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astro-break · 4 years

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Quick first thoughts on the first ep of the Hypmic Anime. Spoilers beware (and im writing this as I watch so :p)

Otome’s speech is.... questionable from a persuasive point of view. Manga did a great job of introducing her (which you can read here) but they really cut out the more terrifying parts of her speech and how she uses force to show people that she's not to be messed with

Its cool seeing everyone in their respective environments though. thats cool. Though they could have added Sasara and Kuuko (shhh i know why they didn’t let me dream)

I love how poppy the typography is. Its amazing how the visuals just leap out at you. The OP does a great job of this. The first few seconds before the title really gives me Persona 4 OG OP vibes with the influx of information given. The rest is a clear concise and streamlined way that still gives character. Animation is sparse but still carries across a general idea of each character and shows off each character object. Rendering is really nice and pays a bit of homage to the posing artwork thats done for the MVs. They also do their division hand signals and thats cute

Love how the OP has blatant HifuDoppo and DRB matchup foreshadowing

so far I really like what theyre going for. BB is about brotherly familial bonds and they show the goods and the bads. Jiro and Saburo bickering right out the gate really cements the fact that they get along like cats and dogs but you can still see that they love each other, working together when the situation calls for it

Now the 3d models. Theyre... not great but usable if you don’t look too hard. They serve their purpose and don’t actively detract from the viewing experience.

Visual typography in the rap itself are fun and poppy but they dont.... speak to me? like theyre there yes and I appreciate them but the only ones that got me excited were from Ichiro’s rap

I take my words back the group portion was kickass and I apologize

I love how they interpret the Hypnosis Speakers though. Esp. Saburo’s organs. That was super creative and I love it! If there was one thing that I felt was missing from the franchise was a deeper exploration of the speakers but the anime puts a new and fresh spin on it! Love it, especially with their attack patterns!

If the production team ever feels inclined to, Id love to see those info sheets on Otome’s desk released. There seems to be very interesting info and stats written out about each member (like capabilities, personal status etc.) They all seem unique too so I really really really hope they release images of those sheets

OOOOOOOOKAY MTC. I have such a big biased for them so Im very torn to see what unfolds

Rio striking out on his own is interesting. Out of everyone in MTC hes the biggest team player yet here he trusts his teammates to go ahead. This either displays Rio’s willingness to trust his teammates or it becomes very OOC if the anime wants to set him up as a lone wolf like character

I love how they specify its a drug deal. It means that Jyuto surely will show up and it also shows that Samatoki knows Jyuto’s motives and willingly gives black market info that he knows aligns with Jyuto’s goal. Thats A+ detail writing there and a great establishing characteristic for both of them

OOohhhhhhhhhhhhh man Asunama-san’s voice acting is god tier his work as Samatoki is phenomenal. He pulls of Samatoki’s threatening voice so well with those almost calm words before his voice becomes loud and confrontational. Those rolling syllables in contrast to Komada-san’s almost lyrical and airy speech and Kamio-san’s strict and enunciated words is such a delight to hear. It just speaks to how amazing and great these Seiyuu’s are in order to pull of such amazing work

Im so biased but MTC has such a better rap than BB im so sorry. Just by watching Samatoki’s part, the imagery is amazing. Even the arrival of his Hypnosis Speaker was awesome and sent a shiver down my spine. using the lyrics to form blades and blood was such a great thing to do. Theres so much more variety that just him standing there and shots of his hypnosis speaker. The old fashioned vignette shots, the four panel spread, the nods to old Kurosawa era films are great and I love these small details. Even the typography looks better.

Again, the interpretations with the speakers is fresh and new. Its great and I love the different imagery and attack patterns. Each one is so unique but carries across each different style of rap.

The 3d modles aren’t any better tho lol

(Hi this is Astro who is reading over their assessment again and making a note. Yeah I’m a bit harsh on BB’s rap. I’m not going to change it since I still stand by it and this post is supposed to be a documentation of my first impressions. I think one of the reasons why I’m so harsh on BB is because of their dynamic as a trio of brothers. They Have to have a more uniform approach than the other divisions. Which in of itself isn’t a terrible thing, it just doesn’t catch my eye as much as MTC did. Thats all! I definitely don’t hate BB, they’re maybe my 3rd favorite division out of the current lineup [not including TDD era teams like Kujaku Posse, MCD, and Naughty Busters] its just that their rap was pretty meh)

Samatoki crouching like a real gangstar and the cigarette kiss killed me

sadjkhfjkasdghsadjkcsdjhsdfsjhf im dying i love these trio of dumbasses so uch oh y fod someone save me aaaaaaaa (Astro note here! yeah i died when the jyuto and samatoki’s stomach growled im weak please. Samatoki’s face is just so precious and funny I might set it as a profile pic somewhere)

But also my initial assessment of Rio possibly being characterized as a lone wolf is very much jossed and im very thankful for that. It seems that Rio was simply trusting his teammates to carry out their part of the plan while he carried out his own. I like that, it really shows how much of a team these three are and that they genuinely trust each other. He’s also comfortable enough around them to invite them to dinners after work casually and not just for special occasions.

I really love MTC guys

Oooh! we get Ramuda on his design process which is really cute. the inside of his studio is super cute and retro and i love it. the poppy old music you would hear in a cafe or 90′s resturaunt is also really cute (astro note: yeah i know that in ARB you see the interior of Ramuda’s office but its kinda different seeing it animated)

the translation i have has gentaro speaking in early modern english (Shakespearian english for those who aren’t english nerds like me) but from what I can hear, he doesn’t speak in a particularly old fashioned way? Its more formal than old? and hes speaking without any of his character persona lying thing that he likes to do (as he refers to himself as “Shousei” throughout the segment where hes in Ramuda’s office which is kind of his default pronoun of choice). so its kinda odd for the translation to go in that direction but im not complaining

Gendice banter is gold but it feels... flat? a little? it doesn’t have the same impact as in the drama cds or in the manga? i feel? Also Ramuda using gratuitous english is??? idk how to feel about that

kjshf thats against the rules Ramuda omgggg,,,,,,,, (astro note again: while watching i was under the assumption that using your hypmic for monetary gain such a as buskering [which is what FP is doing] is against the rules. May not be the case but whatever)

FP’s rap might be my favorite in terms of tune and lyrics though. It’s a nice laid back bop and really gives of chill vibes. the integration of 3d and 2d is really nice and i love how they play off each other in the rap. The wordplay is so fun with little nods here and there and the beat is poppy too so it really energizes me.

Ramuda’s rap concerns me slightly since he makes very subtle and small nods towards his past (being created in a laboratory, warfare, and his overall very unpleasant life experiences) but spins it into something cutesy. It could be a coping mechanism, it could be me overthinking it. But it does make me worry a bit. Gentaro and Dice’s rap really play off each other with Gentaro sticking to stories and Dice taking up the baton by carrying on that same imagery but putting his own spin on it.

the self awareness of how scattered they are as a team is interesting though. It doesn’t seem like something you’d speak about in a rap? but i guess since its not really a do or die situation they can afford to be looser on things like this.

Right off the bat, i don’t like how they handled Hifumi and Doppo in relation to Hifumi’s fear of women. Slug made a post once talking about this and I echo many of his sentiments. Hypmic has never been very tactful about tackling this particular issue and while I didn’t have high hopes that the anime would be any better it hurts to see Doppo take away the one thing that allows Hifumi to function within society.

