#also SURPRISE!!! my last art post was actually just a PART OF THIS SKETCH PAGE ALL ALONGGG

[biblically-accurate-dca]

au where moon fills in while sun is "on vacation" and nothing bad happens

[mirukimary]

My Art Summary for 2022!

(Under the cut I'll go into more details for each month, for memory's sake. Warning: It's LONG.)

Come one, come all for your opportunity to see all of the drawings I should have posted but never did! The ones that make me work harder every december to remember when tf i drew what! The ones that, in missing, make it seem like i only draw once a year--! (going through my twitter media tab is depressing LMAO)

JANUARY

[Pictured: Iola in Prenda clothing. There was a Twitter Post going around asking you to draw your WoL in your country's traditional clothes. Ofc I didn't skip the opportunity to do it! And drew my BF's WoL too for good measure. Still my fav drawing of the year!]

Also worked on a VTuber model for a friend (i drew it as a bust january last year; then this year was asked to expand it to full body). It was very challenging, but also fun!

For the rest, I designed some backstory NPCs for Asera (Daimyorus childhood friend, his goddess and a mage that helped us multiple times); and drew some twitch emotes for a client. Was a fresh, fun start. I remember having a lot of fun and finding that month quite relaxing.

(Goddess Rondra, Mage Rupin & elf-friend Pedro (RIP))

FEBRUARY

[Pictured: My friend's bunny boi~]

Further work was done on the VTuber model, a lot of parts that weren't quite working before were redrawn. He was taking form!! Now that most of the work was done, also did a ref sheet to go with it. I couldn't wait to see him moving!

That's when I started preparing to open commissions for realz, trying to think of prices and set up examples. I drew some BGs and the Complexity Guide, and set most of the boring things up. I plan to open comms either Jan 2023 or February 2023, so let's hope all the work paid off~

MARCH

[Pictured: 'Smile at the Blue Skies', or "Fuq i need a bust sketch ref for my commission examples page". Sounds a bit less dreamy now, huh? LMAO]

But yeah, most of the month was dedicated to the VTuber model, working to fix it as the rigger found issues. Ref Sheet was finished this month. I'll stop mentioning the model, but the back and forth lasted till june or so?? Had to fix all of his toggles; and redraw his entire hair to allow for a better 3D effect when moving (it went from 3~6 layers to over 20). This was my first time working on vtuber models, so there was A LOT to learn. It surprising how many pitfalls there is in vtuber making. I'm very proud of how it turned out, and eternally grateful to the rigger (and to my friend) for being so patient with me. I was sent a small demo of what he looks like, and seeing your drawing move so beautifully like that feels magical!! There's still much to design and draw before he can debut, but hope you can support him then!

Oh yeah, there was this attempt too:

APRIL

[Pictured: 'With Friends' the commission I worked on through March and April. Extra special because that's my friend & his pets there!]

Also sketched some ideas for illustrations of our RP characters (hi Irene), but never really completed them:

It feels so long since I made these... Double checked like 3 times to make sure it wasn't April 2021 LMAO

I REALLY want to revisit some of these now.

MAY

[Pictured: #XIVARTBASH drawing, featuring Nero.]

Also drew the catgirl from Love2DrawManga. Didn't do much this month (...or did but forgot). I believe I worked on some BGs I can't show, but these are still very much stuck at WIP :(

JUNE

[Pictured: Nia's WoL, Mat. Just a smol gift for someone that brings a lot of joy to FFXIV Twitter.]

So... I completelly forgot I was drawing my OCs outfits [facepalm]:

(Don't mind the two in the corner, I don't want my essay to get hit with Tumblr hammer LMAO They're nowhere near done). But yeah, these are my OCs from 'Elder''. I've had them since childhood, and still love them, even if I gave up on the book idea. Will make an actual post once all is done and I can go back to their character illusts uwu

JULY

[Pictured: Cade from 'Still Shining'. Working on this was an amazing experience~ Won't go on detail bc I already did, but still glad for the experience!]

Instead I'll talk about... Art Fight month!!!

SO.MUCH.FUN

I'm 100% going back next year! This event just proved how much I love drawing people's OCs. I really want to be a commission artist so I can do that for a living. Sadly I didn't get to draw everyone I wanted, plus I wasted a lot of time trying to look through OCs while the website was dying LMAO Next year I'll come prepared!

Also I drew that Spring picture to use as a reference in her profile there. I missed drawing her!

AUGUST

[Pictured: Commission for 'Under Maintenance'.]

Mostly worked on commemorative stuff. Anniversary chibi for Brie; that Under Maintenance pic; Thank You for DL message for 'Loving You Fully' and 'Still Shining'. Also designed some outfits (and painted some sprites) for Mythic Meetup: Midnight Mystery (not released yet!).

Started a bday gift for my boyfriend, but something kept looking 'off' about it so I didn't finish in time. Turns out it was overblended... And will require a redraw. Sorry boyfriend TT But my wife (tm) needs to look perfect!!

Also made the design for our new RP characters:

(mine is the not-cat girl, obviously)

...And I belive this is when I made that cursed Yshtola feeding Zero picture? Yeah.

SEPTEMBER

[Pictured: Witch Torunn]

Made the YCH bases, as well as 3 examples. I have no memories of this month, but Windows says this sketch is from september:

OCTOBER

[Pictured: Old OC redraw, for my Commission Guide. Decided to do it after a client asked for clarification if an old drawing was halfbody or fullbody (august last year, Torunn sitting down).]

They're really old OCs of mine. Ever RP-ed in Deviantart groups? I did!!

Cecilia (<-) is pretty much a Iola prototype: salve maker and potion seller who lives with her dad (who taught her the craft). One day he collapses during work, and Cecilia ends up overworking herself to afford his medicine and other living expenses. In desperation, she joins The Guild as a novice magician for money, and gets herself involved on a war she never intended to join.

Celticca (->) is a archer and aspiring musician who wants to make the most beautiful song (tm) for her family. She's very sweet, but naïve and scatterbrained. I didn't have much planned for her, but had a lot of fun seeing her constantly get involved with Evil/Neutral alligned characters w/o noticing LOL

....Now that I think about it, she's literally a FFXIV bard, before I knew anything about XIV.

The rest of October was focused on Magni's Birthday Project and my YCH Halloween Commissions.

...And THIS:

Halloween pictures of our current RP characters \O/ To go with our halloween session~ Also drew these two for our halloween one-shot:

Ellie (<-) and Hadrianus (->). Ellie is a yandere witch I made as a joke and fell in love with. Hadrianus is my BF's wizard. Yes, he looks like Dr. Strange. Yes, that's the joke. The 3rd character was Rosemary, but I didn't ask to draw her so she's missing :( I do want to draw all of them at some point. We accidentally made "Spy x Family, but it's horror and Loid wants to run away" LOOOL I love this trio!!

Made 2 adoptables, but since they went unsold I decided to remove them and redraw for next year:

(The neutral pose doesn't help them stand out ^^;; Sorry bbys)

Also sketched Julio from Atelier Sophie~

(Hoping to finish it early next year. He's not the only idea I had while playing, but other stuff took priority"")

October was so much fun!! Sadly it let me completely drained by the end of it. I got hit with such a HUGE art block it was like my hands just... Forgot how to draw. Everything came out weird. Sadly, that resulted on me having to drop a drawing I was making for Brie :/ Hoping I can pick it back up soon... (better late than never right?)

It's around that time I decided to work on an AI redraw. Used Crayon (old Dall-e Mini) to create some monstrosity for me and tried to turn it into an actual drawing.

The monstrosity:

The Work In Porgress:

This drawing is a bit painful to look at, because of all the self doubt and bad feelings attached to it. But I want to finish it someday. My prompt was something stupid like 'cute anime girl having fun'. I want to remain true to the prompt and make her meeting with lil ladybug feel warm and fun!

...Like of the feelings I was missing back then, and am just now starting to get back.

TL;DR: Take breaks or you'll break.

NOVEMBER

[Pictured: Chibi Adra for Kyou.]

Managing burnout through most of it. Eventually just decided to stop fighting and played games instead. Even with the frame drops, Atelier Ryza is pretty fun~ Hoping to go bk to it soon.

At some point my boyfriend said I should just draw things to have fun for a bit. I followed his advice...

DECEMBER

[Pictured: Art Party (DracoLunari's WoL)]

...By drawing Iola as a sheep herder. It was much more fun than it sounds. I didn't care for polish at all, just seeing Iola in a cute outfit LMAO It's... A mess of a drawing. But it's MY mess of a drawing. I feel this thought calmed my mind a lot.

Also went for my first ever Art Party. It was fun, tho brain did get in the way after a bit, as expected ^^;;; Still want to go to these more often!! It's fun to draw & chat with others.

For random drawings, all I have is a(n embarrassing) fanart of Elf from Isekai Ojisan. I'll post eventually..... (that anime is hilarious)

For now I have a commission and a collab to take care of, and a certain Moon Goddess to draw as soon as possible~ Will be doing my best these next few days, and hope Iola can be my sheperd and guide me to the path of 'having lots of fun drawing again'.

ONWARDS TO 2023...

May my year be filled with bad drawings that I love;

And good drawings I'm proud of.

May your year give you the same

And everything else you wish for!

Thanks @/Taxkha on twitter for the Template!

[arcticmoonvt]

Please read on Ao3 but I'll also post part it below the cut TW: gore and k*lling

That evening, when my whole world flipped, the setting sun seemed to call me to paint it. The sky felt like a moment one would usually call " picture-perfect," at the time, I would have also referred to it as such. But now I know it was just a hollow background for something greater, something my mind would never dare to conjure up on its own. I went on to capture the view as a simple warm-up before shifting my focus to other projects I had kept putting off due to a wall I had seemed to hit in my creative process. The sketch was completed rather quickly; the skyline out of my atelier, though the sky is ever-changing, is one I've sketched a hundred times. So, each stroke of my pencil was familiar and easy to speed through. Satisfied with the rough outline, I began to paint, realizing all too late that I havent enough red to finish. A mistake, though a simple one, is odd as I am one who does not make mistakes when it comes to art. Looking back, this may have been destiny pushing me towards something grander.

Though this was a warm-up, I could not have an unfinished painting as the night's first work. It would set a sour tone for the rest of the night. I quickly shoved my things into a satchel and headed out as clouds began to loom above. Though the skies now spoke of rain, the Store was not far, and I was sure I would return before it started raining. Another mistake, this one less surprising as I am an artist, not a meteorologist and cannot predict the weather, so as I finished purchasing the paints and a few other things I knew I was running low on, it began to drizzle. Though the Store was already close to home, I knew that if I took the back roads and alleys, I could arrive home much faster, and there would be less risk of myself and the supplies I just bought getting soaked. I set out, trying to move quickly through the side streets. Keeping in mind that though this way was faster, it also had its downsides. The side streets are filled with trash and trash-like people who like to lurk in the shadows and pounce on easy targets. It was then when I turned a corner while running, I heard a scream ring out, and I could see a woman in the distance running from something, or rather someone. Flashes of front pages of the last few editions of the paper flew through my mind of "a series of women found dead in gruesome killings," all done by whom they named "Jack The Ripper.". Try as I might, I couldn't recall if they ever managed to catch him because I did not actually read the paper; I had mainly used them to cover the floor when painting. While cursing at myself for my lack of interest in the rest of the world, panic began to sink in as I could now see the woman and the large figure behind her; if I didn't do something soon, I would've gotten caught. I dove behind the trash cans that littered the sides of the alley and backed myself into the shadows. I don't think of myself as someone without a conscience or that I am overly cruel; however, helping this woman was out of the question. What would I have even been able to do for her other than get myself killed in her place? I wouldn't do that for my own mother, let alone a stranger.

[iced-souls]

Oh yeah so I am just gonna talk about it now because *cough* it’s probably gonna take a lil while longer to finish cause of schul *cough* so I shall now update you all on

MY PLANS—

SO this is both for myself and if y’all wanna know what I shall be doin or somethin—

Ok so—

Obviously, as I’ve said before, I’m gonna finish this next update for left behind, in which I have almost finished the line art for it, and then hopefully if I don’t give up on doin which I might do cause meh—, I’ll finish the ut dr anniversary drawing. WHICH I MADE THE SKETCH FOR IT on the day but ran out of time…. It’s also not the beeeest but if I do give up on it then I’ll just post the sketch with the next school doods post probably—.

But anyways, after that I am planning on trying to post less/draw less/ focus more on school stuff for a while, at least until I get the hang of things….. which I do not know how long that will take—.

Mainly decided this cause I’m getting distracted and I stress out a lot when I have to many things to do/ want to do, so I’m cutting off a bit for my brains sake.

However I DO also have plans for if I ever get free time and want to do some stuff.

Lemme find my notes—

Ok so 1st thing which I can do in any free time, also possibly if I go to this 1 club in my school that happened last year(art club) so I can get a specific time to do drawing stuff hehehe, is make some more oc references, which I’ll probably add onto artfight for next year. There’s only a couple I REALLY have been wanting to do for a while now, which I have in my notes—.

So that’s: that one Skeleguy, lollipop guy, pineapple baller guy (edit: also jimjam). And then some other guys I might do are: Dust! Undyne, Sun angel + lightning rainbow guy, minecraft sona stone golem guy, aaaaaand underscrungle guys.

Speaking of underscrungle, I’ll probably figure out some more roles for that, I’ll probs just right it down sometime—.

Ight ok, 2nd thing iiiiiiiis…… OH YEAH, also have mentioned before, but I might also work on another rottmnt x my ocs compilation. I have 2 clips in my head currently and there’s bound to be more. When will I work on this? I have an animation club starting up at my school so imma work on it 1 day of the week during that time. So probably will take a while to finish—.

Tttthhhheennnnnnnnnnnn……..OH ok so I will be working on setting up left behind and void gang. As in writing up what each update will be if that makes sense.

Cause for left behind. I have the basis written up, aswell as some lil short stories that’ll happen, but that’s it really. So the ending is finished really but I’m gonna layout the mini episodes that are taking place in chapter 1 and chapter 2. Actually cause I find it kinda funny let me show you the papers I have for the left behind writing—.

So as you can tell I am CLEARLY a very organized person— honestly half of this is all of chapter 3. I have to run through it all to find where my comic lore is currently at tho lol—

Worst part about that is that is that I go through—

—THESE OLD FRICKIN DRAWINGS OH MY GOSH—. THEY MAKE ME CRINGE EVERY TIME I LOOK AT THEM OOOUUUGHHH—

ANYWAYS—

Void gang I’m just gonna set it up but I’m trying not to get toooo detailed in that cause I want it to be more of a surprise…… if you can even call it that tho—.

Anyways, so that about it. There also probably won’t be AS many school dood drawings for the same reasons, but I’ll get like… 1 page at least done?

But yeah. OH ALSO I’ve had some character challenge thingies in my draft box for a while now that I’ll also probably get more time to do—. So yeah.

May/ probably will pop up every now and then in the meantime. So If I DO get any asks I’ll probably be able to answer them cause I can usually finish answerin them quick—. All of these plans probably look like I’m not ACTUALLY taking a chill period but in relation to what I planned on doing, it is. Uuuuuuuhhhhh anything else? …… OH yeah I am still gonna post undertale September stuff. Uuuuuuhmmmm.. so yeah.

Really, a summary for all of this is instead of trying to split drawing with school work like a 50 50 thing, I will be more focused on school and drawing will only happen at certain and random times when I am free—.

Sooooooo yeah. BUT THAT WILL START ONCE IM DONE THIS NEXT LEFT BEHIND PAGE. I have also just planned out today of how the next update will go so that’ll be the first thing to right down—

ANYWAYS IM I THINK IM DRAGGING THIS ON LONGER THAN IT NEEDS TO BE SO I SHALL SAY BUH BYE AND HAVE A GOOD DAY ALRIGHT SEE YA—

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 12/3/2021

I did not finish the fanfic. I have one and a half scenes left.

What happened was this: I had a pretty rough, emotional week generally (I had a family funeral to go to and it was just a lot of feelings floating around on many fronts). I was working pretty diligently, if inefficiently on the fic, up until the point that I had one scene left to do. I went to pick up my kid from school, and on the way home, in the car, it occurred to me that I really needed one more scene, not because I wanted it, but just for... closure...purposes. I have described this dumb things as Xeno’s fanfic multiple times, because no matter how much I work on it, the end it still out of reach. In any case, I was one scene from done, and now I was two, and my brain just said “go to Hell, polynya” and all of the motivation just dropped straight out of my body. So, I worked on my Christmas lights today instead of writing anything.

SIGH. Hopefully, I will finish it up this weekend, and surely next week if not. It still has to go to my beta after that before I can post it (she’s read everything except the last chapter, but I need her reassurance that I haven’t accidentally left some dangling plot thread that I need to go back and finish in Ch 3 or something).

So, anyway. SOON. In the meantime, if you need to catch up on/re-read your favorite bits of Heart is Muscle, now might be a good time? It’s not required reading, but...why not?

Also, did you see the bee-yoo-ti-ful coloring job @iz-star did on my sketch? It’s actually secretly part of a spoilery illustration for the fic (unfortunately, it’s for near the very end, so it will be a while)

I will stop doing excerpts once I’m posting the fic in earnest (I am planning to do one chapter per week unless someone convinces me otherwise), so hopefully this bit from Chapter 7, in which Ginrei invites Renji to a Kuchiki family dinner party and everyone has to deal with it, will be the last one. 

“I just wish you had given me a little notice, it’s common courtesy,” Fifth Seat Kuchiki Takehiko griped for the fourth time as he, Renji and Choei made their way up the winding front walk of Kuchiki Manor.

“I’m telling you, I only got invited an hour ago!” Renji protested.

“And if you had told me then, I probably would have had time to send a message to my Honored Mother. She’s going to be furious.”

“Captain says she’s a big fan of mine.”

Takehiko made a long-suffering eyeroll. Renji wasn’t sure if it was directed at him, or Lady Azami, or possibly even Byakuya. “Whether my mother likes someone or dislikes them is immaterial. She simply wishes the events of the world to proceed in a manner that she believes to be correct. There is no room in her philosophy for surprise dinner guests.”

“I just want to know why we had to be so early,” Choei grumbled.

“Captain said to be here by six!” Renji protested. “It’s five of, we’re perfectly on time!”

“Surely, he said come at six,” Takehiko correctly, “which usually means to arrive in the vicinity of and certainly no earlier than six. If you are Choei, it means ‘roll in at eight, just in time for dessert.’”

“You don’t like getting lectured by your mom, I don’t like getting lectured by my mom. We are on the same page here, we just have different methods,” Choei sniffed.

Renji wondered what it would be like to have cousins. It seemed kinda fun.

“At least you look respectable for once. Was that your doing, Vice Captain? Well done, if so.” Takehiko gave Renji a brief once-over. “You don’t look half-bad yourself. Might go a little lighter on the eye make-up next time, but that’s a handsome kimono.”

“Thank you, Kuchiki,” Renji puffed out his chest, and made a mental note to thank Rukia for insisting that he buy two nice kimono. This one was a dark bluish-grey, dyed in some clever way to leave a pattern of lighter vertical wavy lines. Rukia said they were steam clouds, meant to symbolize rising above one’s circumstances. Renji was just glad it didn’t have carp on it, like three others she tried to put him in. 

“Wait a second!” Choei exclaimed. “Is that why you showed up at my place and asked me a bunch of questions about obi knots? That was a distraction?! I was gonna gel up a pompadour and you made me forget!”

“I am just a simple man who goes to very few dinner parties,” Renji replied innocently. “Speaking of obi, I kicked that hideous orange one you were gonna wear under your couch, in case you’re looking for it later.”

“Betrayal!” Choei wailed. “Treachery!” 

“I hope you now see the problem with arriving early,” Takehiko gave Renji a steely look. “We’re forced to admit that we brought him.”

[gukyi]

tattoos together | kth

summary: you aren’t necessarily terribly particular when it comes to tattoos, and when you arrive at your favorite tattoo parlor one day in search of a new addition, one in particular catches your eye, but more importantly, so does the artist behind its creation. and slowly, you come to realize that art does not need sentimental value to be meaningful—it just needs to be loved.

{tattoo artist!au}

pairing: kim taehyung x female reader genre: fluff word count: 5k warnings: mention of tattoo needles a/n: a huge huge huge thank you to @guksflavor for commissioning me for this piece, and thank you for contributing to the blm movement !!!! for anyone wondering--this was commissioned prior to my drabble commissions post, which is why it’s longer. hope that you enjoy!!!! 

When you go to a new city, your favorite thing to do is explore. 

Unpacking has never really been your forte, because it takes forever and it’s not as if any of the packages contain a surprise. You already know what’s in every single cardboard box strewn around your apartment, from the old clothes you never wear to the single set of nice dinnerware that you never use because you don’t ever have guests fancy enough to require usage of them. 

The beauty of the world is that it has so many hidden corners. So many hole-in-the-wall stores and secret alleyways shielded from street lights. Secrets unknown to even some of the locals. 

So yes, the boxes against the barren walls of your apartment can wait. 

They have been for the past couple of years, at least. What’s one more day?

Besides, if you hadn’t prioritized exploring over unpacking, you never would have found that little tattoo shop on the corner of South and Brooks, the one that looks more like a cottage-turned-overgrown-flower shop than a place where you go to get permanently inked. The walls are a pastel neutral shade, accented by exposed brick near the back and lined with drawings after drawings, new designs tacked over old ones, pages curling in on themselves after years of being hung up. 

From the inside or the outside, it doesn’t at all read like a stereotypical tattoo parlor. No black walls, no leather, no gothic lettering on the door. 

