#in that case ill just post the sketches an finish them over time

[hellhathfrozethoverthinking]

★✰★✰★✰★

[lhaewiel]

So.

Previously on my "The Untamed/MDZS Ice Skating AU".

Unfortunately for y'all I have not finished talking about it. as always, a big thank you to @galaxy-darkmoon for giving me rope, and also @the-nonchalance-blogs for giving me the idea in the first place.

We left things at the double divorce JFM/YZY and JGS/Madam Jin.

At this point in time the other players step in. I will start with the WangXian and continue on with the SangCheng part.

I will do the XiYao drama in the next post cos this is already way too long and I need to think.

Anyway, enjoy. Under the cut

THE WANGXIAN DRAMA

Now, WWX is still competing and training under freshly divorced JFM as a solo - and possibly the star of the Jiang rink. A lot of people and journalists have a lot of things to say about the Choices™(C) made by JFM, but WWX's skills and prowess and several silver and gold medals on his rack, plus several trophies won jot all of that down.

Enter the Lans. The Lans are an extremely traditionalist family of ice skaters, who only skate with classical/traditional music and that has become through the years their trademark.

LQR, the coach and also LXC and LWJ's uncle, after the untimely disappearance of the parents, and the two brothers have trained a lot - LXC is already in the seniors category, whilst LWJ is still in the juniors category.

It's time for regional championship and WWX is also competing.

And it's clichè, but it is love at first ina bauer and toe loop for both WWX and LWJ. They both score first and whilst JFM and LQR are already down to throw hands for the gold medal, WWX blurts out a "why don't we share? we are both really good, so why don't we share the podium." This all whilst being the usual feral gremlin. LWJ is like, "no, it's not in the rules", but LXC is like "uncle, that's a really good suggestion" and LQR is at an inch from losing it, JFM deals the final blow like "you heard WWX, come on! let's praise them both!" and LQR concedes.

JC has seen the thing and he is at the "this might as well happen" point and just leaves the rink where he was watching WWX without a word. I will come back on this in just a moment.

LQR anyway invites WWX at the Gusu rink to train, stuff that happens once every blue moon, and JFM is like "yes, that is my son" "Uncle Jiang I am not your son" "Details, just go." "Ok, let me say goodbye to people."

And by "people" he means JC and Yanli, who were there to watch him compete.

Yanli congratulates him and says that JC is outside.

WWX goes to JC, who has had A Day™ and is just like "congrats, if it had been me at your place my father would have preferred to give up the position rather than have me share the podium" "Aw you know he doesn't mean that. I know you are as good as me and one day he will see that." "well, good luck then, I have stopped competing, say that to Father™"

More drama.

More misunderstanding.

JC goes back home, packs up and rents a flat near the Nie rink. He takes the position as ice skating teacher for kids over there and tries finding some sort of peace, whilst still aching over the above mentioned drama.

WWX goes to Gusu with the ache of having lost a brother completely and yes, being close to LWJ does make him feel better, but he still misses greatly his family.

Anyway the national championships approach and eventually WWX and LWJ change into a pair, become an item and end up skating into the sunset over wangxian.mp3, break several rules, get disqualified and then LQR and JFM, pressed by LXC, make an appeal and get the commission to accept them.

WWX and LWJ skating off into the sunset inspired by this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kpp5XKiQqBE

THE SANGCHENG DRAMA

I said that JC stops competing, goes away from YZY's rink, rents a flat and goes teaching ice skating to kids at the Nie rink.

Now, the Nie have a team of hockey players. NMJ is the coach, NZH is the captain and NHS should technically be on the team as well, but he'd rather pull out paper and pencil and sketch out the things that interest him the most, birds most notably. NHS has an extensive collection of fans as well.

NMJ is fuming bc NHS has the capability and the potential to be the perfect ice hockey player, but he'd rather just NOT participate in that. NMJ has unfortunately a chronical illness and knows he can't be forever there, he would LOVE for his brother to inherit the team, but he has not said anything about his chronical illness to NHS thinking that if he did maybe NHS would feel too much pressured. He does not know that NHS knows about the chronical illness and is the one making sure that NMJ takes his medications.

In any case, when JC starts teaching, NHS is fascinated. He watches JC gracefully glide on the ice and be generally the Ice Price Of His Dreams, If Not For The Aggressiveness, but considering that also NMJ Tends To Be That Way Too, NHS assumes that there is some turmoil going on and makes it his mission to uncover All Of That™.

THat and also NHS really enjoys drawing JC gliding gracefully on the ice - too bad JC discovers this and also NMJ is VERY perceptive, but NOT subtle at all, so when NMJ says "HUAISANG COME AND PLAY!" "One sec bro, I have to finish something" "STOP LOOKING AT THE TEACHER'S ASS AND COME HERE NOW OR I WILL BURN YOUR FANS." "... Thank you bro for destroying any chance I had."

Awkwardness ensues.

JC is unfortunately very direct and does not beat around the bush. NHS confesses. JC is in a mystic crisis bc "OMG someone likes ME, the CRANKIEST and ANGRIEST man on earth." NHS takes a step back and notes, in his 35 steps plan on how to court and conquer JC that he needs to make him understand that "the greatest thing you'll ever learn is to love and be loved in return".

It takes NHS to step in to win a game, whilst NMJ is in the hospital bc the chronic illness is too much to bear, JC taking NHS to the hospital to see NMJ alive and slightly better, NMJ's blessing to NHS and JC and NHS throwing himself onto JC after NMJ is asleep bc THE PRESSURE, THE WORRY, THE CONCERN, and JC says that he will be there and NHS wanted to be the conquering one, but he ends up conquered by the heart of gold of JC.

JC reveals all about his family and NHS convinces him to reconcile, if not with his parents, with WWX and Yanli. Things work out bc HS is great at mediating and JC is genuinely touched by him.

WWX and Yanli tell JC to go for it, bc it is clear that there is some sort of sentiment, thus forcing JC to sort himself out.

JC sorts his feelings out and declares his love to NHS by performing a choreography on "Nature Boy" by David Bowie.

See you next time with the XiYao and Xuanli part.

[fanfic-collection]

Loki x Reader: Quarantine

Please comment

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‘And this is Captain America, signing off, reminding everyone once again, stay safe, stay strong, and stay true to America. Please, buy only what is necessary, if you’re quarantined, stay home for the assigned days, get a lot of rest if you’re sick, take the necessary precautions, and we’ll get through this, we always do.’ Steve smiled, saluting the camera on his laptop then looked at Bucky.

Bucky gave a tired thumbs up.

'Signing off, I’ll see you all tomorrow.’ Steve clicked the end transmission button and the feed ended. 'That was really good Bucky, I really think we’re making a difference, I hope we can keep people calm in this trying times.’

Bucky raised his eyebrow and leaned back in the seat groaning as he covered his face, 'Are you seriously going to drag me through these podcasts every day?’

Steve stood up and stretched, 'Until the quarantine ends, it’s the least we can do for the public, so yes, yes I am.’

You snorted into your vitamin enhanced energy drink, watching the two super soldiers across the counter.

'Don’t start.’ Bucky muttered, looking at you, raising a warning finger.

You set down your glass and held up your hands defensively, 'Not a word.’

'It’s day two and I’m stir crazy already.’ Bucky groaned, running his hand through his hair as he stood up and began to pace.

The big screen turned on and Tony appeared, poolside with a margarita in hand, shades halfway down his nose as he squinted at his phone to see the three of you in the kitchen. 'Cap! Other soldier, teddy bear.’

'Why does he call you teddy bear again?’ Bucky asked, glancing at you.

You sighed and shook your head. The automatic kitchen doors slid open and the two norse gods walked, mid conversation, stopping only when they saw Tony on the monitor.

'Oh excellent,’ Tony continued, 'thunder bros, anyways, Steve, loved the pep talk, my stocks stopped their nose dive, they’re still dropping but not nearly as bad, I heard one of the local grocery stores even had toilet paper on the shelf too.’

Steve rolled his eyes, 'What do you want, Stark?’

'Can’t I check in? One quarantinee to another?’

'You’re pool side in Malibu.’ Bucky grumbled.

'And you’re in Stark tower with tons of friends in New York, your point?’

'Tony? Lunch’s almost done!’ You heard Pepper call from somewhere within the house.

'Yea just a second honey.’ Tony grinned, 'Quarantine is awesome, am I right?’

Thor grumbled, 'I don’t see why I have to be stuck in this building.’

'Thor, we’ve told you countless times, people are worried you could transmit the disease.’ Steve replied.

'No Midgardian illness is a match for me.’ Thor replied, fist on his chest.

Loki rolled his eyes, 'And yet, the disease may cling to you and travel to the mortals, brother. How our physiology is compatible to theirs is unknown, must we go through this again?’

You made eye contact with Loki and smiled softly.

Loki’s irritation seemed to fade somewhat and a faint smile touched the corner of his mouth before he turned his attention back to Thor, folding his arms.

'So are you guys going to have a party then?’ Tony asked, 'Wait, where’s Hawkeye? Two of you are missing.’

'Hawkeye and Nat are around.’ You replied. 'Nat was taking a nap last I knew and Clint’s… lurking.’

Tony shook his head before abruptly touching his phone, 'yes, what is it? Kid, I told you to only call in emergencies. What, wait, say that slower. You’re quarantined? Do you have enough supplies to get you through the next two weeks, just calm down. No, I’m on the phone with the other Avengers. Yes, most of them, the ones that are quarantined at the tower. Yes that includes Loki. Why do you call him Mr. Loki. Kid… Focus. Yes, ok good, you have supplies, yes you’re not sick, I know, Aunt May is pretty young, yes I know, she’s fine, you’ll both be fine, it’s just a quarantine, keep entertained with Cap’s podcasts, they’ll keep you calm, he posts them each day, yes you’re talking too fast for me to understand you. Kid. Peter. Listen to me.’ Tony sighed. 'Kid.’ He sighed again. 'Listen. I will hang up on you. Kid. Listen, stop it. Stop. I’ll send over a suit with groceries. Yes, I’ll send toilet paper. Yes, I know all the stores are out, I have connections.’ Tony smiled weakly, 'I got you covered, you’ll be fine. You’ll get through this. Now all of you, I’m hanging up and getting lunch with my hot date. Bye.’ The screen went black.

'That spider kid got quarantined?’ Steve asked, looking around the room.

You blinked, 'I guess so.’

Loki crossed the room, moving away from Thor and came over to sit beside you. He left a respectable distance, peering into your glass curiously before easing himself into the chair next to you.

'I could bring him supplies.’ Thor grumbled.

'Brother we have dealt with plagues, as has humanity before, if their response is to lock themselves away to deter the spread of it, we are not to interfere. Their healers, doctors, have made their demands,’ Loki looked up from your drink, 'We do not interfere.’

'We are protectors of humanity, we must safeguard the realm in whatever way possible.’ Thor urged.

'You cannot fight a disease with your hammer.’ Loki replied. 'Or are you suggesting culling the sick to limit its spread?’

Thor creased his brow.

Loki raised his eyebrow, 'Such action has been taken in the past and will likely take place in the future.’

Steve and Bucky watched Loki uneasily.

Loki continued coldly, 'Tell me brother, would you risk more lives or take them because you are uneasy with patience?’

'Loki…’ You said slowly.

Thor growled softly before turning and stomping from the room.

'He’s never patient.’ Loki muttered, shrugging.

You sighed and touched his forearm hesitantly.

Loki glanced down at you somewhat surprised. You slowly pulled your hand away as Loki’s eyes trailed your hand, watching where you had been and slowly staring at your hand where it lay a few inches from his arm.

Steve cleared his throat. 'Well I was thinking I might start drawing again, I haven’t had a chance to sit down and just sketch in a while.’ He managed a smile, 'Anyone have any suggestions? Maybe I’ll do some skylines…’

Bucky sighed, 'I haven’t had a lot of time to hone any hobbies.’

'Well now is a great time to start!’ Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder, 'C'mon, Stark is bound to have plenty of things lying around this musty old tower. Let’s go digging.’

You finished your drink, staring at the empty mug. 'Do you think there will be a culling?’ You asked, looking at Loki.

Loki shook his head, 'Not at all. Thor is too quick for action, this disease is easily controlled by your mortal means. Stay clean, take care of yourself and avoid too many people. The spies staying to themselves are smart, the three of you are the only regular humans in this tower, otherwise it’s nearly empty on the top floors. Between the soldiers and myself and my brother, you’re the only mortal really.’

You nodded slowly, staring at him with concern.

Loki carefully touched your hand, a bit of color rising to his cheeks, 'I doubt with the chemicals running through their bodies and my brother and myself and our genetic make up, we seem to be safe from this disease. I fear only for you falling ill, but we will keep you safe and even so, there are many more cases of recovery than there are fatalities.’

You nodded, 'Yea, you’re right.’

The black screen flipped on. 'What motherfucker, is stealing all of SHIELD’s motherfucking toilet paper?’ Nick Fury’s voice roared over the speakers as he glared out around the screen, staring down at you and Loki. 'Where is Rogers?’

You blinked, quailing beneath his glare. 'He went looking for art supplies, sir.’

'Someone got it in their funny little head that it would be a good idea to ransack the SHIELD bathrooms for toilet paper and now I got nothing to wipe my ass with. HILL, get me Hill on the line.’ Fury continued, barking orders at someone out of view.

Loki rolled his eyes, 'I don’t know what you expect us to do about it, we’re under quarantine.’