Doppo’s breakdown mirrors a lot of my own mental state when I spiral though its shown a lot quicker than what happens to me oof. that hits close to home. though Jakurai’s advice is. Questionable. Its not the best advice to give to someone but we have no idea what kind of doctor Jakurai is so ill let it slide

Jakurai’s pose looks like hes going to do a mahou shoujou transformation lmao

I don’t have many thoughts about the rap though again. How they visualize the rap is interesting. the different imagery is quite interesting for each of them and the typography is nice a distinct but im still on the fence about the visuals here

The sound is in the same boat. The sound effects either drown out the rap or are too quet but some parts are nice at least. When they talk about Tokyo’s beating heart, the heartbeat sound is a but distracting especially since its only played once. But the imagery is at least nice

I wonder if for the eds they’re going to take a similar approach to what Enstars did and have a four different endings, one for each division. I love the blend of styles here and it really accentuates that although they’re different they mesh well together.

Ramuda’s silhouette though is hilarious. Love it.

:p and thats it. Uh not bad for a first episode. Established all 12 characters really nicely and their dynamics. I had some problems with it but then again nothing is perfect. I look forward to what they show us next week

#hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypnosis mic rhyme anima #hypnosis mic rythme anima spoilers #hypmic spoilers #my post

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testifytime · 4 years

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hi ardent!!! im here to be government kin assigned. you pretty much know most things about me by now, but i really love music and art! i also really like sports n science!! so, uh, a pretty wide variety of interests ghjklgh. i try hard to stay kind and optimistic, and i really care about my friends!!! ty for doin these, they seem so fun!!

-Cracks my knuckles- You didn’t specify so I’ll do all.

- A Pokemon team/type theme (+ fun facts abt your team!)

You’re a fairy-type user! Your main pokemon is Sylveon, though you also have a lil Togepi, Florges, Alcremie, Marill, and Ribombee!

Fun facts!

Your Sylveon evolved without you meaning it to! You were going to evolve it into a Vaporeon, but you befriended it so quickly that it evolved before you got the water stone!

Your Togepi likes to ride around in a little backpack you made specifically for it. It’s a huge sweetie, but it also a bit of a baby; it knows Fake Tears, so it often cries whenever it wants some attention.

Your Florges and Ribombee help you in your garden! Ribombee makes sure that all of the flowers are pollinated, and likes to help with watering them! Florges helped you plant all the flowers and how to place them beautifully, and now keeps a close eye on them for any signs of stress or illness - which, luckily, have never happened!

Your Alcremie was a gift from someone! It adores you with its whole heart, which can sometimes be a little messy; more than once it’s tried to jump into your arms, and you’ve ended up covered in sticky cream. Its sweet is a Heart, and its flavour is Mint!

Your Marill is a little different from the others. It’s a lot shyer, and tends to cling to your legs a little more. But it’s really good with kids!! It loves to go swimming with you in fresh water lakes.

- Bloodcaste/lusus/chumhandle as if you were a Homestuck troll (+lore)

You’re a bronzeblood with a Paradise Flycatcher lusus! Your chumhandle is amiableGaitey.

You live in a small house in a meadow far away from society, living a fairly simple - albeit hard - life. There’s a stream that you get most of your water from, and a clothesline that you dry your clothes from, and as soon as the sun sets, you lose all power. It’s... a bit of a pain, honestly, but you kind of like it! You eat the berries and fruits that grow in the orchard and bushes that surround your home, and sometimes you go foraging for nuts and mushrooms, but only if your lusus gives the go-ahead. You’re pretty sure a bunch of the plants near your home are deadly. You might have even made poison once? It’s kind of weird.

You spend a lot of your time outside, going for walks and picking flowers to put into scrapbooks. Sometimes you’ll take your camera with you, and take pics of all the cool plants that you have around your home! It’s fun to show your friends later, when they’re all online, and it encourages you to go out every day just a little further to see what new things you can find. You’ve even turned it into a bit of a game! So far, you’ve managed to follow your river all the way down to the cliff that it drops from, have climbed up it, and have gone racing through the woods above. The exercise is great! You love it maybe more than anything else, and you couldn’t imagine giving it up for anything in the world.

When you’re at home, you like to spend most of your time talking to your friends online. Your husktop is solar-powered, so you settle down in a nice sunny spot just outside your home and curl up against a big beancushion for hours until that itch to get going hits you again. Sometimes you draw - they’ve gotten you into drawing more and more frivolous things, things for you, things you might not have indulged in if they hadn’t encouraged you to - and sometimes you play games. Most of the time it’s just talking and having fun, though, and you love it! You’re pretty sure you’re all going to be friends for a very long time. You hope so, anyway.

Your lusus is pretty small. They’re kind of fae-like, if you’re honest, and they often warn you against going in mushroom circles or going too deep into the woods. They’re a supersticious little thing, really! But they make a great navigator when you’re out and about, and they warn you of oncoming trouble pretty quick, so you don’t mind having to do weird things like hop on the stepping stones of a river after saying a little thank you.

- Symbol/guardian/chumhandle as if you were a Homestuck kid (+lore)

Your symbol is a styalised bass clef that looks like a heart, and you live with your auntie! Your chumhandle is appreciativeGuitarist.

You and your auntie live in a tiny cottage at the foot of a mountain surrounded on all sides by a field of wildflowers. The kitchen doubles as a dining room, and your livingroom really only fits a small, old-fashioned tv and a sofa that’s a little too worn for wear at this point. But you have your own room! And you’ve got all your things in there, including your bike, which is kind of a pain to get in and out all the time, but you make it work. You have a small desk for your drawingpad and laptop, and a tiny bed you just about fit on, and it’s maybe a little small? But it’s also filled to the brim with clothes you love and stuffed toys you’ve collected over the years, so it’s pretty good, all things considered. Homey, more than anything.

You love to draw! You’ve really improved in the last few years, you think, and you’re getting more confident about posting your art again - so you draw, and draw, and you think maybe you’re starting to see what your friends have been telling you! You like to draw fantasy things, of yourself in different scenarios or just spending time with your friends, all of which you do on your drawing pad. It’s a pretty neat little thing to have, admittedly, though you don’t always get to save your art in the process unless you send it to yourself and save it on your phone - but it means that you’re more inclined to send your art to your friends, and you’re pretty sure they love seeing what you’ve made.

You love to go out and about, and your little space in nature gives you the perfect place to release all that pent up energy. There’s planty of beaten paths for you to follow, and a whole moutain for you to trek up if you want! You’ve gotten lost a few times, but that’s okay; the wifi signal is weirdly good up there, and it’s easy enough to figure out a way back down again before nightfall. It makes for a pretty good bike track, too, with plenty of dips and bumps that make your stomach flip whenever you go over them too fast.

You have a bunch of friends online! Actually, you have a bunch of people who just kind of flock to you for guidance and leadership, too? It’s a little weird, and it can be a bit intimidating, but you really like being able to help people, even if it means overwhelming yourself sometimes to be good at it. Your friends make it worth it, anyway. They make you laugh and make you feel better when you’re down - which doesn’t happen often, but sometimes it’s hard to keep smiling, and they remind you that that’s okay - and they make such wonderful things with you!! You love being able to talk to them, love spending time with them, and even love getting teased by them (which, you tease them back, of course).

You like to sit out in the field of flowers just as the sun starts to set, and the sky slowly turns from blue to orange. The wind rustles the flowers around you and curls your hair around your cheeks, and sometimes, you wonder if maybe you’re not alone.

- A FNAF animatronic design and name

You’re a sweet, pink and white boardercollie with lots of hearts in your design! Your eartips are curled over, your pupils and nose heart-shaped, and you have cute little toebeans on each paw. Your chest fur, paws, belly, and the underside of your tail are white, along with your muzzle and a stripe up to your forehead, but every other part of you is a beautiful pastel pink!

You’re designed to be a friend to any child who seems upset or let out at a party, to make them feel special and to bring them back into the fun or even just to spend the whole day with them!

You have a designated name - Collie - but you like to let the kids decide what to name you, too. It’s fun! And it helps to make them feel like you’re a Special Friend, so you often get trusted with their secrets - like if another kid is a bully, or if they’re maybe not too happy at home. You do your best to make their time at the pizzaria as fun and happy as possible to make up for all the bad things they have to deal with - and honestly, they love going to Freddy’s just to see you! It’s their favourite place in the whole wide world because they know you’re there.