And that’s really the beauty of it all. That you would never know of this place if you hadn’t gone wandering, hadn’t decided that your unpacking of boxes could wait another couple of days (and maybe months, too). That there are secrets blanketing the city, and that you can learn them all, if only you keep your eyes peeled. 

Also, the tattoo parlor is right next to what you happily designate as the best bakery in the entire town, but that’s just a bonus. 

Still, Jungkook doesn’t ever seem to mind when you show up to a session with two coffees and a bag with two muffins inside of it. 

The bell above the door rings when you open it, stepping onto the beige welcome mat onto the tile. It’s been raining the past couple of days, and you can make out damp spots on the fabric where people have wiped their shoes. It’s busier than normal, today, several of the artists fielding requests and questions from eager clients, pointing at the designs on the wall or handing them their own sketches. 

But as always, Jungkook is free, loitering in the back corner with his hands tucked into the pockets of the dark jeans he’s wearing, as if he’d been expecting you all afternoon. 

Considering you are pretty much confidants after so many years of seeing him, you suppose that he’s picked up on your predictability—if only just a little. 

“What, don’t you have a job to be doing?” You ask instead of a hello, catching Jungkook’s attention immediately as you walk in, a bag of two scones in your hand. 

“Don’t have a job if you’re not here,” he quips back, strolling over casually and happily taking the napkin-wrapped baked good from your hand. He eats approximately half of it in a single bite as you settle down by his station, a vintage vanity that Jungkook says that the owner found at a thrift store. It’s awfully beat up as is, but looks more at home inside here, little succulents sitting, pressed up against the wall, and ink stains covering the countertop. 

“Touché,” you concede with a nod. 

“What are you here for today?” Jungkook asks over a mouthful of scone. “You got an actual design in mind or just want me to wing it?” 

“Am I not allowed to just say hello to one of my favorite people in the city?” You tease. 

Jungkook frowns. “‘One of’? Who else is there?” 

“Me, of course,” you tell him happily. “You got any new designs I can take a peek at?”

“See for yourself,” Jungkook says, motioning to the wall beside him as you giddily skirt over to take a look. You’re in here so often that Jungkook’s long foregone showing you which ones were recently added—deigning to sit at his table while you pick out the new ones from the old, which sketches weren’t tacked to the wall the last time you were in. 

There’s a couple of ones that you don’t recognize taped along the wall, or peeking out of the open binders that they have spread out on spare shelves and countertops, new designs of birds and flowers and snakes. But the one that really catches your eye is a small one, drawn on a piece of paper the size of a Post-it note. You almost miss it, half-hidden behind a much bigger sketch of an old grandfather clock, lines dark and heavy. It’s a simple line drawing, really, of the sun rising or setting along the horizon, its reflection shakily echoed in the water it stands above. It could almost be straight out of a scrapbook, a Polaroid of a real moment in time, a real sight someone saw. 

“This one’s new,” you say, fingers reaching up to page at the edges. 

Jungkook gets up to see what all of the fuss is about. “Oh, yeah, just added yesterday. You like it?”

“It’s pretty,” you say, unable to tear your eyes away from it. It’s so simple, so modest. Like a doodle that someone would draw in the margins of a textbook, like the start of a flipbook design in an old library book. “Looks almost like it was printed from offline.”

“You know everything in here is usually hand-drawn,” Jungkook chides. 

“Reminds me of a photograph,” you say as Jungkook reaches out with his hands to take the design down. “You know, like some really picturesque scene on a beach. With the sun reflected against the water.”

“Can’t tell if it’s rising or setting,” Jungkook comments, holding it out in front of him. 

“I think that’s the point.”

“So, where do you want it?” Jungkook asks. “And don’t say the bottom of your foot. I know you’re joking.”

You laugh, reminded of the time you had teasingly told him that you wanted a flock of birds tattooed beneath your feet, and he almost believed you before you burst into a fit of giggles. Pausing, you think. Where would you want something like that? Not your back, surely. To you, the whole point of a tattoo is to be able to see it. And not on your torso, either. You’ve grown rather accustomed to the feeling of a needle on skin, so the pain isn’t the issue, but a drawing like that isn’t meant to be kept secret. Not supposed to be hidden by your clothes. 

You can’t say that you’ve ever kept tattoos particularly serious, plotting out exactly what you’ll get inked and which part of your body will make it the most meaningful. Tattoos are but another art form, one that uses the skin as its canvas, and not all art is supposed to be perfect and purposeful and mean something. Art is in the eye of the beholder. It is, above all, supposed to make you happy. 

You love every single thing that Jungkook has drawn on your skin, and every single thing that was drawn before you met him. But this one is special. 

“Here,” you say, pulling up the sleeve of your shirt so it rests on your shoulders, tapping the empty space on your upper left arm. It’s surrounded with tattoos, with flowers and words and pictures, but there has always been an open space. One that you were saving for something extraordinary. 

“You sure? You know I can’t undo this as fast as I can do it,” Jungkook says, not to mock you but to make sure you aren’t making a mistake. 

Perhaps it’s your impulsive nature, the part of you that doesn’t really care about making mistakes so long as you can recognize that they happened, that makes you shrug. That isn’t terribly particular over where Jungkook places the needle. Tattoos are for fun. Taking everything serious is boring, anyway. 

“I’m sure,” you tell him, and Jungkook nods. He goes to transfer the design to a tattoo stencil as you wait, finishing up your scone. It’s a little harder now that you’ve waited a bit to eat it, not as soft as it was when Jungkook tore through his, but it’s delicious nonetheless. 

As you’re waiting, you hear the bell above the door ring. You turn around to look at the latest patron out of habit, that instinctual people-watching urge that bubbles up inside of you. 

You don’t recognize him. 

Which isn’t a first, per se, but you are in here rather often and have come to know most of the regulars, at least on a first-name basis. You wonder if he had just wandered in after strolling down the street, noticed the flowerpots hanging from the ceiling or the walls littered with designs or the cracking white paint that makes this place look like an old-timey ice cream store. His eyes, dark and brown and mysterious, go straight to the designs on the wall beside you, as if he knows exactly what he’s looking for. 

He looks down at you and the two of you meet eyes, his partially hidden by his caramel brown hair, yours looking up at him because it feels like you can’t turn away. There is something about him that makes you want to ask him to come here more often. Just so you can see him again. 

“Oh, Taehyung!” 

You turn back to see Jungkook returning with the design on a stencil, toothy smile widening when he sees the boy in question, a wave of familiarity rushing over his features. 

“Jungkook,” Taehyung says, and the two of them greet each other the way that all men do, with that unspoken hand grab-turned-back pat. “Was in this part of the city and thought I’d stop by. See how my favorite skin artist is doing.”

“Ugh,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes, “I hate when you call me that. It’s weird and makes me sound like I make art with skin.”

“Don’t you?” Taehyung poses teasingly, making Jungkook shove him playfully. 

“Shut up,” Jungkook responds, heading over to where you’re seated and placing the stencil down on the table. “Y/N here is getting one of your designs on her arm.”

That has you engaged. 

“You drew this?” You ask, picking the stencil back up and holding it out to him. 

Taehyung takes a couple of steps forward and reaches a hand out to look at the drawing in closer detail, before nodding. “Sketched it a couple of days ago. Jungkook said that it might make a nice tattoo.”

“Jungkook has terribly good judgement,” you agree. “I didn’t know you drew for Jungkook.”

“Eh, it’s not a job or anything,” Taehyung says with a shrug. “I like doodling things on the side. Jungkook being a tattoo artist is just a bonus.”

“I’ll say,” Jungkook says with a forced cough. “Y/N’s got a couple of your drawings actually, Tae. That one of the cherry blossoms, and the one with the teddy bear.”

“You did those, too?” You ask, getting more and more pleasantly surprised with every minute that passes. 

“You kidding?” Jungkook scoffs. “Taehyung’s art is all over this place. My boss is actually getting kind of annoyed with how much real estate his drawings take up, but clients seem to really like them, so they stay.”

“So you’re saying it’s not my infectious personality?” Taehyung quips, making you laugh. He and Jungkook seem to go well together. 

Jungkook sighs, a smile tugging loosely at his lips. “Get out of here, I’ve got a client,” he says fondly, motioning to you. 

“Kicking me out after five minutes? I think that’s a new record,” Taehyung says, peering at the old clock on the wall. 

“Don’t get used to it,” Jungkook says, even though it’s obvious that the both of them already are. Jungkook’s too kind, too sweet, too wonderful to ever turn away a friend. Even if he does have a client. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Taehyung says with a tip of an imaginary hat. His smile makes the blood rush to your cheeks, charming and for some reason, irresistible. “Hope that we see each other again soon. I’d love to see your tattoos.”

“I hope so too,” you say, positively enchanted, as he exits, the bell ringing on his way out. 

You wonder why you hadn’t met him before. You suppose that you just always missed each other. 

You sort of hope that, after this, you never do.

You run into Taehyung a couple of days afterwards in the bakery next door to the tattoo parlor. You’re standing by the coffee counter, chatting to one of the baristas who always teases you for buying two of everything whenever you’re there, when you spot him wandering in, the same curious look on his face. He doesn’t notice you at first but you see him straight away, recognize him instantly. It looks like he just accidentally stumbled upon this place, like he had been walking and walking and walking and when he looked up, he was inside. 

You wonder if Taehyung comes here as often as you do. Wonder if he makes an effort to always stop in since he drops by the parlor on a regular basis. Wonder how long you’ve gone, cruelly so, just missing each other. 

“Y/N?”

You look up to see him gazing at you, a lopsided smile tugging at his features. Next to you, the barista hands you your bag of baked goods, two as always, and winks before getting back to work. 

“Hey, I didn’t see you come in,” you lie, hoping that he didn’t catch you ogling him as he walked inside. “You stop by often?”

“Whenever I get the chance to,” Taehyung says back. “I like carbs and coffee.”

“Then I suppose you’ve found the perfect place to be,” you say. And then, in a blaze of courage, you ask, “Are you just popping in, or do you want to sit down for a little?”

Taehyung smiles, warm and wonderful. “I’d be happy to.”

You snag a table in the corner, facing away from the barista who keeps sending you nonsensical and exaggerated facial expressions and gestures, because this is not a movie, and he is not your beautiful love interest who waltzes into your life and sweeps you off your feet. Even if he is rather beautiful. 

“I got two pastries,” you say, tugging them out of the bag, still wrapped in napkins. “Want one?”

Taehyung chuckles as you hand one to him. “Do you always get two of what you order?”

“Hey, I like carbs too,” you tell him defensively, making Taehyung nod in agreement. Seeing as you bought them just a few minutes ago, they’re still warm, soft between your fingers as you pull apart the dough and slowly take a bite. It tastes even sweeter than usual. 

“Do you come here often?” Taehyung poses. 

“Anytime I drop by the parlor,” you add cheerfully. “And sometimes even when I don’t.”

“We seem to always be missing each other, then,” Taehyung muses. 

“Hopefully that will change,” you add with a grin. “Jungkook finished my tattoo a couple of days ago. Do you want to see?”

“The one of my drawing?” Taehyung asks, even though he already knows the answer. 

“What else would there be?” You say, pulling up the sleeve of your shirt to reveal the design. It’s only been a few days, so the tattoo hasn’t had nearly enough time to fully heal, but the sketch is just as prominent as it was when it was first pressed into your skin. It fits perfectly in the empty space that was there before, the lines filling out the blanks between the other pictures. Almost as if that spot had been waiting for the right thing to fill it. Almost as if it had always belonged there. 

Taehyung’s mouth opens in awe as you show him, the skin still raised where the needle had pressed against it. You have to say you don’t really mind showing off your tattoos to others, especially when they bring you so much joy yourself, and people are usually more appreciative than disapproving, but watching the way Taehyung’s face lights up when he sees his design, his sketch, his art on your skin makes your heart beat something terribly fierce. 

The beauty of tattoos is that it is permanent art. Art on the wall of a museum will need to be constantly restored, will be moved from place to place as people bid hundreds of thousands of dollars on owning it. But tattoos follow you wherever you go, will keep you company no matter what the circumstances are. It is art that is permanent, because it will never leave you. 

It seems that Taehyung has realized that as well. 

“Wow, I—” Taehyung says, rubbing at the bottom of his lip, unable to tear his eyes away from the dark ink decorating your body. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I’ll let Jungkook know that you really like it,” you say, pleased. “He did an excellent job, as always.”

“Why?” Taehyung asks, the simple question being the only word he’s able to form, the only thing he’s able to think. 

“‘Why?’” You repeat, an eyebrow raised. “Why did I get it?”

“Why did you get that one?” Taehyung says for emphasis, pointing to the design laced along your upper arm. “Out of the millions of possibilities, why choose mine?”

“Oh,” you say, at a loss for words. It’s difficult to pinpoint why. It doesn’t have a terribly sentimental meaning to you. No long-lasting symbolism that has followed you throughout your life. You chose it because it was simple and easy and beautiful. Because you thought that it would be the perfect fit. “Well, I don’t have a great reason.”

“It’s permanent ink on your body,” Taehyung says. “You must have thought it meant something.”

“I just liked the way it looked,” you say. “It was so plain and modest, but it looks like a scene out of a movie. Like a moment captured in time. I don’t know—” you shrug, “—it sort of reminds me of a Polaroid picture. The sun halfway above the horizon. Its reflection on the water.”

Taehyung is speechless, a soft grin slowly inching its way across his face. He looks fond, looks grateful and honored. Like what you told him was the perfect answer. 

“Is the sun rising or setting, Taehyung?” You ask, curious. You suppose that no matter what he chooses, it’ll be the right answer. That the sun can either be rising or setting, so long as you know that it will always return. If it’s rising, it is but a reminder that there is a whole day ahead of you. That you have so much to do and so much to look forward to. And if it’s setting, it’s to let you know that you made it another day, another twenty-four hours. The sun may be saying goodbye, but you can never lose faith that it will come back to say hello. 

Taehyung seems to ponder for a moment, eyes tilting upwards as he thinks, lets the question weigh on his heart. And then he turns to you, a glint in his eye, and he says, “You think it’s the sun?”

And truth be told, you had never considered that it might be the moon. 

In the stark black-and-white of a single-color tattoo, it could be anything you wanted. It could be a massive planet in another galaxy, could be a sweet chocolate ball sinking into a warm cup of milk. But Taehyung thinks it’s the moon. He sees the absent sky as dark, sees the circle in the center as the one that watches over you when you sleep. 

The sun and the moon are the only two constants in everybody’s life. One will never be without the other. And they will always chase after each other, circling the sky every day and every night, eternally unable to stay together. 

Perhaps it is the moon. Or the sun. Perhaps it is rising, or setting. 

And perhaps that is why you chose this design. Because of its ambiguity. Because it can mean so much despite being so little, which is what art is for, isn’t it? To see something and make it beautiful in your eyes? To always look at the world through rose-colored glasses?

No matter what it is, it will remind you that you are never alone. No, even when you have nothing left, the sun and the moon will always stand by you, watch over you. They will light up the path in front of you and guard you on your journey. 

“Well,” you ask Taehyung, smiling. You wonder briefly if that was the whole point of his design. For it to represent whatever the viewer wanted it to. And then you realize that of course that was the point. That Taehyung drew it like this on purpose. Tattoos will follow you for the rest of your days. So will the sun and the moon.“What do you think it is?”

You don’t see Taehyung for a while after that. 

Not that you had been expecting to inexplicably bump into him on the street, or anything, but you were secretly hoping that your luck had changed. That you were slowly beginning to make up for all of the moments you missed each other, all of the times you were just five minutes away from meeting, always just a little too early or a little too late. 

Still, you wish that you could see him more, or at least more often than you currently do, which is never. You know so little about him and yet there is something that draws you closer, makes you want to sift through the layers of dust between his bones, find out what makes his brain tick and his heart beat.

Ever since he walked into the tattoo parlor that day, strolling in with his hands on his pockets and witty comeback on the tip of his tongue, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. About how his art is etched onto your skin eternally. About how he does everything with purpose. 

Meeting him was no accident. 

Is it possible that you were always meant to know each other?

After a month, you return to the parlor, half in search of another design to add to the collection and half hoping that maybe your luck will change and you’ll be able to see him again. And if not, at least there’s always Jungkook to keep you company. 

You drop by the bakery and pick up a very optimistic three scones, just on the off chance that Taehyung may be there when you arrive. Besides, you can’t imagine Jungkook complaining about free food, let alone extra of it. 

But when you arrive, you’re shocked to see that Jungkook is busy working on someone. 

“Taehyung?” You ask, his name the first word to come out of your mouth when you enter. He’s sitting at the same stained white vanity sleeve rolled up as Jungkook presses the needle against his skin. He’s wincing, in that way that people who are getting their first tattoo do, not necessarily from pain but simply from the feeling. 

Jungkook pulls the needle away from Taehyung’s arm before the two of them both turn to look at you, equally as shocked by your presence. 

“Y/N,” Taehyung says back, almost as if your very existence has taken his breath away. 

“You weren’t supposed to come for another hour or so,” Jungkook says, checking the clock on the wall. 

“Are you complaining to the person who brings you free baked goods?” You ask, making Jungkook shake his head in a guilty no. You saunter over to the table to pull out the scones, giddy about having rightly purchased a third, when you notice the design slowly being imprinted onto Taehyung’s skin. 

It’s the same one you have. 

“Hey, what’s this?” You ask, not necessarily looking for an actual response so much as wondering aloud. Taehyung’s getting it in the same place as yours, the upper arm, a single drawing of ink on bare, untouched skin. It must mean something rather special to be his first. “Is that—?”

“Don’t be mad at me for copying you,” Taehyung says sheepishly. “The more I thought about it the more I liked it.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you tell him. 

“I don’t know,” Taehyung says with a sigh as Jungkook motions towards the needle, a silent question to see if Taehyung’s still alright with him continuing. Taehyung nods, letting only his eyes drift upwards to yours as Jungkook goes back in. “I mean, I guess it’s kind of impulsive, isn’t it? Getting a tattoo after seeing what it looked like on someone else. But when we were talking about it, I just thought about how detailed it really was. How it said so much despite being so little.”

“That’s what I thought about it, too,” you say with a grin. “It’s special. I mean, every tattoo is special, but this one is because it can mean whatever you want it to mean. Whether it’s the sun or the moon, rising or setting. And the beauty of it is that you can change your mind about it, too.” 

If one day, you would rather the moon watch over you, keep the waves calm on a quiet night, where your thoughts are loud and heavy, then it will. But if, the next day, you want some light to shine down upon the field of daisies and wildflowers in your heart, then the sun will come out. No matter which it is, it will stand guard over you, protect you from what the rest of the world will try to throw at you. 

“What do you think it is, Jungkook?” Taehyung asks, making Jungkook stop. 

Jungkook looks down at the drawing, at what he is pressing into Taehyung’s skin, and he says, “I think it’s the rising sun. Telling all of us to look forward to a brand new day.”

You smile. “And what do you think it is, Taehyung?”

Taehyung doesn’t skip a beat. “I think it can be all four all at once—the sun rising, the sun setting, the moon rising, the moon setting. It just depends on what you want it to be.”

“You know,” you say with a grin. “We’re going to have matching tattoos now.”

“Oh, are we?” Taehyung asks cheekily, even though nothing he ever does is accidental. Not the sketch, not the tattoo, and certainly not its placement. 

“We are,” you say, pulling up your sleeve for good measure. “They could be buddies. Hang out and take pictures together.”

“What about us?” Taehyung asks. “Can we hang out and take pictures together too?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” You pose, even though you already know the answer. 

“That depends,” Taehyung quips back. “Are you saying yes to one?”

“I think I am,” you say, pleased smiles lacing their way across your faces. Taehyung is beaming, the discomfort of a needle barely even registering, as he grins at you, charming and brilliant and bright. “And I look forward to it.”

“Me too.” Taehyung nods. 

“I’m here to hopefully get another tattoo,” you tell him, raising your eyebrows. “If you want, you can stick around and maybe we can get tattoos together.”

“Isn’t that a bit impulsive?” Taehyung smirks. 

“Aren’t you?”

And you think that, even though the universe kept you apart for so long—separated by minutes, perhaps even seconds—it sort of always knows what it’s doing. You were never not going to meet. It was just a matter of when. 

And the sun and moon will never not protect you. It is just a matter of which. 

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

Complexities Unknowable Chapter 3

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23274334/chapters/57175900

Chapter Two link: https://tha-best-url-evar.tumblr.com/post/614327945408987136/complexities-unknowable-chapter-two

MasterPost

Relationships: Established Relationship Dukeceit, eventual intrualiceit, background analogince.

Warnings: Remus says some things (mentions of biblically accurate angels, gore art description), food mention, mild sleep deprivation, cursing. As always everyone is sympathetic. Roast me if I forgot something. 

Word Count: 1,851

Remus was, once again, sitting on the counter in the light side kitchen. It was an ungodly early hour of morning, so the Commons were deserted. He was supposed to be waiting for Morality, according to the  spiteful little plot Dee had offered him that he hadn’t listened to all that well, but he surmised it meant he was supposed to fuck with a light side, so… Duh. Of course he was in.

Truth be told, three out of four of the self-proclaimed ‘light sides’ hardly bothered him! They were stuffy prudes, sure, but their insults slid off his back like blood off of steel. As long as he was doing his own thing with Deceit alongside him, everything was fine (he was still pointedly ignoring the existence of another Creativity). But looks like what Deceit wanted to do was torment Patton into, like, repenting? Or something? Like he said, he wasn’t listening.

