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lena-in-a-red-dress · 6 years

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It’s Frahn-ken-shteen... [a Season 3 thought experiment]

As we near the finale of S3, I've been focusing more and more on what the season has done well, and what I've noticed is that they've introduced a lot of really cool and interesting ideas-- they just weren’t executed particularly well.

It’s like they threw all these ideas at the wall of the writers room and just said “okay go”. As ideas, none of them are completely horrendous. With a little more care, they could have been crafted into a really strong season serving Kara's narrative and give it both weight and direction.

So I gave myself a challenge-- if I dissected the season into it’s main story plots, and stitched them back together to create a more coherent narrative, what would the season have looked like?

Here's what I came up with:

(warning: it’s a long one, complete with gifs)

For me, the load-bearing arcs of the season should have been the Kryptonian cult and Argo City. With those two as the stanchions of the main story plot, everything else would work to support them.

Coville’s cult would be the main villain of Season 3a. Instead of the sporadic all or nothing that cropped up here and there, they'd be running in the background the entire front half. They don't have to be the focus for every episode, but we as the audience would know that the DEO knows they're dangerous, and knows they're up to something.

Rather than being schooled by Coville in her own religion, Kara knows about Worldkillers-- they’re what people on Earth call urban legends. Spooky stories meant to teach Kryptonian children the value of trusting in Rao and obeying his doctrine.They’re ghost stories, and here the human idiot Coville is trying to worship them (and perverting Rao’s word-- let’s not forget that). This flips their dynamic so that Kara is more secure in her knowledge of Krypton than Coville is in his, and also sets the stage for the cult threat to segue into the Reign threat in 3b.

What Coville does do is spark Kara’s search for fragments of Krypton that might have survived and made it to Earth. We could have one bottle episode where she’s traveling the world hunting for another probe, and maybe that’s how she finds the Legion’s ship. She also finds some troubling records/notes in Coville’s cult that leads to some uncharted area of space that should be empty, so why is there a note? That’s how they find Argo (and Alura) for the midseason cliffhanger.

In 3b, we would take our time exploring Argo and seeing Kara really struggle with all the awesome/awfulness of finding her people again, and being torn between two worlds. She would get a chance to face and address the nasty and complicated emotions that comes with being unbelievably happy her mother is alive but also how could you send me away? Don’t you know I would’ve rather died with you? How could you use me to lure Alura in for arrest? How could you let our planet die??

And while we spend a few episodes on Argo, we’d spend some time seeing what life is like on Earth without Supergirl. This is where we’d see the really powerful arc of J’onn and M’yrnn, Alex slowly coming to terms with losing Maggie and Kara back to back-- and her slowly looking into the idea of adoption, with lots of hesitation and uncertainty.

We see her feeling like her friends were really just Kara’s friends, and her loneliness just comes crashing down until Lena and Sam come knocking for girl’s night. James runs into his identity reveal crisis, Winn runs into his mom, and we see the final stages of Sam’s transformation.

Kara starts sensing something is wrong when she starts seeing elements of Coville’s cult on Argo (the priestesses have been in direct contact with Coville for some time). Her suspicions are confirmed when she receives a distress call from Alex at the DEO-- there’s a new Kryptonian in town, and her name is Reign.

Because the nebulous use of “dark magic” to explain anything Worldkiller is anathema to me as a storyteller, the trinity’s origin/purpose would be the biggest actual change I make to this season. The “witches” may still create Reign, but with science rather than magic and it would tie back into the lore because they created her to embody the boogeyman-figure of Kryptonian legend.

Once her premise is firmed up, Reign’s purpose would come out of that-- either she’s judge/jury/executioner for National City’s criminal element, or she’s a planet-killer. Maybe she’s both: if humans refuse to be ruled in fear, they can perish with the rest of their planet. But it’ll be more clearly developed, and not a sporadic “oh she can tunnel through the earth now just because” (also: Julia wouldn’t die. That was a shitty, unnecessary development)

The season would end with Alura and some choice friends from Argo coming to Earth’s aid alongside Supergirl. Once Reign is defeated, Kara now faces her choice of Argo or Earth. She chooses Earth. It’s her home now. She has family here, and a duty to protect the people who gave her a planet to call home. Alura wishes she too could choose to remain, but she has her own duty on Argo. She failed them once-- she can’t do it again. But they can still visit each other, and communicate via hologram: no more programmed “I do not have sufficient data...” responses from Alura. It’ll be the real thing, whevever Kara needs her.

Now, some addendums:

The Legion of Superheroes -

As soon as Kara finds them, they’re featured heavily for about 3 episodes in the penultimate climax of the midseason finale, and then they’re sent on their way. Mon-el is happily married and devoted to his wife. Seeing him happy, with serious purpose, is what Kara needs to move on. Yes, it sucks to still lose him, but he’s alive and doing well, and that allows her to start healing.

Sam & Ruby -

I am 100% okay for Sam’s arc to remain relatively the same. I’ve loved getting to know her and Ruby, and I’m really attached to both of them now. The only thing I’d change is on the back end of stuff-- maybe tailor the promotional material/interviews to keep some of Reign’s development secret. I would have loved to meet Sam without already knowing that she’s going to become Reign.

I would also maybe tone down the whole Alex-Ruby dynamic. It’d still be there, but not quite so in your face. The perfect fix would be Alex and Sam getting involved, but I would be very mindful of the timing so as not to do any discredit to how important Maggie was in Alex’s development and growth as a person.

Morgan Edge -

Since Morgan Edge didn’t end up affecting Kara’s arc at any point in this season, I would have left him to act as Lena’s foil throughout the entire season. They’re evenly matched in resources and ambition, and I would have loved to see Lena play more against him in their battle of wits.

For me, her battle with Edge would be a more interesting exploration of her Luthorness than the Great Kryptonite Rift. How would the shifting dynamic between her, Supergirl, and Kara have influenced Lena’s strategy against Edge? Would she become more ruthless as Supergirl’s faith in her waned? Would she rise above, and take some sort of high road in Kara’s absence? Not to mention, what would have happened if Lillian came back into her life AFTER Supergirl bites her head off over the Kryptonite?

In summary, I would just reorganize the season to slow the big ideas down and really take the proper time delving into the heart of the characters. Especially with Kara and her search for a connection to Krypton in 3a and dealing with actually finding it in 3b. And then we’d be able to clearly see and understand her personal revelation in the finale: Supergirl is neither wholly Kara Zor-el, nor Kara Danvers.

She’s both, and all the stronger for it.

#supergirl #wall of text #gifs #commentary #presumptuous i would have rathers #kara danvers #krypton #argo #kara zor el #season 3 #rewrite #this is literally everything I want in a season #just structured better and paced more evenly #lena luthor #alex danvers #sam arias #reign #worldkillers #alura

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beewolfwrites · 3 years

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Hello! I'm not sure if you're taking requests rn BUT if you can could you do reader x chishiya where reader bought one those japanese diy food kit boxes where you're suppose to create a mini version of a food but this time its kind of candy? If you don't know what they are you can search it up. So, what if reader has to beg chishiya to help them with the kit but he just ends up reading the instructions to the reader and watches reader struggle. That's all, take youre time. I love your writing btw!<3

Hi! Sorry this took a short while! This was an adorable idea. I had no idea about those Japanese mini food kits, but after Googling them, they look so fun!

I haven't put out a post or anything, but yes, I'm happy to take requests! There are a couple lined up at the moment, so it's a fun change from writing chapters.

Thank you for such a fun prompt :D

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The time had already struck 10am, but there was still no sign of the delivery man. Glancing at the clock on the mantlepiece, you paced back and forth playing with the keys in your hand. Chishiya paid no mind. He was sitting on the couch, scrutinising a book on spinal surgery techniques like he often was. Well, he wouldn’t be for long. Not if you could help it. With next-day delivery, your dream of an ideal weekend with him was finally coming into fruition.

If only the delivery man would arrive.

10:02am.

You peeked through the curtains. Nothing. Not even a van.

10:04am.

A car rolled on by, and you looked out of the window to no avail. The keys tinkled between your palms as you bounced them around.

10.06am.

Chishiya finally set down his book. ‘Whatever it is you’re doing, stop doing it.’

‘I’m waiting for a parcel. I paid extra for it to be delivered by ten.’

‘It’s only six minutes late. What have you been wasting money on this time?’

‘You’ll find out when it gets here.’ You beamed at him. It was a smile that promised cuteness, cuddles and bonding time. All the things he hated with a passion.

Chishiya’s eyes narrowed. He tossed the hardback onto the coffee table just as a van door slammed outside. You bolted to the window and pulled back the curtain. The delivery man was walking up the drive, carrying a small brown package.

‘It’s here!’

Leaping past Chishiya, you ran to the door and fumbled around finding the right key to unlock it. Once you managed to get it open, you grinned at the delivery man and held your parcel close like a prize. It was finally here. Your dream weekend with Chishiya.

When you re-entered the living room, he was leaning back, eyes closed in exasperation. Now that simply wouldn’t do. You waited silently by the arm of the couch to show him the online treasure you’d found. Only, he didn’t move.

‘Whatever it is,’ he said, ‘I don’t want any part in it.’

‘Come on,’ you insisted, now pulling at his sleeve.

‘Let me rest.’

‘Please! I want to make this with you.’

One eye slid open. ‘Make?’

The moment the word left his lips, you knew you’d caught his interest. ‘It’s something we can do together.’

‘Fine,’ he said, sighing as he got up. No matter how reluctant he seemed, he wouldn’t go this far if he wasn’t at least a little curious.

He followed you into the kitchen where you grabbed a knife and started hacking into the box. Chishiya folded his arms, resting against the countertop. If he wasn’t unimpressed before, he certainly was when you pulled out a Popin’ Cookin’ Candy Lunch Box kit.

‘That’s what you bought?’ He eyed the kit like it belonged in the gutter. ‘I hope you used your own money.’

‘It’ll be fun,’ you promised. ‘I’ll let you make whichever ones you want.’

He prodded the box with one finger, before turning his nose up at the bubble font. ‘I’ll leave this to you.’

He started to head back into the living room, but you clutched his elbow to keep him from leaving. ’Please Chishiya! You don’t have to do anything. I’ll do the actual food making, even if you just read the instructions.’

He pursed his lips as he weighed up his options. ‘Just the instructions,’ he agreed. ‘You’re lucky I have nothing better to do.’

Yes! The perfect couples activity was in sight. Excited, you rubbed your hands together and motioned him over to the box on the counter. It was like trying to tempt an unenthusiastic cat. He merely looked at you as though you were wasting his precious time.

But that wasn’t going to stop you from having fun.

Opening up the Lunch Box kit, you tore into the wrapper packaging inside, finding a bundle of sachets and a blue spoon, all sitting in a grooved plastic tray shaped with different moulds. It was… well, not quite what you were expecting. You’d only really heard of these kits online, but you’d never actually watched other people make them. Chishiya picked up the packaging and scanned the small print on the sides.

‘You need scissors,’ he said.

‘Hold on a second.’ You were too busy scrutinising the sachets. ‘What am I supposed to do with these?’

The sachets were snatched out of your hand as Chishiya dumped them back on the counter. ‘Forget those for now. You’re supposed to cut into the tray.’

He reached into the cutlery draw and pulled out a pair of kitchen scissors. However, what Chishiya didn’t tell you was that you were only supposed to cut off the corner of the tray to measure water in. Now, surrounded by several pieces of plastic, you were beginning to wonder if this was a sabotage tactic.

He regarded the mess you’d made with a wry smile. ‘Well, I don’t believe I told you to cut up the entire tray.’

‘You didn’t tell me anything at all,’ you snapped.

‘Hmm. I’m not sure I like that attitude.’

You sighed, prodding the remains before you. ‘Sorry. I just… at least the moulds are still usable, kind of.’

As it stood, they were technically usable, but that didn’t mean they were easy to use. Following Chishiya’s vague instructions, you managed to mix tiny amounts of water with the powders to form candy shaped like a panda, a rice-ball, broccoli, fried chicken and even an octopus.

But with the tray reduced to pieces, the structure holding up the moulds had gone, meaning none of the powder mixtures settled evenly. So far, the octopus candy had dribbled over the sides, giving it a little too many tentacles. Half of the panda’s face was smudged. And the broccoli was missing half of its head.

You stared at the resulting lunch box, painfully aware of Chishiya smiling sardonically over your shoulder at the abomination you’d created.

‘Why does it look so sad?’

‘Because it is,’ was the reply. He placed a hand on top of your head. ‘You tried.’

If it weren’t for the pitiful state of the lunch box, you would’ve been more angry at him for his unhelpfulness. But there wasn’t a shred of anger in you. More than anything, you felt underwhelmed. The vision of the two of you trying something a little different together had been dashed.

‘Hm?’ The hand on your head jiggled as he tried to snap you out of your trance. ‘This was what you wanted, wasn’t it?’

Your shoulders slumped as the mini rice-ball toppled over. It just looked so… so disappointing. ‘I only wanted us to do something fun.’

He hummed in consideration. You could feel him mulling over his words, and right when you half-expected him to pull yet another joke, he looked at his watch.

‘It’s already lunchtime,’ he remarked. ‘There’s a new cafe not too far from here. It may be busy but they might have a table.’

Wait - did that mean?

As he began to walk out of the kitchen, you threw your arms around his waist, squeezing him from behind. ‘Chishiya! You’d really take us to lunch?’

‘Us?’

And just like that, the moment was gone.

‘I’m going out to lunch.’ He gestured to the mess you’d made. ‘I believe yours is over there.’

With a signature smirk, he detached himself from your arms and left to get his coat. You stood there, blinking in horror at the prospect of eating that sad little lunch box, before running after him to grab your shoes.

‘Chishiya! Don’t you dare!’

#alice in borderland #aib #imawa no kuni no alice #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya alice in borderland

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unholyhelbig · 3 years

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PPHW #2103- Haunted Honeymoon

[A/N: Honestly, the favorite of this week so far. Let me know what you think! Read on A03]

The room that they locked her in was the type of cold that made Aubrey feel like she would never feel warmth again. It made her feel trapped, claustrophobic. They were four simple walls with the inability to move no matter how hard you pushed against them- but they still felt as if they were closing in at a rapid pace. She figured the block of ice around her body would be enough to stop the crushing of her bones.

She hadn’t finished law school yet. There was one more year to go and the weight of her academic choices seemed almost stronger than implied murder. One of the first things her criminal defense professor taught her was the simplicity of discomfort: let your stare linger a little too long, let the temperature dip below 60 degrees, offer them water, and leave for hours. Make them wait and make the promise of relief sliding down their throat and into their empty stomach become the only thing that’s keeping their teeth from shattering.

Make it so that when you finally do return with that water that tastes too fondly of metal and ash, that you’re their savior. They would tell you anything at this point. Murder? Yeah, it was quite simple really. If you hand me a pen, I’ll draw a diagram.

Aubrey Posen wasn’t going to crack that easily. In fact, she found a long scratch that was stained in a satin red against the table that could distract her for at least another three hours. She let her mind wander, let it simmer. Had someone banged their temple against it? Pulled hard enough on the handcuffs looped against the holsters that it split skin? That was better than her reality.

Her hands were spread in an even distance away from the center scratch. She studied the dirt under her nails. Under most of them. When they pulled her in here, they took a wooden skewer and ungracefully dug the mix of blood and black from under them before placing them into little plastic bags stretched with orange biohazard symbols.

She felt her pulse throbbing against them now. They had nearly taken her nails off entirely and she winced as the female officer gave her a stare colder than the room. They took her shoes and socks too, her jacket. She sat in this room in nothing but a loose-fitting pair of scrub pants that had drawstrings sewn into the waistband. She wore a tank top stained yellow with sweat that had dried and made her skintight.

The door was loud. She didn’t know if that was part of the interrogation technique or the archaic structure of the same station that had stood in the same spot for a millennium. Poor architecture, she guessed.

Detective Lawson was a tired-looking man. He was the stereotypical kind of man who had served overseas, two tours, at least. He had become a cop to ward off long and sleepless nights and slowly worked his way up to detective by putting in the work and filling out the correct forms.

He held a Styrofoam cup that reflected against the overhead light. It reminded her of a pool in a cheap motel smelling of chlorine mixed with sweet smoke from cheap cigarettes. It was only half full and he threw it down hard enough for two good sips to remain. She swallowed her own dryness and didn’t’ move for the drink.

Lawson pulled the metal chair out with a screech and sat down. His body groaned in natural response. She hadn’t noticed the file he carried. She was focused on the greying of his mustache and the dullness of his eyes.

“We’ve read up on you.” He said in his gravelly voice “You’re a very patient woman, Miss Posen.”

Patient? No. She wasn’t patient. She just believed that the human mind would behave as it would. People wouldn’t’ change their behavior. She wasn’t going to bend to make them. Instead, she would watch and calculate, and maybe one day learn. But anger and annoyance, and impatience was a waste of energy.

She stared down at her fingers, spread evenly on the metal table, and wondered if she tapped them, would it spark something in Detective Lawson? She certainly didn’t’ want to rush him into opening the folder. But still, she was curious, indefinitely so, about the evidence he figured he had against her.

You’re not in trouble. He had said when he first asked her to come down to the station. She was enveloped in a calm kind of fear that she hoped didn’t reflect in her stare. She drove behind his station wagon with police plates until they made it to the small brown brick building at the edge of town. She drove carefully, keeping her stare on the speedometer, trying not to press too hard.

She felt like she was in trouble now, after having sat in this room for upwards of two hours. Of course, she didn’t’ know that for sure. There was a clock bolted to the wall on her left but its hands were permanently stuck at 6:30 and it was well past midnight now.

“You have the right to a lawyer if you so please.” He spoke.

“I know.” She said.

“You seem to know a lot of things, Miss Posen. Aside from your whereabouts on the night of October 31st”

“Halloween.”

He nodded and breathed out a thick sigh that added to the desperation of the moment. His breath was hot and sour with the scent of cigarettes and day-old coffee. She remembers the day perfectly. If he came to her in fifteen years, grayer than he is now, she would have remembered everything from the shade of the wallpaper, and the way the bell at the front desk of the motel didn’t’ work. It clanged in a muted tone-deaf way.

“Your fiancé told us everything we need to know.” He said, drumming his own hands on the table “We don’t need your confession, Miss Posen. The only one you’re helping by talking now is yourself.”

She lifted a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. There were two things wrong with that statement: Emily would never turn her in. She wasn’t as strong-willed as Aubrey, but they had promised each other, covered in sticky blood on the exposed balcony, that they wouldn’t say a word. Two: Emily wasn’t her fiancé, she was her wife. As of last month, she was her wife.

“I have nothing to say to you.” Aubrey’s mouth was considerably dry at this point. “I would like to go home. If this isn’t a formal interview, I have every right to do so.”

“We can charge her.” Lawson pushed, a little more desperately. “For interfering with a gravesite. Tampering with evidence. Disturbing a crime scene. That’s twenty years right there.”

If this was another tactic, it could be an effective one. She felt her fingers twitch and Lawson noticed it with his hawklike stare. Her eyes still reflected nothing, not a hint of panic, she made sure of that. But her blood ran cold. The idea of Emily being thrown into prison for twenty-odd years, the same dirt under her fingers, disturbed her.

“or” he put emphasis on the word “Or you can tell us exactly why the two of you were digging up one of the most prominent political figures in the city of St. Helen’s.”

She stared at him in silence. The light above them buzzed and clicked. She intertwined her fingers and leaned forward. The chair underneath her creaked and groaned. He held his breath as if she would say something, anything. “I would like a lawyer, please. I have a right to counsel.”

That would look bad. For the media, that would look bad. But she had instructed Emily to do the same thing. They would request legal-council and keep their mouths shut until they were given a perfectly planned out script. No lawyer would believe them, that’s true, but if they found one slimy enough, they wouldn’t need their belief, just their backing.

Aubrey wasn’t allowed to leave the station. She was in trouble, and she knew that the second they shoved the wooden skewer under her nails to peel away the dirt. They would hold her until she was willing to talk, or until her council got here. Neither of those was an option until morning.

They had taken her jacket along with her shoes, so her feet were cold when they lead her to the holding cell in the back of the station. It wasn’t a big place; a brick room painted a sickly olive green with fluorescent lights and concrete benches lining either side.

It smelled like urine and a woman was curled up in the corner. She had vomited on herself in a drunken stupor. She wore a leopard print dress that cut too short past her knees. She didn’t’ look up when the guards opened the metal door with a slat leading to the outside world.

Aubrey kept her back to the door and took a steadying breath. She hadn’t imagined that her honeymoon would lead her here, to a holding cell with the drunk and disorderly. Barefoot and shivering and wishing that they hadn’t been so cheap and took the tickets to Hawaii instead of staying here.

She lowered herself to the cold bench opposite of the woman who grumbled in her sleep. Aubrey clenched her eyes shut and leaned the back of her head against the brick. She had been naive to think that this would all go away. A dead politician and a missing night clerk didn’t’ just go away. It attracted unwanted attention.