(You also tend to send information back to the owners about anything worrying you’ve heard while out on the floor. This has saved a lot of kids. They’ve often come back in smiling brighter than you’ve ever seen them, and they haven’t needed you after that, but that’s okay. You know that’s for the best.)

- A BNHA Quirk and hero title

Your quirk is Uplift, which allows you to raise the spirits of any person who hears your voice! It doesn’t matter how down they are or how villainous they may be; as soon as they hear you, their hearts are filled with brightness and warmth. The downside to your quirk, unfortunately, is that it can be draining on you: sometimes you Uplift others so much, that your own mood starts to drop, and you start to get emotionally tired. When this happens, you just need a little company, warmth, and love to get you back to normal. Cuddlepuddles with blankets and hot chocolate ARE common after training.

Your hero title is The Inspiring Hero: Restoraise! You’re more of a support hero than a daylight one, and not very high on the charts, but that’s not what matters to you. What matters is keeping people calm and full of hope whenever you’re on the scene - be that upset civillains, trapped victims, or even hopeless villains. You refuse to let anyone down if there’s even a slim chance that everyone can be saved or redeemed!

#ukeealyptus #long post//#heartless prince rambles

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mithranqueersmusings · 4 years

Text

Before This Dance Is Through V

Chapter: 5/16

Rating: M (Smut Warning)

Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.

Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Despite what John had suggested, Ringo didn't go back to The Helter Skelter the following week; he'd considered it when John sent him yet another late night text but ultimately decided it wasn't the best idea. Spike had been playing on his mind daily and Ringo wasn't sure he was prepared to face him again. Instead he focused on his drumming and searched for a few more students to teach, which were fairly easy to find. Usually Ringo enjoyed his time off, he understood he was lucky that he didn't have to work a 9-5 job just to get by, but recently he wanted his fill his time up as much as possible, to distract himself.

One of his new students seemed incredibly interested in him, they'd spent an hour just chatting in his living room before they'd even moved over to the drum kit. Ringo wasn't too fussed, he was getting paid by the hour so wasting time was beneficial to him but he didn't want to give the guy the wrong impression. He was a little bit older and attractive enough but Ringo simply wasn't interested.

"Why didn't you just go for it?" John had asked him when they next met up.

"I dunno..." Ringo mumbled, but a part of him knew very well.

He'd given the guy another lesson since then and it became clear that the guy's interest in him wasn't going away any time soon. Ringo felt bad about the whole thing, wasn't he just doing exactly what Spike was doing to him? He tried to act as professional as possible the second time around in attempt to get the guy to back off, considering he hadn't heard from him since he was hoping it had worked. What was wrong with him? Was he really going to make himself suffer like this all because of one guy? And not just any guy, a stripper who had shown absolutely no interest in him at all. It was ridiculous, he kept telling himself, but no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he had to get over Spike, he would still think about him every day without fail. Trying to distract himself with clients had been working somewhat, but it had been difficult, especially when his best friend was John Lennon.

youre gonna love me

The text came through when Ringo was sat in a café getting some lunch. He'd finished with one of his younger students, a sweet girl who's parents had tried to convince her to try a more 'ladylike' instrument but she had promised only to give up the drums if she was awful; much to her delight, and Ringo's for being able to prove the stereotypical parents wrong, she was pretty good. Seeing her always put Ringo in a good mood, the parents mostly stayed away partly due to the noise but mostly due to disappointment, which meant they could joke around together. Ringo could tell she admired him and he welcomed it gladly, one of the best things about teaching was inspiring others, at least for him it was.

do i not already?

well yes but youre gonna love me EVEN more

what have you done

well i happened to stop by the club last night

oh god what did you do

wow is that how little you trust me

can you blame me

suppose not ANYWAY i got talking to paulie

surprise surprise

do you want the good news or not???

fine fine sorry

AS I WAS SAYING i was talking to paulie and he told me that your special little someone has an onlyfans account

first of all fuck you for calling him that second of all wtf is onlyfans

oh sorry i didnt realise you werent living in the 21st century

...... care to grace me with your knowledge?

basically its a website where you can post exclusive stuff for ONLY FANS to see its not a porn site or anything but its basically where people sell their nudes MEANING spike has an account so you can totally see loads of raunchy filthy perverted pics of him

but i have to pay?

well weve all gotta make a living

i can basically see him naked for free

but this way you wont get all freaked out and embarrassed well you will but nobody will know at least so do you want the link or not???

Ringo paused for a few moments, he was gripping his phone tightly in both of his hands as he unblinkingly looked at John's words. If his mind was going to decide to make him suffer by enabling his intense interest in Spike, he may as well get something out of it.

fine

where are your manners richard??

can i please have the link to the strippers nude photos please john please

alright calm down let me know if its worth while i might have a look

idk if im even gonna look at it paying for porn is a little dated

treat yourself ringo id offer to pay but im broke

if youre broke why were you at the strip club last night?

well SOMEONE had to go

they really didnt

im supporting my local economy

i dont think thats how that works

sure it is anyway here you go

Ringo stared at the link for a while, his eyes even began to blur, he didn't want to risk opening it in public even though he knew there was little chance of anyone seeing. He finished his lunch in a hurry and headed home quickly, only when he was in the privacy of his bedroom did he dare open it. First he had to make an account, when he saw the screen loading up asking for an email address and password he just turned his screen off and put the phone down. This was far too much effort for something he shouldn't really have been doing in the first place. But it only took a few minutes for him to pick the phone back up and begin signing up, he used an old email as it felt less seedy that way and he didn't want to risk his name cropping up anywhere for Spike to see. Now he could load up the link properly and take a proper look at Spike's profile.

Just looking at the small profile picture was enough to startle Ringo a little, the dark eyes looking into the camera with that unreadable glimmer behind them. He was shirtless in the picture, Ringo wondered why that didn't catch his attention first, with the frame cutting off just before it showed anything too explicit. The header was a photo taken from the club, showing him in tight, leather pants and tassels on his nipples which matched the whip he held in his hand. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He'd spent so much time and effort trying not to think about this man, attempting to keep him out of his mind as much as possible. Ringo knew that if he went through with this all that progress would be lost, he'd be giving in to whatever strange obsession he'd developed for Spike, one that no doubt wasn't going to lead to anything good.

Ringo kept staring at the screen as though it was going to tell him what he should do. Spike's profile had no description, which wasn't very surprising, and it dashed any hope Ringo had of discovering something new about him. Right before he was about to put his phone down again, it vibrated.

howd the wank go??

john i dont care how long weve been friends asking how my wank was will always be weird

youre right sorry so how did it go???

if you must know i havent had a wank i havent even paid for entry

now whos the one being inappropriate??

ha ha

why havent you???

feels weird

oh i see youll consume a bunch of unethical porn for free but god forbid you actually give sex workers any actual money

you are the last person who can lecture me about unethical porn

hey now watch yourself ringo if you dont get a subscription I WILL

go ahead

and ill tell you every day what sexy sexy pictures hes posting ill tell you EVERY SINGLE TIME i have a wank over them

every time? i dont think youve got enough data for that

im not joking

neither am i you wank A LOT

ringooooo just buy it i swear to god if its not worth it or you regret it or whatever ill give you the money back

on top of the money you already owe me?

have you always been such a capitalist

youre not doing a very good job of convincing me

fine spikes cock now are you convinced???

maybe

naked pictures of spike whenever and wherever you want them all for the low low price of 10 quid a month convinced??

