluctance, concede, "...The dinner table."

"'kay!" A happy clap! rang in the air. Having sufficiently expressed his joy, Akira peered around Goro at the television. "Oh, I like that show, too. Featherm—"

Goro's finger practically speared itself clean through the remote out of bloodthirsty vigor. That poor power button never stood a chance. The television blinked black. Akira had half-expected some of the remote's abuse to travel to the television, perhaps short-circuiting it with an electric zap! and reducing its screen to screaming neon color bars. Miraculously, everything remained relatively intact. 

"Is your finger okay?" Akira cradled Goro's hand as though it might clatter apart at any moment. 

"Irrelevant." Regardless of that ruthless remark, Goro allowed Akira to lightly blow on his finger. Hoo! "And I wasn't watching what you thought I was watching. That was simply a... commercial. Those trifling wastes of time. I've got no power over what cable throws at me. Before the commercial, I'd been watching a crime show. About investigating crime. With detectives and legalities."

"And crime?" Akira absentmindedly patted Goro's hand. The pat-pat's lent it structural strength. 

Goro pointed his nose high up in the air. "Yes. The crime is critical." Akira hummed. "Since it was a crime show," Goro apparently thought this was necessary to expound, "as you know." 

"As I know," nodded Akira, then tugged him up by the hand (although, it was really more like Akira had lightly suggested getting up with an even lighter tug, and Goro had been gracious enough to comply). "Let's get our omelettes, birdy."

Goro's noise remained sky-high 'til it was time to settle into their respective seats, after which he finally deigned to look down. Before him waited two plates, one for each of them. On each plate lay a fluffy omelette—tamagoyaki—rolled up and sliced into plump pieces, and a triangular ball of rice grilled and sauced to a golden crisp. A warm, savory aroma wafted through the air. Akira had foregone any filling for the yaki-onigiri, for two reasons: 1) despite his fondness for experimenting with the cookbook, he didn't have the ingredients on hand, because hoarding ingredients that would sooner or later spoil with nobody to eat them was a wasteful thing to do, and 2) he worried it'd be too much to eat in conjunction to the omelettes. There was a separate plate of more yaki-onigiri in the middle of the table, since it would have been a shame to let the leftover rice go unused. It was leagues more food than the amount Akira would make for himself, but leagues less than what a nuclear family on television would chow down on. 

His recipe book had featured these two dishes in separate sections, but since both required a pan, Akira had figured he could combine them into one meal with minimal difficulty. Using his square pan, he'd rolled the omelettes into fluffy prisms first, sprinkled them with salt, then sizzled the seasoned onigiri second. The recipe book had advertised the eggs as such: "These eggs will be wondrously savory and so soft that you'll barely need to bite down before they're splitting apart in your mouth!" 

"These onigiri... You only had to mash the rice together with the seasonings before you grilled them, didn't you?" Just from listening to Goro's tone, anybody could tell that he was feeling slighted. "With a spoon or something. It wouldn't even have required an open flame at that stage. Just mashing."

This was true. "Birdy's right."

"I could've done something as tedious as destroying grains for you, but you simply had to kick me out of the kitchen." Goro looked remarkably royal sitting in his seat, with the carved mahogany backing of the chair framing his head just so, the way the best oil paintings had the fanciest frames. He didn't look out of place at all. Akira always felt a little awkward sitting in these chairs. They dwarfed him miserably. Goro, on the other hand—oh, wait. Goro was still saying something. "Mashing's not a feat of rocket science."

This was also true. "Birdy's right again. I should've thought of that." Akira didn't sound very sorry when he said, "Sorry."

"What're you always apologizing for?" Rather than wait another tedious ten seconds for a one-word reply, Goro answered himself with a sigh. "As long as you learn from this and take it into account in the future, it's fine. Besides, I don't like sitting around while you do everything. It's unequal. You hate that, don't you? Inequivalent exchange?"

"Inequality?" parroted Akira. It had historically led to a great deal of bad things. "Sure. Hate it."

Goro puffed himself up proudly. "I'm never not right."

Akira nodded. "Birdy's right about that, too."

"See?" Puffed to the max. "When things work themselves out so effortlessly like this, you know that's how they're meant to be."

Meant to be... Akira rolled the idea around in his head, feeling it run along the grooves of his brain, its glassy surface as smooth as water, and felt it roll to a stop in a perfect marble-shaped nook. Clink. A thought occurred to him. It was a good one. Proud to have arrived at this thought but not nearly so puffy about pride as Goro had been, he voiced it aloud, "Like us."

"What?" Goro looked startled. He thought about it some more, then looked even more startled. Stupefied, really. "What?"

"Omelettes," Akira instructed him. 

"Alright, alright!" Goro looked at him witheringly. Withering look turned apprehensive, Goro picked up a fluffy omelette slice between two delicate chopsticks, inexplicably held it there for half a minute, and took what could be an insultingly small bite of his already small piece if Akira chose to feel insulted. He chewed, looking deeply pensive, then lit up with astonishment. "Oh! It's edible."

Edible.

Akira supposed expecting anything more than barebones acknowledgment from Goro was a pipe dream. The aggressive sushi acknowledgment had been more than enough to last a lifetime. Besides, this was high praise compared to the usual dialogue his cooking would win from his mother. "What is all this green rot for? I don't want this. I want that. No, I'd like this instead. No, no, back to that. It's got a peculiar odor. Why is this so small? This is far too big. Also, I'm on a diet right now. I'm not eating."

Akira couldn't be more pleased than if Goro had actually liked his food.

"I... I do actually like your food," confessed Goro in a quiet mutter, before he grew louder. "It's better than watery gruel, at least. A step above fertilizer. It's not going to land you a Michelin star any time soon, but you're getting there. Your progress is too slow. Can't you speed up? This needs more seasoning."

"You think I could earn a Michelin star?" asked Akira in his own version of a quiet mutter, except his mutter wasn't deliberate but a default setting for him. Awe colored his voice. Wings fluttered in his chest. He felt almost airborne. 

Goro harrumphed, nose in the air. "Think what you want, cotton brains."

"But this is about what you think, birdy."

"Oh, so you're stuffing ideas into my head now, are you? Thinking my own thoughts for me, hmm? How presumptuous of you. How right you are. I did need the help, thinking for myself. It was getting troublesome. Being mindless—isn't that better? You would know, darling cat. You truly are too generous, too philanthropic—" And off he went, stomping down that long, winding, and well-worn trail that the rickety sign, shaped as an arrow, decreed to be "Deflecting." 

Moving past all that deflecting, it became clear: Goro liked his cooking. This was new. This was big. Nobody had ever liked Akira's cooking before. In fact, up 'til now, he'd been staunchly convinced that his cooking was horrible. Subpar at best. But if Goro liked something, then that meant it was top-of-the-line. Goro only liked the best of the best. 

The best must have extended to the yaki-onigiri, because Goro had stabbed his chopsticks into one and was aggressively chomping a bite out of it. So, it's not only the omelettes... The onigiri, too? 

He liked them both!

Akira felt so happy, so flighty, that he had no idea what to do with himself. Left with little else to do and far too much energy to spare, he hopped down from his seat, bounced over to Goro, and flung his arms around him. It was extraordinarily warm. Sunny rays after a rainshower. Hot chocolate on a winter's day. He murmured into soft hair, "Goro. Thank you, really."

Goro immediately began choking to death. 

Frightened, Akira tripped backwards into the fireplace. "Goro?!" 

A cloud of soot exploded into the air. Eggs on the wall, eggs on Goro, and now soot all over the place. What a great, big mess. 

It seemed a third wipe-down was in order. The stampede of wild hogs was beginning to look better and better by the second. 

•••

By some miracle, the omelettes and onigiri had been mostly spared by the uproar of soot. 

After washing up in the nearest bathroom, Akira set aside the few that had been misfortunate enough to gain a coat of soot, but as for the ones who had a light sprinkling on their edges, Goro refused to part with them. He insisted that it would be a grievous waste of precious food. Akira was at a loss. His birdy who was usually such a stickler for cleanliness was now clinging stubbornly to some sooty eggs? 

"Come now, it's hardly a big deal." Goro's voice was pitched to be pleasantly placating, in stark contrast to his actions: hunching over and caging his plate within his arms like a jealous dragon. "Just leave them be."

Helpless, Akira could only acquiesce, "Um... If birdy likes soot that much..."

"Don't imply weird things!"

Akira scratched his head. There wasn't much to imply what wasn't already screamed aloud for all to hear. He climbed back into his seat, looking down at his own egg. It was still as untouched as it was before The Soot-ening. A gentle pleasure buzzed in his chest. The last time he'd made an omelette, it had gone dissected and uneaten. This time, his omelette was being treasured so devoutly. What wasn't there to be pleased about this turn of events? 

Distantly, from beyond the breezy screen door of the patio, he could hear someone's pet musician practicing the piano, as well as the crunchy roll of a car's wheels against pavement. Wind chimes tinkled twinkly tunes. A dog was barking, as always. 

"Are you going to take a bite sometime this century?" came a drawl across from him. Goro had his chin in his hand and his eyes fixed lazily on Akira. 

"Huh?" queried Akira smartly. 

"You've been staring at that thing for—" Stare still fixed, Goro tilted his head towards the digital clock on the wall. "—two minutes, fifteen seconds, and counting. Are you some alien species that only eats with your eyes? How novel."

It'd been two minutes already? Akira looked at Goro's plate. Empty! He hopped off his chair. "Birdy! Do you want more sooty eggs?"

"Sit down!" Goro barked, jabbing a fierce finger. 

Akira sat down. 

"You're not leaving this table until you finish that." Uwagh. "And quit associating me with soot!" Ugagah. 

Akira went back to staring at his egg, only this time with heaps more misery slouching his shoulders. He poked his egg despondently. Imprisoned in his own house! What a fate. 

Goro had his brows all twisted in vexation. "Just take a bite. Is that so hard? It's not even disgusting to eat. It's quite good, actually. I don't understand you."

That's right! Akira's birdy thought his food tasted good! And—and, last time, he'd called his sushi delicious. Goro thought Akira might earn a Michelin star one day. Michelin stars were Big Deals. Any restaurant, from food carts to big buildings, would jump over the moon from the electric joy of winning a star, and then they'd plaster news of this star all over their carts and buildings, so that any passerby might learn of this star and be lured in for star-ful food. Akira had nearly forgotten this Big Deal because of Goro's near death experience in the fireplace. 

His self-esteem freshly invigorated, Akira picked up a little portion of egg and stuck it in his mouth. Akira was shocked by the presence of flavor. Usually, food was little more than bland mush to work his jaw around until he grew sore and bored of the whole charade. These omelettes had been whisked and cooked 'til they'd turned soft and fluffy; unlike tough grilled omelettes or slippery boiled eggs, biting into a roll required so little effort that the egg split in half with the ease of wind sluicing through a cloud. And it really did taste quite good—surprisingly so! A bit cold, perhaps, but that barely detracted from the taste. He even realized that he had a bit of an appetite. 

It was a resoundingly fresh revolution to his life experiences up 'til now.

"How have you survived this long?" Goro asked in genuine wonder, watching Akira delicately chew his omelette, his eyes wide from revelation and looking like he'd had his mind blown to smithereens. 

Akira ate his omelette, Goro ate one yaki-onigiri, and the rest was either stowed away in the refrigerator or packaged up into a big bento box for Goro to take back (he was not made aware of this bento box just yet). The mysterious, dense ball of matter that Goro had made was squirreled away for safekeeping. 

The ball had come out... remarkably solid. Consuming it required copious amounts of gnawing that had his jaw aching, so Akira was forced to set it aside for later. He'd also had to nibble on it in secret, because the second Goro had seen that thing he'd raised a ruckus about throwing it into the trash where it belonged, and only turning the television on to Feathermen had distracted him enough with a new ruckus to raise that allowed Akira to sneak off with his prize. Maybe this ball, larger than his hand, would grow mushier with time. Like a grape. One could only hope it might someday reach a stage of semi-edibility. 

Also squirreled away, flush against his heart, was the quiet joy of having someone finally enjoy his cooking. 

Happiness was tasty. 

•••

ITEMS GET!! Leftovers

★★★★★

Lots of leftover yaki-onigiri. Looks like you'll have to postpone your daily melonpan for a little while, huh?

•••

Come evening, Akira sent Goro off with the bento box of yaki-onigiri. He'd had Goro leave earlier than when they usually went their respective ways in the woods, lest Goro be forced to navigate the mountainside in the dark, which could be treacherous terrain to navigate without light. Tree roots and cliff sides and loose rocks abound and aplenty! More than one person had been reported missing, only to be found months later at the bottom of a sheer drop sprouting fungi. 

The persnickety subject of hugs was still on Akira's mind while he stood outside on the doorstep, the muggy evening air simultaneously soaking and steaming his skin dry and sticky, and in front of him was Goro, inspecting the bento box with squinty suspicion. Paranoia was par for the course when it came to Goro and food. His reaction to hugs, on the other hand... Had that been considered par for the course? It had proven to be hugely consequential and catastrophic. Akira sort of feared what new catastrophic consequences might be wrought with a repeat incident. 

"'kay!" Akira clapped his hands. The sudden, sharp sound seemed to sluice through what had been a lazy sunset ambience. 

It also startled Goro out of his investigation of the underside of the bento box. "What? What is it?" In retrospect, to Goro, that clap really had come out of nowhere. 

"You're going now."