You snickered, fighting back a laugh.

Fury looked down at the two of you, 'Oh right, I’d forgotten.’ He sighed, 'Do I have any Avengers or SHIELD agents I can call into duty?’

'Not that I know of, sir. I’m pretty out of the loop.’ You waved your hand, indicating the quarantine.

'Fine, fine, carry on.’ The screen blanked out again.

Loki looked at you and you looked back at him before the two of you started laughing weakly. You both quickly looked away.

'Want to go check out the library? It’s going to be a long quarantine.’ You offered your hand to him.

Loki looked at your hand hesitantly before taking it, 'Certainly.’

It might be a long quarantine, but perhaps not a terrible one.

[thotfuss]

I kind of agree with the other Annonymous writer, I have both your ex and your feed. She apologizes for the things she did wrong and never says a bad word about you. She fully admits to things. It does feel wrong to keep calling her out as an abuser because she has been getting targeted and crucified because of your words. Is that not just as bad really? Friends and family, of course, will always take your side ALWAYS. You should listen to your heart. I am sure you loved her once.

I’ll be honest, I wrote a really angry stream of consciousness response to this, deleted it, considered not answering this at all, wrote out an actual response, told myself I didn’t owe it to anyone to explain, deleted that, and then wrote it again. Maybe this is my fault for talking about it or referencing it on here, but I never used her url or name, and I never went into detail. I saw it as me using my own blog to express my feelings, which, maybe I shouldn’t have. So I’m sorry if that’s the case. i was never “calling her out,” simply expressing my own feelings on my personal blog, i’m sorry if that was irresponsible. But I am not okay with the messages I’ve been getting lately. This is one of...5 similar ones sitting in my inbox rn? So I am NOT answering this to put my ex on blast or to target and crucify her, and I DON’T owe this explanation to anyone but for my own peace of mind I’m going to explain! (under a read more for abuse tw)

First of all, even if she DID admit to things she did wrong and apologizes for them, it doesn’t make it...not abuse? I seriously doubt she’s getting targeted and crucified, I haven’t posted her URL on here, haven’t even used her NAME, and her family and friends were extremely supportive of her and her actions when all this was happening.

It took me MONTHS to even be able to consider labeling what happened as abuse. Even after my therapist, my family, my friends, EVERYONE who knew about even a FRACTION of what was going on, had said that it was categorically emotional abuse I still felt like i was exaggerating or asking for attention. and to be honest, I still feel like that! 

My ex was insecure. I wrote everything that happened off as her being insecure for SO long, because every time I brought up an issue she would say I “wasn’t supporting her,” and that I should “know how it felt” because of my own issues with mental illness. But when I look back at some of the things that happened-I went to visit my sister back in September, and when I told my ex, she threatened to break up with me if I went. She also threatened to break up with me after my sister gave me a string bracelet she’d made me before leaving for college, because my ex thought that if I put it on, I’d be “replacing her.” I wasn’t allowed to hang out with my family in any capacity unless she was there. I wasn’t allowed to have other friends, I wasn’t even allowed to spend time by myself. She got angry if I spent time on homework, if I went home to do laundry, even if I wanted to sleep. She would say I’d rather sleep than spend time with her, so I was averaging 5 hours of sleep on a GOOD night. she lived about 30 minutes away from me, and I work a lot of night shifts. 

I would often go home before going to her place to change, feed my frog, etc, and she would get FURIOUS over this. She forced me to keep my location services on at all times, despite my telling her that it made me incredibly anxious and paranoid. If she saw me at my parents’ house, my apartment, the store, ANYWHERE without me having told her that I was going there, she would call me until I picked up and explained. 

She forced me to put her fingerprint into my phone so that she could go through my phone whenever she wanted. When I expressed discomfort, I was told both by her and her mother (who genuinely thought everything I’m outlining was an okay way to treat someone, which made it really hard for ME to tell that it wasn’t because I was surrounded on all sides by people telling me the opposite) that if I didn’t have anything to hide, it shouldn’t be an issue. She read through old chats of mine, and got upset about things I’d said to people before I’d even MET her-telling my friends I loved them, etc. She would monitor my social media activity, and if I was active somewhere and hadn’t messaged her back in a few minutes, she would call me repeatedly until I picked up. If I didn’t pick up immediately-If I was in class, at work, asleep, etc, she would later cite that as a reason she couldn’t trust me.  There was one morning where I woke up and she had turned my alarm off, and was on my phone scrolling through my phone calls and asking why I had called a certain number the day before but hadn't called her (I had called my dentist's office to reschedule an appointment.) While I was at work, she texted me calling me a fucking asshole and a cheater, based off of this situation alone.

I’m an art major, and I draw a lot! I like drawing portraits, I’ll sketch people in class, etc, and when she saw that she would accuse me of being in love with the nameless stranger I’d sketched in the coffee shop or something. She told me that the figure drawing class I was taking was “basically cheating,” to the point that I dropped out of it. She would go through my sketchbook constantly, which is something that’s very personal to me and I told her this. She once again cited that if I didn’t have anything to hide, it should be fine. She got angry at me for drawing fictional characters, even guys, which. I’m a lesbian! But she would get jealous and have a meltdown. 

She CONSTANTLY accused me of looking at other girls in public, even though I truly never was. I was driving us home from somewhere once, and looked in my sideview mirror to merge lanes, and she thought I was checking out the girl who was walking by on the sidewalk and blew up at me. Multiple times, she would get upset at me while we were driving somewhere and try to jump out of my moving car over an issue such as the one I just mentioned. 

She would get mad when I wore makeup to class or work, or even dresses or nice clothes. I would tell her that I just LIKED that dress, or that I just enjoyed doing makeup, and she would say I was only doing it to ‘impress other girls.’ On the other hand, she got upset several times when I DIDN’T wear makeup when we went out, because she said I wasn’t making an effort for her. 

She got upset at me when I didn’t finish meals, which she said triggered her own issues. I explained several times that my own anxiety (not food-related, just general) messed with my appetite a LOT, and made it hard for me to eat sometimes. 

She also gets mad when I don't finish my food, and stuff like that. I get that that's because of her eating disorder, obviously, but she still takes it out on me. All of this, when I react defensively or show that I'm hurt by her accusations, she says that i'm not giving her the "reassurance" she needs.

When I brought any of this up, she would have a melt down and cite her insecurities and mental health issues. I have major anxiety and depression issues, I've been hospitalized for it before and go to therapy once a week and am also on a lot of medication for it. When I had depressive episodes, bad days, or anxiety attacks, she would often get mad at me, and said I was sulking, or she said that it must mean I didn’t love her because she didn’t make me happy enough. I usually ended up comforting her over it.

On the anxiety note, I also tend to break out in a rash on my chest and neck when I'm anxious, and I will clarify that this looks NOTHING like hickeys. My neck gets red and blotchy, and I get itchy. when this happens, she LOST it every time without fail, melting down and telling me over and over "stop lying! just tell me who it was who did you do this with," etc, etc.

She told me that if we broke up, she would probably let her own mental health issues get worse, and would stop eating all together. She also flat out LIED about this when I brought it up later, saying that I was the one who had threatened to hurt myself if we broke up. She told me this, and other people this, and made up similar stories, so much that I started to believe it. I was apologizing for my own existence by the end of it, for every word out of my mouth, I was going crazy. I didn’t even REALIZE how bad it was, until I mentioned to my sister that I hadn’t driven the 30 mins over to her house one night due to the bad weather, and she had called me and called me until I picked up, forced me to send her pictures of the roads(?) and then said she’d “rather have someone who would drive on bad roads for her.” This wasn’t even near the worst thing that had happened, but the fact that my sister CRIED over that made me take a step or two back. And I left. Like...a few weeks after that. and it was HARD, it was the hardest thing I”ve EVER had to do, because i GENUINELY thought I was condemning someone to die. Like she fucked me up that bad! I still feel guilty. But I did it! She told me that nobody else would ever love me like her, that nobody would accept my mental health issues, etc, but guess what! I did it! 

And she STILL tried to contact me, refused to leave me alone, showed up at my WORK with a letter and flowers wanting to work it out (and sure she says this was romantic, whatever, but she forced me to unblock her number and hug her and now cites that as me “still feeling the same”) and made like...several different accounts to message me on here after I kept blocking the new ones she made. 

I have NO idea what she’s saying about me, and I don’t care. I want more than anything to move on. I hope she’s happy, I do! I get really, really, angry about it sometimes and I feel horrible for the way her isolating me made me cut off some very important people in my life. I’m still hurting, but i’m HAPPY. I want to move on, I don’t want this to be who I am, it doesn’t define me and I’d love to move on and meet other people and not have this fucking haunting me! And she keeps finding ways to bring it up. I wish her no ill will, and I”m not saying she’s a bad person. I’m not! But I am entitled to my feelings in the matter, I”m allowed to say that it sucked, I’m ALLOWED to say that it was abuse because there are things that happened that I haven’t even told my therapist, because it’s too hard to think about. I’m allowed to move on. Please, please allow me to move on. 

I’m not going to answer anything else about this, maybe I shouldn’t have talked about it in any capacity on here, maybe that’s my fault. But please stop messaging me about it. 

[panharmonium]

For Want of a Woodwright (Parts 1-3)

[I DON’T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED; DON’T ASK ME; JUST ROLL WITH IT]

i come bearing gifts - here are some snippets inspired by the web of “will comes to camelot” AU ideas spawned by this lovely anon ask, which i cannot appreciate enough :)  thank you very much to the anon who sent those messages, and to everybody else who jumped in the sandbox - i had fun with this, and i hope you do too!

(also, anon - if this is an idea you are ever planning on writing yourself, the title is all yours.  feel free to take it back anytime!  i am using it here just to pay tribute to your idea and to the original title you sent me, but it belongs to you for life, and i will change this post header in a heartbeat if you need it for your own purposes! :D )

author’s note:  these are VERY rough, not meticulously edited, and not even remotely close to final drafts.  they are hardly even first drafts, in fact.  they are not necessarily connected to each other, or in order, or part of any actual coherent plot, and they do not directly adhere to the plan laid out in the original post, either; they are just snapshots of fragmentary scenes that popped out of me yesterday when i wasn’t paying attention.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  

and now, everybody can have a little AU, as a treat!   

1. divine providence

“I can’t see anything wrong with him, Merlin.” 

Gaius rinsed his hands in a basin of water, his wide sleeves pushed back to the elbows.  Will, perched on a stool, pulled his shirt back over his head, looking starkly out of place in the center of Gaius’s spacious circular chambers.  

“It looks to be healing quite well,” Gaius continued.  “I don’t see anything to worry about.”

“But on the inside, though,” Merlin said, attempting to drag Will’s tunic up again.  “What if - there could be something wrong underneath, couldn’t there?”

“The man can’t look at my insides, Merlin,” hissed Will, wresting his shirt out of Merlin’s grip.  “Get out of it.”

“I’m only saying - ”

Gaius interrupted Merlin’s nervous rant with a precisely-cocked eyebrow.  “Merlin, if you do not trust my medical opinion, then I am afraid I am going to have to refer you out, though I think you may have a difficult time explaining the facts of this case to Ephram or Hildegard, considering the circumstances.”  He looked at Will.  “Would you like someone else to examine you, young man?”

“No, sir,” Will said, with a pointed look at Merlin.  “I’ve done without physicians my entire life.  I think I’ll manage.”

“I only mean - ”  Merlin was vibrating in place, a bundle of frustrated energy; he looked like his fingers itched to make another grab for Will’s shirt.  “I’m not sure what I did.  It might not have mended properly, Gaius.  What if I did something wrong?”

Gaius replaced the cover to his medicine bag.  “I’m not entirely sure you did anything at all, Merlin.”

Merlin exchanged a glance with Will, then looked uncomprehendingly back to Gaius.  “But I must have done.  He - well, he - ”  Merlin fumbled over this deceptively simple explanation as if attempting to climb an extremely slippery slope whose peak he did not want to reach in the first place.  “He was - well.  You know.”

“I was dying,” Will said, ignoring the way this made Merlin look like he was going to be sick all over the floor.  “Definitely.  I mean, I could tell.”

“I believe you,” Gaius agreed, frowning at Will’s chest.  “That’s not a very good spot for a penetrating wound, young man.”

Will turned a little bit red.  “Yeah, well,” he muttered.  “It’s not as if I planned it that way or anything.”

“Gaius,” Merlin interrupted, as if he were clinging to the very last thread of his patience.  “What did you mean, I didn’t do anything?”

Gaius just shook his head and dried his hands on a clean piece of cloth.  “A mortal wound could not have been healed by magic or conventional means, Merlin.  And it certainly could not have been healed by you.”

This appeared to jar Merlin out of his jittery state, as his mouth popped open in an offended ‘o.’  “Why not by me?”

Gaius sighed.  “Merlin, the healing arts are not simply a matter of willing a patient well again.  If you took any interest in my work at all, you would know - ”

“I am interested in your work.  I’m just - ”  Merlin gestured helplessly with his hands.  “You know.  Busy.”

“With what?” Will scoffed.  “His Majesty’s royal washing?”

Merlin turned a ferocious glare on Will, but Gaius interceded before the two of them could start bickering.  “Busy you may be, Merlin, but even someone as busy as you ought to know by now that any attempt at magical healing requires an exact understanding of anatomy and physiology.  How can you possibly expect to mend something when you don’t know what it is supposed to look like, or how it is supposed to work?”