Anyway! Waiting and watching was what he was doing! And doodling, because sitting still was literally impossible in Remus’ experience. Thankfully, he soon saw the paternal trait springing down the stairs. Straightening his back, The Duke put on his best intimidating face (which he thought looked rather silly, but Deceit assured him was very unsettling). He set down his sketchbook and blurred his edges. It didn’t work very well up here, but it was a little trick that they’d all- Virgil included- learned years ago. Honestly, he just used it to get cheap scares every now and then.

Patton strolled into the kitchen, whistling some jaunty tune and holy shit , Remus had figured it was some shtick, but was he just a cartoon character all of the time ? That was- sure, very adorable- but mostly all the more entertaining to scare!

“What’s up, Dilf!?”

Patton shrieked, nearly dropping a mug. With wide, startled eyes, he found the source of the noise. Said source watched the emotional trait force his expression into something amicable, laughing loudly.  

“Um- good morning, Remus! I, uh, didn’t see you there.”

“That was the point, MoMo,” Remus replied, dragging his claws screechingly down the side of a cabinet; Patton winced at the sound.

“Can I help you with anything?” Read: Why are you still here? Sometimes Remus wondered if he was too good at his job!

“Nope! Just enjoying the atmosphere, sketching, terrorizing…” He flipped onto his back, throwing his arm out and presenting his open notebook.

“You draw?” Patton seemed weirdly happy about that fact, managing a more natural smile. Seemed he thought he’d found something to work with, but that was likely to change.

“Of course I do, I am Creativity, after all! Here .” He handed over the sketchbook with a Cheshire smile. The creative trait had ensured it was flipped open to a detailed depiction of a being composed of several flaming rings, all of which absolutely covered with bloodshot eyes. It had an indiscernible amount of wings that could only be counted as ‘too many’. In the center of the rings was a swirling black void (a type of ink that took Remus weeks to conjure properly, thank you very much).

He watched carefully as Patton studied the image, looking bemused.

“It’s an angel!”

That seemed to only confuse the moral side more, making him tilt his head to a few different angles to look at the drawing. But he still didn’t seem upset by it, oddly enough.

“It certainly is an interesting interpretation,” He responded at last, “and all of these little lines must have taken you forever, that’s so impressive!”

Truth be told, they had taken a while, and Remus was very happy that the effort had been noticed- but that wasn’t the point!

“That’s nothing,” he took the sketchbook back from Patton and flipped through more pages. Aha! This would fuck him up, for sure! A full-color illustration of someone hung up on a meat hook, rib cage pried open like a spike trap to reveal very painstakingly rendered organs. He was actually quite proud of this one.

The only response that Patton gave, however, was a slight wrinkling of his nose when he first saw it, followed by more quiet observation.

“What do you think?” Remus prompted, watching as Patton set the drawing back down on the counter and began to assemble things for breakfast, seemingly unaffected.

“I wish I could draw that well, but I’m still not super good at it,” he said admiringly.

“I had to crack open my own ribs to make sure it was accurate, you know!”

Morality yelped at that one- score one for Remus! Finally!

“You wanna see my re-imaginings of my favorite Final Destination deaths? I’ve painted some with real- well, conjured- but real enough blood!”

But Patton didn’t even flinch this time; he looked more determined even!

“Art is a healthy outlet for expressing yourself,” he was almost certainly parroting Logan there, and he even seemed to believe the statement. Perhaps Remus would have to be a little more creative to get more reactions.

. “I agree! I didn’t expect you to have such an open-minded point of view. I’ll be sure you’re the first side to know when I make my next amateur taxidermy sculpture! Emphasis on the amateur!”

“Great!” Patton practically shouted, very stubbornly staring at the stove.

Before Remus had the chance to continue, the distinct sounds of Logan and Roman arguing their way downstairs met his ears, and he cut himself off. That was enough for one day, he decided. And anyhow, he looked forward to trying new ways to bother Patton next morning.

Deceit rose into the shadows of the Light Side commons with a smirk. It was an awful hour of the night, which was part of the plan. Not only was Patton the first awake in the morning, he was also often the last to sleep. Deceit supposed that Logan was looking after Roman and Virgil’s sleep schedules nowadays, which made it much easier to catch the artificial patriarch alone. That isn’t to imply that Dee had been tracking their schedules or anything, but the overwhelming lie that Morality surrounded himself with made him easy to track- especially in the night, when he had to pretend even harder that he was fine without the presence of his little family. Deceit entertained the idea that he should feel bad for the side, and maybe he did somewhere deep down. Deep, deep down. No, further than that.

Regardless of any such feelings, he was here to mess with Patton. Still unnoticed, he watched quietly as his target scrolled through Netflix, illuminated only by the dim glow of the television. The side looked so tired that he could’ve passed as a corpse, but gave a tiny smile after finally selecting whatever it was he was going to watch.

Wait. Wait. He was watching that ?

Deceit stared at the unmistakable green text that was the intro to The Good Place playing across the screen. If there was one thing he was expecting Patton to watch (Cartoons? Friends reruns? Slime videos?), it wasn't his own favorite show.

“Hm.” Deceit hummed.

In response, Patton shrieked and fell halfway off the couch. His head darted around until he finally spotted Deceit, who had slid down to sit on the sofa as well.

“Oh- um- good evening, Deceit! Wow, today is just full of surprises!”

“ Surely you won’t mind if I join you? This is one of my favorite shows, after all.”

Patton fixed his position so that he was no longer partially on the floor and looked the snake up and down. He paused the episode.

“ Really ?”

“Really,” and then, after some trepidation, “Honestly.”

Suddenly, Patton lit up dramatically, a happy smile stretching across his face. Fuck, wrong direction, Deceit wasn’t supposed to be cheering him up!

“I’m surprised that someone like you would like it,” Deceit continued hastily. Patton’s smile fell a little and he tipped his head in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean ,” He lounged back against the couch, “I didn’t think you’d approve of a show where all of the characters are such bad people .”

“What?! The whole point is that they aren’t bad!” Good, Back on track .

“Oh? Then what are they? Last I checked, the main character was very selfish .”

“I- okay, I see what you’re trying to do,” Patton turned to face Deceit entirely, “But they’re- they also-”

“Also what ?” Deceit was also sitting sideways on the couch now, his eyes glinting. He was certain that he’d talked the trait into a corner, which was why he was so utterly unprepared for Patton’s response.

“It’s, like, they all start off not great, but that’s because they were all set up for failure before the afterlife! They had it hard before dying, but when they were finally given the chance to actually get better, then they got better! They aren’t perfect , but they care about each other! And I think it really shows that sometimes, somebody can be wrong over and over and over again, but that doesn’t mean that they’re hopeless, or that they’re a bad friend, or…” He trailed off, looking down at his lap and blinking very quickly. “Or that they’re a bad person.”

Suddenly, Deceit wasn’t that sure that he wanted to see Patton upset anymore.

After a very uncomfortable silence that lasted far too long for his liking, the scaled side realized that he should probably be the one to say something.

“That’s…  a very in depth analysis, Morality. I’m inclined to agree with you.”

“Thanks,” Patton replied. When he looked up, his eyes held an odd recognition. It was a look that no Light Side had ever given Deceit, but they gave it to each other plenty of times. The side in question wasn’t sure if he liked it, but he sure knew that he was uncomfortable.

“So… The show…” He prompted.

“Oh, right!”

Patton pressed play.

Deceit had planned on doing some more provoking of Patton as they watched, but he found himself rather caught up in the program. The conversation he did end up making with the other incidentally slipped into chatting about their shared views on the show. It was almost nice. Maybe. Whatever.

After a few episodes, Deceit elected to return home for the night. As he was sinking out, he heard a sleepy voice bidding him farewell.

“G’night, Kiddo.”

He popped up in his bedroom after that, eyes quickly landing on a half-asleep Remus half-watching Saw 4 . The lights were dimmed to a glow, and the TV’s volume was so low that it might have been inaudible to anyone other than the more animalistic sides.

“You didn’t have to wait up for me,” Deceit murmured warmly, sitting beside his fellow Dark side. The trait yawned and rubbed his eyes, instinctively leaning into him.

“Wanted to,” he responded, voice groggy, “How’d it go?”

Deceit snapped his fingers to change into sleep clothes, reaching across Remus to flick off the lamp. As he settled in to semi-watch the movie, fingers automatically moving to card through his partner’s hair, he carefully considered the question.

“Fucking. Weird.”

Chapter 4

Tags: @deceits-left-glove​ @princemesscharming

[let-me-make-you-proud]

Tangled: The Series Q&A with Kait.

This is a recapitulation from today’s (September 14, 2019) Questions and Answers session with Kait on the Tangled Discord Server.

Q: Which Disney princesses outside of Tangled the series can you see Varian being friends with? Nonfranchise ones included.

A: I think Belle is the first one who comes to mind!! She’s super studious and goes against the grain…not to mention her father is an inventor who’s a little off-base! 🙂 I think he’d be super comfortable experimenting with Belle and her dad and reading awesome stories! (Maybe even sharing the Tales of Flynn Rider with her! …Assuming she hasn’t read it! Haha. ) He could also eat ham sandwiches with Anna. Sorry. Second thought. Lol!!

Q: So Kait, as a storyboard artist on the show what kind of little details, quirks or creative touches did you or any other artists put into Varian scenes you or others storyboarded?

A: Ha!! Any acting scene with Varian I had…I pretty much based off of Anna Lencioni (my best friend/ another board artist on the show.) Anna makes these very specific expressions and she gestures to herself a lot and closes her eyes and creases her brows and says things like “A-huh! Actually…” or “Um!!” Before making a point and it’s always reminded me of him.

She kept a “flynnolium” prop from Halloween with green goo in a vial in her cubicle at work so long it grew mold. She said she was studying it. She found scrap metal in her boot one day. She has a basement lab for her experiments and crafts. She befriended two raccoons at her last apartment. She is the most accident-prone person with freckles I’ve ever met…she’s pretty much him.

Jeremy Jordan’s reads give you so much to work with…and I love that character so much I feel a natural sort of understanding of how he might say something or do something…but Anna would always do these specifically Anna things that I had to use for Varian.

Q: Do you have any specific advice for aspiring storyboard artists or people who aspire to work in animation?

A: Gestural drawings help you learn to draw fast…which is a very important part of storyboarding. I would say storyboarding‘ s biggest requirements are clarity and speed. Lots of productions have different requirements in terms of what they look for from story artists. Tangled‘s leadership cared a lot about drawing skill, animation, layout, etc. because it more strongly informed the animation studio to have those things. The show I’m working on now (Monsters at Work) is a 3D show…so for our production, the emphasis is more on story and speed. We pitch ideas more than we pitch drawings…so clarity is important and acting is too, but we’re far less precious about tying down drawings and animating since we shift into the 3D production pipeline after story. The boards are still very important…but the more technical aspects are a *little* less so. The focus is just more on story and character and what the board artists can bring to their scenes.

So I’d say just practice drawing…maybe try and give someone a prompt or ask a friend for one. Choose a theme! Maybe vampires? What’s the worst thing that could happen to a vampire? What’s the best thing? What’s the funniest thing? What if they were also an alien? Or fused with a werewolf? Or chained to one? What would happen? Giving yourself a starting point for an idea will inspire you to explore all the possibilities for humor, drama, etc. in that idea. If you’re struggling to give yourself a prompt, try looking online…or maybe choosing a song you like or a passage from a book for inspiration.

There’s also this really fun thing you can do to study cinematography and shot composition called a “three tone” exercise. Basically…put on your favorite (live action) film, grab a sketchbook, grab a black and grey marker, and use the white of the page for your third tone. What you wanna do is (as you’re watching or while pausing) sketch a small thumbnail using only three grey tones of what you see on the screen. Draw the shot- where the characters are, try and duplicate the lighting…it teaches you a lot! 🙂 (Phew!)

Q: Do you have any fun non-spoiler head canons about Varian?

A: I think his favorite dessert is apple pie and I think he bakes recreationally very often! He’s probably a good cook. (Though he may have one or two minor accidents……a burnt thing here and there. Minor oil splatters….haha!!)

Q: What’ve been your favorite episodes, both to storyboard and in general? Of course, no specifics if it’s S3

A: Haha! Well…What The Hair and Queen for A Day have special places in my heart because they were such big moments for my favorite character…(Varian, haha.) But I’d say the episodes I had the most fun boarding are all in season 3!!! Which is exciting! I have to start compiling some work to post! 🙂 I think the episode I had the most fun with is one you guys will really enjoy.

Q: Will we get some interesting surprises (In Season 3)?

A: Without any spoilers- absolutely!! The show is always full of those.

Q: So We’ve heard many fans express why they love Varian as a charcter before, I’d love to know what drew you and Anna to Varian as well and why you guys personally found him to be a great character.

A: When Shane Prigmore originally pitched the character to me, he was much younger. He was like 11 or so, I think? Maybe 12? He’s still pretty young…but what Shane said was that he wanted him to go from this wide-eyed kid to this dark, angry person whose bangs fell over those wide, bright eyes…just full of rage. That idea was super interesting to me…it just hit on something in character development that I felt like I’d never exactly seen before? He was so young and it was such an interesting idea to me to make a child the villain and to give that child a strong reason to be angry? It felt like it was taking this child very seriously, which I appreciate. It felt very real and very dark.

The thing that threw me through a loop but also evolved my fascination with the character was Jeremy Jordan’s casting. I listened to a lot of the auditions they had for various actors and I had seen a ton of Shane’s concept art of the character…a lot of them were VERY different than what we have now. One version Ricky Roxburgh (writer) contributed to had Varian cast as an adult in the story. But when I heard Jeremy I felt like I totally understood who Varian really was.

He was a well-intentioned disaster with unchecked emotions. That. Is me! Haha!! I see myself in his imperfections, his emotionality in spite of his creative and often intellectual thinking. He wants to ascend to these levels he may not be ready to ascend to…he feels this need to prove himself and seek validation. I don’t know, I guess I relate to that! And I’m just a sucker for good guys gone bad. The other half of this, of course, is that he’s very charming and cute and super reminds me of my best friend, Anna Lencioni.

Q: Which character do you most like seeing interacting with Varian?

A: It’s a little spoilery for me to reveal that……..but I think you guys are gonna know when it happens! Haha!

I can’t wait to post THOSE boards

That’s actually right out of the episode I think I liked boarding the most, haha.

Q: If there was one prop (furniture, object, the like) from the Tangled series that could be made real and you could keep, what would it be..?

A: I think it’d have to be those little alchemy orbs that Varian throws? They just suddenly clean the whole castle hallway somehow and like…could use me some of that. He also has the one that removes stains from tablecloths, so. I’m sloppy. That’d be a big help. Haha!

Also his staff is pretty cool 😉, I boarded/created that staff…David Lee (prop designer) did its final design…haha

Q: I have a question about a scene in season 1. When Varian got back the first part of the scroll he mentioned that it took him a while to translate it. Has he really been able to read it or has it been a bluff?

A: Varian can indeed translate what’s on the scroll. 😉

Q: Do you have any networking advice for those trying to get into the animation industry?

A: Post your work!! Make it easily accessible, tag it well, just show what you’ve got online! Upload boards, animatics, drawings, etc. Creating an online presence can really help put your name out there. Apply for internships, jobs. I know it’s hard to network because a lot of industry professionals don’t have time to answer specific questions or give portfolio reviews…so it’s sort of important to take some initiative on that and be self-motivated.

For me, I studied the portfolios of Disney feature story artists, CalArts students, etc. and tried to structure the presentation of my work based on that. Also, it helped me get a sense of what pieces of work would best showcase where I was trying to go and what I was trying to do. I’d ask yourself those questions as you develop a portfolio and artistic voice online! 🙂

My first feature job after a trainee program in New York at Blue Sky happened because Doug Sweetland (Pixar animator, feature director, awesome dude) found my work online and liked it. He just reached out based on that!

Shane Prigmore actually reached out to me for Tangled similarly.

Q: Besides Varian, do you have a favorite character that you’ve boarded?

A: I always love Eugene. He’s the second character I think I’m most like. His acting was really fun to play with and I felt like I could push his expressions a lot because he’s so funny. I loved boarding Lance too (I boarded a lot of Lance in S3!!) but MAN was he hard to draw, haha! His face shape is just really hard to draw at certain angles.

Q: With Varian cosplay that is going on, what Disney character would you like to see Varian dress up as next?

A: Jack Skellington! Halloween is afoot. Jack is another well-intentioned disaster. Guess I have a type!

Q: What’s Varian’s opinion on raccoons, are they his favourite animal?

A: I imagine it’s because Ruddiger is always finding interesting things in the trash and giving them to Varian to use in his experiments. Also, they’re fat and cute.

Q: There’s a bit of an argument going on over how many freckles Varian has. Can you confirm how many he has?

A: Ha!!! Yes…one second… 14!!

Q: How big do you think Corona is? Like Vatican City small or Arendelle big?

A: You know, with the wall and all, it actually feels a little on the smaller side to me? I’m sure there’s a little bit of discrepancy between the movie’s version of Corona and our version…but based on where we went within Corona on the show, I’d say it feels on the smaller side.

Q: Are there any non-spoiler Varian scenes or moments that didn’t make the cut that you can share?

A: MAN. Yes. There is one scene that changed after I rolled off the episode and I’m very sad about it. I’ll post it after the episode airs! There was also a line of Varian’s that I boarded to a specific read from Jeremy Jordan and that read was not chosen in editorial later so…I’ll post that one too, haha!

Q: What is your favourite song from the first two seasons so far?

A: All my favorite songs are in season threeeeee…hahahaha!! I think Let Me Make You Proud or the Buddy Song are my favorites. Buddy Song still gets stuck in my head now and then.

Q: What do you think Varian would order at a drive-thru? Specifically at chipotle 😂

A: Chipotle isn’t a drive thru!! Hahaha He’d get the kid’s quesadilla from chipotle. I think Varian is a fries/chips kind of person…something to snack on while he works! He probably also likes milkshakes.

Q: (Continuation from the question above) Chocolate or vanilla?

A: He’d revolutionize by combining them both. FOR SCIENCE!

Q: What is, in your opinion, the most challenging part of varian’s design to draw?

A: His goggles, hahaha. Or just his…hair in general.

Well it’s funny too because when you board these guys, you get used to doing a shorthand for them and then when you go to draw them FOR REAL you realize how complicated that actually is and how wrong your shorthand actually was? Hahahaha

Q: is Varian ticklish at all?

A: I feel like Varian, Eugene, and Lance are all equally ticklish. To the point of absurdity. Cass would fight it as long as she could…but when it finally got to her, she’d laugh uncontrollably. Rapunzel, she’s the TICKLER.

Q: What do you think Varian opinion and belief on magic is now that he’s seen it with his own eyes?

A: I imagine that he certainly believes in it now and no longer underestimates its powers…but I imagine he’s ultimately more comfortable staying in his own lane and working with worldly properties!

Q: If Varian would have been able to meet Demanitus…how would their conversation had looked like?

A: I feel like Varian would have had a TON of questions about his legendary device and whether or not he truly traveled dimensions.

Q: Did Varian have any other friends in old Corona before he met rapunzel?

A: Probably not many…he’s a bit of a hermit. I think Ruddiger is his best friend……. It’s sad but I also think that’s kind of why it hurt so bad when Rapunzel wasn’t able to help him. Also why he was SO excited to have Rapunzel, Cass, and Eugene come visit.

I think the village looked at Varian as a little unstable or worrisome. I’m sure everyone knew he was very nice…but they were likely very unnerved by his inventions.

Q: Do you think Varian ever tried to synthesise gold or the elixir of life like a real alchemist?

A: I’ve wondered that myself!! I think his alchemy has proven to be more about other people…helping others, making people proud. Maybe if someone he cared about was in need.

Q: If you were to meet Varian in real life, what would you say to him?

A: What elixir did you make to get THAT kind of volume? His hair’s so POOFY! Honestly, I’d probably just give him a hug.

Q: How much does Varian know or remember about his mom?

A: I’d say about as much as the photo of her on the wall.

Q: Is there spoiler about his hair streak? Or is it just by design?

A: It’s totally by design. I think it’s safe to assume it’s probably the result of some lab accident!

Q: In what ways is Jeremy Jordan like Varian?

A: I don’t know Jeremy Jordan personally, haha! But I think a lot of these inflections he adds to Varian sort of off the cuff probably come very naturally to him. I know he often wants to do his own pass at the musical arrangement Alan Menken writes…like he’ll want to do something a little different, in his own way, and it will change the song completely!! In an awesome way. That’s a little Varian-esque. In the “Let Me Make You Proud” reprise…Alan Menken had sung that “they are going to pay…they…will…pay” all in a low, downward tone. Jeremy wanted to scream it and make it powerful and angry and loud when he said “PAY” and you could just hear the spite in his voice for the “they will pay.” Genius!

Q: What was the most shocking moment/revelation of the series to you (minus anything season 3)?

A: It’s hard to say because I knew most of what was going to happen long, long ago. I think one of the things that made me go “oh dang!” was something Tom Canfield boarded. It’s that part in Destinies Collide where Lance slices the entire statue down the middle with a sword. What a BAMF!

Q: What were your thoughts on the early concept of Varian having an apple orchard and being a farm kid instead of a young alchemist?

A: He still kinda has those things! Quirin is a farmer as well as the village leader and there are apples on their little farm estate! 🙂 I think that makes Varian very unassuming as a mad little scientist. I’m sure that’s how (Ruddiger and Varian) met! Remember, he used his purple tacky goo stuff to catch raccoons so they wouldn’t eat the crops! And Ruddiger’s favorite snack is apples. 😉

Q: What is his official height and weight?

A: Smol.

Q: How did you guys come up with Varian’s name? And was there any other name suggestions for him before the name ‘Varian’ was chosen?

A: I’m not sure who came up with that name, actually! I’m sure it has something to do with the meaning of the word “variant” which means something that varies, changes in form.