Another hour could have passed, maybe two, before the door opened. The deadbolt clicking away pulled her from her elusive state. She sat up straighter, digging her hands into the concrete. The burning lights made any type of sleep impossible.

She half expected another alcohol-soaked teenager. Instead, it was Emily. She looked worn, her skin pale and her eyes a sunken type of black. She hadn’t any shoes either. They took her flannel, stained with sweat and dirt. It left her in a tank top and a pair of jeans that were equally as muddy.

Her resolve lasted. She kept her back to the guards, trying to gauge the interaction. They gave none. Instead, she walked calmly and sat on the bench across from Aubrey, still far enough away from the company neither wanted to keep. Her nose crinkled at the rancid scent.

“Hi,” Emily breathed out.

“Hi.”

She wanted to pull the woman into her embrace, to warm her so that her bare arms didn’t’ mark all the signs of being nearly frozen. Aubrey’s fingers twitched again. Her wife had held it together quite nicely, they both had, but she fought against her shoulders trembling. Once it started it wouldn't stop.

“Did you call Chloe?” Emily asked.

“Yeah… you?”

“No. Beca.”

Aubrey nodded. The two were the fiercest Lawyer’s anyone could get. Beca had studied prosecution, but her sharp tongue and angry flare was enough to scare anyone straight. Aubrey blinked hard, remembering the dinner parties with acidic wine. Her only worry then was the chicken she had slid into the oven being too dry. If it was, neither of them said a word.

“Beca sounded like she was pulling her clothes on.” Emily had a ghost of a small smile “So maybe we won’t have to wait until daybreak.”

“Maybe,” She frowned, leaning forward. Her body ached something mighty. “Are you alright?”

“As alright as I can be.”

Aubrey wouldn’t let herself cry. Emily’s voice had cracked. Here wasn’t the place for everything to boil to the surface. But still- she couldn’t help herself. She stood and crossed the gap, so she sat right next to the woman she loved. Emily tensed at the idea but melted. She leaned her head against Aubrey’s shoulder with a halfway decent sigh of content.

“Do me a favor,” Aubrey whispered, barely audible “Next time you accidentally unleash an ancient evil on our honeymoon, make sure a mayoral candidate isn’t in the room next to ours.”

Emily let out a sharp laugh followed by a sniffle. “Yeah, Alright. I can do that.”

#HW2103 #horror week 2021 #Pitch Perfect Horror Week #beca mitchell #chloe beale #Aubrey Posen #Emily Junk #Junksen #Junksen Fanfiction

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miwtze · 3 years

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bathroom floor (matsukawa issei x reader)

cw: eating disorders, purging, its not angsty

wc: 5.6k

dunno why this is so long but no beta i die like a man

matsukawa could count on one hand the names of his classmates that he could personally remember. even then it was only the class president and the student council secretary seeing as they were the only two people that ever really interacted with him when he was there. on his breaks he was with hanamaki, in class his head was down, after school he was at volleyball practice; he didn’t really have a reason to remember anyone else. it’s not to say he didn’t try, people were just standoffish due to his large structure or wanted to mingle with toru through him. he simply believed it was a bother. that was probably until his first term of his third year when he was seated next you.

“matsukawa-san.”

“matsuk-” matsukawa groans, shifting his head to the left in hopes of identifying the offending voice. he cracks open an eyelid, shifting his head to figure out who’s the one pulling him out of his nap; it wasn’t his mom or his younger brother. as his eyelids adjust to the rays of light engulfing the room he comes to the realization that he is in fact not in his bed, but rather sprawled across his desk and staring down at his desk mate’s tights-covered legs. “are you okay?” he whips his head up at your voice, wide eyed and rubbing the side of his mouth with the back of his palms as he scowls at you. not with any bad intentions but he’s willing to run the risk of looking like a dick if it saves him from the embarrassment of being caught sleeping in class.

“what is it?” you cock your eyebrows at him fingers to your chin, deep in thought. what did he say that was so interesting, he doesn’t know but he sinks into himself, wishing you would just outright laugh in his face. you don’t laugh. instead you turn around and dig through your bag pulling out a can of coffee and an energy bar, gingerly playing them on his desk.

“we’re both on class duty this week and the chemistry kits need to be brought down to class by the time lunch ends. we need it for our next class.” he stares at his wrist watch. he would rather use the last fifteen minutes of his lunch break to nap but he really didn’t want to forfeit the coffee or energy drink. not that you looked like you wanted it back. “i tried to wake you up earlier but you were kind of like a dead man walking. saying things like ‘five more minutes mom’ and ‘i’ll get up in a bit’.” matsukawa can feel the back of his neck heat up, rising to follow you out of the classroom and towards the science building. “figured you must’ve had a long night or something.”

“there’s absolutely no way you caught me fucking calling out to my mom. you should’ve just woken me up before everyone heard me telling me mom to let me sleep in,” he sighs, matching the pace of your step to walk next to you. “like, dude, that is so embarrassing.”

you turn your head and smile at him, he thinks it’s a little teasing but thankfully filled with no condescend. “actually for the most part the classroom was empty during lunch today, it was just me and secretary-san. everyone else went to go eat outside since the weather was nice.” you stated reassuringly, brushing hair behind your ears. matsukawa removes the hand he placed on his forehead with a sigh of relief. two people hearing him call out to his mother is significantly better than the whole class hearing it. “i don’t even think secretary-san heard you since she was on the other side of the room, but she most definitely saw you hung over your desk sleeping.”

“you shouldn’t call people secretary-san that’s, like, super impolite. also, if everyone else went outside to eat why’d you stay back? did you wanna watch me sleep or something,” he states matter-of-factly. turning his heel into the chemistry classroom making a beeline for the chemistry kits. he could still feel his neck burning, but he knows it’s because you’re digging holes into his back with your eyes. “or do you just, like, not have any friends.” you snicker behind him.

“you have to check the kits before you grab them; we need twenty four of them. also i’m not sure what the secretary’s name is. i was in a different class last year,” you say beginning to look through the kits separating the usable from the unusable ones. “and my friends got detention together and left me behind. some traitors they are.” you feign offense with the back of your hand to your forward and head tossed back. he notices a small beaded bracelet adorning your wrist, right under a thin gold one. you laugh at his raised eyebrows as finish separating the kits. he’s surprised to say the least, everyone in class one was the book nerd type who spoke harsh words behind whispers. at least to his knowledge anyways. he definitely didn’t think you would be this cheeky or friendly, especially not to the six feet tall monstrosity he was.

“why didn’t you just get detention with them. it seems more fun than eating by yourself, i think. i like to eat with my friends but apparently my dumbass fell asleep. i’ll probably get my ear chewed out during practice for it.”

“the most fun about doing things you’re not supposed to is getting away with it. plus i had to catch up on some other things so it didn’t make sense to leave and do something stupid just to get caught,” you say with a sly smile, struggling to mange the twelve kits you had split evenly between the two of you. he grabs your twelve including his silently, he wasn’t an athlete at a powerhouse school for nothing. “oh i see you are nice.”

“did you think i was some megawatt asshole or something?”

“maybe not megawatt, but, like, a twenty four watt asshole?” he snickers at that, following you into the classroom. “due to your kind act of charity, i’ll take it upon myself to take the notebooks to the teachers after school so you can head to practice early to get your ear chewed out, how does that sound?”

“absolutely fucking terrible, but much appreciated,” he says, sliding into his seat and cracking open the can of coffee you gave him. “thanks for this too, i’ll get you bread tomorrow during lunch to make up for it.”

“nah don’t worry about it,” you say, turning your head to greet two girls bouncing into the classroom stopping at your desk to complain about detention.

true to your word, you diligently collect and return the class notebooks that day after school. in fact you’re so dedicated to the task that you do it everyday for the rest of the week, never once asking matsukawa or complaining to him. matsukawa thinks you do it as to not bother him. he’s not entirely sure that’s the reason though, seeing as you’re pushing your desk next to his to share his literature textbook with him for the third time this week.

“sorry matsukawa-san, i forgot my literature textbook again. please do some charity work,” you whisper leaning over to look at the pages. you frown at his notes.

“you don’t sound like you forgot, also don’t judge someone else’s notes when they’re helping you,” he teases, looking down at you redoing his notes in a more orderly manner. small neat writing surrounds his messy illegible ones, highlighting what to look out for on the next exam. you’re wearing a gold ring with a jewel the same color of your beaded bracelet, small and dainty stilling on an even smaller middle finger. he sighs but he knows your notes have been helping him.

“between you and me? i definitely didn’t forget, i just hate carrying that heavy thing around.” you pause to look up from the notes, to his face and then back down. “maybe i’ll have you do it for me since you’re all big and tough, or whatever gender stereotype will benefit me.”

“you shouldn’t openly boast about being sexist.”

“what, you going to tell on me or something?”

“no but what’s the point in having me carry the damn book around if you have to walk home with it.” he’d rather you just not bring it seeing as no one else in his class talked to him and the most you talked to him was when you both were sharing his textbook.

“i do believe that is exactly why i don’t bring it, matsukawa-san,” you say dryly, returning to your task.

when the lunch bell rings you push your desk back and say your words of thanks, turning your heels to skip to your friends. he watches as the light hits your legs and the tights you always wear stretch around your thighs.

dirty bastard.

he turns and flees to takahiro, who makes fun of the blush creeping up matsukawas neck.

on friday afternoon, before issei leaves for practice he places two packaged rice balls and green tea on your desk. you open your mouth to say something but your friend beats you to it.

“oh? what’s this? a confession of love?” your friend pokes your cheek with a baby blue painted finger and shoots a smirk through her long eyelashes. she reminds issei of someone.

your other friend, one with dyed roots and glossed lips, pulls her back giggling saying, “hey c’mon now! you can’t scare him away, but it is an interesting approaching seeing as most people would just give a letter or something.” you sigh, shooting him a withering look of apology.

“na-chan, aya-chan, you can’t say things like that about people. it makes them uncomfortable. sorry matsukawa-san, what’s this for?”

“doin’ charity work i suppose.” you roll your eyes. “you should show gratitude when offered something, ya know?”

“oh? so this isn’t for the snacks i gave you the day i caught you slee-” he cuts you off by pulling up a chair to your desk. practice can wait.

“you are absolutely the fucking worst.”

“since you’re sitting here, share it with me i don’t like rice balls much.”

“i have practice.”

“you’re the one who sat down.” he blinks. your friends have already ran off yelling things about a part time job or something. you open both the rice balls and place one in front of him. “i don’t think you’ll get beaten if you’re a couple minutes late, at least i hope not. i think that’s illegal.”

“you’re just full of requests, huh? i might as well become make-a-wish with the amount of things i do for you,” he says mouth full of rice, towering over you even after sitting down. you sigh between small bites of the snack. “what? you don’t like umeboshi or something? why are ya looking at it like it’s defiling your throat.”

“not to sound ungrateful or anything, but i unfortunately am rather picky when it comes to food. but since the great matsukawa-san has blessed me with a rice ball i will thankfully finish it.”

“you’re so fucking annoying.”

“oh but i’m just too cute for you to let that bother you, isn’t that right?” you grin picking up your trash and grabbing your bag. “bye! i’ll see you tomorrow.” you leave before he has the chance to reply.

he leaves a couple minutes after you, heading to the third gym. he notices a pair of all too familiar tights-covered legs ducking in between the third and fourth gym. against his better judgement he follows.

dude, what the fuck. first you’re eyeing up your friend’s legs and now you’re following a girl behind the gym? get laid, he berates himself.

he watches the girl turn behind the fourth gym and he recognizes you by the charm hanging on the side of your bag. now he’s really curious. he silently leans against the wall getting close to the edge, but remaining out of sight. maybe it’s a really weird confession. he wouldn’t want to impose.

minutes pass before he actually hears anything but it wasn’t the confession he wasn’t expecting. sounds of you’re gagging fill the air. he has to stop himself from turning the corner and asking you if you’re okay, only being able to turn his head to look at you. fingers down your throat and tears down your face.

knot of uneasiness ties at the pit of his stomach as he turns and flees, knowing he saw something he shouldn’t have. the butterflies in his chest burden him knowing that he’s festering a crush on someone who hasn’t shared any part of herself to him other than her kindness. issei doesn’t like that.

after practice that day he stays continuing to abuse the gym floors hitting one volleyball after the other, trying to focus on the burns on his palms instead of anything else. oikawa and iwaizumi head out before him leaving him alone with the gym keys to lock up when he’s done. he doesn’t finish for another two hours and he only stops then because his body is about to give out on him.

matsukawa begrudgingly makes his way to the teachers room when he sees you fumble around, barely able to walk straight. his eyes widen when he sees you drop your bag and fall into the wall.

“fucking dumbass.” you hiss and pick up your bag.

“hey man, you good?” your entire body freezes, almost as if someone hit pause on you. he calls your name, panic creeping into his voice. “do you want me to carry your bag? i can walk you home.” when he goes to step towards you you swing your head back to face him.

“i’m fine matsukawa-san. have a good evening.”

he watches as your small figure, drowning in a big cardigan, stumble away quickly, never once turning back. he returns the keys to wall excusing himself, thinking about the chilling tone of your voice as he walks home.

he has no idea how to approach you after that, as the weeks pass by he avoids mentioning it, questions piling up in his mind. he knows you can tell that he’s antsy (there’s no way you don’t) around you, but you still keep polite conversation and share his literature textbook with him. sometimes you leave snacks on his desk, he always accepts them. matsukawas latest hobby has been lying face down on his desk during lunch to eavesdrop on your conversations. he tries to reason that he’s just tired but he’s so far deep he knows he’s lying to himself.

“do you think guys like clips?”

“i don’t think they care enough to pay attention to stuff like that.”

“really? i can't speak for dudes since i don’t have a dick-“ matsukawa almost blows his cover by laughing at your words “but i think they would appreciate a cute hair clip. especially on a girl he’s into.”

“i feel like guys should get into clips. i think they’d look good in them.” all three of them hum.

“wanna see if they do?” you say standing up, he can feel you hover around his desk. your friends giggle already connecting the dots, even he connected them. “matsukawa-san, hey matsukawa-san. are you sleeping? psst” you whisper close enough to where he can feel your breath on his ears. he stays silent. he watches your feet turn around, he’s almost disappointed.

“dude, he’s sleeping. you sure he won’t beat you up when he wakes up?”

“that’s a bridge i’ll cross when i get there.” you turn back around, thin fingers grabbing tufts of his hair gently as to not wake him up and pins them down. one. two. three. four. there’s two on each side of his forehead, he can feel them. “so aya-chan? na-chan? what’s the verdict.”

“his head is down we can’t tell.” your friend says, he assumes is the blunt one in your friend group probably the one you call aya-chan. he sits up. “looks like you’ve crossed that bridge though.”

“good luck, but i was right guys do look good with clips,” your other friend laugh, but before you can turn around to face mastukawa he grabs you by your waist and pulls you down. you end up on his lap and if he wasn’t too busy tickling you, he would question the promiscuity of his actions.

“you know it’s super impolite to mess around with people when they’re sleeping. it’s probably considered bullying.”

“ah! mastukawa-san! i can't breathe, i’m sorry! i’m sorry!” you can barely get your words out, getting get off between loud laughs. people look over.

“are you sorry?”

“yes yes now stop please.” he stops tickling you but still holds an arm around your waist, you make no movement to get off his lap either instead turning and grabbing his face to do a one over. “oh my god, na-chan you were right!” letting go to turn your friends, who shoot him looks of apology. “guys look super cute with clips on! hey matsukawa-san if you wanna seem less scary you should wear clips, not that i think you’re scary.”

“i’m always right, i religiously study fashion magazines. that’s why you two always look so hot.”

“ah thank you for your diligence. maybe if you studied your math textbook we’d be able to hang out this summer but someone has to do summer classes.” you giggle at your friends banter reaching over to grab your phone.

“hey matsukawa-san, smile!” pulling and arm around him you bring the phone up. he smiles and throws up a peace sign and take a couple pictures. “you’re being oddly agreeable with this. give me your line ID i’ll send these to you.” you hop off and face him.

“you just want his line ID.” of course you do, matsukawa issei is a complete stud and you want him.

“and? he’s going to give it me regardless of my intentions.” you pass your phone to him and he takes it from your hand watching the cardigan slip through your arm revealing bruises trailing under your gold bracelet. he catches you staring and quickly you pull up your sleeves to you palms. “look! sweater paws.”

“you’re stupid, here.”

“she’s not that stupid. she’s top of our grade, you know?”

“why are you bragging when you have to do remedial courses,” matsukawa deadpans, trying to figure out what to call them since he didn’t know their names and he wasn’t about to call her na-chan.

“oh, this is natsume and that’s ayasaki.” you say catching his frown as you remove the clips. he nods. “do you want me to get you clips you looked really cute with them. we can match.”

“should we get him sparkly ones? like blue ones,” ayasaki questions.

“oh! and some white ones? so it matches his volleyball uniforms?” you add on.

“absolutely not, i only did it because she’s cute.” pulling you back down, you melt into him. i feel so small next to him, maybe it’s because his huge. i like it. a lot.

“no means no. hanamaki would not let me live it down.”

“well would you look at this matsukawa went and got him a girlfriend!” it was as if he was cursed, turning to see the shit eating grin plastered over hanamaki’s face as he steps into his classroom. oikawa and iwaizumi behind, following him inside. “and you let her put clips in your hair? what a simp.”

“im not a fucking simp, i was asleep and she’s not my girlfriend.”

“she’s on your lap.”

“it’s a punishment for messing with someone that was sleeping,” matsukawa states matter-of-factly. he hopes hanamaki will drop it, but of course he won’t. it’s hanamaki.

“so who is this girlfriend-chan? is she cute?” oikawa asks circling around his desk to get a good look at you. he bursts into a grin and he says your name, your first name. hanamaki repeats it.

“oh dude you scored. good for you.” hanamaki pats his back, turning to engage in conversation with you. “do you remember me? i was in your first year class. we never talked though.”

“ah yes i recall you almost got held back because of your math scores,” you say looking up from your phone, matsukawa’s phone rings in his pocket. iwaizumi laughs.

“it’s good to see you again! we haven’t talked since, like, middle school. hi natsume-chan! ayasaki-chan! you three still together?” they both look up from the magazine natsume was pointing at.

“oh but of course. you and iwaizumi still married?”

“absolutely not i would never-“

“yes! we’re going on a honeymoon soon.” iwaizumi smacks him.

“it’s good to see the three of you, though. i didn’t know you went here,” iwaizumi says smiling.

“well that’s because your head only thinks about oikawa and volleyball, no?” ayasaki raises her eyebrows, you and natsume hum in agreement.

“oh my how romantic,” you coon. “are we invited to the baby shower?” matsukawa laughs into your shoulder pulling you closer. he feels you’re small frame, the bulky cardigan doing nothing to hide the bones he can feel brush against him.

“you know for a punishment you both seem to oddly enjoy yourselves,” hanamaki points out. “but, dude, you were super cute before but you’re so pretty now! what’d you do? cocaine?”

“not all of us have debaucherous hobbies hanamaki-san.”

it only gets louder between the banter of his friend group and yours, but he can’t focus thoughts piling up on after the other. when the lunch bell rings, matsukawa has a headache and it’s not from the noise.

“first of all? fuck coach for making us do two practice games in a row, like, i get it we have inter-highs when we get back in the winter, but this is fucking brutal.” hanamaki proclaims, feet dragging. “second of all, he’s making us practice tomorrow too. i might as well jump off the tokyo tower.”

“do a flip on your way down,” matsukawa says pulling his phone out to check his line. he texted you about his practice matches and hasn’t been able to reply since then.

“you said it yourself hanamaki, we have inter-highs coming up. we want to go to finals and to do that we have to practice,” iwaizumi reasons, but even his voice is drowned in exhaustion. oikawa whines and begins to complain about ushijima at finals and matsukawa tunes out, having already heard this seven times today.

[you, 12:13 pm] good luck at your matches today, hope u win straight sets so u can go home fast. -w-

[matsukawa, 5:11 pm] only won one of the matches but both went into a third set im so fucken tired.

you reply immediately.

[you, 5:11 pm] bruh that’s terrible make sure to grab something to eat. idk what nutritionists would say but i’m sure they would agree with me

“do you guys wanna grab something to eat?” matsukawa interjecting oikawa’s vent, raising his eyebrows.

“oh my god mattsun, you’re absolutely genius,” matsukawa shoots him a shit eating grin. “let’s get ramen?” oikawa finishes. iwaizumi and hanamaki nod in agreement, the three of them dragging themselves towards the ramen shop on the main street.

[matsukawa, 5:14 pm] you should eat too, have you had dinner?

[you, 5:15 pm] no but ayachan and nachan want to grab food before we head home. we went to a cat cafe today look. (one image attached) cute right >///<

before he gets the chance to reply he hears loud laughing coming from the street crossing on to the one the four of them were on down. maybe the day wasn’t so bad because you walk out laughing at something ayasaki said. he’s stunned. bewildered. whatever the fuck kind of emotion he’s feeling he knows it’s because you’re just so pretty. he’s a lot for words as he gapes at you, eyes wide like saucers.

