#I've drawn more over the past month than I have over the last year. Probably. Lol

[shima-draws]

I haven't watched more than like, 8 episodes of once piece, but i just want to say that i'm loving your live(?) blogging of the episodes as you go. especially all the sanji x luffy, it's all very cute in general but also how excited you get about it is fantastic.

that's all! i just love seeing people passionately enjoy things.

AAGFGHGHF THANK YOU OMG........I feel like I've been REALLY annoying talking about Sanlu nonstop but I'm glad at least somebody is enjoying it lmao. But if there's one place where I SHOULD have no filter and feel free to talk about my ships constantly, it should be my own blog right. LOL

Essentially,

[dailycass-cain]

After much hype, a new volume of Birds of Prey was released this past week. Was it worth the hype? How was the Cass content in it?

Well, time to air my thoughts on Birds of Prey #1.

The first thing that kind of astonished me is the AMOUNT of Cass we got in this issue. Literally, I think writer Kelly Thompson just establishes WHO the keys are for this comic.

It's Dinah and Cass.

Like a part of me thought we'd get a little bone with Cass that sets her up, and she'd disappear amongst the other members. Nope. She gets as much fleshed out in this story as Dinah.

That has me curious given the setup alone of Dinah getting this team together to save Sin (yaaaaah. FINALLY!).

There's A LOT of potential here. A part of me still muses if this will get acknowledged from the ye old Black Canary mini which pulled Sin away from Dinah.

It isn't lost to me at all that throughout this issue Thompson littered a CORNUCOPIA of homages to past Cass stories (and probably other stories too just that I'm not Daily Zealot 😋).

Take for example the aftermath of Cass's introduction in the issue. Besides the sequence being STUNNINGLY drawn and colored by Leonardo Romero and Jordie Bellaire. There's this nugget.

So the very League who broke Dinah/Sin are what paired her with Cass. But that's not the ONLY poetry Thompson delivers in this comic when pertaining to Cass.

There are OTHER callbacks.

Namely, the reason why Cass instantly agrees is "sisterhood" I know someone on Tumblr brought up Cass knowing its importance due to Sandra/Carolyn but I see it as more of a DIFFERENT reason. Something that sadly just ended.

*cough* Batgirls should be still going. Give me three comics of Cass a month dagnabit. *cough*

There are two others but I'll get to that soon. Can I just gawk at this page more?

Again, there are nice parallels here with the Brightest Day BoP volume. Dinah assessing someone just that this time IT IS CASS. No hoopla or things to deny certain other writers from doing this.

We actually have Cass officially on the BoP team in the main DCU.

It's just that this intro means a lot. The moment I got to this page I had the dumbest goofiest grin on my face. Not instant tears (those did occur this issue) like certain other comics of Cass I've read. Just, "Oh yeah this writer gets the character."

Like it was whiplash reading this issue after a certain OTHER comic this week. Like, this issue just feels like a nice pace just going from one scene to the other.

It just flowed so perfectly from one to the other establishing the other members as Dinah and Cass (or all four ladies) recruited them.

This leads me to what DID get me emotional about this issue: Cass meeting Barda.

Like so many years I wanted this. So many times neither character was synched with the other to do it (death and limbo sadly).

This leads me to what DID get me emotional about this issue: Cass meeting Big Barda.

Like so many years I wanted this. So many times neither character was synched with the other to do it (death and limbo sadly). But it FINALLY happened.

And… I'm tearing up looking over the pages plus my mind is on it. 😅

Wrassin frassin….

Like Thompson delivered in spades with Cass/Barda. This is everything I'd imagined and then some.

So with all that out of the way of me gawing at this all. What you really want from me. My thoughts on a certain Cass vs. Harley Quinn.

The truth if you haven't been following me the last few days is.. I didn't mind it. There is a precedent of Cass having trouble with folks like Joker (though he was the easiest to tell in the end), Mad Dog, Mr. Fun, and Harley.

Just that you think I didn't notice what you did Thompson but I caught the homage. Harley and Cass plunge off a building (yes that is Harley not Babs).

Besides the homage and precedent I know many are overlooking how this is all told from Cass's perspective and nothing she does in this tale showcases WHY Harley should be part of this team, other than Cass saying so.

Cass is an unreliable narrator due to well her disorder and can't describe the best words to what happened. Stephanie Brown, she is not at detailing everything PERFECTLY.

I just view it like a Pink Panther film. Cass is the straight man, and Harley was "Clouseauing" her way throughout the scene.

But I digress, if anything the scene made me wonder, "HOW THE HELL DID HARLEY LEARN A LEOPARD PUNCH?!" Only a handful of fighters know that.

HOW THE HECK DID HARLEY KNOW?!

Did the fight make Harley look good? Not really to me. It's Cass's PoV that did it and it didn't convince Dinah, Barda, and Zealot. Just the insistence that Harley is the wild card edge they need (which cues the obligatory reason for Harley being on this team and nothing more).

Still, that particular moment didn't ruin my fun (unlike a prior comic tried to achieve). Birds of Prey #1 was everything I wanted and then some. It made me smile and it made me tear up. It gave me that good Cass content. 😁😁😁

Like I'm pumped for the next issue. Because again, it's giving me something that has always left me lackluster prior. Cass vs. Amazons? More Cass/Dinah? More Cass/Barda? Why is the mysterious person not wanting Babs on this?

Okay. You got me comic.

I really REALLY loved this comic. Like, I never thought in my years as a Cass fan we'd be getting so much content like this. Like, after the heartbreaking loss of Batgirls (and Spirit World being a mini aka I DON'T WANT IT TO END), this series was the pickup I needed.

So to all the creatives involved in this comic. 🙏🙏🙏🙏

[endwersed]

WIP Whenever

Tagged by the amazing @dear-massacre 💖

I've been drifting between two WIPs over the last month or so, but for the past week I've been heavily drawn into my college baseball au - where Theo is Derek's new teammate and Stiles is Theo's long-term boyfriend.

So - here's a bit of that! It's called striking out and will (hopefully) be posted to AO3 early in the new year.

-

“So," Derek says. "You and Theo. You’ve been together a – while, then?”

“Since sophomore year of high school,” Stiles replies, before snorting an inelegant laugh. “Was a pretty big shock even to me when I found myself actually saying yes to him asking me out.”

Derek’s eyebrows draw together. “What do you mean by that?”

“I just mean, I don’t know.” Stiles cuts off, mouth twisting around the words Derek can almost see whirring behind his forehead. The cluster of dorm buildings encroach into their line of sight. “I didn’t exactly… like him, in middle school. Or elementary school. Or kindergarten, for that matter.”

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Why didn’t you like him?”

Stiles pauses, biting at his lip. There are goosebumps raised on the exposed part of his forearms, right around the jutting bone of his wrists, and he crosses his arms back over his chest again as a shiver wracks through his body. Derek lets himself list closer as they walk, just an inch, just in the hope that maybe he can impart even a little of his body heat, even if they’re still not quite touching.

“He was,” Stiles starts, trailing off like he’s looking for the right words, “not the… nicest guy, before high school.”

Derek takes that in for a second, narrowing his eyes and tipping his head sideways.

“Meaning – he was a bully,” he parses.

“Bully is a strong word,” Stiles defends instantly, and it sounds more than a little well-practiced. “He was a kid and kinda a jerk. I mean – who wasn’t a little asshole when they were twelve? He grew out of it by high school, is what matters.”

Derek bites back the huff of disbelieving laughter that wants to rip from his chest. He’s not sure it can be said that Theo has grown out of being a jerk now, by college, let alone high school. He won’t say this, though. Something tells him the guy’s devoted and adoring boyfriend probably won’t take it all that well.

“What did he do to win you over?” Derek presses. “Grand gesture at the big football game?”

“He stopped shoving me into lockers for a year and asked me out for curly fries.” Stiles shrugs a casual shoulder at the distressed look Derek shoots him. “I really like curly fries.”

“Right,” Derek says slowly. “I’m – starting to think bully might have been the right word, actually.”

Stiles rolls his eyes as he whirls to a stop in front of the door to a tall, grey building. They must have reached his dorm, Derek quickly guesses.

“It’s not as after school special as it sounds,” Stiles assures him. “I was a huge nerd. A lot of the sports guys liked shoving me in lockers in middle school. He’s just the only one that got the hots for me once I started to grow my hair out.”

“Very romantic,” Derek says drily. “I’m sure Hallmark will be asking for the rights in no time.”

[lapeaudelamemoire]

Slept poorly and didn't get much done today. That's fine, it's been a big week, and I deserve a break for finishing up my last week on placement while writing up these assignments, and the stress of having to deal with obtaining medical documentation.

Been dreaming of work even in my sleep for much of the last week and before that. I've spent the entire last week if not the last two or more pretty much staring at my screen all day, all week, now that all documents are digital. My eyes have deteriorated since last year writing my thesis and all of this continuation. It worries and bothers me, but I don't know that there's much I can do about how our lives and work all seem digital these days, in many fields; and even for leisure.

At least I won't have to be at work on placement any more come Monday and Tuesday.

(If I haven't been replying or interacting much, I'm sorry, this is why - I can barely take my eyes off work, I'm snowed under.)

-

Since deleting Instagram I've bought even less. I don't even really buy myself 'rewards' any more for doing work or finishing things; which is not to say that I withhold them from myself, but rather that I don't really feel as compelled to any more. It would be a nice treat, but it's not something I need, and I don't have to bribe myself the same way any more.

I scroll past lingerie posts by a brand that used to be my favourite. And there are things that I want that I would still like to buy, and might perhaps regret if I missed out on, but I don't feel like it would be So Terrible if I did; and have made my peace with potentially not having and 'missing out on', that being the case. I've noticed that I buy things because I want them, and would like to have them, but I rarely wear or use them. Parcels stack in my living room, unopened for months, even over a year. There is actually really quite little that I genuinely need or want. I can like something and not own it, or possess it. I think that's something good to learn, and one we don't learn enough or much of; but I think the world or things would be better if we did. I would like to travel still, too, but even that has lessened somewhat in drive.

I have my partner and really, the days are happy as they are. It sounds cheesy but when we're together, looking at him and being with each other is enough to give me smiles for days.

Lately, though, I've noticed myself buying some little things that I previously never bought, like stickers, or key chains. And I've actually used the keychain, but with the stickers, just having them and looking at them all still in the sheet makes me happy. Growing up and shedding the notion of trying to look cool and not personalising your things is great. I have never been more openly me.

But I think actually that all of this is also because of him; taught to me unwittingly by him. Maybe I would have gotten here by myself too, by now even, or eventually, I don't know. But being with him - I've changed. Of course, of course, being with different people changes you. But still -

I love being with my husband. Unpretentious as he is, caring as he is. With others there is always bothering about how we look - and he does like to be told he looks good, of course - but everything is so simple, so distilled. We are as we are. Unpolished as we are. We eat. Wake up together. Go to sleep together. Spend our days in each other's orbit. Maybe this is the definition of [一起/一块儿] 过日子. Nothing extraneous, nothing added or dressed up, no airs. I remember early on one day, this turn in myself I noticed brought on by being in his presence, a sense of community as something surrounding him and committed to in his actions. That was the first time I really felt community as something real as a context you lived in, and not just some abstract concept or nebulous notion of a large circle drawn around an area, bigger than just your immediate links to friends or family.

With someone else, I'd probably still be the same person I was, buying up lingerie and wanting to stay in fancy hotels and dressing up in finery. But I like who being with him has changed me into.

I want for so little now. We laugh plenty in each other's company. I am so aware, every day, how much this life with time spent together sharing our lives is a treasure.

[freyjuseggr]

Hey, there. I've been following your content on and off for a while now (I don't remember how long to be honest) and I have a question if it's okay to ask. If not and it's too personal, I understand.

I don't remember if you ever went into this fully or not (or if it's too personal or complicated). But I was wondering about what lead you to becoming interesting in exploring or researching Judaism. I mostly remember you from the pagan side of the general Tumblr community and I think you probably follow my side blog (which is mostly inactive now).

I suppose the topic at large has been on my mind a lot more lately, probably due in part to friendly religious discussions that occasionally happen on a server I'm in and how one of our top contributors is super laidback about answering questions we had (mostly about Judaism and Christianity) and helped one of our mutuals out with obtaining resources and acted as a study mentor when she was thinking about converting. I also remember recently seeing a Reddit thread where someone who, I think was a Norse pagan, felt drawn to Judaism and wasn't sure how to reconcile both practices. But since I can't find the thread anymore, I wonder if I dreamt it or it's just projecting on my end.

I guess I also ask because when I hear about those who were in the conversion process, I mostly hear from those who were from another monotheistic faith or of an atheist, pantheist or deist background. I rarely have heard perspectives from those who were of a polytheistic one. I'm not sure if you're still in that sort of place or not, or if I'm just being too nosy now.

But hearing your process with where you are or how you got here would be interesting. Thanks you so much.

Full disclaimer before I start, I am no longer in a position where pursuing conversion is possible. So while I had been in the process of doing so, I am no longer able to be in contact with a local rabbi in order to convert to Judaism.

But to answer the question, I have really always respected the Jewish approach to, well, everything, but theology in particular. Obviously that alone is not the reason I was trying to convert, but it has always been on my radar of "that's a really compelling way to think about the world."

In terms of coming from a polytheist background, I had been very involved in heathen revival and reconstruction, for a lot longer even than I had been talking about it on tumblr. And it really does in a lot of ways still influence the ways I think about religion (constant study and openness to new research and ideas), even though it is no longer the framework in which I ask and attempt to answer questions about the world, and the divine. Which that last part about framework is more or less how I've come to view religion (as opposed to spirituality) over the last few years.

That said, Judaism was, and still is, a very compelling framework within which to ask questions. I didn't realize it until I started reading up on it more, mostly out of curiousity, but also out of a desire to find a monotheistic framework for religion. I believe I've written some about my journey from polytheism to (a pluriform) monotheism in the past, but if you have difficulty finding it on here, feel free to ask.

I didn't really become sold on Judaism until attending an intro class in the city I had been living in, and if anyone has an interest in Judaism, even aside from converting, I cannot recommend one of those classes enough. It really solidified in my head what Judaism is and how it operates, especially beyond just the theology (which is important because for a long time the theology was my only interest).