Q: What’s his last name?

A: His last name!! I have NO idea and it bothers me!!! A Disney magazine referred to Varian, Ruddiger, and Quirin as “The Ruddiger Family” and I still haven’t stopped laughing about that.

Q: What sad Disney movie moments would make him cry?

A: Oof. Lion King.

Q: What musicals do think Varian would enjoy?

A: Little Shop of Horrors! I think he’d see himself in Seymour! Or Wicked…you know, that villain arc.

Q: How did Arianna and Fred meet?

A: I actually don’t know off the top of my head!

Q: Would Varian enjoy rollercoasters?

A: I think he’d enjoy how they’re MADE and then scream his head off while riding one, throw up his cotton candy and corndog, and go play carnival games instead. Then get mad that they’re rigged.

Q: So what comes next for you now that the series is almost over? Any big plans?

A: Well the series wrapped for production a while ago! I’ve been on another show for almost a year now! 🙂 I’m working on the new Disney+ show Monsters at Work as a director! It’s an awesome, awesome show…totally next-level…I’m shocked that I’m getting to be apart of something like this. It’s a direct sequel to the movie that serves as an office comedy (a la The Office, Parks and Rec) and has so many characters that fit immediately into the Monsters Inc world. Monsters Inc is my favorite Pixar movie…so I literally come to work and leave work on the same high! It’s an awesome, awesome show with a great crew! 🙂 It’s also just really exciting to be apart of the first original animated property for D+!

Q: How would you compare working as a director to working as a storyboard artist?

A: It’s hard work, just as hard, but in a different way! For me personally, I’m a little easily fatigued by drawing? I get a little creatively frustrated because my thoughts move quicker than my hand. Or because I don’t always feel like I can execute in a drawing what I’m thinking in the way that I want? Part of that is just being an artist…and it’s not ALL the time that I feel that way…but I think I have a certain stamina for drawing that I found challenging to increase.

Directing is just different! It has a lot more to do with managing a team, communication, coordinating, listening, speaking up, problem-solving, being very aware of story as it applies to ALL parts of a production. I don’t draw as often anymore. You have to consider a lot more…more people, more constraints, more difficulties, more opinions, more solutions…it’s just MORE. And you also still have to draw! 🙂 It’s very busy work, but it’s AMAZING and I love it. I feel like I’m contributing to animated storytelling a lot more in this role, actually. I love working with people, I love workshopping, and I love helping! I’m also just spoiled to be working with some great people right now. It’s a blast.

Q: Are any Tangled: The Series crew joining you on that show?

A: Yes!! Tom Caufield and Wendy Sullivan were on it for a minute, but they’ve both moved on to Dreamworks recently! James Suhr (board artist), Isabelle Gedigk (season 3 board artist), Naomi Hicks and Casey Coffey (revisionists), David Lee (props), Ricky Roxburgh (writer), and I are all working together again! It’s awesome.

Q: Does Varian, deep down, blame himself for the amber?

A: I believe he does.

Q: How do you deal with artist’s block?

A: I try to think about the intention behind what I’m doing. Why is the scene I’m working on very important to the story? If it feels unimportant or boring, how can I make it interesting? What can I do on my end to make it more inspiring or fun without going too far off the rails and still serving the scene’s purpose?

If it’s not work-related, I try and start with some fan art or something familiar for me to draw. I have a lot of scribbly Varians in the margins of a lot of my sketch documents. I use him as a warm-up a lot. It helps build my confidence to draw something familiar/ that I think I can draw pretty well.

Q: What’s the hardest scene you’ve ever had to board?

A: Oh God. ANYTHING with action. I’m not an action gal. Lots of stuff in S3. I was board partners with Wendy Sullivan and ended up getting a lot of action to board even though she’s WAY better at it than me!! It was an interesting challenge…but it was very, very challenging. Ben (Co-EP) was a great mentor to me in the scene I did for the mid season. He was very patient with me, despite my shortcomings as an action board artist, haha. I enjoy boarding for comedy much more.

Kait: Anyways, I should probably head off now! Thank you guys so much for all the questions!!!! You’re awesome! I hope you’re all super excited for S3! It’s a great one.

[destinywillowleaf]

Apollo Justice, prosecutor of Khura'in in @greentrickster's AU is done! Split the sheet because I couldn't get it all visible in one shot.

This was probably the hardest of he sheets to fill out completely. If it wasn't obvious, I took the more Khurainese/concept-based designs from Nahyuta's pages and used them here, with the character actually living in Khura'in.

One of he hardest parts - as you could probably tell between the back and forth of it - was figuring out what to do with Apollo's hair. Would it look better in the front, like his father, or would it look better spread out? I'm still not sure which I like better. There's also one with somewhat of a rat tail ponytail but that was just for dramatics. The surprised Apollo at the top is a similar joke, because seriously what if his surprise animation were the spikes standing up like they usually do.

This got longer than expected so details under the break, as well as some AA6 spoilers if anyone still cares about those.

The first sketch was the upper left one, pulled from one of the final drawings in Nahyuta's concept art. A lot of these are just concept art on Apollo really but with a twist: the bell sleeves to cover his bracelet. When he bends his elbows too much and poses like the one to the left of the start, though, his bracelet can be seen.

Brought back the outfit from 3rd sketch page, no. 4, again with the extended sleeves. Final of that probably would have some sort of cuff on the end for extra style points.

Bby Apollo is actually like 10-11 there and look I just really like the outfit I will find a use for it and no one can stop me.

Last one in the first image is just trying posing, obviously distressed over something... But what is it?

Second image!

Starting at the top, Rebel Apollo. I have a feeling that he worked with the Defiant Dragons for a while in the field, acting as a lookout with his insane eyesight and loud voice. He's got a bandana a la Bowser Jr., with the mouth of a dragon painted onto it(though in the sketch I was pulling more inspiration from the Chinese Guardian Lions and the komainu). People knew of the "Dragon's Dog" but not of who they were. This does sometimes get used in the Plumbed Punisher when Dhurke is saved by a mysterious shadow.

Going across now to the short cloak, pulled from one of Nahyuta's earlier concepts. The Khurainese Prosecutor's badge is on either side(left and right), and he's wearing an outfit like Dhurke's underneath.

The small doodle to the right of it was my attempt at making a bit more of an action-y pose because he's a monk and more willing to fight than expected. Also, the ponytail. That's here.

Serious mode, with another concept sketch. This one was pulled from the teal outfit with the red shoulder scarf thing but obviously here t would be a different color. I have no idea how the buttons work either, I was just trying to replicate what was in the picture.

... and immediately next to it he reason I made my earlier post about overthrowing he government and getting a lousy t-shirt. He's very displeased. Nahyuta has a matching one. It was worth every penny. Give me the little things.

Apollo and Ema are most definitely salt friends. He's the Prosecutor's Office for less than a day, set up right next to Klavier, and he has to listen to guitr all day. Klavier isn't a rock star anymore why is he still doing this. He brings it up with Ema once and she is more than willing to talk and gripe about him. Often over Snackoos.

And finally, the one that's a combination of a number of different designs. The cloth from the late stage concept just as a belt, the canon Nahyuta shirt thing but way shorter(so like the one with the scarf), and something like Dhurke's jacket over it.

No, I still don't know how to draw shoes. For either of them. But I do know one thing: this Nahyuta is really, really fun to write. He's got the same tiredness of Apollo but with more internal anxiety over his appearance. I've got a few little ideas that I want to write up when I get time(something I don't really have right now, to be honest /_\")

Honestly one of the best things about this AU is exploring how events could have gone down. Nahyuta's lack of Gramarye sight means he can't detect lies and he has to take more roundabout methods to finding the truth when Trucy can't help. Apollo being in Khura'in means he's closer with his father but still knows nothing about who he is or who his parents were. Even though he didn't know Lamiroir was his mother, Phoenix could still figure out the identity of Thalassa's firstborn. Reasoning changes for why characters do certain things, and the final showdown of AA6 is even more emotionally taxing for the main character.

I really hope there aren't any typos in here...

[weeklyfangirl]

Frat Boy Pt. 13

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12

HI WOW TIME HAS SERIOUSLY FLOWN BY FOR ME - enjoy your fratty frat boy in all his angsty glory ;) Let me know what you guys think I miss you!!

“Down to watch Hocus Pocus and pass out candy to wee ones? My parents invited me down.”

Renny’s eyes softened, imagining the cuteness of last year when a toddler showed up dressed as a magnet with an attached note card saying “chick.”

“Okay, usually, yes, but the-”

“DG’s,” I groaned.

Midterms were creeping up and I was slowly dying between late night grading biology tests and the stress that’d been building up wondering about what in the fuck Harry had going on in his mind. He was hot, he was cold, and I wasn’t sure if this was all a massive game to him. It’d been relatively silent on the Harry front ever since the day of island paradise. The memory of his penetrating eyes examining me on the pier, and the twinge of electricity between us had inspired my wandering fingers more than once. I wouldn’t admit that to him, hell, I could barely admit that to myself.

I’d been too stubborn to text him, but not too stubborn enough to wear his sweatshirt out this morning. If we were friends, wearing his sweatshirt wouldn’t be weird. Technically he’d just invited me to meet his dad, which I admit, stung a bit, but a part of me couldn’t give up that he wasn’t into me. Could eyes lie so easily?

The ball was technically in my court to tell him whether or not I’d be going, so…

I slurped a scalding sip of tea, cringing at the inevitable. “Welp, if you’re going to ditch me for the DGs then I might as well go to Harry’s.”

She smirked, “I know.” 

I smacked her arm. “Is that why you’re ditching me?!”

“Hey, I’m not ditching you. It’s a thing for new recruits. You were invited, too.”

My ear still ringed with my mom’s shrill scream on the other end of the line when I’d told her - though I’m not sure if she’d be more excited by the fact that her daughter was going to visit the Styles residence or a sorority party.

Renny continued, “And please, as if you’d really go hang out at your parent’s alone when you have an offer to play co-host with Mr. Hunky Mystery Man. We’re sad sometimes, but we’re not that sad. Actually…”

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just… I’m surprised Harry isn’t going to be at the frat’s party.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “He said it was a family tradition.”

Renny’s brows rose at the F word. 

“Okay, but their house is also huge, I doubt it’s going to be an intimate affair.” Truthfully, I was excited to see how their house would be decorated. When I told my mother I probably wouldn’t be coming home to pass out candy, she’d told me not to worry. The neighbors were coming over and they had a couple of cheap wine bottles to drain. I’m sure not telling her I was going to the Styles's house wasn’t going to be that big of a deal.

“Are you kidding me? If Harry hands out a grand to cabana men then I can’t imagine what they’re going to spend on this party. Honestly, I’m kind of jealous.”

“Wait- what? He gave Ben a thousand dollars?”

 “Is Ben the cabana man?”

 “Yes.”

 “Then yes. Or about a grand, I mean I didn’t count it myself but it was a thick. Stack.” Renny’s brows shot up. “You seriously didn’t see that?”

 No wads of cash were in my memories. I was too busy retreating away to the golf cart to notice any grandiose money exchange. Ben’s words when he was saying goodbye to me at the golf cart suddenly flashed in my mind - tell him thank you for me.

 Thank you.

 I hadn’t even assumed the reason why. Probably because out of all things, I wouldn’t have guessed that.

 Renny tapped on her lips, signalling to mine that I painted a nice neutral. “Like the shade. What’s it for?”

 I looked to my watch. “Zayn. And I’m actually going to be late.”

 “Ugh, not fair!! Why can’t I have an artist draw me?”

 “Please, Felix was practically drooling over you last year, and he’s a graphic designer, right? I’m sure he has some sketches of you locked away in a cabinet somewhere.”

 Something that resembled a blush spread on her cheeks.

 “Oh my god. Does he?!”

 “He probably got rid of it by now.”

 I shook my head, scooping up my tea and 50 pound school bag with me. Leave it to Renny to have a collection of men up her sleeve at any given time. Even the beautiful brainy boy.

 “Tell Niall to try drawing,” I called back. The mention of the frat star turned a few heads at the crowded campus coffee shop, and I bit my lip at the scene, skirting across campus to the art studios where people wishing to escape found their haven.

 ---

 “A little to the left,” he murmured. His golden brown eyes peered over the white canvas, tirelessly scrupulous as they focused on each feature, and I felt my heart beat faster at the intensity of attention. “A little up.”

 My head tilted to his command, my exposed neck feeling even more naked as I noticeably swallowed.

 Did he hear that? Did the music need to be played louder?  

 “Beautiful.” He reached for another charcoal pencil in his kit. “Have you been in here before?” His voice gently rose over the Coldplay softly playing from the speaker system.

 “No, not yet,” I admitted. “I was going to take a ceramics class, but I dropped it the first week. Not exactly the sculptor type.”

 “So you’re not the artist, more the painting?”

 My brows furrowed. “What?”

 “I’m taking ceramics,” he said, not bothering to clarify.  

 “Yeah? You like it?”

 He didn’t answer, sweeping his pencil across the page - the aesthetic lulling of the way it scratched along the paper making me realize that yes, he’d definitely heard me gulping earlier.

 The soothing noise didn’t stop, and he didn’t answer for a time that seemed much longer than a minute. I wonder what Harry was doing right now? Was he in class? Practice? Not that I should even be thinking about him.

 The little smug version of me was dancing in my brain, delighting in the fact that somebody else was paying attention to me, that there were other people who found me desirable besides Harry. Sure, this was solely for Zayn’s assignment, and yeah, Harry could easily have any number of women he merely glanced at - but me? I could get by without him just fine, and-

 “Your face comes across so soft on paper. Gentle,” he said, glancing first at his work, then up to me, as if trying to see if the reality mirrored the copy.

 I shifted nervously, but the swivel chair was more sensitive than I’d thought and I almost went flying off the other side. He laughed a bit, before taking his top lip between his fingers.

 “Look, I’ve nearly got this one finished right. I’ve got your basic outline to finish the rest on my own, creative liberties ‘n that, but I’ll need a few more still lifes from you if that’s…”

 “Yeah! That’s fine.”

 “Might be a longshot with the holiday, but do you mind coming in this weekend?”

 Plans of the Styles’ Halloween bash rang as a reminder, and it buzzed throughout my entire body. “I can’t, actually. I’m going to a party, I think.”

 “Really!” he set down the pencil dramatically. “Am I going to see you in a plaid skirt up your bum again, missy?”

 “Ouch, no! But fair. Cringeworthy, but fair.” I slid down the chair, crossing my arms. His eyes didn’t change in their intensity even if he wasn’t holding a pencil. “It’s the Styles’ Halloween bash Saturday. I’m guessing it’s a family-friendly affair so no, I will not be in anything showing any skin, anywhere. I guess they do it every year.”

 Realization sunk in, but it seemed a bit of a show. “Harry, yeah, that’s right. Are you two…?”

 I shook my head, thinking of what Harry must say when (or if) he got asked the same question. There was no doubt in my mind.

 “No.”

 It was some weird “in between” with us, but no was a much easier answer.

 “Right, well, that’ll be interesting then.” He bit his cheek, mulling over something he wasn’t quite sure he should say.

 “What?”

 He opened his mouth, closed it again. “Nothing, it’s just… I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a part of that family. It’s got a lot of history.”

 “Yeah? Like what?”

 “Let’s just say there aren’t that many British boys that get adopted by Americans.”

 I tilted my head back, put off at the slight arrogance in his tone. There was a protective side of me that wanted to rear its head and bristle whenever somebody talked down to Harry, and I wasn’t sure how to put it away.

 “I’m not sure what you mean.”

 “You can look up the story, but-”

 A knock at the door, and a petite black-bobbed Asian girl peered her head in.

 “Hi, I have the room at 5:30.”

 I glanced to the clock on the wall, just a little past.

 “We’re finishing up,” he said. She nodded, not budging. A little territorial over the studio space. Which, I completely get. Once midterm season hits, the library starts to resemble a refugee posting with people camped outside cubicles and “quiet rooms,” hoping for the prior group to leave a little earlier if they didn’t have reservations of their own.

 “Yeah, we’re done.”  I picked up my bag, and put my beanie over my head.

 “Well, I’ll be in touch then. Sometime next week?” He followed me to the door, and placed a hand to my lower back. I stopped, trying to discern if there was something else behind his eyes. Maybe this hadn’t just been for a project.

 But his hand was removed just as quickly, and with a little “See ya,” he closed the door behind me.

 -----------

 Lines of vintage cars parked outside the Styles’s home wasn’t what I’d been expecting when Harry had shot a text that it was a masquerade gala. Maybe it should’ve, but it wasn’t. I squinted my eyes at a woman in a neon vest waving around her flashlight to the approaching cars and signalling them to available spots along the street.

 How was I meant to find him in this madness?

 “Here is fine,” I told the Lyft driver. I’d bit the bullet (or rather, my wallet) to get a ride. I thought I’d bypass the embarrassing “car dying” scenario again and just play it safe. Not that I was expecting to spend the night again… the toothbrush I’d stuffed in my purse screamed otherwise, and seemed to burn a hole into my thigh.

 But still, totally not expecting to spend the night.

 Totally …. not ….

 The sound of the Uber leaving made me realize I was doing this. Again. Willingly walking into the lion’s den simultaneously with at least ten other well-dressed individuals.

 Expect me tonight, I’d sent. It was a little bold. I had to refrain from sending any emojis, but I’d done it. Played it cool.

 Wear a mask, he’d replied. And I felt my stomach drop a little bit. He hadn’t said-

 Cool! Gee, thanks for letting me know! Wow that’s so nice to hear! You made my day!

 No.

 Just a simple three word request. Actually, more like demand. I bristled the same moment my phone buzzed.

 Please.

 I sighed. I guess it was four words.

 Of all the themes to pick though… I rolled my eyes at “masquerade.” Renny had done the opposite, and flew to her dresser, opening a drawer full of toys and masks and - oh my gosh was that a leash? She handed me one, black lace over the eyes that could lift up and over the cat headpiece. I didn’t ask any questions for why she had this so readily available, because guessing from the other contents in the drawer, I already knew the answer.

 “You look-” Renny kissed her fingertips- “Bellissima.”

 Older, sophisticated silver foxes arm-in-arm with their wives took the time to glance at the young woman approaching the estate.

 I blamed it on the deep red dress Renny stole from the theater department (or borrowed as she insisted). It fanned out with dramatic flair like an 18th century production of Shakespeare would - or how our school’s production of Much Ado About Nothing would (which was now short one costume).

 The doors opened to the tinkling of a piano.

 Amidst cocktail waiters weaving between the masked strangers, someone was actually playing it. He had brown curly hair and I practically raced to his side to avoid standing in the foyer alone any longer.

 “I didn’t know you could play.”  

 The man quirked his face, his hands not stopping.

 Even with the mask I could tell it wasn’t Harry.

 “Oh, sorry,” I said, stumbling back.

 Hands gripped my shoulders, as lips went to my ear-

 “Not well.”

 Twisting in his grasp, the familiar curve of his smirk appeared. His green eyes were highlighted by golden flakes etched into a black mask, and my breath quite literally caught in my throat. Somehow, each time, I forgot the magnetism they held. And somehow, each time, I forgot that I was absolute putty in his hands.

 “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

 Something flashed in his eyes and I knew it didn’t come out right. “The house looks… amazing.”

 I was floundering, FLOUNDERING.

 His nose crinkled the same time he placed a hand to the small of my back. “Too many cobwebs.”

 And without a word, he started leading me through the crowded rooms. Cobwebs over the banister and scary paintings of haunted people replaced the usual art in their home - except for the centered family portrait, intimidatingly framed in gold. The cobwebs were a fitting touch. I wondered how many secrets these walls held, how many years things have been kept in the dark, or swept under the rug.

 Every family had them, but something told me this place had enough storage in all its rooms to hold more than I could imagine.  

 We passed a room set-up with aisles of empty chairs and a projector screen that read “Jane Foundation.” Pamphlets and envelopes were lain on each of the chairs, but we walked too quickly for me to get a closer read.

 “What’s that for?”

 “Later. You don’t know?”

 I shook my head. He slowed to a halt in the hallway.

 “My parents put on a fundraiser every year for the children’s hospital. It’s how we end the evening.”

 My mouth opened and again- floundering. He scratched behind his ear.

 “Yeah, I thought.. I don’t know, I thought everyone knew. But I shouldn’t assume I guess.”

 I just shrugged my shoulders, accepting that his family had the capacity to pull something like this off. That the were pulling this off. That I was even here. Clearly living ten minutes away was certifiably living under a rock.

 He paused, a slight quirk in his lips. With the distraction of the music and the people, I hadn’t had the chance to really look at him. Or him, at me. If anyone ever asked, I’d call him shameless, but I wouldn’t even call it that as he drank me in. It didn’t seem as intentional as that. It was instinctive.

 I drank him in as well, and even if it was just a brief moment facing each other in the hallway with masked strangers streaming through, it felt like it was just him and I. How long had we been like this? Broad shoulders in a nice suit, a tall frame that could cover and protect, brown curls that looked so soft to touch, and eyes that spoke of scary pasts and a soft heart that locked me still in place. He was walking poetry and as much as it made me sick, I didn’t want to stop. I wanted him closer, to lean in closer...

 “Come on,” he murmured, but this time he was in front of me.

 I followed, straight to the dining room.

 “Oh, you are trying to get me to not fit into this dress,” I said. It was full of catered food from the nicest restaurants in Coast Hills. Last time I’d been in this room, it hadn’t been the most comfortable encounter. Now that the corset was digging into my ribs and I was a little short of breath, I predicted I was in for Awkward Dinner Part II.

 “You aren’t hungry?” He faltered, turning to face me.