"Huh? I am? I mean, I was already going to, but you don't have to boss me aro—"

"Bye-bye, birdy!" Instead of hugging Goro the way Akira really, really wanted to—because hugs were on his mind, and he wasn't able to stop thinking about how nice it'd felt—he settled for softly headbutting him the way cats did when overwhelmed with contentment. 

"Y-You—You—" This still had the alarming effect of flustering Goro to the point of stuttering and repeating words, like a skipping CD. He'd nearly dropped the bento box, which—not really the most durable thing on the planet—would have been consequential and catastrophic. At the very least, not hugely so. But it would've cracked open and wasted food, which was certainly a consequence that was catastrophic. 

Well. They had all the time in the world to work their way up to hugs, Akira supposed. 

•••

ITEMS LOSE!! Leftovers

★★★★★

Welp, nevermind. Looks like melonpan's back on the everyday menu. 

•••

It came in the quiet of the night: a shrill, shrieking RING-RING-RING-RING-RING—

"Wallop whatever that is!" Mona demanded. 

Whatever turned out to be the landline, going off the rails with a call. Standing barefoot in the dark of the living room, yearning for the slippers he'd forgotten in his haste, and illuminated solely by weak, barely-there moonlight, Akira held the phone up to his ear. He'd missed the first time, smacking the receiver into his cheek and looking around blearily for the culprit. The second time, he just about barely lined everything up nice and proper.  

What was one supposed to say in a situation like this? 

"Hello?" 

That seemed about right.

"Akira? Is that you?" Goro's lovely, honey voice crackled over the line, sounding a lot like how pop rocks felt on the tongue. 

"Goro!" Akira exclaimed. In his shock, he nearly dropped the phone he'd exerted so much effort to line up. Cue clumsy fumbling, which undoubtedly translated into a hideous racket for Goro to endure on the other end. "I can't wallop you!"

A dragonfire sigh dominated the line. "What is it with you and walloping innocents? And what was that? Did you drop the phone?"

A million questions were running through Akira's head. He picked one at random. "Birdy, you know my number?"

"It's not like it was hard to find," scoffed Goro's voice. His scoff sounded even sharper than it did in person. The phone had him sounding tinny, flinty, and jagged. "All I had to do was pull out the phone book and look up your family's number."

"Ohhh, right." Phone books did indeed exist. 

A soft silence settled over the line. Eyes having adjusted to the minimal lighting, Akira studied how his living room looked in the dark. It was fascinating how what was once so yellow and bright could now look so blue and shadowy—eerie, almost, when one looked at misleading shadows from the corners of one's eyes. He toyed with the loopty-loops of the telephone's coiled cord and shifted from foot to foot. The floorboards, previously ice-cold, had warmed up the tiniest bit. 

Goro broke the silence to complain. Of course. "You sound different."

"Probably because I just woke up," Akira said innocently and not snarkily in the slightest. "In the middle of the night." Zero snark here. "It was very sudden." Absolutely snarkless. 

"If you're trying to get to something, A-kira, just say it out loud. Subtleties are lost on you."

"I'm not getting at anything."

"It's probably the phone," Goro posited, clearly giving up on acknowledging Akira's snark, or lack thereof. "People always sound different over phones and in recordings. If you were to meet a beloved actor from television in-person, you'd be shocked at how much worse they might sound. How much worse they'd look, too. It's easy to mask oneself through technology. With phones, there's no face to be burdened by, so you can pretend to be anything and anyone. Then, even with TV, there are filters and edits, along with the natural blur of camera quality. Did you know—there was once an actress renowned as a great beauty when, in actuality, she had deep pits marring the face that brought her millions? Her husband had to engineer a special camera lens just to obscure her faults and fool the public. Isn't that troublesome? In all mediums, humans crave acknowledgement, but cower from true recognition." 

Had Goro gone through the trouble of excavating Akira's number and rousing him awake at an utterly obscene hour just to gripe about humanity again? What an... interesting upgrade to their relationship. "Wow. That's. Great."

"Are you aware that you're always in a foul mood when you've just woken up, Akira?"

"No." Akira didn't feel very foul, just very woozy. "I don't know. Goro, why're we..." How to put this... "Why are you... um..." 

"Why did I call you?" Goro saved him the toothache of fumbling his words. "I wanted to see if I could."

That sure was something. "Have you seen enough now?"

"Yes. I've determined that this is an acceptable avenue for communication. I'll call you at a better time in the future, when you're less moody."

"I'm not moody," Akira argued, a bit moodily. 

"I'm hanging up now," Goro warned. "You need the sleep, I'm sure. Don't forget—you have to exchange goodbyes to conclude a call."

"Okay, then," Akira obliged. "Bye-bye, birdy." 

Goro's voice was softer than dandelions. "Goodnight, cat."

The line fizzled out. 

Moving proved to be a mistake. The world smeared itself into a mess of shadows as Akira flailed atop numb feet. His head felt light as a pound of air one second, then heavy as a bundle of bricks the next second, leaving him wobbling around, top heavy and bobble-headed. It took a great deal of blinking and breathing for vision to return to him, then a great deal more for the phone to click back into its cradle, instead of clanking onto the table or the floor. After carefully reviewing his situation, Akira elected to spend the night on the couch. Even though it was cold and leathery, it was a familiar bed. Many nights had been spent snoozing in a half-asleep state on slowly warming leather, the curtains pulled back to frame the moon in whatever state of dress it had chosen for that date. 

Besides, Mona was here, too. 

"What did your rival want?" Mona's curious eyes reflected silvery glints of moonlight. 

The leather couch creaked and squeaked with every movement Akira made as he curled up comfortably by his friend's side. "Nothing, really."

[lanaxoxoxoxoxox]

Hello Lana! Could I get a matchup?

I have long dirty blonde/light brown hair, big dark blue/grey eyes, I'm about 5'4, maybe a bit taller (not more than 5'5 though) and I'm bisexual - so you can go wild ;)

I'd say I'm an introvert, but once I'm outside I become an extrovert - with the right people of course, I'm a people pleaser

I play piano, bass, ukulele and guitar (I'm learning bass, ukulele and guitar myself (self taught!!), so I'm not the best at it.. but I have been learning piano in a music school for 7 years now), I LOVE music - cannot do daily tasks without headphones (whish is slightly concerning)

I like drawing, I LOVE rain and storms, my humour is dark and sarcastic, I like autumn, I don't have a favourite color - maybe blue, yellow, red, or green; it honestly depends on the day, i do have a favourite flower! it's the cornflower - the dark blue one in minecraft :')..

I tend to overthink a lot, english is not my first language, so I have a weird accent and grammar mistakes are very common, Im European 💪

Thank you, ily! I have read over this so many times to make sure there are no mistakes (hope I haven't missed any - that would be embarassing)

Also could I be ⭐ anon? (I'm a star >:D)

hello love !! yes ofc, you can have a matchup ♡

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

i would match you with wilbur !!

again, i say this everytime (and i say "i say this everytime" everytime, does that make sense..?)

BUT LITERALLY WILBUR VIBES

like its written all over oh my lord-

wilbur is physically obsessed with your eyes

would just stare at them for hours

he loves how your eyes are dark colored but still so sweet looking

wilbur also loves your very gorg contrast of your hair and eyes

your eyes would also make that man do ANYTHING

need something from the store? he's out to tesco within minutes. want coffee from the local cafe? its on the kitchen counter.

speaking of eyes, it could just be me but i feel like will kinda has really small eyes?? idk might just be me

but it kinda gives off a siren eyes vs doe eyes vibe

im so sorry but he constantly calls you short (in the nicest boyfriend-est way possible)

pats your head when he needs your attention

considering hes about a foot taller than you its really funny when you guys are walking next to eachother

in sorry boys vlogs, if you ever made a star/guest appearance, he would only call you "small guy" even if your role had a name which eventually became a joke in the fandom

for him its a perfect height for him to reach down a tad bit with his l o n g and l a n k y arms to interlock hands with you

also a perfect kissing height for you guys

now for personality time :D !!

wilburs also the quiet kinda type

very much black cat vibes from him

he could stay silent and lay with you for hours and do nothing, as long as hes with you

i also think that wilbur deep down is a people pleaser as well

but if he catches you doing too much people pleasing, he'll stop and talk to you abt it

will be very quiet with you, but can also be very loud with you

"whatever you're feeling, darlin" typa dude

wilbur is also utterly obsessed with your music taste and just your shared trait of music obsession

will make playlists for you and will do listening parties

if you ever need help with any instruments he'll help you straight away !!

you guys having lil jam sesh's

aaaaaa my heart the brainrot is insane

wilbur loves drawing with you, even if he cant draw

you'll do portaits of him and he'll do portaits of you

he tries and attempts to draw either you or somethng that you love very much (for ex, the cornflowers from mc you love :D) and will leave it in your phone case or on ur monitor

you guys listening to rain together from the window and just talking

or sitting on the roof and watching the rain and thunder as it pours down on you

oh, and he also made ghost!bur after you (blue and yellow) after mentioning you enjoy those colors

wilbur LOVES YOUR ACCENT even as a silly british boy (coming from an american)

just like him looking at your eyes for hours, he'll also want to listen to your voice and you ranting for hours.

he finds so much love and comfort in it

yall being the cutest couple overall <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

so so so cute oh my god !!! the brainrot is brainrotting rn

sorry this request got written late, been real hectic recently

also yess i would love a new anon !! welcome ⭐ anon <3

thannk you for reading, i hope u enjoyed. please support me by liking, reblogging, following, replying or sending in an ask/request or just popping in to say hello!

love u all mwah xoxoxo

[ithinkabouttzu]

Hi!! Can I have a BoB ship?

I’m pale, sort of auburn-blonde, green grey eyed, 5’6” and fairly slender but with big boobs and hips.

I'm very passionate, always smiling, empathetic, sarcastic, smart, and easy going. I hide behind my humor so people can’t get too close, and I overcompensate my shyness by talking to everyone, so no one believes I really am. I’m riddled with anxiety and massively self critical and can be stubborn and proud. But I try to always put others first, and I like to challenge myself. I’m fiercely loyal once I let someone get close to me. I’m a nurse, and I’ve been told that instead of being like “work wife,” I’m “work jester” because I just go around trying to make everyone laugh.

I love animals, especially dogs (I have 9, plus 1 geriatric cat and 8 chickens). I also love learning about anything and everything; I spend a lot of free time listening to lectures or watching documentaries. I’m an avid traveler and reader. Music is very important to me, and I listen to just about every genre from every era. Drawing and painting are my catharsis, but I love doing anything creative.

Thanks in advance! 🦊

Thank you for your request sweetheart!!

and you gotta hear me out ok this but

I ship you with…

Denver “Bull” Randleman!

- Okay so let me say how ENAMORED this boy is first upon meeting you, like man thinks you’re GORG

- HAS to come up to you and introduce himself, and that’s when his southern hospitality really comes to play LOL

- Has millions of pet names he calls you (darling, princess, sweetheart, pumpkin, honey, doll) Be ready because he can get CREATIVE with names 🤣

- He thinks your smile is SO pretty and tries so hard to see it whenever he can 🥹

- He loves how outgoing and funny you are! When you guys first met, you showed that side of yourself to him and he couldn’t get enough LOL

- Always tries to see more than your funny jokes and (even though he loves them), he knows it’s just a defense mechanism and wants to see that genuine side of you.

- but don’t forget how *obsessed* he is with your body and curves, like if you wear tight fitted tops or pants he cannot keep his hands to himself

- Sometimes he can tell when you get shy or nervous and will make sure to talk to everyone with you!

- He also loves how loyal and passionate you are, He knows you keep the people you love close to you and he admires that so much.

-He also knows if you want something you’ll try your best to go for it! He sees that fieriness in you and loves it!!

- He hates when you start to be hard on yourself and always reminds you it’s normal to not be perfect in everything you do (even though you are perfect to him 🤭)

- Literally breaks his heart when he sees you get nervous or when he can tell when your anxiety acts up.

-he always tries to talk you through it (if you let him ofc) or if you guys just want to get away to take your mind off of whatever it is, he’s ready!