Will gave Merlin a sage look and nodded like this was the most sensible thing in the world.  Merlin wanted to thump him over the head.

“I don’t see why I couldn’t have helped,” Merlin said stubbornly.  “I felt something.” 

“Oh, did you, now?”  Gaius gestured at Merlin’s own chest.  “Very well, then, Merlin.  What can you tell us about the heart?”

“It’s - ”  Merlin cast a glance around the room, as if hoping to see a helpful diagram pasted up on the walls somewhere.  “It circulates the blood.”

“And how exactly does it accomplish this vital function?”

“It - well, it sort of...squeezes, like.”

“Would you care to elaborate on that?”

“Erm.  No.  I don’t think so.”

Gaius did not look impressed.  “And can you perhaps tell us what the healthy human heart is meant to look like?”

“It’s - you know.  It’s got sort of...different bits to it.”

Gaius raised his eyebrows.  

Will rubbed at his chest, frowning.  “Maybe I ought to have some other bloke look me over after all.”

Merlin did thump him that time, a single solid smack across the back of the head.

Gaius folded his arms, the picture of long-suffering exasperation.  “I am simply saying, Merlin, that you do not possess the requisite knowledge to mend anyone in any such way that would result in the living, breathing human being seated here before me.”

“Cheers,” Will said.

Merlin looked vaguely ill.  He watched Will out the corner of his eye as if expecting him to drop dead at any moment.  

“Then what?” Merlin asked.  “I did something, Gaius.  I felt it.”

“Perhaps,” Gaius conceded.  “But certain death cannot be averted by any magic known to men.   Only through the intercession of powerful, external forces are such things accomplished.”

That got Merlin and Will’s attentions.  “Come again?” Will said dubiously.

Gaius put a thoughtful hand to his chin, considering the perfectly healthy human being sitting on his stool.  “Does it pain you at all?”

“No.”

“He’s lying,” Merlin said immediately.  “He’s always grimacing when he uses that arm - ”

“I’m always grimacing when I use any of my arms, because you’re always talking rubbish at me while I’m trying to work - ”

Gaius crossed between the two of them, cutting off another potential argument.  “I’ll compound something for the inflammation.  I expect any lingering soreness will pass, in time.”  He opened the various cupboards on the other side of the room and began rooting through them.  “Perhaps you two might like to take a walk,” he suggested, pulling out a vial to inspect its yellowing label, “unless, of course, you’d like to stay and help me, which I can’t imagine would be the case - Merlin, you can take an herb sack, I’ll be low on arnica once I’ve finished with this - ”

“Gaius - ”

“And if you’re going down through the market, you can stop by Benegar and Beata’s.  I’ve ordered an ounce of black bryony through them twice now, and not heard a blessed thing about whether it’s arrived or not - ”

“Gaius,” Merlin repeated.  “I don’t understand.  What did I do?”

Gaius finally turned to look at him, a clear vial clasped in one hand and a bundle of dried leaves in the other.  “I’ve no idea, Merlin,” he said frankly.  “But whatever it was, I am certain you did not do it on your own.”  He eyed Will, a curious look on his face.  “Perhaps you simply asked for the right favor at the right time.”

Gaius hung there for another moment, considering, then laid his ingredients down on the table and crossed to the supply closet, opening the door and stepping inside.  Will and Merlin, unable to think of anything else to ask him, watched Gaius’s back as he rummaged, Will with a deeply skeptical look on his face, and Merlin looking pale.

“Will you get a grip?” Will muttered out the corner of his mouth.  “You look like you’re the one he ought to be examining.”

Merlin said nothing, but lifted his fingers and brushed them against the place he had made Gaius check too many times, the place Gaius had said was so bad for penetrating wounds, the place where Will hated being poked and prodded.  There was a heart under there, one that circulated blood, one that had different bits to it, one that squeezed.  Merlin could not have sketched its anatomy, or described its functionality, but he knew exactly what it was supposed to feel like under his fingers.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Merlin murmured, feeling for the steady beat, beat, beat.

2. blackmail

“I ought to have the man hanged!”

Arthur’s padded aketon went flying across the room, snagging on a weapons rack beside the fireplace and rattling the upright row of spears.  Merlin ignored the mess-in-the-making, instead continuing to do up Arthur’s bed.  If the item of clothing hadn’t come flying at his head, it wasn’t his problem.  

“You could have him hanged,” Merlin said mildly, tugging a new sheet into place.  “If that’s what you really want.”

Arthur rounded on him, stabbing at Merlin with one pointed finger.  “What on earth would you bring him here for?  What possessed you?”

“I didn’t bring him anywhere.  He came on his own.”

“To Camelot?”  Arthur’s eyes were wild with disbelief.  “A sorcerer?  For what purpose?

Merlin fought down a prickly wave of irritation.  “For me.”

Arthur looked Merlin up and down in a faintly skeptical way.  Merlin bit his tongue to avoid saying something that would land him or Will in deeper trouble.  “Are you going to report him to your father?” he asked instead.

“I ought to,” Arthur growled, his face thunderously shadowed.

Merlin picked up one of Arthur’s pillows from the bed and removed its dirty casing with a flick of his wrist.  “You can, if you like.”  There was a pause as Merlin denuded each of the pillows in turn.  Then he added, “Course, then you’d also have to explain what you were reporting him for.  And then you’d have to explain to your father that you did cross the border into Cenred’s kingdom, after he explicitly told you not to.”

Arthur shot Merlin a poisonous glare.

“You could have started a war, you know,” Merlin remarked, tossing dirty pillowcases over his shoulder and retrieving a set of clean cases from a nearby basket.  “Can’t imagine your father would have been too pleased to have his precious treaty annulled by your hand.  And then you went and dragged Morgana into it as well - ”

“You appear to be misremembering, Merlin,” Arthur said thinly.  “As I recall, Morgana left for Ealdor before I did.”

Merlin pasted a puzzled look onto his face.  “Did she?”

Arthur’s eyebrows climbed up to his hairline.  “Are you braindead?  She left with you!”

Merlin shrugged vaguely.  “I’m not sure I remember it that way.  That’s not how she’s telling it, anyhow.”

Arthur ground his teeth together.  “And how, exactly, is she telling it?”

“I’m not sure,” Merlin mused, tossing the re-cased cushions back onto the bed in an unappealing jumble.  “Something about you preying on her compassionate and kind nature to goad her into aiding an enemy village over the king’s objections.”

Arthur stared out the window.  He appeared to be measuring the distance from his own chambers to Morgana’s, gauging whether a crossbow fired from this distance would be accurate enough to find its mark, or powerful enough to do the kind of damage he was hoping for.

“Of course,” Merlin continued, “I suppose you could just go ahead and give Uther your version.  It’s not as if he’s more likely to believe Morgana than you, yeah?”  Merlin shuffled Arthur’s dirty pillowcases across the floor with his feet, kicking them under the chest next to the door.  Then he laughed.  “I mean to say - he’s besotted with her, obviously - ”

“Merlin.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Shut up.”

Merlin closed his mouth, and waited.  

Arthur continued to stare out the window.  He appeared intensely focused on the row of stained glass portals lining the great hall on the opposite side of the palace.  Down below, Merlin could hear an argument escalating between the pantler and one of the castle’s suppliers, who was unloading wagons through the postern gate of the minor courtyard.

“I don’t want to see him within the walls of this citadel,” Arthur said finally.  “He is not to wander this place outside your line of sight, and he is not to engage in any sort of...any unnatural activity, under any circumstances, at any time.  And by no means is he to come anywhere near my father, is that understood?

“I can’t imagine William has any interest in meeting your father, sire.”

“Merlin.”

Merlin linked his hands together behind his back.  “I understand, sire.”

Arthur nodded infinitesimally.  He was still completely fixated on the pantler’s progressively wilder gesticulations, though Merlin couldn’t understand why.  It was the same show every week.

“Will that be all, sire?” Merlin asked.

“Yes,” Arthur said.  

Merlin bowed and turned to go.  Then Arthur spoke once again, arresting Merlin’s exit.  “Find him something useful to do,” he said, still gazing out the window.

Merlin hesitated with a hand on the door.  “More useful than saving your life, my lord?”

“Get out, Merlin.”

“Yes, my lord.”

3. where you lead

“How long are you going to stay?”

Will picked at the grain of the table.  “Sick of me already?”

Merlin shook his head, feeling the suffocatingly pressing need for an extra second to formulate his response.  

Gaius had gone out to do his evening rounds, and for once he had not insisted that Merlin accompany him, which meant that Merlin had made supper for himself and Will, and the two of them had eaten together, but it had not been like a typical evening back home.  Will had seemed to have very little to say, and Merlin had not been able to come up with a successful way to coax him into conversation, and they had passed an uncomfortably stilted evening, with Will spending most of the meal gazing at cluttered instruments on Gaius’s workbench, scientific diagrams plastered to the walls, tattered books stacked in every corner - anywhere but Merlin’s face.

Now Merlin swallowed the last of his dinner and set down his spoon, pushing the bowl aside.  “I never said that,” he said uncertainly.   “Why would you think that?”

Will continued his inspection of the surface of the table.  After a moment, he replied, “You came here alone.”

Merlin’s supper wriggled in his stomach.  Guilty, guilty, guilty.  

Will traced the outline of a knot in the wood with one of his fingers.  Merlin tried to think of something to say in response, but he had no excuses to make for himself.  It was too complicated. 

“It’s fine, Merlin,” Will said, before Merlin could open his mouth and attempt a weak explanation.

Merlin did not think so.  But he could not figure out how to say what he needed to say about it just now, so he latched onto something he was sure of.  “This is dangerous for you.”

“It’s dangerous for you,” Will countered.  “I’m only pretending; it’s no skin off my back if someone thinks I have magic.”

“Pretend sorcerers can still end up on the block, Will.”

“And actual sorcerers?” Will said.  “What happens to them, Merlin?”

Merlin turned his spoon over and over on the table, watching Will from the corner of his eye.  The light from the wall sconces bent through clusters of glass vials and lit Will’s face in an interesting way, a pattern Merlin had never seen before.  There had never been any glass in Ealdor.  

“Nothing happens to them,” Merlin replied.  “Not when they’re hiding behind their friends.”

Will looked away.  The watery glass-glow painting his face made it difficult to pick out his flush, but Merlin knew Will well enough to make his own assumptions.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Merlin said, his voice suddenly very untrustworthy, and he shut his mouth before he could stumble into something soft and wobbly and very un-put-together.

Will shook his head, gazing fixedly at a collection of animal skulls lining one side of Gaius’s bookcase.  “It’s done, Merlin.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should you.  But here you are, and here I am, and maybe we ought to just let it lie, yeah?  I know you think I’m happy to lock horns with anyone who cares to try me, but this has been a godsawful, stupid shambles of a summer, and believe it or not, I’m tired of rowing with you.”

Merlin was quiet for a long moment.   “I wasn’t trying to make you upset,” he said finally.

“I’m not upset,” Will said.  He was having a staring contest with the eyeless, empty skull of some ruminant or another.  “I’m just saying.”

The fire crackled alongside them, no doubt gluing the remnants of their supper to the inside of the kettle.  Merlin glanced out the window at the rising moon.  Gaius would be coming home soon.

“How long are you staying?” Merlin asked Will again.  Before Will could bristle a second time, Merlin added, “I’m not saying that to get rid of you.  I’m asking because it’s - complicated, here, with your - with the situation.  And I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

Will gazed into the shadowy eye sockets of the skull on the shelf, much as if he had not heard Merlin’s question.  

“Will?” Merlin prodded.  

Will looked away from the hollow hunk of bone.  “What?”

“Did you hear me?”

Will did not reply.  He pulled Merlin’s empty bowl toward himself and pushed himself back from the table, then, dishes in hand, rose from his seat, but he suddenly appeared to realize that he did not even know where to go to do the washing-up in this place.  He clapped the bowls down onto the table again with an under-his-breath oath and plopped back down on the bench.  “Hear what?”

“When are you leaving?”

Will sighed heavily, his eyes permanently fixed somewhere off to one side.  "When do you want me to go, Merlin?”

The answer popped out of Merlin before he could stop himself.  “I don’t.  I don’t want you to.”

Will stopped rubbing unconsciously at the left side of his chest.  He stopped everything, in fact.  He was abruptly frozen, like the kind of animal that one of the little skulls on the top shelf had once been - spooked into stillness.  “Come again?” he said.

Merlin took a deep breath.  “Stay.”

“You want me to stay here?”

“Yes.”

“In Camelot.”

“Yes.”

“Where the only people I’ve ever met think I’m a sorcerer.”

“Yes.”

“Where I haven’t got any money.”

“Yes.”

“Where I haven’t got any land or livestock or anything.”

Merlin hesitated.  He had no right to ask for this.  But he couldn’t lie, either, however selfish and insensitive it made him seem.  Lying to Will was not something he remembered how to do.  “Yes.”

A long silence stretched between them.  Outside, the royal hunting hounds yapped for their suppers.

“I’m not asking you to do it,” Merlin said quietly.  He had never been nervous around Will before, but lately that seemed to be the only thing their relationship could manage - unsettled stomachs and treacherous footing, pitfall traps marring what had once had been a solid plain of understanding.  “I’m just answering your question.”  