“look who it is! hi guys!” natsume shouts, dragging you and ayasaki with her, your arms are all linked. he can’t move.

“wow, it’s you three again! you’re always together,” oikawa teases, jabbing an elbow into mastukawas ribs. “there’s your little girlfriend,” he whispers, matsukawa can’t even respond, he’s just so flustered.

“whatcha guys up too, anyways?” hanamaki asks when the three of you arrive in front of them.

“oh we were hanging out and we wanted to grab some food before we head home, you guys just get out of practice? you look so fucking dead,” you ask shooting them looks of pity. oikawa sighs, about to respond when mastukawa reaches and brushed your hair behind your ear.

“you cut your hair.” and it looks good.

“in fact i did.” a blush covers your cheeks almost hidden behind the glow of the setting sun. maybe i’m talking to an angel, matsukawa thinks. “thoughts?”

“you look gorgeous.” matsukawa can’t even stop himself. when he catches what he says he coughs and turns away flustered. howling shouts come from hanamaki, iwaizumi and ayasaki.

“he’s right though, you look delightful. we’re going to get ramen do you guys want to join us?” iwaizumi asks, shooting a smirk to matsukawa. he doesn’t even have time to be panicking about the situation because ayasaki, of course, agrees.

when all of you are seated along the L-shaped bar in front of the cooks, you lean in to speak to matsukawa. you both are seated at the corner next to each other which was done intentionally by hanamaki and ayasaki. “why are you guys slaving away at practice anyways during summer break anyways? does the coach have a bounty on you or something?” you’re playing with your fingers, watching the server place your meal down in front of you.

“honestly dude,” he stops to let out the heaviest sigh you’ve ever heard. “i think at this point, irihata and oikawa teamed up to put us through hell and back.”

“homie you completely ignored my question, why?”

“oh shit my bad. we’re trying to get to get to finals, you know? inter highs start up right after summer break and oikawa has a bone to pick with the shiratorizawa captain.”

“so you guys are feeling the fruits of his planned revenge?” matsukawa nods, resting his face in the palm of his hand. you shoot him a look of pity, reaching over to pat his head, his hair is so soft. “don’t worry i’m sure you’ll get your revenge, if not you can call out for your mom again” matsukawa’s face flushes and he grabs your wrists pulling you in.

“you. i thought we agreed to never mention that again,” he hissed under his breath, looking around to see if any of the other third years were eavesdropping. they weren’t. “i thought we had an agreement. i thought we were comrades. i thought-”

“matsukawa-san, matsukawa-san shhh! i’m sorry it’s fun to tease you. i promise i’ll make it so only i can make fun of you for that.” you giggle. “since we’re comrades and all.”

“i don’t wanna be your comrade anymore.”

“here take my gyoza and stop pouting, you’re cuter when you’re smiling.” you reach over and place all your gyoza into his bowl shooting him a blinding grin. “but that’s not to say you’re not cute when you’re pouting.”

“if i’m cute, what are you?” you frown, is he calling me ugly. he waves his hand through the air as if to will away your thoughts. “not like that. you’re pretty, pretty fucking cute.”

“you know, you sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.” you watch him eat as you poke at your own meal. he eats well, you smile. as the seven of you finish up your meals, you excuse yourself to the restroom. matsukawa thinks it’s suspect considering most of your bowl is full, so he follows you.

you know man your reputation for a full on creep is just expanding.

as he steps into the bathroom he seeks you hunched over, cursing spilling past your lips along with the food you forced down. you freeze, turning to look at him as he locks the door.

“i’m almost positive breaking into a bathroom is some kind of crime,” you state as if matsukawa didn’t just see you force yourself to throw up.

“i’m fully aware i’m not supposed to be in here, but i got worried, sue me.” you raise your eyebrows as him resting your arms on the toilet seat. he grimaces realizing you’re sitting on the bathroom floors. in a public bathroom. “also if you’re going to go to the bathroom as least lock the door.”

“it sounds like matsukwa issei already knew about this.”

“stop talking about it like it’s a joke.” matsukawa says grabbing tissues to wet them and pass to you. ”at least get defensive or something. i had my suspicions, saw things i shouldn’t have. i’m sorry about that.”

“don’t apologize you didn’t do anything wrong. i’m sorry for worrying you, but i don’t see this as anything of your concern.” you reach over to take the napkins from him, but he instead cleans your face for you. wiping away the spit and tears gently.

“wash your hands.” his voice left no room for argument, so you wobbled your way over to the sink and finished cleaning yourself. when you finish and turn to face him he lifts you on to the sink, trapping you in between his arms. “it’s not my concern but i’m going to concern myself with it. you’re hurting yourself.”

“so what, i’d rather hurt myself then have other people hurt me because of the way i look.” you're eyes are glassed over avoiding his and your voice is shaking, the raw emotions spilling out in contrast to your deadpan face. you guess that’s why you’re attracted to matsukawa, you’re both hide behind laid back personalities storing away a barricade of feelings gently stirring and building up. “don’t involve yourself with me anymore. i know it’s just going to be another weight on your shoulders. you’re too caring to pretend like you didn’t see it.”

“you don’t deserve that, there’s nothing that warrants this and you know that.” matsukawa sounds desperate, you know that he probably is. “i won’t let other people hurt you, i’ll protect you i promise. so please don’t push me away.”

“you’ll protect me huh.” you lean back against the mirror to look up at him. “what does that even mean.” he blinks.

“well actually i don’t know yet, but i want to figure it out with you. i want to support you and help you because i don’t want you to be alone in this, you know?” matsukawa was fumbling his words, he was nervous he couldn’t make you stay but he hoped to every god that you wouldn’t walk away. “like, i know i don’t know what to do, but i’m willing to try and figure it out. i know it’s gotta be lonely especially when your friends are bent over backwards for magazine models, and like, dude, i like you so much and i just-”

“matsukawa-san”

“yes”

“are you confessing to me in the bathroom of a ramen restaurant?” matsukawa nods, shamelessly. you think this is the most matsukawa confession to exist, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. the boy you pined over since first year found out about your dirty little secret and didn’t turn you way. he offered his and and wore his heart on his sleeve for you, who are you to turn him away. “i don’t know where we would go from here either, but i’d like it if we figured it out together.” matsukawa leans in closer to you, grabbing you by the back of your neck gently and pulling your face into his before you can object. when you break away your frown deepens, “you just kissed me with vomit breath.”

“it’s okay you’re the person i’ll kiss with vomit breath since we‘re comrades.”

“you shouldn’t call your girlfriend comrade, it doesn’t give me butterflies.”

“oh? so you’re my girlfriend now?”

“what, you don’t wanna date me?”

“oh absolutely i do. i’m honored to have the pleasure of being your boyfriend.” matsukawa teases as he pulls you down. your reply gets shut down by a wave of texts that blows up matsukawa’s phone.

[hanamaki, 6:03 pm] ayo casanova wya dude ???? are you getting your dick sucked in the bathroom that’s dirty she’s too cute for that anyways we paid and we’re heading out >.< stay safe muah

[iwaizumi, 6:05 pm] we left but you’re going to have to explain yourself tomorrow.

[oikawa, 6:06 pm] mattsun!! tell us about your salacious bathroom endeavors tomorrow at practice <333

you follow him out of the restrooms, leaning over to look at his messages and laugh, point to your phone which shows a string of messages of similar nature from ayasaki and natsume.

as you and matsukawa walk hand in hand down the streets of miyagi you can’t help but notice the butterflies blossom from the pits of your stomach exploding towards your beating heart.

“i’m thankful you’re the one who found out i don’t think i would want it be anyone else.”

“i wouldn’t want it to be anyone else either.”

as the twinkling street lights cheered you on, you stepped forward towards the future knowing you had matsukawa to lean on.

#matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei #haikyuu x y/n #haikyu x reader #issei x y/n #tw eating disorder #tw purging #idk bro don’t read this #i hate this for real #/mattsun

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heyitsdoe · 3 years

Text

Dearly Devoted | Charlotte Katakuri x OC Chapter 2

Words: 7.2k

<- Chapter 1

Yuna knew the very moment the ship sailed across the waters' unseen boundaries into Totto Land's territory. The brisk, salty sea air that had accompanied their 7 hour journey disappeared with a gust of strong wind. Replacing it was the sugary scent of candy and confectionary goodness, a tantalizing hint of the promised paradise that Big Mom's country was said to be. No matter how you tried to mask it, the sweetness settled in and stuck in your lungs. It felt like breathing through a bag of cotton candy. Even the giant container of caramel they'd brought along with them as part of the agreement didn't carry as strong an aroma as this.

The waves settled from the plunging and rolling currents they'd encountered on their way here, calming as they grew closer to the heart of Totto Land. They had yet to see any of the islands that comprised the Yonko's territory, but given the laden sweetness in the air, she was sure they were nearing one of them at the very least. The heaviness of the air weighed on her, especially given her long-sleeved, floor-length gown that covered her from head to toe. The pastel pink gown had been specially made for this trip, in order to make a good impression on the Yonko who had agreed to protect their small country. Now, it simply felt stifling.

The crew of seamen sailing the ship all kept on alert, watching in all directions for any sign of approaching vessels. It was only half of the usual crew a ship like this would carry, plus half a platoon of castle guards, at Yuna's insistence. Her father and Daigon himself had adamantly vied for her to be accompanied by 2 full platoons of castle guards in addition to the full crew sailing the ship, but she had adamantly refused.

"We are already in a state of vulnerability. Reducing our numbers by so many just to escort me is absurd." She'd said, then gave a hard stare at her family members. "And you all will be staying here. We can't leave our people without their leaders in a time like this."

It had caused a full-blown argument, one that Yuna had eventually won out of pure stubbornness, but Denji, Genji, and her father had all realized that she spoke a good bit of truth even if they didn't want to hear it. To leave their people without troops to protect them and their leaders to guide and reassure them, they would be doing more harm than good. Denji in particular had stormed out of the room looking especially livid, and she wondered if she had somehow cracked the relationship they held.

The one compromise she had been forced to accept, like it or not, was that Daigon himself would see her safely to Big Mom's territory. She had grumbled and fretted about it, but he was nearly more stubborn than her and had been steadfast in making sure he personally saw this duty through until she was safely to her destination.

Standing on the deck down beside her, the man in question grimaced, covering his nose with clear distaste just as the princess spotted what she thought to be a ship on the horizon. Yuna looked his way, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"Never really liked candy..." He muttered with a small shake of his head. "Gives me a headache, this air. It's suffocating."

Unable to help him in any way, Yuna turned back to the water before them. The shape in the distance was indeed a ship now that she had a better look, and before long a second silhouette joined the first, making a beeline for Seiiki's vessel. The men around her gripped their weapons a little tighter, and she gave a quiet sigh.

"Remain calm." She spoke above the gentle wind, drawing the eyes of those intent on protecting her. "They're expecting us. There is no need to be so nervous."

"We're dealing with an Emperor of the Sea." Daigon stepped closer, eyes never straying from the approaching ships. "One can never be too careful."

"I understand, but if fear is the first impression we display, it will only serve to make us seem more exploitable." Yuna replied evenly, keeping her voice steady even as her heartbeat quickened in pace. "We represent Seiiki Kingdom, and I know our navy is comprised of courageous men. Let's show them that bravery instead."

The men exchanged unsure glances, but eventually they did appear to settle themselves. Either for her sake or the country's, she wasn't sure. Her hands clasped down in front of her dress, they squeezed together as the two ships that had been sailing towards them now slowed. Turning in place until they were stationed on either side of their own vessel, the sails once again unfurled, and they picked up speed to keep pace with Yuna and her escorting crew.

A majority of the other ships' crew were comprised of chess-styled soldiers, standing at attention at the railings. Those clearly in charge stood out from sheer height alone and their calm expressions. A tall woman wearing an insanely wide-brimmed hat stood with crossed arms on the deck on one ship. Yuna spotted a sword on a sheath around her waist.

The other was helmed by a barrel-chested man with a strong jaw and half-blue, half-pink hair. Could this be her groom? Yuna still had no clue who Katakuri might be, and wondered when they would introduce him to her. This man seemed unlikely to be him, given he didn't bother glancing in her direction whatsoever.

With the escort ships on either side of them, they continued sailing inward, passing by several islands off in the distance. It was hard to pick out details so far away, but anything recognizable was generally something of the food variety. Even the waters changed color from beneath their ship, the deep blue fading into orange and pink in a stunning display.

Totto Land was already living up to it's name of a paradise, and she hadn't even stepped foot on land yet.

The island in question they were headed towards came into view from off in the distance, the high-rising cake-styled architecture catching and keeping the princess' attention. The pink striped cake-like building that dominated all others in sight was quite a marvel. The crew of her ship muttered to themselves, not having expected to see such a wonder. Nothing in Seiiki Kingdom was that large.

Yuna looked down from the massive structure to see their ship approaching a large port, the middle dock open and assumably reserved for their arrival. A large ground party awaited on the shore, more of the chesspiece soldiers surrounding the area and towered over by a much taller, important-looking person.

Docking was a quick affair, her own crew coupled with the dock workers awaiting them to haul in meant the entire process was expertly finished in a matter of a seconds. Yuna closed her eyes and took a steadying breath as the boat lurched from the stop, the constant sway and rock of the sea halted as the ship was roped and securing in place. Daigon remained at her side, the half-platoon of soldiers from her country taking up loose formation around her as she stepped to the railing.

"Stay close to me." Daigon muttered, making it clear that he wouldn't be leaving her side no matter what happened. Even so, he allowed her to be slightly in front of him to display her own authority. And though Yuna had fought against him accompanying her on this journey, she was suddenly very thankful to have him at her side. He was a steady rock to cling to in these swirling tides of change, no matter how much shorter he may be in comparison to her.

The tallest in the crowd below, a white-haired woman dressed in a leotard who was clearly descendant of the long-leg tribe, stepped forward to address those onboard. "Welcome to Whole Cake Island. You must be the princess we've been waiting for."

"Thank you." Yuna replied, looking down at those who'd welcomed them. "I am Onegama Yuna, eldest and sole princess of the Seiiki royal family."

The woman gave a nod. "I'm Charlotte Smoothie. I hope your journey through our country was pleasant."

"It was very beautiful."

"That is good to hear." She gave a small smile. "I'll be escorting you to the castle. Your guards, however, must stay aboard your ship. We cannot allow armed men to come through our country so freely."

Yuna felt the sweet-scented air turn sour and tense around her, the crew bristling with suspicion. Daigon growled under his breath in rebellion to such an idea. But the Princess hadn't come this far to cause such trouble now. "I understand."

"Princess-" One of the seamen started, but she held up a hand to halt the rest of his concern.

"The Captain of our Navy also serves as my retainer on this journey. I must insist that he remain at my side." She said politely, voice keeping surprisingly even despite the circumstances. Her years of public speaking lessons were coming in handy now. "And I ask that our ship not be boarded for the duration of our stay. Our countries are not yet allied, and it would put my mind at ease to know that they are left alone until their departure."

Smoothie thought for only a moment, before giving a curt nod. "I can accept these conditions, so long as your people show no aggression towards us." One of her crossed arms gestured to a large, ornately-decorated candy carriage that sat waiting behind her. "My people will take the caramel offering to the castle as well. Please follow me. Mama does not like late guests, and there is much to be done before the wedding."

Yuna lifted her chin and made her way towards the now-lowered gangplank, followed closely behind by Daigon. His face was set in hard lines, eyes flicking back and forth among the chess soldiers but always returning to settle on the giant of a woman that was Charlotte Smoothie.

Her feet touched upon the wood of the dock, behind her the combined crew of Totto Land and Seiiki both worked to haul the large caramel container down with them. Stepping closer to the Charlotte daughter, it was then that Yuna realized Smoothie was a good 4 or 5 feet taller than herself and it made her stop walking entirely from shock. Smoothie noticed the strange behavior and frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just...I've never seen someone who was taller than me." She answered honestly, feeling the need to voice this incredible discovery. "It's a bit of a surprise, frankly."

Smoothie's mouth lifted in a grin, and she gave a pleasant laugh. "Wait until you meet the rest of my siblings, and Mama herself. You'll be even more surprised."

The two Seiiki residents climbed into the carriage that was somehow just Yuna's size. One plush seat placed in the middle was large enough for her to comfortable sit, with three other normal-sized seats surrounding it. Daigon sat in the one directly across from her, eyeing the empty ones with curiosity. The design seemed too customized to be coincidence.

"I suppose they expected His Majesty and the princes to attend."

"Naturally, one would be accompanied by their family at a wedding." Yuna agreed with a quiet sigh, feeling the carriage lurch as they began making their way towards the castle. The empty seats were an uncomfortable reminder that she was going into this alone, though it was through no one's fault but her own. She'd insisted on going by herself, not wanting to risk the safety of the citizens any more than was absolutely necessary.

Through the window, she watched the many chess soldiers and Smoothie walk beside the carriage, looking relaxed and calm. Daigon suddenly cleared his throat, head turning to face the window. "I'm sorry, Princess, I shouldn't have said anything."

"It's alright. You meant no harm in it." He still refused to look at her, perhaps ashamed that he'd caused her to view her situation in a more negative way. When he didn't respond, she looked at him with a critical eye. "Is something else the matter?"

"It was not my place."

"Not your place? Daigon, you simply commented on the seating. There is no need to feel guilty about something as inconsequential as a passing comment."

He gave a scoff and shook his head, which made her frown.

"It's more than that, though. It's...None of this is how it should be. This is not what our kingdom's Princess' wedding should be." He replied bitterly, hand clenching in anger. "Your father should be at your side. Your brothers too, not a lowly captain of the navy. You haven't even met the man who-"

"That's enough."

The seaman looked at her in shock at the harsh bite in her tone, the harshness very unlike what he was used to coming out of her mouth. Realizing just how sharp her quip had been she closed her eyes, relaxed her furrowed brow, and composed herself for a moment.

"You are no lowly captain. And while I may have wanted to have my family at my side on an occasion like this, there is no other person I'd have beside me in place of them. It's my own fault they are absent. I insisted on it." Her gaze settled past him out the window again.

"This marriage will bring peace to our country, which is all I can ask for."

"But-"

Yuna held up a hand to stop him. "Everyone has these lofty expectations for what my future life should have been, but I've never spent my time dreaming up fancy dresses or sparkling venues. I've known something like this might be what I was destined for. So I've made peace with it." Her expression took on a rueful smile. "Besides, in the grand scheme of things, this is perhaps the only sort of wedding I'd ever have anyway. It is doubtful a man of our country would have me."

"You are beloved by the citizens." Daigon countered with widened eyes. "There are many men in Seiiki who respect and no doubt love you dearly."

Yuna gave a sad chuckle. "What man would want a giant for a wife?"

"One who doesn't care of such things as physical appearance." He said, unsure of how else to respond, but not wanting to acknowledge her self-depricating comment. The carriage was plunged into a heavy silence after that, the sound of the chess soldiers' steps filling the space and easing some of the tension.

Wanting a distraction, Yuna settled with taking in the city as they passed by. Daigon had informed her of some basics of Totto Land in the hours before they'd arrived. This place must be Sweet City, the capital and most wealthy of all the islands. The cake-inspired architecture looked good enough to eat, and she realized one probably could if they so chose, after witnessing a young child take a sneaking lick of one of the outer walls of a building before running off in order not to get caught.

She'd never seen such fantastical colors used in building design either, the many pinks and yellows perfectly capturing the essence of a birthday party that never ended. With a name like Whole Cake Island, Yuna assumed that had been the intention.

Citizens of Totto Land watched with innate curiosity as the escort passed by. Such a variety of faces gazed back, smiling and happy. A few even waved. People of all shapes and sizes, races and colors. Seiiki Kingdom had always been a diverse place, welcoming former slaves from any walk of life, but Totto Land was in a league all it's own, many races of which she'd never laid eyes on before.

The princess leaned her head out of the carriage window, looking ahead to see the massive pink structure that was their destination. A door dozens and dozens of meters above her Yuna's own height bore the jolly roger of Big Mom herself. The closer they came, the more it seemed to loom threateningly above them.

Chastising herself for making things seem worse than they no doubt were, Yuna sat back in her seat, folding her hands in her lap to give them something to do. Her heart hammered in her ribcage, the reality that she was so close to meeting her future husband had gotten her in a cold sweat. Tugging at the sleeves of her dress to make sure her skin was covered, her eyes darted to Daigon, who shot her a grim smile in way of reassurance. He'd always been adept at reading her emotions.

"Do I look ok?" Came her sheepish question, suddenly worried about such a trivial thing. Really, she wasn't sure what had overcome her, but she felt like a child again, hoping to look her best for the ball in the vain hope that one of the boys her age would ask her to dance.

"Princess, you're lovely as ever." He replied, reaching over to put his smaller hand on top of her own. She flashed him an appreciative smile.