- Both of you are MAJOR animal lovers and i could def see you guys having a whole farm of animals ( like loves ALL 9 of your dogs once he meets them) Also those chickens 🤣

- Saturday nights are definitely movie nights where you guys watch all of your favorite documentaries. bull isn’t as much of a fan as you are but he still enjoys it (cause he’s with you ofc 🤭)

- and whenever you guys have free time, oh boy, he’s planning all these cool places you guys can look at and go to. Both of you are ambitious to explore together and make memories with each other 😩

- I can see you and bull just winding down together and listening to music (he definitely sings all of the romantic songs to you 🥹) There’s definitely songs that remind him of you and whenever he hears them he just stops and smiles like omg

- Also can we mention how he loves your drawings?!? Like Van Gogh who? He finds it so cool that he can see your feelings and emotions through your work, he feels closer to you in some way when he looks at them (so cute omg)

- But overall this boys main goal is to just SPOIL you and love you! he just cherishes you so much 😭 (and can’t wait to put a ring on it) LMAO

Hi honey thank you again for requesting! If you want another BoB ship with someone else let me know and i’ll do it!! 💝

Hi honey thank you again for requesting! If you want another BoB ship with someone else let me know and i’ll do it!! 💝

Hi honey thank you again for requesting! If you want another BoB ship with someone else let me know and i’ll do it!! 💝

Hey honey I hope you like this and thank you again for requesting! Let me know if you’d like to request for another BoB guy and i’ll do it!! 💝

Hi honey I hope you love this and if you want another BoB guy just let me know!! ��

- He thinks you are such a special person,

- loves your curves like so much 🙈 whenever you wear something tight that accentuates your chest or your hips he literally cannot keep his hands to himself 🤭

-

-

[hyunverse]

hello my sweet loveeee i hope ur day has been good :)) i just woke up and i’m about to go grocery shopping and i’m hoping they have my favorite pastry 🙏🏼 what’d you get up to today ? :)) anime names for cats are always so fitting yk ?? like it just works with cats so i completely respect that. i will be sure to give them kisses for u when i get home hehe. and yea dude the rats here are NASTY. people’s dogs can also do some reallyyyyyy questionable things 😭😭

YEP THE BACK LINE UR SO RIGHT i love that dorito shape on men 👌🏼. i feel like out of all the kpop idols in 4th gen, sunghoon, chan, hyunjin, and mingi have like the broadest shoulders i’ve seen so far like i literally think you could lay across them and just be fine (which like yes sign me up pls). YES VICTORRR so dead and sweet and gorg he is prime dead example 🙏🏼 i also wish i had long fingers. i’m always shocked at seeing the size diff of jeongins hand to his phone 😩 talk about sexy. god i just love hands i could talk about them for days it’s like embarrassing atp

sushi all day every day !! i will pick sushi over anything always 🤭 nachos are def up there too tho i love a nice loaded nacho. also thank you for your input thats so good to know. i will definitely be trying it out then :))) i love thai food so much as well so that’s good to know too ^_^ thank u love. SAME my heart beats so fast and i get the shakes 😭. it also oddly makes me break out rly bad ?? but it’s like painful acne too ?? idek. asian dolce latte sounds soooo good rn. i bet our starbucks menus are so different (tbh anything but americas seems better for all food chains). the christmas specials are always so good too, i love when they actually come up w new stuff here

SOOOOO SMOOCHABLE even for todays concert he just looked so so good. i was so mesmerized by felix and jeongin from the clips i’ve seen. something about the tight black jeans just does it for me every timeeeee 😩 MINHOS THIGHS don’t get me started again 🤭🤭. they all looked so good and i love the new dark blue outfits, it’s so sexy 😩

- 🐈‍⬛

sweet love is so cute i’m melting. hello angel baby <3 my day has been super good ^__^ i just watched an anime film called suzume, almost teared up im ngl ☹️ i have a tendeancy to cry during films 😔 it’s the sensitive heart in me 🤝 aaaa i lovelovelove grocery shopping sm <3 the cereal section makes me happy eventhough i don’t typically buy them </3 i hope they have your fav pastry, babe! whats ur fave? i love bagels, or any pastry that has meat in it, really. what do the dogs do there, help 😭 i think malaysian dogs are pretty normal 😟

DORITO SHAPE I CACKLEEEED. U DIDNT JUST CALL THEM DORITO SHAPED 😭 chan’s back mmmm. esp that one performance, i think wolfgang where he took off his shirt ISBDKWJS MAKES ME FERAL ‼️ also maybe its just me but sharp collarbones... delish.

victor is the man them e-boys wish they were but arent. they could never be victor. he is far too beautiful. unreachable visual 💯 talking abt animated characters... how are we feeling about howl pendragon? so sexy 😋 JEONGIN’S HANDS ARE SO BIG LIKEEEE?? /:+"!+ THE SIGHT OF THEM MAKES ME MALFUNCTION?? SIR PUT THAT HAND IN MINE RN ‼️ HIS PHONE BE LOOKING LIKE AN ERASER IN HIS HAND BCS HOW BIG HIS HAND IS. HRJFHEHF R GRTRR

coffee is so good it’s unfair that its bad for us 😭 why r bad things always so good. smh. i think our starbies menus are deffo different, actually, a lot of our fast food menus are different me thinks. esp with the fact that malaysia is a dominantly muslim country, so a lot of chain restaurants have to be halal (muslim friendly) — therefore they don’t serve food that contain pork or alcohol. i think that's the main reason why malaysian menus are super different compared to america’s!! i know there are certain recipes available there which aren’t here </3 also!! ik most americans typically customize their starbucks — compared to that, malaysians usually opt for whatever that’s on the menu. i rarely customize my order tbh ^__^ and whats up with American mcdonalds constantly having a broken ice cream machine? istg i go for a mcdonald's ice cream run every week and its never broken 😭 oh and u mentioning thai food is making me crave for pandan leaves chicken </3

concert vids are always so good. THE HYUNE DANCING VIDS CONTAMINATING MY TIKTOK FYP RN IS CRAZY. CRAZY I TELL U!! someone said that hyunjin flirts through his dancing and oh god. . . it’s so true. now i can’t get the thought outta my head. FELIX BEEN ACTING UP A LIL TOO MUCH LATELY BABE... WHATS UP WITH THE CONSTANT SHIRT LIFTING 🤨 HES IN HIS S WORD ERA ISTG ‼️dark looks fit them sm 😋 they look so 😋 nomnom able 😋 minho’s thighs in them leather jeans doe. . . think abt it...

it’s like 4am rn i shud sleep. have a good day my baby, kisskisskiss <3

[dragonsareourfuture]

Ways the Death Note Cast Show They Trust You

I lost some inspiration towards the middle there, I’m sorry!!

L

- he will always have Watari make extra servings of food just for you. It’s a bit startling at first. So suddenly there’s just food in front of you that you think is for L, but when you push it towards him, he pushes it right back to you.

“You don’t want it?” He’d ask, leaving you confused until you finally put the pieces together.

“Oh, I…I guess I didn’t realize it was for me. My bad.” You begin eating. “Thank you.”

L simply hums and continues with whatever he was just up to.

- You know that thing cats do where they’re sitting perfectly still, eyes closed, guard slightly down, but still not quite asleep? I can picture L doing something like this during any moment of downtime he gets. Just sitting, scrunched up in his chair or wherever he happens to be, eyes closed but the cogs in his brain are still turning. You notice him doing this when it is only you and him in the room, simply thinking it’s because of the moment of rare solitude. Little do you know, it’s because he trusts that you won’t hurt him or let anything bad happen to him.

- L is a person who prefers to be in charge of his own life. He likes knowing what’s going on around him at all times and when things are out of his hands he can’t help but feel uncomfortable. However, with a person he’s developed a close relationship with and knows he can trust with everything he has, L will feel more comfortable leaving decisions up to them. You’ll have to start small though, like being the one to plan a surprise date. He might feel a bit uncomfy at the beginning, shifting around and possibly even insisting he sit so that he can see the exits clearly, but he eases into it eventually. Soon you both find yourselves joking around in the odd way that you do and gorging on cake and ice cream.

Mello

- being vulnerable is something Mello isn’t too keen on. He already feels vulnerable most of the time and would kick himself if he let that show through his actions. If Mello truly trusts you, he will feel as though he can be vulnerable around you without any judgement on your end. Small acts that show vulnerability such as asking you to help him with something he can’t quite handle on his own — even if it’s something as simple as not being able to reach something off a shelf or being unsure about how to fix something. Eventually, he’ll work his way up to the bigger stuff like being physically wounded in front of you or having a mental block.

- Sharing his clothes with you or letting you pick his outfit for him. Now, it sounds like he’s just being a little diva and that’s only partially true. But his clothes are important to him, they’re a factor that sets him aside from his plain-dressing rival and in his eyes they make him more interesting than him, visually at least. He’s happy to dress you up, and it is true that he has to have a close relationship with you to want to do so, but you should be especially proud if he lets you alter his appearance in any way.

- He likes to believe that he’s had his goals set out from the beginning. Surpass Near, become the next L, and go on from there. What he pushes to the back of his brain are the moments he’s been studying and he’s asked himself ‘What if I went down a different path?’. He quickly pushes these thoughts away, but they keep coming back. What would life be like if this wasn’t an option for him? What if he were a writer? What if he lived in the city with people he loves and went to the movies every Friday? Unwillingly, he has a whole list of possibilities. If he truly trusts you, he’ll share every single one with you. Whether it’s dropping hints or confessing them one by one late at night, he can’t help but feel that they’re safe with you.

Misa

- it seems a bit surface level, but it’s true — Misa will talk down on Light in front of you if she trusts you. But it’s not straight away. She had developed a lot of courage to actually break up with him, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still doubt her decision to do so. It’s only when she finds out from you how loved ones are supposed to treat each other — with kindness and respect — that she feels her decision to ditch Light was the entirely right one. Slowly, she’ll start to admit to you all the things she hated about Light, starting with some of his mannerisms and building up to something like how he forced her to leave the entertainment business.

- Misa is…dramatic. She likes to go above and beyond for someone she’s infatuated with and make sure they’re the happiest they can be. If she trusts you enough to develop this kind of infatuation and, with some development, less of an obsession and more of a strong, bonding love, you will be doted on to the point where it’s almost ridiculous. You could be at home during one of her work days and you’ll get a delivery of lunch from your favorite takeout place because Misa was ‘thinking of you <3’, as she explains when you text her asking why food randomly showed up at your place. It’s rather sweet.

- Misa’s a pretty talkative person in general, that’s a well known fact. She’ll talk about clothes, a cute birdie she saw on her way home, really anything that comes to mind. But, she’ll do that with about anyone who’ll listen. It’s gradual, so it’s hard to notice, but if Misa grows to trust you she’ll start talking about some of the more serious things that have been on her mind for a while, those things that she thought would scare off anyone she liked because of how personal they are to her. Her family before they died, for example. It’s something that Misa thinks about. So much. But she doesn’t really talk about it. She wants to forget, put the past behind her but because she’s never talked about it with anyone it’s hard to do that. She’ll talk about her family to you, the little things her sister used to do and some things her parents did that she misses.

Matsuda

- Matsuda often begins to idolize those who he thinks are trustworthy and have a good heart. He starts to tell you how much he loves when you do x and that he wishes he could perform as well as you in that area. In a sense, he trusts you with his vulnerability, letting you know that he thinks of himself as less than satisfactory and how he wishes he could do better, only he channels it by pointing out good things about you. If…that makes sense.

- This sounds dire, but he’ll risk his life for the people he completely, without a doubt trusts. He was willing to do so with Chief Yagami, someone he saw as a father figure, and he would certainly be willing to do so with you, someone who he feels he has a deep emotional connection to. Whether you’re in a situation where he would need to or he’s just saying that he would, he means it.

- Matsuda trusts you to not make fun of him when he overshares or talks too much or anything his coworkers brush him off for. He feels that he can talk about things he finds funny and talk about his life without worrying about what you think of him when he does.

Matt

- he would drop everything to help you. Whether that’s dropping his game to help you kill a bug or leaving his duties behind to help you out of a life or death situation. Whichever scenario you happen to find yourself in he’s there no matter what.

- He’ll invite you into his personal life. I know this is kind of a given but Matt had the chance to become the next L. He had the chance to become something “great” and he said “ummm rather not” to it because it wasn’t something he wanted. If he shares this information with you, he trusts you not to leave him for something better when you discover the status he could have had and refused. He trusts you to appreciate him because of him and not the intelligence everyone but him cherishes.

- He leaves you alone around important technology and software he’s hacked. Unfortunately for him, betrayal comes with the business he’s got himself into and, if Matt really trusts you on both a professional and emotional level, he won’t have a problem worrying about whether or not you’ll take advantage of his coffee break to gather information for some other organization or something. He will literally just go “mkay babe I gotta go fuel up on caffeine real quick, you’re good watching the hacked government database right? Cool cya.”

Near

- Near trusts you to take him to public places. Sounds simple, yeah. But Near has never liked crowds, or even just too many strangers in a wide open place. It’s strange to everyone observing how one day he decides he needs a new toy, his old one having broken due to old age, and asks you to take him to the toy store. He’s questioned, people wondering why he wouldn’t rather you just go alone but Near insists. Apparently the toy that broke is special addition and he wants to make sure you get the right one. He stays close to you the whole way, not really saying much, but he’s there and that’s a big step for him.

- He helps you out with puzzles. Basically cheats for you. When he’s eyeing one specific empty slot, coughing lightly to get your attention, just know that he’s not helping you because he thinks you need it. Quite the opposite actually. With anyone else, he believes that they should be able to solve it on their own. He thinks that if they can’t, then that’s their fault. But with you…it’s as if he trusts that you’re intelligent enough without the puzzle being an indicator of that intelligence, so much so that he thinks the puzzle itself is obsolete when it comes to you. He doesn’t need a puzzle to know how smart you are.

- He’ll eat the foods you make him. Near’s picky eater-ness is above that of a child who only eats chicken tenders and pizza. He doesn’t eat that many people’s food because he knows it’s probably not he way he likes it. But with you, he trusts that you respect his eating habits and know him well enough to get it right the first time. Though he does check the food out for a bit, he’ll eat it. Sometimes all of it. Fuckin astonishing to Rester who had attempted many times to heat up microwave dinners for the guy.

[luveline]

hi jade baby!! i’m a bit late to the june baby lovetrain but i needed some time to gather my favourite parts and long commentaries about that work of art – because that’s what it is, a masterpiece, honestly.

first of all: junie!! she’s the loveliest baby in the world and i would die for her. and the way eddie is always calling her “little lady” or “trouble” <\\\3

“There's not nearly as much clutter or decoration as his own home but it's twice as clean and every surface brags a clear affection – you fucking love your daughter. There's a framed photo of her as she looks now at the mantle without a single fingerprint on the glass, baby photos in smaller frames hang on the wall.”

i’m obsessed with the little details you add to your descriptions that end up meaning so much!! like mentioning that junie’s photo doesn’t have a single fingerprint, how her mom loves junie so much that it’s quite literally crystal clear!!