Will did not say anything in response.  Merlin resisted the urge to wipe sweaty palms on his trousers and continued.  “I haven’t got any right to ask that of you.  I know I haven’t.  It’s my fault we’re in this mess to begin with.”  

Merlin did not clarify, exactly, what ‘mess’ he was referring to; he hoped Will would understand that he meant more than their current case of mistaken magical identities.  “You don’t owe me anything,” he added.

Will shook his head at that.  “I owe you my life.”

“No,” Merlin corrected.  “I owe you mine.”

“Oi,” Will said tiredly.  “Haven’t I just told you I’m sick of rowing with you?”

“Yes,” Merlin replied, surrendering to a small smile.  “But you’re so easy.”

Will scowled at him.  

It was a nice look.  A normal look.

Before Merlin could say anything else, the door to the hallway banged open.  

“Ah,” Gaius said.  “Gentlemen.  Good evening.”  He swung the door closed behind him, laying his medicine bag on the workbench and divesting himself of his cloak.  “Arthur is looking for you, Merlin.  You’d better go and see what he wants.”  He ambled past the kettle, leaning over it to have a sniff on his way by.  “I see you’ve made supper - I assume it’s too much to hope that you’ve left something in that pot for me.”

Merlin hurriedly got up and scraped together a third plate, then gathered the remaining dirty bowls in his hands and hovered by the edge of the table.  “Erm - listen - ” he said to Will in a low voice.

“Sir Thickhead’s looking for you,” Will interrupted, tipping his chin at the door.  “Don’t you have to go and unbuckle his boots or something?”

“Yeah, I - what?  No, I mean - he can unbuckle his own boots, Will; he’s not entirely stupid.”  

Unbidden, a memory arose in Merlin’s mind of Arthur storming out of a Council session with his shirt on back-to-front and his tightly-clasped belt keeping the situation from being rectified, the prong bent out of place by some blow or another and stuck at the fourth notch.  “Most of the time, I mean.  It doesn’t matter.  He’s not - ” 

Not important just now, Merlin thought.  

Arthur’s boots could wait.  

He leaned over the table, closer to Will, so that Gaius, who had settled down at a different workbench with his supper and his books, could not hear.  “Listen,” Merlin said in an undertone.  “Forget what I said.  I wouldn’t have brought it up, only you asked.  It wasn’t fair of me to even mention it.  Don’t think on it.”

Something in Will’s face made Merlin hesitate, though.  He furrowed his brow, not wanting to give in to the sudden spark of inconceivable hope that had just lit up inside his chest.  “I mean, unless - you’re not - ?”

“Why don’t you go and put his royal majesty to bed,” Will suggested pointedly. 

“Right, yeah - but we were just talking, though - ”

Will shrugged.  “I’m not going anywhere, am I?”

Merlin took a half step to the door, then turned around and bent quickly over the table again.  “Hang on,” he muttered, “sorry, er - you mean just now?  Or - ”

Will met Merlin’s eyes levelly.  “I’m not going to do a runner on you, Merlin.”

Not like you did on me.  Merlin heard the unspoken thought clearly enough.  But Will didn’t voice it, this time, and that was something.

“Right,” Merlin said, his head buzzing with possibilities.  “Okay, then.  We’ll talk later.  Erm.”

Gaius was giving him a pointed look.  “I’m going!” Merlin exclaimed, and bolted for the door before Arthur could start hollering Merlin’s name from the bottom of the stairs.    

Not that anyone would care if Arthur yelled himself hoarse, Merlin thought, taking the spiral steps two at a time.  Merlin found the hollering more amusing than anything - he didn’t understand how the prince could fail to see the embarrassment inherent in stalking down corridors with his tunic undone and his trousers unlaced, bellowing for a servant to come and (yes, all right, fine, Will had probably been right) unbuckle his boots.

But Merlin didn’t think Arthur’s bellowing would do much to convince Will to extend his visit.  

And so, perhaps, Merlin thought, popping out of the stairwell at the appropriate floor and speeding down the corridor, dodging a page tending to the wall sconces - perhaps it would be better if Merlin took it at a bit of a run, today.

[TBC, maybe!  if i continue to feel like playing around in here - we’ll see what happens!]

[picturebookmakers]

Axel Scheffler

In this post, Axel takes us on a journey through his art studio and career. As well as sharing wonderful development work from some of his much-loved picturebooks, he shows us unseen sketchbook pages, early illustration commissions, etchings he made as a student, and his recent work to educate children about the coronavirus.

Visit Axel Scheffler’s website

Axel: I’m not really sure how many books I’ve illustrated in the 30+ years that I’ve been working. Over 150. I mostly work for the UK market, but occasionally I do books with German publishers. Not picturebooks though, so nothing that collides with the co-edition market.

Each of the boxes you see here contains one of my books: the sketches, illustrations, dummies, alternate versions of covers, everything.

I organised these boxes with Liz, my assistant, to have all the main books there so we can find things for exhibitions. There’s still lots of drawings in these boxes which aren’t sorted yet. Liz is such a great help, but it’s very difficult for me to keep on top of everything. I think I would probably need two Lizes, or perhaps three.

So yes, I don’t really know where to begin... I’ve got endless sketchbooks and little drawings on paper. I’ve got some really old sketchbooks I could show you.

Shall we start with The Gruffalo?

My early sketches of the Gruffalo were thought by my editor to be too scary for small children. So I had to make him a bit rounder and more ‘cuddly’. Initially, I‘d also thought that all the animals would be wearing clothes, as they often do in picturebooks. But Julia had different ideas, and to be honest I was relieved. How would I have dressed the snake?

Here’s some spreads from the dummy...

I tried a lot of alternate covers for this book; I think there were twelve in total. There’s some where the Gruffalo doesn’t even feature on the cover.

My latest book with Julia is called ‘The Smeds and The Smoos’. It was quite nice to work on because it’s so different from the other books we’ve done together. The text is a bit like a mixture between Dr Seuss and Lewis Carol; it has this nonsense element. But it’s basically Romeo and Juliet in outer space.

It’s an alien story, so I didn’t have to draw any rabbits or squirrels for a change, and I could invent more. I had more freedom. But like always, I got bored with drawing the same characters over and over again. But that’s picturebooks.

There was quite a lot of development work in the case of this book. But when it’s a story about a fox or a squirrel, I don’t do this kind of stuff. Over the years, it’s become much quicker and easier working on my books. I do far less research than I used to. Now I generally just do a quick pencil sketch then go straight to artwork.

Sometimes I have to start again because things go wrong though. This was a finished piece that was abandoned. I think I suddenly thought that the rocket was far too big or something. I do that; I work on something for ages, and then I suddenly look at it from a distance and realise that something needs redoing.

Did you spot the little Gruffalo in this picture? Since ‘The Snail and the Whale’, I’ve hidden a Gruffalo in each of my books with Julia (not ‘The Ugly Five’ though).

For almost all of the books Julia and I have done together, our editor has been Alison Green. We’re an old established team. And I’ve always worked with the publisher Kate Wilson; I followed her from Macmillan to Scholastic, and then to Nosy Crow. Julia moved from Macmillan to Scholastic, and decided to stay there. So Julia and I have some of our joint titles with Macmillan and some with Scholastic. Julia does books with other illustrators for Macmillan, and I illustrate other books for Nosy Crow.

People often ask me which of the books I’ve done with Julia is my favourite. It’s quite hard to choose, but I enjoyed working on ‘The Smartest Giant in Town’. I liked the way I could do a crazy world with animals, giants, fairytale characters, everything mixed together without anyone caring or questioning it. I’ll show you a few things from the box...

For this book, the cover was changed at the last minute. The original design had the title written on a poster stuck on a brick wall, but the sales people said they wanted a landscape, so I did another one. Years later, they used the original design for a new paperback edition, so it wasn’t completely wasted in the end.

I mentioned my endless sketchbooks earlier. I’ll show you a few of them. This was mainly me playing around without thinking about what I was doing; it wasn’t a conscious thing.

I haven’t looked at these sketchbooks for ages. It was such a long time ago. I don’t work in sketchbooks like this anymore, and I no longer doodle. But for fun, I make illustrated envelopes for friends.

I often think about doing a book with just pictures, but I’m always too busy doing other things. Posthumously, perhaps there will be time to do this. I’d also love to experiment and be more spontaneous; it’s been my dream for decades to do something completely different. But when I receive a book project, I always feel under pressure to finish it, and I’m always late with everything, so I end up doing it the way I’ve always done it.

This is my drawing table, which is and always has been too small and too messy. I think I have to accept it will always be this way.

I use Saunders Waterford paper for my illustrations. It’s funny how we all have our special paper. My rough sketches are often quite small, so I have them blown up to the correct size. Then I trace the sketches on a lightbox onto my watercolour paper. After that, I draw the outlines in black ink with a dip pen. I colour everything with Ecoline inks using brushes, and then coloured pencils on top of it (I use Faber Polychromos and Prismacolour crayons). I might then need to redraw some of the black lines, or use some white gouache for highlights.

I studied History of Art in Hamburg, but left before graduating. I realised this wasn’t what I was good at; I’m not an academic.

Then I had to do my alternative service as conscientious objector. Sixteen months. There was still conscription then; that’s how old I am. I worked with mentally ill people in their homes. It was during this time that I had a friend studying ceramics at Bath Academy of Art in England. I went to visit her. I really didn’t know what else to do, so I thought maybe I could move to Bath and go to the art school. So this is what I did. The course was Visual Communications, so it was design, printmaking, photography, all that stuff. But I realised I only wanted to do illustration.

I’d gone to art college hoping to learn something. I don’t think that necessarily happened, but drawing intensively for three years was, I think, what I had needed to do. I don’t remember actually finishing any projects though.

Here’s some drawings from my student sketchbooks. I did lots of observational drawing back then, which I don’t anymore. I did it then because they told us to. I’m an obedient person!

While I was a student, I did an exchange in New York: Cooper Union Art College for three months. These drawings are of Jewish immigrants, meeting for coffee. It was 1984, so many of them were still alive; refugees from Germany or Austria. I heard them speaking German, so that’s how I knew.

Sketchbooks are such a good way of memorising things. Nobody really knows about these sketchbooks; I used to take them to interviews, but they’ve been hidden away for years.

After I graduated, I moved to London and took my portfolio around. My art teacher had suggested I should do this to get work, so that’s what I did. In those days, you had to ring them and ask to come around. I got two commissions straight away, and it’s been busy ever since, really. I’ve always had something to do.

Here’s some of my early commissions. Starting from 1985, I guess. Very pointy noses...

I did so much of this kind of work. It was a good way of earning money quickly. Occasionally, I still do editorial. I did some Brexit drawings for the remain campaign. Sadly, it didn’t help. Maybe I wrecked everything!

I’ll say a few words about the KIND book... 38 wonderful artists donated a picture to illustrate some of the many ways children can be kind. Such as sharing their toys or helping people from other countries to feel welcome.

One pound from each book sold goes to the Three Peas charity, which supports refugees from war-torn countries. It’s been a big success so far, and Three Peas has received a lot of money from sales in the UK and co-editions.

I’d quite like to do the UNKIND book next! I think illustrators would probably enjoy that, but I don’t imagine it would sell very well.

And now for something completely different! Some etchings I made when I was a student.

People often ask me which illustrators I’m inspired by. I don’t seek any direct influence on my work, but I’ve always said that Tomi Ungerer had the greatest influence on my approach to illustration. Although his style is quite different to mine, this humour and wackiness is something that has always appealed to me. And the details.

William Steig is someone I got into later, when I was already illustrating. And Edward Gorey of course. And Saul Steinberg. I think the Czech artist Jiří Šalamoun is wonderful. And I like Eva Lindström from Sweden a lot. She’s so great.

Okay, to finish with I’ll talk about the coronavirus work I’ve been doing...

I asked myself what I could do as a children’s illustrator to inform, as well as entertain, my readers here and abroad about the coronavirus. So I was glad when Nosy Crow asked me to illustrate a book on the subject. I think it’s extremely important for children and families to have access to reliable information in this unprecedented crisis.

You can download the free digital book in English here, and in over 60 other languages here.

I also wanted to do something light-hearted to cheer people up, and I thought, “What if I imagine some of our characters in corona situations?” Julia liked the idea and wrote rhymes for the new scenes. This was really more about entertainment than serious information.

Artwork and verse © Axel Scheffler and Julia Donaldson 2020. Based on characters from ‘The Gruffalo’s Child’ (2004), ‘Charlie Cook’s Favourite Book’ (2005), ‘The Smartest Giant in Town’ (2002), and ‘The Gruffalo’ (1999) — © Macmillan Children’s Books.

And here’s one more thing: my ‘letter from lockdown’. On The Children’s Bookshow website, you’ll find lockdown letters from lots of other wonderful authors and illustrators.

Illustrations © Axel Scheffler. Post edited by dPICTUS.

Buy this picturebook

The Gruffalo

Julia Donaldson & Axel Scheffler

Macmillan Children’s Books, UK, 1999

‘A mouse took a stroll through the deep dark wood. A fox saw the mouse and the mouse looked good.’

Walk further into the deep dark wood, and discover what happens when a quick-witted mouse comes face to face with an owl, a snake... and a hungry Gruffalo!

‘The Gruffalo’ has become a bestselling phenomenon across the world. This award-winning rhyming story of a mouse and a monster is now a modern classic, and will enchant children for years to come.