After several months of that class and several more of talking to a rabbi, I was completely on board with conversion, but my circumstances have changed such that conversion is no longer viable. As some of you may already know, as I believe I've discussed it in some discord servers, I have been thinking about returning to Catholicism, which is the religion in which I was raised. This is a very new development and I've not yet figured out if its the right move, as I have some quite important theological differences with the Catholic church. But I do share many of the values they have with regard to their social teachings. Their way of doing is much more similar to what I want to do than their way of believing. I've always been more of an orthopraxic kinda guy.

If you have any more questions about any of this, feel free to reach out. It's interesting to discuss this and explain it, because I haven't needed to in a while. So thank you.

(also, I dont believe that reddit thread was mine, so that is very interesting!)

[nialltlynch]

kk 2022 reading roundup

total books read this year: 41!! (which is a lot. to me)

my goal, as it has been the past couple years, is at least two books per month. and. dear reader, in the interest of being truthful and fair, I did not meet my goal. july wasnt a great month for both for interpersonal reasons and also because I was coming down the high of having read the gideon the ninth and harrow the ninth. so like. everything kinda tasted like dirt yknow what I mean? I read ZERO books that month. other than that, I did read a bit more than I did last year so it's a win all around

overall I do feel like this was a bit weaker. the majority of the books were fine. interesting enough to finish but not really memorable once closed. not as many of them hit quite very hard BUT the ones that did were INSANEEEEEEEE which! fine! okay! not all books are going to be mind blowers but I think it made reading this year feel a little bit more like a slog than previous. blah. you win some you lose some.

that being said, im only counting books that ive finished but I did start far more books that I ended up not finishing. I mayyyyy come back to some because I might not have been in the right place but idk. im still a very picky reader I think.

random observations:

i overwhelmingly read women writers. this is not by design. kinda neat i guess

i purposely try to read a variety of authors instead of delving into one author's bibliography (except shirley jackson, who has my heart). maybe next year I'll try to read more deeply into author's I enjoy??? we shall see

im surprised that apparently my top genre for the year is horror? i think the bulk of that is because shirley jackson is labeled horror which i suppose i have to agree with though i never considered myself a horror enjoyer. I think id like to delve more into the genre next year but ummmm im squeamish and I get scared and start shaking all over very easy ((:

i should read longer books. ill admit seeing an ebook with 300+ pages and preemptively mentally checking out....... this habit will probably follow me into the new year unfortunately )):

anyway. here are my rambling nothing thoughts on my top 10 reads this year!

top 10:

Harrow the Ninth - Tamsyn Muir | easily one of the most succulent, juicy, mind searingly delicious things I've consumed in..... I don't even know how long. possibly ever. all my thoughts can be summed up as: ooga booga

Hangsaman - Shirley Jackson | ive read a lot of shirley jackson this year and I think ive read all her novels excepts one (the road through the wall). anyway. this fucking book. no one understands the tragedy of being a young woman quite like shirley jackson.

Our Wives Under the Sea - Julia Armfield | this is one of those rare books where a confluence of things I love all come together AND it actually works out. just off the top of my head this book has (and executes WELL): floaty yet vivid prose. sea monsters. a healthy fear of the ocean. lesbians. mundane yet sublime body horror. unanswered mysteries. it's just!!! one of those things you hear about and you're like. there's no way this is actually that good right??? and true it has issues but I personally find the blemishes forgivable. I think my biggest problem is that it feels a bit drawn out but the vibes were so pitch perfect i can barely fault it for that. anyway. absolutely had a wonderful time reading this book. I went into it with relatively high expectations (especially for me) and left delighted and fed.

The Bird's Nest - Shirley Jackson | i went back and forth a lot about which jackson book was my favorite this year and it was really difficult because 1) they're all insanely good and exactly to my tastes and 2) this was the year i read the locked tomb so...... dsjkdsjkfd decisions man. ANYWAY the vibes in this book are off the charts

The Sundial - Shirley Jackson | ms jackson does it again!!! you would think that a book about a house that becomes a prison that symbolizes some form of control inhabited by a collection of delusional rich assholes would rank a lot higher since its so so so painfully quintessentially made for kk. it's also funny! I laughed out loud a few times and it was all in good fun. let me tell you. the only times I was laughing during her other books - say, idk, hill house - was at the absurdity of it all. the sundial was legitimately good fun.

Gideon the Ninth - Tamsyn Muir | DO NOT get it twisted. just because this is number 5 does NOT mean this book didnt make me absolutely insane feral. the difference between gtn and htn as far as my love is thin. razor silk spider web fucking thin. but theyre also completely different books so ughfdhfdjh okay. im not going to get into comparisons because who knows how we'll be at it. tamsyn muir is insane (affectionate with a twinge of awe.) i, a guy who sidestepped getting into A Certain Webcomic, have had a tab open for months now with fanfic for previously mentioned Webcomic (that i know next to nothing about) because im just so hungry for more tamsyn. gimme hands waaaarabslkdsb

Salt Slow - Julia Armfield | i read this before our wives under the sea and let me tell you... it set such high expectations. i obviously like her better when she's exploring subdued terror that slowly grows and grows and grows over time but she's very good at the fanciful and the deranged. she's contemplatively imaginative and the fact that she seems to also have a love for the ocean is just gravy for me. she wrote a fun little piece called the ocean is a lesbian. it was nice.

The Last House on Needless Street - Catriona Ward | this book is like one of those old timey anatomy diagrams to me in that i feel that really sums up the overall mood of the book AND also my feelings AND also conveniently describes how i read this book. this is an S-class concept with A-class writing which is delicious and delightful because it's both wonderful as a reader AND a writer. i was unnerved from the very first page and it was equally fun to luxuriate in that slow panic as a reader and to also unravel it through scrutiny as a writer. do you get what im trying to say? (i do feel presumptious referring to myself as a writer but this book really did make me remember why i love writing. so fuck it. I am a guy who writes aka writer)

Calling a Wolf a Wolf - Kaveh Akbar | im still very wet behind the ears insofar as my poetry knowledge goes and ill admit to not really. hmm. well, "getting it" sometimes. im learning! however. that being said. this collection. ooooof. i didn't feel like i had to stretch to grasp the concept. it ate my brain though thats for sure.

Devil House - John Darnielle | this book came to me at a very opportune time because I've been putting a lot of thought into the whole. true crime thing. still chewing tbh (got caught up in other stuff) but it definitely had a lasting effect

[arithecreatorsstuff]

Rabbit Bites Back

Triggers: life or death peril, blood, violence, sibling sarcasm

It was late Friday night, so late almost everybody with any sense would be asleep. Not me, nope... silly Rabbit let her reports pile up and is now playing catch up. I'm knee deep into yet another failed go at terminating 682 when it happens. Alarms, loud screams, flashing lights, crudely drawn vaguely naughty graffiti... yep. Chaos Insurgency Raid. They're late this month. I grab my weapons, and head out.

Normally, I'd just let the MTF guys deal with this, but... I must confess filling out endless reports made me want to be the cause of some for once. I hear the distinct sounds of a raiding party heading toward me from down the unending grey labyrinth, only for it to be cut off in horrific screaming and pleas for mercy. Maybe not that way... yet. Left it is.

I take off down the hall running, and see my first unwary target. The dumb bastard has his back to me, and is threatening 999. The poor goo boy is crying. I sneak up behind the bully and slap the back of his head. He turns around, only to be met by a blade to the throat. 999 squeaks in shock.

"Better go find a safe spot, Little Dude. These boys play too rough." Excited squeaks. "Six more ahead? Not good, but doable. Thanks. Now, go. You do not want to see this." I grab a gun from the dead goon, and press on.

Sure enough, a six pack of goon, trying to break open a door. I see the number, and... decide the occupant could use the company. After all, 682 is not Mister Popularity. The door opens, the goons go in, the door closes. I walk past, ready for almost anything. The last words I heard from the goons were pretty cliché for meeting the big undead scaly asshole.

"Oh, God... what is that thing?"

"Why won't it die? Why won't it die?"

The first real trouble I run into is an alert CI in the hallway 8 doors down. He opens fire, and I duck behind a wall. I shoot back, and know I hit my mark somewhere when i hear the scream.

"Demented little bitch! She shot me in the leg!" Another volley of gunfire. Another yell. "Fuck! I'm down. Proceed to target." Gunfire ceases, boots beat it down the hall. I chase. And run right into a dead end hall. But... not all hope is lost. No, I must have known where I'm going, as to my right, twenty meters ahead... is my new big brother's door. And... lucky me... plenty of cover to get there.

My luck ran out though, about the time I get there. There's a gun to my head, and the hand on it seems... twitchy. Time to take my lumps, fun's over.

"Stop, kid. I'm not saying it twice." I freeze, for a moment. "Open the door."

"That's... not an exit."

"Open it, or I shoot your pretty head off."

"For the record, I did warn you." I open the door, we step in. And... Big Brother is asleep. I can hear snoring from within his cube.

"He's... sleeping? We make enough noise to wake the dead, and 076-2 is still asleep?" Not for long. I take my chance like Big Brother taught me. I hit the idiot with a left hook, grab his gun, and get some distance between us. The CI rushes me, only for me to knock him on his ass with a headbutt. We fight for ten more minutes before anyone gains ground.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Shit. Big Brother is awake, and angry. The CI is stunned, just long enough for me to fling him face first into Abel's cube. A crunch, a groan, and he's out.

"The Chaos Insurgency decided to drop in. There's probably more wandering around here. Should probably put a stop to that, right?"

"I must agree, I do not care for these uninvited guests."

"Right. Grab your big sword then, we've got piles of bodies to create before we sleep."

We run into a group of ten trying to break into the Reality Warper Wing. Abel nods at me, I head right, he goes left. The whole fight took less than a minute.

"How many was that, Little Sister?"

"Five and five. But... counting the three I had to deal with earlier... I'm at 8."

"I've trained you less than a year, and you took out 8 of these fools?"

"Told you, I have a damn good teacher. We should see if there's more, give you a chance to catch up. Only fair, right?"

We check the rest of the hallway, a two person anomalous wrecking crew. There's a few stragglers, and Abel and I are soon even. We just get back to the main hall, and see a familiar and friendly to a degree face. It's Dr. Clef, shotgun in hand.

"Hey, uh... Rabbit? I know there's a raid going on, but what is 076-2 doing out?"

"Big Brother caught Little Sister dealing with a bully, and like a good brother, protected his Little Sister."

"Wait, what? Abel... Abel is your big brother?"

"We just dealt with the Chaos Insurgency, and that's the question you ask, Clef? Abel adopted me weeks ago."

"That's what I get for sleeping during staff meetings, I guess." Clef checks his cell phone. "That was the last of them. Back to your rooms, you two, or Uncle Alto will have to ground you."

Abel rolls his eyes. "Fine. But do not ever let me hear you say 'Uncle Alto' again."

"Agreed!"

[memohcomics]

DOMINION ANNOUNCEMENT!

When I started my socials for my WIP webcomic Dominion last year, my goal was to have the first three chapters ready for release by this time, and to formally launch the series before December.

Spoiler Alert: It's not ready yet.

REWRITES THY NAME IS MEMOH

After I ran the series preview in the Webtoon Call to Action Contest, I noticed I was getting a lot of notes where readers were confused, probably more so than starting in Chapter 3 warranted. After doing some soul searching, for the past two months I've revisited my script and made some major changes - streamlining, adding clarity, actually writing a detailed outline for the entire series to make sure all the story beats were hitting where they should. Darlings have been killed - whole chapters, rewritten.

Finally, I have emerged from the writing cocoon with a story that is (in my mind) far stronger. In the process though, I'm having to nerf 30 panels I had already drawn and colored because the whole start of the series has been revised/rewritten. RIP.

REVISITING FORMAT

I've also had time to think critically about the format for the series. Given that Webtoon is withdrawing support for Canvas creators, I was torn on if scroll format is still the only format I want to design for. After much deliberation, I've decided I will draw page format first, then retrofit each episode for scroll reading. This will save me time later should I choose to do print releases, and it makes me able to cross post the series to more sites.

TO LIGHT NOVEL OR NOT TO LIGHT NOVEL

Since I have the whole series spec'd out at this point, I am also deliberating on releasing a light novel version. The tentative plan for this would be to release a novelization of the first half of season one as the comic launches, release the second half novelization after the midseason finale, and so on. 

It would be behind a pay gate, but it would be a way for people to have a fast pass without sacrificing my health/sanity, while making sure they aren't so far ahead of the comic readers that the other followers get too many spoilers.

UPDATE SCHEDULE CONFIRMED

Since I have a full scope of the series now, I've also been able to decide on a schedule that I can keep up with (I do have to balance a full time job and have no assistants). 

Each chapter will be ~15 pages (~60 panels) and will be released monthly. For the series launch, I will release the first three chapters at once.

SO WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?

Now that rewrites are concluded, I'm now full steam ahead with getting pages produced. I will also be writing a draft of the light novel over the holidays and will have more clarity on if that project will proceed in the new year. I'm also trying to get my social media strategy lined up in advance, with the bulk of that work taking place over the holiday period.

Given that the first three chapters will take about 3 months on their own, (plus the extra set up chores), Dominion is likely looking at a April/May release. Which is fall in the southern hemisphere. So that counts as still making deadline, right? (< _<;)

In any case, I'll be posting some fan service Desmond on my Patreon to tide patrons over while I work diligently in the background. Patrons also get access to heaps of high res Dominion illustrations, so if you're keen on what you've seen so far go sign up!

[elwenyere]

For the Behind-the-Scenes fic asks…

On the Threshold (!!!!!!!!!! I love it so much!)

1, 7, 12, 24

Thank you!💜

Thank you so much for this ask, Elektra!!! I'm so happy you asked about On the Threshold: it's a huge treat to get to talk about this story, which has a really special place in my heart. <3<3<3 Questions are from this post.

How long did it take you to write this fic?