"The oatmeal needs to soften. Is there anything you want with it? I've got lots of options," you tell him, pouring milk into your own mug. When you're done you and Eddie swap. […] Eddie shovels half of the smile into your bowl. You clutch your spoon in your hand like you want to protest, but no way is he gonna watch you miss out on nice things in your own home.

her selflessness and how eddie very quickly realizes it, sharing his own blueberries with her!! 😭😭 also the way you write them having breakfast together, the familiarity of each using something and then swapping right after they’re done with it 😭😭 there’s so many other scenes where you write their domesticity so beautifully – when eddie mentions the luxury that is having someone washing his hair in juxtaposition of everything being so small, when she starts humming while cutting it and he says that doubts she realises what she’s doing. another personal favourites are “She also points at the red cat and says blue. It's a learning curve.” and "Ooh, she's so smart. First blue, then red. Next you'll be saying indigo, and vermillion, and-"

“Jammies," he repeats. You hate how happy he looks.

and

"Nobody ever asks about work," you say. 

and also

“He thinks if Junie could understand how often her mom prioritises her and misses out for her she'd want to fix that. Eddie doesn't know you half as well as she does and it breaks his heart sometimes to watch you insist on a smaller portion, to watch you put things back at the grocery store because she wants a box of milk duds, even to watch you wear yourself out ironing baby clothes in the only pair of pajamas you own.”

the way eddie picks up how everything in her life seems to be a little junie-centered and actually makes an effort to ask about her!! how his features always soften when she casually slips these details 🥺🥺

“You’d die for Junie. You’d do worse. But to eat, to know she’s fed — gorged — to know you can sit here and eat this whole bowl of fruit all to yourself and you won’t have to put it down, that’s heaven. It’s better, because you never let yourself have anything nice if you can help it. The fruit turns to a lump in your throat and you swallow it, sniffling. Your lashes grow heavy with unshed tears and you keep your gaze resolutely on your dessert. When was the last time you had something this nice all to yourself? When was the last time somebody ever went out of their way to be this nice?”

she’s since the beginning saying how nice eddie is and how she’s always looking after her and junie until this moment where his affection overcomes her 😭😭😭

there’s so many other scenes and lines i could talk about, honestly. the “Eddie Munson is an expert at pushing his luck” and “You do, but it's not really what he'd meant.” are also personal favourites. but my absolute favourite scene must be this one:

You tuck his hair behind his ear and grin at him. "Now what are you sorry for?" Your hand lingers near his cheek. Slowly, you turn it, pressing the knuckle of your index finger into the skin under his eye and rubbing a small line. He worries he’s in love with you right then and there. […] Your beaming smile hits him straight in the chest. He thinks about how beautiful you look and can't stop, hiding his face in your stomach to stop from saying something stupid, laughing loud. You laugh in tandem, hugging the back of his head until your giggles peter out. 

their closeness!! their affection!! their familiarity!! jade, your writing is genius, i don’t think i have enough words to talk about it. honestly, thank you for sharing your amazing talent with us – and for free! you’re insane. you’re spectacular, really.

i’m sure this is the longest ask i’ve ever sent you, (sorry 😅😅) so I’ll shut up for now! can’t wait to read the next part of june baby, but please take your sweet time to write it and please please take care of yourself, baby. super super proud of you and your writing, sweetheart!! ily!! 💌 - lu

oh my god oh my god this is such a treat, i still can't believe you noticed the fingerprints thing im <3

thank you so much for taking the time to collect your fave parts and share them with me I promise it means EVERYTHING to me, I love love love seeing what you liked and what you thought

you're more than kind, thank you for this 😥 it feels like such a gift, I must've read this ask five times over now with a smile. to think something that I see myself as a silly story and know you like it idk it's just insane

and thank you for always making me feel so special, you're always saying i should be proud and that you're proud of me and you're just so sweet, i know i don't deserve it but im selfishly so happy that you expend the time and effort to be this lovely to me

[bonefall]

For the ask thing:

Darkest Hour,

And

Dawn.

���Darkest Hour - Best and worst death

Best Death; The Bluestar Supremacy Continues.

What a sendoff to a major character! After having her cruelty arc, making you doubt if she would ever pull through for her Clan ever again, the way she lashes out at her deputy and her warriors for the previous books... she gives her last life body checking an animal three times her size to save her apprentice, her deputy, her very legacy.

The fall into the gorge, the frenzied attempt to save her, the final moment between her and her children... They really did it. They really crafted this one perfectly.

I'm also extremely fond of the deaths of Stonefur, Tallstar, Onestar, Seedpaw, and, obligatory Code of the Clans endorsement, I love the deaths of Mossfire and Jumpfoot.

Also, if it counts, I really appreciate Redtail's funeral in TPB.

Worst Death; Every shock death of interesting background characters in later books.

I could go on for days about this. Rosepetal, Strikestone, Rainwhisker, Spiderleg, Furzepelt, Briarlight... background characters with small roles to play are the BACKBONE of a clan. They make it interesting.

I think the Erins pick characters who the audience has some attachment to for killing off when they need to sprinkle some deaths in, but it's a REALLY bad mindset. When you only ever kill off the characters with something interesting about them, you end up with clans full of survivors who have nothing going on.

ThunderClan is BLOATED right now. It's over 30 cats, half of them have never had a chance to do anything. Developing them takes time. It takes investment. Picking cats with good potential to kill for the emotional weight is like yanking half-baked cupcakes out of the oven because you're running out of sweets to serve at a party. You're NOT doing what you think you're doing, you're just wasting good sugar and flour.

BUT... If I have to pick ONE cat?

Briarlight.

Her death was fucking insulting, and it's not a good look that the brand new writing team's first major kill was targeted at a cat based on Vicky's disabled cousin.

And it was straightup just to add some random sad. I hated reading about this big, depressing funeral where all the fan favorites come out and cry and say goodbye to a character the new writing team couldn't be bothered to respect.

ThunderClan lost a character that added immensely to the camp dynamic. Her death served no good narrative purpose. We as an audience lost the chance to ever see the writers improve on the abelism of her previous arcs.

Her death makes me angry thinking about it. She should still be alive right now.

🌄Dawn - Best series moment

Ohh, that's difficult (MOOD WHIPLASH HELLO)

There's a LOT of amazing moments in the series... I feel like I'd need to get this question more specifically for each arc because it's hard to pick one for the WHOLE series.

So I'll just pick it for TPB for this ask, because I think it's when Firestar is receiving his lives for the first time. The hype. The appearance of the people in Fire's life that were important to his journey, the prose describing the emotions that wash over him as he receives each life.

There's a reason no one forgets Brindleface giving him the love of a mother and he's literally knocked off his feet. It's amazing.

If they did that same scene today you KNOW his 9th life would have been Thunderstar coming down from heaven to tell you to buy website merch or something.

[adriensaltprompts]

Submitted prompt: An alternate-universe Adrien swaps with canon Adrien

(edited to follow the rules–Remember! You have to be the creator of the specific AU, or have permission to write for it, to have it as a prompt here! A link to the post by the creator saying they’re fine with people using the specifics would suffice.)

____________________________

The Adrien Agreste from an alternate universe where he and Chloe are good people who are actually responsible suddenly finds himself in our canon universe, with no idea how he got there or how to get back, and quickly becomes disgusted with his counterparts actions once he learns of them.

To make matters worse, his timer runs out within a minute of him appearing, and his Plagg isn’t with him, so the kwami has no answers, and is just as confused as he is.

And Plagg is also…strangely giddy. He doesn’t seem concerned at all for where his Adrien has disappeared to.

But Alternate Adrien doesn’t really have time to think about that, because he has to transform again to get back into the fight.

Alternate Adrien, not being a complete idiot, would realize immediately upon meeting this universe’s “”Ladybug”” that it’s Marinette! Marinette has the Ladybug Miraculous in this universe!

She calls out–confusingly–”Chat Noir, where have you been!?” as she spots him, even while she’s still fending off the Akuma, which has gone on the offence.

He’s confused by the new name–what the heck kind of name is black cat???– but he’s more excited than he is concerned about the name, glad to see a familiar friend, and leaps into the fight, determined to help her to the best of his ability–

And is shocked and concerned by her reaction to him as he expertly strikes out at the Akuma, watching what she’s doing and acting accordingly so that they’re in balance.

She’s–

Suspicious. 

Nervous.

Scared.

They defeat the Akuma with ease, and after she’s purified the Akuma, he tries to go in for their usual high-five–

–And she leaps backwards like he’s going to hit her, her eyes wide.

The congratulations die in his throat.

And then her earrings give their first warning beep, and before he can even open his mouth again to speak, she flees before he has a chance to explain anything or ask any questions. She swings away from him so quickly, so desperately, and disappears around the corner of a building like she’s afraid he’ll chase her.

He’s left standing there, alarmed and confused, with no idea what’s going on.

He heads “home”, hoping that things will be different there too–but not so much. His father is still an abusive, neglectful jerk. His bedroom is mostly the same–the comforter on his bed is grey instead of orange–but nothing else besides that. Nothing material, anyways.

He gets the chance to sit down and talk to this Plagg, and Plagg happily reveals, to Adrien’s horror, that the other Adrien treats him horribly. Doesn’t listen to him, breaks his trust, blackmails him, and doesn’t even let him eat most of the time. He can’t count the number of times he’s been dragged into the ring literally screaming.

Adrien is so horrified it takes him a while to even be able to speak. And in the meanwhile, Plagg is gorging himself on the cheese Adrien offered him just as a matter of course, acting like someone who’s been stranded on a desert island for months, not a kwami that’s been living in a mansion stocked with unlimited food…

While Plagg eats, Adrien remembers Marinette’s strange behavior, and with anxiety forming a pit in his stomach, he opens his computer, which isn’t even password protected, to find out just what this alternate universe version of himself, who calls himself ‘Chat Noir’ has been doing that would cause Marinette to be so afraid of him even though they’re supposed to be partners.

He didn’t think it could get worse than how this version of himself treated Plagg, but that hope doesn’t last long.

It doesn’t even take a minute for him to find a website filled with clips and video evidence of this universe’s Adrien sexually harassing Marinette, trying to kiss her, trying to pressure her into dating him, even videos of him lying about their relationship to other people right in front of her!

And the site doesn’t just show “Chat Noir’s” horrible behavior. Chloe is mentioned too, by name. They know her secret identity because–he can barely believe it–she purposefully revealed it herself on live television.

He drops his head into his hands, despairing at how wrong everything is in this world, trying to figure out how he can possibly fix it.

It’s not enough for him to go home, to his universe. He has to help these people deal with this horrible version of himself. Maybe it’s not him in those videos, grabbing Marinette to stop her from getting away, or laughing in her face after purposefully upsetting her but…

It looks like him. It sounds like him.

He has to take responsibility.

Because unlike this world’s Adrien, he’s actually a decent person.

He’s not Chat Noir, villain in all but name.

He is Catalyst, and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t do everything in his power to help.

Rules for the blog - send a prompt

[r0zez-in-bl00m]

~ 𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓮𝓵 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓭 ~

Looking more like a boy

🍎 Epel x fem!reader (fluff) WORD COUNT : : 1.5k

Description- Epel loves his beloved very much, even though they look more manly than him. But what happens when he tries to become more manly himself?

Epel loved (y/n) more than anything he ever had loved before, not only him but his lover knew that too. The whole Pomefiore dorm did, Vil was very happy to see them together though he would comment on one flaw every time this topic was brought up in his presence.

 Only one thing's wrong in their wild relationship, is the perplexity of finding out which one of them is a boy or a girl. God, (y/n) always had to assure him that not to get so overboard on these pathetic matters, but that guy wouldn't have it. Epel gets so angry when someone confuses him with a girl while he's somewhat embarrassed that his girlfriend was so strongly built.

 Even Mr. Vargas sometimes gave an example of her to teach the students to build muscles, Vargas rarely compliments someone else other than his egocentric self on the concept of muscles. But (y/n) begs to differ on that matter. "Mr. Vargas is more female following, I guess." 

 Insecurity is highly available in the love market. Epel dragged, literally dragged, away (y/n) when some delinquent/ jock randomly flipped his arm on her during Magift practice. Be prepared for a long lecture in a very cute voice by the little apple, pun intended. Expecting a change in accent when he started talking was crucial. 

 "Why?! Out of all people . . ." "Ain't I enough for ya?! You don't like me because I ain't muscular?"

 Then there were coddling moments, (y/n) crushed Epel into a hug," God, my idiot boyfriend . . . if I liked muscular guys would I go out with you in the first place?"

 The girl teased him a lot though for his switch in accent. "You sound like a little lion sometimes. . . Kingscholar would be jealous." The apple boy blushed a lot with (y/n) whispering in his ear or touching his face.

 To match her girlfriend in every way Epel tries a little too much than expected.

 One day while experimenting in the laboratory along with Jack Howl for their assessment Epel was multi-tasking with another book hidden under his desk and reading the book which was based on magical pharmaceuticals for the second-year level.

 By chance, Jack spotted the book and scolded him for cheating. Immediately Epel got a switch in his persona and was bomb-barding over the 192cm wolf with his southern comments while spilling his beans at the moment. 

 "You're trying to make a potion that will make you more muscular?" Jack muttered in disbelief, he couldn't fathom at first that why would a cute Pomefiore require such a potion in the first place.