The carriage slowed as they came upon the large entrance, until it stopped completely. Yuna and Daigon were assisted out of the carriage by a few of the chesspiece soldiers, though they weren't able to offer much help to Yuna who stood twice or in some cases three times their height. Her long skirts brushed against the ground, and she was lead forward by Smoothie.

The Charlotte daughter spoke with the two guards stationed at either side of the kilometer-high door, who spoke with someone else on the inside through a snail communicator. They waited only a moment before a deep groaning indicated the doors were opening, slowly revealing the darkened interior of the receiving foyer inside. More chesspiece soldiers stood to either side of the long center carpet that enticed them further within.

"Big Mom will want to see you. She is waiting in the throne room." Smoothie said. Yuna looked around at the stone interior of the castle, impressed with it's general size. She didn't want to fathom the amount of time it had taken to build. All her life she'd thought her own family's castle was large, but this took the cake. Ah...pun intended, she supposed.

Smoothie took them through a few turns in the castle hallways, guards posted at every corner and every 10 feet or so. Yuna couldn't tell if this was their typical security or if their anticipated arrival had warranted a bigger display of strength. She highly doubted it, given the low political sway her country actually had on a world scale.

It did serve to put Daigon on edge, having resorted to staring at everything they passed with narrowed eyes. She appreciated his diligence, but hoped they wouldn't take his behavior as hostile.

The loud and rambunctious laugh of a woman further in caught Yuna's attention, and despite the possibility that it could have come from anyone, she had a distinct feeling she knew exactly who it belonged to.

"That's relieving. Mama's in a good mood." Smoothie suddenly muttered. Whether she'd intended for Yuna to hear it or not, the seafoam-haired princess wouldn't know.

With one last turn, they found themselves in a wide and spacious throne room, the walls striped with various shades of pink, and a plethora of desserts stacked around the center throne. It nearly sent her into shock to see the foods all had faces and were moving on their own, singing and talking amongst themselves.

Paradise, indeed?

But what trumped even that was the figure sitting on the throne, the large and imposing woman who'd been laughing joyously before they'd walked inside. Her general color scheme of pink wasn't doing her many favors but with a reputation like hers, Yuna knew better than to voice those thoughts aloud. The Princess had never imagined facing one of the legendary Yonko and so had no expectation as to what to feel. The sheer power this woman emanated was staggering.

Even so, Yuna was here for a very important reason, and did her best to school her features into a polite neutrality.

"The bride! The bride! She's arrived!"

The desserts all chimed in singsongy voices while Smoothie lead her directly in front of the throne, dancing and swaying in place as Big Mom's gaze swept over the newly arrived troop of people.

Smoothie gestured to the guests she had escorted there. "Mama, the Princess of Seiiki and her retainer have just arrived."

Mindful of her manners, Yuna lifted the edge of her skirts just enough to perform a respectful curtsy, careful not to show any semblance of skin beneath. Another shrieking laugh overtook the obese woman, and she leaned down from her chair to get a better look at them.

"I want to personally thank you for accepting my father's proposal." Yuna started with much respect, truly thankful that her people's safety had been secured because this had all worked out.

"Ma ma ma ma! Well, just look at you. So strange to find such a tall human outside of Totto Land." Big Mom marveled. Unsure of how to respond, Yuna kept quiet, allowing the ruler to inspect her for however long she wished. Her discriminating gaze was terrifying. "Are you perhaps part giant, my dear?"

"Not to my knowledge." Yuna said, hands going back to clasp in front of herself. "We're unsure why I-"

"Ah, no matter. A wedding will be enough!" Big Mom waved a hand dismissively, pleased smile still place as she regarded her daughter and the princess. Then her smile stilled, eyes searching for something nearby. "And where might the king be? He's not late, is he?"

The Princess gave an apologetic bow. "Regrettably, he was unable to accompany me here. Our island-"

"Unable?" She asked with a dangerous glint taking over her eye, her smile fading to settle into a displeased frown. Yuna felt Daigon step closer, feeling the shift in mood quite plainly. The Princess, however, kept her head bowed. "He couldn't find the time to attend?"

"Seiiki's security situation is very fragile, Your Majesty." Yuna wasn't sure how else to address the Yonko, and opted for what she was most familiar with. "We felt it would be too dangerous to leave our country leaderless in a time like this. If anything, this highlights how important an alliance with Totto Land is to my people."

The tense atmosphere didn't lift, however, even after several seconds of silence. Yuna swallowed down the fear that she'd angered the Yonko in their first meeting. But then Smoothie stepped forward, taking over the conversation.

"Mama, they have also brought the promised tribute of caramel. Would you like to sample it?"

A gasp made Yuna look up from her bow, finally straightening as Big Mom's face lit up in an instant. "Caramel? Oh, I've been looking forward to tasting them all day! Bring them forward!"

Yuna, Daigon, and Smoothie all stepped to the side to allow the chesspiece soldiers to carry the large container of caramel closer to the throne. It took 8 of them to simply carry it, and Yuna now understood why her father had insisted on sending so much. Anything less would be nothing to a woman as large as Big Mom.

The container was set onto the ground before her, the soldiers bowing and scuttling back to be out of the way. The Yonko leaned down to lift the lid of the container and took a large whiff of the contents. "Mmm! They smell lovely!" A pudgy hand reached in to take a handful of the caramel squares.

In a display unbefitting of an esteemed ruler, Big Mom opened wide and shoved the entire handful of caramel into her mouth, surprising the Princess and the Navy Captain. Both were careful not to show it, though a glance around the room made it clear that this sort of thing was a normal occurrence. Even Smoothie simply stood there, arms crossed as she watched her mother engorge on the sweets.

"Ohhh! Delicious!" Big Mom finally cried through her chewing, eyes practically alight with stars. "Such a small island creates such amazing treats? I could eat these all day long, heavenly sweet caramel..."

After another handful or two of the sweets, she seemed to calm down enough to come to her senses. The irritation from before had also disappeared, and the Princess had to wonder if Smoothie had interjected intentionally to keep things pleasant.

"It's unfortunate the King could not be here for the special occasion, but I suppose there is no helping it. The caramel and the bride are here, at the very least. That's what's most important!" Big Mom cried out, eyes closed in bliss.

Yuna wondered to herself which between the two sat higher on her priorities, but chose not to voice the question. She had a feeling she knew the answer.

Her eyes opened and she gazed down at the green-haired princess. "I suppose you'd like to meet the person you'll soon be married to. Isn't that right, my dear?"

The Princess' hands gripped themselves tighter, mounting curiosity and apprehension purging all else from her mind. Who was her groom? The name Katakuri had been ingrained in the back of her skull since her father had received a reply back. Her mind had desperately tried putting together a portrait of what the man might look like, but to no avail.

Would he be understanding of her strange height? Was he as compassionate as her father? Or as practical as Denji? Perhaps he was soft-spoken like Genji, or even as guarded and cynical as Daigon. In an effort to not be disappointed in whoever she may be forced to marry, she hadn't solidified any expectations thus far. Though now with the answer so close, she was near to her breaking point.

Yuna nodded, unable to hide her eagerness to have all of her questions answered. "I'm truthfully very nervous."

"Ahahahahaha! Ma ma ma ma! As expected." Big Mom grinned with mirth, setting a hand on her own cheek delicately. "But I'm sorry to tell you, he was sent out this morning on a pressing matter and hasn't returned quite yet. So you'll have to wait a bit longer to meet with him."

Her shoulders fell, the excitement dulling somewhat to hear the news that her groom was not currently present. A hollow settled in her chest, disappointment filling the space. At this rate, she would not know what he looked like until she walked down the aisle to marry him.

Her gaze lowered to the ground. "I see..."

"Mama." A deep voice interjected from the entrance, and those in the room turned to see who had spoken.

Taller than even Smoothie, a broad-shouldered man entered the throne room. Yuna found herself staring at his intense, red eyes from above the fluffy scarf that covered the lower portion of his face. They bore into whatever he looked at, and she found herself wondering how insignificant she would feel under their direct attention.

Her eyes finally traveled lower to the bare muscles that toned his body, the unbuttoned vest doing very little in way of keeping modesty. Yuna's fingers shifted to grip the hem of her own sleeve. Red-pink lines adorned the right half of his chest, rising up to his shoulder and on to the upper half of his arm.

Each of his steps was accompanied by a metallic ching, and she looked down to see spurs attached to his boots, black pants completing his punk-esque style.

"Ah...Katakuri!" Big Mom called out with glee, holding out her hands in a welcoming gesture. "They didn't tell me you had returned."

Katakuri. Yuna froze, posture stiffening as her husband-to-be came to stand in front of Big Mom's throne not far from her. Just as Smoothie had, he stood several feet above her. Any questions she had about her height being an issue was thrown out the window. The ridiculous thought that she wasn't tall enough now crossed her mind. Such a problem had never presented itself in her entire life.

"I only just arrived back." He responded in a deep, resonating voice that made her clench her fingers together. Dear lord...Staring would have been rude, despite already having done so when he'd walked in, so Yuna faced forward to look at Big Mom instead. She tried her best to hide the fact that his appearance had her reeling.

He was not at all what she'd expected. But truthfully...not in an entirely terrible way.

"Have you dealt with those nasty intruders?" Big Mom asked of her son, and he gave a slow nod.

"They weren't much trouble at all. It was foolish of them to cross into our territory to begin with."

"Good, good! Now that the ants have been squashed, we can begin preparations for the wedding." The Yonko's hands clapped together with glee. Then, with a pleased grin, she swept her hands to Yuna. "Meet your lovely bride, Katakuri. She's almost as tall as you! How lucky!"

His head turned to look at her, eyes gazing down from his superior height. She met his with as much composure as she could manage, not entirely able to hide the heat from her cheeks. She'd been right. Those red eyes of his kept Yuna in place and held her there as he inspected her with...interest? It was impossible to know.

This would soon be her husband, it was best to leave a good first impression. And without having seen his face in it's entirety, overall she was still flustered and rather pleased to see her groom was not unpleasant to look at. The Princess managed a small smile and nodded. "I'm-"

"Yuna." He interrupted, eyes closing for a moment. But before they did, she could have sworn they glowed a brighter red. She blinked in surprise. "I wouldn't be so quick to say you're pleased to meet me."

Her mouth was left opened, having been about to say that very thing. "How-"

"Advanced observation haki." He explained before she could even ask. "Future sight, if you wish to call it."

Yuna blinked, expecting another interjection from the man, but when one didn't come she hummed. "I see. Well, I am pleased to meet you, regardless."

He simply stared at her, whatever he might be feeling hidden away behind those intense eyes. The conversation came to a complete halt, Yuna unsure of what else to say and Katakuri offering no lifelines. Oh dear...This wasn't exactly what she'd been hoping for when they first met, but at least there wasn't open hostility.

Daigon shifted in place beside her, but she ignored it, knowing that he was growing impatient and irritated with Katakuri's behavior thus far. His opinion of how she should be treated much more in line with her kingdom's respect of the royal authority. Here, she got the feeling things weren't quite so rigid or formal.

Big Mom's thunderous laughter broke the moment. "Ma ma ma ma! There are so many things to prepare! My dear, why don't you see yourself to your guest room, and the seamstresses will prepare you a dress for the wedding tomorrow."

Yuna turned to look at the Yonko in surprise. Tomorrow? "I didn't realize it would be so soon-"

"Oh, I can practically taste the wedding cake! The frosting, the moist spongy cake..." She sighed aloud, finally shooing those in her throne room away with one hand. "Off you go, then. Peacekeepers, please show the Princess to her room. I must talk with Streusen about the wedding cake!"

Yuna glanced up as Katakuri turned in place, leaving the way he'd come. Not a word was said in departure, nor a glance in her direction. Their first meeting had been sudden and unplanned, and perhaps he too wasn't sure how to handle it. He disappeared behind the doorway out in the hall, his spurs clinking with each step.

"Princess Yuna," a small voice below her called, and she looked down to see one of the rook peacekeepers giving her a small bow, "if you'll follow me, I will show you to your room."

_____________________________________________________________

"That is your groom?" Daigon spouted into the spacious, peach-colored guest room they'd been shown to, pacing a furious circle in the floor space between the four-post bed and where Yuna was seated at the huge, white vanity. He was loud enough that the guards posted outside their door would have been able to hear, but apparently he didn't care. "He's a brute!"

"You know nothing about him. Just as I do." Yuna said with a sigh, leaning into her crossed arms over the back of the chair. The whole thing had left her drained and she wanted nothing more than to sleep in the bed that lay only a few meters away. It looked soft and comfortable, and most importantly, her size.

"Just look at him!" The Captain continued working himself up. "Unrefined, distant, callous...the man's the size of a mountain!"

Daigon caught Yuna's eye as he spat the last part, but then seemed to realize what he'd said. His incredulous expression softened. With an awkward clearing of his throat, he stopped pacing, standing firmly in the middle of the disturbed path he'd made into the carpet. "Then again...his large size is a good thing for our dear Princess."

"Perhaps he's simply nervous." Yuna offered, accepting the verbal olive branch the seaman had attempted to extend. "It's likely he has as much choice in it as I do. I didn't know what to do with myself in the moment either."

"Yes, but you minded your manners and remained polite. I'm not certain he has any to begin with." The leather-clad seaman grumbled, crossing his arms in disappointment. With a heavy sigh, his head shook. "As you said, there's no changing it now. I can't help but wish they had someone else to match you with, though. Maybe someone who actually wears a shirt..."

"I'm sure things will work out."

"Hmm. I'm sure." His tone left room for all of the unspoken doubt.

A loud knock sounded against the door, and before either of the occupants could respond, it opened to reveal a team of a dozen or so women, all of varying heights from average to nearly as tall as Yuna, holding large bolts of white fabric and other sewing instruments.

"Where is the bride?" The head seamstress-a round woman with a head of frizzy orange hair-called out, gaze searching the room until they landed on Yuna. "Oh! There you are my dear! We must get started on your dress right away! There is no time to dawdle! Up, now! Up!"

"Oh, uh, ok..."

The woman's hands were a flurry of motion as she stepped forward to beckon the Princess out of her chair, another two of the women dragging it away to provide them more room to work with. Daigon was forced to press himself against one of the posts of the bed in order not to be trampled by the team of busy women, most already setting up sewing stations and a mannequin stand that matched Yuna's height.

Daigon tried spotting Yuna around the mass of constantly moving women, who had dragged her to the center of the room to stand atop a small circular platform they had brought with them. "Princess-"

"The bride must undress! Out, now!" One of the seamstresses demanded, her hand gesturing in a shooing motion. "No men! None!"

Yuna shot him an apologetic smile, trying to ease his worries. "Daigon, I'll be alright. Why don't you get some rest in your room next door?"

Her suggestion wasn't to his liking, but he knew that he could not be in the room while they undressed her anyway. He gave a dutiful nod, before heading to the door to the hallway. "I will be close by if you need anything."

The door shut with a thump a moment later. After the last preparatory checks, Yuna felt a sudden pair of hands clutching the strings that tied her dress together at the back of her neck. The nerves that had settled in her stomach upon their arrival shot up several degrees, and she reached behind her to halt the woman's attempts at undoing them.

"Wait, please..." Yuna muttered, somehow stilling the flurry of activity that was the seamstress team, their attention on her entirely. The sudden stillness was overwhelming. "Do not ask about what you see, and I beg of you, don't speak of it to anyone."

Several of the women gave each other confused glances, but finally nodded their agreement. And finally Yuna let go of the hands behind her, allowing them to loosen the fabric enough for it to be removed, though now at a much less furious pace.

The Princess' eyes closed as several of them gasped aloud. Her hands clenched in anticipation of their speculatory whispers or blurted questions of what had happened, but as promised, none of them asked or even commented on what they saw.

With a bit of shimmying, Yuna was entirely free of the gown and left standing in the middle of the pack of women in nothing but her undergarments. Yuna's hands reached up to hug her arms, vulnerability settling into her posture.

"Straight back, no slouching!" The head seamstress urged, a hand guiding the Princess' back into the angle she wanted, which forced her to drop her hands to her sides. Yuna finally opened her eyes, noticing that the women worked as diligently as before, barely paying attention to her body at all. That alone helped to ease the distress in her chest. The multitude of questions that they began to fire her way also served as a suitable distraction.

"Lace or satin?"

"Uh...satin."

"How many feet would you like the train?"

"It doesn't need to be very long..."

"Would you like sequins? Or floral?"

"Neither."

"Do you have a request for the style of the dress?" The head seamstress asked her suddenly, and Yuna nodded.

"Yes. I don't want any of...this, visible." She gestured to her body as a whole, and the orange-haired woman nodded, calculating gaze already designing the gown in her head.

"Hmm, very well. Traditional satin, no train and long sleeves with a high neck." She then turned to the others and tapped her clipboard where her notes were written down. "Ladies! Get to work!"

The next several minutes were spent raising her arms, standing still as they took measurements of her waist, arms, shoulders, hips, and legs. They chattered about about fabric and cinching, and other dress-related terms that flew by her head from the speed alone. They were nothing if not efficient, especially if they hoped to create her wedding gown in a single evening.

_____________________________________________________________

It was late into the night. The moon sat high in the sky overhead, clouds nowhere in sight to obstruct the view. The open window let in the constant scent of sugar that lay heavy in the air, but after so many hours spent in Totto Land, Yuna had begun to grow desensitized to it.

She sat at the window seat, a plate of half-eaten food beside her on the cushion. After such a whirlwind day, one would think she'd be starving, but nerves prevented her from stomaching much at all. With a sad look at the wasted food, she sighed and picked up the plate to bring to the table beside the door. She was sure the chefs would take care of it when they brought her breakfast the next morning.

Turning back to sit at the window, she caught sight of the luxurious white gown on the mannequin beside the vanity. It truly was a beautiful dress, soft and smooth, and traditional enough that she could imagine it having been made in her own country by their own seamstresses. It made her wonder if they knew anything of Seiiki's culture and had designed in with the intention of borrowing from it.

Yuna stopped herself from going over and stroking the long sleeves that dangled from each side. In fact, she turned away from it entirely and sat again at the window, watching from up high on the city below.

Lights dotted the windows in the home and shops. The citizens would not be in attendance of the ceremony, at least to her knowledge, so she wondered if many were celebrating the night before in their own way.

Right. A celebration. This was supposed to be a happy occasion. And in many respects, it was. Beginning tomorrow, her country would be under the protection of a feared Yonko. Raiders would think twice about attacking their navy and any that approached Seiiki's shores. The constant fear of attack would fade from the citizens until it was a forgotten memory of a time long passed. Peace would descend upon the land, and those freed from past bondage could begin to look only to the future.

But Yuna couldn't entirely dismiss the pang of sorrow that lurked on the edge of her heart. In the privacy of solitude, she let herself feel the negative emotions in full. She wiped away the tears that sprung from her eyes with the long sleeves of her pajamas, provided to her by the seamstresses before they'd left.

Practically alone in a foreign land, set to marry a man she'd met for all of 2 minutes. It didn't matter how many times she told herself this was something she'd come to expect as a Princess. It didn't matter that she'd presented the idea to her father. Yuna was afraid, deep down. Afraid that whatever happened come tomorrow, she would ultimately regret sacrificing this choice for the sake of her people.

Chapter 3 ->

#one piece #fanfic #romance #slow burn #arranged marriage #princess #devil fruit #multichapter story #eventual smut #katakuri x oc #whole cake island #charlotte katakuri #oc

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snkpolls · 3 years

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SnK Episode 61 Poll Results (for Manga Readers)

The poll closed with 359 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results for the Manga Readers’ poll. If you wish to see the results for the Anime Only Watchers’ poll, click here.

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RATE THE EPISODE 347 Responses

While this episode wasn’t as big of a hit as episode 60, overall most viewers still enjoyed the content and are looking forward to more next week!

amazing amazing! I'm so delighted with this season so far!

Im so beyond pumped i love everything

Dissapointing but acceptable.

I’m like angry I loved it so much.

I just wish we didn't have to wait a week

It was amazing. We all gotta apologize to MAPPA for ever doubting them.

It's a huge stepdown from episode 1. At times the animation was straight up painful to watch. My expectations were low and yet I'm still disappointed :/

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING WAS YOUR FAVORITE SCENE/MOMENT? 349 Responses

Reiner-centric scenes were the highest on people’s radar, with 24.9% of respondents enjoying his reunion with the warrior cadets, and not far behind, 22.9% enjoyed Reiner bringing up the 104th at the dinner table. In third, with only 13.5%, was Pieck and Porco’s formal introduction to the audience.

Hearing Zeke greet his grandparents with such happiness warmed my heart. I do believe that he loves them.

They just had to add one last image of Ymir's broken face before she died, huh? :(

WE FORGOT TO ASK LAST WEEK D: WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES/MOMENTS FROM EPISODE 60 WAS YOUR FAVORITE? 348 Responses

Last week we forgot to include what your favorite scenes were. The scene from episode 60 that got the most favor was Reiner’s, “I’m sick and tired… of walls” with 33.6% of the vote. 16.7% most enjoyed Zeke’s titan transforming scream. 14.9% were hyped about Reiner and Porco wrecking Fort Slava.