I have fics that flow out of me and fics that fight me, and this is one of the ones that fought me. I started writing it in late December and didn't finish it until late January (almost a month after the NYE holiday for which it was designed lolsob), partially because it grew to be much longer and more involved than I expected, and partially because it involved a new challenge for me: creating a compelling arc of slow-burn development - from first meeting to first kiss - over a period of several years.

7. What inspired the idea for the plot?

On the Threshold is unusual for me, in that the initial kernels of the plot came from personal experience. Indeed, I don't think I've drawn as much from my own life in any other fic I've written.

It was the holiday season, and I had been wanting to do something festive for Sambucky, so I started thinking about one particularly dramatic what-could-have-been moment from my past (see question 24 XD), and that spawned the idea of a 5+1 where Sam and Bucky keep almost getting together on NYE, but circumstances and misunderstandings always get in the way. The threads about grief and the way it changes you (which is another very autobiographical element in the story) ended up being woven into the fabric as I considered what some of those intervening events might be - especially for Sam.

12. Was there a scene you wished you could have included? Why didn't it fit in?

I had a lot of fun writing the disaster trio in the fic (Joaquín, Yelena, and Kate), and one of the things that frequently derailed me while I was drafting was that the three of them kept getting into extra shenanigans that were really delightful to me but that ultimately distracted from the central thrust of the story. During the scene at Clint's party in particular I probably wrote and deleted at least 1000 words of general silliness and tomfoolery.

24. Did you write every scene in order? What was the first scene you wrote, and what was the last?

For my sins, I never write in order, and this fic was no exception. The first scene that I wrote was one of the ones that came from personal experience, which is the scene at the airport, where Bucky checks his phone and realizes he missed meeting Sam outside his hotel room. From there, I worked backward, trying to figure out what kinds of earlier near misses would make that moment as dramatic as possible; and then I wrote my way toward the final get-together, which was the last scene I finished.

It makes me so unbelievably happy to know that the full story landed for you! <3<3<3

Thank you so much, Elektra!!! This meant a lot to me.

[thoughtsaladblog]

Foolish One...

It's one of those days when you kinda wonder about your life. I mean ok, in my case I wonder that quite often, but it's a little stronger today. The other day I took a trip down memory lane and much to my chagrin I realised I may have been a bit more fast and loose with my life than I'd realised- and let me tell you...It didn't feel good. Suddenly images of hellfire loomed in front of me. Despite my constant quips about dying at 35- I realise that that may not be to my benefit, given my promiscuity.

Honestly, when it comes to random moments of everyday life, I take pride in my openness and somewhat carefree approach when it comes to love and sex- God knows, it took some pretty brutal batterings and scars to get there. I dare not let a man break me like that ever again. And yet, I am human, and I crave love and an intimate connection.

In the last few days, I've been feeling all kinds of frisky- that time of the month of course- but simultaneously I've craved a partner with whom I could simply sit and talk, or just make-out. Yep- you read that right. Make-out. I may be associating teenagers too much, because I thought I was over this nonsense. But here we are...

Anyway, looking into my life I searched for someone I could have that with and could find no one. None of the guys I know could possibly provide the kind of connection I seek- they barely manage to give me what I'm expecting in terms of sex- if they manage to do so at all. Speaking of which, Numb3rs (yes, he resurfaced) and I hooked up last night. It was Meh. I mean, the man's got potential, but I feel like he was trying to do a lot at once and didn't quite pull through in anything because of it. But more importantly- talk about selfish in bed. Dude came, turned over, said he's recovering and dozed off. Le Fuq??! Ummm... still here bro.. this is a two way street. *insert exasperated eyeroll*

And of course what followed was his usual hit it and quit it- the guy woke up at 4.30 and booked a cab back home. He might as well start leaving some money on the bedside table at this rate. And of course, because my dumbass is always drawn to the toxic motherfuckers, I'm fighting back my compulsion to think about him or feel things for him. It's a tough battle- coz I'm attracted to the dude. Don't ask me why- there's no rational reason other than the fact that I'm a lunatic who is just attracted to smart people and the fucker is smart. Feeling about as ridiculous Deepika in "New Year's Eve" at this point. But yes, I need to stop thinking or expecting anything- for the sake of my mental health. Coz foolish one, he was never interested.

But moving on from that... at the expense of sounding repetitive- yes, I went through some of my past posts...I get it, I really need to get a life instead of playing the same old broken record. Buuuut to continue... I'm starting to feel shamed of my promiscuous life and frankly could do with a stable relationship- if those exist. And maybe at this point stop collecting more sins of adultery to an already mile-long list...

I mean it been 31 years... Frankly even I'm judging myself at this point for being unable to lock down some poor soul.

And on a completely different note- I probably ought to re-read the few sensible "enlightened" posts form this blog and get some focus to my life instead of meandering through it. Might lead to less whining- and less repetitive posts.

All in good time, my dear.

K byeeee.

[speenach]

A 30-year-old enby presents to her physician due to new onset dry skin, broken fingernails, and some weight gain. Past medical history is significant for asthma, atypical depression, and anxiety. She experienced her first seizure episode with some psychotic features 4 months ago, for which she received valium and supportive care. She was recently started on lamotrigine and has been taking prozac and wellbutrin for the past 4 years, with a step down from 300mg to 150mg for the latter, immediately following seizures. She takes clonazepam a few times a week and reports more fatigue than usual since decreasing her wellbutrin dose. At the time of her seizure episodes in May, CBC showed electrolyte abnormalities. Additional laboratory studies show:

May: TSH: 13.2 (nl 0.3-4.2) Free T4: 1.16 (nl 0.9-1.7)

September: TSH: 15.8 Free T4: 0.88 Free T3: 3.4 (nl 2-4.4) Anti-thyroid peroxidase: 550 (nl <34)

What is the most likely diagnosis?

A) schizoaffective disorder B) adjustment disorder C) hypothyroidism D) hyperthyroidism E) mood disorder with psychotic features F) sick thyroid syndrome

---

i definitely have hypothyroidism, and it's probably an autoimmune disease called hashimoto's, which is the most common form of hypothyroidism in the US (if i remember correctly)! caught it before my T4 went significantly lower, but i'm still feeling it. it's kind of validating.

i got my blood drawn yesterday after emailing my primary care doc and psychiatrist over the weekend, and lab results came in last night when ben and i had just started rewatching battlestar galactica. i'll go to school to pick up the thyroid replacement meds today or tomorrow.

---

this morning, i also found out that my firstborn cat baby, my son since the 8th grade, is being put down tomorrow. his name is marlowe. he lives in texas, although i took him to RI with me for my senior year in college, and he demands ice cubes in his water bowl. parents didn't let me take him to st. louis, and i haven't seen him since i went back to get my wisdom teeth removed in 2017. i've already missed him a lot over the years, and i know i'll always be connected to himb. i feel better after being around ben when i got the news, and talking to friends after. i'll get to facetime with marlowe tonight and hope he can get something out of the sound of my voice. bff stephanie is going to be there with me to see him. i hope he can meet sophie sometime.

---

also, we get the keys to our new apartment in FOUR DAYS. right now, i feel like taking stock and packing my first load of stuff to move over, probably lots of winter clothes. my roommate moved out yesterday, and i have a lot of empty space to use. dissertation stuff is going okay. i think i have room to take a deep breath.

[mysymmetry]

What an immense amount of changes, broad and deep. Memories of Montreal, particularly, are floating over my consciousness like they were yesterday. Like I am here on vacation for a few days, living in the apartment of a woman I don't know, but whose placement of objects is utterly known and familiar to my body. Like I could drive the Civic back to Montreal, to the next apartment I had after my small studio, and fit back into my city life.

I no longer have a city life.

I have this life.

I love it dearly - it so huge and filled with objects, and most things remain within my realm of understanding. I don't own anything worth more than $100,000 (haha, not even close), I do not have life insurance or policies covering large swathes of properties, investments, intangibles. Technically, my sofa does not even belong to me. When I leave here, it may go back to my mothers basement, where it will emanate my life and occasionally my mother will be drawn into the room where it sits, and approach it, though never sit on it, getting just close enough to enter its energetic field, and feel the raw, vibrating power of her daughters life, all of its highs and lows, the clothing I threw over the back of it, the men that have laid on top of me on top of it, the smears of chips and popcorn onto its cushions, the indentations from my butt and the left side of my forehead where I curl into it and nap. Every exhale it has absorbed.

I love it dearly, even though Paul is gone and it makes not a lick of sense. His murder has weighed heavy on me the past few days. Like all horrible things, every so often I wake up and let the shock of it wash over me again. "Paul Pender was murdered last night" "WHAT?" And then the supreme courts, and the fear rippling in that what if this person is so mad at us that he comes for us too? Where is the best place to relocate a deranged animal? Why do we fight to prove that guilty people are innocent? How can the truth be so dismissable? I lock my door now.

I like my hairstyle and how it looks when it's clean right now. That was different 2 months ago. I am not as thin as I was last summer, and returning to that thinness feels implausible with my current job. I used to be in constant physical motion, walking all day. Now my brain moves all day, trying to single-task while driving but the compulsion is to spin out. There will probably always be a part of me that idealizes thinness. I see it. I can love myself through it. I already do.

I don't have the desire to leave, start over, reimagine a whole new life. The idea of finding a new place to live and discovering all of its quirks and shortcomings and lack of outlets, uncleanable parts and noisiness feels like it would drain me of all presence and energy. I want to plant plants here and arrange a garden and have a few less things in the basement and maybe get bees. One more year of rootedness until my Saturn return is perfected and moves into shadow. These years have been fundamentally different. A new architecture and language around me will not solve what is within me. Only my gaze will. Only my presence will light it up.

Can you believe that all of this has happened? Paul and Zak and Bench and Labatt, hah!, I work for Labatt, and the Equinox and how I don't own any of the same clothing from first year university anymore, and I've forgotten parts of my life, while other moments, moments that seem perfectly inane, are burnt into my memory with precision and gravity. Here I am, writing. I have not written in so long because what is there to say? Paul was murdered.

[hobipaint]

Graffiti and Chalk- two

summary: You thought you knew him. You thought him gone. Kim Taehyung was part of you that you had carefully suppressed, keeping his memories to one box near the wall of your mind. That was your fault, though - empty walls demand for art. And who other than your own neighbourhood vandal?

↳ pairing: ex police student turned vandal! taehyung x officer! female reader

↳ genres: angst, fluff

↳ word count: 9.6K

↳ disclaimers: pg15!, vandalism, police officers, criminal past and heavy discussion of it, mentions of character deaths.

one | two

a/n: FINALLY AFTER A MONTH IT'S HERE! This took me really long to write but I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out : it's my longest work yet, and I feel like it would be among my best as well hehe. a massive thank you to @kookiestarlight because i swear i completed this in the first place because of tasha, @swcetnight who pointed out exactly where I need to elaborate stuff and places in which I was loosing parts of the plot because did I forget the whole storyline while writing this 🤡, @vaekth because this bby is absolutely amazing. she's supported me throughout the process of writing this, thank you so much!! thank you to @taecup-fics for beta reading this at the last minute and pointing out a bunch of grammatical errors because otherwise this would be a mess to read 😭 to everyone who has waited - I'm so sorry that it came this late, I suddenly had a bunch of exams that were announced and had to focus on those. Hopefully this lives up to your expectations!! Enjoy reading :)

Morning often dawns with a feeling of hope. With wistful sights of sunrise. Flowers open up to the golden haze that thaws the frost of the night. Birds roam the skies that had been but mysterious domains in the dark. People wake up with groans about the impending day, hopeful for it to end soon. You hoped for your mornings to always be similar to this- some constants were needed in places where you had cases as bewildering as missing pumpkin plushies piling up in your office. 

Your morning today, though, was much different. Much to your annoyance. 

You held the coffee you had brewed for yourself - another espresso, the universe knows you needed it - and handed one to Taehyung just as the cuckoo perching on the clock shrilly announced that it was eight in the morning. 

"Do you still have no answers for me, Y/N?" Taehyung looked at you. His eyes were sullen - no signs of the cheekiness that had peeked at you last night. Scattered rays fell across his body, highlighting the sunken cheeks, brooding eyes and tight smiles you could now see better in the daylight. 

You sighed- probably for the millionth time this night. "I do not understand your question, Taehyung." 

"You remember it. I've asked you thrice since I saw you again, Y/N. Do you not remember anymore? Do you not care for me? Was our idea of us nothing for you?" He looked at you with a myriad of emotions written all over his face- you looked away, not wanting to see them. 

Sighing, you gathered your thoughts the best you could. "Like I said, Taehyung." You looked at him- looking at the person you once fell in love with. The feeling you felt today, though, was much different. There was a feeling of running towards him, taking him in your arms and remembering who he was to you all over again, but it was overwhelmed by the confusion you felt - should you prioritize a past that wanted answers, or a future that was unsure? For now, you chose none pushing the time to make that decision further ahead. "We were an 'us' for only a few hours. Until you stood me up."

He rolled his eyes."That wasn't intentional, Y/N." 

"And how was I supposed to know that, Taehyung? I thought it was, since you had never told me anything beforehand."

Taehyung's eyebrows bunched together, as if coming to hear the stories that his eyes longed to tell- stories of events that you had never seen and never known. "Would you not hear me out, even once? For the sake of our old love?"

You bristled. "What love, Taehyung?" You got up to stretch your legs out, looking at the patchwork blanket that was stuffed in the corner. You had taken that for your first date with Taehyung, planning to cuddle with him and watch the stars - a date that never happened. "What love? A love where you don't speak to me for weeks, and then vanish for some crime? We were young then, and I got hurt then as it is. There's no need to go over this right now." 

"That was not my fault, Y/N. You know that." Taehyung seemingly sunk back into his chair, eyes downcast. "I had said I loved you. Before I ever went out with you." 

"Like that matters,” you scoffed, “what's the point in reminiscing promises from an old love?"

"At least, hear me out?" He looked up at you with hope sprinkled in the abyss of his eyes. "I don't want you to forget me."

You turned back to your chair, tearing your eyes away from the blanket that was now a pale blue in the sunlight - a few shades lighter than the cerulean colour it would be in the afternoon. "Not now, Taehyung." 