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The Smeds and The Smoos

Julia Donaldson & Axel Scheffler

Alison Green Books, UK, 2019

The Smeds (who are red) never mix with the Smoos (who are blue). So when a young Smed and Smoo fall in love, their families disapprove.

But peace is restored and love conquers all in this happiest of love stories. There’s even a gorgeous purple baby to celebrate!

PUBLISHED IN THE FOLLOWING LANGUAGES

Afrikaans

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Buy this picturebook

Kind

Alison Green, Axel Scheffler & 38 illustrators

Alison Green Books, UK, 2019

Imagine a world where everyone is kind; how can we make that come true? With gorgeous pictures by a host of top illustrators, KIND is a timely, inspiring picturebook about the many ways children can be kind, from sharing their toys and games, to helping those from other countries feel welcome.

One pound from the sale of each printed copy will go to the Three Peas charity, which gives vital help to refugees from war-torn countries.

PUBLISHED IN THE FOLLOWING LANGUAGES

Bulgarian

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English

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[shanie-the-toyaddict]

Shanie’s Dream Fic: A Masterpost

The following is a Masterpost of all my various finished, started, and sketched out dream stories. They are listed here as the dreams originally were, not as the stories the dreams became. Listings are by Saga/Series, Story Title, and Month/Year of original dream. Also listed are the fandoms of the dreams and any specific warnings the fics might carry. For the record, this isn’t a post really for anyone on here. It’s mostly for my own records. I do have a copy on my cloud storage but I’m putting it here as well on the off chance anyone is curious. BTW: I’m putting this here so that I don’t have to list it every time. As far as the WWE dreams go. Absolutely NONE of them are Kayfabe compliant. That’s the problem with not watching the shows regularly. I don’t dream about the TV side of it often. The Zowens dream is close though. It’s sort of a hybrid. The rest? Well, all of them are some level of NKC, but some are not only non-kayfabe, they are straight up AU.  BTW2: In every single one of these stories involving me I am some manner of queer. I’m pretty sure in all but maybe one or two. I’m either wlw, ace, or both. NOT ONE of the first person dreams contains romance between me and another character. The best you get is a single platonic fake-relationship story. (That one did have a smut scene in it but it isn’t romantic.)

Anyway, list behind the cut!

ADVENTURES IN DREAMLAND Master Post

SAGA   A Family Beyond Blood

Part 1 Darkness Fallen (August 2019) I find myself trapped in a world where I died as a child. Now as a spirit I must find a way to restore the universe to it’s proper order. (Somehow my young death caused the entire universe to splinter) *McMahon Family and MCU Dream* Part 2 Death and Life on Planet Earth (August 2019)

Having saved the universe but not ourselves, I vow to do whatever it takes to return Shane to his rightful place with his family. *McMahon Family and MCU Dream*

Part 3 A World Restored to Fall (August 2019)

The universe has been reset again, and I have been returned to my proper timeline. Or have I? There’re odd happenings in a local bookshop and it’s up to me to figure out how to stop them *Original Dream Featuring IRL People*

Part 4 World War Winter (August 2019)

Nuclear Holocaust has occurred. The world is at war with the machines. As a soldier in the CAMP forces, I must leave everything I know behind and face down the android army. But, maybe there’s a familiar face or two in CAMP after all... *McMahon Family Dream* *VIOLENT*

Part 5 Of Queens and Kingdoms (August 2019)

The world is reset. AGAIN. This time, it’s me, Shane and Marissa in a new land where the middle ages and modern times are happening simultaneously and women are the dominant gender. And, somehow, I’m the bloody queen. *McMahon Family and WWE Universe Dream*

Part 6 Titans Reign (August 2019)

Having ascended to the throne and filling the royal court with WWE superstars, I must now find a way to rule over a land I barely know. Meanwhile, a sinister plot is brewing to put the patriarchy back in power. *McMahon Family and WWE Universe Dream*

SAGA That’s What Friends Are For

Part 1 Death of a Fangirl (and Birth of a Friend) (October 2019) [Only Published Story on List]

I find myself being given the chance to meet Shane. Unfortunately, my mental illness turns the dream into a nightmare and my life unravels. But don’t worry. Shane will save the day. He always does. *Shane O Mac Dream*

Part 2 With A Song In Her Heart (October 2019)

Shane has been ignoring my texts, so I hunt him down. My search finds me at a pride festival where a spontaneous song catches his attention a little too well. *Shane O Mac Dream*

Part 3 One Last Birthday to Celebrate (November 2019)

It’s Christmastime in Squirrel Hill. For some dumb reason, Shane McMahon has decided to visit me the day before his birthday. Naturally I surprise him with a present. The other surprise (getting caught in a domestic dispute) is far less pleasant. *Shane O Mac Dream* *VIOLENT*

Part 4 The Pink Rose (Not a Dream)

I survived the shooting. Waking up in a hospital, I find my mother and a room full of flowers from the WWE Superstars. But one flower, a lone pink rose, is unlabeled. Wanna take a wild guess who sent that one? *WWE Universe Story NOT Based on A Dream*

Part 5 Dreams and Demons (December 2019)

So, it seems that watching your friend nearly die in a hail of bullets isn’t the best for your mental health. At WrestleMania 37, Shane is presented with a choice. Me, or TV. Of course he chooses me, this is my dream, what other choice   would there be? *WWE Universe Dream*

[Are you starting to see why I never publish any of these. They are painfully bad self inserts and woefully self-indulgent. But they are also therapy, hence the writing]

SERIES   Trippy Shorts

Story 1 A Little Fall of Acid Rain (August 2019)

The world is ending – but only in NYC. I’m there. So are the McMahons. Destruction and danger abound. *McMahon Family Dream*

Story 2 I Know Who I Am (September 2019)

All of my favorites from TV, movies, music, and wrestling are turning up murdered. Each time, a cryptic message is left behind, written in blood. Can I figure out the connection before everyone I like is killed? *General Pop Culture Dream* *EXTREMELY VIOLENT AND DISTURBING*

Story 3 Fixed Points and Fixed Pairings [An Unfinished Symphony] (September 2019)

One night, outside the bar, I am approached by an older version of myself. She brings a time machine and a mission – go back to the attitude era and change time so Shane remains the heir apparent. But some people are just meant to be together, and others just refuse to listen – even to an angel from the future. *WWE Universe Dream*

Story 4 A Song of Summer [A Snapshot] (October 2019)

As an Agent of SHIELD, it doesn’t take a genius to see that Black Widow and Hawkeye are in love. So, through the power of music, I decide to try and hook them up. *MCU Dream*

Story 5 Journeys Beginning [A Snapshot] (December 2019)

One day at school, I find myself amid an alien incursion. But don’t worry, the Doctor is on the case. Also, Shane is involved because of course he is. *Shane O Mac and Doctor Who Dream*

Story 6 Arson, Murder, and Revolution (January 2020)

At a Hollywood LGBTQ party, I find myself caught in a plot by the Trump administration to commit mass murder. When it goes awry, revolution stirs and it’s up to me and several other progressive celebrities to light the fuse *General Pop Culture Dream* *VIOLENT*

[See, they aren’t all about Shane. Just... most of them]

STAND ALONE STORIES

Once Upon a Dream (August 2019)

I black out drunk in an alley one night and awake to find myself in a dream. It’s 1990 and I’m somehow a middle-aged black woman. Also sharing the dream is a young and angry Shane McMahon. Together we use the circumstances of the dream to fuck shit up for the NYPD. *Shane O Mac Dream* *VIOLENT*

The Many Deaths of a Tabhead (August 2019)

Five years after getting hooked on a new drug called Tabs, I find myself in an endless loop of getting murdered. The only way out is to survive. Too bad I have no memory, and everyone wants me dead *Original Story Featuring IRL People* *VIOLENT AND DISTURBING*

Champion of the Faerie Queen (December 2019)

Did you know that Marissa McMahon is the Faerie Queen and Shane is her consort? Neither did I. And, it seems, when war comes a calling, it’s up to me to save the McMahons and the country. But I’ve got superpowers now, so that helps. *McMahon Family, MCU, and DC Universe Dream*

To Earthquakes, Lovers, and Newfound Friends (May 2020)

In lovely SoCal, I’m watching a movie when an earthquake strikes. I soon find myself both blind and badly burned. The only hope I have to survive is a certain pair of lovers who just happen to be in the area for some R&R. *Zowens Dream*

Penny and Kicks vs The World (June 2020)

As a longtime WWE employee, I’ve been best friends with Shane for years. But in the fallout of Coronavirus, the public is looking for a scapegoat. Vince is more than happy to offer up my father. Now, the entire wrestling world is in turmoil and Shane and I are just trying to weather the storm. *WWE Universe Dream* *VIOLENT*

Virginia Gothic (October 2019)

In a world where my highschool sweetheart and I never broke up, we must forge a path on our own through hardship and rejection. But what is the meaning of the mysterious Jesus statue? And why is Bacchus being so damn shifty? *Original Dream Featuring IRL People*

Uzil (January 2020)

An mystical being from the horsehead nebula takes up residence in a little boy’s guinea pig. The miracles come quickly and soon they are inseparable. *Original Third Person Dream* (I wasn’t in this one)

The E-Manual (February 2020)

The end of days is drawing near. I have been chosen as a prophet of the end times by the Almighty himself. I must go out into the world armed with only scripture and a mystical magazine, trying to convert as many people as possible before time runs out. *A Mostly Original Dream* (Shane’s in the last two pages)

Seraphina and the Seven Wishes (April 2020)

The world is a video game and the McMahon’s are the Addams family. It only gets weirder from there. *McMahon Family Dream*

A Matter of Science (And Opinion) (May 2020)

I accidentally set fire to my apartment during a spell. I’m promptly arrested and call The Doctor as my defense. Sadly, the call is rerouted to Stormcage and SpongeBob SquarePants ends up on the case instead. This one is every bit as absurd as it sounds. *Doctor Who and SpongeBob SquarePants Dream*

A Revolution In This Century (Enter Me) (November 2019) The year is 2027. Climate Change has decimated the globe and revolution has reduced the Ruling Elite to food reserves. However, absolute power corrupts absolutely, and soon the new ruling poor become as ruthless as the 1% had been. In this horrible dystopia, I am a powerful government official who has taken on the McMahons as consorts for the sole purpose of saving their skins. *McMahon Family Dream* *VIOLENT, DISTURBING, AND A BIT SMUTTY*

Crystal Vision – A Dozen Birthdays (December 2019)

After showing kindness to an enchantress, I am given my hearts greatest desire – a place in Shane’s life. I am sent back in time to 2005 as a WWE Makeup tech and given 12 years in the life of my childhood heroes. But a lot happened in the WWE from 2005 to 2017 and not all of it good. How much can and do I dare change? *WWE Universe Dream* *Painfully NKC. Disturbing subject matter involved because 2007 is a thing.*

Dr. Slime and the Wondernerds (August 2019)

Three high school nerds find themselves in possession of a mysterious green substance. When it explodes during an experiment, they find they have been given superpowers. However, this is the real world and super-powered “freaks” get picked apart, not celebrated. Can the teens resist using their powers? *Original Third Person Dream* (I’m not in this one)

Planeswalking Like A Grecian (October 2019)

After death, Xena finds herself on the Astral Plane. Promptly running into Joxer, they must find a way to survive the dangers of the afterlife. But don’t worry. Gabrielle has a plan. *Xenaverse Dream* (I’m not in this one)

The Foresight Curse (June 2020)

The problem with knowing the future is that you usually don’t have the ability to change it. So when Radar O’Reilly realizes Henry’s fate the day before it happens, he has to spend the next day trying to drown out the feelings of dread and sorrow, if only for the Colonel’s sake. Funny thing though, sometimes fate takes a left turn and you get a second chance to say goodbye. *M*A*S*H Universe Dream* (I’m not in this one) Vampires, Wraiths, and Shades, Oh My! (December 2019)

In the middle ages, I am orphaned at a very young age by vampires and taken in by Vampire Hunters (AU Shane and Stephanie). Now a teenager, I fight alongside them to protect the world from the dangers of the night. *McMahon Family Vampire AU Dream*

WHEW! I’m pretty sure that’s all of them! I have so dang many dreams it’s hard to keep track of them all! Anyway, out of all of these, only a handful are finished, ONE is published (Death of a Fangirl) and a ton of them aren’t far past the sketch stage. So, this is my list. Every story on here I at least have sketched out. I doubt I will ever even bother writing many of these, but the intent is present.

[faiththefox]

The Sun of the asylum Chapter 2: Meeting the patients

Sorry its taken so long to post this Ive got school and there have been some big storms in my area so I have put my laptop on charge just in case. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy.

@uirene you wanted me to tag you with every chapter so here you go! lets start the story

@ask-the-new-killer (I wrote this a while back just check the Sunlily tag next time! I’ll try to tag you when I finally get around to the third chapter lol)

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

I wait in the lobby of the asylum for the head nurse so I could find out where my on-site room is and get a tour of the building. I stand there for only a minute before a women her 50′s comes in with a very sour look on her face. She huffs at me before extending her hand out to me. “Welcome Miss.. Rose was it?” She says as I mumble “Its Tori.. rose is my surname” to which she ignores me. “I’m Miss Rachael and this is the Hills asylum the home to some of the famous killers in history more commonly know as the slashers. You are going to be replacing me as the head nurse of this facility so its best to give you a tour now before meeting your patients” She drones on as she starts walking. 