MAPPA WENT ALL OUT WITH THE CINEMATOGRAPHY IN THIS EPISODE. WHAT DID YOU THINK OF THE CINEMATIC PANS AND ROTOSCOPE ANIMATION? 349 Responses

Overall, a total of 74.5% respondents have positive feelings about MAPPA’s use of rotoscope animation and camera panning. Some felt like it was akin to watching a movie, while others are just happy to have the dynamic movement. A smaller amount of respondents didn’t have feelings one way or another, and a minority (about 10.3%) really are not a fan of this type of animation style for the series.

It felt odd sometimes as they used it for long scenes (like Udo talking or Gabi telling the story to her family) but overall it was pretty great and I prefer it to WIT's stale animation during season 3

I liked the more dynamic movement during dialogue, but my roommate found it super awkward and off-model. So a fifty-fifty split in a sample size of two lol

It could have been animated better, but I like the extra dimension it gives to scenes

Enjoyed it a lot! However, there were a few scenes that felt a bit off, like some frames were missing. Specifically, when Udo was doing all those gestures while talking with the rest of the Warrior Candidates.

It felt dynamic to the point of looking unnatural - some gestures and expressions just moved wrong

i'm split, in some scenes it was great (like reiner waking up), but in the dialogue scenes the constant movement seemed kinda unnatural and distracting

It was amazing but at the same time I'd didn't look fluid enough, especially at Udo's mouvements which made the character look kind of...video game-ish in constant moving.

I thought it looked great the rotoscoping,the movements all looked amazing

The animation during Urdu’s scene is so cool! I was caught of guard at first though lol. It’s so realistic!

NOW THAT WE’VE GOTTEN TO HEAR A LITTLE MORE OF THE NEW OST TRACKS, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE SOUNDTRACK SO FAR THIS SEASON? 344 Responses

So far, reception to the newer music is overall positive. 31.1% are really enjoying the music and think the songs are being used immaculately, and 40.4% really feel that the song choice compliments the scenes they’ve been used in. 13.1% think the songs are good, but miss having that sole Sawano feel to them. 10.8% just feel the music is “ok” and 2.6% aren’t a fan of the new OST tracks so far.

I mean it sounds good, but we haven't gotten to important moments that require a memorable track, so we'll see!

First episode slapped because it really complemented the scene but it's more... generic. I didn't like how it was used in this episode, there wasn't enough of it and again, generic. I miss Sawano's unreal scores.

the animation absolutely blew me away, and i love the intense music that played during Reiners monologue

The music is fine.

I've heard both new and old songs from the previous seasons. Still too soon to make an opinion as we need to hear more.

I am deaf, I can't hear no damn soundtracks

That music guys when they came back to Liberio and reuniting with they parents, made me tear up but also because the scouts never had the chance to go back home with victory in the arms of their family, I wish I could have seen EMA like this.. It kinda felt unfair X) but I was happy for them nevertheless.

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE CLOSEUP OF ZEKE’S MOUTH? 346 Responses

Our first of probably too many crack questions in this poll, 32.7% thought the closeup of Zeke lighting his cigarette was cool looking. 21.4% are concerned about Zeke’s lung health. 19.1% are probably annoyed with us and simply don’t care (lol). 13.3% wouldn’t mind smooching Zeke, and 11% were just plain grossed out.

Does smoke even affect a titan shifter? Surely his lungs just heal themselves

ASMR for the eyes, right there. Aww yiss

It was awesome! Zeke is shown as relaxed person with a big drop of mystery.

Smoking Bad but he is gonna die in a year anyway

Suuuuuuucc

It might've just been an artistic choice to include it in there, but i gotta say I'm oddly fascinated and idk why

I don’t remember it lol

I didn't even notice.

Zeke looks hotter than he has ever looked

WHAT’S YOUR OPINION ABOUT ELDIAN ASSES? 341 Responses

Most of the responses seemed to feel rather positively about Eldian asses, with almost 40% seeking out Zeke’s ass wiping technique. About 17% simply stated their appreciation for them, while almost 13% are just thirsty. In contrast, a little over 17% seemed confused to the question’s inclusion and about 10% were confused outright.

MAPPA WHERE IS PIECK'S ASS

More into Eldian thighs, really

I bet Levi’s is nice

If only Eren had one

zeke has the energy of a straight man who doesn't wash his ass

Only Shadis' ass

GIVE IT TO ME 😏😏

They are like normal, human asses. Do not turn them into some magical, special snowflakes, just because they belong to Eldians.

Seek help

Enough

DO YOU WANT REINER TO GIVE YOU A HEAD PAT? 343 Responses

A definitive majority, almost 59 percent, openly expressed enthusiasm for the prospect of a head pat from Reiner. However, a near 30% fraction of responders didn’t seem too happy about this recent chain of less than serious questions. We’re sorry about that. 😅. The rest either didn’t seem interested in said prospect or noted they wouldn’t care either way.

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THE DECISION FROM MAPPA TO CONDENSE REINER’S FLASHBACK INTO (PRESUMABLY) A SINGLE EPISODE? 346 Responses

It would appear that the majority of those who took our poll express cautious optimism at the prospect of seeing all (or the vast majority) of Reiner’s backstory being adapted into a single episode, with a near 47% supporting the move, thinking it could make the narrative “more coherent”. Almost 20% argue it would work better pacing wise. On the flipside, just over 17% state that they would rather have a more accurate adaptation to the manga. 11.6% simply say they have no opinion. There were also more than a few write-ins.

I do wish everything could be animated to full detail, but pacing and structure will benefit here

They've done a good job so far, so I'll reserve judgement until I actually watch it.

It will be difficult as they're chapters with loads of dialogue, but they can pull it off if unnecessary stuff gets cut out or changed in some type of way (like watching Marcel's death for the sixth time, them breaking through the wall or even Jean and Eren fighting)

If they get the pacing right, then the rearrangement will be for the better.

Reiner flashbacks + Reiner suicide attempt + Falco meeting "Kruger" (more than 2,5 chapters) in a single episode? HELL NO! WTF MAPPA!

Worried and cautiously optimistic.

At least it looks like they're going to stick to just one episode for the RBA flashback. It was mostly just filler anyway, so there was never any need to stretch it out and waste precious time getting back to the Paradis side of the story

I doubt that that's exactly how it is, but if so, then I don't think that that's a wise idea

It’s gonna be rushed as hell

Reiner flashback is very long and there is tons of dialogue, so I dont know how its going fit in only one episode, but if they can make it work then its fine for me

WHICH CHARACTER DESIGN DID YOU LIKE BEST IN COMPARISON TO THE MANGA? 346 Responses

This question gave us a somewhat evenly split pie chart, but Porco nonetheless managed to gain the bigger piece with just over 55%. Surely due to that bomber jacket and haircut. Nearly 45% picked Pieck (gottem) instead. Must have been the somewhat inconsistent nose.

WHO’S SEIYUU DID YOU LIKE BEST? 335 Responses

On the flip side, 68.4% seemed to prefer Pieck’s soft voice. Porco with his (how the hell does Porco sound like… how can you describe his voice) managed to win the hearts of 31.6% of responses.

Pieck voice wtf? I imagined Pieck with a more Hanji-ish voice, not this sweet and high pitched.

DID MAPPA DO PIECK’S NOSE JUSTICE? 345 Responses

The debacle over Pieck’s POWERFUL nose gave us quite a colorful pie chart. Almost 39% of responses noted that Mappa was on point with Pieck’s nose for most of the episode. Afterwards, 26.7% stated that they thought that Mappa got it right only in some points of the episode. On the flip side, another 26.7% thought that Mappa was generally quite on point throughout the entire episode. A small minority (7.8%) thought that Mappa simply did a poor job.

The animation is good, and while I don't want to complain, I have a small problem with the drawings themselves. I feel like they lack precision (like Pieck's nose, idk if that's clear).

I'm grateful for Pieck's nose. I always respected Isayama for drawing imperfect characters, because this way he has made them to look more realistic. Even though Pieck has so-called imperfect nose, she is still absolutely gorgeous. Her imperfections are part of what makes her beautiful and unique.

PORCO’S HAIR - WERE YOU TEAM RED HAIR OR BLOND HAIR? AND ARE YOU HAPPY WITH HIS ANIME COLOR SCHEME? 345 Responses

A far less controversial debacle concerned Porco’s hair scheme. The folks supporting a Blond color scheme were universally content with his hair color (all 57.4% of team Blond). On the flip side, an almost universal approval was also present from team Redhead (13.6% of those supported his blond hair color). 27.5% of the responses seemed to care not about this issue at all, however.

NOW THAT WE KNOW PORCO BETTER IN THE MANGA, DO YOU THINK HE WOULD HAVE *ACTUALLY* DONE A BETTER JOB THAN REINER IF HE HAD INHERITED THE ARMOR AND WENT TO PARADIS? 348 Responses

Porco inheriting the Armored Titan is a rather interesting what-if scenario. Perhaps of the most interesting as a whole, so it’s no surprise to see a rather divided opinion of those who took our poll. A little over 36% believe that Porco doing a better job than Reiner on Paradis is a definite possibility. Just over 24% believe it’s not likely Porco would have done better than Reiner. On the flip side, 21.6% think that is is likely Porco *would* have a more successful conduct on the island. 9.2% believe that Porco’s success is a given and in opposition to that, 8.9% think that Porco’s success would have been basically impossible.

HOW ABOUT IF PIECK HAD GONE TO PARADIS WITH THE WARRIORS? 346 Responses

Much less division here, however. 70.5% of responders believe that Pieck’s possible trip to Paradis (in the initial attack) would have not have resulted in a given “mission success” for the Warriors, although she would have been a rather useful ally. Nearly a quarter, on the other hand, think that Pieck’s inclusion would have ended the story right then and there. The rather small minority of the other responders think that Pieck would not have been useful had she participated in the mission.

GABI HAS ALWAYS BEEN A CONTROVERSIAL CHARACTER. HAS MAPPA BRINGING HER TO LIFE CHANGED YOUR FEELINGS TOWARD HER? 342 Responses

64.6% of respondents overall have positive feelings toward Gabi as of right now, with 39.5% having already been enjoying her character throughout the manga. 25.1% now view her more positively with her being brought to life. 20.2% don’t really care about Gabi either way, and 11.7% feel very negatively toward Gabi, without the anime swaying their opinions.

Gabi still sucks

Sakura ayane as gabi is probably the best thing to happen to me all year

WITH SUCH A DIALOGUE-HEAVY ARC, CUTS WERE INEVITABLE. WHICH CUTS WERE YOU DISAPPOINTED IN, AND WHICH CUTS CAN YOU LIVE WITH?

Overwhelmingly, the scenes that were most missed by manga readers were “Pieck walking on all fours/scaring Porco”, “Zeke mentioning the Ackerman Clan”, “Reiner’s smirk when his family talks about ‘Island Devils’”, and “The imagery of Eren and Armin wrecking ships”. Smaller character details, such as Reiner mentioning how he acted like Marcel on Paradis, Gabi wishing to understand Reiner’s feelings, Falco pointing out how Reiner almost had the Armor taken from him, were also very missed by manga readers, although just less so.

General Calvi talking about Zeke’s loyalty, Gabi getting praise from her parents when they reunite, and Magath trashing the Marleyan navy, were moments that many respondents didn’t feel strongly about one way or another, or felt that these were details that weren’t really needed anyway.

Cutting the scene where Falcon talks about why Reiner kept the AT was really bad. Also the table scene could have been better. Some imagery when Reiner was describing the 104th and his smirk.

The cuts the anime has done made the spectators less informed about some story background stuff. This is in order to direct attention to the marley's eldians planning how to overcome the world's disparagement towards the power of the titans.

I'm sad they cut the gate guards. They humanize the marleyans a bit. Hope they add their scenes next episode and do them justice.

I hope we will get the Gabi/Reiner talk about understanding each other through PATHS when she eats him next episode

Gimme crawling best giiiirl

MAPPA cut Pieck's ass so this episode wouldn't be so ass centered with Zeke's ass wiping technique. This is my theory lol

Great episode but U was so looking forward to the Reiner scene talking about Paradis “devils”. In the mange it was a powerful scene really adding to the duality of Reiner and the pain he has, and the animation did not do it justice. Plus some parts of his speech were probably hard to understand for a non mange reader without the flashback. (Like which one is referring to Jean for example). I really wish it had been better delivered

IS THERE ANY CHANCE WE’LL SEE SOME OF THESE CUTS ANIMATED IN A LATER EPISODE? 342 Responses

them into different scenes. Overall, the majority answered a big, fat, “maybe.” 15.8% are confident that what’s done has been done, and 12.6% are more optimistic that MAPPA will find a way.

Overall I was a bit disappointed. I feel like the amount of material cut from every conversation included really added up overall and gave it a very rushed feel to me. I really hope they add it all in later.

ON THE FLIP-SIDE, WHICH ADDITIONS/CHANGES DID YOU LIKE/DISLIKE?

The changes and additions that MAPPA made were overall viewed very favorably, with the scene of Porco and Pieck interacting with the warrior cadets being the most liked addition. This is followed closely by the overall character movement during dialogue scenes, the small detail about Pieck’s father being unwell, and Gabi shouting “Watashi!” on the train.

I loved the additional details made it very emotional

IT WAS A GREAT TIME TO BE GALLIPIECK TRASH

Sneakier Eren's a nice addition too

Porco my boiii I'm so happy he's here 💖💖💖💖 if mappa is adding some extra scenes then gimme more of gallirei 👀

WHICH SCENE FROM THE PREVIEW ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? 338 Responses

Unsurprisingly, 42% of respondents are hyped about Kenny’s brief return and Annie’s unlikely encounter with him in the Underground. 22.2% are eager to get that sweet Reiner angst as he is rejected by his Marleyan father. 17.8% are looking forward to Reiner’s training days.

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

great! it was inevitable they would cut stuff but it hasn't changed any major plot point or thing i would want to see desperately

It was just really great to see the scenes animated, it adds another level of depth and understanding to the story I believe.

Loved anime-onlies missing Eren completely. Some even thought it was him but then noticed the leg and thought against it

I think it was very well done. Just need a little getting used to with MAPPA on the reins now. I think MAPPA added some scenes to show how those Eldians over there are still just human after all and they have their own problems to deal with. 8/10 episode.

I feel like they took a lot of emotion way from reiner. made him seemed stoic and determined to go to the island even though in the make he looked scared about having to return.

I thought the rotoscoping was really well done! I’m happy with the pacing, the fact that the episode felt like it went by fast is good considering it was dialogue based.

Incredible. The direction, the cinematic quality, we are feasting. MAPPA is elevating the story beyond anything I could have imagined! I'm beyond hyped for the rest!! But where is asshole Marley guards/Hobo!Eren's appearance as a favorite moment?!

Incredible, it adapts the source material very well while adding some touches that make it unique in it's own way. As a manga reader, I'm really glad that they're doing this because it feels like a completly different experience from reading it and makes me excited on what changes or directing choices they're going to make during the course of the season, great job so far MAPPA!

Such an amazing episode. Made 20mins feel like 5. MAPPA is doing fantastic. The characters have never felt more alive and the animation style is something I never knew I wanted until now.

I can't believe they didn't cast Mads Mikkelsen to voice Mads Mikkelsen

The episode was good but the dinner scene didn't do justice to the manga. It didn't have the same feeling to it. I saw a lot of anime onlys thinking Reiner was just trying to talk shit about the 104th. I feel like the flashbacks during that part in the manga gave it a nostalgic feeling that helped convey what he truly felt about his time on the island. His facial expressions were not quite there either. Specially sad because it was the moment I was expecting the most this episode and because it's a big part of Reiner's character, maybe next episode can kind of fix this.

I haven't seen the anime only poll results, but given personal conversations with them I imagine quite a few could care less about the Warriors and are looking forward to the 104th showing up to stir shit up. Boy are those folks in for a treat :)

I knew I'd feel more attached to all of them once they got animated. I didn't expect getting real thirsty for Lainah.

I was so happy with how much detail MAPPA put into the background scenery. Also, I think that an underrated moment during this episode was the Marlian douchebag triggering the Eldian soldier’s PTSD. You could really feel their terror, and THEY KEPT THE HOBO EREN PART IM SO HAPPY!

Its consistently very pretty and well animated which is great of course, but I worry the team won’t be able to maintain this quality for some of the meatier scenes in the later episodes. The fast pace of the episode (compared to the manga) as well as the many cuts make it a bit harder for scenes to stick, I wish there was a bit more breathing room at times. This also makes the fancy animation and frequent rotoscoping cuts feel less impactful for me—with every scene being cut down to its core ingredients, and every scene having at least one cut with more motion and energy than we’re used to, I can’t help but feel it all kind of mashes together without sticking out as much, leaving less of an impact. (I feel really really weird actually complaining about good camerawork/animation, what the hell lol) Also hobo <3

Plenty of questions about ass but no questions about the full ED? Or how we thought the episode did at hiding Eren in plain sight?

rip Reiner's chocolate abs :'(

The episode wasn't as interesting as the first one. I was yawning from time to time. Yet, I think that Mappa did a great job, because it's hard to animate full of dialogues chapters. I was disappointed of the fact that flashbacks from Paradis have been cut. I hoped to see Sasha, Connie, Ymir and Marco while Reiner was speaking about them. Without the flashbacks we just got the dry speech and this way hard to say what Reiner is really thinking about people he met on Paradis. We - as manga readers - already are aware of his feelings, but anime onlies may not know and see Reiner as cold hearted person. I'm not complaining over animations or the OST tracks because no studio is perfect and some small mistakes here and there won't destroy my fun. I just sit and enjoy the episode.

Very good, with the exception of the dinner scene, in which the director missed the mark completely with the tone.

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 328 Responses

Thank you again for participating! We’ll see you again next week!

#snk poll #snk polls #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk #aot #snk s4 #snk spoilers

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pikapeppa · 4 years

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Pikapeppa Tutors: How To Write A Longfic

Greetings, friends! I am Pikapeppa (queenofkadara on AO3), and today I’m writing a little tutorial about how to write a longfic.

Before we dive into it, first things first: how do we define a longfic? In a nutshell: there is no fully agreed-upon answer. Different people define it in different ways. Word count is often used to define a longfic, but I don’t think that’s sufficient; furthermore, there is literally no agreement whatsoever about the word count required to count as a longfic. For the purposes of this tutorial, I will define a longfic as a multi-chaptered fic with a complex plot, and which is the same length or longer than the Great Gatsby - i.e. longer than 47k words.

Given this definition, I have completed 10 longfics, and I have completed 7 more multi-chaptered fics with complex plots which are <47 words. This is the experience I’m drawing from for this tutorial, and please be warned in advance that I have no formal writing training, so if you want advice from someone with formal training, then, it’s, er, best to look elsewhere. 😅 Please also note that this is based only on how I personally write longfics. Others might do different things, but this is just my method, which has successfully allowed me to finish every project I’ve started.

For me, writing a longfic involves following the following steps:

Know the endpoint of the fic.

Make an outline.

Write the chapters in order.

Easy, right? NAH, BRO. It can be tough! But let’s break this all down piece by piece. Then I’ll address the final topic of editing and actually posting the fic.

1. Know your endpoint.

One question I’ve received is how to think long-term for a story rather than one chapter at a time. My biggest and most important piece of advice for a longfic is this: know how you want the story to end. Does your main couple live happily ever after, or do they have a terrible sad breakup? Is the villain defeated, or do they escape to wreak havoc another day? Does your character make a startling realization that spurs them to change, or do their flaws lead to their downfall? The endpoint doesn’t need to be specific, and you don’t need to know how exactly it come about. But you need to know what the most important part of your ending will be. You should know the target that you’re aiming at before you start writing. If you know the ultimate goal of your story, you can keep that in mind while writing each of your chapters so that they serve that ultimate goal.

The nice thing about this advice: if the longfic you want to write is a retelling of a canon game/show/whatever through your OC’s eyes, then you already have the endpoint. I will call this kind of longfic a “novelization”, and this constitutes 4 of my 10 longfics. Because the endpoint is already given to you by the canon game, novelizations can be a great way to ease into writing longfics, and a great way to practice the various elements of writing a longer story such as pacing and developing relationships, since the main plot points and conclusions already exist. Similarly, if your longfic idea is a fix-it fic because you didn’t like the ending that the canon game gave you, the endpoint is already still there: you know the alternate ending that you want, and every chapter you write can be geared toward building up to that ending.

On more than one occasion, I have put aside a fic idea I liked because I didn’t know how the story was going to end. On the flip of this, I have written an entire plot knowing nothing but the endpoint (*cough* the entire Arlathan Forest arc of Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me *cough*). So this would actually be my #1 piece of takeaway advice: before starting a longfic, know how it’s going to end. This way, you have a clear goal that the rest of the fic can aim toward.