 I gave a coy smile. “Well I didn’t say that…”

 “Hey! So good to see you.”

 Gemma burst through a small cluster of people, Charlie right behind her. His navy suit matched her slip dress, tapering off at the ends like the foam from a wave.

 She embraced me, Charlie soon after. But it was the same side-hug squeeze that made me remember him. Harry noticed my grimace. Charlie noticed Harry noticing me.

 “All good?” Charlie pulled back.

 “My brother did that all the time,” I said. Harry handed me a glass full of champagne, and I took it, happy to have something else occupy my mouth. I hadn’t expected to say that at all.

 “I didn’t know you had a brother,” Harry said.  

 “You don’t know a lot of things.”

 Gemma perked up. “That’s right, put him in his place.”

 “He’s not around much so, I don’t think to talk about him much.” I left it at that, a slight offering to make Harry feel less offended. His expression was impossible to read, and I wasn’t sure if my words had actually helped or hurt.

 “I have a sister like that. Moved to Lisbon with her boyfriend. We see her on holidays though.” Charlie jumped with a chill. “Jiminy- it’s cold in here, isn’t it?”

 “Have more wine babes, it’ll cheer you up,” Gemma said. And just like me, a champagne flute was suddenly in his hands.

 “Well we were just headed to get some food,” Harry mentioned, eyes slightly widening when they locked with mine - a silent plea to take his cue.

 “Wait! Let me take a picture really quickly.”

 “Gemma,” he sighed.

 “Just a little one! Just a quick...second...” She dug in her purse, struggling to juggle the wine and the mini plate of couscous and falafel.

 I took a step to the side as soon as she pulled the camera out.

 “Hello? Where do you think you’re going? Get back in there.”

 Harry raised his brows to me, both in annoyance and apology. I stood next to him, and he placed an arm around me. It was just for a moment, but I still felt him. Always.

 Gemma smiled at her phone. “Aww, this is perfect. I’ll send it to mom, too. She’ll like it.” She said the last bit cautiously.  

 Harry’s face turned unreadable, his eyes complete stone.

 “One for me now,” she said, reaching down for something else.

 “I swear, she can hide an elephant in that bag and the only reason someone would know is because it’d trumpet during the previews.”

 She pulled out a polaroid camera. Somehow, in the past five seconds, he’d gone from mildly annoyed and embarrassed to deadpanned over it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually growled.

 She held up the camera so I smiled, but as the flash went off and I looked beside me - he was gone.

 “Oh! Harry,” she scolded, but he’d already walked too far away. I saw him weave his way towards the windows of the house and look out.

 “You shouldn’t have mentioned her.” Charlie kicked his shoe. He saw Harry too, looking vigilantly out the window. A second longer and he turned on his heel. He stood taller as he made his way back.

 “Well, at least it’ll be a good picture of you. I’m creating a little collage of the evening.” Gemma put the camera away in her big bag. She reminded me of a mom on prom night and suddenly I felt like I should send that photo to someone, too.

 “That’s so cool! I’m sure it’s going to look so… cute.” Through the crowd, Harry motioned to the food. Clearly, he wasn’t in the mood to say brief goodbyes to his sister.

 “We won’t keep you. Get the pasta pops though. To die for,” Gemma said. “Charlie and I were going to take a stroll by the pool if you want to join us after.”

 “Yes! Oh, and would you mind sending me the photo, too? My mom wants proof I’m alive tonight.”

 “God, of course. Here.” She gave the champagne flute to Charlie, typed in my number, and sent it off.

 “We’ll see you later,” Charlie said.

 “The pasta poppers!” she exclaimed, flute in the air as they weasled their way out to the patio.

 Before I could wonder where Harry was, he met me by the Sprinkles cupcakes stand.

 “Going for dessert first?”

 “Looking for the moon?” I picked one of the mini cupcakes and plopped it in my mouth to spite him. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away for a split second before looking back. His smile grew.

 “Damn it.”

 My heart picked up its pace.

 “You caught me.”

 He held another cupcake to my lips but I shook my head. “I’m hungry for real food right now.”

 He nodded, and without me saying another word, he took my elbow to bring me to his side. It was comforting to have his hand at my back as we walked through the spread of food. Even if it was lightly placed, in a crowd full of people I didn’t know, at least I had a place with him. My eyes widened when I saw them. The glorious, innovative Pasta Pops. AKA rolled up ball of pesto pasta on chopsticks… I grabbed four.

 “So, when am I seeing your dad?”

 “What?” He piled more food on top of the mountain already growing on his plate.

 “Your dad. The reason why you invited me.” I didn’t believe it. Not anymore. The host of the party wasn’t going to sit down and talk about a potential internship at his own full-fledged party.

 I put a Pasta Pop in my mouth. His attention broke and he watched my lips go over the ball, puckering as I pulled it to the tip. It’s when my lips came off with a “pop” that he sucked in a cheek, smirking.

 “You won’t be talking with Lionel long. Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself in the meantime.”

 But when I reached over someone’s arm to grab a slider, they stopped me.

 “Hey, you.”

 His eyes lit up and instantly I was drawn in for an awkward hug. Behind his back, I mouthed did you plan this?

 He shrugged his shoulders and looked away with a sly look.

 Lionel pulled away from our quick embrace and looked to my pile of food. It was my turn for the awkward shrug.

 “No, it’s good! Keep going! We have enough food here to feed a small country. Are you still thinking about medicine?”

 “Yeah, not much has changed in the past couple of weeks. Same old, same old.”

 He paused, raising a finger. “I gave you my card, right?”

 How could I forget the card that’s been burning a hole through my dresser…

 “Yes. I’ve been meaning to call you, but I’ve been so busy studying with these midterms, and work, too...” I let my voice fade.  

 “What do you do for work?”

 Harry slowed as he picked up a napkin, and I knew he was listening in even if he wouldn’t stop and join the conversation. I watched his eyes skirt across the table close to where my hand toyed with the serving spoon.

 “Well, I’m a T.A. right now, but I’m also working in the physical therapy room on campus. It’s pretty easy for the most part, blood doesn’t scare me.”

 “Good. You’ll need a strong stomach for most cases.” A man tapped him on the shoulder, stealing his attention. “Give me a call when you can, we’ll set something up at the practice.”

 He leaned in behind Harry, both hands on his back. “Take care of her tonight.”

 Harry stiffened. I’m not sure why. Lionel had such a warm look in his eyes, I automatically trusted him. As he left with his friend, he flashed us one white smile, and I felt loved.

 What the heck was in this family. What kind of beauty steroids did they take?

 “Penny for your thoughts?”

 The quip sounded weird coming from Harry, the Vogue Italia model, leaning against the table. But then again, I was looking after his father with a dazed look on my face that was screaming “I wish I was 40 and you weren’t married.” I snapped out of it and mimicked his pose, equally skeptical.

 “If I hadn’t seen your dad here just now, I swear I wouldn’t have seen him at all. I barely recognize the place with so many…”

 “People?”

 I nodded.

 “I promised that you’d talk to him.”

 “Riiiight.”

 “You don’t trust me?”

 My brows rose. “That’s a loaded question.”

 A spark of indignance puffed up his chest. “What? You actually have to think about that?”

 “I’m just saying. Communication is usually the key to building that up. Just, you know, a friendly tip to help you with those future relationships.” I tapped his chest, and he reached for my wrist. A bold move, sober. He thought so, too, for he dropped it a second later. I was waiting for a, “You can trust me,” but instead he turned serious.

 “Smart girl.”

 He looked at me that way again. A little too deep, a little too long, and I cursed myself for not knowing what to do. He took a bit of his bottom lip between his teeth.

 “I didn’t know you worked in the therapy room.”

 “That’s because you never noticed me before.”

 “Ah, ah,” he raised a finger like his father. “That’s because I’ve never been injured before.”

 I let out a short laugh. “You’re an arrogant thing, aren’t you.”

 “Just honest.”

 Honest.

 But would you answer if I asked, Harry? Would you answer if I asked you what in the heck we were doing? Did I even want to know the answer?

 “I’m really glad you’re here,” he said. And it looked like there was something more swimming behind those eyes.

 “I am, too,” I said. “Much better than a sorority party...” My eyes narrowed. “What in the-”

 “Y/N?”

 Clearly, Viv was just as surprised to see me. Mary Styles was beside her, and she raised her glass to me in a distant hello before giving Viv a kiss on the cheek, excusing herself.

 “What are you doing here?” The silver blue dress she wore was glued to her skinny frame like snakeskin. Harry shifted his feet as she came closer and I wonder if he noticed how tight it was.

 “I followed the noise and traffic directors and decided to hop the gates,” I said.  

 “You didn’t get the initiate invite?”

 An almost pitiful look befell Harry. “You had somewhere else to be?” His puppy dog eyes confused me.

 “Technically, yes. I just, um” - I looked to Viv - “decided to spend my evening somewhere else. You didn’t care to go either?”

 “Oh, I come every year. I practically live in the guest room anyways.”

 I pictured Viv laying poolside during summer barbeques, coming around for Christmas parties, and waking up in her silk pajamas to Sven handing her delicious pastries.  

 “Well this’ll be fun anyways. We’ll have our own little sorority party here.” She turned to Harry. “Can I speak to you for a second?”

 “Yeah.”

 She looked at me apologetically, then back to him. “Alone.”

 His eyes narrowed just the slightest, but he didn’t even have to think about it. He placed a hand at my back. “I’ll just be a second.”

 Viv gave me a half-smile as she interlinked her arm through his, and they left, abandoning me in a swarming crowd with cold sliders. Without him beside me, I fought the ever-present urge that I didn’t belong, but wandering to the glass doors, I saw the red gown in the reflection, the black lace of my mask. I didn’t look like regular ‘ol me tonight. Nobody knew me tonight. A rush of confidence ran through me.

 I was somebody. With, or without Harry.  

 A twinkling bell carried through the halls the same time I stood a little taller. The piano music died down and everyone quieted.

 “I hope everyone is enjoying their evening,” the shrill voice of Mary Styles carried higher as she placed herself atop the spiral staircase. Some people clapped a little prematurely and she smiled at them graciously. “If everyone could please begin filing into the foundation room, we are about to begin the programme.”

 I stole another flute of champagne. Programme.

 The twinkling sound rang again and people began handing their plates over so they could grab their wallets. Several men apologized as they bumped into me, trying to move around the cocktail waiters. Wherever Harry was, he’d just have to find me later. I followed the crowd when my blood ran cold.

 There was something sweet in the air.

 The air around me seemed thinner. I looked around, quickly, but all I saw were masks. Even if they didn’t have them on, their faces were starting to blur in my mind.

 But that too-sweet scent would never.

 It was the man from Kean’s.

 I inhaled again, but it was gone, carried away and overpowered by Dior perfume and Gucci cologne. Were they here? Were they watching me? Were they waiting to get me alone?

 They’d done it before. Maybe it’d be easier this time...

 My mind went to horrible places, and suddenly I was running against the sea.

 I scanned as I ran, but it was futile. I burst through the kitchen doors and froze. There, Mary Styles was heaving over the trashcan spitting out strands of pesto pasta.

 She looked up at me with the emptiest eyes I’d seen.

 “I’m-I’m sorry.”  I bumped into the counter, stumbling out the way I came. Her glossy eyes were haunting. Had I just seen Mrs. Styles eject the contents of her stomach?

 Alone, I shook it off, trying to calm my breathing. They couldn’t do anything to me here. Hell, Mrs. Styles was on the other side of the door. I would scream. People would hear me.  

 “Hey, you okay?”

 And even though I recognized the voice, when his hands were placed on my shoulders I flinched.

 “I smelled them,” I said, looking over my shoulder to the kitchen.

 “Who?” Harry’s eyes followed my gaze. He took a step toward the kitchen.

 “I wouldn’t,” I said.

 He stopped, confused. “I mean, you can, but I think your mom is sick,” I continued.  

 My tone wasn’t convincing. He bit his cheek. “Right.”

 And even though we both knew that his mom didn’t have food poisoning, that was a conversation for another time.

 “They’re here, Harry.”

 “What are you talking about?” He paused. His eyes saw the panic in mine and he swallowed, hard.

 “They can’t be. There’s security.”

 “I walked through the door, no one searched me or checked my name off a list.”

 “You’re a girl, it’s different. The security has a list of faces to watch out for, and trust me, they’d stand out.”

 “No- Harry,” I stammered. He wasn’t get it. “Their cologne. I haven’t smelled it since Kean’s.” The name tasted bitter on my tongue. “I was there- and your mom was talking and I was following these people but I smelled them. And it was so crowded so I ran and she was in the kitchen, and I don’t- I don’t know how, but they’re here. I didn’t imagine that. And no one else would be wearing that. No one else could smell like that.”

 I gasped for air, not realizing that I was on the verge of sobbing until Harry’s arms came around me.

 “Hey,” he soothed. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

 I let him hold me, but I wasn’t sure if I believed him. Their living area was too empty now. Too quiet. And even in his arms, even knowing what he’d done to them before, I didn’t feel safe. What was the point of having a massive castle if you couldn’t defend it? Your wealth just made you a sitting duck. A giant target.

 “Why would they be here?” I asked.

 “They wouldn’t be stupid enough to come here,” he reassured me.  

 “You probably think I’m crazy.”

 “No, don’t do that to yourself.” He pulled back just enough. “You’re not crazy.”

 And with no one to see, he took my hand, leading me past the foundation room. A part of me actually wanted to see the auction, but my mounting paranoia was stronger. We passed by the bar on the way to his room. It’d been empty for my last visit, but now the caterers were taking full advantage of its liquor storage capacity.

 “Let’s see,” his voice drawled as his fingers shifted through the bottles. He didn’t ask before pouring us two cocktails.

 “After you,” he said, nodding towards his room. By the time I’d sat down at the foot of his bed, he shut the door behind us with both drinks, and the vodka handle in the crook of his arm.

 “Is the foundation for your sister? Jane?”

 Harry avoided eye contact as he set the bottle down, pushing his hair back, brows raised.

 “Uh, kind of. I never knew her.” He turned to me finally, shrugging with an apathy that had taken years to perfect. “I mean it’s sad, we don’t have to talk about it now.”

 “Is it ever a good time?”

 He looked at me, giving me the chance to take back what I did. I didn’t.

 “She died before I was adopted.”

 “Oh.” My stomach dropped. There was so much I didn’t know, but I hadn’t been expecting this. His eyes didn’t hold any sadness, but guilt still pricked my heart. “I’m sorry.”

 He looked out the window again, distracted.

 “Again, I didn’t know her. It’s sad, but I don’t…” -he tried to find the right words, loosened his tie- “It’s not my grief.”

 I nodded; that made sense. It was his parents. The Styles. But the legacy of that pain couldn’t have had zero repercussions on their second child. There was more to the story than he was sharing, but I didn’t press. I walked closer, slowly toying with my drink.

 “So you find it hard to miss something you never had,” I clarified.

 He took a deep breath. “Cheers.” He raised his glass to me and I mimicked him, cringing at the stiff drink.

 “How are you feeling?” he asked.

 “Warm.”

 He nudged me, growing serious. “You know what I mean.”

 How was I feeling? The inner me cleared her throat and yelled from a soap box.

Jealous.

Scared.

Confused.

ANNOYED at how many windows this house had. I looked at Harry’s dark mask, the swirling madness in his emerald, the way the suit fit snug against his toned body… we were very much alone.

 Add turned on to my emotional cocktail.

 “I’m feeling a lot.”

 “Hm,” he hummed. “I’m feeling a lot too.” And it was so quiet. So bizarre to hear him say something even remotely close to feelings that I stood completely still. Was his drink as strong as mine?

 Our eyes were locked, but he didn’t turn away. I fought every fiber in my screaming to break the intense spell.

 He leaned in closer, tilted his head lower. Our noses brushed.

 Panic.

 “Are you and Viv…?”

 “I’m not up here with her am I.”

 Relief.

 But I didn’t have the courage to say she’d probably been up here before.

 “You know” - he pulled me closer, waists closing in - “I’m going to need a lot of help with that midterm,” he mumbled.

 Elation.

 An almost laugh that just lasted for a moment, because school seemed so trivial for what was happening in this house. There seemed to be split parts of me - the one I’ve always known and the one with him. Which one was more real to me now? I wasn’t sure if I was the same person that I once was - happy alone, solely immersed in school or netflix nights in. I’d been fine. I’d been safe. Maybe a little bored, but I hadn’t known there was more. With him there was a chaos that burned off his shoulders, that simmered in his eyes, and I drank in the warmth like a person frozen from snow.

 His hands squeezed my sides, and my eyes fluttered closed. “How are you feeling now?”

 “Good.”  

 He didn’t say anything more, but our breath was now in sync. It didn’t matter what he couldn’t say. What mattered was him, and the fact that when he looked at me, I felt everything he couldn’t say.

 Eyes couldn’t lie. Not like that.

 So I lifted my lips, and he went in for the kiss.

 It was like I’d been starved of oxygen when his soft lips encompassed my own. Oh God, I’d missed this buzz. I’d missed him.

 His hands cradled my face as he backed me up to the edge of the bed, lips never parting. A greedy hand shifted lower and he gripped the curve of backside. I whimpered a little, lips parting to allow his tongue to sneak in as he marked what I was so willing to give. He wasn’t pulling away this time. He wasn’t telling me no.

 I sat at the edge of the bed where he’d placed us, and leant back, his body falling atop mine. His delicious weight pinned me down, and he kissed down my neck, nibbling, biting. With a particularly hard suck, I moaned and when I looked down I saw him paused, hooded eyes looking up at me from the sound. His hands travelled down, slowly, from my waist to the ends of my dress. He was heavy but not crushing, deliberate but with respect. He waited for an answer.

 I nodded.

 He bit his lip in a smirk as he hitched up my dress. One hand clutching the soft skin of my hips, as the other supported him above me, Harry rolled his hips against me.

 Oh.

 Against the thin fabric of my underwear, I felt him harden between my folds. Gentle kisses were peppered along my chest and I pulled him closer.

 “Harry,” I whispered, lifting my hips against his. He groaned into my ear, a playful bite at the lobe.

 I shivered the same time his fingers travelled lower against my stomach. He stopped at the band of underwear, my breath catching when he cupped my sex.

 “Is this okay?” he whispered.

 I nodded, hummed, as his hand slowly rubbed against me. I could feel him watch me intently, but mostly I could feel him. Up, down, up... the friction against my bundle of nerves made my lips part. Again, and again, my breathing deepened and soon I was rutting against his hand. The damp patch he created was evident as he took several fingers and ran them against it. He applied pressure at my center and I wanted him to do more.

 He kissed my neck and a “please” stumbled out of my mouth. He smiled, letting out a small breath. He kissed my lips as his fingers pulled aside the lace. The cutest gesture of reassurance when there was nothing to reassure.

 I’d dreamt about this too many times for me to back out. This time I wouldn’t shy away. I took his bottom lip between mine. Go.

 But a glass shattering scream carried up the stairs.

 The commotion from downstairs grew louder, and I didn’t need to say anything.

 I’d already known.

 His hand retracted, and as quickly as it started, he’d rolled off to his side, my comforting weight gone.

 “What the fuck,” he muttered. He stood dead still at the edge of the bed but when he heard someone coming up the stairs, he lunged for the dresser, reached for the top drawer -

 From outside, “Harry! Harry, are you up here?”

 The door flew open.

 His arm fell to his side.

 Gemma stood at the doorway, slightly out of breath.

 “You need to come downstairs. Now.”

 I pulled my dress down, but Gemma wasn’t paying attention to me. There was a wild look in her eye only Harry could understand.

 He didn’t look back to me as he barrelled past her, she followed suit. I sat at the edge of the bed; alone, dishevelled, disoriented. I was scared to follow.

 Everything could change in a moment.

 There were footsteps at the door again and I looked up just in time to see Harry striding across the floor to me.

 “What are you-”

 His lips crashed into mine, and my breath was suspended again. There was an urgency in the kiss that hadn’t been there before. Deep, hard, a hand tangled in my hair when another hitched up my skirt. His fingers swiped at my entrance once and before I could kiss him back he pulled away.

 He let out an exasperated breath, and leant his forehead against mine.

 “I have to take care of this.”

 Unflinching, he drew the fingers that’d just pressed against my center up to his parted lips before swiping them against my own.

 He stood tall as he walked away, broad shoulders subtly moving beneath the suit as he drew a key from his pocket and closed the door behind him.

 There was no way in hell I was staying here.

 I shot up, running to the door - but it was locked. I pounded against it.

 “Harry? Harry let me out this isn’t funny!”

 I jiggled the handle again. Nothing.

 I wanted to scream, debated about screaming as I paced around the room. My eyes went to the top drawer of his dresser. I stopped. He’d reached for something there.

 When I pulled it open it was just some old band t-shirts, but my hand hit something in the back. Pushing aside the shirts was a black box.

 I quickly undid the clasp.

 A black handgun.

 I shoved the box to the back as quickly as I’d opened it.

 Fuck no.

 Frickity fracking fuck no.

 He’d been reaching for a gun.

 What kind of threats was he used to that he needed a gun?  

 I took a bobby pin from my hair, and with an expert skill that only growing up with a sibling could teach you, the lock was picked.

 It took me at least five minutes, but the door opened. I booked it downstairs, a flounder of red dress heading into a quiet commotion.

 I didn't see him when I made it down the stairs. There were too many confused bystanders huddled around their phones and switching social circles, whispering frantically about the scene before them.

I didn’t need to see anything in the crowd. For up on the wall, between collectors’ paintings was a vacant space.

 The family portrait was gone.