fine fine if itll shut you up

im starting to think thats code for 'i really wanna do this but im too embarrassed to admit it'

i hate you

now that DEFINITELY code for 'john youre right' anyway theres no time to be telling me how right i am all the time youve got dick pics to look at even i wont stand in the way of a good wank so dont bother replying to me until youve paid for that subscription young man

im older than you

DONT BOTHER REPLYING

Ringo let out a sigh and rested his head against the bedroom wall from where he was laying on the bed. He opened up the link again and his thumb hovered over the subscription button, why couldn't he just do it? The money wasn't an issue, it could've cost half as much or be double the price and he'd still be debating it all the same. Somehow it felt like an invasion of privacy, after all Spike hadn't told Ringo about it himself, but then again that didn't necessarily mean he didn't want Ringo to see it. After all it was like John said: everyone has to make a living somehow. Sometimes Ringo wished he could turn off that part of his brain that was so empathetic, so concerned about how everyone felt and what they were thinking. He knew that he wanted this, so why wasn't he allowing himself to have it? Ringo could see that he was being ridiculous, as he was with almost anything involving Spike, and after lying there for a while pondering and debating he decided to flip a coin. Heads would mean he got the subscription, tails that he didn't. He watched the coin spinning through the air after he flicked it upwards, then snatched it and slammed it down onto his forearm before slowly moving his hand away: it was tails. What a relief. Ringo chuckled to himself for being so foolish, settling down into his bed; it was still only around midday but he didn't have anywhere he needed to be.

So why didn't he feel relieved in the slightest?

This whole thing was getting tiring, the constant debate between what he believed he should do and what he wanted to do, and it seemed like it wasn't going to be ending anytime soon. Apparently he was in this for the long run, whatever that meant, but if he was going to turn down relatively attractive guys practically throwing themselves at him, he may as well go all the way. While he was putting in his credit card information, he stopped to think around three of four times, but once he'd finished and the images became accessible to him, his brain was barely able to conjure up a coherent sentence.

"Jesus..." Ringo breathed out as his eyes flicked across the plethora of pictures loading up on his screen.

There was a lot of them, and a lot of Spike was on display. Most of them were pictures taken at the club, either from a professional photographer in the audience or photos he'd taken himself in the mirrors backstage - Ringo could even see glimpses of Paul in the background of some of them. The ones that caught Ringo's eyes the most were those that seemed to be taken in his house, these also happened to be the ones in which Spike tended to be fully naked. It was very different experience to see him like this: a static image that he'd intentionally taken of himself and posted for so many people to see, an image that couldn't look back at Ringo and make him feel that strange mixture of excitement and shame. He began scrolling down the feed which only revealed more and more enticing photos. Ringo began to feel himself hardening, he suspected it had been happening for a while now but he'd been far too distracted to notice. He felt like a teenager discovering porn for the first time, it was difficult to remind himself that this wasn't anything new. Seeing Spike naked shouldn't have excited him so much, and yet it did.

One picture in particular drew Ringo's attention: Spike was stood in front of a bathroom mirror with a loose black tie lying against his bare chest, one hand was holding a phone and the other gripping his cock. He had dark eye make up on and his hair was messy. Ringo wasn't sure exactly what it was about this photo that was so enticing but he couldn't take his eyes off it. The prominence of his collarbones, the faint curls of his dark hair, how his slim fingers wrapped around himself. Slowly Ringo slid his own hand under the waistband of his boxers as he stared at the picture. At first he hesitated, his fingers stopped right above the base. It's not like this would've been the first time he'd touched himself while thinking about Spike, it would've been far from the last he imagined, but this was different. It was more concrete, more of an admission. Nothing felt quite as real when it's only being imagined, the haziness of lust fuzzing up the mind as it so often did, but now with a very real photo of Spike in front of him - which he'd paid to see - the feeling was far more tangible, far harder to ignore.

He'd come this far, he told himself as his hand sunk lower until his fingers were running along the length of his semi-hard cock, he may as well go all the way. To begin with Ringo stayed looking at this single picture as he slowly pumped himself, but as his lust began to grow he perused through more and more pictures: Spike kneeling naked in front of a mirror with a loose cigarette hanging from his lips, lying in the bath with bubbles only just about covering his nakedness, spread out on the bed with a gag in his mouth, handcuffs forcing his slim arms behind his back with his cock throbbing. None of this was anything Ringo hadn't seen before, like most people in this day and age he'd searched through the darker corners of the internet - sometimes willingly, sometimes John was to blame - but to see Spike in such a way was like an entirely new rush. Each picture drove Ringo further and further on, at times he almost dropped his phone with how sloppy his movements were becoming. Who took these photos? Ringo figured it was best not to think about it, the possibility that Spike had a boyfriend who took all these pictures of him would've been the quickest way to kill his erection.

Ringo began moaning and cursing wantonly as he got closer and closer to his orgasm, he had to stop flicking through the pictures because he could hardly concentrate on what his other hand was doing, so he settled on a final one to help him finish; it wasn't particularly strategic but he was definitely grateful that he selected the one that he did. In it Spike was looking directly into the camera, allowing Ringo to gaze longingly into the rich brown of his eyes and how his dark lashes curled beautifully around them. He was shirtless with nothing but a necklace on, the same necklace that Ringo had seen him wearing in the record store and Ringo couldn't help feeling a sense of satisfaction that he'd seen it with his own eyes, as though it meant something. Deep down he knew that it didn't but his inebriated mind was latching onto it. The nudity in the photo was hardly interesting Ringo by this point, although it would be wrong to say that he completely ignored the flatness of his stomach or the faint shadows of his ribs beneath his pale skin, it was the personal aspect which truly affected him.

This wasn't just lust. Lust Ringo could understand, he could compartmentalise it and give into it without much shame or a second thought. If this was just lust, he would've bought the subscription without a care and touched himself looking at the nakedness of Spike's body as though it meant nothing more than a way to get off. Yet here he was on the brink of orgasm looking into another man's eyes, eyes that felt like they were looking straight back at him as though they were sharing this moment together. It wasn't hard to imagine Spike's hand in place of his own, those deep eyes watching Ringo come undone piece by piece. Ringo's hip began to stutter, his leg twitching a little as he had to drop the phone down onto his lap as his head fell back against his pillow as his orgasm approached. It wasn't the image of Spike's naked body that filled Ringo's mind as he came, it wasn't his arse or his cock or even his chest, it was his face, his voice, it was him.

Ringo lay breathless on his bed for a while, the clarity that arrived as his orgasm subsided wasn't welcome in the slightest and he was reluctant to pick his phone back up to see Spike's eyes looking at him once again. There was no use in feeling ashamed about it, no point in trying to deny it any longer: his feelings for Spike were more than a mere passing fancy, that was clear. Exactly what he was meant to do about these feelings was far from clear but that wasn't something Ringo could figure out right now with cum on his stomach and the daylight seeping through his bedroom curtains.

When he'd picked up his phone he'd closed all the apps immediately, doing his best not to catch a glimpse of what he'd been so eagerly looking at before. Just as he was about to step into the shower to clean himself off, his phone buzzed; he almost couldn't hear it over the music he was blasting out. It alerted him for a moment as though it was going to be a message from Spike stating he knew exactly what Ringo had just done - it wouldn't have really surprised him had that been the case, Spike's face almost always looked like he knew something that nobody else did - but fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it was John.

sooo how did the wank go

who knows but on a totally unrelated note im about to get into the shower

well before you do that i have even more good news

can it not wait?

NO because you might cum just at the thought of it and then youd be wasting a good shower

well arent you considerate and unnecessarily graphic

thats me anyway im taking you to the club next tuesday whether you like it or not

im still waiting for the good news

well if youd let me FINISH next week theyre doing a special event and we just have to go youll never guess what it is

what is it?

guess

you just said ill never guess

youre no fun

WHAT IS IT

alright alright keep your hair on its a crossdressing event high heels make up probably a few wigs all that good stuff

im still waiting for the good news

OH COME ON youre telling me you dont want to see spike in heels and fishnets with some lovely lipstick on

Ringo gulped. It wasn't a difficult image to conjure up his mind, considering he'd been staring at photos of Spike for the past twenty minutes and it excited him to say the least. He did want to see that, very much indeed.