Taehyung sighed, looking at the floor, tension exhaled into the room. He sat silently for a few seconds, the ticking clock announcing each moment clearly to you. "That's fair. It's just.." He looked back at you. "I'm used to thinking of you as the person I loved." He nervously let his eyes pan around the windows, gazing at the sunshine that streamed through the window, before turning back towards your gaze. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I'm just really grateful for your presence-" 

"Taehyung." You sharply interrupted him. "Two years ago, when your case was reopened for investigation. Who did that?" 

"They told me that it was a well wisher in the neighbourhood. Another jailor said it was for good behaviour." He shrugged. 

You scoffed aloud, more loudly than you would have liked him to hear. 

He frowned, lips drawn in a tight line in annoyance. "Don't believe me? I'll have you know, Y/N, I was among the most well behaved at prison. Absolutely no tantrums. I even ate the salt-less, disgusting food they'd give there. No crying. Nothing. I can show you later on if you want, I think I have a report stuffed somewhere here," He got up, shuffled towards his bag and checked the last zip, hunting for a report you had never heard of. 

"It was me." 

Taehyung whirled around to face you, unruly hair swinging like the seats of a carousel at a carnival, and raised an eyebrow. "What were you?" 

"I was the one who insisted on opening the case for reinvestigation, the case of your stepfather's assault. Went around collecting evidence, searching for people who knew about your family better, getting their voices recorded, finding about the whole deal to frame you and stuff. Nearly got fired." You shrugged, sipping your espresso and wincing- too bitter. "You're welcome, by the way. The coffee is getting cold." 

"I don't care about the coffee." He moved the cup aside - nearly spilling the liquid, roughly settling back into the seat he had been occupying for the last few hours. "You were the one who asked for re-opening the case?" 

"Just said that." 

He slumped back in his seat, and your eyes took in how he spread himself out on the chair, tiredness lacing his figure. "I didn't know that." 

"Now you do." You said, sipping your coffee and watching Taehyung do the same. 

Taehyung stared blankly at you, and you couldn't fathom what was swirling in those ebony orbs of his. "Why did you do that, Y/N?"

"Honestly," you smile softly at him, "I was expecting a thank you."

"You should have expected questions, Y/N. Why did you help me?" Taehyung's blank expression made way for a confused one, eyebrows furrowing and lips pouting. 

"I did what I had to do as a-" You paused here, unsure of what to say. "As a friend, Taehyung, nothing more. I knew you were innocent-"

"How were you so assured?" He pressed on."I could be a complete 180 from the man I met you as. I could be fake. I could be an impostor. I could-"

"You could do a bunch of things, Taehyung." You stared him straight in the eye, trying to keep your emotions at bay. "But you could never tell a lie." 

Taehyung scoffed. "You sound like one of the wishy-washy pick-me kind of girls in the movie. No, I don't lie, but I could." 

You sighed. As much as you cared for Taehyung, you had never really cared for his argumentative attitude. "I went with the assumption that you were the same person I knew, Taehyung. The one whom I respected and trusted. I acted on that feeling." 

"That wasn't trust, Y/N. It was naivety. You were naive to believe me." Taehyung paused, uncertainty lining his forehead as he spoke. "You shouldn't have trusted me." 

You rolled your eyes- you couldn't understand why he was so desperate to make sure that you remained aloof from him. What had you done to be treated like that? What had he done to force everyone away from him? 

You tried to play off his remaining doubts and frustrations as insecurities he developed while in jail, and moved on."Alright then, you impostor. I was naive to trust you. And even more naive to believe you. Happy? Now shush. I don't want to talk about this." You tried to clear your mind of any doubts you had about Taehyung, but his behaviour, the way he interacted with you - it couldn't help but increase the worry and confusion in your mind.

Taehyung leaned forward to look you in the eye before smiling softly at you - you couldn't understand why. You were going to give him a criminal record, maybe arrest him. You were potentially ruining his life again, and he smiled at you. "If you say so, officer." Taehyung said, settling into the chair - leaving your mind reeling with questions you weren't sure you wanted the answers to. 

You opened the laptop again, wearily. "Let's get back to the questions; the sooner we finish this, the better. Where did you source the paint from?" 

"You mean the graffiti? And chalk?" You nodded. Taehyung sighed."Terminology, Officer, terminology. Make no errors." He raised a finger to wave at you, as if to say no. You rolled your eyes -it seemed that you were the only one concerned about what would happen to him after this, because Taehyung quite clearly was not. "I bought it with the allowance money that was kept for me in the bank- as much as I hated that man, his cards proved to be useful."

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You didn't steal it." 

"No. Took it from my step-father's account. Technically, now mine. Apparently he left everything to his children, and I'm the only one alive that I know of. Maybe he had other children- I wouldn't doubt it for a moment if he had, but that doesn't change my right to his money either." 

"Any other members of your family who had been granted access to that account?" You asked, wanting to make sure that there were no loopholes - you didn't want a future possibility of Taehyung being entangled with the wrong side of the law again. 

He rolled his eyes, leaning further. "Curious little thing, aren't you? Like I'd told you last night, most of them are dead. Mom had died a few months before I was arrested - thanks to my stepfather being an alcoholic and taking everything out on her. Grandmother already had massive health issues - she passed away after two years of me being in jail - they had let me come out for her funeral."

"My siblings - a brother and sister, if you remember - were taken in by a distant relative, and the last time I spoke to them was three years ago. I'm not allowed to contact them because I might end up being a 'bad influence'," he air quoted the words, laughing mirthlessly. "Guess they won't be too delighted to see me again. You probably know about my stepfather - got drunk and passed out. Permanently. But yeah, that's all. I'm pretty much the sole benefactor from that account."

Hearing how nonchalantly he spoke about it, you were forced to maintain a strong face and be professional. You couldn't possibly think of even wanting to comfort him in any way. "So, you were absolutely not stealing."

"Nope. No. Not at all. Want any further repetitions?" 

"That won't be necessary," You said, having typed out the information - tracking his expenditures would also be necessary now, apparently. "Any expenditure you make shall be monitored, now. Be careful."

"Always have been." He chuckled, getting back to spinning the glass on the table. "You know me." 

You ignored him. "Your cards will be tracked, and any loose cash will be checked by us. If we feel that there's any room for suspicion, you will have reason to be monitored." 

An odd silence filled the room while you tapped away at your laptop, filling in more details about the incident. Taehyung would be having a criminal record again, you thought to yourself. It was the only thought that echoed in your mind. It made you feel uneasy in a way, but you swallowed your unease down. There's a promotion to focus on. 

"Taehyung, something has been bugging me since I caught you vandalising." You shifted a little bit, before deciding to spit out the question. "Why did you do it?" You leaned forwards on the table, elbows digging into the wood as you tried to grasp the answers from him. 

Taehyung looked you in the eyes, and then looked away. "I don't know."

"You don't know." You raised your eyebrows, leaning back incredulously. "Taehyung, that's not an answer." 

"I did it because I wanted to. It was fun. I'd see kids in the morning pointing at my graffiti work and they would like it. There would be people claiming it looked good. I felt acknowledged and I just-" He pleaded, unable to continue without pausing to recollect his calm. "I felt like doing it. After years of having questions raised at me for committing a crime I never did, I finally had people talking about the work I did. Even if it was just chalk drawings." 

You exhaled in confusion. The Taehyung you had known - he was never like this. Confident, assured, independent. That was what he seemed to you when you were younger. And now, to see him want to be validated by others who never even cared for him- it felt ridiculous to you. Why was his only way of feeling validated involving something against the law? "Okay, then." 

You went through the complaints that had been registered against him, hand resting against your forehead as you asked him the most commonly asked question. "Why the insignia 'V'?" 

"V for victory?" He made a 'V' sign with his fingers, "I liked to think that I won against the world by rebelling against its sense of black and white. I saw everyone talk about it, and I felt like the same people who had once pointed fingers at me, blaming me for something I hadn't done, were now pointing fingers at something I had done - I felt victorious. I didn't need to show myself and possibly want more than I had already let myself have - this was enough for me." 

You pulled your lips in a tight line, and hummed in response - there were two places that together had put in about twenty complaints, so you had to respond to all of them. You kept reminding yourself that neither did you have the space to feel sorry for him, nor did you have the power to say sorry to him. You simply kept your head turned to the screen, typing in answers to all the complaints. 

Taehyung leaned forward after a few seconds. "What punishment do you think I'll get, Officer?" 

"If the chief is feeling good, maybe you'll get community service, with a fine," You looked up at him. "Or maybe some time in jail." 

"How much time?"

"Maybe a month or two?" 

"Oh." Taehyung slumped back into his seat nonchalantly. "Cool then." 

How was he this calm? You thought to yourself. He might be going to jail. For a second time.

"Yup." You shut the laptop, finally, after hours of typing information and recording it. Sighing, you lifted the porcelain mug once again to absolutely drain it of coffee, your rather loud gulps echoing in the silence of your office. 

Taehyung tapped his fingers on the table- probably some old tune he had learnt before. You remembered that he played the saxophone - from nights of serenading tunes that he had played for you with his beloved instrument. "How long do you think the chief will take to reach here?" 

"A few hours, maybe? I'd expect him around ten, to be honest. Nevertheless, let me check." You quickly called the chief on your phone, hearing his ringtone play some old Korean trot song before it was picked up. 

"Hello, yes, yes, Y/N. I expected your call." A gravely, rather rough voice responded to you- like it hadn't been used for a few hours. "I shall be reaching the office around eleven. Keep Taehyung with you." 

"Yes sir," you said, keeping the phone on your table and turning to Taehyung.  "The chief said he'll be here by eleven." 

Taehyung nodded in acknowledgement. 

"It's nearly eight thirty now." You looked at the cuckoo clock again. "Would you like to freshen up?" 

"Where?" Taehyung asked, eyes widening. "Shouldn't I just be at the office?" 

"Yeah, you should. My place is right here- the back of this office is where I live, so you'll be fine." You look down at his clothes, grease, paint and metal shrapnel all over them. "Besides, you look like you need a change of clothes." 

Taehyung stepped into your house with an air of curiosity, to see how his once classmate was living. His head stooped low to enter through the small door you had, eyes widening in surprise when he found that the hall of your house was larger than he had anticipated. 

The house was quaint, a hall with an old couch which doubled as a bed when needed. There was a table in the middle of the room, too low to be a dining table and too high to be a center table. For coffee, maybe? There were maybe five or six magazines scattered haphazardly over it, covering nearly every inch- except for one corner, where Taehyung spotted a shining acrylic blue. 

You, however, spotted what page you had left a magazine open at. Squeaking, "I'm sorry!" you ran to shut the booklet close, afraid that Taehyung would spot your love for shirtless men. 

Picking up the magazines, you grinned sheepishly at him. "Just a moment! I'll be back, a bit of cleaning to be done, sit right here!" You patted the couch, trying to convince Taehyung. 

Taehyung turned away from the pictures he had been observing- was there one of you both? - and nodded, eyes widening in surprise as he saw how you scuttled away to hide the magazines. He looked around again, taking a feel of your house- it seemed like the old you. There was some patchwork embroidery you had left in a corner, atop what seemed to be a showpiece? Taehyung stepped closer to see it in detail, and was amazed at the way you had managed to drag the red thread over and over the pink fabric to make floral designs. It reminded him of the rose he had been trying to complete the previous night, and he grit his teeth. He shouldn't be thinking about that now. That shouldn't be what he does anymore. No more.

You came back, looking quizzically at him. "Take a seat, Taehyung! It's alright." 

"Uh, yeah." He shuffled over to the couch again. "Did you make that?" 

You looked in the direction his finger pointed to. "Yeah. Tried doing embroidery for stress release purposes." 

Taehyung grinned at you. "Stress release?" He asked, bemused. 

"Yup." You said while making sure that the magazines were well hidden. "The department I wanted to be in was forensics, you know?" Taehyung nodded, he had been privy to most of your discussions about the advances in forensic technology and analysis - even if he didn't understand anything, he knew your love for it. "Well, they didn't allow me. So the whole 'stress' thing began." You walked back to him, making air quotes as you emphasized on stress. "My mother suggested embroidery would take my mind off it. So, that incomplete piece you see there?" Taehyung nodded, concentrating on every word that left your mouth. "That started a few days ago." 

"It looks like it's complete, though- are you really good at it?" Taehyung looked at you again, turning back from the embroidery you were now rising to get. 

"Pretty much? It's easy once you get the hang of it." 

"Ah." Taehyung said, a dull silence settling into the room for a few moments as Taehyung looked around your room.  

"That picture." He pointed, and you turned your head around. The picture he was focusing on was on your mantelpiece, resting happily. The frame had butterflies stuck on its corners, two large and two small. The border was white, now off white, and had pink dots in certain places. It was a picture of fireworks- red, yellow and blue mixing together in a dull sky to breathe life into the picture. And right in the middle, surrounded by this liveliness, were you and Taehyung. Beaming. 

Taehyung turned to, finger still pointing at the picture. "That's our picture, right?" 

You hummed in affirmation. "That's us, freshman party. We had known each other for a few weeks at this time."

"And I had stopped someone from asking you out, right?" Taehyung reminisced. "That was fun." 

You snort. "You had punched him in the face when he asked for my name, Taehyung." 

Taehyung smiled. "I didn't want anyone to harm you, Y/N, and he seemed like he would harm you." He spread out his arms and grinned smugly at you. "In a way, I rescued you. That night." 

And so many other nights, you wanted to say. For all the time you had known Taehyung, he had been fiercely protective of you - for reasons he never truly told you. You didn't question it either, basking in the feeling of being wanted by someone. 

You cleared your throat, hoping to clear your mind as well. "You should go take a shower, Taehyung." Glancing at the clock, you noted the time and motioned towards the washroom. "It's nearly nine. Go take a shower, call for me if you need anything. I'll go get some clothes for you."

Taehyung nodded, rising up slowly to go in the direction you pointed. "Towels are inside," you shouted after him, and he yelled in response to say he understood. In some ways, too many ways, he felt like the Taehyung you once knew. 

You went to your room to pick out some clothes, opening your meager collection to salvage something that would fit Taehyung. Your eyes scanned over your uniforms, jumpsuits, jeans, t-shirts and finally landed on the hoodies- probably the largest collection in your wardrobe. Thankfully, you loved large, loose hoodies. You started pulling them out, holding each one up and imagining Taehyung's proportions in them. 