 And in its place was a snake that matched the one I’d seen tattooed on skin, the same snake that had been wrapped around my neck.

part 14

[skookworks]

Gallery: Delta Green

Most of my RPG illustration work has been for Call of Cthulhu related projects. That’s the result of intention and good luck and accident.

The Intention part happened in the year 2000. I submitted some illustrations to the Delta Green website. Delta Green was a Call of Cthulhu RPG set in modern times – the late 199os. Most CoC games are set in the 1920s/1930s, the time the original stories were written and set. I discovered Delta Green in 1999 when I working at Half Price Books. I was the buyer when a customer sold us his collection of RPG manuals. In the buy was Delta Green and its sequel Delta Green: Countdown. I bought those books for myself. I loved the ideas behind the setting. It updated the Cthulhu Mythos for the late Twentieth Century in ways that surprised and delighted me. It created a means and a reason for investigators to, well, investigate the horrors from beyond.

I’d wanted to illustrate RPGs but didn’t have much of a portfolio of examples to show. I found the Delta Green site early the next year. I don’t think it had a way to send submissions and I don’t think they were asking for any. What it did have was a way to submit fan art and writing. So I worked up three illustrations (see the follow gallery) and submitted them. They got posted. No one from Delta Green contacted me.

Oh well.

Two years later those illustrations got me work at The Black Seal. But that’s another post.

#gallery-0-6 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-6 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-6 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-6 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

The original photoshop files of these illustrations are, possibly, residing on an old back up drive. It’s formated for Mac and I currently use a PC so I haven’t tried plugging it in. A lot of the work I did in the first ten years of this century was done on a Mac. The art always started as graphite and ink on paper and then had photoshop magic applied to it. I’ve got the original drawings in big metal flat files but the art that got published looks different.

Earlier this year I realized that I’d sent most of those illustrations to the editors and publishers via email and I’ve never deleted any personal emails. So I’ve tracked down a lot of that older art and will be showing it in future galleries. I found the two black and white illustrations in the above gallery in my emails.

The first three images, however, I couldn’t locate in my gmail archive. AOL has long since deleted all my old emals. At first they didn’t appear to be on the current Delta Green site but, after doing some obsessive google searching and some sort of back door poking around on DG I found them in an archive. Huzzah!

Story Seed #54 The Time Line AntiDefense League

There are a lot of stories that feature some sort of organization whose mission is to defend the “correct” timeline, to make sure that history works itself out the way that it is “supposed to”. Bleah. How about an organization whose mission is to create timelines where history works itself out in the best ways for the most people?

Recommendation

Beeple. This person’s art started showing up in my tumblr feed, shared by other folks I followed. It was weird and creepy so I subscribed to his feed. He posts an image a day, every day.

Also, the Growing Up / Overnight Kickstarter concludes on the 30th. If you’ve been putting off backing it. please jump in.

Local News

Last week, in one of our stand up meetings at USPS, we were reminded that we, the letter carriers were not supposed to talk to the press. That if a member of the press attempted to engage us in conversation we were to refer him/her to management. Also, while we were in uniform, we were not to engage in political discussions with anyone lest they assume that our views represented those of the USPS. We were also to be careful not to express politcal opinions on social media in such a way as to lead people to believe that our views represented those of the USPS.

Sigh.

To be clear, anything I write here about my job at USPS is just my experience and my opinion. I like to assume that those of you who read these newsletters recognize this but, on the off chance you don’t, I AM NOT A REPRESENTATIVE OF THE POST OFFICE. I’m just a guy who works there. In my opinion, the USPS can’t actually have an opinion since it’s an organization. Organizations are not people. The people in charge of organizations may claim that their opinion represents the opinion of the organization but that’s just a fiction.

Anyway.

The most interesting part about the day job right now is that I have a new T6. USPS delivers mail six days a week. Regular carriers work and deliver theri route five days a week. A T6 is the person who delivers the route on the regular carrier’s day off. My last T6 had medical issues that prevented them from delivering my route on a regular basis. My new T6 is healthy and detail oriented. More detail oriented than I am, actually. And that’s good. It means I’m updating labels in mailboxes and doing maintenance on my route that I’d let slide. I keep most of my customer changes in my head. Having another person who has to regularly work my route reminds me that I should communicate customer changes in clear, written methods. It’s only polite.

We’ve also moved our start time from 7 am to 7:30 am. I’m not a fan but I’m adjusting.

I’ve left my alarm at 4 am. I get up. Drink coffee Write. Do computer art or make products in either my Zazzle or my Redbubble stores. I’ve updated my various websites to include a “store” page with links to each. This week I spent most of my store time working on an Oz Squad collection for Zazzle. Oz Squad is Steve Ahlquist’s creature but, as a fan and sometime collaborator, I try to find ways to keep the brand active.

Oz Squad Land of Oz

by Skookworks

In the evenings, once we’ve finished dinner and our spot of television, I work on physical art. Right now I’m doing pirate sketches. More about that when the project can be talked about publically.

Thank you for dropping by. Remember that life has always been insane. Look out for yourself and your friends. That’s where sanity and security dwells.

See you next week!

Tuesday Night Party Club #34 Gallery: Delta Green Most of my RPG illustration work has been for Call of Cthulhu related projects.

[kristallioness]

2016 | 2017 | 2018

*quietly sneaks back in*... Happy New THIS Year, my dear followers! In Estonia, we have this saying that if you wish someone a 'happy new year' after Three Kings' Day (the 6th of January), you gotta have a bottle of alcohol with you and give them a drink. *lol*

Anyways, I would like to apologize for the sudden disappearance that happened prior to Christmas. I was just busy travelling back home for the holidays, unpacking and putting away my stuff, watching some great, traditional movies or shows on TV, and most importantly, working on those 2 latest masterpieces that I posted (which barely got 30 notes each.. *sigh*).

But as you can (and probably will) see, the year of the yellow earth pig (i.e. my dad's year) was a rollercoaster of emotions and accomplishments, or lacking thereof.

My creative side seems to have suffered the most due to lack of leisure time. I only managed to finish 3 full digital drawings and left behind several sketches or unfinished WIPs (2 of which are revealed here under the months of June and November for the first time, I intend to finish the Korrasami one btw). At least I got to start 2020 with a completed drawing on the very 1st day, ha-ha! Perhaps that's a good omen for this year?

If so, then I hope I'll find the time to finish the rest of the 2019 Inktober prompts, since I only did 4/31 this past October (even though I'd thought of ideas for all of them). I brought all the necessary drawing utensils and sheets of paper with me, so whenever I'm in the mood, I'll try to sketch another one.

*calculates for the nth time*.. I wrote 18,110 words worth of fanfiction, plus 820 words for the UYLD prompts (making the total 18,930). Technically, you can count another 8k+ in there, since it comes from that unfinished story (of Aang taking care of a flu-ridden Katara, as illustrated by the September sketch), which I haven't finished within the last 4 months or so. Plus, I barely wrote 1/5 of the amount compared to 2018.. *hides in shame*

Then again, I was an excellent pupil for picking up an actual book and reading through 150+ pages (which means I have ~300 pages to go). I'm talking about the new Kyoshi novel that came out. As I once said, I haven't voluntarily read a book in years make that 2 years ago (most of the reading I've done in my life is either Tom & Jerry comics, now the Avatar comic trilogies and art books as well as fanfiction online, or compulsory reading during school). But this novel is freaking fantastic superb!

Not only that, I bought all the new comic trilogies and managed to read them through. Damn, did they give me feels.. especially "Ruins of the Empire" (ngl I squeed so hard when I saw the Korrasami farewell kiss on the 1st page of the 2nd part). I can't wait to read the 3rd part this year!

However, I failed to rewatch Avatar last year, and I haven't seen Korra since.. 2016, I believe? Wow, that's 4 whole years.. But I intend to fix that mistake starting from 2020. Hopefully I'm in the mood to start my rewatch this weekend tonight. *fingers crossed*

But as I said, I had much less time to focus on my hobbies since 2019 was the year for finally moving on with my life (sort of, I'm still working on it). I still remember how down I'd been feeling for a while and how valid those emotions really were. The first quarter of the year (+ like a month or two) was a continuous descent into desperation and feelings of utter failure, which already started around the 2nd half of 2018 and only continued to deepen around that time.

Everything began to change when I was first chosen to be part of a 2-month summer internship in an IT company, and I had to start building a new nest in a new location in Tallinn this May. And now, I feel like I've hit the jackpot by getting a permanent job in another IT company this October.

I got the opportunity to work in two different fields, in two different teams within a year. I met some awesome colleagues (a lot of whom are foreigners) and got the chance to really put my English skills to the test.

Thanks to the new job, I also had to go to a free health check, which went really-really well. Despite my nervousness in the beginning, I feel much more relaxed about my physical (and mental) health, cause the results showed that everything's okay (something I'd been worried about since March 2017).

Speaking of health or staying healthy, there were a few sports events that I went to, too. Our team held the first winter team event (it was the first one for me, at least) by going to do archery in a range on the outskirts of the capital.

I watched the football match between 2 teams of our local league at my hometown together with my dad on his birthday. Our home team won the match and came in 4th place overall in the league this year, which is their best result so far (I'm really proud!). And merely days before I started work, I visited the Tallinn International Horse Show for the first time (also with my dad). I last got to watch horses jump over fences or dance to their musical programs ~ 10 years ago, and I loved it!

Event-wise 2019 was pretty full of them. As has become tradition, I went to the Defence Forces parade on our 101st Independence Day (which seemed rather bleak compared to the centennial, even more so since we didn't have ANY snow at the time).

What will hopefully become new traditions, I visited the television tower on the Restoration of Independence Day (where Uku Suviste gave a free concert in the evening), and went to the Veteran's Rock concert (to honour our war veterans) on our Freedom Square on the 23rd of April (since I'm residing in the capital now, I should be able to go again this year).

To continue with the centennial celebrations (yes, some things are STILL turning 100), I saw and explored inside the armoured train no. 7 called "Wabadus" ("Freedom") in the Baltic Station. This armoured train was one of the keys that led our country to victory during the War of Independence from 1918-1920.

There was an even bigger (150th) anniversary to celebrate in the beginning of July, when I attended our Song and Dance Festival. This was a really important, if not the biggest event of the year. I intend to make a longer post about my experience, cause it's something that you foreigners need to see for yourself. I can't simply describe or put it into words, I have to show you some videos and photos.

But while we're on the topic of concerts, I should mention that I went to 2 more at the beginning of June - Bon Jovi and Sting - as well as 2 that were part of Christmas tours in December - Elina Nechayeva and Rolf Roosalu.

Besides that, I went to 6 different festivals, half of which I'd been to several times before, such as the Türi Flower Fair, Jäneda Farm Days (where I went on my first helicopter ride for my 25th birthday present) and the Christmas market in the Old Town of Tallinn.

The other half is comprised of festivals that I'd been considering going to for a while, or which took place for the first time. The latter applies to the Black Food Festival, whereas the "Valgus Kõnnib" ("Wandering Lights") and the duck rally, both of which took place in Kadriorg, fall under the first category.

The duck rally is a charity event held in the beginning of June. Regular people can buy at least one (or several) rubber bath duckies for different prices, which will then be dumped into a tiny stream that'll carry them towards the finish line. This event has grown more popular each year, and the money the Estonian Association of Parents of Children with Cancer (sorry, long name in English!) collects is donated to the Cancer Treatment Fund.

*wipes forehead*.. Phew! I'm surprised, that's a whole lotta positivity for 2019. I think there's one more important, but seriously negative topic I haven't covered yet, but I feel should be mentioned and explained.

When it comes to politics, 2019 was a complete disaster for us. EKRE (Eesti Konservatiivne Rahvaerakond in Estonian, or Estonia's Conservative People's Party in English) i.e. our populist/nazi/pro-Trump party is in the government as of April 2019, thanks to 100,000+ idiots (out of our population of 1.3 million) who voted for them and gave them 19/101 seats in the Parliament.

No, I am NOT going to apologize for calling them a nazi party, because their main leaders have repeatedly supported ideology that's common to nazis (they use aggressive rhetoric, blame the media for making them look bad, downgrade women, minorities, are racist, anti-semitic etc...). And I will not apologize in front of the people who voted for them, because "thanks" to this, EKRE has dragged our country's reputation straight through a mud puddle (not to mention the scandals that have accompanied 5 of their ministers, 3 of who have THANKFULLY stepped down from their positions) and.. *swears like the British*.. it's BLOODY EMBARRASSING.

I am done being nice, I have at least some kind of prejudice about anyone who supports them or their ideals. And I will certainly not let Estonia end up like America. So that is why I participated in two protest events against EKRE and our current government (because the 2 other parties, who were willing to form the coalition with them, are spineless jellyfish that simply seek to hold onto their current positions of power). I'm willing to take bets as to when our government falls (the sooner the better).

*shakes off the frustration*.. Brrr! So besides that, I guess the only downside to 2019 was my spare time falling back in the list of priorities (which shows in the empty square of July).

2020 is gonna be the year of the white metal rat. I can only hope (and take action so) that it'll be just as eventful, and much more creative than 2019. Thank you all for following me (or lurking anonymously) for so long, especially to the bloggers who've offered me support through better or worse! *raises a glass* Here's to 2020!.. *sip*

[clevercatchphrase]

Just some numbers and figures~

So! I finished my fan fiction, You Monster, this week, and it took me exactly 3 and a half years to write/edit/publish. This post at the time of writing, however, is being written a few days before the final chapter goes up, just examining  some numbers and trends around the wordcount and posting rate of my fan fic, because i’m obsessed with numbers and such, and i’m just trying to chew up time and keep myself occupied before the last chapter goes public. There’s literally no point to this post other than to marvel at how long this story is and how long it took me to get it out there, and reflect on what happened to me in The Real World during that time. Care to join me?

In Microsoft Word, this entire story is 609 pages and 209,235 words. The word count is slightly higher on AO3 (which I consider the definitive draft), partly because AO3 counts formatting tags as words for some reason, and because if I make little adjustments to the story, I’ll do it on AO3, but not on the original word file (or corresponding tumblr post for that matter) because I can’t be bothered to. 

According to AO3, I started this fic on January 3rd, 2016, smack dab in the middle of my winter break in my last year of college. I probably started writing it a few days before, maybe in december. I’m not really sure, but I’m kinda surprised I started it so early in the year, especially since I was writing by the seat of my pants for the first 14 chapters or so.

The following pictures highlight what days/months chapters were posted, according to AO3 (I personally think there might be a discrepancy or two due to timezones)

Chapter-wise, the first third of this story (Chapters 1 through 12) was written and posted in 2 months, and TWO THIRDS of the entire story (Chapters 1 through 25 (rounding up)) were written in the first YEAR.

Wordcount-wise, HALF the story (roughly 100k words) was written in one year.

There was a dramatic drop in productivity at the middle/end of 2016 due to Real World Stress, mostly me graduating & getting a job, the presidential elections, and learning a family member was starting to have kidney failure.

God, 2017 was a bad year for me, productivity-wise. In early June I lost said family member due to their kidney failure, and was completely unmotivated to work on You Monster for the rest of the year. I remember forcing myself to write for NaNoWriMo that year, and it helped snap me out of my funk, but I didn’t like how the writing came out and kept pushing off revising and editing the drafts for several weeks. I also remember getting really sick on christmas eve/day with a terrible flu, which made me unable to post the next chapter until January.

I actually felt a lot better mentally and emotionally in 2018. I WOULD have written more in early 2018, but that was also when the Hiveswap Comic Contest started, and lasted for 3 straight months with me doing nothing more than drawing comics for 12 consecutive weeks. Then, after that was over, I started thinking/planning more seriously about writing ANOTHER story, which later became Ghost Switch, and I offically started that halfway through 2018. I originally thought about making Ghost Switch a written work, but it was basically going to be another re-telling of Undertale, which was what I was doing with You Monster anyway, and I didn’t want to write all of that out again, so I decided to make it a comic instead. It was a great decision for me art-wise, because now I’m improving my art skills through weekly comic pages, but it was also a terrible decision art-wise because now I GOTTA KEEP DRAWING POSES AND BACKGROUNDS AND DRAWING PEOPLE IS HARD. 

Back to the point- I forced myself to write this fic again for NaNoWriMo that year, and was terribly upset that I still didn’t finish. But this time, I forced myself to revise and edit my writing until it became something I could tolerate, and posted the next chapter in January (again, but this time because my writing needed far more revisions than last year’s nano draft) 

Getting back into revising and editing DID seriously help me get back in the groove of Wanting To Write, but it was a little trickier now that I was also drawing a comic, and it was hard to manage my time between the two, because when I write, I do it for great stretches at a time. I mean, like, 4 or 5 hours straight of writing. Same goes for comic making, too. sketching the pages can take me two hours, and cleaning/inking/coloring them can take me anywhere from 4 to 6 hours.

Hm. If I included the other fics I wrote during this time, I get the feeling these calendars would look a lot more active and colorful. Maybe i’ll do that for myself later, so I can see how much I posted in 3 years.

This year, I was absolutely determined to finish this story, even if it killed me. I was still struggling to manage my time between writing and art, mostly dedicating a few weeks to make a buffer of comic pages so I could have a couple of weeks dedicated to writing. It was time consuming, and I felt bad when I worked on one but not the other, but I finally got my breakthrough in May, when I had to take multiple trips to an automotive shop for several different car repairs. Instead of just leaving my car there and going home, I brought my writing spirals with me and just wrote and wrote and didn’t stop writing while I waited in their loby. I finally finished the rough drafts of my story after being stuck for 4 hours in a Pepboys, and spent two more full days typing it out. Then, I rested for a week, and spent 3 more revising and editing the remaining bits. I was hoping to get the whole thing done and posted before July ended, but that did not end up being the case. For me, when we finally get to August, we have entered “the end of the year”. Ah, well. Even though I didn’t get the story completely posted before August, I can still take pride in knowing I finished it before the year was half way over~!

NOW FOR SOME NUMBERS!

I personally divide this story into 5 arcs, Ruins, Snowdin, Waterfall, Hotland, and New Home And Beyond (Which is basically anything that can happen after you unlock the true lab in-game)

Ruins

The Ruins arc I consider everything in chapters 1 thorugh 12. It is simultainiously the longest arc (chapter-wise, with 12 chapters which as mentioned earlier, is 1/3rd of the story) and also the shortest arc, only taking up 24k words (Which is an 8th of the entire story, or roughly 12.5%).It was also the quickest writen arc, as it was primarily prologue/first act material. Pretty much all of it was written in that first January. It’s 80 pages long, or 13% of all pages

Snowdin

The snowdin arc (chapters 13 to 22) is just under 25% of the entire story, coming in at 49 thousand words (on the nose!) It is the second longest arc in both word count and in number of Chapters (10, to be exact~) It took me roughly 4.5 months to write this arc. We also spend the most physical in-story time in Snowdin. Almost 3 full days, which is half of the story’s timeline (not counting the 7-8 years in the Ruins. That was all set-up) It’s 172 pages long, or 28% of all pages.

Waterfall

The Waterfall arc (Chapters 23 to 28) is the longest arc wordcount-wise, making up another 25% of the story, coming in at 53.6 thousand words, and dead center when it comes to the number of chapters it makes up (which is 6). Looking at this now, litterally half this story takes place in Snowdin and Waterfall. Roughly one full day is spent in waterfall, from noon of the first day, to roughly late morning of the second. This arc took me 11 months to write/post, and if you read the notes for these corrisponding chapters, you can tell I was not having a good time during it. It’s 178 pages long, or 29% of all pages.

Hotland

The Hotland arc, (chapters 29 to 32) Is the shortest arc chapter-wise, with only 4 (10% of all chapters), and second shortest arc wordcount-wise, coming in at 36 thousand words, or about 18% of the story. It’s also the shortest in-story arc time-wise, seeing as you only spend about half a day here. I did not like writing the hotland arc! Mostly in part because Hotland is my least favorite region in the game. Chapter 32 is probably my least favorite out of all of what I’ve written. It was difficult figuring out what to do with Alphys and Mettaton, seeing as their interactions with you in game heavily focus on you and your human-ness. I am quite glad that each chapter was pretty neatly divided by in-game floors. It was a good way to know where a chapter could end and when I could give the characters some breathing room. It took me over a year to complete the Hotland arc, and most of that time was because I didn’t want to revise and edit what I wrote. It’s 123 pages long, or 20% of all pages.

New Home and Beyond

I don’t consider the True Lab part of Hotland because of in-game story reasons. You can’t access it until you’ve gone to New Home at least once, and once you enter it, you cant leave until you finish it, which, again, takes you to new home. Honestly, once you get to the true lab, you’ve won the game. There is no way to ruin your pacifist playthrough once you get to the lab, and while the amalgamates may kill you, you can’t “lose” once you get this far. That’s why I consider Chapter 33 the start of the New Home arc even though in my story we haven’t seen new home yet (mostly because there are no saves or resets in this story, so we kinda couldn’t have gone there first).

The New Home arc is the second shortest chapter-wise, making up the last 5 chapters (13% of all of them), and is dead-center when it comes to word count, finishing with 46.5 thousand words, or roughly the last 25%. I was actually really excited to write everything from chapter 34 to 36 after having been fantisizing about it in my head for the last two years. I gotta be honest, the end of chapter 37 gave me some trouble. I was still making edits up to a few days before it went public, but I think I got the feelings I wanted across~ It’s 161 pages long, or 26% of all pages.

Extra???

I started keeping a word file for bits of dialogue and scenes that I originally wrote in my spiral, but ultimately cut for one reason or another. Mostly these are just sentences and snippets that sounded redundant, ooc, or were just an alternate dialouge I decided not to use. I didn’t start doing this until chapter 28, according to my files, but according to the masterfile, there were 6.4 thousand words I ended up not using. 