She lead me around the asylum showing me all the activity areas available to the patients ‘although she commented on the fact they shouldn’t have to have them for murders’ I think back as she showed me each of their rooms. It seems like all the brothers were roomed together while Billy, Micheal and Jason were put in their own rooms. The place wasn’t as big as I thought but this just means there should be better chances of getting closer to them right?  Suddenly, Rachael brought me to a room completely covered in Christmas decorations “This is billy’s special places.. as he calls it. This is where you bring him if his “fits” become to much.” She says bluntly before pulling me away and started leading me outside. 

There they were.. the Slashers. Micheal was throw flat rocks at what looked like a makeshift person. Bubba, Chop-top, and nubbins were playing tag and running all around the place. Bo was leaning on a wall looking very pissed off while his brother was sitting by the fence drawing in a sketch book. Jason was also sitting near the fence but facing more towards the woods with his shoulders slumped down almost... sad looking. Brahms was just sitting smack dab in the middle building a very sad looking castle out dirt but the weirdest thing was billy who was chained to a bench with a straitjacket and muzzle. I look over at Rachael who waves her hand out over the yard “Why don’t you go meet them while I go finish getting the last bit of paperwork ready for you then Ill show you their activity planner so you know what they do on which days.” She bluntly says again before walking back inside.

I start walking over to Jason cause something was pulling me over to him. I sat down in the dirt, getting my uniform dirty, before looking at Jason tilting my head. He turns and looks at me as I notice what he had been doing. In the dirt was a a childish drawing of a little boy and what looked like an older woman. My eyes widened as I realized that this was him and his mother. “Do you miss her?” I say softly as he kept looking at me. He looks back at the drawing before nodding with his shoulders slumping down more. I gently placed my hand on his shoulder and smiled “I miss my mom to sometimes but all I need to know is that she loves me with all of her heart” I spoke gently before Jason hugged me surprising me. I forgot to meet all of the other slashers as I just sat with Jason telling him stories my mom told me about herself. Soon Rachael came back outside and walked over to us which made Jason tense up. “I see you are getting close to Mister Voorhees. Shall we head inside?” She says in her dull tone. I nod getting up as Jason turns back to the woods and his little drawing. 

We walked inside and did everything that was need before she lead me to my room. Giving me the key before walking away leaving me to my own devices so, I start to unpack and put all of my stuff away. As I putting away my Brahms costume my phone started ringing from my purse on the bed that I had just pulled out of my bag. I pull it out and check the caller I.D and surprise surprise it was my brother Alex “Whats up bro?” I say as I answer the phone. “Hey! How was your first day..? Did you get hurt?” He asked and I could hear the worried tone in his voice. I laugh before replying “No but Jason seems to like me now! I told him.. about mom” My smile faltered as I said the last part. Our mom had died two years ago during her trip around the world... She was walking around Paris and her heart-rate got to high... they couldn’t save her. Alex was quiet before I say “I didn’t get to meet the others so its going to be a crazy ride tomorrow.” He laughs halfheartedly. We chat for a few minutes about random things trying to get our minds off of mom for a moment because her death hurt us terribly. 