 Epel, being Epel, switched to his regular façade in an instant and was stammering like mad as a hatter. "Oh, !-! I-it's just . . . so t-that I can look a b-bit . . . more masculine... f-for her." It wasn't hidden from anyone that (y/n) (l/n) and Epel were dating but Jack never expected him to go this far to read and understand a high-level medicine book. Jack merely scratched his head, confused about what to say next, "I think Vil-Senpai once told me that taking a body development potion can cause a lot of strain to the body as well as the mind. . ." Epel had his head down, pressed against the desk, "I know that! It's just it's kinda weird that (y/n) looks more like a man than me." 

 Feeling like a good puppy that Jack is he decided to help Epel with the potion considering that it was of vast complexity (and we know that our Tsundere puppy would never admit that he is doing this by heart lol).

    All afternoon Jack and Epel spent their time researching and putting all sorts of herbs and potions into the cauldron. "Epel, focus closely on how the color changes. We don't want to create trouble for ourselves." Jack instructed while putting another herb as designated in the book. Epel nodded," Understood."

 Slowly the color started to fade into a vicious color of red, thick and rich. Jack and Epel both peered down to take a closer look. As the book said it would be welcoming at first glance yet the trick of the potion was to figure out which part was truthful. It hadn't yet been figured out that when was it best to consume the potion. Many theories were concocted for its usage; 'drink it when it turns out a bit bluish', 'it'll smell like rotten eggs at first,' 'don't drink if it's still milk-white,' such and such. 

 "How will we figure out that the potion is drinkable yet-"Jack said, he turned his head only to be at the verge of losing it. Epel was already gorging on the drink, the liquid falling on the floor at each gulp. "E-Epel?! What are you d-doing?" But by then it was already too late. 

 The potion was all gone and all was left was to see if their hard work bore any fruit. Laughter broke out a minute later. "Jack!! I can feel the power surging in me . . . . God, it's amazing!" Jack was baffled, then knowing that everything was alright smirked a little at their success. But then something struck him, Isn't potion supposed to make him taller? Then why is he shrinking... 

 His realization was as late as ever. A poof of purple smoke surrounded Epel and within the blink of an eye . . . vóila! The apple had turned into a cat; A pretty cute one to be exact.

 His eyes were big with their same blue irises and were staring adoringly/in confusion at Jack. "Meow?" Jack took it as 'what the hell happened?' As much as he wanted to lecture Epel the Cat, he couldn't. Stan cuteness.

 Jack cursed the time he decided to be a good puppy and help Epel out, now he was in big trouble than anyone could anticipate. The terrifying image of (y/n) wrathful face started to haunt him, he was sure that Epel had the same thoughts. With swift arms Epel was under Jack's protection, they both headed towards the hall of mirrors to the Pomefiore dorm.

 But but but . . . the goddess of fate had taken a little vacation. In their hurried state they were spotted by the person they both least wanted to see right now.

 "Hey, Jack!!!" 

 "Goddamn it!!" Jack muttered angrily, this couldn't have been the worst time to be killed right now. (y/n) approached him at an unprecedented speed Jack could've reciprocated. He was done for. "What up bro—oh who's this?" (y/n) gazed at Epel with the same affection she would give him when he, you know, is not busy as a cat.

 The girl patted the cat's head, "Is this your pet, Jack?" (y/n) asked. His face flushed red at that question alone, so did Epel's, but in this case, it was his snout. "Uh . . . no . . . (y/n). It's not my pet. . ." Jack stammered, and hard. That day was no good for him. "It's not yours? Then maybe Ruggie's? I've seen him quite getting along with Lucius," the never-ending string of cat-related questions continued with Jack stammering like a fool and Epel losing his shit.

 Finally, in anger, he leaped in (y/n)'s arms. The girl was taken back a bit but materialized because of Epel's soft purring. "It's strange. . . Epel does the same when he's having a rough time. Burying his face in my arms then falling asleep," (y/n) laughed. "Which reminds me . . . have you seen him anywhere?"

 Be prepared to see a dying Jack any minute. 

 A guy, then, approached the group in a hurry, "(y/n)! Vice prez of Octavinelle is looking for you." 

While being dragged away (y/n) called out to tell her if he gets to know anything about Epel do let her know. God bless the anonymous dude who unintentionally saved Jack Howl from being slaughtered. Epel looked relieved too, that and a little triumphant purr.

 Then their venture towards Pomefiore continued. Upon reaching everyone in that glittering dorm showered Epel the Cat with love which was already less required but was, later on, were saved by Vil Schoenheit.

 Jack ushered Vil into a corner with Epel still secured in his arms and narrated the story from top to bottom.

 "YOU WHAT?!" Nobody could understand why their simply composed dorm leader lost his cool all of a sudden.

 Vil already made plans to clear out his afternoon to lecture Jack and Epel thoroughly tomorrow for causing this blunder, but Epel Felmier had to be saved. That night Jack again spent his entire time looking through the potions book with Vil brewing the antidote. Never in his life, Jack went through so much Alchemy and he swore that whatever happened next he wouldn't touch a single Alchemy book (unless it's a test then we can't sue the wolf).

 But one thing was final that he was going to do something lurid to Epel as soon as he gets back to normal, or he isn't Savnnaclaw.

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

[dragoneyes618]

Twig crept quietly through the forest, sniffing. He didn't scent any other cat, which was good. If Lowbranch caught him, he would have a lot of explaining to do.

He was going to the rat nest. Twig hadn't been born by the gorge, but he'd been here long enough to know that all the cats in the area loathed rats, avoided the rat nest like the plague, and wouldn't eat one if it was the only prey in the forest. Lowbranch had told him stories, stories of a group of noble cats called a Clan who had been destroyed by swarms of rats, rats that could think and speak and plan-plan the destruction of cats.

Personally, Twig thought the stories were exaggerated. There was a big rat nest in the area-he was already able to smell it-but there was no way rats were able to organize and cold-bloodedly systematically attack and kill cats. It would have just been instinct, like always. Probably the leaders of the Clan had been bitten by rats and died, and the rest of the Clan had panicked and fled, spreading stories that had eventually morphed into these fantastic rumors, which was why, to this day, no cat in the gorge area would touch a rat.

Twig hadn't been born in the gorge. He was what some cats called a "loner," wandering around, never staying in one place for more than a moon or two. He had liked it that way. But then he had come to the gorge, and met Lowbranch.

It wasn't good for cats to be afraid of things, he thought. Sooner or later, you had to face your fears. What if it was the middle of leaf-bare and the only prey they would be able to find was a rat? Not that rats were very good prey, but they were definitely better than nothing.

Besides, Lowbranch was expecting their kits. If she didn't face her fear now, before they were born, she wouldn't have a chance to for moons, because there was no way he was bringing a possibly infectious rat to a nest of kits. He had his limits.

When Twig was younger, he had been afraid of heights. But he had overcome it. His mother had told him stories of cats who loved climbing up trees and cliffs and onto the roofs of Twoleg nests, and his father had one day gently coerced him to climb to the roof of the Twoleg nest they were in. Once he was up there, he had been awed at the view, and he was no longer afraid of heights. Unless he got too close to the edge, of course. Than he felt a bit dizzy, but who didn't?

Besides Lowbranch, that was. Lowbranch practically lived in trees.

He would do a similar thing here. He would find a rat, and kill it, and bring it to Lowbranch to show her that yes, it was a rat with a dangerous bite, but it was much smaller than a cat. It could be killed. It was prey. It was nothing to be afraid of.

Lowbranch would have freaked out if she had known where he was going, so he had snuck away from their den while she was still asleep, waded into a stream for a bit to hide his scent, and headed toward the rat nest.

Twig reached the outskirts of the broken-down Twoleg barn, where the rat nest was. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. Didn't the Twolegs know that this was a breeding ground for rats? Why didn't they do something about it?

He took a deep breath and glanced around nervously. He thought of Lowbranch. Then he slipped between the silver wire.

He spotted a rat almost immediately-a little brown rat facing away from him, nibbling on something. He crept closer to it silently, unsheathed his claws, and pounced.

See, Lowbranch? he thought, staring at the dead rat between his paws. It's just a rat. It's nothing to be afraid of.

Just as he thought that perhaps that had been too easy, he heard a rustling noise and looked up.

He almost choked.

"By the stars," he whispered, borrowing an expression of Lowbranch's.

He was surrounded by rats, dozens, hundreds, of rats, their brown fur rippling, their tails twisting, their claws and ears twitching. It was dizzying. He literally could not see the ground beneath them.

He realized he wasn't breathing and forced himself to inhale.

The stories were true, he realized. They were all true...

He looked around for any possible escape route, but there was none. The rats were cutting him off from the fence, from that tree several fox-lengths away, from anything that could save him.

Twig brandished the dead rat like a weapon. "Stay back," he cried, grateful that his voice shook only a little bit. "I've already killed one of you, and I will kill more!" Who was he fooling? They outnumbered him at least two hundred to one. "I am a warrior!"

Warrior was the term Lowbranch used for a fully-grown cat who could hunt and fight. He wasn't sure what the difference was, but it sounded fierce.

A guttural noise came from the rats. Twig realized it was laughter.

"Warrior?" a twisted, harsh voice said, emanating from the center of the rat swarm. "You are no warrior. We kill warriors before, and we kill you now again too."

Twig felt like he was going to throw up. He dug his claws into the earth. So that part of Lowbranch's stories had been true too...How were talking rats even possible?

The rats crept closer, rippling. They began to speak the same phrase over and over again, or perhaps the words were just echoing in Twig's mind. "We kill you again. We kill you again. We kill you again."

Twig took a deep breath and faced them, baring his teeth. If he had to die, he would die like the warriors Lowbranch always spoke of with stars in her eyes, fighting for his mate, fighting for his unborn kits.

Lowbranch never found out what had happened to her mate. A moon later she gave birth to two tom-kits. She named one Twig, for his father, whose fate she would not know until she joined the stars.

She named the other one Sky, in memory of the lost Clan.

[bitchapalooza]

How the nations spend Valentine's day

Denmark: He spends time with his friends and family! He gives them all snowdrops then spends a few hours with them before he leaves to let them have time to themselves. At home he usually just watches movies then falls asleep on the couch. He's not scared to sound so unbearably single, he's proud to say he's indulging in his own desires.

South Korea: He lazes around on February 14th and March 14th, more so celebrating April 14th— Black Day. He doesn't understand all the big hoo-blah of Valentine's Day nor does he really have anyone he wants to celebrate with, same goes for White Day. Either way, he uses each opportunity for self care really.

France: He handwrites personal cards to his immediate friends and family. Depending on who it is he'll also send a small meaningful gift. He sees Valentine's Day as a time to (nonsexually) show his partner he loves them as any other time he finds it hard to be incredibly honest with his feelings. And boy does he go all out...

China: He doesn't celebrate Valentine's Day himself, rather he attends the early Valentine's Day party America and France co-host every year. Instead he prefers the Qixi festival in August. He still doesn't take part in the festivities but he looks on at all the participants, happy they're having fun with the new modern takes. He doesn't like receiving gifts himself, he just sees more value in actions and words than material items.

Veneziano: He tends to reserve this day for his family nowadays. He invites his brothers over for a nice dinner that evening, spending the earlier half of the day cooking and baking their favorite individual meals to show he's listening to them and he cares(he wakes up VERY early to get a head start). He doesn't get much time due to work to actually hang out anymore so Valentine's Day is a good way to fix this.

Romano: The first half of his day he spends in the garden. He's not much of a fan of the holiday since he has such a hard time conveying his feelings in the first place. However if an abundance of his vegetables are ripe or his flowers are fully grown, he'll gather them up and leave them on his oldest neighbor's porch— she's a kind old lady who lost her husband and her kids, and grandkids, barely visit her now. He honestly hates to see her so alone on this day, just like him, but rather than feeling bad for himself he passes a good spirit onto someone else for once. Plus, he remembers when this little old lady was just a little girl running through his yard with her brothers to catch their runaway cat! Of course he's going give her a gift, even if anonymous(she knows but she understands her strange uncle Romano's ways :) ).

America: He celebrates it with Molossia and Canada, a full day of video games and prank calling random businesses that happen to be open. The day after they tend to go out and buy a bunch of the marked down candies and gorge themselves on it. They do regret this later however, especially Canada who's lactose intolerant..

Japan: He's quite embarrassed on this day most of all. He doesn't receive gifts very well, always not quite sure how to respond, and often stressing over what to give them back on March 14. He's always baffled by France's, America's, and Veneziano's gifts(often a set of candies from their respective countries or recipes for baked goods/candies that they know he'll enjoy making himself). He really appreciates their thoughts into these gifts. Now how to repay them....

Germany: He personally doesn't celebrate. He finds it be a redundant holiday as everyday should be used to show your love and care to your close ones. He spends the day like normal, with exception of opening whatever gift was sent by his friends and calling to thank them.

Prussia: He gets into a strange baking mood the entire month of February. He LOVES Valentine's Day because then he can share the cookies he made! He tries to get Germany celebrate with him— proposing his favorite cake to make together, go to Austria's to share some cookies with him and Hungary, watch some lame movies and heavily criticize them, ect— but he barely budges. Otherwise, he goes out drinking and has fun that way.

Spain: He takes part in the festivals nowadays rather than the holiday itself. He likes the bustling crowds and seeing his people in such high spirits. He sends gifts to literally everyone he knows, spending quite a lot but not regretting it at all. The exception to this, however, is he's never sending anything to Portugal. The two brothers have a long standing day of silence between each other out of pure unfiltered spite due the one year they BOTH happened to lace their chocolates with an unhealthy amount of citric acid.