There are, in fact, several bullet points I had originally planned and ended up not using, such as Sans ASKING Undyne to keep an eye on the kid while they were in waterfall, which sounded hypocritical after I wrote him coming to peace with them, as well as having Asgore tuoring the Underground that week, and thus Sans, Papyrus, Undyne and Alphys having to hide Frisk from him once they become friends. (the painkillers Alphys also gave frisk were actually supposed to induce drowsiness in Frisk, making them fall asleep so Alphys could keep them from going to New Home, but this was a point I dropped at the absolute last minute, and you can tell if you re-read chapter 29, because it’s hinted at, but the painkillers are never mentioned again. I figured that plot point was a little too dark for Alphys’ character)

Fun Fact: the zalgo text in Chapter 27 DOES actually have dialouge in it, if you know what to look for. Only one person has asked about it, but no one has yet to decifer it.

AT A GLANCE:

ARC LENGTHS (CHAPTER WISE) SHORTEST TO LONGEST

Hotland (4 Chapters)

New Home and Beyond (5 Chapters)

Waterfall (6 Chapters)

Snowdin (10 Chapters)

Ruins (12 Chapters)

ARC LENGTHS (WORDCOUNT WISE) SHORTEST TO LONGEST

Ruins (24k)

Hotland (36k)

New Home and Beyond (46.5k)

Snowdin (48k)

Waterfall (53.6k)

ARC LENGTHS (PAGE COUNT) SHORTEST TO LONGEST

(Same order as above)

TIME TAKEN TO WRITE/PUBLISH, SHORTEST TO LONGEST

Ruins (1 month)

Snowdin (4.5 months)

New Home and Beyond (~6 months)

Waterfall (11 months)

Hotland (>1 Year)

Other Numbers For Some Reason

Chapters 1 through 19 make up the 1st 50k words (this when Frisk falls into the underground, up to Sans attacking them in the kitchen) 19 chapters

Chapters 20 through 26 make up the 2nd 50k words (when Frisk decides to seek asgore’s help, to when Undyne cuts the bridge) 7 chapters

Chapters 27 through 31 make up the 3rd 50k words (when Frisk dislocates their shoulder to Flowey killing the messenger spider) 5 chapters

Chapters 32 through 37 make up the 4th 50k words (When Mettaton decides to change the programming, to Frisk’s final choice) 6 chapters

Only 5 chapters exceed 10k words, they are chapters 22, 27, 28, 33 and 36

Here’s a visual representation of all the chapters and their word counts in relation to one another. I was so startled by the spikes of chapter 22 and 28 that I had to go back and skim the chapters to remind myself what went down in them and why they were so long. Chapter 22 is papyrus trying to keep the human in snowdin while sans runs some errands, and then the human discovering the skelebro’s deceit. Chapter 28 is the human realizing Undyne tried to murder them, and then escaping from waterfall. I distinctly remembering saying I could have split chapter 28, but I was so tired of writing waterfall that I refused to do so because I just wanted it to end already.

I find it absolutely hilarious how consistant my word count was until chapter 20 (chapter 15 is an outliar), and then everything went off the rails.

Here’s a graph of the total word count, shown to you NaNoWriMo style~ (I spent way too long in excel making both of these charts, please validate me) 

The climb definitely looks a lot less drastic here, as it is always building on itself, but if you look closely, you can see one or two inflection points, roughly around chapter 20 and 28.

FINAL THOUGHTS

I’m so glad to finally be done with this story. It’s certainly deviated from what I originally planned, but I think all the changes are for the better. Now I can think about writing other things, like the PTA!AU shorts I’ve been meaning to do. It was fun and it was challenging, and this is literally the longest thing I’ve ever written in my life. Will I ever make a story this long again? Maybe?? If I ever encounter another game with as much character and worldbuilding as Undertale that also just hits me in the feels the same way, I might, but for now I’m going to focus on other projects (most of them still undertale related, but shut up)

Got any questions, comments, concerns for my fic? I’m so glad it’s done, now, and I’d be happy to talk about my thoughts behind it~

[swiss-cheeze]

Eye Contact

Chpt 2

(Walter Hartright x reader)

Chapter 1: https://snitchthewitch.tumblr.com/post/183626125940/eye-contact

(Find the rest on my wattpad @/cookiemonster1098765)

Walter walked his way slowly back to his allocated room in the mansion, the book splayed open in his palm as he read while walking, bumping into people or walls as he slowly go engrossed in the story. Arriving at his room Walter looked around and sighed, he had to now continue on his work with restoring those paintings, sighing heavily and with large distraught Walter placed a piece of twine in the margin keeping his place in the book he slowly started to get back on with some of the paintings, however, he still can’t get the image of (Y/n) out of his head. Grabbing the nearest sketch book and pencil Walter started sketching the servant girl, the small wisps of hair that fell from the tight bun on her head, the warm glow her bright (e/c) eyes brought to him, the small dimples in her cheeks from when she smiles widely. Soon enough Walter had a full page dedicated to (Y/n); close up drawings of her face, full body sketches of her in both the casual outfit she wore just a mere hour before as well as the servant outfit she had to wear daily. She looked just as beautiful in these drawings as she did in real life; but something was still missing. Walter waltzed across his room quickly and grabbed the coloured pencils he had stashed somewhere and came back to his sketch book and started filling in the two places that needed colour most: her hair and eyes. Walter started filling in every physical place on the page to the perfect colour, layering and adding colour after colour until it was just perfect.

On the other side of the mansion (Y/n) still had the rest of the day to kill until she had to retire to dinner; whenever any servant had a day off they still had to be there for dinner, Mr Fairlie declared it every time a new servant came to work. (Y/n) walked into the kitchen room and searched for Emeline, casting her eyes to the benches she finally spotted the red haired girl and started to walk over to her. Emeline soon looked up at the sound of (Y/n)’s shoes clicking against the tiled floor, a smile made its way to both of their mouths as (Y/n) sat down.

“I saw you with Mister Hart right” Emeline smiled coyly and bumped (Y/n)s shoulder, “are you going to tell or am I going to have to beat it from you” she asked with a grin, (Y/n) smiled and shook her head.

“By default my love” (Y/n) said using their favourite nickname for each other, “you won’t beat it from me, we both know I advance on you in that category” she said with a grin.

“Then tell!” Emeline said happily waving her arms around on ‘tell’.

“He is a dream” (Y/n) said softly with a watered gaze, “he’s very charming, a nice smile and a nice behind” she said with a snarky grin to Emeline who only cocked an eyebrow, “he stole my favourite book though!” (Y/n) said annoyed. Emeline snorted.

“What? He took A Tale of Two Cities from you?” Emeline asked with a grin, she knew how to get a rise out of (Y/n); who only in turn slightly shoved Emeline enough to lean against the seating part of the bench with a laugh.

“No you buffoon! He took Moby Dick, saying that if it intrigues me it’ll be likely to intrigue him” (Y/n) said as she placed her chin in her palm.

“Is that what he really said or did you faint when he touched your hand?” Emeline asked making (Y/n) roll her eyes.

“I asked you to shut it, I did not faint, it probably isn’t what he actually said; you know my memory Emeline. But even still my darling” (Y/n) sighed.

“Yes do go on” Emeline coaxed which only made (Y/n) hit her shoulder, “ouch!”

“You’ll be fine in an hour I’m sure” (Y/n) said with a grin before continuing her story, “I was sitting on my favourite bridge, reading and eating as you know” Emeline grinned, “when he suddenly called me saying ‘you should be careful sitting on bridges miss’, and obviously with a fright such as that you would jump too. If it hadn’t of been for him I would’ve fallen into the lake under the bridge!” she said throwing her arms up, “I was tempted to throw my apple at him I tell you dear” Emeline chuckled.

“But you didn’t” she said with a grin.

“Well obviously not, and then!” (Y/n) exclaimed almost jumping off the bench, “he asked if I was the ‘napkin girl’ from last night!”

“Oh yeah, you never did tell me about that little thing you two had at dinner last night” Emeline cut in, her chin now resting on her knuckles as (Y/n) waltzed and paced in front of her, (Y/n) sighed.

“I went to do something on the table and knocked off his napkin, I went down for it and went to give it back but he wouldn’t let go and then asked me why no one makes eye contact with the servants; so I told him. Obviously giving eye contact” (Y/n) said stopping in front of Emeline who seemed overly intrigued in the last sentence.

“So you will forever be known as the ‘napkin girl’ by Mister Hartright?” Emeline asked making (Y/n) groan and throw her head back.

“I hope to whoever is upstairs that I am not” (Y/n) said with exhaustion as she sat back onto the bench with a huff; Emeline’s hand coming to her lower back and rubbing calming circles.

“What’s his first name then? I’m going to assume that you got it” Emeline said with intrigue.

“Walter” (Y/n) said after a moment, “Walter Hartright” she said.

“Misses (Y/n) and Walter Hartright” Emeline said with a grin before going on, “Misses Emeline and Walter Hartright”, Emeline’s grin grew bigger.

“Oh no, you will do no such thing” (Y/n) said getting up and standing in front of Emeline, “we are both servants and only lord knows Walters rank in wherever, all we know is that he is here as a guest to help Miss Fairlie and Miss Holcombe with some water colour art lessons”

“What? I never got told he was giving lessons!” Emeline said standing up; making (Y/n) back away.

“That also doesn’t mean that you are going to go barging in on their lessons Emeline” (Y/n) said pointing a finger at the girl in front of her.

“Who is to say I will?” Emeline asked.

“Me because I know that glint in your eyes, Miss Emeline Glee I forbid you from intruding on the art lessons” (Y/n) said crossing her arms and taping her foot.

“You are not master (Y/n), you shall not stop me from a destiny I pursue” Emeline said as she picked up her skirts, “and now I must bid you goodbye because I am going back to work” she said and walked away heading for the bench to help prep vegetables. (Y/n) huffed and walked away in a flurry, down the stairs, through a few hallways and doorways before coming to the servant quarters.

“Her! Emeline and Walter!” (Y/n) said in a huff as she took her shoes off and sat at the edge of her bed, hands wringing together in her lap, “she wouldn’t, she would not. Walter is a nice person, Walter Hartright is a nice man who deserves a nice young lady who isn’t a servant, nor a book reader nor a servant nor someone with bright red messy hair like Emeline or (H/c) like mine” (Y/n) said in a hurry. She shook her head trying to wipe away the thoughts, “I shouldn’t even be thinking of this, Walter is a guest here to do a good duty and I am only here for mine, that is all, mere working people” she said under her breath.

“What was that dear?” a servant girl asked as she walked into the room; (Y/n) turned around quickly and smiled shaking her head.

“Nothing Miss Colter, just talking to myself about what must be done around the house tomorrow” (Y/n) said with a soft grin.

“Ah” came from the girl, “that is understandable Miss (L/n), there is much to do, apparently Mr Fairlie isn’t happy with how dirty this place has gotten he has told every servant tomorrow that no one is allowed off and that everyone must be doing some job to clean every place anyone can reach” she said fluffing the pillows on what must have been someone bed as she put down some clean laundry, most likely aprons or dresses (Y /n) thought internally.

“Well, just as well, a normal day I presume” (Y/n) said with a grin, Miss Colter nodded with a smile.

“Very, but do be careful” Miss Colter said as she stood up from the bed, “if someone important hears you talking to yourself, and it may be the wrong person; you could be sent to the mad house” she said, “and we defiantly wouldn’t want that with all of this Anne Catherick talk going on recently” she said with slight distaste as she gazed at the floor, her grin now forgotten.

“Yes, well” (Y/n) paused, “certain things may not be able to be helped at times I say” (Y/n) said, Miss Colter only looked up, gave a fake smile with a nod and left the room leaving (Y/n) to her own thoughts. Looking to the clock on the wall there was still some time left, (Y/n) hadn’t finished her walk from earlier; even if Walter stole her favourite book. Standing from the bed (Y/n) made her way to the exit of the building to begin her walk again.

Hours seemed to pass by quickly to both (Y/n) and Walter as each went on their own way in the day; but then came dinner time. Surprisingly everything went smoothly, along with stolen glances from (Y/n) and Walter and everything went by in a breeze, no smashed plates or glass or cutlery, even Emeline was surprised at that. Everyone had soon retired to the drawing room as servants cleared the table and cleaned the dishes, (Y/n) was just scraping some left overs of the turkey pie into the bin as someone walked into the kitchen.

“Is there a (Y/n) (L/n)?” they called, (Y/n)s head shot up as she put the plate to the side and put her hand up.

“T-that would be I sir” she said, the man looked to her, gave her a look up and down before nodding.

“Follow me” he said before walking away, (Y/n) looked around at the servants who had momentarily stopped their work to look at her, and she gave a shrug as Emeline was mentally asking why you were being called for being walking away in the direction of the caller. Keeping the same pace as the man who called her no words were spoken before the caller stopped and turned some big old oak doors, “through there” he said with an open palm before walking away. (Y/n) looked at the door quizzically, stepping forward and back wondering if she should actually go in or wait outside to be called.

“Were is that damn servant!” a muffled voice came from inside the room along with some heavy footsteps; not wanting to be hit or verbally yelled at (Y/n) quickly opened the door and stepped in quickly, all eyes fell on her as the door closed slowly behind her. Sir Percival was a few feet away from her, it looked like he was walking towards the door. (Y/n) stood still as she waited for her orders, “Finally, esteemed guests” Sir Percival said turning back to Laura, Marian and Walter “this is the servant girl I was telling you about” he said with a large grin.

“May I ask why I am here sir?” (Y/n) asked softly.

“To show us your wonderful piano skills!” Percival exclaimed with a throw of the arms and a large fake grin, “I was told by another servant and have heard it go around swiftly that you are rather good” he said matter-of-factly.

“Well, I couldn’t really compare myself to much, Miss Fairlie must be more level in the skill then I am” (Y/n) said with a small nervous grin making Laura go a little red.

“Nonsense, if my darling Laura here can do it then you can do it just as well!” Percival said; knowing she wouldn’t be able to get herself out of this even if she had a broken hand (Y/n) nodded and walked to the piano.

“Any specific requests?” she asked while pressing some gentle keys, getting into her ‘piano mind-set’ as told by Emeline.

“Für Elise” Walter announced quickly making heads turn to him quickly. He faltered, “Just a personal favourite don’t feel the need” he said, looking at (Y/n) for the last few words of the sentence. Even in the dim candle light Walter could still find the most beautiful lights and look glowing, like a true angel with piercing emerald eyes, sharp as a blade of grass and as harsh as a new paint stroke or musical note.

“Very well” Percival said waving to the girl in a motion of continuance, (Y/n) nodded and placed her nimble fingers on the correct keys before playing. The soft melody clashed in the air as Walter took a breath and his grip tightened on the glass in his hand as (Y/n)s fingers drifted across the keys.

“Did you know that Beethoven was infatuated with a student in his classes that he wrote this song for her” (Y/n) said as the music picked up fast paced, “but this part was made specifically so she could never play it, Beethoven wrote the girl this song and made it simple for her to play but when he found out she was to already be wedded he wrote the more complicated keys so she could never learn it” she said with confidence as the keys picked up again going to a darker and heavier tone; her focus coming back to her as she looked down at the keys and started fast again. The melody soon came to an end as (Y/n)s fingers stilled, the recipients in the room soon started clapping.

“That was beautiful (Y/n)” Marion said with a large grin. (Y/n) stood up from the chair and bowed with a smile.

“I have never heard such a melody played by someone” Walter said, his expression was near to nothing but his eyes told the whole story of adoration and love and admiration. A red tint covered (Y/n)s neck and face as she smiled softly.

“I am sure you have heard Miss Fairlie play before, her skills are impeccable and hard to even think I could be anything of the same or even near the same” (Y/n) said quickly.

“While Miss Fairlie’s playing is beautiful” Walter said looking to the girl before turning to look at (Y/n) again, “in my perspective I believe you to be one of the absolute best, even better then Beethoven” he said with a large smile. (Y/n) bowed politely.

“May I take my leave?” (Y/n) asked looking to Percival.

“Yes take it, head back to your quarters before curfew, if we want anyone more to play I’m sure Laura wouldn’t mind too much” Percival said with a crooked grin to Laura who only avoided his eyes. (Y/n) nodded.

“G-goodnight sir” (Y/n) said to Percival who only waved a hand, “goodnight misses” she said again to Laura and Marian, “Goodnight Mister Hartright” (Y/n) said with a soft smile, Walter nodded with a smile mouthing a small ‘goodnight’ before (Y/n) quickly took her leave and retired to her bed for a well-rested sleep.

Walter and the rest of the group followed in their retirement to their respective bedrooms; both (Y/n) and Walter couldn’t wipe off the smiles from their faces as they both fell into a deep slumber.

[today-only-happens-once]

Family

Title: Family

Word Count: 3675

Summary: for asofterfan’s Punk!AU. Patton is protective of his little brother, Thomas. ““Pat,” Virgil says in a low voice as he steps closer, alarm twisting his stomach. “Are you hurt?””. Platonic/familial dynamics all around.

Warnings: discussion of violence, injury (lots of bruising mostly), cursing (more than normal in my fics…Punk!Logan curses a lot okay), mention/hints at abuse and neglect, nausea mention, some angst/hurt/comfort, let me know if I forgot anything else.

Author’s Note: Long AN is long, sorry - Behold, the fic that caused me tremendous self-doubt and second-guessing. I am in love with @asofterfan’s Punk!AU. (Special thanks to them for letting me and others create within the context of this awesome AU) I tried to do as much research through their headcanons and art as I could, but I’m sure there are inaccuracies. This will also inevitably pale in comparison to the development of their AU so please check it out if you haven’t because it’s awesome. I kinda wanted to explore Patton’s relationship with Thomas a bit but also the Analogical dynamic and this is what happened. Yikes. The self-doubt and writing insecurity never really went away with this fic (can you tell from how I’ve been rambling?) but like might as well post it, yeah? No? *drops this here and then sprints far away*

Also, editing done by yours truly so all mistakes are mine and mine alone.

Tags: @creativenostalgiastuff, @helloisthisusernametaken, @ren-allen, @lizaelsparrow, @princelogical, @random-pianist, @ravenclawicecream, @erlenmeyertrash, @milomeepit, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @rileyfirstname, @pinkeasteregg, @sassy-in-glasses, @vigilantvirgil, @generalfandomfabulousness, @lacrimosathedark, @thepoolofthedead, @monikastec, @heir-of-the-founders, @yourworstnightmare999

…

Virgil shakes the can of spray paint as he surveys the brick wall in front of him. He has the image in his mind of the final product, but it always takes him a moment’s pause to figure out where exactly to start. A light, late afternoon breeze tugs at the loose strands of his hair. Logan sits on the ground in the alley with a book in his lap, his back against the wall and one knee propped up.

He turns the page, then glances up at Virgil. “It helps if you actually, y’know, use the spray paint.”

The corner of Virgil’s mouth twitches. “You don’t say?” he quips dryly.“You know, you said you’d keep a look out for me.” He looks at the wall a moment longer before beginning. The hiss of the canister cuts through the sound of birds chirping and tires rolling on pavement as cars passed by, oblivious to the two teens deeper in the alley.

“And I am,” Logan replies. His gaze narrows at the page for a moment before looking back at Virgil. “Although I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. Nobody around here cares much about artists painting on the walls unless they’re police, and those guys don’t really do much around here. There’s about a 99% nobody’s going to even notice us, let alone care to do anything about it. ”

“Yeah, but with my luck?” Virgil sprays another line. “I don’t love those odds.”

Logan smirks and flips the page. He brushes a strand of blue hair out of his eyes. Virgil eyes the book in his lap as he grabs a different color and resumes painting. He coats the red brick in a glistening dark black streak. “What are you even reading?”

Logan glances up, adjusting the frame of his glasses. “Judith Butler’s Bodies That Matter. It expands on the gender performativity argument she proposed in Gender Trouble.”

Virgil arcs a skeptical eyebrow at his friend. “You’re reading advanced gender theory? For fun?”

“Nothing is binary and everything is gay,” Logan replies with a lift of his shoulder. “They want proof? This book offers it, or tries to. At least, the binary part. I’m still reading.”

Virgil continues working, hesitating less between lines as the image starts to take form. Distantly, the wail of police sirens cut through the air; it’s too far away for either of the punks to even look up.  For a while, the only sound between them is the hiss of Virgil’s spray paint cans and Logan turning pages. The sound of footsteps makes both boys pause, but as they glance down the alley to the street, the two girls walking by don’t even glance in their direction.

Virgil doesn’t usually tag in broad daylight. But he was trying a new design that he wanted to see in daylight, and sketching it out over and over only made him feel most antsy about finding out what it would actually look like. Before he placed it anywhere that would actually get noticed, Virgil wanted to make sure he knew what he was doing with it. And even though a part of him was more on edge due to the fact that the possibility of him getting caught was higher without the cover of dark, his shaking hands stilled as soon as he’d begun. He supposes art was funny like that sometimes.

It’s almost an hour later when Virgil takes a few steps back and surveys his own work. Logan looks up at him for a moment before marking the page and jumping to his feet to stand by Virgil.

Virgil purses his lips, his gaze narrowing. “That line isn’t straight,” he says, pointing it out to Logan. “It curves a bit to the left.”

“So? I’m never straight,” Logan replies, almost deadpan save for the slight smirk that pulls at the corner of his lips. “It looks good, Virge.”

Virgil is quiet, then reaches for the canister at his feet. “I’m just gonna fix one thing.” He steps back up to the wall, adding a few strokes of the purple to add some dimension where Virgil felt it was lacking. “Hey,” he says as he works, “Logan?” He tries to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

“Hm?”