We said goodbye and I finished putting away my stuff before flopping into my bed and passing out almost as soon as my head hits the pillow.  

~~~~~~~~~~The Next Morning~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up to the sound of loud knocking on my door. I jump up and walked over to the door opening it forgetting I didn’t change last night so I probably look like crap. At the door was a young nurse about 20, I guessed fresh out of college or nursing school. “H-hello Miss Rose... umm Miss Evans wanted me to tell you today is the day you get control to see how to do with the patients...” She says in a shy and nervous tone. I place a hand on her shoulder and smile “Thank you for telling me and call me Tori! Also don’t be nervous around me Im only older then you by 6 year hahah” I say jokingly. She nervous smiles back before rushing off to something. I shut the door and quickly see that my hair was a rats nest and my outfit was a bit wrinkled. I groan as I brush my hair out but decide that I wouldn’t have much time to change and headed out the door. 

I head to the dining room (it was to small to be a cafeteria and seemed more like a dining room to me) and see all the slashers sitting at the table but no food in front of them. “Hello I’m the new head nurse Tori! Sorry for the quick intro but why don’t you guys have food?” I quickly question. “I dont know you tell me? Man you are shit head nurse” Bo says making glare at him before walking into the kitchen area. “I’ll make something does anyone have any requests for breakfast?” I call out to me through the window thing as I put an apron on. “PANCAKES!” Three very hyper voices call out making me laugh. I quickly make a chocolate pancake recipe my mom used to make for me. Then I put the two pancakes from the huge batch on 9 separate plates. I brought two out and sat me in front of Jason and bubba before running back and trying to being the plates out as quickly as I can.

Everyone dug in quickly after I set all the plates down expect for Micheal, Jason and Brahms. I sigh walking back into the kitchen and making some toast for myself as I used all the batter for their food. After 30 minutes I walked back in to see everyone’s plates were clean making smile just a bit as I grabbed everyone’s plates to put them in the kitchen. I walk back in and smile “Ok guys today is a free day so I can fully get to know each of you guys!” I say with a happy tone. Everyone (expet for the ones with masks) looked happy and rushed off but billy grabbed my arm as I walked to follow the rest out. I only then noticed that he wasn’t wearing the muzzle or jacket today. “Flithy pig..” he softly mutters and I see that his eyes aren’t fully focus which made me a bit sad. I lead him to his christmas room and set him down. His face lights up and he starts playing with all the toys in the room. 

Billy finally got focused with a coloring book I was able to leave the room and start to check on the others. The first group I found was the sawyer brothers listen to the radio and playing with some blocks. I knocked lightly on the door frame when the music went to commercial making them all look at me. Bubba clapped his hands and run up to me hugging me practical lifting me in the air. “Whoa! Bubba can you please put me down!” I say laughing a bit with a smile which I guess he didn’t expect the me be happy? I could see his eyes widen behind the latex mask the replaced his original one. He giggled setting me down as his brothers started chanting “Bubba’s got a girlfriend behind him”. I smile and say “Just wanted to see how you guys were doing! and if you needed anything!” Bubba nods and points at the blocks before pulling me over to them. Chop-top laughs and says “He wants to play with ya! Good for ya!” as Bubba and I started playing for an hour before I had to go. Bubba was happy and waved as I left to go check on the others which lead me to the art room where Micheal, Brahms and Vincent. 

I watched Vincent work with the clay making a beautiful statue of an alicorn before I was snapped out of it by Brahms’s childish whining as Micheal grabbed one of the colored pencil that he wasn’t even using. I walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder like I did with Jason and the young nurse. “Is there a problem sweetheart” I ask defaulting the nickname out of habit. I could see Brahms’s eyes widen as he looked up at me from his coloring book on the table. He shook his head before turning his head back to his coloring book (which looks like greta and him making me sigh in my mind). Micheal didn’t even look at me as he worked on this beautiful looking mask so I left him alone. I left and found Jason by himself outside looking at the forest again. I walk up and gently put a hand on his shoulder like yesterday making him turn to me. “You missing her again?” I ask in a soft tone but he shook his head. He made a drawing of eyes “You want to just look at the woods because you like nature?” I guessed making him nod his head quickly. “Mind if I join you?” I ask making him nod as I sit down next to him. This was a good start as any I guess.

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

FINALLY DONE IM SOOO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO MAKE THIS! IVE BEEN SO BUSY BUT HERE IT IS! HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY! IM GOING TO GO DO RANDOM STUFF LOL!

Also She didn’t find Bo because he was hiding away from her so he didn’t have to deal with her. 

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Additional, useless, but maybe fun info on His Smile Will Keep You Safe

Bill and Charlie were not originally planned to be brothers until i told one of my (two) friends about it, and they immidetly went “Like the Weaslys?” so I just HAD to use that one. Their last name, Bellete, is French for Weasel, the mean nickname the Weaslys get called by Draco Malfoy

Jay, Charlie, Lucas and Bill are inspired by the technichians (and in Lucas’s case the tour manager) who I saw working for idkhow in Berlin. There were two guys setting up the stage, one in a plain blue shirt, looking so unnoticeable that he would have been invisiable if I hadn’t paid attention, who inspired Charlie, and one with a beard, black rimmed glasses and a base ball cap who inspired Bill. Jay was lookwise based on this roadie who helped carry the cases with equipement to the touring van, but I gave him dread locks instead of an afro like the guy had. And Lucas is plainly based on the looks of the tour manager

In Köln, when I was waiting for my second iDKHOW show, long after I had finished writing, and after the first few chapters were up, I saw a guy who played in a band in a venue next doors, and he looked exactly what I had always Luis imagined to look like. Seriously, if I had to cast people for the characters, I'd cast this dude as Luis.

I wanted the reader not to be the only woman on tour, so I added Lisa for the merch; the guy who I had seen at the idkhow show got cancled (I’m sorry, dude, even though I don’t know you), but he was super kind and just had some sort of peace about him which I packed into the “fatherly” side of Lucas which we get to see when he talks to the reader after her panic attack

I knew pretty early on that I wanted to include the incident with the stolen equipment from last year, and when the idea with the drugs popped into my head, it made sense to have the bus stolen in order to hide the drugs

Originally, before I created the characters in detail, I wanted the drugs to be smuggled by the lead singer of the opening band, which would have been Jay, but once I was finished with his profile I was like “no, he’s to innocent”, and decided to have it be the most unexpected character (apart from Ryan and Dallon), which was Lisa

Originally I had the reader’s appearance based on a mix of my other friend (who got me into iDKHOW in the first place) and myself, before I changed it to be a little more general. The idea was the reader to have a side cut, like myself, and long, brown, curly hair like my friend.

Also based on my friend’s appearance was the idea that somewhere in between the reader tells Ryan they always wanted pink hair, so he drags her to the hairdresser where they get her hair dyed pink.

Since the story is set in August/ September 2019, Ryan’s hair should be brown. Actually I wrote him brown haired until I asked my friend (the one with the pink hair) and they answered:

If Ryan’s hair would have been brown, and I would have included the hairdresser scene, he’d have gotten his hair dyed blue again, because “damn, I miss the blue”.

I did not include the hairdresser scene, because the only time it would have found some space, was during the time the bus got stolen, and it just seemed weird to have the the characters go “Hey, our bus and all the equipment got stolen, but let’s go dye our hair. Who wants to join?”

Lars is based on the guy I was in love with during high school (but we were never together), who probably still fucks up my self-esteem when it comes to anything that goes into the direction of flirting (aka he treated me like a piece of shit). I like using him as a template for the bad guys, I also wrote about him in “The Red Dress” (Patrick x Reader), and “Someone Who Loves You As Much” (Dallon x Reader).

All the cities they visit in the story are cities in the US at which iDKHOW played in that order during this year. But I pulled everything closer together, eg also skipping the dates in Europe.

I saw iDKHOW on a Wednesday in June. Since the day before, Tuesday, I had planned on writing a Ryan story (but only a short one), after the concert I knew it would be a longer story. I actually started writing while lying in bed in the hostel, next to my pink haired friend, who had fallen asleep already.

I wrote into tumblr drafts, three of them, which I’ve never done before. The first one is the very first sketch of into which direction I wanted the story to go.

The second entry was the reader meeting Ryan in the street (and it’s basically unchanged, except for Ryan’s hair colour) and the third one was the conversation in which the reader’s boss tells her about the contract

On Friday (two days after the concert), on my way home, I had a stop in a huge train station, before getting on the train that would take me home. I didn’t have wifi, so no tumblr drafts to write into, so I got a tiny booklet into which I scribbled the prologue, the second version of the story arch, and the characters

I can’t read half of the stuff I’ve written into that note book anymore, because it’s a MESS

What does that even say? I don't know.

 Jay was originally called Kay. I have the name written like that in the note book, and it was Kay in the first Chapter. But somehow I continued with Jay, and then I changed it in the first chapter, once I noticed it.

Pretty handwriting, I know. Anyone who has ever told me to write more neatly is only receiving the worst scribbled Christmas cards.

The opening band is called “Three Beats” as a mixture of “Three Cheers (for Sweet Revenge)” and “The Beatles”

 Lisa is actually the name of my sister’s best friend, who is a super lovely girl, but somehow it was the first name in my mind after I knew she’s be the bad guy

After the scene on the bridge, Ryan was supposed to get ill, and the reader contacts an old friend of hers (a doctor), who happens to live in the city they currently are in.

I was considering doing some scenes with Ryan randomly filming her for Instagram stories, like her spreading sunscream on her arms and he joking about her showing off her muscles and silly stuff like that.

I did not know how I wanted the two to get together until about a page before I wrote it. In the notebook I wrote that Ryan overhears the reader tell Lars off when he tries to flirt with her again, telling Lars that she’s in love with Ryan. This happens directly before Ryan goes on stage before the last concert, but he only confronts her after the show backstage. Then two days before Ch13 got posted I changed it again. Until then I had it written out as the reader following Ryan outside the bar, they talk and make up. Well, I decided it wasn't enough heartbreak.

The boy who helps the reader when she confronts Lars about what he told Ryan, is based on a boy who I met at the idkhow concert. Except that it was him who got bothered by a girl and didn’t know how to defend himself, and when he mentioned this in the break between White Room and iDKHOW, the girls around him jumped into defense mode. (I actually got into a staring duell, which is why I was able to describe the fight over dominance between Lars and the reader, because I basically starred her down and was very self concios during that short discussion (according to my pink haired friend it looked impressive, even thogh she didn’t understand a word because we were talking german; I felt more like an angry hamster))

Hamster Picture

 I wanted there to be eleven chapters, but because I also wanted certain chapter cuts towards the end, it turned into thirteen. And then I added onto ch13, and now there are 14 chapters

In my word documents, the original chapter 13 is called "ch-13" (still thinking about publishing the way it originally was, like a deleted scene) the chapter you got to read as 13 is called "ch-13.2", chapter 14 is "ch-14" and the epilogue is "ch-13.b"... It's messy.

 Doing the moodboards was fun but so much work… never again (how much do we want to bet that the next long story comes with mood boards again, because I’m stupid?)

In the scene in the diner, the reader orders a strawberry milkshake, because Ryan’s smelled so good. I wrote that because when i was in Berlin to see idkhow, my friend and i went fruit shopping, and i couldn’t resist the strawberries bc they smelled so nice

[ememchan8]

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. PLEASE… PLEASE DON’T READ THIS. THIS POST IS FULL OF NEGATIVITY,  BITTER AND PETTY RAMBLING… BUT I JUST BADLY NEEDED TO VENT....

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Me: *finished the work for the day* Me: *decides to take a day off the next day and plans to draw something I love and been wanting to draw for a long time.* Then life decides to fuck up with me: *My drawing tablet suddenly had issues, so I had to spend the money (that was just enough to get me by for a month and pay the bills) to get my tablet fixed or just need to buy a new one because I need it for work* 

*Drawing tablet gets fixed/I managed to buy a new one but I’m broke as f*ck and doesn’t know how I will I survive for a month or the months after.*

*My whole days off were spent in getting my drawing tablet fixed or had to spent them for a very exhausting commute to the big city to find and buy a new drawing tablet, instead of being able to have the time to draw what I want. Also I’m too exhausted, stressed and anxious from thinking I’m going to be broke as f*ck for the whole month and lost the will to draw the thing I want*

*Now that my drawing tablet is ready, life decides to f*ck with me again when the next day, the electricity in our house keeps flicking on and off by itself. It was only happening in our house. The electricity in the rest of our street is fine.

*Electric company had it checked and fixed, or so we thought. Several hours later, our whole house lost its electricity again for more than 12 hours. Then, we found an electrician. We had our power lines checked and the power is back again.

*Our electricity is back (not sure how long it will last), but then my phone decided to go kaput (don’t have the means to call the Electric company/technician anymore just in case our electricity go kaput again, too). Our electric stove also decided to go kaput and now I had to spend more money again to buy a new stove (not an electric stove this time, but something that is fueled by kerosene gas) because if I don’t, we won’t be able to eat. And apparently, I’m going to be broke again this month because of these. 

*Honestly, it’s probably just me. But I feel like my holiday is full of bad luck, that I’m starting to expect that the next thing would happen is that a plane would suddenly crash land on our house or the kerosene gas in our new stove would suddenly explode, or a burglar would suddenly break into our house, steal our valuables (though we barely have any) and murder us in our sleep. Or maybe, our house would suddenly burst into flames. Either I’ll die or I’ll end up sleeping in the street and starve there to death with excruciating burns. 

And then I remember how my life has been so f*cked up since I was a kid. I grew up in a poor family with a drunkard and jobless father (who used to go violent when drunk) and a mother whose religion had forced you to be converted in it through your relatives’ peer pressure and it f*cked up your childhood until you had grown into an adult and it was too late before you realized that you should have gotten out of it years earlier. But it’s too late. You have missed so much in your life because of it, and it f*cked you up so good, you had social anxiety and depression issues.

The religion who brainwashed you and for more than 20 years and made you live in fear of the world and of yourself for doing the little mistakes that you believe will get you punished by God for. The religion that made you believe that standing up for your self is wrong so you ended up constantly getting bullied in school for years because fighting back is wrong! And that everything will only be solved if you just pray. The religion that made you anxious and paranoid of drawing an art that they might interpret as something that symbolizes the devil’s work that might get you punish through burning in Armageddon. 

My childhood and teenage life was so miserable that I barely see any difference now.  In conclusion, I’m starting to think that my life isn’t getting any better. No matter how much I work hard for it in hopes of changing it. Man, I believe I’ve already tried my best so many times. I’ve been working so hard. But my body is starting to give in. It seems that even if I keep working hard, hoping that my life would get better, nothing is getting any better. Life won’t even let me have the time to draw the things I love anymore just for the tiny amount of happiness and brief solace because it keeps fucking my life over and over again that I’ll probably going to spend the rest of my life constantly fixing it! Even if I was able to draw several sketches, afterwards, suddenly, my life would be bombarded with bad luck as if it’s telling me to finally stop drawing! That I shouldn’t dare do something that I really want and makes me genuinely happy because I’m not allowed to, otherwise there will be consequences How dare I become happy, right!?

Nothing good is happening in my drawing career anymore either despite all my perseverance and hard work that I’m starting to think that maybe I should just change job and career and give up on my dreams.  I mean, I should have known from the beginning. I’m not one of those artists who were born privileged in a well-off and supportive families, who can afford to draw whatever the f*ck they want and are easily to achieve their dreams without worrying about life f*cking them up like how life f*cked up my life. 

I wish I could look for another job but then my body has become so fragile and weak recently, that I’ve been constantly having health issues that I couldn’t even travel in the next city without constantly getting dizzy and throwing up and always catching illness along the way. Heck! I can’t even afford a simple health check- up anymore because I have no time nor money for it.  I need to constantly work to earn back the money I spent for fixing these life’s f*ck ups instead.

Maybe I’m better off washing plates in a cafeteria or whatever and accept the fact that life wants me to be miserable for the rest of my life. I should know my place, right? That happy ending is NOT meant for me. I’m that miserable background character in a novel that readers don’t give a shit about because I’m not the hero/heroin who is meant to have a happy ending after their struggles. I’m just the mediocre character who is meant to be miserable all her life and soon will be forgotten. Heck, I haven’t even gotten a single nice dreams for a while now either. I can’t even afford to be happy even in sleep. I haven’t been getting enough sleep lately, too, anyway. 

If the rest of my life is meant to be like this, then I don’t want it anymore. LOL! I wish I could end it myself but I’m too much of a coward. But I’m sure life hates me enough not it’s not even going to let me die a painless death in my sleep. LOL! I mean, one time I tried to overdose myself with sleeping tablets years ago but I seemed to have just developed an immunity from it that I had insomnia instead or maybe those sleeping tablets were fake! I’m sure I won’t be able to acquire real sleeping pills anyway without the doctor’s prescription – Doctor that I can’t even afford anymore.

I’m also getting tired of constantly pretending to be optimistic and okay, because I don’t want my friends to worry. Negativity like this is so contagious that I don’t want to vent it directly at them; I don’t want them to catch it. They don’t deserve it. I want them to be happy. I don’t want them to be as miserable as me. But I’m just really getting tired of everything.

[tuulikkink]

PORTAL - the art expo

Stress... Anxiety... Rush... These were the things I was feeling while trying to draw my piece for the exhibition. My brain felt like a empty plastic bag filled with slime, and it was impossible trying to catch a thread from one thought or another. Portal... What comes to my mind? A room of a teenager? A song that takes you away from where you are? Yes. Something like this. I also tried a little bit more direct approach and sketched a mushroom gatherer, who finds an ancient portal. I really liked the sketch, but the idea seemed... shallow. It needed more work, and I struggled to settle on an idea. I was also getting feedback from my teachers, that my ideas are superficial and there’s no feeling in them. I had to agree, which only annoyed me more. But I had learnt to take in constructive feedback over the summer, so now I was able to let it fuel me.

Now that we had found a venue, the curation team needed to do some shopping... There were many things that needed to be decided, one vital one being how we would hang the work.