2. Make an outline.

A number of people have expressed concerns about outlines. How much of the story should be outlined before writing? How strictly do you need to stick to the outline? How important is it to have an outline?

I totally understand the anxiety about outlining. If you’re more of a pantser than a plotter, outlining can be tough. I personally am far more of a plotter, though I have also had the experience of flying by the seat of my pants before (see above aside re: Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me). All I can tell you is what I usually do and what I would advise. As a quick summary before I dig into it, though, I would say this: The outline can be as detailed or as vague as you want/need it to be, and it should be fluid.

Step 1: Throw down all your ideas in no particular order.

When I’m just starting to develop a fic idea, the outline is literally just a dumping ground of all my ideas so I don’t forget them. It contains everything in no particular chronological order including plot ideas, character traits, big moments in the romantic relationship that I want to hit, and so on. Really, then, the outline starts off as just a place to brainstorm, with no particular structure needed.

Step 2: Organize the ideas sequentially.

Once I’ve got all my initial ideas down, I’ll start organizing them sequentially, preparing for the order in which they’ll arise in the fic. If you write on a computer, this is easy to do just by cutting and pasting events in your doc; if you’re more of a visual organizer, it might help to print or write all your ideas on slips of paper and stick them up on the wall so you can move them around, like what Jane the Virgin does.

By the time this step is done, the outline should, at minimum, consist of a series of events/ideas/conversation snippets etc. that are ordered by when they happen in the story. It could have further organization beyond this, too, if that helps you; for example, almost all of my stories are romances, so they have headings like “Who is Rynne Hawke”, “Fenris psychology”, and “Major relationship moments”. The amount of organization you do at this point is up to you. All that matters is that you start organizing the chaotic jumble of ideas and putting them in order of when they happen in the fic.

Step 3: Break the events into chapters.

Once my events are generally ordered, I’ll start dividing the events up chapter by chapter based on what I think would be reasonable chunks of plot/relationship development. Importantly, this remains fluid through the entire writing of the fic. I don’t think I’ve ever stuck to the number of chapters I originally planned; I always end up breaking chapters up, or moving things from a later chapter into an earlier one or vice versa, and it works just fine for me. All of this is because The outline is not set in stone. There is no reason things can’t change in the middle of the fic or be moved around as needed. The outline should be thought of as a tool to store your thoughts so you don’t forget, and to organize them in order to help you make your way toward that endpoint.

It’s also worth noting that my outlines become more and more detailed as I get closer to the chapter in question. For example, if the story is 15 chapters, I might only have a couple lines of plot points for the last 5 chapters when I start writing. By the time I’m coming up on those last 5 chapters, I’ll have a much better idea of what will happen in them since I know what plot points and relationship points need to be wrapped up, and I’ll thus be able to add more details and ideas to the outline. Again, this calls to the outline being fluid and changing as the story goes on. It is not set in stone.

As a final note about this, if the fic is really long, such as Lovers In A Dangerous Time (67 chapters total and >500k words), it is ABSOLUTELY NOT NECESSARY to have the entire story mapped out or to know exactly what’s going to happen in the later chapters. All you need to know is your endpoint, and to have a vague sense of what might happen in those later chapters that will serve the endpoint of the story. Again, this all calls to the outline being a memory and organizational aid rather than a strict and inflexible sequence of a events.

In sum: the outline should not be thought of as a strict roadmap for your fic. It is a tool that helps you make your way toward the ultimate endpoint of your fic. It allows you to store and organize your thoughts, and it is perfectly fine for it to be fluid and to change as the story goes on. It can be as detailed or as vague as you want, and the amount of detail in it will likely depend on whether you’re a plotter or a pantser. Outlines are never set in stone, and there is no one best way of outlining! The outline is there to help you, not to intimidate you!

3. Write the chapters in order.

Now, I suspect that this point might raise some objections, but hear me out. Writing a long story is a labour of love, but it is still labour. In any longfic, there are going to be parts that are less fun to write. There are also going to be parts that you are REALLY REALLY JAZZED about writing, and you will want to get straight to those parts and write them because you’re psyched about them. The reason I’m suggesting that you write the chapters in order is to spread out the “work” and the “fun” evenly through the process. If you evenly distribute the less-fun and more-fun parts, then you can use the “fun” bits as a treat for yourself to get yourself through the less-fun bits. You’re basically using your own project as a reward for creating that project, and honestly, there is nothing more satisfying than getting that kind of intrinsic motivation from your own work.

For example, I hate writing battle scenes. So when the fic gets to a point when I have to write a stupid battle scene, I keep my eye on the prize and tell myself something like: “okay, just finish this battle scene, then you can reward yourself with the fun after-battle banter or smut.”

Here’s another way to think of this: when you’re reading a story, anticipation is key. The buildup to the main event, whether that main event is a big character reveal or the First Kiss/First Fuck, is so important. If you’re reading a story, you don’t want to jump straight to the chapter where the reveal or kiss happens. You want to build up to the big moments when you’re reading a story. Why wouldn’t you want to build up to them as a writer, too?

There are more practical reasons to write sequentially, too. If you write the fic in sequence, it may be easier to keep track of what you’ve done and to know where you’re going next. It can also happen that while you’re writing, you come up with new ideas that you hadn’t thought of when you first started the fic, and those new ideas can have a huge impact on later events. But if you’ve already written the later events, it can be more difficult to incorporate the new idea into what you’ve already done.

This is not to say you can’t write BITS of later chapters/conversations and hang on to them for later. There absolutely is room for writing when the inspiration strikes. I’ll often have an idea for a conversation or a smut scene that I can’t use until later, so I’ll just write it down and throw it into the outline until the appropriate moment arises. For example, in Lovers In A Dangerous Time, there is a very angsty conversation between Fenris and Hawke in chapter 63 that I had plotted out in point-form about 3-4 months before I actually wrote the chapter. I plotted out the most important lines of that conversation WAY ahead of time, but I forbade myself from writing the scene in detail until the rest of the fic up to threat point was written.

TLDR: Writing sequentially helps you to reward your story writing with your own story. It allows you to build anticipation for your own story, and it lets you stay flexible and open to new ideas that arise during the process. You can and should write bits of the fun chapters, especially so you don’t forget them, but I strongly suggest saving them and rewarding yourself with them for when the proper time comes.

Okay, those are basically my three big steps in writing a longfic! Now to talk a little bit about editing and posting. These are not so much advice as just a little bit of my own experience, and what I’ve seen/heard others do.

Editing: a few remarks

I post my fics chapter-by-chapter, which means that I edit and clean each chapter to my satisfaction before I post it. My personal editing process usually involves three passes: a first read and edit, which involves the most changes; a second edit which involves more tweaks than big changes; and a final read before I post, where I try and often fail UGH to catch typos or subtle errors.

It is not necessary to do it this way, however. I know some people prefer to write the whole story, then go back and edit it from the start. This makes total sense, really; this way you can make sure your events are cohesive, and that you haven’t left any loose ends untied that you might have forgotten about. I would say this is a matter of preference, but I wonder if your writing speed might also play a role in this. I’m a fast writer, so I don’t usually forget what I’ve done earlier in the fic by the time I get to the end. But with Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me, which involved a month-long break at one point, I did find myself having to go back and reread old chapters to refresh my memory. So if you’re a slower writer, you might find it helpful to write the whole story, or at least big chunks of it, and then read it through for cohesion before you start to post.

Posting: a few remarks

As I mentioned before, I post chapter-by-chapter. One question I’ve been asked is whether to stick to a posting schedule, or to post when you feel like it. I have done both, and I think either choice is equally valid. All I can really do is explain my experience with this.

When I was a relatively newer writer, I was hardcore obsessed with Horizon Zero Dawn and I was posting a chapter of my Aloy/Nil longfic every day. It wasn’t just my obsession driving this, but also I was getting comments and kudos every single day on every chapter from hungry readers since it was a relatively rarepair at the time. It was basically a crazy feedback loop of me providing fic and getting a lot of comments and then being spurred to keep feeding my own obsession and provide more fic.

Nowadays, however, I stick to a weekly update schedule for my longfics, and I have a lot of reasons for this. For readers, I get the sense that weekly updates give them something to look forward to and helps build anticipation for tense moments in the fic. It can also give readers some time to digest the previous week’s chapter before receiving the next. I also get the sense that for writers who update and write a lot [points at self], if a reader gets a million update emails from a writer, it can be overwhelming and make the reader feel guilty about not staying up to date with the writer’s works, and there is nothing I HATE more than having readers feel like it’s homework to keep up with my writing.

My reasons are more selfish, too. I’ve discovered that if I post two chapters on the same day, many readers will only comment on the second chapter. If I space out the posting, I get more engagement from readers, and since I, like all writers, am a whore for comments, I’ve learned to purposely hold on to my chapters and space them out in the hopes that more people will engage with me when they read them. THERE, YOU ALL KNOW MY DIRTY LITTLE SECRET. PLEASE DON’T JUDGE ME.

Another note on posting schedules and engagement, specifically relating to AO3: when you search in AO3, by default, the results are organized in terms of most recently updated fics. Every time you update your fic, it will show up at the top of the search hit list, thus increasing the chances that someone new will notice it and decide to read it. Spreading out the frequency of your posting can thus optimize the amount of times that it shows up at the top of the search.

All right, that’s pretty much all I have to say about all this! If I had to sum it all up, though, I would stick to the three-point process I outlined above:

Know your endpoint, and aim toward it.

Make an outline, and remember that the outline is your friend. It’s a memory tool and an organizational aid, and it can and likely will change as your fic goes on.

Write the fic in sequential order, and use your own story to motivate yourself.

I said this before, but writing a longfic really is a labour of love. It can take months or years to finish a longfic, and it is not always easy. It’s my hope that this little tutorial will make the process less daunting and help some of you guys launch into writing that story you always wanted to write!

If anyone has any other ideas for tutorials that they’d like me to address, please feel free to send me an ask or a PM!

- Lots of love from your friendly neighbourhood Pikapeppa xoxo

#fanfic writer's life #pikapeppa tutors #writing advice #fanfic writing #writing #writing tutorial #ao3 #writing reference

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renaerys · 4 years

Text

PPG One-Shot: Blowing Off Steam (Brick/Blossom)

@carriedreamerx and @kiebs have been hard at work these last couple of days drawing some really pretty art over on IG for various of our collective fics (check out their IGs, the art is super gorgeous). Since I have the artistic skills of a rock, I thought I’d say thanks with some Reds fight-and-make-out fic! This is an excerpt from an upcoming multi-chapter fic that will feature the Punks along with the Girls and the Boys. Gist of it is they’ve all been warped to a different planet and are stuck in a weird, possibly haunted house as they try to find a way out of it with punches and problem solving and *gasp* teamwork. They’re all in their late 20s in this. In this excerpt, Brick and Blossom blow off a little steam and Berserk takes all the credit.

(Unbeta’d and subject to change when I get around to posting the actual multi-chapter fic itself.)

xxx

Blossom had never felt more discomfited by Berserk’s absence than her presence, but she felt it now across the table from Brick with no one else around to draw her wandering eye, or his. He shifted his weight in his chair. She stretched her neck. He took a sip of water. She cleared her throat.

After ten minutes of this, he slammed his book shut. “What is happening?”

Blossom fixed her gaze firmly on her book and the passage she’d re-read at least four times now without absorbing any of it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s taken you twenty minutes to read two pages.”

The knee-jerk urge to refute him tugged at her like a dog begging for table scraps, but she ignored it. He wasn’t wrong. “I guess I’m finding it hard to concentrate today.”

They watched each other across the long table, and it struck her just how red his eyes were even from afar: two burning pits fixed entirely on her. Unsettling, yet strangely warm. She thought about retiring early, but she wasn’t tired. In fact, she was having some trouble sitting still in her chair. Maybe a walk outside would do her good, or even a run. Maybe Buttercup was free and up for a spar. Just anything to get her body moving and her brain blanking before her thoughts burned a hole through her skull and exposed everything to him.

“Let’s go a round,” Brick said. The sound of his chair sliding over the tile screamed in the cavernous, quiet library.

“What?”

“I feel like I’m trying to crawl out of my own skin.” He flexed a fist, and red sparks spiderwebbed along his knuckles to the wrist eager for something to burn.

Blossom’s mouth went dry at the manifest threat of his power calling to her like old ghosts. She could retreat, provide some excuse, it had worked before. But no excuse came to her now, and under the table, her fingers curled around a mass of pastel power itching for a summoning. She rose from her chair, books forgotten, and headed for the door. “We can’t have that,” she said.

He fell into step after her not a moment later and followed her down the hall and up the second floor balcony to the first challenge room. The house was quiet and empty tonight, its vaulted ceilings cold and distant. It was as though they were the only two people awake in this uncanny place.

It took everything Blossom had not to stop and wait for him to catch up. His eyes at her back gave off a singular heat, homing and hyper-focused. Perhaps years ago, she would have never entertained the thought of turning her back on someone so dangerous. Now, the thought of what she might invite if she faced him kept her squarely focused on her destination ahead.

“Ladies first,” Brick said directly behind her when they reached the challenge room. He grabbed the edge of the door and held it open for her.

Blossom looked anywhere but back at him and stepped over the threshold. The change of pressure entering the pocket dimension made her ears pop and the access band on her wrist heat with power. As before, the walls on all sides moved as concrete structures grew and shifted, sky scrapers blooming like flowers and withering to dust, only to sprout again elsewhere. Brick followed and closed the door behind them. Already disoriented, Blossom began to float as she adjusted to the altered gravity and tried to abandon the idea of up versus down.

“Restrictions?” Brick asked. He shed his red jacket, leaving him only in his matching pants and a form-fitting tank top.

Blossom very maturely averted her gaze lest he assume she was ogling him, of all the ludicrous notions. Steeling herself, she unzipped her own red jacket and tossed it aside to join his. “Since when can you afford to restrain yourself against me?”

His laughter, light and low, shivered her to the bone. “All right, then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He was on her in a flash with a hard punch. Blossom blocked at the last second, but the force sent her crashing into concrete. She barely had time to cough when he came at her again with another punch aimed at her face, but this time she dodged in the nick of time and it was his turn to eat rubble.

Adrenaline and Chemical X made for a heady, explosive cocktail in her veins that spread from her fingertips to the very ends of her long ponytail. Incandescent, pink power jumped over her bare arms as she poised to receive him again.

“Come on,” she said.

Brick glowed red, and it was her only warning before he rocketed after her. Blossom took off deeper into the maze of ever changing obstacles, the exertion only fueling her faster along in a familiar chase they had not run in years.

The pocket dimension was a death trap. Blossom darted over and under spikes and spires closing around her like jaws, her movements precise and fluid. But Brick was just as adept and wasted little energy swerving around the masticating mandible they had chosen for this evening’s playground.

Blossom swung around and under a sprouting obelisk, trusting her body to move exactly according to her will, but Brick abruptly changed course and met her mid-spin. Anticipating his sneak attack, Blossom let him have it with a wicked kick in the ribs.

Unfortunately, he was damn fast and grabbed her by the ankle just as her kick connected, and they both went flying with the force of her attack. A receding column broke Blossom’s fall with a rude crunch, and she broke Brick’s. Rose met red through a cloud of dust and electric Chemical X.

“Caught you,” he said.

Maybe it was the rush of the moment that drove her, the old thrill of the hunt from their heyday, never acknowledged but deeply felt. She felt him now, palms searing around her knee and pinning her neck, and she reached back.

Too close to avoid her open palm on his chest, Brick took her ice at point-blank range and blasted away in a flurry of snowflakes. He nearly hit a stone pillar punching out of the undulating wall, but managed to flip out of its path at the last second.

Blossom floated higher, her arms sleeved in ice and her breath misty. The temperature plummeted further as her power rippled through the pocket dimension. “Not quite,” she said in a voice that crept in between the shifting sky scrapers like hoarfrost.

Across from her, Brick’s power sluiced off him as thick as magma. He was a bright, burning star in this grey world, and god she could feel him pushing back and fighting for ground as if he were right in front of her. The chemically saturated air shimmered around him and ignited the blood in his eyes as they met hers. “Come here.”

It was all the encouragement she needed to give in to the timeless spark between them and unleash. Frost met fire as they collided, broke, and collided again. His punches smoldered, but her ice tempered them to cleansing smoke. And when she caught him in a freezing hold, he inevitably slipped through behind a veil of steam. Each unable to smother the other, they were evenly matched and forever at odds as they ricocheted off stone towers and toppled thrusting obelisks in their bid for dominance.

And that was what this was, what it had always been. Blossom had never felt the need to control and dominate another like she felt it fighting Brick. Call it fate, or design, or maybe it was just him, but there was nothing like this release, this honest surrender to the creature she was and always would be, made magnificent in the eyes of a true equal.

“I’m right here!” she taunted, with snowflakes in her hair.

Brick landed on a cracked block. The cement began to melt under the heat of his power where he crouched and captured her in those pyre-bright eyes. “Is that an invitation?” he shot back. “Or a threat?”

Alive with the thrill of unfettered competition, Blossom grinned. “Let’s find out.”

She took off at a punishing pace, half flying around the cement blocks and half skating over their frozen faces. Brick was right on her tail, his steps scorching the swaths of ice she left in her wake to cataclysmic ends. Wherever the two Supers’ extremities came into direct contact, the concrete collapsed and exploded like a parade of supernovas.

He was close, she could feel it, but he wouldn’t catch her, no way. Blossom was the best at what she did, and no one knew that better than her counterpart. But he was fast closing the distance between them, and when she chanced a glance back, there he was haloed in haze, his fire rising like great, golden chains, and he reached for her.

Blossom gasped, and it was her mistake. Brick caught her waist and pulled her back hard. The blizzard in her lungs went up in steam between his fingers clamped over her mouth. They hurtled together head over heels with Blossom kicking and jabbing with her elbows. But Brick locked her arms to her sides and anchored her to his chest until they came to a stop and she could hardly move. Pink power crackled on her skin as she thrashed in his arms, but he only laughed.

“That tickles,” he murmured.

Blossom immediately ceased her struggling. Immured in his arms with no chance of escaping unless he let her go, she became acutely aware of just how close they were. His breath was warm in her hair, and he smelled like smoke and parchment. He hadn’t loosened his hold around her at all.

“Brick,” she said, sotto voce.

He laughed again, low and husky. “Yield.”

The very word inspired an electric disdain in her. “No.”

He pressed his nose to her hair, and when he spoke his lips brushed against the side of her neck. “Are you sure?”

Blossom turned her head to look him in the eye and held on to her nerve out of sheer force of will. “Are you?”

This close, she could count his freckles and taste the heat he radiated, but there was no reading him beyond his singular and absolute focus on her.

He loosened his grip around her and pulled away. “No,” he said.

Blossom caught him before he could move away. Thoughtless perhaps, but Blossom never stopped thinking, not about their entrapment here, not about finding a way out, and not about him since the day they arrived in this strange place. She barely tugged at his shirt before he was on her again, arms around her waist and kissing her hard. Her fingers sparked with power as she threaded them through his short hair, making him groan, and he suddenly shoved them against the freezing, concrete wall until it cracked. His kiss was volcanic, as relentless as he was, and Blossom pulled him deeper with a smile.

The wall lurched at her back, and as quickly as it had begun, Brick ended the kiss and pushed her out of the way of a wicked spike just as it erupted from the enchanted wall. Blossom landed deftly on a nearby block and watched him do the same. Breathing hard, she wiped the traces of the best kiss of her life from her lips.

“Best two out of three,” he called to her.

Unable to resist, she smirked. “Restrictions?”

“You couldn’t restrain yourself against me if you tried.”

A retort sat poised on the tip of her tongue, but it still remembered his kiss and refused to cooperate.

“Blossom,” he said in a commanding tone that wanted answering.

Blossom’s power burst around her, radioactive, and she launched herself skyward. “Try and keep up.”

They spent the next two hours raining tempestuous ruin, on the pocket dimension and on each other.

xxx

Berserk took one look at Brick and Blossom when they returned to the Red Wing later that evening in their soot- and sleet-stained clothes, set her book down, and drained the rest of her bourbon. “Oh god.”

Brick rolled his eyes headed for his room. “There better be some of that left when I get out of the shower.”

Berserk flipped him the bird, which he returned behind his back before slamming the door.

Blossom hovered like a deer caught in the headlights until Berserk took pity on her and poured a fresh glass. “Here. You look like you need this more than I do.”

Blossom snapped out of it and took the offered bourbon automatically. “What?”

Jesus Christ.

You try to be nice for once, and nobody fucking appreciates it. Typical.

“Whatever.” Berserk went back to her book and her own glass of bourbon, which she topped off with the rest of the bottle so there would be none left for Brick.

Blossom didn’t fuck off to her own room like she ought to have, but instead sat down on the red sofa across from Berserk. She was smiling like a creep. Before Berserk could ask her if she needed medical assistance with whatever the hell was going on, Blossom said, “Cheers.”