[violentshine]

Nettlehawk/star (oc)

I honestly have no idea why she’s the first oc i’ve drawn when she was literally my most underdeveloped character,,,until I started listening to Evelyn, Evelyn which now fits perfectly with her & her sister, Smokeseed

A bit about her; (kinda wordy </3)

Her mother, Dappledrain (or dapplerain i havent decided) died after giving birth to her two kits, Nettlekit and Smokekit. There was one other queen, with an older kit, who nursed the two but as soon as Nettle & Smoke could eat solid prey, she left the nursery. 

Once they were 6 moons old, Smokekit was interested in training as a medicine cat so Cloudybird (medic at the time) trained her while Nettlekit trained as a warrior. 

Nettlepaw’s mentor was given to her (no name) because she was close to her mother, but that made their relationship strained because Nettlepaw thought she would rather it her be in Starclan instead of her mother. Nettlepaw would also lash out and become violent during battle practice. One session, Mothstar was watching and stopped the training after Nettlepaw clawed her training-buddy, saying that she wouldn’t have done that if her mentor paid attention to her. Mothstar than ordered both ‘paw & mentor to talk to him in his den where Nettlepaw told him about what her mentor has (allegedly) said to her. Mothstar says he’ll appoint her a new mentor and says she’s free to do what she wants for the rest of the day. Her old mentor tells Mothstar that that wasn’t the first time Nettlepaw has hurt someone in training. Mothstar is not having it and just blames Nettlepaw’s harshness on the lack of a caring mentor, but once she gets a new one she would improve. 

Nettlepaw and Smokepaw now have a strained relationship because Nettlepaw purposely avoids talking or any interaction with Smokepaw.  

Later on, Nettlepaw becomes a warrior, Nettlehawk and eventually becomes deputy. Her and Smokepaw, now Smokeseed still don’t talk. Until Mothstar dies, and Nettlehawk becomes leader. On the way to get her nine lives, Nettlehawk refuses to walk next to Smokeseed who has no idea why her sister is so distant, maybe it was their different roles but now that Nettlehawk is soon to be leader, then that won’t be the case anymore, right?

Right as Nettlehawk, now Nettlestar comes out of the Starclan meeting area and Smokesed sees her, she gets a vision; bloody water with nettles floating on the surface. 

Smokeseed does all she can to warn Nettletsar about incoming danger but Nettlestar wants nothing to do with her and refuses to listen, Starclan gave her 9 lives for a reason.

By this time, Nettlestar frequents the Dark Forest and trains, as well as sometimes leaving camp to fight rouges or tough kittypets. This just adds to Smokeseed bombarding Nettlestar with questions and her worries about the vision which pisses Nettlestar off more and more.

And then... Nettlestar yells at her, Smokeseed is taken aback by her outburst but still insist on knowing what’s going on with her, especially with what just happened. Smokeseed follows Nettlestar out of camp and asks her why she won’t talk to her anymore. They were so close when they were kits and now they’re so esstranged. Nettlestar tells her to stop living in the past and move on. Smokeseed doesn’t understand and asks what happened, why does she feel this way. Neetlestar explodes, she says she never liked her, and the only reason she and her were close as kits was because they were the only cat each other had. She tells her to bother someone else with her blabbering. They have more bickering back and forth until Nettlestar snaps and attacks her, pushing her off the gorge edge (idk how to explain the area they’re in,,,it’s elvated or smth).

 Smokeseed is the first to wake up after they rolled down and sees Nettlestar not moving. She quickly goes to check on her. Moments later Nettlestar wakes up (lost a life) but upon seeing Smokeseed, she attacks her again. Smokeseed tries to dodge and tell her to stop but Nettlestar doesn’t. Nettlestar is aware of how close they’re getting to a body of water (probably a pond) and purposely tries to get Smokeseed closer to it; she does, and Nettlestar tackles her, she falls into the water and Nettlestar holds her down. 

Nettlestar goes back to camp.

 In response to the questions, Nettlestar tells the clan Smokeseed is dead, “brutally murdered by yours’s truly”. The clan is in shock but Nettlestar pays no mind to it and goes to the medicine cat’s den and tells Smokeseed’s apprentice, Thornpaw he’s done with training and is ready to get his full name. The clan demands her to go into exile but Nettlestar says she’s done no wrong, she’s a leader, whatever she does is backed by the code (might be my own warrior clan but the code is practically still the same <3).

The clan really can’t do anything, how would anyone exile a leader with 9 lives ? 

Nettlestar stays leader for a while, a group of cats do try to chase her out but she kills one of them and tells them to back down. 

That’s it <3 she dies eventually of course and ends up in the Dark Forest and them um...yea

Oh ! another thing before the Smokeseed stuff- an apprentice reported to Nettlestar about a group of foxes that moved in to apart of territory and Nettlestar told her old mentor to take a patrol to hunt there. The patrol came back, in shock from the foxes & Nettlestar says she had no idea they were there. Her old mentor accused her of setting her up but Nettlestar plays dumb. 

Yes <3 she did plan for her old mentor to get caught off track by the foxes but didn’t happen so :/

[slasherholic]

omg i never thought abt jen and mikey together but like......wow so pretty. do u have any thoughts or hcs u can share 🥺

tbh I only ship them as a crackship for the aesthetic™️ and also bc a power couple consisting of not one but TWO gorgeous murderous bastards is too much for my feeble villain fucker brain to handle

bUT YES I TOTALLY DO HAVE HCS. they’re v lazy but kinky as shit because michael really really needs to get dommed i mean knocked down a few pegs by a woman other than laurie sOOO

*note: the film never specifies jennifer’s age, and neither did any of the sources I researched, so I’m sticking with my pre-existing hc that she was an 18 y/o senior in the movie. jen is obviously a legal adult here 👍

HCs | Jennifer Check x Michael Myers (NSFW)

*AU where Jen lived and went on to be a bitchy succubus for all eternity and is now extremely good at what she does

*warning: non-consensual pp touching ahead

ha, hope y’all didn’t think this was gonna be an actual functional relationship cause IF SO well then honey, you got a big storm comin

remember the jason x mikey ship dynamic where the gag is that mikey is basically jay jay’s stinky mean cat who gets sprayed in the face with water every time he’s bad?

yeah, so michael is jennifer’s bitch very angry, very fun pet. oh how the turntables, mikey

only jennifer doesn’t exactly share jason’s innocent nature ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

michael had been in the market for a new “s/o” after his old one errr broke

and since stalking jen made his pp very hard, she was obviously the perfect choice for the job

but when michael made his move on her, haha whOOPS

nice going pp brain, your not-so-victim is a literal man eater and you just broke into her home so now she’s going to kick your fucking ass

yes jen is stronger than michael, yes she can yeet him like a soda can across her kitchen, yes she can sit on his chest and choke him out against the floor, yes it all happened in that order and no michael doesn’t want to talk about it

in michael’s defense he did get a fuckton of fatal stabs in on jen before he conked out from oxygen deprivation

lol too bad she’s immortal dumbass

jen wasn’t expecting to be dining-in tonight, but oh well a bitch ain’t gonna turn down free catering

might as well get a peek at what’s on the menu tho, let’s just get this crusty ass mask outta way and—

—oop he’s gorg.

totally her type too, at least back when she dated boys instead of tearing out their livers

she’s not even -that- hungry, so like, she kinda doesn’t wanna kill him yet?

she like, kinda thinks he might look pretty chained up ass naked in her living room?

yeah she was right lol

also his dick big

tbh jen was only planning to keep michael around until she got hungry, but fuck, he’s just so much fun to play with

she figured out pretty quickly that he wasn’t gonna talk to her

but that’s cool, he doesn’t have to open his stubborn bitch mouth for her to know how much he fucking detests the cuffs he’s locked up in and her and the fact that she can overpower him

jen finds it really funny to pin michael’s limbs down and have sloppy make-out sessions with his pretty face until that nasty glare of his turns downright murderous

yeah it gets her bitten but she doesn’t care because that’s really hot what the fuck

he’s so feral she loves it

soon, she’s making a point of grinding her crotch against his bare cock as she sucks his lower lip until he pops a very hard and very angry boner

sometimes jen leaves her cute toy all alone afterwards to suffer with his problem

but sometimes, she reaches down and wraps one of her slender hands around his hard-on, stroking and squeezing and teasing until he’s beading up with precum, painfully swollen

and then she grips his powerful neck with her other hand

and while jerking his cock, c h o k e s him until he’s blue in the face, until his body is gasping and heaving reflexively, until he’s fighting and thrashing so violently that he’s nearly bucking her off

but oh my god, he comes like a motherfucking firehose

michael has never felt such indescribable rage in his entire life. not toward anything or anyone. nothing he has ever experienced approaches this boiling hatred; he despises jennifer check with every fiber of his empty black heart and when gets free he is going to murder her in the most brutal fashion his mind can possibly concoct.

and jennifer absolutely cannot get enough of him.

[taeslovehandles]

The time was near. Jimin and Jungkook would be turning 21 soon which meant their hybrid genes would slowly start to activate and transform their bodies accordingly.

Their friends - which had turned a few years earlier - looked majestic. Namjoon was a lion hybrid and grew a beautiful mane in his 20's. Jin and Hoseok both had different mixes of dog hybrid in them which sometimes caused issues with Yoongi being a cat hybrid. Taehyung had strong tiger hybrid genes. He had turned just last year with 20 and was an early shifter.

Jimin was excited to see what hybrid genes he would be having. Maybe another dog breed? Maybe something exotic?

Jimin started to feel his nipples tingling and becoming really sensitive and swollen. The more days passed the bigger they grew. After they started to lactate Jimin was truly confused and embarrassed.

Jeongguk started to get hungry 24/7, nothing and no one could get him out of the kitchen. He gained a lot of weight and was unhappy about his changes without being able to control himself gorging on food. After he started to spot a little curled tail the youngest couldn't hold back his tears. Why must he be a pig hybrid from all the amazing genes he could have had?

Will the both of them be able to accept their hybrid genes and what happens when Jungkook and the the other members slowly get addicted about Jimins delicious hybrid milk?

[Read More]

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

Finally. After 21 years it was finally time. Jimin and Jungkook were sitting at the table and blew their candles out, around them were their members gathered. With loud cheering and clapping the two had successfully become fully fledged adults. 

It would take their bodies around one to two weeks to fully develop their hybrid genes they had carried in them since birth, but no one knew what hybrid type they would be getting. It was always an exciting time to guess and find out. Some families even turned it into a guessing game with little rewards for whoever got it right first.

“Congratulations to maturing boys!” Namjoon cheered, patting the two boys shoulder supportively. 

“Wahh, I can’t believe you are already 21 now! My little brothers are growing up so fast. I think I have to cry. Awooo!” Hoseok added while hugging Jin, who was howling as well.

“Congrats. I’m going back to sleep.” Yoongi replied. It’s not that he was in a particular bad mood but he hated it when Hoseok and Jin started howling. His cat ears turned back in irritation, he smoothly walked out of the room and disappeared into his room.

Taehyung smiled his boxy smile and hugged the two boys affectionately. “Congraaats! It’s going to be so much fun to finally see what you guys are going to be! Any feelings yet? Pressure on your head, does your butt tingle? Mhm? Mhm?”

“Stop bothering them and let their bodies prepare and shift in peace Taehyung. You are making the poor boys nervous. Ha Ha!” Namjoon shoved the younger aside gently.

“Now eat your cake and enjoy these two weeks! I’m sure you’ll turn into beautiful hybrids. We couldn’t be prouder of you two!” With a last pat on their backs Namjoon grabbed Taehyung and moved into another room. Hoseok and Jin following behind.

Jungkook’s mouth was watering just looking at the huge cake in front of them. He grabbed a plate and fork and began to dig in. Jimin had already grabbed a piece of cake and was enjoying himself. One half was chocolate flavoured while the other one had strawberry flavour -Taehyung had ordered the cake-.

It was Hybrid tradition to let the shifting ones in the family eat as much as they wanted before the rest grabbed any leftovers. If the shifting hybrids managed to eat the entire cake it meant good fortune and exceptionally hybrid genes! And Jeongguk was not a quitter.

The both of them dug in and took big bites. Jimin was enjoying the sweet flavour of the chocolate mixed with strawberry and ate a lot faster than normally. However that was nothing in comparison to his sitting partner. 

Jungkook was literally stuffing his face faster than he could swallow it down at this point. Giving off soft moans of enjoyment as he did so. His fork, almost not big enough for the huge chunks, the youngest put on it. “Hyung this is such a good cake, my god!”

“Yeah, but don’t forget to breath Kookie!” Jimin giggled in between bites.

The younger craved a refreshment that went well with cake and scooted over towards the fridge grabbing a pack of milk. “Do you want some milk too Jimin-ah?”

“Yes please, thank you!” Jimin replied while chewing. Jungkook sat back down and took a huge sip of the milk. He hadn’t brought any glasses, the two didn’t mind sharing the same pack of milk at all. 

Jimin reached for the milk and took a big sip. He shifted his head to the side, face looking confused. “Doesn’t it taste weird for you?”

“What?”

“The milk. Are you sure it’s still good?” Jimin took another small sip and decided to grab a glass of water instead. If he’d drink anymore of that pack of milk he might throw up.

“Hyung Yoongi opened that pack yesterday and he seemed fine today. I don’t think it’s bad.” Jungkook replied with his mouth stuffed to the brim.

It didn’t take them long. After half an hour the entire cake was gone leaving a stuffed Jimin and Jungkook leaned back in their chairs rubbing their bellies to ease the tension.