“Mind if I maybe crash at your place tonight?” he asks without turning around. He can never look Logan in the eyes when he asks, and he hates how often he does so. But last night had been… rough, to say the least. He had a feeling that Logan had seen the bruise on his arm during lunch, even though the teen had tried to keep his sleeves pulled down.

“C’mon,” Logan says. “You know you don’t need to ask.”

…

By the time the two boys get back to Logan’s house, it’s almost five. The sun is low in the sky, just about ready to set. Logan’s driveway sits empty, as usual, as they get closer. It’s not until they’re walking up the driveway when they notice someone sitting on the front steps of his porch.

Logan and Virgil share a glance as they get closer. The familiar head of pastel blue-purple-pink hair is leaned back against the railing, his eyes closed.

“Patton?”

At the sound of his name, Patton opens his eyes.

“Hey, Logan,” he says, his voice sounding oddly strained. Virgil looks at him closer, and notices the way the pastel punk has his arm wrapped around his chest. The way he’s curled in on himself a little. Something is wrong.

“Patton, don’t take this the wrong way but what are you doing here?” Logan asks.

“I, uh…” Patton gives them a pained smile that looks a lot more like a grimace. “I need your help.”

“Pat,” Virgil says in a low voice as he steps closer, alarm twisting his stomach. “Are you hurt?”

“I… yeah.” Logan is already unlocking the door, but his gaze flashes back to them at the answer. Virgil wraps Patton’s arm around his shoulders. He winces as Virgil—who is being as gentle as he can—pulls him to his feet.

“What the hell happened?” Logan demands as Virgil helps Patton inside. His brown eyes are practically blazing with fury. It’s not that Logan isn’t used to patching people up. Usually himself or Virgil after a late night call. (They were both used to that particular arrangement, Virgil thinks with a bitter taste in his mouth.)

But Patton is an entirely different story. Everybody loved him; and if you didn’t love him, then you had done something to get on his bad side and you were afraid of him. Patton was almost a perpetually warm person, sincere and well-meaning even if his love and affection could feel like a bit… much, at times.

Logan may have the sharper temper, but Virgil can feel his own anger bubbling in his chest as the reality that someone had hurt Patton sinks into him.

“I’m sorry,” Patton is saying quietly as they make their way up the stairs. “I didn’t mean to bother you guys, I just…”

“Shut up, Pat,” Virgil tells him, but not harshly. “You don’t have to talk about it unless you want to.”

“Take him to my room,” Logan says. “I’m gonna grab the first aid kit.” Virgil nods his understanding and leads Patton to the door at the end of the hallway.

Virgil flips the light switch as they enter Logan’s bedroom. The room admittedly helps ease some of the uneasiness in Virgil’s stomach. Logan’s room—with its dark blues and blacks on the walls and bedding—always felt safe to Virgil. The teen smiles faintly to himself at his stuffed turtle John and Logan’s octopus Tsugarensis sitting side by side amidst the pillows near the headboard. Bottles of hair dye sit on his desk.

Patton is quiet as he sits down on the edge of the bed, glancing around the room. He catches Patton’s quiet hiss as Virgil extracts himself out from under the other punk’s arm. He notices then that Patton’s hands are bruised, the knuckles split. The teen also has a dark bruise forming along his cheekbone.

Virgil shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. He’s used to the one being hurt. It’s not often that he finds himself on the other side of the situation, and if he’s being honest, he hates it. It’s tying his stomach in knots despite the familiarity and vague sense of safety Logan’s room provided.

“I’m sorry, Virge,” Patton says softly, staring at his hands in his lap. “My mom isn’t home and I didn’t want to scare Thomas. But I needed help and I wasn’t sure where else to go, and Logan lived closer, so...”

Logan interrupts the conversation as he comes into the room with a box in his hands. “Patton, you’re gonna need to take off the vest at least.” There’s a surprising and rare gentleness in the request that Virgil has only ever hear Logan use when Virgil had been injured.

Patton nods, then hesitates. He sucks in a bit of a breath before shrugging out of the turquoise garment. Virgil bites his thumbnail, watching the way Patton clenches his jaw against a wince. Logan glances at the pastel punk out of the corner of his eye, setting the box on the bed beside Patton and kneeling in front of him.

The unasked questions hang heavy in the air of the bedroom. Virgil wants to ask what happened, but he is too well acquainted with injuries one would rather not talk about to force that kind of conversation on Patton. From the subtle glances Logan keeps tossing to him, he’s pretty sure the blue-haired teen feels the same way.

“Can you raise your shirt, Pat?”

Patton presses his lips together, not answering at first. Slowly, he reaches for the hem of his shirt and—visibly gritting his teeth—pulls it up and over his head. He averts his gaze as he sets his shirt beside him.

The sight of Patton’s chest is one Virgil is too well-acquainted with, but seeing it on Patton makes a faint nausea rise in Virgil’s throat before he swallows it down. Across his ribcage is a brilliant—painful—smattering of purple, yellow, and a very angry red. Something that looks suspiciously like a footprint marks his right side. Logan goes suddenly very still for a moment, his eyes widening ever so slightly.

Patton swallows. He offers a weak smile, even though he isn’t looking at either one of them. “Is this where I say ‘you should see the other guys’?”

Guys plural? Virgil thinks, anger sparking all over again in his chest.

“You’re damn right,” Logan replies, his voice deceptively even. “If not after you, then after me.” He looks up at Patton, who still won’t meet his eyes. “Is anything broken?”

“I don’t… I’m not sure,” Patton whispers.

Logan nods stiffly. “Then this might hurt.” Gingerly, he starts prodding around Patton’s chest. Feeling for any broken ribs. Virgil winces in sympathy as Patton sucks in a sharp hiss.

“It was because of Thomas,” Patton says after a long moment of silence, as Logan continues to press around his chest.

Virgil’s gaze flies up. “Thomas did this?” That definitely didn’t make sense. Thomas and Patton adored each other.

“No, no, no!” Patton says quickly. “I…” He sighs, some strands of his pastel hair falling into his eyes. “Thomas has been struggling with some kids in school. This morning when I went to get him up, he yelled at me. I don’t even remember what about. He’d… never yelled at me before. But I told him he had to go to school. He said I…” Patton cuts himself off suddenly, shaking his head. Virgil’s brow pulls together at the unfinished thought, but Logan cuts in before he can ask about it.

“Well, shit, Pat,” Logan replies, pulling his hands back from Patton’s torso. “You could’ve told us. We would’ve backed you up.” He pulls the wrapping off the bandage.

Patton lifts a shoulder. “I didn’t even know. He didn’t tell me what was happening. I waited for him for a while after school but when he didn’t show up, I went looking for him. Found him cornered by a few guys who had him shoved up against the locker.”

Virgil’s brow furrows together. As bubbly and warm as Patton was, one thing you did not do was mess with someone he cared about. Especially his little brother. “You and Thomas fought some guys?”

Patton shakes his head. “I got their attention, and told Thomas to get out of there. He didn’t exactly want to, but he knows I would’ve kicked his ass harder if he’d stuck around. Thomas isn’t much of a fighter.” Patton’s hands curl into fists on his knees. Virgil isn’t sure if it’s in anger or something else.

Logan secures a bandage over the pastel punk’s ribs. “No offense, Patton,” he says, “but you’re hardly the most likely one to throw a punch yourself.” He glances at the bruised and split knuckles along the other teen’s hands.

Patton looks at them too, relaxing his fists and flexing his hand before wincing. “Yeah, well. That wasn’t exactly my intention either.”

Logan takes his hand, cleaning up the abrasions along his knuckles before wrapping them. “You had your knife with you, at least?”

Patton glances up. “You know I don’t bring it with me to school.”

Virgil’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he fishes it out and checks the ID. It’s a text from Roman.

Have u seen Pat?

The purple-haired teen sighs to himself and texts back. Yeah. He’s at Logans. Why?

R: Thomas just called me. He seemed worried bc Patton didn’t come home.

Thomas had recently gotten involved in theatre alongside Roman in the second half of his freshman year. Roman had given Patton’s little brother his number in case he needed a ride to rehearsal.

The phone buzzes again. U know what happened?

Long story. Just tell him Pat’s safe and with Logan, Virgil texts back quickly.  

R: Thomas said he might be hurt???

Virgil hesitates a second before replying. Yeah. He is. I’ll explain later. Virgil pockets his phone and ignores it when it buzzes again. He knows Roman is already plotting revenge, and Virgil isn’t too far behind him, but he has bigger priorities at the moment.

He can see Patton’s jaw jump. He hears how shaky the pastel punk’s long inhale is, even though he tries to cover it with a cough and a smile.

“Hey, uh, Logan?” Patton asks as Logan finishes securing the bandage in place.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” Patton flexes his grip and finally locks gazes with the blue-haired teen. “You’re good at this.”

Logan and Virgil exchange a quick glance that Patton doesn’t seem to notice before the teen shrugs. “Don’t mention it.”

There’s a moment of silence before Patton sighs again, and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I just can’t believe Thomas didn’t tell me.”

Virgil slips his hands into his pockets. He leans back against the edge of Logan’s desk. “Maybe he thought he could take care of it himself.”

Patton runs his fingers through his pastel hair to brush it out of his face. He looks unconvinced. “It’s just… I was always supposed to look out for him, y’know?”

Logan sits back on his heels. “The kid’s not so little anymore, Patton,” he says, but not unkindly. “You’re gonna graduate in a few months, and Thomas is gonna have to know how to fight his own battles. Even when he gets in over his head.”

Virgil snorts. “Oh, he definitely will. Kid’s got a bit a rebellious streak in him, I swear. We’re rubbing off on him. In a few years I bet he gives you a run for your money, Logan.”

Logan jokingly puffs his chest out. “Good! Somebody’s gotta call the teachers out on their whitewashing of history when I leave.”

Patton groans, but a small smile is tugging at the corner of his lips. “Great. So my brother is gonna get into even more fights.” His tone is light, but the real concern leaks through regardless.

Logan pushes himself to his feet and crosses his arms over his chest. “So we’ll teach him how to defend himself before we all go our separate ways.”

Something falls in Patton’s eyes at Logan’s words. He opens his mouth to reply, then closes it. Virgil’s gaze narrows as Patton clasps his hands together, seeming to rethink what he’d been about to say.

“Yeah,” he says. “Sure. That… That’d be great.”

Virgil frowns, opening his mouth to ask what was wrong when Patton’s phone buzzes loudly. The teen grabs it out of the back pocket of his jeans and cringes as he answers. “Hey, Thomas. I’m okay.”

Logan closes the first aid kit and steps out into the hallway. Virgil follows him, wanting to give Patton a moment alone on the phone with his brother. Logan heads straight for the bathroom, sliding the kit under the sink before turning to face the purple-haired punk. 

Logan blows out a breath. The spark of fury is back in his eyes. “God damn it.”

“I know,” Virgil says. “But you know Pat got in his fair share of punches.”

Logan’s eyes glance up to the teen across from him. “C’mon, Virge. You saw the same damage I did. That wasn’t a fair fight.”

The corner of Virgil’s mouth twitches humorlessly. “When has anything in our lives ever been a fair fight, Lo?”

“They’re cowards.”

“Yeah,” Virgil agrees. “But Patton’s not.”

Logan opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of the bedroom door opening makes him close it.

“Guys?” Patton asks.

Logan steps out of the bathroom. “Yeah?”

“Thomas is kind of freaking out,” Patton says, his shirt and vest back on, waving the phone in his hands. “I should probably get home before it gets worse. But, uh,” he smiles, awkward and embarrassed. “Thanks, again. For helping me out.”

“Sure. You might want to get some ice on that,” Logan tells him, gesturing at Patton’s chest. “I don’t think anything is broken but it’s still gonna hurt for a while.”

His smile softens into something a bit more sincere, and also a bit sad. “Yeah. I will.” He’s about halfway down the stairs when he stops and looks back at the two of them. “I’ll see you guys at school?”

“Yeah,” Virgil answers for them. “We’ll be there.”

“To beat up some guys if they so much as show their faces,” Logan adds under his breath.

“We might have to wait in line once Roman finds out,” Virgil replies just as quietly. When Patton grins, Virgil can’t quite tell if he heard them or not.

“Don’t know what I’d do without all of you guys,” Patton says, and then he’s down the stairs and out the door.

Virgil smiles a little to himself as the door closes behind him. Logan leans against the wall in the hallway, his eyes still looking at the door Patton had just walked out of. “You think Thomas knows?”

Virgil lifts an eyebrow at the other teen before letting his gaze fall back to the closed door as well. “That Patton would go to hell and back for him? I’m not sure, but I’d bet so.”

The corner of the blue-haired teen’s mouth curls up in something between a smirk and a smile. “I guess Thomas and Pat are kinda like us, huh?”

Logan says it lightly, but there’s a certain weight to his words. Virgil locks gazes with him, expressing the unspoken truth that Virgil would absolutely go to hell and back for Logan. He’d go to hell and stay there for Logan.

For any of them.

And he knows, as much as he sometimes thinks it shouldn’t be true, that they all feel the same way.

Virgil shrugs a shoulder and plays it off as soon as he knows Logan understands. “What? One big happy family?”

There’s a subtle earnestness in Logan’s eyes that catches Virgil off guard. “Sure. Why not?” Logan says. “You know. You, me, Roman, Patton. Hell, even Thomas is practically all of our kid brother at this point.”

Logan pushes himself off the wall, his voice just a little quieter as he continues.

“I don’t know what it’s really like to be part of a not fucked-up family, but I’d guess this is pretty damn close.”

….

[paperish-main]

Sarah J Maas Transcript (1/3)

Finished this last night and posting it before I go to a fair!

This is a transcript for the parts I recorder of the Manchester Sarah J Maas event. The video just isn’t working with me, so here. The visuals weren’t good anyways xD. I didn’t record from the start, heads-up. Also, I wouldn’t super-analyse every word she says because, again, she was talking on stage and that won’t translate smoothly to a write up. There were a lot of ‘uh’s and ‘like’s that I cut out and a lot more laughing.

UPDATE: Next one has been posted!

SJM: I’ve said before, so I can say it now: the wall scene… is in this book [laughs as audience screams]. I had a lot of fun writing writng that – um, if you don’t know what I’m talking about –

Charlie Bowater: Where have you been?

SJM: (laughs) I hope for the parents that have no idea what I’m talking about… you don’t wanna know. [audience laughter]. A Court of Frost and Starlight – ACOFAS, or ACOfaus as you Brits would say – that’s coming out in May.

Talking about the planning of things – with these novellas, I always wanted them to be something you had to read before the last Throne of Glass book. So I knew some big, big things that would go on in this, but then when I wrote it there were actually some surprises – and again, no spoilers – that I didn’t see coming, and they were actually things that I had planted the seeds for earlier in the books. Then I got to this moment and I had this idea and I literally looked back – combed through the books – and I was like, holy. Effing. Shit.

[audience laughter]

And it sounds kind of insane – like, I’m the writer, I’m in control of this world but then my subconcious does plant things and does it throughout the books… only it will take me five books to realise what my mind has been telling me I’m going on this whole time. And I live for moments like that, when it literally feels like magic. So this book was a combination of very intense planning and then “Surprise!” things that blew my mind.

I know it sounds so weird, because it should all be up here, but when it aligns it’s a bit like a solar eclipse. [She laughs with the audience] I’m so cheesy, I know.

Interviewer: So you briefly mentioned ACOTAR before and, of course, A Court of Wings and Ruin was out this year. What was it like to wrap up – well, not completely wrap up – that arc of Feyre and Rhy’s story?

Sarah J Maas: I mean, I knew… I knew there were going to be these spin-off books coming out and I didn’t have to say goobye, and those spin-off books were actually because before I started writing ACOWAR, I got really bummed out that the series would end after three books –

Interviewer: We were all, too.

Sarah J Maas: (laughs) I was literally like, this isn’t enough time with the Inner Circle – especially the Illyrian warriors and their wingspans. [audience cheers]. Can I tell you guys this random story? On my US tour for Tower of Dawn, this girl came up during the signing and she was about fourteen years old and she was wearing this t-shirt that said “it’s all about the winspan”. [audience laughs] I was like, oh my god, your shirt is amazing.

And she went, let me show you the back … and she turned around and it had a pair of wings with a ruler [gasps mixed with laughter] underneath. I was like, does your mother know what you’re wearing? And she was like, (smug voice) no. I went, you’re my hero. I want to be your friend.

[more laughter]

So, I was bummed that this world and this series were ending and just for fun I began writing what happens after ACOWAR… and I would up writing about two-hundred and fifty pages of about what will be the first full spin-off book, which I cannot tell you yet what it will be about. When you read ACOFAS in spring, you’ll know what it’ll be about for sure.

And then I wrote probably the first half of ACOFAS which mostly just started off as a bunch of smut scenes [laughter] just for fun –

Charlie Bowater: Just for warm up.

Sarah J Maas: Just to warm up, get my heart pumpin’ a bit (laughs). And then I really started to look ahead to what happens to these characters after ACOWAR and I realised that I wanted to really, really write those stories. These characters had more to do and to say and to grow. And it actually helped me write ACOWAR, because I was able to plant seeds in ACOWAR for all the fun stuff that’s coming in these spin-off books.

So in some ways, it was still very emotional for me to write ACOWAR – it’s very emotional for me to write every book, really. I definitely sobbed when I wrote the last scene between Feyre and Rhys, but I also knew like, the gang is coming back!

Like, ask me this question when I write the last book of that series but – will I ever close the door? To any of these worlds? I don’t think so. I don’t know. I have separation anxiety, you guys [laughter]

Interviewer: That’s a good sign! So Charlie, you contributed a lot to the ACOTAR colouring book and the Throne of Glass colouring book, as well as your incredible drawings of the Inner Circle, which hopefully some of you guys have seen. What is like kind of drawing from those characters and – do you visualise what they look like in your head or do you just sort of follow your pencil?

Charlie Bowater: (started to raise her miscrophone before the interviewer was finished) I just have to say, I can’t take credit for the throne of glass colouring book because I didn’t do anything there.

Interviewer: Oh, sorry!

SJM: You were their in spirit.

CB: It was a very interesting process because, obviously, I’ve read the books inside-out, back-to-front, multiple times. And so, clearly I’ve got this strong image in my head of how I picture it and it was just like this really nice, collaborative process where I got to work with Sarah and Bloomsbury. They kind of put forward the scenes that they wanted included in the colouring book, and it was kind of up to me how I sketched it – how I imagined it, how I pictured the scene – and that was really collaborative and not like, this is the scene. Draw it.

I think I was originally supposed to draw eight scenes for the book, and end up drawing… I think it was 19? [audience laughs] I think, by the end. So it just kept going and going and going and going… and I will always remember the day that I found out – or rather, the day that I was asked if I wanted to work on the colouring book.

I was in a club in London – which doesn’t happen very often, by the way, I’m usually at home reading [laughter] – and I read the email and I literally just had to scream in this toilet cubicle just because I was so psyched about working on the book. And just in general, these books and Sarah have… changed my life. It was amazing to work on it.

Interviewer: You guys are the dream team. It must be said.

SJM: You were so – like, easy to work with on the coloruing book? All the other artists were great, but Charlie was… I feel like I never had of send you any real notes. Not to bad-mouth any of the other artists because they’re very, very talented but, like I don’t think some were… (struggles) fans of the… books? Just they way that, like –

CB: I think that’s the biggest difference between me working on this work for different books and series and like all this stuff, but there’s this special kind of magic when you get to do it for a series you love and you already know and you’ve got those feelings to work with, rather than doing it from a blanck slate. It’s like, you’ve got the passion for it already.

SJM: You were like – you were like a dream. Like, one of the artists was actually pretty sick. She fell pretty ill at one point and literally couldn’t get to some of the drawings, and like, we asked Charlie, is it too many drawings at this point? And she just, knocked it out of the park.

And there were some drawing where the other illustrators, again, very talented, but they didn’t like… get it? They didn’t quite get the placement of the characters and the emotion in the scene.

One of them was like, the cauldron scene – Nesta coming out of the cauldron – and like, I can’t tell you how many drafts we went through with one of the artists on that scene and I was like no, no, no – not to sound like a diva. I was pretty involved in the process where, from the very start, I worked with bloomsbury to select all the scenes and we sent the artist who was in each scene and what each scene should include, and they would send us the sketches, and we would give feedback.

I had phone calls with my editor every day about the sketches. The poor UPS man came to my house, like, non-stop delivering new batches of artwork. It was like this really, really intense process but with this one scene this artist just didn’t get it – didn’t get what was going on, the body positioning. Then we sent it over to Charlie and like, one sketch. Done.

[laughter] It was like a mic drop, holy shit. You just… get it.

CB: Thank you.

Sarah J Maas: Like, your artwork is just… so amazing. My phone back screen is one of the earliest pieces of Feyre-Rhys fan art that you ever did with them. She’s in the dress that she… wears on the ACOWAR cover. I don’t know if you guys know this, but the dress on the cover of ACOWAR – Charlie designed that dress.

When we made the cover for ACOWAR, they were like what dress should we put her in? And I was like, there was only one dress. [laughter] There’s only one dress that Charlie designed.

CB: That meant a lot to me.

Sarah J Maas: And we’re still grateful that you allowed us to use your concept. And I’m just, like (laughs) the biggest fangirl. You did this modern Sailor Moon piece – it was like – I loved it.

CB: (points to herself) Love Sailor Moon!

That’s Part One out of Two for the first big video. After this she talks about her Grandmother’s pretty inspirational story about growing up and WW2 as a Jew, which I’ll probably write up. Then, she goes back to talking about the books. Those videos are short enough to post, so I’ll do it now.