Magenta eyes narrowed over the top of her book as Berserk studied her counterpart for any hint of a scheme. When she found none, she cautiously clinked her overfull glass to Blossom’s and drank.

They sat there in silence for a while. The sound of Brick’s shower was a low din behind his closed door as Berserk slowly flipped the pages of her book, some boring shit about this planet’s agricultural practices. Blossom had picked up a book of her own and curled up, her legs tucked under her in a perfect mirror to Berserk. Every once in a while Berserk would steal a glance at her counterpart and find her quiet and content with her book and bourbon. Peaceful was not quite the right word for this weirdly tranquil ambience, and Blossom for sure needed a shower. But, well…

Well.

“Thank you.”

It was so softly spoken, that had they not been reading in complete silence, Berserk may not have heard her speak. Blossom didn’t look up to acknowledge her sitting there, or even to check that Berserk had heard her.

Berserk curled a lock of her frizzy, red hair around her finger and buried her nose in her book. “Whatever.”

Blossom hid a smile behind her book and finished her drink.

xxx

Thanks for reading! <3

#Blossick #Reds #Blossom #Brick #Berserk #Powerpuff Girls #PPG #fanfic #carriedreamerx #kiebs #February Fic Prompts #i'm liking this world and pretty excited about writing the ppnkgs!#and more reds who am i kidding #PPG Trinity House

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thosetwistedtales · 4 years

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SPARE NON-SPOILER DEATH STRANDING TIPS ANYONE ? ? ?

Hey fandom, this is something I’ve meaning to put out for a bit now but since some of my friends have started the game I figured no time like the present, so—-

Does anyone have any tips or tricks they remember from their playthrough of the game or have picked up recently that have made the game easier or smoother for them to get through? If you can think of any just add yours in the caption and let’s see how many we can get on one post!! @begitalarcos & @trcstfunded & @fourrarri here’s some of my own tricks, or lessons I remember from my playthrough!

You can take on more than one order at a time so long as you’re careful to not overload Sam and watch your time, especially if you’re going for a premium delivery. This can save time both in-game and time put into doing deliveries, you’ll have to use your best judgment on how many deliveries are do-able in one run, and account for not only what Sam can take, but the proximity of the delivery locations.

Kojima meant for this game at it’s core to be about building connections. TRUST YOUR FELLOW PORTERS TO HELP YOU! I know it can be tempting to load Sam up with extra ladders and ropes and pairs of boots but---- have some faith that the players that have come before you are there to help and want to see you succeed. I can promise you one of each is perfectly fine and you will NEVER use that extra ladder or rope you feel you must bring along in the name of JUST IN CASE. Why? Because of other players having already left behind their own paths and ladders/ropes along tried and true routes for you to use :). The worst that could happen is you have to backtrack a little and even that’ll be easier without any extra equipment on your back. Have faith in your fellow porters, they want to see you succeed.

Study the map before each run and PLOT YOUR FUCKING ROUTE ACCORDINGLY. Is there a river you’re gonna have to get across? Are you gonna be traversing mountains to get to your delivery location? Is there a MULE camp to avoid or territory you’re gonna have to run through? Plan for those things and expect them so you aren’t surprised when you walk upon them and can face whatever challenges they present.

Make sure you allow Sam and BB to rest/sleep at each and every distribution center you find. THEY BOTH WORK HARD AND DESERVE NAPS OK. Not only does this recharge them both and prepare them for future deliveries but each distro center unlocks a bit more story, more BB memories. If you’re a stickler for finding every bit of story you can make sure Sam sleeps in each of the distribution centers, especially after you’ve located a new prepper or location.

Also, be sure at each distribution center that you fuck around and have some fun in Sam’s room!! You may think you’ve found everything to explore in Sam’s room but each new distribution center/chapter of gameplay unlocks potential extra scenes! Also read your emails and interviews and journals! Not only will this educate you on the game lore and often be the only way some of your big questions will be answered, but in regards to emails, reading them will often be the only way to unlock more deliveries from certain preppers.

Pay attention to how you pack cargo and your backpack! On his own Sam has the grace of a drunken dock worker SO pack accordingly. Balance is important so make sure you’re distributing weight evenly and pay attention to what goes where and the effect placement can have should you fall. Back should mostly be used for big pieces of cargo since its where most of Sam’s strength is. Sam’s suit has 4 points where smaller cargo can be attached and its worth noting should he fall the cargo on these will not shake off! The tool rack should be obvious and is mostly meant for whatever tools you happen to have (Ladder,Rope,PCC, small cargo). You’ll also have a utilities pouch! You dont need to carry Sam’s grenades and such on his back, thats what the pouch is for). Early on you should be able to get away with auto sort but as you get further along in the game and deliveries become more difficult you’re gonna wanna figure out what works best for what cargo and get good at organizing things yourself, or using auto then checking and possibly reorganizing things as you see fit.

MAKE CONNECTIONS!! There is a BRIDGE LINKS option in your menu! USE IT. It’s basically a log of players/porters you have interactions with during your playthrough. It’s also where you can form STRAND CONTRACTS. It’s basically the equivalent of favoriting another player/porter and increases the likelihood of their equipment and structures making an appearance in your gameplay which increases your odds of being able to give them more likes and them being able to find and like your structures as well!

Recycle and drop used/ruined cargo! There is absolutely no reason to ever lug around any extra weight than absolutely necessary. You can either drop it or, if you’re just that diligent and against being a litterbug you can take it to a waystation or distro center to recycle which gives whatever material is left back for future fabrications.

Find each and every prepper and waystation you can! Not only does this uncover and fill in more of your map but it also increases bandwidth for building structures and well as open up more deliveries to increase your porter grade. Porter grade IS important because it’s how you upgrade Sam physically and make him stronger and more durable (Being able to hold his breath longer, increase his stamina gauge, better his balance and decrease his risk of falling)

Be sure you are working toward increasing your connection level with different preppers and waystations! Not only does this increase your porter grade and connection level with individuals but each connection-level unlocks rewards! Some of which will be equipment upgrades or blueprints I guarantee you’re gonna want (hint: THE JUNK DEALER)

Note the difficult passages on your journey and what would make getting through them easier because as you play you will receive equipment later that you’re gonna want to remember these locations for. However when building structures always keep in mind your bandwidth and make sure whatever you build is useful and going to get a lot of use!

BTs are not as terrifying as they’re made out to be. Yes discretion can be the better part of valor however do not panic if you get got by a BT and find yourself in a battle with a catcher or hunter BT. They are beatable with enough time, patience, and ammo, or you can always choose to run away from them as all you need is to leave the tar area to escape. Either way, keep your wits if you’re faced with BT’s, they aren’t as scary as you think.

TAKE THINGS AT YOUR OWN PACE & HAVE FUN. Whether that means focusing on each individual till you reach max connection before continuing on, or if you wanna focus on the story first! There is no wrong way to play Death Stranding as it was made with the journey in mind to be the important aspect of it. And hey----

Tagging these peeps for their insights cause I’m sure you all will have more to add to this!! @chiralcrystallization , @team-trash-panda , @savage-rhi , @tineidaelux , @argetlam007 , @deputyrhiannonhale , @ramadiiiisme , @maskedprepperkid , @goldenbridgessss , @nemodoren , @hiiggsmonaghan , @idontfindyouthatinteresting , @higgs-the-god , @twirlingsmoke

#begitalarcos #death stranding #hope this helps friend(s)

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comradekatara · 4 years

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what does pai sho reflects on the characters in atla? who is their favorite opponent?

aang: he likes it fine. as far as games go, it’s a bit too sedentary for him. he likes playing it with zuko and katara, because they play the game pretty fast-paced, and they never keep score. he hates playing against sokka, it’s super boring and takes forever and sokka takes it way too seriously. mai is his favorite opponent, though, because it’s clear she actually knows the ins and outs of the game, but she doesn’t treat it like life or death, and her very subtle trash talk is hilarious.

zuko: he hates pai sho and generally refuses to play it. sometimes his uncle wears him down, but usually zuko wins those fights by throwing a tantrum and storming off, which iroh decides isn’t worth his time. he agrees to play aang sometimes because he has a very hard time saying no to aang due to his overwhelming energy and puppy-like demeanor. zuko regrets teaching sokka how to play because he fears he created a monster. sokka makes zuko play him sometimes, but the whole time sokka just taunts him for being terrible at pai sho. once iroh, aang, and sokka are all dead, though, he actually gets pretty into it. this is because katara is just as terrible at the game as he is, and being old as shit means they’ve actually grown to appreciate sitting around and playing board games, as opposed to their favored activities of their youth (causing chaos and setting things ablaze). they’re pretty evenly matched, and it suddenly occurs to them that maybe they’re not terrible at pai sho, sokka was just freakishly good.

katara: she is not good, and she is a very sore loser. she wins against aang, against zuko, even against suki a couple times, but she refuses to play sokka ever. she claims it is a dumb game for nerds, and also she doesn’t want to participate in fire nation culture thank you very much! zuko points out that the game’s been around for hundreds, if not thousands, of years, and katara just mutters, “of course you would say that, colonizer.” she refuses to play it for decades to come.

toph: sokka is sick of not being able to play pai sho against his favorite person, so one day he is just like “that’s it! we’re making a metal pai sho board!” and it really doesn’t take long at all for them to build it. all of a sudden, toph has joined the fray of eligible pai sho opponents, and of course she is great at it. it is, after all, a game all about waiting and listening. toph’s favorite opponent is azula. she thinks it’s funny when azula has to hold back tears after having lost a game, which is about 50% of the time. many breakthroughs happen during their weekly pai sho games. and toph looks forward to them.

suki: suki loves pai sho. suki loves board games, card games, games in general. suki is a very sore winner, even when the other person is not even aware that they are supposedly in competition. going out with suki is actually a very tiring affair because she is always the first person to suggest that they play a drinking game. and then once she’s drunk, nay, just slightly tipsy, she demands that everyone in her vicinity try to fight her, all the while insisting that she would kick their ass if they even tried. suki has a lot of fun playing pai sho. she and mai first became friends over a game of pai sho, and they play at every opportunity. they are both part of an ongoing tournament among the kyoshi warriors, as well as mai and sokka. she insists that someday she’ll beat sokka and/or ty lee, but that day never does arrive. but she beats iroh once, and rides that high for a month.

mai: mai thinks pai sho is fun. pai sho makes sense. there’s beauty in its structure. she and ty lee used to play all the time when they were little, and she cherishes those memories. some days, when azula’s lessons would extend past their usual hour, they would be ushered to an empty room of the palace and just be forced to sit there and wait for azula. of course, this didn’t bother them at all, and these were in fact their favorite days at the palace. sometimes zuko would just sit there with them, but he wouldn’t really talk to them, just take out a book and start reading. and then sometimes, iroh would play them in pai sho. iroh never let them win, which mai knew because she never did. granted, she was eight. that said, ty lee did beat him. she mentions this to zuko years down the line, to which he is skeptical, which annoys her. her favorite opponents are suki, sokka, and toph. playing against ty lee isn’t fun for her anymore, though, because she hates knowing that ty lee is lying to her, even if it’s just for the sake of winning a game. they play boggle instead.

ty lee: she’s a pai sho master. she loses on purpose a lot, but very rarely does she find an opponent where she actually struggles to win. sokka is that opponent. the first time they play each other, they find themselves at a complete and total impasse because both of their strategies rely on the other player growing too confident and revealing too much, and both of them know better. at one point ty lee wins just by really subtly negging sokka into submission. sokka’s just like “i suddenly feel really bad for azula.”

azula: up until the day she plays sokka, azula is of the belief that she has an unbeatable pai sho record and has never lost and will never lose a game. she goes her whole life not realizing that ty lee lost to her on purpose, and then would say, so earnestly, “wow, azula! you’re really good at pai sho!” to which azula would say something about how her superior cunning is all just part of being a good princess, to which ty lee would nod emphatically and say “i bet!” sokka beats her, easily no less, and she feels like she’s been punched in the gut. what’s worse is that zuko was there, and he saw it all play out, which is quite possibly one of the only factors that could make that situation more humiliating than it already was. and of course, zuko does revel in watching sokka best her, because of course he would. she plays her uncle a couple times, and finds the experience torturous. but she does genuinely enjoy those days wherein she gets to play toph.

sokka: mai decides that sokka is good people the second that she sees him play a single game of pai sho. for sokka, learning pai sho feels like coming home. no matter how many decades pass, he never tires of it. his strategy is infallible: lose the first round, possibly even the second (depending on the skill of the opponent) and then use all the intel he collected on that person’s strategy to wipe the floor with them forevermore. his brain is a database of everyone’s pai sho strategies, and the better he knows someone, the easier it is for him to beat them. (katara, zuko, and suki are by far his easiest opponents, for example.) he has about a 99.9% success rate, and yet he still maintains that he has room for improvement, that he just hasn’t found the right opponent to properly challenge him yet. that person is asami, who stumbles (with korra) into him and iroh playing pai sho in the spirit world, which is what they’ve been doing every day for the past 10+ years. the game takes forever, but once asami eventually beats him, sokka just looks very intensely at korra and says, “listen to me: never let her go, okay??”

iroh: he claims he hasn’t lost a game in fifty years. sokka counters that he probably just hasn’t had very good opponents. iroh explains to him the symbolic significance of the lotus tile. sokka captures his lotus tile and tells him that it’s functionally useless as long as you know how to counter it. iroh isn’t used to people knowing how to counter it. also, he’s conveniently forgetting that time an eight year old kicked his ass. he has since convinced himself that he let her win, but deep down, he knows better, mai knows better, ty lee knows better. none of this stops him from favoring the lotus tile, though. it’s pretty!

#the gaang and #asks #anon #sloooooowly getting around to these longer asks i promise #pai sho

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tiliamericana · 3 years

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Muay Thai 1.01

[Read Ahead] [Mirror]

Silence hung in the air, heavy for its awkwardness. Did she need to say something? She probably did.

“Uh, thank you for coming,” she said, eventually.

The two women nodded back at her as they collected their water bottles. One of them waved, and Nairi waved back, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she watched them leave. After a moment she realised that that was probably creepy, and averted her eyes, walking over to her front desk as though she’d left something there that she needed to consult.

The little bell over the door made a pleasant noise as it swung open and shut again, and Nairi looked up, watching her first and only beginner judo students walk down the street.

She watched them until they moved past the frame of the front window, then glanced down at what was actually on her desk. The two forms for her new judo students on top of her notebook, clunky clamshell laptop in the compartment under the topmost surface of the desk, and a stack of mail next to the forms.

The large digital clock on the wall next to her head said she had fifteen minutes until her Krav Maga class was due to start. Nairi doubted the bell would be ringing for any interested students though; the judo women were the only biters in the two weeks she’d been open.

The top two envelopes were junk mail addressed simply to ‘the owner’, and Nairi dropped them in the wastepaper basket without a second thought. Movement caught her eye and she resisted the reflex to look up—it was only her reflection.

Mirrors were a necessary part of any dojo; you had to be able to see what you were doing to know you were doing it right. The long walls of them in the rooms had been why she’d bought the old dance studio in the first place. All of the places she’d trained and learned and taught in had been filled with activity and other people though, you got used to the movement when it was always happening. She just didn’t like to be alone with herself.

The building was old, janky by the standards of the gentrification that was slowly creeping up the street, and the first floor was made up of two large rooms that were ideal for her purposes. The front faced onto the street with the glass walls and doors, and the second was only a little smaller and behind a door, which would be useful if she ever had students in want a private sparring space. The only adjustments she’d really had to make downstairs was ripping out the barres and replacing the flooring.

The back room also had the interior staircase leading up to the second floor. Nairi had added a door with a lock at each end of that, considering that was where she was living. The renovations upstairs had been more intensive; stripping out the mirrors, adding a couple of walls, installing everything needed for a functional kitchen and a bathroom that consisted of more than a sink and toilet that looked like they’d been sized for pixies. The end result had been a large living space and two smaller rooms either side of the newly expanded bathroom.

Floor number three, the last, had been identical in layout to the second, but Nairi didn’t have a use for it and wasn’t entirely certain what to do with it. She’d installed another door on the stairs leading up to it and left it locked, tucking the key away in her pantry. The ‘front’ entrance was next to the pantry in the kitchen and lead out onto a rickety little structure that could generously be called a balconette with a bare set of aluminium stairs leading down into the side alley that bordered the building and where she parked her car. It was probably meant to be the fire escape.

Nairi wasn’t entirely certain what was supposed to go in a ‘real home’, one you weren’t planning to leave, and the magazines her kitchen contractor had given her didn’t look very lived in. After about a week of staring at the blank walls and counters she’d gone out and bought a fern for the kitchen and moved her punching bag up to sit in the corner of the living room.

The fern was already dead. The only other arguably decorative item she had in the apartment was her calendar with her dutifully circled dates for each quarterly reminder to change her locks.

The last envelope was larger, heavy card stock with a ‘DO NOT BEND’ sticker under the stamps. She’d been waiting for this one and bent to open the first drawer, pulling out the shrink-wrapped frame she’d bought in anticipation of its arrival. She tore away the plastic wrap and popped out the backing carefully, wiping down the glass with the bottom of her shirt before setting the frame face down on the desk and picking up the envelope.

She tore away the envelope tab and tilted it towards her hand, gently shaking the certificate out into her hand. A brief inspection showed nothing folded up or out of place, and she gently pressed it into the frame, setting the back into its slot and folding the tabs down.

That done she checked the door again, making sure no hopeful students were about to open it up and walk in before she ducked into the back room. The bell didn’t ring in the time it took for her to cross the room and open up the cupboards where she kept the floor mats, pads, and the stepladder.

She took the stepladder across to the front desk, unfolding it and setting it against the wall. She should figure out the sound system, probably, she thought idly as she picked up the frame and stepped up to hang it on the wall next to its twins. It was too quiet.

The first two certificates declared that Nairi Smith was qualified to teach the martial arts of Krav Maga and Judo to a brown belt level, signed by teachers at a school from across town. The third and newest was from a gym a little closer and decreed that she was able to teach Muay Thai as a black and gold level instructor. Both schools had cheerfully agreed to grade any students she sent their way if it came up.

Most of the people she’d met while actually learning Muay Thai didn’t really see the point in using colour grading to advertise how ‘good’ you were, but the way she was teaching demanded a certain… Aesthetic. People liked having markers to determine their progress, and she’d started in Judo, so she understood the impulse.

When she glanced back at the clock as she stepped off the ladder, there was still eleven minutes until her Krav class was due to start. And no hopeful students. The temptation to just call it, to flip the ‘closed’ sign on her door and go upstairs so she could order take out and stair at the ceiling was overwhelmingly strong. She pulled her eyes away from the door that would take her upstairs and set about to try and do busy work.

Putting the stepladder back and restacking the mats she’d knocked over while moving it killed another four minutes. Examining the frames next to the desk and making sure they were hanging evenly ate thirty seconds. Booting up the laptop and checking her emails took a minute in loading, and another minute in refreshing. She resisted the urge to start pacing up and down the dojo.

A shadow walked past the front window and Nairi glanced up with forced casualness. It was a pedestrian, pausing outside her door to check road traffic before jaywalking over to the 24-hour Japanese restaurant opposite. It was a good little place; she’d certainly eaten enough of their tempura at three AM to judge.

Three minutes.

Nairi pushed her fringe away from her face again and frowned, tugging her hair tie out of her ponytail. Her hair was the longest she could remember it ever being, hanging in a straight, black curtain down about her jawline. With an inch-long tideline of bleach around the bottom. She crossed the room to stand in front of the tall mirrors and forced herself to look in it so she could tie her hair back again. Her fingers moved brusquely, and she did her best to ignore the way the motions translated into tugging tension across her scalp. Dark eyes blinked in the mirror in front of her as she worked, not really processing her own reflection. One minute left.

The cuff of her long-sleeved shirt had shifted up past her wrist revealing tattooed skin. She tugged it back down to cover the ink without looking at it and headed back to her the desk. The clocked ticked over to seven o’clock as she walked, bringing a cheerful ‘ping!’ of a noise and no students for Krav Maga.

She should really wait for a few minutes, just in case. People were late all the time.

Nairi flipped the sign on the door to ‘CLOSED’ and switched off the lights, cloaking the room in sunset and shadow. She fetched the laptop from the desk, tucking it under her arm with the power cable, before crouching and retrieving her keys from the bottom drawer, which was secured with a combination lock.

Instead of crossing through the back room she went outside from the front and locked it externally before going around the corner and up the outside stairs to get into her apartment. The less she was in the habit of using her interior staircase, the less likely it was that anyone would notice that you could access her home like that.

Realistically she could probably get away with changing the locks on that staircase every six months instead of every three; the exterior locks presented an existing challenge. Though, if someone was going to be familiar enough with her habits to use the interior access then they’d probably bypass the entry locks by virtue of being a benign part of her routine—like a student, or a delivery person.

Better to keep them on the same change rotation, then. She could always consider off-setting the months if she wanted the extra security.