The red one, with blue paw prints. "Nah. Too tight." 

The black plain one. "That's mine, I'm not sharing that." 

The grey ones- nearly three. You skipped over all of them, not understanding how none of these oversized hoodies would seemingly fit Taehyung. He'd gotten humongous, broad shoulders and everything. 

You picked out a few more, trying to see whether it would be a fit. None worked. 

When you picked up the next one, you could already picture him wearing it. It was the hoodie you had taken from Taehyung during the first year you knew each other. You looked at its loose sleeves, stretchy from you tugging Taehyung behind you with it way back then. The green fabric of the hoodie was slightly pale in a certain spot - you had spilled soda all over him in a fit of anger.

During your forensic chemistry class,  the teacher didn't recognise their mistakes in the procedure (they used the wrong test for detecting the sample, and blamed it on you), and you were pretty miffed the whole day. Taehyung had bought sodas for the two of you, having planned to go stargazing later on. And you, in a terrible mood, flipped him off in a way that had the soda spilling over him. You cried, Taehyung laughed, but the hoodie was still stained. You took it with you later on to clean it - but the stubborn stain never left. You were agonized, Taehyung amused, but the hoodie- it was still stained. Taehyung had laughed it off, telling you to keep it with you for as long as you wanted- he could buy a dozen more hoodies to last him till then. 

When you left to head home that winter break, you had taken the hoodie with you. You had taken it on your date, crying on its sleeves when you were stood up. And when you came back, Taehyung was suddenly a criminal. 

You shook your head to remove the memories of that time, holding the hoodie in your hand and gently caressing its sleeves. So many memories were held in these threads that meshed together to form the fabric of your youth. Good or bad? You didn't want to dwell on that. 

"Y/N? Could I get the clothes now?" Taehyung called from the washroom. You picked up a extra large pair of cotton shorts and a hoodie, and passed it to him without really thinking- you'd done it before when he got drunk at college too, having him come over at your place, shower, change, and practically behave like a couple- at least, that's what you had thought of it then. 

Get it together, Y/N, why are you thinking about that? 

"Thanks!" he shouted again, grasping the clothes with his fingers and whisking them away to the confines of the washroom. 

You gripped at your hair and pinched your cheeks. You couldn't keep thinking about the old Taehyung. You didn't know if it was truly him anymore. 

"Uh, Y/N?" Taehyung stepped out of the washroom, the previously oversized shorts clinging to his thighs for dear life and the hoodie snugly fitting his figure. "I think it's a bit tight, but I'll make do." 

Your eyes widened in horror; Taehyung looked like he was moments away from bursting the shorts. "I'll get you new pants, wait a second. These ones don't fit." 

You turned back to your cupboard, looking for the loosest bottoms you could find. "I think the hoodie still fits though, right?" 

"Yeah." You heard Taehyung right over your shoulder, scaring you. 

"Jeez, when did you get this close to me?" You turned to face him, crossing your arms, looking at his hair which still had droplets sticking to its edges. 

"When did you get this far from me, Y/N?" His eyes bore into yours, sweetly intense eyes gazing at you like it was the first time he saw you. "What happened?" 

You shrugged, not wanting to answer it. You picked up a loose pair of denim jeans that you had found stuffed away at the back of your closet. Pushing it into his hands, you told him to go change. 

Apparently, your instructions fell on deaf ears. "What happened, Y/N? Answer me. Please."

You moved your gaze to his clothes, not wanting to focus on the thoughts that rushed back when you thought of him. What had happened? You moved your hands to your sides, resisting the need to hold him and know him all over again. "The hoodie looks good on you. Would you-" 

"So do our hands." He held yours, snugly fitting his palm- your calloused fingers against his calloused ones, heat burning in the sleeping embers of your palm. His eyes gazed at the joint fingertips almost reverently. "They fit well."

"Taehyung, now is not the time-" You begin, cut off by his frantic breathing.

"When is the time, Y/N? When will I get to live? When will I get to feel like a human? When will I be innocent?"

His hand caressed your palm, touching your forearm, your elbow, your shoulder, and your cheek -leaving a burning trail behind him everywhere he touched. You shivered. "Do you know how long I have wanted you, Y/N? Years. Seven years, now. I have loved you for years. I have wanted you for years. I did all sorts of things to remember you while in jail- kept asking for you, kept calling for you. I didn't want to forget you, Y/N. Not you. I couldn't forget you, no." 

He pressed your palm to his chest, and you could feel a dull thump echo through the clothes, reverberate in your palms. "That fire, Y/N. My passion in the promises I'd made to you. It never went anywhere. I always loved you. I always will. You can't make me leave again, not again. Please, no." 

He held your palm up to his cheeks, not regarding the tears that were streaking your cheeks and his. "You feel me, right? It's me. Taehyung. I am the one you trusted. I'm the same. Trust me again. Please." 

You tried to hold back the tears that threatened to slide down your cheeks, not wanting to pain Taehyung anymore. He held your forehead to his, pressing on the back of your head to meet his - upclose, you could see the redness that clouded the shine that his eyes would normally have. You couldn't hold back your tears anymore, nearly whimpering when you saw how broken he was- sirens swimming in the whirlpool of his eyes, singing songs of misery. "You know me, right? Do you know me? Do you recognize me? Kim Taehyung, police cadet. Your friend. Your classmate. You know me, right?" He asked, nose nearly brushing yours. "Do you know me?"He cried, eyes washing over the fire that ignited behind his pupils. You didn't see a vandal, or a criminal, or a friend. You saw a broken man. 

"Taehyung, oh, Tae," you cried, putting your hands on his shoulders, watching him slink down to the ground as his body trembled and shivered. You wrapped your arms close around his figure, unable to understand his pain but just wanting it to go away. 

You sat like that for a while, coaxing the tears and short whimpers out of him as he held onto your fingers, wanting to remember something he once had: you. 

"I always asked for you, you know that?" Taehyung shivered as he spoke, even if the chills of the weather outside barely seeped into your home. "I always loved you. I don't know why they kept me there for so long, Y/N. I didn't do anything wrong. I don't know why I'm made to feel like this…" he trailed away, tears gathering at his chin as they endlessly flowed down his cheeks. 

You glanced a nervous eye at the clock, wanting to make sure that you get to the station- no matter what happens. The bubbling of water distracted you from the ticking of the clock, and you turned off the stove. Scouring your cabinets for a chamomile tea bag was hard, but you knew you needed it. Taehyung always seemed to calm down with tea - you had used it multiple times before. Times of which you have multiple memories. Times you wish to forget. 

Why did I ever love Taehyung? The question kept echoing in your mind as you leaned on top of the kitchen counter top. Things would have been so much simpler if simply looking at him wasn't so hard. His smile, his behaviour, his tears - it was all but a painful reminder of what you could have been if things had gone different. If only. 

You poured the hot water into the mug you had settled on the kitchen top, watching the water bloom into a serene shade of yellow as you dipped the tea bag into it repeatedly. You prepared one mug, then another, hearing the soft declarations Taehyung kept repeating while he was seated. 

All you had wanted to study was forensic science, and that was simply for one reason: you didn't want to interact with people. 

People are complicated, over emotional beings. and you couldn't help but feel helpless every time you had to encounter a suspect. You would constantly be told by your professors to see them as lawbreakers - but all you tried finding was signs of humanity in them. That even the most vicious killers had scope for reform. That's why you stuck to the subjects you wanted - you were good at finding signs of life, not squashing them. You consistently failed those classes, without any doubt. And today, it seemed like all those classes were laughing at you. 

"Here." You handed the mug to Taehyung, who muttered thanks. He rubbed his hands once or twice on the pants you told him to change into and took a sip from the warm tea. You resisted the urge to reach out and wipe the tears that lined his face, and try and wipe the scars of the past that had scarred him so badly - but you couldn't. You were a mere spectator in the game of his life. You couldn't possibly do anything other than hurt him more. 

"Thank you. For letting me express all of it. I could finally say everything that I wanted to before I was forbidden from speaking about it again." Taehyung tapped against the mug, fingernails resting on ceramic as the sun slowly headed westward. "I'm sorry that I've been such a burden to you, Y/N. I wonder if I can do anything to reduce the pain and confusion I put you through - I doubt I can." He looked at you carefully, though you couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Thank you." 

You let his words echo in the room, preoccupied with your thoughts. It hurt you to see him so broken, and you couldn't help but worry about him. 

"Taehyung, I-" You opened your mouth to respond, watching Taehyung pay attention to every move you made - only to be interrupted by your phone loudly ringing. 

"Sorry, this must be important." You got up to get your phone, watching Taehyung slump in his seat from the edge of your vision. 

"It's the chief," you announced, picking up the phone. 

He got straight to the point. "Come to the station, soon. Bring Taehyung with you." he told, his voice laced with a rather sharp edge- a tone that you had recognized in the years you had worked under him. Things were- most probably- not good. 

You responded with a simple "yes", mind dwelling on the impending result that Taehyung would get. You felt that it would be unlikely that he would be going to jail- at least, you hoped so.

Turning to Taehyung, you tried to hide the fear and shakiness that lined your voice. "Let's go." 

Taehyung sighed, playing with the mug as he rose up. "It's time, isn't it?"

"Good morning, Sir." You greeted the chief as he hurried into the small office, giving Taehyung a glance and then facing you. 

"Morning." He gruffly responded, turning to your laptop. "We found an eyewitness for the vandalism, so we are getting them for the interrogation as well." 

"Another interrogation? We've already done it, sir, and all the information is recorded here. I doubt it will be necessary-"

"Please, Y/N," He calmly said. "Leave the decision about it being necessary to me." 

You stepped back, subconsciously edging closer to Taehyung - a move noticed by the chief as well. 

"Y/N," he began, "I need to speak to you. In private. Step outside for a few moments, please." 

You nodded, briskly walking towards the doors and yanking them open. There was a warm gust of wind that blew across your face, and you turned to face the chief. 

"Y/N," the chief began, before pausing for a moment, "Officer Y/N. I'm going to need you to think clearly now." 

"Yes." You set your features as tightly as you could, not wanting to seem distracted in any way. 

"Do you have any type of bias in this case, perhaps due to your past relation with him?" he looked quizzically at you, as if trying to decipher an enigma scribbled onto your face. 

Your blood chilled, for some reason. Were you having any bias? "No, sir." 

The chief hummed - you couldn't make head or tail of his reaction. He kicked at a pebble before continuing. "From the recordings I heard the previous night in the office, and the way you let him come with you to freshen up a bit, one particular thing has struck me: you were trying to find reasons for Taehyung to be justified as a victim, weren't you?" 

You gulped before responding. "Yes, sir. I believe the culprit committed vandalism as a coping mechanism to get over the hurt caused over the years." 

The chief sighed heavily. "Well then," he said, "I suggest we continue with our investigation, and find a way to make sure the culprit in the matter is stable as well. We can't have repeated cases like these - we have a reputation to uphold for the police as well." 

You nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir." 

The chief sighed again, glancing at the street. "Our witness should be here soon." He turned to you again. "Funnily enough, she volunteered as a witness with CCTV backup to claim that Taehyung had vandalized her shop too. Apparently she heard you arrest him last night - so we have to hear her out." 

The chief turned again to the road, eyes narrowing in hopes of spotting the witness soon. "The investigator whom she contacted has said she is a reliable witness, but I'm going to need to verify her statement nonetheless." He turned back, heading into the office.

You stared at the road that the chief was looking at before - the direction from which the supposedly reliable eyewitness would come, before heading back inside. 

Taehyung was still slumped in his seat, fingers tracing drawings all over the pants you had given him. The chief was shuffling around behind the desk, pulling two spare chairs ahead - one for Taehyung, you presumed, and one for the eyewitness - whoever that would be. 

"Mr. Kim Taehyung," the chief began, "there has been an eyewitness who has offered their testimony - whether it is to defend you, or further establish evidence of you vandalizing public spaces, I'm not yet aware. We shall be interrogating them - and maybe you, as well, now." 

Taehyung rose up from the corner he had settled into, and shuffled into the seat the chief had set for him, wordlessly. 

The door opened to reveal an older lady, dressed in a purple shaded hanbok, hair delicately pulled back into a tight bun and eyes peering around the whole office in curiosity. She found the chief, walking closer to the desk where he was arranging the records. "I'm here as the eyewitness..?"She said, looking at both you and the chief. 

"Ah, yes. I presume you're Ms. Park?" The chief asked, pulling the chair out for her to settle into it. Under the light that shined across her face, you could make out the wrinkles that lined her skin and the greys in her hair - not that that was relevant to what would happen. 

"I saw him vandalize the outside of my store a few days ago," she earnestly began, pulling out pictures that she had taken of the design on her window.  "I'm a florist, you see. His designs are clearly inspired by that, aren't they?" She pushed the pictures in front of your vision, and you could see what she meant - the designs of orchids, hibiscus and asters stared back at you, intricately painted onto the glass windows of the florist's shop. 

She pulled out more pictures. "There's been similar instances all over the neighbourhood- the other florist had a rose, the school received drawings full of children's stories and fairy tales, and had their walls painted with similar stories. In fact, the restaurants around here even said that their menus were drawn onto the streets, right in front of their doorstep." 

The chief looked at the pictures carefully, with you peering at them as well, taking in the detail that Taehyung had while he worked while making each of his works- no, vandalising, you corrected yourself. He raised an eyebrow at the eyewitness, who seemed to shrink into her seat. "What does this bring forward as evidence for or against the culprit? We already know what the crime is, and its details. We just have to determine a punishment- either a hefty fine or jail. Do you have anything that can justify him getting exempted from either?"

Ms. Park looked at you and the chief before turning to Taehyung apologetically, placing a hand on his knee - as if consoling him. "I think that at the end of the day, all he was doing was beautifying the neighbourhood, wasn't he? And most of the residents here don't have a problem with it-" the chief looked at her incredulously- "so please, don't punish him or something. A lot of people appreciate his work in our neighborhood, you know?" 

"But we have been receiving complaints about him since the past few days," the chief said. "Why the sudden change in opinion?"