#the beatles #beatles #beatles fanfic #the beatles fanfic #beatles fanfiction #george harrison/ringo starr #ringo starr/george harrison #ringo starrxgeorge harrison #george harrisonxringo starr #starrison

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 5 years

Text

Staying Up - Joe Trohman x Reader

Summary: The fans are worried after Joe looked very tired at an award show, so he clarifies things

Reader: implied female, but not necessarily.

Word count: 1 449

A/N: had this idea after I saw some pics of fob at an award show and pictures of joe with his daughters. Also: Happy belated Birthday, Joe. I didn’t forget you. I’m actually wearing a shirt with your face on it as I’m proof reading

A smile was stretching over your face as you opened Instagram that morning, and found your feed filled with pictures of Fall Out Boy at last night’s award show. It had been the first time in years that you had not accompanied your husband Joe to the event, but your three months old daughter had a cold, and you wanted to make sure she had you around. Also you could not risk having whoever would jump in as a baby sitter to get ill; that would just be unfair. Not to mention that Rosie just was crying all the time and not being quiet for one second, unless someone was carrying her around.

Admittedly, you were a little sad that you had not been able to accompany Joe, had not even managed to stay up late to welcome him home. But he had assured you that it was fine. He knew how tired you were with Rosie terrorising you the whole time, and when he had found you tight asleep on the couch, Rosie sleeping on your belly, he had only carefully covered both of you with a soft blanket.

Now you were sitting at the breakfast table. Rosie had woken you up at 5am, and after you had checked if Joe had gotten home, you had carried the baby through the house for almost two hours, feeding her, changing her dippers, trying to make everything as comfortable as possible for her, but she was just in a bad mood, being sick and all.

So after you had gotten her to fall asleep around 8am, you finally allowed yourself some breakfast. Rosie was lying in the crib in the dining room, Joe was, just like the world outside, still asleep, and you finally got a few quiet moments for yourself. And looking at pictures from last night, seemed the best way to spend it. Some of the pictures had been posted by the official Fall Out Boy Instagram, some by Pete, Andy had posted a couple of snaps too, and some photographers, as well as other musicians you were following had taken photos, and published them, too.

You scrolled through your Fall Out Boy dominated feed, and could not help but smile. Damn, Joe had really looked good. He always did, but when he was wearing a suit… that was always something different. With a chuckle you shook your head. Sitting at breakfast, crushing on pictures of a musician, like back in high school, you thought. Only that now that musician was actually lying in your bed, and you were married. Hell, you would not want it any different.

Stopping at the next picture of the band, you noticed how tired Joe looked. He had tried to help you loads with Rosie, and you had a feeling he had been staying up at night to keep her company so you could sleep.

And sure enough, you were not the only one who had noticed the dark circles under Joe’s eyes. Not only in the comment section of this picture, but in many others as well, you found an increasing number of fans commenting on how worn out Joe looked. Some worried about whether he was getting enough sleep; others theorized he was sick, saying he should get some proper rest.

It touched you, seeing the fans worrying, but there really was no reason too, as far as you knew. So just when you wanted to take a note to tell Joe he should maybe address the fan’s worries about his health, Rosie started crying again, and you quickly hurried over to the crib to calm her down.

You only remembered the whole thing in the evening, when Joe, who had gotten up soon after Rosie had started crying, had told you to go to bed, because you were obviously drop dead tired.

“Hey, that reminds me,” you turned around to Joe, who was trying to get Rosie’s little fingers out of his curls, “I saw some people worrying about you on Instagram this morning; you looked pretty tired yesterday evening.”

“Really,” Joe looked up to you, for a moment allowing his daughter to pull on his hair, which he quickly regretted once she pulled too hard.

“Yeah, they think you’re sick or something,” you took in his appearance.

The idea did not come out of nowhere. He did look tired and a little pale, but other than that he showed no signs of illness. But then again he was good at hiding it, like the time he had insisted on going to your parents’ silver wedding, even though he had been seriously ill, but he had pretended it was only a little cold. And the next day he had been so sick that he had been unable to get out of bed, and you had to stay at your parents’ house for almost a week until he was well enough to travel.

“You’re not sick, are you?”

You added the question, just to be sure, having learnt not to trust him blindly in that matter.

He chuckled lowly, finally managing to get the little sticky baby fingers of Rosie out of his curls.

“No, I’m not, just tired,” he assured you with a soft smile.

“Maybe you should, I don’t know, send a quick tweet or something, so the fans can stop worrying,” you suggested, making him nod.

“Want to film a quick video,” he suggested, making you laugh.

“The way I look? Rather not,” you giggled.

Rosie looked over to you in confusion.

“You look amazing, come here,” Joe insisted.

Knowing he would not let it go until you gave in, and too tired to put up a fight, you walked over to the sofa, and sat down, Joe sitting down closely next to you, handing Rosie to you so he could film a short message.

“Hey guys,” he greeted, after he had pressed record, “(y/n) said that some of you’ve been worrying about me ‘cause I looked super tired yesterday. But I can promise you it’s all fine.”

He got interrupted by some incomprehensible babbling from Rosie, which made both of you smile, and you quickly turned her so she was looking over your shoulder.

“Yeah, exactly,” Joe laughed, as if he was agreeing to what Rosie had been sharing with you, “well, actually this little thing there,” he pointed to his daughter, “is the reason I, we,” he gestured between you and him, “are super exhausted. Rosie’s been sick, and I thought it would just be fair to be looking after her during the night so her mummy here,” he demonstratively wrapped his arm around your shoulder, “could get a little sleep as well. So that’s all there is. I’m fine, Rosie’s got a cold, but we’re all three super tired.”

“I’ll make sure he gets some sleep soon,” you added with a smile, unable to supress the little glance over to your husband who was trying not to yawn.

“Okay, I guess that’s about it, Trohmans out, good night.”

Joe pressed the red button again, stopping the recording, and finally allowed himself to yawn.

Quickly he posted the video on Instagram and Twitter, with a short caption before he turned back to you. You were already half asleep, Rosie, magically, also quiet for once. Maybe the cold was finally getting better.

“Hey darling, let’s go to bed,” Joe suggested, and took the sleepy baby from you, carrying her into the bedroom.

You followed soon after, finding that Joe had already placed her in the little extension of your bed, which allowed you to reach over to her, or even to pull her into your bed, during the night, without having to get up.

Rosie was tight asleep, her eyes closed, her breathing regular, her little fists closed tightly.

“Finally,” Joe sighed, sitting down on his side of the bed, and falling back against the soft pillow.

“Don’t jinx it,” you warned with a smile, and crawled into bed next to him.

Like a reflex, years of sharing a bed having trained him, Joe wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you into him. You suspected that it was some kind of conditioning, that you felt safe and loved and happy the second you were able to bury your nose in his shirt, but on the other hand it was Joe, so it was very possible that it was simply his mere presence that caused this reaction.

You closed your eyes, breathing in the familiar and comforting scent of your husband, listening to the quiet breathing of your daughter and Joe’s steady heartbeat, and before you even knew it, you had fallen asleep in his arms.