Nairi paused in the doorway to the kitchen, taking a moment to consider the light levels before flipping the ceiling lamps on and locking her door behind her. All of her doors were fully open where she’d left them, and her doorstop was still on its mark. She set the laptop on the kitchen counter and picked up the stack of takeaway menus from next to her microwave, padding towards the couch as she started to leaf through them.

This area was heavy on the East-Asian food which was nice. It was easy to get sick of pizza, and they usually fucked up and put meat on it anyway. Once she got tired of rice she could just swap to noodles and vice versa. The Indian place a couple of blocks away looked good for tonight—they did a good paneer.

The young woman on the end of the phone sounded extremely bored. “Saag paneer with saffron rice, a garlic naan, and two bhaji,” she rattled off with practised ease. “Can I get a name for the order?”

Nairi hesitated, giving herself a moment to stare at her ceiling and take a deep breath. There was no reason to lie to a teenager working takeaway. “Nairi.”

If the teenager noticed the pause, she didn’t comment. “Great. That’ll be sixteen dollars and ready for pick up in fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks,” said Nairi hanging up the phone and bringing her total social interactions of the day to three whole people. Four, if you counted the fact that she’d have to go to the restaurant and pay when she picked up her dinner.

Class was completed and food was cooked. The apartment was eery and silent, and Nairi sat there for about a minute before she caved and turned the TV on just to have some background noise. A news segment was playing; grim-faced anchors discussing a brutal murder with a uniformed police commissioner.

Nairi blinked, stock still where she was sitting on the couch with the remote pointed at the TV, the thoughts in her mind distant and hard to reach. The camera cut to show yellow tape and her fingers moved without any direction from her brain, pushing the channel one over. Canned laughter played over a crowded kitchen set, immediately sliding into white noise in Nairi’s periphery, and she un-tensed, setting the remote down again.

She picked up the laminated sheet next to it, looking over the grid labelled with the days of the week across the top. Down the side were hour long blocks starting from one in the afternoon, and the squares were blocked off with labels for Judo and Krav Maga with different colours for the difficulty levels. Nairi picked up her marker and cleaner and got to work fitting Muay Thai into the schedule, ignoring the sitcom happening in front of her.

Later, lying on her back with the light from a talk show playing across her face and the empty take out containers on the coffee table in front of her, Nairi tilted her head a little to watch the clock on her microwave. It ticked over to twelve-oh-one, June 26th, and she sighed, wishing herself a quiet happy birthday.

#serial fiction #series honey tree #book muay thai #101 #lgbt fiction

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athenagc94 · 4 years

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Gust and Piper - Beginnings Pt. 1

I’m starving for more MTAP content, but now I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I have to create some of it too... I guess. Here is a little of snippet of something I’m working on for my builder, Piper, and Gust. It’s a lot of scenes right now and I’m working on bridging them together. Here’s one of them. Kind of the start of everything. I don’t know

I’m also posting the story here on AO3!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As a younger man, Gust dreamed of making his mark on history. He planned on traveling across the Free Cities, designing important structures for important people. Several years ago, he’d fled to Atara to chase those dreams. He lived the fast paced life of a bustling city. He’d studied under his mentor Vera for years. When he graduated, he was ready to take on the world as the next Master Architect. If Gust could smack his younger self upside the head, he would. Because that kid was a naive fool.

When he and Albert discussed the possibility of forming their own business, he didn’t plan on setting up shop in his hometown of Portia. However, his sister’s health started to decline and, as it does, life happened. Now, here he was, four years later with nothing to show for it. He spent his days hunched over a drafting table, designing bland buildings for the bland people living in this bland town. It wasn’t the life he had hoped for, but it was his reality.

His grip tightened on his pencil as he dragged it across the page. The latest rendition of the South Bridge was beginning to take shape. It wasn’t his first crack at the design and he doubted it would be his last. His design process followed a similar pattern these days. He’d create an inspired concept, the client would see it, they would hate it, and he’d be back at square one. Wash, rinse, repeat.

His father always said Portia was a frontier town and that they would develop it into something great. Gust clucked his tongue irritably. The longer he worked in Portia, the less he believed it. How did one develop a town full of people that feared the very concept of change?

“Good morning!”

The front door jingled. Gust set his pencil aside and turned around. Portia’s newest builder, Piper, stood just inside the door, hands stuffed in the front pockets of her grease stained coveralls. She didn’t seem to notice him right away, in fact, she didn’t spare the loft above a single glance as she searched the lower level. “Albert?” She disappeared out of sight, “you here?”

Gust pursed his lips and stood up. Albert was usually on top of helping customers. He rarely did any filing in the back rooms during office hours. Albert would never miss out on helping one of Portia’s eligible bachelorettes. He peered over the railing curiously. His desk looked like it hadn’t been touched. The usual mess of work orders and commission forms were stacked neatly on either side of his desk and his chair tucked in place.

Now that he thought about it, he never heard Albert come in this morning. He racked his brain. They’d left the office together yesterday. They were discussing the latest commissions they needed for the bridge when they bumped into his father. Gust groaned. That’s right. Albert was meeting with his father and Mint this morning to go over the budget for the project. He would be gone until after lunch.

“Albert?”

“Albert is meeting with my father this morning.”

He heard a gasp and the builder reappeared under him. He watched as several emotions played on her face. It was like flipping through a book. Surprise quickly turned to realization, which immediately became disappointment. He sighed. Yeah, he tended to have that effect on people. “He won’t be back until this afternoon.”

Piper glanced down at her watch and made a face. “Can you help me then?”

Gust blinked, taken aback. Most people never asked him to help. If a customer came in while Albert was out, they’d quickly apologize and came back later. To them, Albert was the brains of the operation. Gust was just there to be pretty and make things pretty, which was a fair assumption now that he thought about it. Regardless, it wasn’t true. Gust was knowledgeable enough about the inner workings of A&G. But the people of Portia didn’t need to know that, if they did, he’d be expected to help them. So he never corrected their assumptions. Apparently, no one had bothered to inform Piper.

He rolled his eyes and turned away from the banister. He may as well help her. The sooner he did, the sooner he could get back to work. He smoothed the lapel of his coat as he meandered down the stairs and towards Albert’s desk. If he remembered correctly, Albert kept the blank work orders in the bottom left hand drawer. He rummaged through the drawer, pulled out a blank order and took a seat.

Piper hadn’t moved. She stared at him, dumbfounded, though he couldn’t imagine why. Was she surprised to see him willing to help? Should he be insulted right now? He pursed his lips. A moment passed, then another, and she still didn’t move. He tapped the nib of his pen impatiently on the desktop. After another moment of tense silence, he cleared his throat. “Well?”

Piper shook herself from her stupor. “Iー” she cleared her throat, “I’m looking to add an extension to my workshop.” She bounced on the balls of her feet. “I’m tired of sleeping where I work, ya know?”

Gust didn’t know the feeling, so he chose not to respond. He tried to ignore the awkward silence that had settled between them and made quick work of filling out the form. It was easy information. The initial consultation was always easy. His real work began when he started conceptualizing. It was his favorite part of the process, but recently, it had also become the most draining. He could see it now. He’d design the new addition. The builder would want something less aesthetic and more functional. He’d be disappointed and create the same thing he’s made for the last four years.

“Alright, I’m going to needー” The rest of the sentence died on his lips. Piper was gone. He peered around the room and found her examining the model he’d left on one of the displays. His stomach lurched. He’d spent weeks designing that model for a competition for the Vincent Design Institute. The results had come back earlier this week. They had been less than satisfactory. He swallowed thickly. He would have thrown it out already, but Ginger had insisted he keep it. She didn’t want his hard work going to waste.

Piper peered a little closer. Scrutinizing it. Picking apart every flaw, just like the judges had. His grip tightened on his pen. Just like he had since the results had come out. He pushed himself out of his seat and approached her.

“Are you done snooping around?”

Piper jumped away from the model. He met her sheepish gaze evenly as he crossed his arms. “Sorry,” she gestured to the model, “I was just admiring this. It’s really well made.”

Gust felt the heat flood into his cheeks. Pride swelled in his chest as he let his arms fall to his sides. At least someone seemed to notice its quality. “Well, thank you,” he said curtly, “I guess.”

Piper gaped. “Is this your design?”

He scoffed, “well, obviously.” He brushed past her and approached his model. He’d drawn inspiration from the logic cube Ginger sometimes played with. It was a boxy structure made up of three stories. Every level was skewed on a central axis to give it a unique shape. He’d used lots of windows and skylights to draw on natural light. “It was for a competition I entered last month,” He ran his finger along the edge of the top most story. Dust was already beginning to collect on its surface. “I didn’t win,” he continued bitterly, “they said it was too strange. They didn’t understand my vision. The crotchety old fools.”

Piper tilted her head to the side. “Well, those guys have no taste.” She knelt in front of the design and peered through one of its windows. “It’s so interesting. I’d love to see it full scale. It would be breathtaking.”

Gust narrowed his eyes and searched her face. She had to be messing with him. The people in Portia didn’t like his designs. She was tracing the angles of his design with his eyes. She wore a sincere, almost dreamy, smile as she examined his work. He stared a little longer before giving up. She genuinely liked it. The mere notion made his heart flutter in his chest.

“Have you studied architecture?”

Piper snorted. “Well, no,” she admitted as she stood back up, “but I’m a builder, so I make things for a living. Sometimes I like to admire the handiwork of others. Especially when they’re this talented.” She stuffed her hands back in her pockets and took a step back. “You think differently and I like that.”

“Unfortunately,” Gust regarded his model with a look of disdain, “you seem to be the only one who shares in that sentiment.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “It’s a shame they didn’t appreciate your design,” she was bouncing on the balls of her feet again, “If it makes you feel any better, I would have scored it well.”

Gust would be lying if he said it didn’t. It felt good to know that someone appreciated his work. His real work, not just the stuff he made to satisfy the town. He didn’t really have a lot of support in his creative endeavors. There was Albert of course, but he was more practical about these things. He did what had to be done to make money. Whatever made the client happy, he would do without question. His sister tried to show her support, but she lived a sheltered life and she didn’t quite understand his late night tirades about parapets and gables.

Piper was a builder. She understood construction and aesthetics to some degree. The materials he’d used to create this model had been given to him by his father. A halfhearted attempt to show his support, but the materials came from somewhere. Had she been the one to provide them?

Gust’s breath hitched. “Those materials my father got me,” he began slowly, “they came from you didn’t they?”

Piper shrugged. “Your father asked me to lend a hand. I was more than happy to help.”

“You sure like to be nosy, don’t you?” He tried to sound irritated as he brushed past her, but he couldn’t stop the smile that curved on his lips. The room had gotten significantly warmer. His heart was hammering so loud, he was afraid Piper would be able to hear it. He pressed a hand firmly to his chest and cleared his throat. “Now,” he slid back into his seat, “come over here and sign this. You’re wasting my time.”

“You’re not the only one with things to do.”

“Then do us both a favor and get over here.”

Piper didn’t argue and took the seat across from him. “Sign here, here, and here” He punctuated each word with the tip of his pen. “This is just the initial work order, so Albert will touch base with you later to go over the details.” He handed her the pen and shifted back in his chair.

As she read through the fine print, Gust gaze wandered back to the model across the room. He’d spent the last few days despairing over its imperfections. If only he’d made the angles a little cleaner, or if he’d spent a little more time conceptualizing, maybe then the judges would have liked it. He was nursing a big blow to his ego. He had even begun to doubt his abilities as an architect. Maybe he wasn’t as good as he thought he was.

It would be breathtaking. Her words resonated with him. He had thought the exact same thing when he drafted the first renditions. It would be nice to see it come to life.

“Is that all you need from me?”

Gust tore his gaze away from the model. Piper fidgeted in her seat. She really didn’t like sitting still, did she? “That’ll be all for now.” He picked up the order form and placed it in Albert’s pile off to the side. “I’ll begin drafting some concepts for you addition. When I’m done, Albert will bring them your way for review.”

“Ooo, a Gust original for my addition,” she beamed at him, “I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

Gust gave her a thin smile and he hid his twitching fingers in his lap. He could feel the thrill of inspiration course through his veins. He was itching to get started. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“I’ll try not to,” she winked and slipped out of her seat, “but I should really get going, so I’ll leave you to it. Thanks for your help.” She offered him a small wave. Gust watched her go, offering no farewell in return. She didn’t wait for one. Without another word, she slipped through the door and out into the plaza. The door jingled after her.

Gust was out of his seat in a flash and making a beeline for the model. He scooped it up in his arms and hurried up the stairs to his drafting table. Several ideas were already floating around in his head. He hadn’t been this excited about a project in awhile. He sat down at his table with renewed vigor and got straight to work.

#mtap #my time at portia #mtap gust #mtap builder

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arecomicsevengood · 3 years

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TOP TEN OLDER MAINSTREAM COMICS I READ THIS YEAR

I kept track of all the comics I read this year, and not all of them were new. I have no idea who this will help or benefit but at least the circumstances of me only listing the completely arbitrary older work I read for the first time this year will deter anyone from arguing with me. However, for the sake of possibly being contentious, let me mention two comics that fall outside the top ten, because they’re bad:

Trencher by Keith Giffen. David King did a comic strip about Keith Giffen’s art style on this book in issue 2 of But Is It... Comic Aht that everybody loved, and made me be like, ok, I’ll check it out. But it’s basically just a retread of Lobo in terms of its tone and approach, but without Simon Bisley. I don’t really know why anyone wouldn’t think Bisley is the better cartoonist. Also, those comics are terrible. Thumbs down.

The Green Lantern by Grant Morrison, Liam Sharp, and Steve Oliff. I bought the first year of these comics for a dollar each off a dude doing a sidewalk sale. Found them sort of incoherent? I haven’t liked a new Grant Morrison comic in ages, with All-Star Superman being really the only outlier since like We3. This is clearly modeled off of European comics like Druillet or something, and would maybe benefit from being printed larger, I really dislike the modeled color too. But also it’s just aggressively fast-paced, with issues ending in ways that feel like cliffhangers but aren’t, and no real characters of interest.

As for the top ten list itself, for those who’ve looked at my Letterboxd page, slots 10-8 are approximately “3 stars,” 7-4 are 3 1/2 stars, slots 3 and 2 are 4 stars, with number one being a 4 1/2 star comic. The comics I’m listing on my “Best Of The Year” list that’ll run at the Comics Journal alongside a bunch of people are all 4 1/2 or 5 star comics. This is INSANELY NERDY and pedantic to note, and I eschew star ratings half the time anyway, because assignations of numeric value to art are absurd except within the specific framework of how strong a recommendation is, and on Letterboxd I feel like I’m speaking to a very small and self-selecting group of people whose tastes I generally know. (And I generally would not recommend joining Letterboxd to people!) But what I mean by all of this is just that there is a whole world of work I value more than this stuff, and I’ll recommend the truly outstanding shit to interested readers in good time.

10. Justice Society Of America by Len Strazewski and Mike Parobeck. Did some quarantine regressing and bought these comics, a few of which were some of the first comics I ever read, but I didn’t read the whole thing regularly as a kid. Parobeck’s a fun cartoonist, this stuff is readable. It’s faintly generic/baseline competent but there’s a cheap and readable quality to this stuff that modern comics lack. Interestingly, the letters column is made up of old people who remember the characters and feel like it’s marketed towards them, and since that wasn’t profitable, when the book was canceled, Parobeck went over to drawing The Batman Adventures, which was actively marketed towards kids. It’s funny that him and Ty Templeton were basically viewed as “normal” mainline DC Comics for a few years there and then became relegated to this specific subset of cartooning language, which everyone likes and thought was good but didn’t fit inside the corporate self-image, which has basically no aesthetic values.

9. The Shadow 18 & 19 by Andy Helfer and Kyle Baker. I’d been grabbing issues of this run of comics for years and am only now finishing it. Kyle Baker’s art is swell but Helfer writes a demanding script, these are slow reads that cause the eye to glaze over a bit.

8. The Jam 3-8 by Bernie Mireault. I made a post where I suggested Mireault’s The Jam might be one of the better Slave Labor comics. Probably not true but what I ended up getting are some colored reprints Tundra did, and some black and white issues published by Dark Horse after that. Mireault’s art style is kinda like Roger Langridge. After these, he did a crossover with Mike Allred’s Madman and then did a series of backups in those comics, it makes sense to group them together, along with Jay Stephens’ Atomic City Tales and Paul Grist’s Jack Staff, or Mike Mignola’s Hellboy, as this stream that runs parallel to Image Comics but is basically better, a little more readable, but still feeling closer to something commercial in intention as opposed to self-expression. Although it also IS self-expression, just the expression of a self that has internalized a lot of tropes and interests in superhero comics. If you have also read a lot of superhero comics, but also a lot of alternative comics, stuff like this basically reads like nothing. It’s comfort food on the same level of mashed potatoes: I love it when it’s well-done but there’s also a passable version that can be made when depressed and uninspired. But drawing like Roger Langridge is definitely not bad!

7. WildC.A.T.S by Alan Moore, Travis Charest, et al. I wrote a post about these comics a few months ago, but let me reiterate the salient points: There’s two collections, the first one is much better than the second, and the first is incredibly dumbed-down in its nineties Image Comics style but also feels like the best version of that possible, when Charest is doing art. Also, these collections are out of print now, a friend of mine pointed out maybe they can’t be reprinted because they involve characters owned by Todd McFarlane but Wildstorm is owned wholly by DC now.

6. Haywire by Michael Fleischer and Vince Giarrano. I made a post about this comic when I first read a few issues right around the time Michael Fleischer died a few years ago, but didn’t read all of it then. This feels way more deliberately structured than most action comics, with its limited cast and lack of ties to any broader universe, but it’s also dumb and sleazy and fast moving, and feels related to what were the popular movies of the day, splitting its influences evenly between erotic thrillers about yuppies and Stallone-starring action movies. The erotic thriller element is mostly just “a villain in bondage gear” which is sort of standard superhero comics bullshit but it’s also a little bit deeper than that. The first three issues, inked by Kyle Baker, look the best.

5. Dick Tracy by John Moore and Kyle Baker. These look even better! A little unclear which John Moore this is? There’s John Francis Moore, who worked with Howard Chaykin and was scripting TV around this time, but there’s another dude who was a cartoonist who did a miniseries for Piranha Press and then moved on to doing work for Disney on Darkwing Duck comics. Anyway, Kyle Baker colors these, they’re energetically cartooned, each issue is like 64 pages, with every page being close to a strip or scene in a movie. I’m impressed by them, and there’s a nice bulk that makes them a nice thing to keep a kid busy. (For the record, my favorite Kyle Baker solo comic is probably You Are Here.)

4. Chronos by John Francis Moore and Paul Guinan. I was moving on from DC comics by the late nineties, but Grant Morrison’s JLA was surely a positive influence on everyone, especially compared to the vibe there in the subsequent two decades. These are well-crafted. There’s a little stretch where it uses the whole “time-traveling protagonist” thing to do a run of issues which stand alone but fall in sequence too and it’s pretty smooth and smart. The art is strong enough to carry it, the sort of cartoony faces with detailed backgrounds it’s widely agreed works perfectly, but that you rarely see in mainstream comics. The coloring is done digitally, but not over-modeled enough to ruin it.

3. Martha Washington by Frank Miller and Dave Gibbons. A few miniseries, all of which sort of get weaker as they go, but all in one book it doesn’t feel like it’s becoming trash as it goes or anything. When Miller dumbed down his storytelling in the nineties it really was because he thought it made for better comics, the tension between his interest in manga and Gibbons’ British-comics classicism feels productive. I do kind of feel like the early computer coloring ruins this a little bit.

2. Xombi by John Rozum and JJ Birch. Got a handful of these on paper, read scans of the rest. This is pretty solid stuff, not really transcendent ever, but feels well-crafted on a month-in, month-out level. I read a handful of other Milestone comics, and a lot of them suffered from being so beholden to deadlines that there are fill-in issues constantly. This is the rare one that had the same creators for the entirety of its run. There was a revival with Frazer Irving art a decade ago but I prefer JJ Birch’s black line art with Noelle Giddings’ watercolors seen here. They’re doing an early Vertigo style “weirdness” but with a fun and goofy sense of humor about itself. I haven’t read Clive Barker but this feels pretty influenced by that as well. (The Deathwish miniseries is of roughly comparable quality. I read scans of the rest of that after I made my little post and, yeah, it does actually feel very personal for a genre work, and the JH Williams art with painted color is great.)

1. Tom Strong by Alan Moore, Chris Sprouse, etc. I got bored reading these as a teen but getting them all for cheap and reading them in a go was a pretty satisfying experience. It’s partly a speed-run through Moore’s coverage of the concept of a comic book multiverse seen in his Supreme run, minus the riffing on Mort Weisinger Superman comics, instead adding in a running theme of rehabilitating antagonists whose goals are different but aren’t necessarily evil. It’s more than just Moore in an optimistic or nostalgic mode, it also feels like he’s explaining his leftist morality to an audience that has internalized conflicts being resolved by violence as the genre standard.

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