It wasn’t particularly that the both of them ate the same amount but more like Jungkook finishing almost 80% on his own. The cake was just too damn good. Jimin had been eating the entire time too but Jungkooks speed was unbelievable.

After another appreciative round of clapping and hugging the two shifting boys the members cleaned the dishes and pampered the two until the day came to an end. 

•••

Jeongguk woke up in the middle of the night, covered in sweat and breathing heavy. What was going on? The younger felt his throat being dry and decided to go downstairs to grab a glass of soda. 

•••

Jimin woke up hearing noise coming from the kitchen. His bedroom was downstairs closest to it. He stood up with a slight headache and decided while he was checking out who was making so much noise in the middle of the night to go and grab some medicine for his head as well.

Jimin squinted into the kitchen. The lights were turned off, only the light from the opened fridge showing a silhouette sitting near the kitchen counter moving their hands quickly. He could hear wrappings moving around, crunching and eating sounds. Who was eating in the middle of the night? Jimin decided to reveal the silhouette and turned on the light.

“Jung- Jungkook?” Jimin looked surprised. “What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” That was definitely a first. The light revealed a slightly more chubby Jungkook snacking on leftover pizza and multiple empty wrappings around him. His shocked face was covered in crumbs from various dishes.

“I- I uhm.” Jungkook tried to make the best out of the situation and wiped the crumbs from his face and chest before answering a confused Jimin leaned against the kitchen wall.

“I wasn’t feeling so well and woke up at night. I was really thirsty and went down to grab some soda and somehow I ended up eating. I don’t know what happened. I guess I just got hungry.” 

Jimin didn’t think too much about it. It could happen that you woke up and craved something in the middle of the night. He especially did that with vanilla ice-cream when he felt sad but Jimin had never seen Jungkook doing it.

“Just, make sure you clean up when you’re finished okay? Our hyungs will scold you if you start to not clean up after yourself again.” Jimin grabbed a glass of water and medicine before going back to his room.

Was he imagining things? Jungkooks frame looked a lot more chubby. Maybe he didn’t see right, it was in the middle of the night and he had been talking to Jungkook in a constant squint.

•••

The next few days couldn’t have been weirder. Jungkook kept gorging himself on food non stop. His mouth filled with food almost 24/7. The only time the boy was not eating was when he passd out from a food coma. His sleeping schedule was messed up by constantly eating and sleeping afterwards to digest.

The members didn’t mind and encouraged Jungkook to eat to his heart's content. They fully understood how exhausting it was when your body started to shift and adapt and for each hybrid their way of coping with it was different. Yoongi for example became really possessive about random objects in the room and scratched anyone getting close to them. The only way you could stop him was to give him loads of milk. Even till today Yoongi loved milk way too much. With Namjoon, Hoseok, Jin and Taehyung it had been meat. The first two weeks of them changing ended up in mounds of plastic wrappers of various meats. Raw meat at that.

Jimin and Jungkook still remembered the terrible smell the kitchen had been in everytime one of them was in a shifting phase. After Taehyung shifting last year the boys were glad it looked like none of them were having predator genes. Gladly. Another two weeks of smelling raw meat everywhere would have been terrible.

To Jimins surprise his body hadn’t given him much info on what genes he was having. His body was fine, his eating habits were normal and he also didn’t wake up in the middle of the night sweating uncontrollably and feeling the urge to stuff himself in the kitchen like the youngest had. Besides occasional headaches around his sleeves Jimin couldn’t see or feel any differences. He slowly started to worry something was wrong. He wanted to shift too and it was disheartening that Jungkook went through so much change while he was still looking like a non-hybrid.

“Ggukie, want some takeout?” Hoseok asked the youngest. What a question. Jungkooks eyes went towards the big bag filled with fast food and almost yanked it out of Hoseoks grab. Without saying anything towards the  golden retriever hybrid he maniacally ripped open the packages and wrappers to dig in aggressively. He had stopped using plates a long time ago. The younger had also found out that using his hands was a lot more effective to shove food into his mouth than using small forks or spoons.

“Woah!” Hoseok was startled at the aggressiveness of the youngest but didn’t mind it at all. He was understanding and added with a giggle. “Looks like someone was really hungry! Let Hyung know if you need anything else, okay?” no response, Jungkook was too busy eating.

You’d have to be blind to not notice just how much weight the youngest had put on over the week. None of his clothes fit him properly anymore. His panda kept rolling down his wide ass greeting the members with his asscrack while sitting. His belly was resting on his thick, chunky thighs and he had developed a constant double chin. His fingers were chubby and connected to big, flabby arm wings.

Jimin slid into the kitchen to grab some food for himself. At least that were his intentions before he noticed there was literally nothing left to eat. The only food that was in the house right now was Jungkooks bag of fast food. Jimin looked at the fatty burgers in disgust, he felt sick to the core. The smell was terrible… had burgers always smelled so bad?

He decided to put some outdoor clothes on and go shopping. 

Jimin went back to his room to take his pajama off. His chest had been sensitive since yesterday. He wasn’t quite sure why all of a sudden and didn’t think too much about it. What had Jimin startled was the way his pants seemed to fit but also not?

“What the-” Jimin pulled his pants up and besides small, chubby love handles that had been growing on his sides his pants fit fine. He had no problem buttoning them up even with the little squishy belly he had gotten over the week. But he couldn’t zip his pants up.

Jimin was in no way fat, maybe a bit chubbier now but nothing more. In comparison to his body posture the chubby flesh hanging over his dick was concerning. He had started to grow a fupa. The fupa was pushing out of his pants and Jimin was unable to close them.

“Shit.” He cussed. Jimin decided to simply put a long shirt on, the ones that hung down to your knees to cover his unzipped pants up. 

He took another pill against his headache and went out to go grocery shopping.

While on the way to the market Jimin took a deep breath. Their house was close to farmland and he loved the smell of the grass outside. It had been raining recently giving off that smell of wet, fresh grass and Jimins mouth was almost watering thinking about it.

He craved some vegetables and salad… and maybe some sweets.

•••

Jimin arrived home to chaos. He could hear Yoongi hissing, ears tucked back and his tail moving left and right aggressively. Yoongis claws were showing which meant nothing good.

“Jungkook stop! You are making it worse.” Jin yelled. What in the world was going on here?

“Stop that! Just give it back to him Ggukie!” Taehyung added, holding Jungkooks arms behind his back trying to stop the youngest.

Jimin put his bag of groceries down and watched the scene develop in the kitchen. Jungkooks face was covered in crumbs like always, while Yoongi looked like he was about to claw the youngest.

“What is going on in here?” Jimin asked, shocked. It’s been some time since Yoongi acted up like that - and he never did without reason either -

Jungkook tried aggressively to get rid of Taehyung ,and now Namjoon as well, hands on his back that held him in place. It was quite hard for the two cat hybrids to keep the big boy in place. Even Namjoon struggled and he was the strongest of them all. 

Yoongi was standing in front of the kitchen counter protecting something behind him. Jimin moved his head towards the right and noticed it was a pack of milk. Ah- no wonder Yoongi was on edge. Jungkook had been continuously drinking his milk not leaving anything behind for the poor cat hybrid. It was just a matter of time until Yoongi was done with Jungkooks bullshit and lashed out.

“Jungkook please. We can buy more for you if you want milk but this is the last pack. Let Yoongi have it, okay?” Hoseok tried to convince the youngest to stop resisting.

Jimin slowly moved towards the boys and rummaged through his bag of groceries. He hadn’t asked the boys if they needed anything but Jimin being considerate had bought some food for Jungkook and the members as well, figuring they’d need more anyway.

“Kookie look, I got you some potato chips and sandwiches. Help yourself mhm?” Jimins voice was gentle as he was holding the items out towards a really angry Jungkook.

The youngest eyes locked onto Jimins hands and with a speed Jungkook yanked the food out of Jimins hands, sat on the floor and started digging in. Jungkook was in a feeding frenzy. It didn’t matter where he was eating or what, he just needed food.

Everyone seemed to take a deep breath after they’d just avoided a fight between Jungkook and Yoongi. “It’s okay, go take the milk with you.” Namjoon carefully moved towards Yoongi who was still on edge. The older hissed at Namjoon, grabbed the milk and ran off. The door banged loudly.

Everyone was looking at the youngest who had finished the bag of chips already and was moving onto the big bag of sandwiches shoving an entire sandwich into his mouth and chewing quickly as if he had been starving for days. Jimin couldn’t remember the last time he had heard the younger speak. It seemed like such a long time ago even if it had just been a week.

Namjoon wiped some sweat off of his face and the members seemed to slowly calm down again. Jimin offered them some food he had bought for them and went back to his room to eat in peace. The last thing he needed now was Jungkook finishing his bag of sandwiches faster than expected and trying to eat Jimins food, he was starving at this point.

Jimin opened the package of salad and started to eat it eagerly. God it was so delicious, he had made sure to grab one without any meat pieces in it as he seemed to dislike the smell and taste of it now. Jimin was glad he went to buy food when he was hungry as it looked like he would eat everything he bought in one go. 3 packs of salad were quickly eating together with a pack of cookies and a can of soda.

The boy rubbed his belly and burped once before his head started to hurt again. God he wished this terrible headache would stop soon. After taking another pill to erase the pain Jimin had decided to give the pack of milk, he originally had bought for himself to go with the cookies, to Yoongi instead. Jimin had forgotten that the last time he had tried to drink milk it didn’t taste good either, there was nothing to lose giving it away.

A knock on the door and Jimin carefully went inside the olders room. Yoongi seemed to have calmed down as well and Jimin smiled while offering his milk. “Hyung do you want some more milk? I don’t need this pack and before Jungkook sees it…” Yoongi grabbed the milk and stared at Jimin.

“Is something wrong Hyung?” Jimin asked, confused at the intensity of Yoongis stare around his torso.

Yoongi pulled himself together and shrugged it off with a “No, nothing. Close the door when you leave.” And opened the pack of milk to take a few sips. 

•••

Jimin woke up in the middle of the night to loud sounds coming from the kitchen again. At this point he knew who it was and didn’t care to check anymore. It was the same picture every time. The only difference now was that Jungkook wouldn’t even acknowledge Jimins presence anymore if he wasn’t offering food to him.

Jimin was in pain, his stomach hurt like someone was burning a hoe through him. His headache hurt terribly, throbbing almost and his chest was hot and tingling. He stood up to get out of his shirt, it was too hot.

Jimin went into the little bathroom attached to his room and washed his face until he noticed two small bumps on his forehead. The skin around the bumps were slightly grey colored and his ears looked a bit longer too? If his head didn’t hurt so much he’d have probably ran to Hoseok or Namjoon to talk about his changes but the pain was too great.

“God, what is this?” Jimin held his stomach to somewhat try and get rid of the pain without success. His groin area felt hot and he decided to take off his pants as well. To his shock his fupa had grown even bigger over the night. It was completely covering up his dick by now hanging over it with a soft pinkish color. 

Jimin poked his fupa and instantly regretted doing so. A sharp pain went through his entire body by doing so and he avoided going near it for now. A hand moved towards his chest until he noticed his nippled were red and swollen. Fully erect, Jimin touched one of his nippled expecting some kind of pain. A pain that never came, instead Jimin started to rub both of his nipples in a constant rhythm. It felt too good to stop, almost addicting.

A soft moan escape Jimins throat as he continued to rub his swollen and sensitive nipples.

Jimin couldn’t stop even if he wanted too and after a few minutes his entire body started to tingle in pleasure. Jimin experienced a dry orgams from rubbing his nipples? That was new. Not that he minded, his headache had seemed to calm down a bit too. At least too much for the boy to get back to bed and continue to sleep.

•••

The days continued without much changes towards Jungkook besides his ever bigger growing body. He had started to grow floppy ears and a small twirly tail. His nose had gotten bigger and wider as well. The members knew by now what his hybrid genes were but Jungkook was so out of it, still not speaking and only eating and sleeping, there was no point to try and tell him right now. They’d have to try after the second week was over.

Jimin had finally started to change too. He had grown small, little, grey horns on his forehead, his ears had become longer and covered in white fur. Jimin would have welcomed these changes, if it were the only ones. Unfortunately his body was not done with it#s shift and the more days went by the more unhappy Jimin got.

His once flat chest had turned into moobs with overly sensitive nipples that were always tingling and swollen. The constant stimulation from jimins shirt caused him to uncontrollably feel heat in his groin and lust. It wasn’t like him and he hated what his body did to him.

But even with these changes he could have lived on and found a compromise. The part of his body that had changed the most was his nether area. His once really big fupa had grown twice as big, not a single pair of jeans fit the poor boy anymore and he had only two pairs of loose pants left that could hold “that thing” inside -as Jimin called it in disgust-.

His fupa had not only grown in size but also turned more pinkish with four big mammary glands. It was a weird feeling for Jimin to walk properly with that thing between his legs. He had to waddle around the room to properly move by now which irritated him. If he wasn’t irritated his udder caused him unwanted arousal depending how full it felt.

Jimin could feel his udders growing bigger per day but no rubbing or stimulating them caused them to lactate and he was slowly going crazy at the amount of pressure he felt with them slowly filling with milk.

While the one thing Jimin did not to lactate were his moobs. Everything seemed to go the wrong direction for the small little cow hybrid. Jimin hated it.

It was Saturday, second week into shifting, and Jimin was sitting on his bed looking down on his chubby belly. He had gained quite a lot in the past days as well. His once slim frame was gone and he was greeted with a soft apron covering his body. His moobs had gotten so big and heavy from filling up with milk it hurt Jimin to walk around the house. He poked his udder and watched it jiggle with his chubb. A tear flowing down his chubby cheek which flew down his slight double chin. 