#joe trohman x reader #joe trohman fluff #joe trohman x reader fluff #joe trohman imagine #fob #fall out boy #fall out boy imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #dad!joe

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lifeofalaurie · 6 years

Text

my uwc story

i remember reading through uwc blogs when i had just found out about uwc and when i was applying and going through all those months of WAITING for the next step...and they were so helpful. im so glad these exist

i first found out uwc through my brother’s friend, who actually went to UWC atlantic college (where im headed!!!!) a few years back. it was one ordinary saturday afternoon (idk if it was actually saturday but that sounds right) and we were carpooling with said friend (usually i dont participate in these but i happened to be in the car that day) and we were talking about next year and whatever and she just kinda said that she wasn’t going to be back next year bc she was going to this ‘abroad’ program. i didnt even really think about it that much. i in fact forgot about it after that...apparently my dad did not.

so my dad would talk about it here and there but i was NOT INTERESTED for that whole year..then...i started researching a bit myself and thought oh this sounds kind of cool. i still didn't really get what UWC even was or if was even a legit thing. it just sounded like another boarding school (a huge NO for me). then i saw that there was a such thing as a “short program” (or maybe someone actually told me about it) and i decided to apply for the one at the USA campus in New Mexico. i remember writing the essays over winter break and thinking they were pretty terrible (there was also a skype interview involved and that was rough) so i was pretty shocked when i found out i had gotten in but it worked out well bc my fam was going to arizona anyway a week before that so i just flew to new mexico myself after that (i say that casually but we had to cancel tickets and get new ones so that i could go to new mexico instead of home PLUS i had to fly for myself for the first time and i was pretty confused). (also, the program is called global leadership forum or GLF)

after hermit’s peak hike (ALL UPHILL FOR A SOLID 4-5 HOURS) i think it was like 8 miles IDK. view was so nice though 10/10

GLF turned out to be an amazing experience and really solidified my trust in UWC and confirmed to me that it was indeed a real thing. i really loved how much we did in those 2 and half weeks or so - camping, hiking, interacting w wolves, having important discussions - and it really pushed me to decide to apply to UWC for real. maybe ill talk more about it in another post!!!!

ok so coming home i did even more research and really really started liking UWC and decided that i might as well try to apply. i knew they never had a certain ‘criteria’ for students but i also knew it was a long and stressful process and involved really digging deep so i really didn’t think much of it (didn’t think i really had a chance) after submitting my written application. and then began the long waiting game...

here’s a nice picture of the sky @ a wolf reservation! just wanted to add a nice pic

i never joined any of those fb groups or college confidential things for applicants and good thing bc looking at some of them now stress me out so i wouldve probably been even more stressed if i had been involved in that. also i didnt even know they existed until later so thats also probably why.

anyway i had totally forgotten about UWC (more like i was sure they’d forgotten about me or there had been something wrong like my application wasn’t submitted or something) bc i didnt hear back until the end of november (i submitted the application early october). but finding out i was a semifinalist was kind of traumatic bc in my GLF snapchat group one of my friends (who’s going to Pearson this year!!!) said he’d moved on to the next stage and i hadn’t GOTTEN ANY EMAIL. i think i just accepted it that that was the end. but then a few hours passed when i finally decided to check a different email and, alas, there it was. so a few days later, i got an email from my interviewer when we should do our skype interview and it turned out to be the same day i was taking the ACT. good

the interview turned out to be completely ok and actually really great (enjoyable even!!?). if youre at that stage, seriously the best advice i have is to just chill and be honest when youre answering. also, make it more like a conversation rather than the interviewers (yes there are prob going to be more than 1 but i assure u its ok) asking u questions back and forth. think of it as a conversation- that helped me so much to relax. the interviewers just wants to talk to you and find out what kind of person you are and if youre the same one that wrote all those deep meaningful essays from the written application - so if you were honest from the start youll be completely fine...if not, well..sry

after that, school and extracurriculars and life really went up for me and i just forgot about UWC again. i never really told any of my friends about it or anyone except for my parents. i kind of wanted it to be a personal thing- get in or not in the end.

after a really good last day of school before winter break, i went to the town library (lol) and checked my phone and therE IT WAS. I WAS A FINALIST WHICH MEANT I WOULD BE GOING TO THE UWC USA CAMPUS FOR FINALIST WEEKEND. did not know what to expect

waiting for finalist weekend felt looooong

but it came

i flew there myself AND IT WASNT EVEN DIRECT and i remember feeling so independent and proud for making it. it turned out i was one of the later ones and in the last group to be bussed over (but i met a friend on the bus who i still talk to here and there who is going to RBC this yr!!). we were so late we missed the initial meeting and first night of activities and just went straight to the hotel. at the hotel i saw my interviewer and she gave me a hug (<3) and that helped calm me down and it was also really nice to see her in person bc i remember really liking her during our skype interview. then finalist weekend happened. and im pretty sure im not supposed to expose the process so all i can say was that it was actually so genuinely fun and a real good time

UWC USA <3

at the end we all exchanged social media and fb and all that and started a messenger group chat -- as nice as it was to be able to connect to everyone, i think it really stressed everyone out. they told us that results would come out early that week (FALSE). THAT WEEK AFTER FINALIST WEEKEND WAS THE MOST STRESSFUL THING EVER. IT TOOK YEARS FOR IT TO GO BY. i remember constantly checking my email between classes and everyone in the group chat wondering if anyone had heard. then on wed night, we all got an email that said the results would be notified by friday instead. the worst

i remember that friday evening i was packing for my first hackathon (it was fun) and thinking the call wouldnt come until later that night. people were freaking out all over the group chat. then, as i was scrambling packing my sweatpants into my bag, the home phone started ringing and i ran..RAN TO THE PHONE. it said my interviewer’s name on the caller ID and i was like OK THIS I S REAL. and i picked it up and it turned out i was too late so i frantically called back probably 10 times on multiple different phones (my efforts did not work). but then, i got a call to the home phone again and it was her so i picked up RIGHT AWAY and when she told me... i kid you not that i screamed and ran around my house a few times. so thats it. it was kind of a really long and sstressful process for sure, but SOO WORTH IT. i definitely learned a lot just from that process bc it makes you think and reflect a lot all throughout. weeee

if youre even thinking about applying please GO FOR IT (well as long as ur in the right age limit, 16-18.... and also make sure you’ve done some research to get a feel for it).. but just DO IT. and u can ask me questions if u want and ill answer to the best of my personal ability (but remember that im just one person and one experience and each person’s experience is completely different)

here is the general website btw:

https://www.uwc.org/

i will probably do another post to explain UWC - at least in my own words and perspective!

<3 <3 <3

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ftb-writes · 5 years

Text

Okay, so I had writer's block all week so I dug out the first chapter of what I had intended to be a multi chapter novel that I started just before getting my retail job. I haven't had any time to work on it further, but it does make for a good read so far, and I even have a few pics that I might post to go with it later. Also, the formatting is wonky... I tried to fix it.

---

The hiss is low and guttural; it is a warning, Chrys knows. He stops and stares up the path, scanning the trees ahead of them.

“It’s probably just an animal,” Bryn grunts behind him. “Or something.”

“It might be the ‘or something,’” Chrys replies, motioning for Bryn to stay still.

“You don’t think it’s a dragon, do you,” Bryn asks.

“If it is, it’s only a small one,” Chrys reassures his hunting companion. “It’s probably just a fox or coyote, but best to let it move on to be safe. We’ve already got enough meat anyway, and foxes tend to be thinner during winter.”

“If you’re sure,” Bryn mutters.

A few hundred yards down the path, something moves out into the open. It is not a fox, but it is not a dragon, either. It is a braksi, a large female with arching horns. Bryn reaches for his bow, but Chrys puts up his hand to stop him. The sound of their movements spook the braksi, however, and she runs off.

“Why did you stop me,” Bryn demands. “We could have sold the extra meat for some coin.”

“She was pregnant. If we bring in all the braksi, there wouldn’t be enough for the next generation to eat.” Chrys starts back down the path, but he turns back when Bryn does not immediately follow. “Coming, Bryn?”

“Yeah,” Bryn sighs, finally following Chrys. “Never thought of it like that. You think of the little things, Chrys.”

“One of us has to,” Chrys teases.

“Now that’s low,” Bryn snorts. “Even for you.”