Ms. Park fidgeted with the hem of her hanbok for a few moments, shaking her head nervously. "Some of us shopkeepers were really bothered by it at first, yes, but we also had some customers come over to inquire about the artwork. It looked professional to them. So we came to an ultimatum : we will let this young man paint and draw for us, on our walls, as much as he wants - as long as it's pretty," she emphasized, one hand patting her chest, "we'll pay him to do it." 

You held back a sob as you saw Taehyung's eyes glimmer - a ray of hope shining in them.His knee bounced up and down- a habit you knew was something he had had since years - and he smiled softly when Ms. Park squeezed his hand. You felt like things were finally going to go well. The chief exhaled roughly before rubbing his forehead, glancing at Ms. Park, who smiled at him in the hope that he would understand her reasoning. 

"The law, honestly, doesn't care about intentions- I don't think I really understand why I should even let him go. Vandalism is a punishable offence, and the perpetrator has been aware of its consequences. Why the sudden feeling to save him?" The chief questioned, eyes steely and tough. 

Ms. Park hesitated for a few moments. "I believe he deserves a second chance." She pulled her chair ahead, the metal ends scraping against the tiles, and pleaded once again. "He was arrested for years for something he hadn't even done - and now, might face a few more months in the same place for simply being artistic. I don't think it deserves punishment."

"That's for the law to decide, not you, madam." The chief sternly said. "I suggest you leave such decisions to us."

The room remained tense and quiet for the next few moments, and your eyes were trained on Taehyung. You noticed the quiver in his hands, the way he shrunk into his chair - as if to hide away from whatever the upcoming decision would be. 

Ms. Park was the first to interrupt the loud silence. "Oh, come on. Let me just pay for the boy's bail." 

The clock chose that moment to loudly announce the next hour: was it eleven? Twelve? You weren't paying attention. You only saw the way Taehyung rose up from his seat - in happiness, you thought - with fists sticking to his sides. "No. I won't accept it." 

You felt the chief look with just as much disbelief as you did. Why was he so hellbent on being a perpetrator when he could be free? 

Ms. Park laughed. "No. I'm not listening to that whole self righteous thing that you probably have," she swatted the air with her hand, as if to push away any explanations Taehyung could give.

"Look, ma'am. I have the money to get a bail, or even pay the fine. I don't want you to pay for me and then hold it above my head like a massive favour you have done for me." Fire blazed in his eyes as he spoke up, rather indignantly. "I can take care of myself." 

"To hell with that attitude," Ms. Park said. "I decided to help you because I didn't want you to suffer once again because of misunderstandings." She pulled Taehyung back to sit on his chair, clasping his hand between her wrinkled ones. "You had to go through so much pain at such a young age - no one deserves that. I was a mere bystander at the time you were arrested, and I regretted it then. I still regret it now." 

She sighed before caressing the back of his hand lovingly, thumb gently pressing on the skin- as if to feel the pain those hands had to go through, and you thought you saw a hint of a tear on his cheeks. "So don't question me for 'saving' you, or something - what you did was perfectly fine for me. I love the way my street looks now, and so do the neighbours. All that really remained was the artist's identity- and now that I know it's you, I don't feel any sort of guilt in justifying what you did." 

You were right. Taehyung was crying. It wasn't silent tears that rained gently down his cheeks, it was a whole thunderstorm. You saw the chief turn away, from the corner of your vision, but you couldn't bring yourself to do the same. He was biting on his bottom lip to hold back any of the sobs or whimpers that came, head lowering to hide the tears. 

Ms. Park simply caressed his hand, over and over, till he calmed down enough to wipe his tears with his free hand. And when he raised his head up, you saw him like a new person. The wound up Taehyung you had met again a few hours ago was slowly vanishing - in his stead, there was a free Taehyung who smiled like the world's burden had been lifted off his shoulders. "Thank you," he murmured. 

The chief sighed again. "I still don't understand how it came to this." 

"Neither do I," Ms. Park laughed. "But it is what it is. We'll pay the fine."

"I'll do it," Taehyung started, only to be shushed by the elder lady. "I want to do it. Let me do it." She turned again to the chief, the bubbly happiness giving way to seriousness. "You can make sure he pays the fine, right? Withdraw the complaints for us too." 

The chief looked at you and nodded, and you got to work - carefully opening the laptop again and making sure that you transferred the report from 'investigation' to 'resolved', and that the complaint was withdrawn. 

The chief, meanwhile, made physical records of it, and informed Taehyung of the fine - which, despite his insistence, Ms. Park paid off, whipping out a cheque she had kept ready, somehow. You added the details to his resolved record as the chief dictated them to you, keeping them for future references - which you hoped would only be needed to prove his innocence in any situation. 

Nearly twenty minutes of details, questioning, and a written assurance from Taehyung that he would be liable to arrest if he continued illegal activities, it was done. Taehyung was free. 

The chief read over the details once again, thoroughly, eyes getting heavier and softer with every document he checked. Once it was all done, filed, and you had stacked the records back in the drawers they were placed in, the chief sagged into the chair, hands clutching the steel arms for support. 

"Thank God," he whispered, eyes closed. "You're fine now." He got up shakily, hands wiping at his eyes to erase any traces of the tears that had possibly leaked out. He walked around the table, reaching for Taehyung - as if beyond the lines of that desk, his duties as an officer stopped and those as a teacher resumed. "Don't you dare do that again, Taehyung. Never again." He held his student by the shoulder tightly, gripping him and shaking him a little - like a parent would scold a kid. "Live a good life, please." 

Taehyung nodded frantically, eyes still wide in disbelief as he ignored the grubby tear streaks on his face. "I will, sir." He had his hands placed politely in front of him, trembling fingers clutching onto the rough denim fabric of the old, loose jeans you had made him wear. 

"Live well," the chief repeated again, thumping Taehyung's shoulder once and then turning around to collect the documents he would need to take with him. He bowed to Ms. Park, who acknowledged him before something at a corner of the small office caught her eye, and turned sharply to you. "Officer Y/N," he began, and you tensed a little bit more. "There was an opening last night in the forensic science department that I got notice of," he said, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips when he saw how your demeanor brightened. "Reach the head office tomorrow in the morning at ten, and I'll give you the details. All the best." 

You hastily held back the sudden smile that threatened to split on your face, smartly saluting your senior before he turned around to leave the office. As he opened the door, you felt a burst of warmth all over your body - the heat of the sunshine rushing into the room. 

Ms. Park walked from her corner to Taehyung, taking his palm between hers and squeezing. "I'm happy that you're free now, Taehyung." She looked carefully at his face - sternness making way for soft concern, and said, "Live wisely. If you need money, or a job to get you started, come to my shop - it's the one you painted with orchids. You remember it, right?" 

Taehyung responded with a rather choked 'yes', nodding his head frantically. He placed his other, trembling hand upon the lady's hands, and solemnly thanked her. 

"That's not needed, I told you." She smiled, before patting his cheek. "You deserve to let yourself live, so use this chance well. Work hard." She turned her head to look through the window behind her, groaning a bit at the sight of the brightly burning sun. "I better leave now - it seems that I'll end up getting a sunburn the nearer to twelve it is." She turned back to Taehyung, smiling softly, and patting his cheek. "Turn up at the shop tomorrow morning, we'll figure something out." 

"Oh, and officer?" she faced you, pointing in the corner where she was standing a few moments before. "I think my grandson had left his plushie over here a few days ago - it's this one, right?" You followed where her hand was pointing, finding a pumpkin plushie left casually on top of a table. "Sungwoo told me he had lost it some time ago, so I just thought it was this one," she laughed awkwardly. 

"I think it is his, he had come yesterday to file a missing complaint for it too," you said, causing Ms. Park to laugh. "He really loves it, doesn't he?" 

"He's not slept well since it went missing. Anyways, I better take it with me, if that's all."

"Just a moment, ma'am," you stopped her hastily. "He'd left a note for the plushie too - I believe Peter?" 

The elderly woman laughed at her grandson's antics, taking the note you offered her and grinning as she read it. "Yes, yes, Peter. I'll take the note with me. Thank you so much for everything, officer."

Thank you, you wish to say - unable to understand how she volunteered to be an eyewitness and defend the one person you cared so much for. Maybe words wouldn't be enough for you to convey how grateful you were to her, so you simply bowed to the woman. 

She took Taehyung's hand again, gently pressing on the back of his hand. "Your mother used to help me out in the shop, you know." Taehyung nodded, and she smiled. "Your hands are like hers. Delicate, yet strong. You can craft beauty with this hand, Taehyung." She squeezed his hand, smiling. "Don't just let that beauty slip away from you." 

She patted his hand again, before turning to you and smiling, and heading out. The sunlight bounced off her gray hair to shine on Taehyung as you looked at him - even with a tired expression, he looked more alive than you had seen him in the last few hours. 

"I'm free," he said, saying it aloud and letting himself feel the sensation for a few moments. 

He turned to you, watching the way your eyes told him that you understood everything you wanted to tell him - even the things he himself didn't understand. "I'm free, Y/N," he repeated, carefully examining his wrists that were once bound with handcuffs - no. There were no restraints there. 

His eyes panned around the room. There was no investigator who questioned him about why he simply couldn't admit his crime. No one who made fun of him for seeking comfort in his art - even if it was illegal. "I'm really free," he murmured again.

Taehyung leaped towards you, pulling you close and holding you tight, as if unable to believe that you were there with him: and that he was here with you for as long as he wanted to be. You let your arms circle around his neck, one curling through the hair at his nape and pulling him further into your embrace, and the other spread out over his back - trying to remind yourself that yes, he was here, with you. 

"Thank you," you felt him murmur into your shoulder. 

"For what?"

"Just being here. With me." He sighed, further tightening the hands that rested around your waist. "After so many unfamiliar faces over the years, seeing yours feels like a reward of sorts for behaving well." 

You laughed at him, slapping his back light heartedly. "Don't talk like you did anything wrong all those years ago. It's not good." You let your hands pane across the expanse of his skin, feeling him cling on to you as you tried to calm him down. "I'm happy for you, Tae." 

He held you like that, for a few more moments - like you were slowly pulling him back into what could be his new normal life. Waking up every day in a room that doesn't have steel bars as a door. Not having to crash at the old house that had haunted him for years. Not having to hide his face in the fear that someone would taunt him for his past. Actually doing something that made him feel happy, confident, and alive. 

"I'm happy too," he murmured into your shoulder. You hummed as he looked beyond your frame to see the streets outside the window - seeing how they were illuminated in daylight. How animatedly people were talking about what their plans for the day were. A kid kept hopping on a chalk drawing of hopscotch he had drawn on the footpath, clutching onto a plushie that oddly seemed like a pumpkin. Someone walked around their stall, setting things up for the day. 

You pulled him away from your grip to look at him again - not wanting to forget any part of him in any way. "I still care for you as much as I did all those years ago, you know." You put your hands on his biceps, just as you used to do when you had to knock sense into your friend. "You better not hide anything from me now." 

"I have no intentions of," he grinned. "Thank you very much." 

You giggled, a feeling you hadn't felt in years fluttering around your stomach like butterflies. 

"About us," Taehyung began, holding your hands in his, "You know that I love you, right?" You felt yourself tense up, and probably Taehyung did too, as he squeezed your hands. "I'm not in any hurry. I want to take some time to understand myself and what I want to do before I think of anything with you. But when I'm settled, and I'm someone I can be proud of, I want to come back to you. Be with you forever." He let go of your hands to hold your cheeks, smiling as he saw your big eyes peer at him. "You'll let me, right?" 

Your eyes softened. "Of course, Taehyung."

"Tae." He corrected you, coming closer to press a kiss on your forehead. 

You smiled when he moved back, glancing down at all of him and laughing. "For beginners, how about we get you clothes to change into?" 

He looked down at his clothes, laughing with you. "Let's go, then?" 

You nodded at him, pulling him out of the office, and locking it securely before turning to a widely grinning Taehyung. "I have a feeling I'm going to love the daytime. It's just so positive, and nice, don't you think? Really warm all over." 

"You're just saying that because you lived like a night owl," you laughed at him, watching his eyes sparkle in the sunshine. 

"Yeah, that wasn't the best way to live, was it?" He clicked his tongue and frowned. "Guess I better start living well now. To new beginnings, then, Officer!!" He grinned and poked your forehead. 

You watched Taehyung skip over the pebbles that were lined outside the office, walking freely on the streets, feeling the dread that you had let build up in your heart for so long slowly drain out of you. "Wait for me!" You screamed behind him, running to catch up to him. To new beginnings, you thought. 

a/n: hopefully, this piece of writing was worth your time 😊 thank you so much for reading graffiti and chalk!! I'd love to hear any feedback you have. Feel free to send it in as a comment, reblog, or as an ask! love, hazel 💞

taglist: @taejinnies (the torture is over bahaha), @xiaokoo, @thedarkwinterrose, @shatzkrinslinzki

masterlist

[pawsitivelymiraculous]

Le parfum de l'amour

This is the @maribat-secret-santa-2020 piece for @saltandfluff I am so sorry for being late!

Anyway, I will be using the quantic kids, but you don't necessary have to know them to understand this fic.

The only have to know that "Melodie" is Allegra's nickname.

Ao3

It was always a bad idea to try to mess with fate. Everyone knew this. Allegra knew this, but she didn't care. Not when it was taking a toll on her sanity.

There were only so many times a person could see two literal soulmates walk past each other before they decided to take matters into their own hands.

So that's what she did.

Or well, was going to do once she could convince her friends to help her out.

"I don't know, Mel." Allan rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "These things take time you know? You cannot rush it." He glanced at the corkboard that was behind Allegra and winced, it was going to be impossible to talk her out of the crazy plan.

On the corkboard, there were two pictures. One was a selfie of Marinette Dupain-cheng. A twenty-year-old who was a regular at the café where Allegra and Claude worked at. After chatting with her in the mornings, Allegra decided to adopt the girl, and she introduced her to the rest of the group. She quickly became friends with Allan and surprisingly enough, with Felix as well.

The second picture was a rather blurry photo that was clearly taken from afar. You could sort of make out the image of Timothy Drake. The sleep-deprived twenty-one-year-old who had started going to the café for about a month. All the employees loved him because he never failed to amuse everyone with his half-asleep antics.