It knocked on the door and before Jimin could tell them to not come in, the door had already been opened. Jimin was greeted with a concerned Hoseok. “My poor baby, why are you crying mhm?” Hoseok sat next to Jimin rubbing his shoulder.

“I hate this… look at me. I’ve gained weight and I hate the feeling by body forced on me with this damn thing down there and my moobs.” Jimin replied with a cracked voice, ready to burst into ugly crying.

“Oh baby, don’t say that about you. You look wonderful dear. Having cow genes is really rare too, we are all jealous about it! You should be proud of your hybrid side, not discard it like that.” Hoseok wiped the tears from Jimins face before getting up again. “We cooked lots of food, if you feel like it please join us. You’ve been in your room more often than Yoongi, we miss you baby.” Hoseok kissed Jimins forehead and left.

Jimin couldn’t deny how hungry he was. He had starved himself after he noticed the constant weight gain even though he just ate vegetables and salad. Maybe Hoseok was right and it would all turn out for the better. The little cow hybrid put on his largest pants he had and tucked his udder inside. He had stopped wearing boxers for obvious reasons - still not fully used to the weird feeling of everything dangling around in his nether region -.

With the door to Jimins room closing quietly he was looking at the members all sitting around a large Jungkook spilled out on the couch, his face turned towards seats and hands covering his face. He was crying, his entire body jiggling with the motion.

Jimin walked towards the members to somehow help the youngest. It wasn’t his fault how he had behaved the past two weeks, he knew and the members did too, it made him sad seeing the youngest ugly crying.

“Oh Ggukie, you are beautiful. Jimin and your genes are really rare, you know?” Jin patted the youngest back.

“I’m a fucking pig. From everything I could have been I became a pig hybrid. I’m fat and ugly.” Jungkook sniffled, his pig nose adding a few squeals here and there which did not help the situation.

“Oh baby…” Hoseok tried to cheer the youngest up. “Don’t say that about you. You are making Hyung sad you know? We all love you, don’t be sad okay? Pig hybrids are known to be smart and high on demand for high profit jobs, you should be proud!”

“Exactly!” Taehyung added with a purr. “You and Jimin may have changed the most, body wise, but that’s a good thing! You both look so adorable if I could I’d hug you all day. You guys are so soft and wonderful.”

Even Yoongi was there. He may have a bad temper and didn’t show his affection much but that didn’t mean he wasn’t sad when any of the members were crying or didn’t care.

“If you keep crying and saying you are ugly I’ll give you a reason to cry for real.” It was Yoongis way of saying , don’t cry, you are perfect the way you are. 

Jimin had walked around the couch to see Jungkooks, in tears, covered face. “Kookie, don’t cry. I know how you feel. I mean I grew two lactating moobs and an udder… do you think I’m happy about it? We gotta see the positive side and be proud we got such rare genes and use it to our advantage!” Jimin rubbed Jungkooks shoulder.

Sniffle. Jungkook mumbles something no one was able to identify. “What did you say dear?” Namjoon asked.

“I grew three rows of teats too…” The youngest mumbled. The members tried to not giggle at the frustration in Jungkooks voice but Jimin saved them by saying “So what? That means you will be a great mom one day. At least they don’t lactate 24/7 do you want to switch with me?” He elbowed the youngest with a big smile.

It had worked and Jungkook slowly heaved himself up from the couch and was now sitting comfortable with his belly resting in between his legs, hanging down. With a chuckle and a last sniffle Jungkook added “I’d rather keep my teats, thanks.” 

•••

Another two weeks passed and Jungkook had grown a bit bigger. He had stopped to constantly grow and came to a halt just last week. He was enormous either way but content in his weight by now. It was great that he got to eat as much as he wanted now without having to care how he looked.

Jimins moobs had turned into fully fledged boobs and his udder had been growing a bit bigger as well. He had learned to move around comfortably without constantly feeling aroused. Which didn’t mean he didn’t want to be humped once his circle was close and his udder and boobs were uncomfortably full and needed to be milked before it drove Jimin crazy.

At first the Jimin had milked himself but it always ended in him having to stop mid way because of his arousal taking over his body. Then the members milked him with a speciyl cow hybrid machine but Jimin didn’t like the aggressive feeling of being sucked out.

In the end it turned into a weekly gathering of all members -mostly saturday- when they’d all form a row to each suck one an available nipple to drink Jimins delicious milk. It wasn’t even comparable to the milk out of the packages and the boys got used to Jimins flavour and only wanted his milk after starting.

Jimin felt in bliss every time they had a milking session, he got lucky that three of his boyfriends were feline hybrids who already liked milk anyway. Jin and Hoseok started to enjoy his milk too, which -as a cow hybrid- filled Jimins heart with pride.

Jungkook and Yoongi drank most of Jimins milk and you could see that in their bodies. The only reason Jungkook was still growing wasn’t because of his pig genes continuing to develop but the fact that Jimins milk was really rich in calories and fattening.

Yoongi had turned from the smallest feline hybrid into the chubbiest one. Taeyhung and Namjoon had gained quite a few pounds too but Yoongi was twice their size now. They often caught Yoongi nippling on Jimins boob whenever he could mid weekend.

Yoongi was told to stop as he developed an addiction which was so great he was caught drinking Jimins milk in the middle of the night from the sleeping boy with Jimin waking up in the morning utterly confused at his bed sheets and shirt covered in milk from the stimulation Yoongi had given him.

Jimin was patting Yoongis head, who was eagerly drinking from his left boob. He smiled and rubbed Jungkooks head with his other hand, who was drinking from his right boob. Jimin was happy and couldn’t wait to see what the future would bring.

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As promised the little shortstory of the draft I shared. Hope you enjoy <3

[smokeybrandreviews]

Smokey brand Reviews: True North

The Golden Compass sucks. i saw that wet fart when i was younger, on a whim, and was thoroughly disappointed. Sh*t didn’t make a lick of sense to me. That film was my first introduction to the His Dark Materials and it soured me on the entire franchise. Like most of the movie-going crowd because it flopped like a fat man into a public pool. The thing abut that movie is that it felt like another entry into the Narnia Chronicles, and abhor that franchise. I’ve hated them since i was forced to read them when i was in the third grade. They were terrible, and that was before i become aggressively areligious. Afterward? Bro. Suffice it to say, when the BBC adaption was announced, it was hard pass for me. And then my mom got HBOMax.

I was seeing a ton of ads for season two, a strong focus on Lyra and John Parry. Th more i saw of those Youtube ads, i don’t watch television anymore, the more i became intrigued. Eventually, i bit the bullet and did some research on he show, itself. Yo, i was SO glad i opted to give this thing a chance. The cast was amazing. the principal characters, all some of my favorite actors but, more than that, the plot was mad intriguing. It was so clever and unique and so far removed from Narnia wank, it could be considered anti-Narnia almost. How the f*ck did that movie get so much wrong? Suffice it to say, i gorged on that first season like a fat kid gorges chocolate cake. I finished it last night and these are my impressions.

The Outstanding

First and foremost, i absolutely have to praise Dafne Keen in this, man. She is Lyra Silvertongue, heroine and main character of the entire Dark Materials series. This success of this show rests on the shoulders of the then fourteen year old and she carries that sh*t like a champ. There is a wit and wisdom that Lyra carries which belies her age and Keen taps into that effortlessly. She played Laura Kinney in Logan a few years back, keeping pace with Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine, so i knew she was skilled in her craft but i never imagined she’s be able to carry such demanding fair, so early in her career. I’d say she was the best thing about this show but that’s not really true. The level of quality in this thing is just that profound.

Ruth Wilson plays Marisa Coulter, Lyra’s mother, and, holy sh*t, is she incredible in the roll. Look, i love Wilson, even when she is in less than quality productions like The Affair. That show was bogus. What wasn’t bogus was her stint as Alice Morgan on Luther. I absolutely fell in love with her on that show and Ms. Coulter gives me all of the Alice vibes, just far more cruel. If Alice was calculating and aloof, the Coulter is deceitfully cruel and i love every second of it. You can tell there is a sadistic streak, straight up wrath, just below the surface and Wilson captures that skin deep veneer in a gently terrifying manner.

James McAvoy comes through and delivers yet again with his detached and insidious Lord Asriel Belacqua. It’s always a pleasure seeing this man do his job and, admittedly, he’s not in this first season much but the time that he is, McAvoy dominates. This is a desperate, desperate, man who knows he is right and will do anything to accomplish his goal. This single-minded drive reminds me so much of Sosuke Aizen from BLEACH and, like Aizen, Lord Asriel literally threw away everything to achieve that goal. It’s wild seeing Professor X go full Magneto and love it!

Line-Manuel Miranda is in this as the snarky Lee Scoresby, Texan Aeronaut, extraordinaire. Look, Manuel is a brilliant artist, i can’t take that away from him. He’s exceptional in Hamilton and on the stage but that’s a completely different skill set. There is a way you have to perform, to project, on stage that doesn’t translate to film and Manuel is still trying to get a handle on that. He’s not terrible in this role, mind you, but he’s just serviceable. However, the chemistry he has with Keen is something special. You can tell they get along strongly and that genuine interactions shines through in their performances together.

The rest of the cast is just as strong, specifically Kit Connor and Joe Tandberg as Pantalaimon and Lorek Brynison, respectively. Ariyon Bakare, Clarke Peters, Anne-Marie Duff, Lucian Msmati, Amir Wilson, Ruta Gedmintas, Will Keen, and Lewin Lloyd all turn in incredibly strong performances, for what they were given. A lot of these characters deserved a bit more screen time, a bit more fleshing out, but i am okay with what we did receive. This ain’t their story, it’s Lyra’s.

I just need to take some time and praise this show for how properly gorgeous it is. I mean, the level of production on this thing is rather profound, you knew that in the opening scene during the flood, but moreso as the world begins to expand. I know a lot of this stuff is filmed on sets and what not but, my goodness, are they elaborate and detailed. That whole arctic run was brilliant. It’s particularly intriguing when you understand how well the CG effects were used in regards to budget. The whole “show don’t tell’ adage definitely comes into effect for this serial and it’s all the better for it.

I am absolutely in love with the narrative, man. Never mind the actual plot in the books, the adaption presented is one of the best I've seen in a long a while. My goodness, the world being built is so enthralling, so captivating, i hate that i slept on this show, this series, for so long. I understand that this is one interpretation of the novel events but I'm still infatuated with every second of it.

The writing in this show is on point, for sure. It feels organic, it feels real. I know this is a series of books, decades old, but that goes a long way to proving the pedigree of this adaption. This doesn’t feel out of place or trite or try hard. It works beautifully, except for when Manuel is delivering dialogue outside of his scenes with Keen, and that is a real joy to watch.

There is a distinct focus on diversity displayed throughout this show so far and i love it. This is a reflection of the world in real time and more, big budget, shows need to show this reality. The difference between this and, say, Disney Star Wars or current Doctor Who, is the fact none of the representation in Materials feels forced. It feels organic, intrinsic to a story about entire worlds. You need this level of diversity for this story to be taken even remotely seriously in the modern day and i commend the production for handling this so well.

The Okay

I’ve never read the books so i can only judge this thing on what i glean from the wiki and what i see in the show. While i am completely smitten with what has been resented, the show feels like an abridged version of what we get in the books. I know for all adaptions that’s true but this feels like a legit highlight real of the greatest hits. I can’t say for sure but the adapted screenplay feels like it’s trying to load up on plot as much as possible, in as short a time as possible. Makes for an interesting view but, as a cat who understands storytelling, it feels like a patchwork of content.

This thing has some pretty brisk pacing. Again, i don’t know from where this first series is adapted but it definitely feels like they were in kind of a hurry to get. I mean, it really doesn’t but once sh*t gets started, it never looks back at all. It feels like that, at certain times, we should have definitely sent more time on an interaction or with a relationship. Lyra’s time in the Magisterial and Bolivar, particularly, seems rushed to me.

It’s uncomfortable how many times they make Dafne get naked. Obviously, they don’t show anything and it’s all inferred but, like, gross.

The Verdict

I loved this show, man. Absolutely adored every second of it. The BBC, when it really wants to, can produce some brilliant film. Luther, Sherlock, War of the Worlds, are all favorites and now His Dark Materials can be confidently added to that list. This show is gorgeous to watch, the production values on full display. Sweeping cinematic vistas both real and composite, permeate this rather cleverly effect heavy adaption. The performances, alone are enough to keep you coming back for more but this is, genuinely, one of the most gorgeous shows I've ever seen. Speaking of performances, everyone is excellent but the anchor is definitely Dafne Keen. Her Lyra Silvertongue is the linchpin of this entire show and she bares that weight brilliantly. I forget sometimes that she’s only fifteen, especially considering the talent she with whom she shares the screen. Ruth Wilson, James McAvoy, and Lin-Manuel Miranda all have capitol roles in this first season and they relish their time on camera, especially Wilson. I’ve been a fan of hers since that brilliant run on Luther as Alice Morgan so seeing her, here, has been giving me the best type of deja vu. His Dark Materials is f*cking outstanding, man. I can gush about this thing ad nauseam but this essay would definitely turn into a novel and no one wants that. If you have HBOMax, definitely give this a go. It’s one of the best shows out, has a full eight hours to binge in season one, and another four, so far, in season two. Sh*t is dope and i highly recommend a proper watch.