The two laugh easily, teasing back and forth as they step out of the forest into the village of Telvinne. It is a small village, bordered on three sides by the thick forest the hunters made their living from; Telvinne is the last town on the way to the Scarast Mountain Range, with a butcher, a blacksmith, an herbalist, and the houses of the laborers in the area. With eight farms, a well, and nearby Lake Tel, for which the village was named, Telvinne is the home of hardworking folk, and traders came through twice a year for the villagers to get anything they could not make themselves, and so the villagers could sell any home-made goods.

Chrys and Bryn are two of nine hunters in the village; of the nearly seventy residents of Telvinne, thirty-seven are farmers, and the village’s main exports are their crops. The farmers will tell you the fertility of the soil is due to the nearby mountains, long believed by the people in Telvinne and the surrounding towns and cities to be the home of nature spirits, while the other hunters often swear it is the droppings of the large diversity of animals from the surrounding forest. Chrys thinks it may be a bit of both.

Chrys and Bryn make their way up the slope toward the main group of buildings along the main road into and out of Telvinne, waving to the farmers and the children as they passed.

“Here, I’ll take the meat to the butcher. Your wife probably has dinner going.” Bryn is married to a beautiful farmer named Ralla, who had given him a pair of twin sons a few years back. Bryn loves them dearly, and misses them on the long days spent tracking and hunting in the woods.

Bryn passes the bag with their catches and sighs. “Chrys, when you get a chance, settle down and marry a nice girl,” Bryn tells him. “Having dinner ready when you get home is a wonderful thing.”

Chrys gives Bryn a tight smile. “Sure, Bryn,” he placates, shooing the older man off. Chrys knows Bryn means well, but Chrys does not plan on settling down and getting married. Chrys has more important things to worry about.

“Ah, Chrys!” Marc greets everyone by name, and Chrys is no exception when he enters the butcher-shop.

“Hey, Marc,” Chrys replies. Chrys respects Marc with his kinder nature. Marc has bright hair and brighter eyes, and a gentle strength that can wield the knives that split bones for the man’s living. One of Marc’s sons is carefully taking stock of the meat behind the counter.

“Bryn and I just got back from a hunting trip,” Chrys tells the butcher. “Think you can do your thing?”

Marc laughs easily. “Sure thing, Chrys. See any dragons?”

“Nah,” Chrys answers as he passes the catch over. “I wish. I love dragon-watching.”

Marc smiles while he takes stock of the handful of small game, the pair of braksis, and a large buck. “Only you would want to actually see a dragon, Chrys. You’re crazy.”

“Crazy? Or interesting?” Chrys spins around, motioning out the window in the direction of the closest city, Nycelia, on the Southern Plains. “If I become a dragon expert, everyone in the city will want to get to know me!”

Marc rolls his eyes, but he knows from experience not to try to discourage the younger man. Chrys whirls back to Marc with a bright, excited smile. “I’ll be able to get into the royal court even, maybe!”

“Alright, Chrys,” Marc tells him. “Listen, it’ll take me two days to get all this cut up and figure on a proper price for you two. Come back then.”

Chrys nods. “See you then.”

The sun is beginning to set as Chrys leaves the butcher and starts for home. Chrys had built a small house for himself a bit out of the village, set back into the edge of the forest surrounding Telvinne, just south of Lake Tel.

The walls are covered in sketches of dragons, flora and fauna local to the region, and of villagers from Telvinne and the surrounding area. Unfinished sketches cover the small table in the main room, and Chrys is quick to close the door and avoid the breeze blowing the loose papers around.

Curled up on the table in the kitchen is a large cat that yawns in way of greeting. Chrys sighs. “I know it’s late, Bigelow. Marc and I got to talking. I caught a buck,” he tells the cat as he collects the loose sketches and stirs a pot of stew he had set to cook before he had left that morning with Bryn. “We can eat for a while off this catch, from the looks of it.”

Bigelow yawns again and sets his head on his paws. Chrys ladles some of the stew into a wooden bowl. “Catch any mice today?” Of course, Bigelow does not answer, but Chrys carries on talking as he sets his place at the table. “I didn’t see any dragons this time, not even a little one, but that’s not surprising. They don’t come this far north in the colder months, usually. Maybe when it gets warmer.”

Bigelow gets up and pads over to the door. Chrys frowns as the cat nudges it open and pads out into the deepening twilight.

“Eat it before you come inside,” Chrys calls after him. It would not be the first time Chrys woke up to an unexpected gift from Bigelow. Anything from mice and voles to rabbits and hares and even a young braksi, once; nothing is safe from Bigelow. Even bears and wolves stay out of the feline’s way.

Chrys grabs a hunk of bread he had made a few days ago and dips it into his stew, but Chrys jumps when he hears a loud yowl from outside. Chrys glances up toward the still open door, stew-soaked bread halfway to his lips. He sighs and pops the bread into his mouth and chews quickly. “What, Bigs, is there dew on the grass,” he teases as he walks outside. What he sees makes him freeze.

Bigelow is laying a few feet away from the door, on his back, staring unseeing at the night sky, completely still except for his shallow breathing. Chrys’s stomach somehow both drops and lurches up into his throat at the same time. Chrys slams the door behind him and scrambles over to his cat. Bigelow does not acknowledge the young man as Chrys leans over him, carefully stroking the cat’s cheek as if expecting the cat to sit back up. “Bigs,” Chrys asks quietly. “Bigs?”

Chrys bolts for Telvinne, his beloved pet cradled in his arms. “Hang on, hang on,” he gasps to the cat. “Stay with me, Bigs!” Bigelow makes a strange, breathy noise, but otherwise does not respond.

Telvinne is slumbering, but Chrys knows that the herbalist does not sleep until far later into the night. He goes straight for the her shop and home. “Elvira,” he calls desperately, shouldering open the door. “Elvira, theres something wrong with Bigelow!”

“Set him on the table,” the herbalist, Elvira orders, calm but authoritative, striding through the door to a back room. Chrys hurries to comply, laying Bigelow onto the exam table Elvira kept carefully clean.

She takes one look at the stricken feline and sighs. “I can save him, but I recognize the signs. Wake the rest of the village, everyone is to get to the bunker. This is the work of a cockatrice. Best to wait for it to leave the area.” Chrys nods and reaches for Bigelow, but Elvira shakes her head. “I will bring him after he’s healed. Go.”

Chrys shoots one more look at his cat before doing as he is told. Chrys trusts Elvira, he knows how capable she is. Elvira could set a broken bone, dose an ill sheep, stitch up a farming accident. But Bigelow has been a companion to Chrys for several years now, and the feline’s sudden attack has shaken Chrys.

Chrys leaves Elvira’s and decides to start with the houses that are closest to his; the cockatrice had passed his place first, after all, and Chrys worries that if it does come into the village, it will be from that direction. If a cockatrice does get into the village, it would be a catastrophe waiting to happen, especially with the children in Telvinne not knowing to steer clear.

Bryn’s house is the first he goes to. “Bryn! Bryn, please, wake up,” Chrys cries, banging on the door desperately.

Bryn’s hair is tousled when he answers, eyes weary from sleep. “Chrys? What’s wrong, what time--”

“A cockatrice attacked Bigelow in front of my house. Elvira wants everyone in the bunker, now.”

Bryn leans back inside, shouting to wake his family. “I’ll get Ralla and the boys off and I’ll help wake everyone,” Bryn tells Chrys, before darting back inside to help his wife and sons. Chrys turns and darts across the dirt road to the farmer, Dale’s, home. Dale is still young, like Chrys, and he doesn’t have a wife or children either and is quick to offer to help wake the rest of the village as well.

Between the three of them, Bryn, Chrys, and Dale are able to rouse everyone and send them for the bunker in a short time. When the three men arrive at the bunker themselves, helping Marc and his wife, the blacksmith Mira, herd their five children through the dark streets, Elvira is waiting. She waves them all in and shuts the door, and then turns her brown eyes to Chrys.