The one thing that both pictures had in common was a coffee cup.

On Marinette's collarbone, there was a small tattoo-like mark that looked like a coffee cup. The same one that was on Tim's wrist. Soul marks . Granted, they looked a bit plain compared to most people's soul marks, but in Allegra's eyes, they were the excuse she needed to get them together.

Allegra had shipped her two favorite customers long before she noticed their soul marks. But now that she knew they were soulmates . Well, she was not going to rest until they finally met.

"I'm not trying to rush things!" Allegra insisted. "I just want to push them in the right direction."

Allan looked at her, doubtful. "That's basically the same thing. Plus do actually think that," he squinted to read the list of plans that was tacked on the corkboard. "'Locking them inside a room with no escape' is merely pushing them in the right direction? 'Cause I think that sounds more like a hostage situation."

Allegra glared at him. "You know what? I don't need your help. Claude will help me. Right, Claude?"

Claude looked at her with wide eyes. "Oh no no no. Sorry Melodie but I can't."

"Uh, I'm sorry what?" Allegra blinked. It was very out of character for Claude to turn down the opportunity to help her with one of her elaborate plans. Not to mention that in this case, they were doing it to help Marinette.

"Allegra," he said solemnly, "this is a destiny thing. We just can't interfere."

Allegra facepalmed. "You can't be serious."

Claude looked at her dead in the eye. "If we interfere we might end up," he leaned towards  her and whispered " cursed"

"Oh give me a break." Allegra pushed Claude away. "Are you guys kidding me? This is Marinette we're talking about. You all can't possibly think that Marinette wouldn't want to meet her soulmate, and as her friends, we have to help her."

"I agree with Allegra."

Everyone spun around in surprise.

Felix rolled his eyes at his friends' incredulous expressions. "What? Marinette is my friend as well. Is it really that shocking that I want to see her happy?" The three of them nodded. He ignored them. "Besides, I've heard Marinette ramble about soulmates nonstop, so it's clear that meeting hers is what she would want."

Allegra was the first to react "See guys? Even Felix agrees with me!"

Felix huffed. "Yes, but I also think that your plans are ridiculous and ineffective."

"Ouch"

"I think the best thing we can do to help is to get them to interact and we-"

"That's literally what my plans are for!" Allegra interrupted.

Claude crossed his arms. "And what do you mean by 'we'? I haven't agreed to do anything."

Shooting both of them a glare, Felix continued. "- can do that without needing to kidnap them. We simply have to make it so that they have no other choice but to sit at the same table at the café. You all know how friendly Marinette is, it will only be a matter of time before they start talking."

There was a beat of silence.

"That… that might actually work," Allan admitted. "Soulmates are naturally drawn to each other so once they actually have a conversation we won't have to do anything else. They can figure out that they're soulmates by themselves." He paused and then chuckled. "We'll just have to push them in the right direction."

"But how are we going to get them in the café at the same time?" Allegra asked. "Tim always comes in right after Mari has left."

"Pft that's easy!" Claude exclaimed. "Just tell her that you need help with something and that you'll need for her to stay a while longer at the café. Since Mari doesn't have early classes on Wednesday she'll agree and- oh!" Claude suddenly slapped his hand over his mouth as his eyes widened with horror. "This does not mean that I'm helping." He mumbled from underneath his hand.

Allan laughed. "I think you just did."

"Looks like someone's going to end up cursed." Allegra singed songed. "Not even ladybug is going to be able to help you with that bad luck that's to come." She teased.

Claude pouted. "Haha, laugh all you want." He then looked up at the corkboard and grimaced. "But you're right, there's no turning back now. What do you need me to do?"

Allegra clapped her hands in glee.

"Okay so here's the plan."

~♡~♡~♡~

Just like Claude had predicted, it was incredibly easy to convince Marinette to stay at the café. All that was left to do was orchestrate everything just so that the two soulmates had to sit at the same table.

It was easier said than done but after enlisting more people to help out, they were able to make sure that the café was full for that morning.

Everything was going according to plan…

Until…

"WHERE. IS. TIM?"

Claude looked around. "He hasn't arrived yet?"

"No!" Allegra cried. She glanced down at her watch and winced. They were running out of time.

Claude frowned. "And you know, it would have been nice if Marinette hadn't chosen today to wear a turtleneck."

Allegra couldn't help but agree. Sure, Marinette looked amazing with the turtleneck and skirt outfit but did she really have to wear it today? When they needed for her to show off her soul mark?

It was like the universe was against them.

But finally, Allegra heard a tinkling sound at the door. She spun around praying that it was Tim.

And it was!

He looked more tired than usual as he stumbled around trying to find a seat.

Allegra watched as Tim danced around the tables that were being occupied just as he was about to take a seat.

One after the other until finally, a good push later, he ended up at Marinette's table.

~♡~♡~♡~

Tim was too tired to deal with this.

All he wanted was to sit down, have a couple of cups of coffee at his favorite coffee shop and finally be awake enough to continue investigating the moth guy.

But apparently, that was too much to ask because almost all the tables were full.

"Sorry man," Claude whispered as he guided a couple and motioned them to sit at the table that Tim had beelined for.

"Oh, actually I'm waiting for Adam." Felix had said when Tim asked if he could sit with him. Which was strange since Adam had said that he was waiting for Felix when he asked him.

But he could barely comprehend what they were saying, so he was not conscious enough to complain.

Tim continued on his journey when he felt someone push him from behind. In his half-asleep haze, Tim lunged at the chair that was in front of him hoping that it would break his fall.

It took him a few seconds to recover. He wanted nothing more than to pass out right then and there, splayed out on a coffee shop chair as everyone stared at him wondering if he was drunk.

He too wondered if he was drunk, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so if he was drunk, he was not going to figure it out on his own.

When he finally looked up, his eyes met with a pair of beautiful bluebell eyes.

~♡~♡~♡~

Marinette watched as a guy stumbled around the café until finally flopping onto the other chair at her table.

It was clear that he was sleep-deprived. She had seen enough videos that her evil friends had taken when she was in a similar state to know the poor guy probably hadn't slept at all for the last week or so.

Marinette wanted nothing more than to drag the guy to the nearest bed or couch and wrap him up in a bunch of blankets. Just because she didn't comprehend the term "self-care" for herself  didn't make Marinette any less of a "mom friend"

But she had to remind herself that she didn't know the guy, so it might be considered kidnapping to drag someone somewhere against their will.

Too bad.

The best she could do was offer him her own coffee.

"Hey, I think you need this more than I do at the moment." She said, pushing the drink his way as he stood up.

He mumbled something that could be interpreted as a "thank you" and eagerly took the drink. His eyes lit up when the heavenly liquid touched his tongue.

It was almost miraculous how quickly the caffeine took effect.

Actually, it was Marinette may or may not have mixed a little concoction she made with Tikki that helped her when she stayed up late with her regular coffee.

The guy blinked. "This. Is. Incredible."

Marinette laughed "Yeah, it's what I always get. Though you still look like you need to sleep."

"Yeah, yeah whatever." He waved her off. "But seriously, what is this called? I need a gallon of this."

"Sorry," Marinette said sheepishly "but I'm afraid that's a secret, you know, I'm kind of everyone's favorite, so I get the miracle coffee." Okay so that was a lie but what else could she say?

The guy pouted. Marinette had to admit that he looked adorable.

"Well, then I'm sure you can get me some then... um"

"Marinette."

"Ah, nice to meet you, coffee goddess, I'm Tim."

Marinette's cheeks heated up. "Uh, coffee goddess? Shouldn't they be the coffee gods and goddesses?" She pointed at Allegra, Claude, and the others.

"Nah, you have blessed me with this amazing coffee. Claude didn't even help me in my time of need."

"You know Claude?" Marinette asked, surprised.

"Yep, I've been coming here since I arrived in Paris, so I've gotten to know Allegra and Claude a bit."

"That's funny, I've never seen you. And I come here every day." Marinette said.

"Huh, that's weird. I've never seen you either. "

And from there they kept talking. Like they were old friends and not just acquaintances. Marinette found out that Tim had come from Gotham city. That he was in Paris because of business. Meanwhile, Tim learned that Marinette was an aspiring fashion designer and a college student who was close friends with almost everyone from the café.

Hours passed and the two were still deep in conversation completely oblivious to the crowd that had gathered behind the cafe's counter to watch the soulmates.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about this before." Adrien, who had arrived after Tim, whispered to his cousin.

"I was under the impression that your father needed your assistance for the upcoming fashion show. I was not about to ask my dear uncle Gabe if I could steal you so that we could set up our friend and his future competitor, Marinette Dupain-cheng, with her soulmate."

Adrien hated to admit that he had a point. "Fine, but can you at least catch me up to date? Who is he?"

"He's a rich guy from Gotham city. He's pretty cool though he's basically Marinette when it comes to coffee which is honestly kinda scary now that I'm seeing them interact." Allegra whispered.

Adrien looked down to look at her. "Alright, I guess I'm going to have to do my own research since you guys are useless. What's his job? Why is he rich? If his from Gotham then who knows, maybe this guy is actually dangerous and wants to take Marinette as ransom for-"

"Oh please Adrien, stop with your theatrics. Do you honestly think that I would allow this if he was dangerous?" Felix interrupted.

"I mean-"

Felix glared at him.

"No?"

Felix sighed. "Timothy Drake is Marinette's soulmate, and I can assure you that he's clean. So don't worry about Marinette."

Allegra shushed the cousins. "Guys, I'm trying to listen here you know?"

"Um, you could probably hear better from up here" Felix nodded in agreement.

"Thanks, Adrien, but I don't want to risk Marinette seeing me and then remembering about time and stuff."

"Ah"

"Speaking of time, it's been years since I last ate, I'm hungry." Claude cut in.

"Claude! You're supposed to be with the customers!" Allegra whisper-shouted.

"Whoops."

~♡~♡~♡~

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. Marinette eventually remembered the reason she had stayed in the cafe. Not only that but when she looked at her watch she realized that she was running late for class.

After Marinette's rushed exit, Tim went back to investigating Hawkmoth. But while they were trying to concentrate on their own thing. Marinette with her class and Tim with his research they found themselves zoning out and thinking about each other.

It was strange, they had quite literally just met.

Why had they made such an impact on each other?

~♡~♡~♡~

It wasn't until Marinette was getting ready to go to bed that she found the answer.

"Tikki is… is that what I think it is." Marinette's voice trembled as she stared at her reflection on the mirror.

Tikki gasped. "Oh Marinette, I think it is!"

Staring back at her was her soul mark, which no longer was a regular coffee cup but rather a gorgeous cup with beautiful red flowers that surrounded a somewhat familiar symbol.

"But, how? I mean they're not supposed to change… right? And why?" Marinette's eyes widened. "Does this mean that I met my soulmate? Who is it?"

Tikki giggled, "You seriously don't know?"

"Umm no? Should I?" Tikki continued to giggle as her holder looked at her confused. "Who is it Tikki?"

"Oh Marinette, how many new people did you meet today?"

"Uh, I don't know? I mean surely I must've passed by lots of strangers in the street." Marinette panicked. "Oh no Tikki! What if one of them is my soulmate? I'll never find out who they are!"

"So you don't remember meeting anyone else?"

"I don't think so, well other than ohhh- "

"Exactly"

~♡~♡~♡~

Tim could not believe what he was seeing. Gone was the plain coffee cup he was used to seeing, the daily reminder of the fact that he was still painfully single, it now had an intricate flower pattern that surrounded a symbol.

He recognized that symbol.

After weeks of researching and tailing the red Parisian heroine, he knew that it was the Ladybug symbol.

But why was it on his soul mark?

Unless…

No, the heroine couldn't be his soulmate, Tim hasn't even officially met her. Nor had he even seen her today.

The only blue-eyed girl he had met was Marinette.

Marinette  

No, it was impossible. Except it wasn't. Tim had only known the girl for a couple of hours, but he knew that  Marinette would make a great heroine or vigilante.

But, he… he was probably hallucinating, right? Tim hadn't slept for weeks, so surely he was just seeing things and his soul mark was still a plain coffee cup and the Marinette conclusion was just wishful thinking.

Right?

Because otherwise, his first meeting with his soulmate was him acting like a sleep-deprived zombie and Tim could not allow that.

Well, one thing was for sure, he really needed to get some sleep.

~♡~♡~♡~

Three days.

It took three days for Marinette to find Tim.

She looked everywhere. The coffee shop, Le Grand Paris Hotel, the tourist areas, and when she was ladybug she looked down from all the rooftops trying to find him.

But he had vanished, leaving Marinette worried sick that he had either A. Gone back to Gotham  B. Died or C. Been so horrified that she was his soulmate that he decided to move to a remote island and changed his name in hopes of never seeing her again.

Gosh, she was starting to sound like her fourteen-year-old self.

But finally, she saw him, sitting on a bench, not far from her own home, looking down at his wrist.

He looked at his wrist like it was some puzzle he needed to solve. Marinette also noticed that he looked a lot more refreshed, so he must've finally gotten some sleep.

Marinette cleared her throat. "Well, you've been a very hard person to find Mr. Drake."

Tim looked up. "Ma- Marinette!"

"We need to talk."

Tim nodded his mouth hanging wide open as he stared at her soul mark.  

"How do you feel about coffee? There's a coffee shop that's not very far from here, I hear their coffee is divine.

~♡~♡~♡~

Bonus:

(this was going to be a scene on the fic but I didn't know how to add it but it has important info sooo)

*They are at the coffee shop*

Marinette: So you're red robin.

Tim: And you're Ladybug

Marinette: Should I be worried? Like doesn't this compromise our secret identities?

*Claude and Allegra appear with some pastries*

Claude: Yooo Marinette! So you found your soulmate! Crazy right? We totally didn't have anything to do with it!

*Allegra elbows him*

Claude: So uh, congratulations! I um feel happy for you.

*looks nervously at Allegra who is glaring at him*

Claude: Bummer about the soul mark though…

*Allegra keeps glaring*

~♡~♡~♡~ Permanent tag list  ~♡~♡~♡~

Claude: What? It's just a plain white cup!