She quietly greets him, and carefully passes a bundle to him. Bigelow is sleeping peacefully, but he lazily opens an eye to glance up at Chrys, before he begins purring softly as he drifts to sleep in his owners arms.

“He will be a bit out of sorts for a few days. Best to keep an eye on him until he returns to normal,” the herbalist instructs. “Now, let us retreat deeper in. It is late, but we are all safe thanks to the fact the beast ran into Bigelow first; I am sure the others are grateful, and they are glad that he is alright.”

Chrys has never been inside the bunker, has never really needed to. Telvinne has it’s very own, as most of the villages, towns, and cities in the country of Belaro; they were built during the great dragon wars a few hundred years ago, and they are kept in good repair thanks to the crown. These days, they are mostly used for storage. Telvinne’s bunker is dug into a large hill opposite Chrys’s home, lined with stones to keep the walls from falling in and with a handful of large beams scattered through the single room to hold up the ceiling.

Chrys does not like it at all. The walls feel too close, the ceiling too low, despite it being large enough inside the bunker to hold several of the houses of Telvinne inside comfortably. Chrys settles down in a quiet, out of the way spot by the door to wait while his skin feels like it is crawling off, and Bigelow’s quiet purring seems to be the only thing that can calm the young hunter. It takes three days of sending out a small party a few times a day for Elvira to be satisfied that the cockatrice did not stay in the area, and during those days Chrys sleeps little.

The day after the cockatrice-induced seclusion ends, it snows in Telvinne; for the first time in nearly half a century, Telvinne is covered in several inches of thick flakes. By the end of the day, those several inches have grown to a foot, and the next morning sees Chrys struggling to get his front door open. Bigelow seems content to wait out the snow, but Chrys had some salted stew-meat and the money from the hunting catch to retrieve from Marc at the butcher shop.

Halfway to town, Chrys runs into Dale. The farmer has tripped or slipped on the way to check the farm he works, and he is stuck so deep in the snow he is barely visible. Dale had moved to Telvinne from further south by Nycelia, and likely had never experienced snow like this before.

“Need any help, Dale,” Chrys asks as he approaches. It takes Dale a moment of squirming to get his head totally above the snow, and when he does, he has to squint against the sun.

“Ah, no, Chrys, I’m fine,” Dale says, teeth chattering slightly. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and huffs.

“So, what are you doing, then?” Chrys wades a little closer. The snow is up to his waist already, and though it has slowed down, the snow is still falling. Chrys usually lets Dale do things himself and Dale usually does not ask for help, but in this snow that mentality could be dangerous.

“I--” Dale starts to say, and sneezes. The two stare at each other for a moment in surprised silence before Dale sighs. “I’m stuck.”

“Do you want me to get you out?” Chrys leans closer to Dale to brush snow off his head.

“Yes, please,” the farmer replies, rather meekly.

Chrys rolls his eyes. “It’s okay to ask for help, Dale,” he tells the farmer gently as he begins digging. “We only have each other out here.”

Dale smiles. "I know," he tells Chrys. "I know. I just--" he sighs again, heavy with thought. "I'm not used to having anyone to ask for help. I lost my parents to a bear when I was still pretty young, so I’m used to just doing everything myself."

Chrys glances up at Dale and gasps. "Dale, woah, I'm so sorry."

Dale sniffs. "'S alright. It was a long time ago, I don’t really remember it all that much."

Chrys helps Dale up and helps him dust off. "It's still pretty horrible. I can't imagine what that must have been like for you." When Dale just shrugs again, Chrys sighs. "Hey, listen, Dale. My house is kinda snowed in right now, but if you're out late in the fields, you're welcome to crash at my place. It's closer to your farm than the village is."

Dale chuckles. "Yeah, thanks, Chrys. And, ah, if you need a place to crash not buried in snow..."

Chrys laughs. "Thanks Dale. I might just take you up on that. Spirits know Bigelow hates the snow, poor boy won't leave the house."

Dale joins his laughter, the sadness from a moment ago forgotten, even if only temporarily.

"I mean, aren't you worried about the dragons, too," Dale asks.

"Nah, they don't bother me," Chrys tells him, waving as if to brush the concern away. "C'mon, if you walk me back to my place, I have something I wanna show you."

The two talk while Chrys retrieves his meats, and they help each other trudge back through the snow. Chrys glances at Dale once before he pushes the door to his home open.

Dale's mouth falls open. He steps into the house, slowly spinning to take in all the pictures. "Did you draw all these," he wonders. "They're amazing!"

"Thank you," Chrys laughs, blushing slightly.

"Where did you see these dragons," Dale continues, motioning to some of the sketches. "Were they in a book?"

"No, these are dragons I've seen while hunting. Or they've strolled across my yard. This one--" Chrys reaches up to a cluster of sketches of the same dragon, a large male with curling horns and dark scales. His wings have some minor tears along the edges, and he's covered in scars; there is a determined gleam in his eyes in all the sketches Chrys has of him. "I call him Big Boy," Chrys explains. "He's the most territorial in the area. I think he's the one in charge around here. He's the first dragon in during the warm months and the last one out when it gets colder. I saw him quite a lot while I was building my home. Nothing happens in the area without Big Boy knowing about it."

"Really?" Dale cocks an eyebrow. " Does he know about me?"

"Probably," Chrys tells him, shrugging. "He may have never seen you," he reassures when Dale looks mildly alarmed, "but he knows everyone in the area by scent."

"Wow. And he just wanders through your yard every now and again?"

Chrys nods and motions to another cluster of sketches. These feature a female, one with a blind eye and a missing claw on one of her front feet. There are less sketches overall than of Big Boy, but they are more detailed. "This is Skye. She's a bit more shy, but she sits for hours once she is comfortable. She's Big Boy's mate. Whatever she's doing, she's doing it right. Most males mate with a different female each year, but Big Boy keeps going back to her."

"Who's that," Dale asks, pointing up at another sketch. It's a jet black male, with no scars or injuries. The sketch looks hurried, and the dragon it features appears to be asleep. That sketch is the only one of this particular dragon.

"That's Shadow," Chrys says, fondness in his voice. "He's my favorite. Never sits still, but he's a gentle soul. Bigelow's gone hunting with him a few times. He's a little smaller, or maybe he's just young. He checks in with me every year when the dragons come back north for the spring and go south for the winter."

Dale glances up at Chrys. He has a gleam in his eyes; Dale can see that this is not mere curiosity, like most of the villagers assume -- Chrys is obsessed, he's living and breathing and dreaming dragons.

"Crazy idea," Dale says. Chrys turns his gaze back to the farmer with a teasing smirk.

"Crazy," he asks, "or interesting?"

Dale snorts, and then reaches up to motion to all the sketches. "Could I bring my uncle down here sometime? He lives in Nycelia, and he's an old drinking buddy of Nycelia's current dragon expert, Tern--"

"Yes," Chrys interrupts. "Of course." He scoops Dale into a tight hug, a light, airy giggle tumbling off his lips. "Thank you, Dale," Chrys says as he lets the farmer go. "None of the others have ever taken my dreams seriously."

Dale flushes at the honesty in Chrys's voice. "Just don't forget to come home every now and again, yeah?"

Chrys nudges him gently. "Hey, why don't you come along, Dale? It's bound to be an adventure, and I could use an extra set of hands -- wherever it is that studying dragons will take me."

Dale looks around the sketches, at Chrys's excited grin, and he feels himself grinning back.

"You have to show me me all the local dragons, first," he says.

"As soon as it warms up," Chrys promises.

"Then I'm glad to be on board," Dale agrees, shaking Chrys's hand. "Now, come on. I'll help you move Bigelow up to my house. Besides, it's weird that there's more snow here than up in the village."

"There is a slight slope," Chrys chuckles, turning to grab a blanket. "When the snow gets too heavy, it pushes everything down towards me."

“I’m never gonna get you northerners,” Dale sighs.

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