Bonus bonus:

(here's a bad doodle and my crappy handwriting)

(If you want to be added or removed please let me know!)

@charme-de-malchan, @theatreandcomicfreak, @m3owww, @elliebelliegirl, @genevieve-the-demonologist, @vixen-uchiha, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @waffleyunsure, @technicallyburninggarden, @azuremayscarlet, @vroomtaka, @emimar7, @ichigorose, @maskedpainter, @art-is-hard-to-do-sorry

[jovialyouthmusic]

Go Shorty!

(It's my birthday!)

In a kind of weird reverse universe, this is my gift to anyone who enjoys my Bastien Lykel fics, queued to be posted on my birthday. I've noted Fabricio's recent image change and it inspired the following - what would Bastien's family think if he shaved off his iconic goatee? Enjoy, its all fluff xx

Word Count 2035

Double Trouble

The last lecture of the week completed, Sophia was in her university office just putting her papers together when the faculty secretary put her head round the door.

‘Sophia, your home help has been in touch, she said it’s urgent’

‘Thanks Lizzy, I’ll be leaving soon anyway. It’s been a long week, I’m glad I’ve nothing on this afternoon.’ Sophia turned her mobile phone back on to see that Morag had left her a voice mail. She held the phone at arm’s length as she played back the sound of a harassed young woman and a squealing toddler in full meltdown.

‘Mrs Lykel, I’m sorry tae bother ye, but yer wee lassie’s upset, and her father cannae soothe her. Please call back when ye can. Or just come hame.’ Sophia frowned. It wasn’t like Bastien to fail to settle Beatrice. Little princess that she was, she was Daddy’s girl while Sophia was out at work through the week and welded to Sophia’s side at the weekend. She dialled the landline of their top floor regency apartment in the centre of Edinburgh that the University had allocated them. It was Bastien who answered, and all was quiet beyond his voice.

‘Sophia!’ he sounded flustered ‘Morag’s just got her to settle, did you get the message?’

‘It’s an odd time of day for a nap, is she running a temperature?’

‘Errm no, she’s hot, but she’s not ill. She’s just been crying...’

‘How do you know she’s not ill if she’s hot?’ Sophia demanded, making her way along the corridor to the car park to their SUV. Her mind span with possibilities.

‘I uh – you’ll understand when you get here, I can’t explain right now.’ Sophia decided not to stop off at the shops on the way, hoping Morag could go and get what was needed before she clocked off for the weekend. She wished she’d had the foresight to order a supermarket delivery, but she preferred to shop herself. With or without the children, she loved browsing the aisles of Waitrose when it wasn’t busy. Bastien was a surprisingly poor shopper and stuck religiously to the list, whereas she’d discover little treats and bargains that wouldn’t stretch her salary. Living in the city was expensive, although not nearly as much as if they’d moved to London, and having Morag to help was a slight strain on resources. Setting up Bastien’s security consultancy was taking longer than expected thanks to the complexity of looking after twins, and the retainer from King Liam in Cordonia was only just enough for small luxuries.

As soon as she opened the door to the apartment, Morag was there pulling her coat on and shouldering her bag.

‘Morag, I was hoping you’d be able to get some supp…’ Sophia started, but she was already pushing past her to the landing outside.

‘Ah’ll be back the Monday.’ she said shortly, and Sophia was left peering over the banister to the stairwell after her rapidly retreating figure, wondering what had happened. She turned back inside to meet Bastien holding Theo.

‘Mama.’ he crowed in jubilant greeting. Bastien stepped out of the shadowed hall, and all became clear.

‘Bas, you shaved!’ she gasped. She’d never seen her husband without facial hair in the few years she’d known him. He still had a neat ‘tache, but his trimmed goatee was gone, his chin and jawline bare. He looked sheepish, and she knew she shouldn’t have teased him about the streak of white in his beard. He handed over Theo, who pointed at Bastien.

‘Dada face.’ he proclaimed.

‘Yes, I thought perhaps…’ his voice trailed off ‘Well, that is, I mean...’

‘Beatrice didn’t like it, did she? Honestly Bas, you should have thought – why didn’t you say something?’ He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

‘I thought perhaps a younger image might drum up some more business.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, age means experience, people are more likely to trust a distinguished looking gent.’ she scoffed. He sighed in exasperation.

‘Well the damage is done. Beatrice took one look at me and bawled her eyes out. Morag tried to calm her down, but every time she saw me again she’d set off crying.’

‘Well no wonder, you look completely different. How about Theo?’ she asked.

‘You know him – a bomb would go off and he wouldn’t flinch.’ In response Theo wriggled to get down, bored at the adult conversation. He toddled off to the toybox in the lounge to rummage for his current favourite, a shape sorting puzzle.

‘Well, I’d better go and take a look at her.’ Sophia sighed. ‘If she’s been crying all morning she’ll probably not wake up for a while.’ She feared that the disruption to her sleep schedule meant they’d be in for a rocky night at the very least, if not a couple of days. She opened the door to their bedroom a crack but could see little, as the curtains were drawn tight. Normally they let a little light in for daytime naps so the children would know night from day. She crept in and let her eyes adjust to the gloom. Beatrice lay on her back in her day clothes, one arm flung back over her head and her other thumb in her mouth. That wasn’t a good sign – she’d not used that form of self soothing for a couple of months. Her hair was damp and face flushed, but her breathing was steady and peaceful.

Sophia carefully held her palm over her forehead, feeling the slight heat coming off it. Bastien joined her, gazing down at the toddler, but she motioned him out of the room and followed quietly.

‘Well, she’s okay for now. I’d better be here for when she wakes up, so you can go shopping for the weekend.’ Bastien’s face dropped.

‘On a Friday? The traffic’s mayhem – can’t we order in?’

‘I couldn’t stop on the way back, and there won’t be any free delivery slots until at least Monday, you know that.’ She sighed. ‘If you take Theo with you it’ll be easier for when Bea wakes up, and you can play the ‘Dad doing the chores’ role, that’ll get you to the front of the checkout queue. Give him a banana, that will keep him happy.’

‘Narners?’ Theo called from the lounge, and came toddling to find Sophia, clinging to her leg and pulling at her clothes.

‘Lunch first, Theo, then Daddy will take you shopping. Won’t that be lovely? All boys together.’

‘Sopping’ Theo cried happily, then looked over at Bastien. ‘Mummy sopping?’ he asked hopefully. He knew Sophia was more likely to treat him than his father, although he did like pointing out the things Daddy couldn’t find. Perhaps he’d treat him more without his sister there to steal the limelight.

‘No darling, Mummy has to look after Bea.’

‘Bee cwy. Dada face.’

‘Yes, silly Daddy took his beard off. He’s funny isn’t he?’

‘Dada silly!’ Theo cried triumphantly and pointed at him. Bastien scowled.

‘Yes well okay, let’s all laugh at Daddy.’ he grumbled as Sophia picked Theo up and balanced him on her hip.

‘Well it’s better than crying’ she said acidly. ‘Now, do you want to make lunch, or shall I?’

-------

Lunchtime was much simpler than normal with just Theo to feed. The couple could eat their own food while the toddler busied himself with cheese sandwiches made with wholemeal bread. He left the crusts, but Sophia had discovered it pointless cutting them off, as he left some bread around the edge just as if the crust were still there. She often saved them to feed the ducks at the park with the twins. Bastien had literally just closed the door to take Theo out to the supermarket when she heard Beatrice stirring. She went into her quickly, to find her standing at the bars to the cot, hair curling round her face and cheeks blotchy.

‘Mummy.’ Her voice was croaky and she looked miserable. ‘Dada face!’ she told her. She stretched her arms up and Sophia scooped her up as she rubbed her eyes sleepily. Perhaps she’d think it was a dream.

‘Well hello my little Bea, you’ve had a difficult morning. Are you hungry?’ She nodded sleepily.

‘Sippy sippy, Mummy.’ The little girl was obviously thirsty too.

‘Of course darling, you can have juice. Do you want sandwiches?’

‘Widges, Mummy.’ She looked across to Theo’s cot. ‘Where Feeo?’ Sophia sucked in her breath. It was very rare that the children were separated and she braced herself for trouble.

‘He’s gone out to the shops to get more narners, darling.’ The little girl clung on to her and rested her head on her chest, seemingly pleased to have Sophia to herself. She carried her through to the kitchen and filled her sippy cup with juice. Gratefully Bea grabbed at it and drank greedily, eyes rolling back in bliss.

‘All gone’ she shook it upside down, sprinkling the last dregs on the floor. Luckily the sandwiches were ready from earlier so Sophia put them on the tray of the high chair. Bea shook her head and clung on tight as she tried to put her down.

‘Okay darling, you can sit on my knee this time’ she said gently, and sat at the table, the little girl firmly nestled on her lap. She reached out to take a sandwich and squeezed it in her fist before stuffing half of it in her mouth, crumbs falling everywhere. She was hungry, and Sophia wondered if she’d had anything to eat before her father’s transformation. She waited until she’d slowed down.

‘Morag told me you were upset this morning.’ she said gently. The little girl took a shuddering breath.

‘Dada face bad.’ she said, putting her hand to her chin. Sophia stepped in before the cycle of crying could restart.

‘I know, Bea. He shaved his beard off. He looks funny now, doesn’t he? Theo was laughing at Daddy.’ Beatrice burrowed into her side again, hiding her face. ‘It’s okay darling, he just looks different. He still loves you – and me, and Theo. Silly Daddy, he’ll grow it back.’

‘Where Daddy?’ she asked, voice muffled.

‘He took Theo out to get more narners.’

‘Sopping?’ Beatrice relaxed and looked up at her enquiringly.

‘That’s right. Is there anything you want from the shops? I can call Daddy on his phone and tell him.’ The tot looked thoughtful.

‘Ice kweem?’

‘Okay, if Daddy brings you ice cream will you give him a kiss? His face is all smooth now, like Mummy’s.’ Beatrice giggled at the thought.

‘Like Mummy!’ she exclaimed. ‘Daddymummy!’

‘You can talk to him on the phone if you like, tell him what you want.’ Sophia got out her phone and texted Bastien.

Call when you can, Bea wants to ask you for ice cream

It was a few minutes before her phone rang, during which time she had changed the little girl’s nappy and was dressing her in clean clothes.

‘Oh that will be Daddy, just wait a minute darling.’ Beatrice opened and closed her hands, demanding it for herself, but Sophia put it on speakerphone.

‘Beatrice is here, Bas. She wants to ask you something.’

‘Daddymummy!’ Beatrice burbled. ‘Ice kweem, Daddy.’

‘Come on now, say please.’ Sophia prompted. Beatrice put on her cutest expression, unaware that her father couldn’t see it.

‘Pweese Daddy, stawby.’

‘Okay Bea, I’ll get strawberry ice cream. I love you, my little Bea. I’m sorry I scared you.’

‘Silly Daddy. Kisses!’ There was a short pause before Bastien obliged, blowing kisses to his daughter. Sophia tried not to laugh, wondering where he was and who could see him.

‘Okay now Bea, Daddy has to get the rest of the shopping. He’ll be back soon.’

‘Bye Daddy.’

‘Bye, my sweeting. Be good for Mummy.’ Beatrice slid off Sophia’s lap and went off to the toybox, obviously happy with life, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

‘If it’s any help, I told her your face is like Mummy’s now, so be prepared to be called Daddymummy until she’s forgotten. You’d better grow that beard back fast, mister.’ she said in a low tone. 'and be prepared for a rough bedtime, she'll be full of beans after that nap.'

@sirbeepsalot @katedrakeohd @fluffyfirewhiskey @bascmve01 @rainbowsinthestorm @nomadics-stuff @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30​ @stopforamoment

[ghostoftheyear]

I was thinking about how my art has evolved over the last year, after feeling like it was stale for a long time, and how grateful I am that I found something to give me tons of inspiration. (This was also inspired by a conversation with theskee, who was saying that they've seen my art improve a lot just in the time we've known each other, which is an incredibly kind compliment.)

Before I got into DMMd, I did maybe ten drawings in the first half of 2021, and they mostly felt uninteresting and bland, lackluster. I wasn't really in a place where I was capable of finishing things; I didn't put much effort into what I did draw, so it's hardly surprising that I'd feel bored and unhappy with what I drew fairly quickly.

I played DMMd in April of 2021 and it's a testament to the game that I was drawn in so quickly; I didn't even follow a guide at first, and I still got the Koujaku good end first thing. It hooked me so hard.

My first sketch of Koujaku was done in May and I was pleased with it, as rough as it was. I was looking up references, saving screencaps from the game. I played through the whole thing and couldn't get enough. Found the anime, zoomed through that. Started writing "Blue". Kept drawing. A lot. Lots of Koujaku/Aoba. Lots of the others, too.

Also did a bunch of art in May and then beyond, and it probably was a coincidence -- I finally started experimenting more with the iPad and using different brushes/pencils to color and line art. I finished a Ren/Tokiya drawing I'd been flailing at for months, did another of Tokiya, finished one of Lighteyes that I was beyond pleased with. Finishing things. That also coincided with my playing of lots of Fire Emblem: Three Houses, and I did a bunch of character sketches in the name of practice there.

It might have been the confluence of several factors, but it's felt so good to be drawing regularly again. And because I've been drawing so much, my art has gone through significant improvement over the past year, when I thought I'd never get any better than I had.

Like, here's Ai from January 2021, and then again from February 2022.

I can still see lots of areas that need improving, and it's not like the art from 2021 was awful, but I'm happy to see the evolution.

More and more, I can finally put down on paper the things I visualize in my head, and have them be closer and closer to how I saw them.

I like my style more, too. It's still evolving just like everything else, but most importantly, I don't hate what I see. I still have a lot of unfinished pieces that stall out, and days where I just can't stand what I put down on "paper". But it's all getting better, and maybe it's ironic that it's all thanks to a BL visual novel that I came to seven or eight years late. I don't care. Inspiration comes from the strangest places.

(Also, I just counted and I ended up with 97 pieces in the 2022 folder. Not all of them finished, but most of them nearly so. Holy shit, man. That's 87 drawings done between May and December. No wonder I've improved.)