On one Tuesday, I was the only person present from my team. I could hear my ears ringing as I realised that I would be the one speaking for the whole team...! I felt pressure building in my head... I can do this, I told myself. Just breath. Confidence. Thank god we have the most amazing person as a lecturer on this module, and she was very supportive. I told everyone, that the size would have to be changed from A4 to A3, as the exhibition space was so large. I took notes on things that still needed to be done, and sent updates to our curation chat. C promised to start looking for frames and other ways to hang the work, and R and H said they’d search for decorations for the space. We had gotten the permission to use tables and sofas from the Jacob’s market, so we didn’t need to worry about those. People from our class were also able to bring in cameras and speakers, so those could be considered done too. I talked about budget from our university, and my lecturer promised to look into it, and help with covering the printing costs. This was amazing news, and I felt elated. She also mentioned, that one person from each group should attend a vinyl cutting workshop held by our university, and naturally since I was the only curation team member there, I put my name down. We would be able to have a smaller exhibition, kind of as a tribute I guess, in the space outside of the classrooms. This would give attention to our actual exhibition happening elsewhere, and it would also bring the artists visibility within our university. Me and a few other people from my class took some measurements of the space, and designed what could go where, and what would need to be moved.

The following week was busy. The location team was buying food and drinks for the opening night, and the curation team was finding decorations and mounting equipment. Then came troubles... I tried contacting the man from the Jacob’s market, but he didn’t reply to any of my emails. I had sent a few, and it had been a few days so I was getting desperate, but thanks to my amazing teammates, we were able to reach then by phone and we settled everything. Then... We had the first big fight. This was regarding the food and drink side of the exhibition, as this girl I have told about before was unhappy with the food and drink arrangements the people who were assigned to it had done. In my opinion, they had done alright, but there had definitely been conversations, that I hadn’t heard of. I didn’t really had anything to say to this except that the bossy girl has to learn to let other people to take responsibility, and she has to learn to let other people decide. I found it unfair she took their job and they were left with nothing to do. Well, on the drawing side, I had made some progress. I wasn’t happy I had done this again: I have a tendency to not listen to others and I’m too stubborn when it comes to certain things. As I wrote in the last post, I was struggling to find a good idea. Well, now I had found it, and it was completely different than what I was going for before, but because I was running out of time I just went with it without even telling about the idea to my lecturers. I know this is a very stupid way to work, but I felt too much stress from being so behind with the drawing process, that it felt like the fastest way forward. I had also learnt to trust myself slightly more during the summer, so I convinced myself, that this was the right way to go.

She is a girl, and when she puts on  the headphones, the music takes her to another world. She’s here, but isn’t. This is my portal.

Beside this, I had prepared some prints to be sold at the exhibition opening night. This was a way to make some extra cash, and I love stalls; meeting people, seeing them buy my art, seeing how it connects us in some unexplained way when it makes them feel something... I didn’t want to turn down the opportunity. 

It was also time to send the exhibition pieces to print in a few days, and a huge load was lifted from my shoulders, when my amazing lecturers told us that they would take care of that for us. I was so happy, as I still had quite a bit to do with the exhibition piece itself. 

The next few days passed in a blur: sending my finished piece for printing, coming up with a name for it, designing placards to go by the artwork for the exhibition, cleaning the exhibition space,... There was so much. I had gotten ill a few days before this all, so I honestly pushed through these events with the power of paracetamol. I don’t have many feelings about it all, because I worked like a robot, from task to another, as quickly as I could with as little rest as possible. There was also problems with promoting, or actually, the lack of it. There wasn’t much publicity and the social media handles were quiet. It was only a few days before the opening night, so we needed more action. Everyone in the class posted the event on Facebook; this way we were hoping to gain more publicity to it. The problem with me is that all of my family and friends live in other countries, so me sharing the event wasn’t much help... But at work, I tried to talk about it with as many people as possible; it was a free event in the end, and if they didn’t have anything to do, they could come see it! It was now two nights to the opening night, and the curation team started prepping the space. This included cleaning the venue, arranging sofas, chairs and tables, decorating the space and testing the mounting technique. I had been shown magnets on ebay by one of my lecturers, and he suggested we could use the magnets and small nails to hang the work. It sounded like a good idea at the time, but when the magnets arrives, they were way too weak to hang the A3 artwork. So, a few of us quickly ran to the nearest artstore and brought plenty of masking tape, which is very strong, but leaves no marks on the walls after peeling it off. This, we tested too. Just in case, because the owner had told us not to damage the walls.

In just two days, everything was ready for the exhibition to open the doors. My fever was running high, and I felt weak and sick, but the pride from having out together something this amazing overrode the nasty feelings. The prints had arrived the previous day, and together with the whole curation team we had hanged them on the walls; colour coded. It was all ready for people to see. It was ours for the weekend; that’s what the old man had told me when I had paid for renting the venue for three days. His friendly smile still made me feel, like this was our space. For three days.

And so came the opening night... And when you looked through my portal with Artvive app, the silence would turn into music and transport you into another universe...

It was over. So much work had gone into just three days of exhibiting art, but it had all been worth it. The experience taught me, how important it is to establish clear roles and a schedule for everyone, and most important thing of all is to be patient, talk to one another and learn to listen. This also showed me, that I still need lots of practise on my time management skills... Working for eight hours straight to finish animating my piece made me shed tears, and the fever didn’t help anything. I think I might have even gotten ill from all the stress I was feeling trying to get everything done and hold it all together. I also had gotten better in communicating what need to be done, if one compares me to the person I was in the summer. The work placements had made me grow thicker skin, and I could better put a border between me as a person and myself, and me as an illustrator and as a worker. All in all, I loved being a part of the Portal exhibition class, and I felt so proud of us all as a class, but also the curation team; we had all done amazing job, and even though I was left on my own a few times, I could still count on my team to have my back. They had done most of the shopping, and I had gathered information and made lists of the things that needed to be taken care of, so it all worked out together. I couldn’t have asked for better team members.

This is the end. That was Portal. Thank you for taking your time to read, and if you will, message me if there’s something you were left puzzled about, or jus tto leave any comments on my writing. Lots of love, Likki

[ominous-horse-noises]

What are your OC's

I LOVE MY OCS SO MUCH ASDFGFDS IM VIBRATING but if i actually got into their characters and backstories and the overarching plot this’d be a 15k post and no one deserves to have to scroll past that so ill keep it shortish:

im not finished sketching their designs yet so i used a character maker to give u a rough idea

Reina Nagasaki: Empress of the Nagasaki dynasty. Can speak 5 languages and yet still cant tell Hoshiko she’s in love w/ her. An absolutely useless pining lesbian. Despite appearances shes pretty emotionally driven, which is why Hoshiko is literally the only thing keeps her from unintentionally fucking up all political connections.

Hoshiko Masae: Royal advisor and childhood companion of Reina. Literally never asked for any of this. Likes being bi, doing stuff for the hell of it and not being the cause of a huge war with hefty civilian casualties :)))) Has so much love in her heart for life and everyone in it and no one can take that away from her!!! Reads a ton of philosophy books and is a master swordswoman

Haruna Saito: Empress of the Saito dynasty. w|w, if ur girl didn’t start a war over you then she needs to lift her game. Also she’s 6ft bc im gay and i make the rules. Often has good intentions, but due to her naturally selfish nature thanks to her upbringing, fails to deliver. 

Saki Nakahara (Saito): Commander of Armies (Saito dynasty). Secretly Haruna’s little sister but we ain’t got the time to talk ab that. Devotes herself to her sister’s command completely, which leads to some crippling trauma since Haruna is sort of unintentionally selfish like 78% of the time. 

Chouko Asano: 5ft of pure killing power. no fr she’s the world’s deadliest assassin and also very short. can be summed up using :3. She’s so bad at flirting but she grew up in the woods so cut her some slack. Freelance assassin and part of the 0.5% of the population that is magic compatible. 

Kaori Matsui: Ambassador and chief diplomat for the Nagasaki Dynasty. Case of resting bitch face but she’s literally so patient and motherly??? wishes guys would stop hitting on her Please shes a lesbian and she doesnt like it!!! sort of hates being flirted with in general tbh shes either too flustered to properly respond and accidentally brushes them off or it makes her uncomfortable!! hasnt slept in a week bc all these bitches cant clean their own damn messes.

Michiko Sakaguchi: Princess of the Sakaguchi kingdoms. Initially shy and somewhat reserved, she’s actually rather shrewd with a surprisingly sharp tongue. First in line to rule the largest of the various territories that make up the rest of the supercontinent not under the control of the Nagasaki or Saito dynasties. Hates it when people don’t take her seriously.

Kichiro Asano: Chouko’s twin brother. if Chouko is :3c then Kichiro is >;3. equally bad at flirting as his sister, but instead of staring unblinkingly for 1.3 hours at his crush he’s just,,, constantly using bad pick up lines. Smug little bastard, owns two kittens. Is also an assassin, but way less infamous than Chouko, mostly does small time murders. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Bonus:

Haruna: I have never wanted for anything. Anything i could have possibly desired has always been within my reach, at the snap of my fingers. As is such, this world bores me, for there is nothing for me to strive for, to obtain. 

Hoshiko: hey

Haruna: i will literally die without u

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Ties in Blood -- Chapter 29

A repost from my other account. I was shookth when I saw I got this account back. I honestly hadn’t expected this one back. I’ll make a post about that after I post this.

Major apologizes for not getting this done sooner for being out of work for the past like 2 months. I seriously shoulda had this and maybe another one and a half done before now. But job searching and other RL stuff took president. Two: Damn you, Chuck. This is gonna fuck up what I have planned for Aaliyah after the Amara fight going forward. It brings up the question would he do to Aaliyah what he did to Jack? I’m half looking for someone to bounce ideas off of without giving away everything for everyone. And now I’m rambling.

@mrswhozeewhatsis @winchestergirl-13 @impala-dreamer @percussiongirl2017 @idreamofplaid @squirrelnotsam

Chapter 29

Aaliyah pushed through the crowd toward the house. She heard several people yell after her to not do it; let the professionals do it. The fire and ambulance teams were still a few minutes out and would be too late to save the children trapped in the house. Aaliyah was there and tossed her life into the wind. She choked on the smoke filled living room, her breath caught in her throat. A hand brought up the collar of her shirt to cover her nose and mouth.

“Kids,” she called out, diving deeper into the house. “Come on, make some sound.”

Something hit a wall upstairs and Aaliyah swore she heard something bounce a few times before it stopped. Her eyes watered from the smoke as she climbed the stairs. Faint crying came from one of the rooms. There was a child no older than two standing up in the crib. Aaliyah picked up the crying toddler and turned back for the hallway when the ceiling caved in. She stumbled back a few steps as she half turned to shield the child, hitting the crib. Some small part of Aaliyah’s brain registered pain, but she ignored it to focus on getting out of the room.

The burning pile was big enough to make getting out difficult. With a silent apology to both the toddler and the parents, Aaliyah charged the pile and leapt through.

“Mommy,” a child called followed by coughing.

Aaliyah followed the call, her mind telling her to forget the child and worry about herself. She fought back the urge as she turned into the bedroom. Half of it was already covered in collapsed ceiling, with one or two piles burning away. With a cough that threatened to bring up a lung, Aaliyah dove in and found the child and pulled them in front of her.

“Go, don’t stop for me,” she told the child.

Aaliyah kept a hand out in the odd sense of comfort that she’d be able to tell if the child was still in front of her. Back down the hall and the stairs and out the front door.

EMS and fire fighters rushed over and took control of the children as Aaliyah hacked away from the smoke. She pulled away when a hand touched her arm before her mind snapped back to see a fire fighter. The danger was gone. Two more lives had been saved, and she could go vanish into the night. But with the gentle yet urging hand on her arm told her vanishing wouldn’t be a good thing.

She followed the fire fighter over to an empty ambulance where the EMS cut away her burned and smoked clothes in order to tend to her burns. One handed her an oxygen mask.

“Where’d these come from?” one EMS asked, tracing the werewolf scars on her back.

“Bear attack. Stupid luck had me at the wrong place and time.” Aaliyah wasn’t sure if the two techs actually believed her or not, but they didn’t press the issue. She stayed still and quiet while they finished up tending to the burns.

“You got lucky,” the first EMS told her. “Most are first degree burns with a few that are second. Some of the first degree might turn second, so just keep putting on ointment and keep them covered for a few weeks.” He finished putting on the final bandage.

“Thanks.” Aaliyah handed the oxygen mask back to the other EMS and eased herself out of the ambulance. She adjusted her jacket over her body. It had been the one thing that had somehow survived the fire.

“You look familiar,” the second one spoke up. “Haven’t I seen you before?”

Aaliyah’s heart threatened to burst out of her chest. “I doubt it.”

“I swear you look like the one ER nurse that had saddled a patient and stuck a needle into their chest to expand a lung.”

Aaliyah chuckled as a corner of her mouth pulled into a smile. “I think you’ve got your nurses confused.”

“I think I heard about that,” the first EMS said. “A friend of mine at that ER said that the nurse who did that seriously worked outside the box; and the higher ups didn’t like that. A shame, really.”

Aaliyah tilted her head, a mix of confusion and curiosity. “How so?”

“Not to speak ill of the nurse or the hospital,” the EMS said. “But word has it that the last time she had been seen, the night she got fired, was the same night she supposedly put a curse on the ER department and rode off in a black Impala. The ER’s had a string of bad luck ever since.”

“You really think this nurse cursed the ER department just because she got fired?” After nearly three years, Aaliyah hadn’t really thought about the hospital or what’s happened since.

“Kinda hard not to think it since half the staff that had worked with her spoke of her as if she was some sort of supernatural connection,” the second EMS said. “And the other half not liking what she’s done because, quote, she didn’t adhere to policies and procedures.”

Aaliyah gave an amused huff more to herself. To think after all this time she was seen as somewhat of a legend back in the ER. “Well, even if I was this nurse you’ve heard of, I doubt that who I was then isn’t me now.”

“I’d say so,” the first EMS said. “Never known a nurse to run into a burning building to save a couple kids and come out with smoke inhalation and mostly first degree burns. Especially with a new tattoo.”

A phone started ringing, startling all three. Aaliyah padded at her pockets and fished out her phone as she walked away from the ambulance. “Fisher.”

“Aaliyah, it’s Sam. We need your help.”

She cast a glance back to the EMS that treated her packing up. “It’s about Lilith, isn’t it?”

***

Aaliyah glanced over to Dean when he shot up in bed. She sat hunched over the table with a lore book open at a page with a sketching of what a hellhound might look like. Anything she had been dealing with was dropped when Sam called for help. Both brothers had gotten on her for being reckless in running into the burning house and getting her wounds.

She didn’t tell them that she gone in to clean up the mess from another hunter who had gotten in way over their head. Aaliyah wasn’t sure what happened to that hunter since the house fire.The cabin door opened and Aaliyah reached for her knife before a reassuring hand rested on her shoulder. She had pushed past her body’s demands for sleep in the effort to figure out how to stop the hellhounds.

“Dig up anything?” Sam asked.

Aaliyah shook her head. “Nothing good.” She turned back to the book.

“Bobby has. Finally. A way to find Lilith.”

“Oh?” Dean shifted on the bed and looked at his watch. “With about thirty hours to go.”

Aaliyah ignored Dean when he started going off on last minute ‘I want to have fun before I die’ requests. She flipped a page while Sam made the meager attempt to reassure his brother that they weren’t going to let Dean go to hell. There had to be a way to stop the whole thing. The thought of going out and summoning a cross-roads demon passed through, but where would that get anyone? Dean might be saved for a time, or he’d be going down with her in ten years. If the demon was willing to do that.

“Here, Kid,” Bobby’s voice drifted into Aaliyah’s dream.

She heard the sound of a cup being placed on the table near her head before footsteps walked away. She reached for the cup of coffee even before she opened her eyes and pushed up to sit. The table had been freed of the books and a map of the United States took up the free space.

“What’s this?” Aaliyah asked when Bobby put a device onto the map.

“A tracking spell. All you really need is a name. Right name and spell, ain’t nothing you can’t suss out.”

Aaliyah sipped a the coffee, still hating the bitter taste of it. There probably wasn’t enough sugar or flavoring in the world to cancel that out. She sat there and listened as Bobby started the spell to locate Lilith.

“New Harmony, Indiana,” Bobby said.

“Alright.” Aaliyah put down the cup and pushed herself to her feet. “Let’s get going.”

“Whoa, hang on for a minute,” Dean called after her.

“What? We know where Lilith’s at, and…”

“We’re going off of Bela’s intel,” Dean countered. “And we don’t know if Lilith even holds my deal. Even if we can get to her, we have no way to gank her. And third, what makes you think we’re gonna let you go in on this one?”

Aaliyah blinked a few times. “What makes you think I’m gonna sit this one out? Or let you three leave me on the sidelines? How many times do I have to tell you that I’m involved now; way too involved. I’m going in with you.” She narrowed her eyes at Dean, daring him to do something.

“Just ‘cause I have to die doesn’t mean you all have too,” he countered.

“Then what’s the plan?” Sam cut in. “We go in smart or we don’t go in at all.”

“If that’s the case, I have an answer.”

Aaliyah shifted her eyes between the two brothers. Her stomach started turning with the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

“You do?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. A sure-fire way to confirm it’s Lilith,” Sam said. “And a way to get us a bona fide demon killing genus.”

“Damn it, Sam, no.”

“No?” Aaliyah chimed in.

“Sam here has a brilliant idea of calling for his demon friend Ruby,” Dean told her.

“A demon?” She turned to face Sam. “Are you nuts? After all the trouble we had with yellow eyes and Meg? We don’t need the added problems.”

“Exactly,” Sam said. “And we don’t have time or choice.”

“Come on, man,” Dean cut in. “She’s the Miss Universe of lying shanks. She said you could save me. Uh – lie. She seemed to know everything about Lilith, but failed to mention that she owns my soul.”

“Fine, she lies,” Sam agreed. “But she has the knife.”

“For all we know she works for Lilith.”

“Can we really trust this Ruby?” Aaliyah asked. “I mean if she’s lied about stuff before, what’s to stop her now?”

“Sam’s right,” Bobby put his opinion into the conversation.

“No, damn it.”

Aaliyah took a step back from Dean.

“Just … no,” he continued. “We’re not making the same mistakes. You want to save me, find something else.”

Aaliyah felt more than actually saw Bobby turn and leave the cabin. She attempted to get further into the book before her head bobbed.

“Get some sleep, Liyra,” Dean told her. “Between the two of us, you need it more.”

She shook her head. “Gotta find … something to help.”

A hand grabbed her arm and guided her up over to the bed. She didn’t fight it.

“Just a few hours,” Aaliyah agreed as she laid down.

**

Aaliyah stuffed the piece of paper into her pocket before she reached the door. She wasn’t sure what to do with the number the burly biker guy gave her, but it could be useful at one point in the future. Darting down the stairs, Aaliyah nearly missed a step.

“And who’s this?” called a female voice Aaliyah didn’t recognize.

“Get back upstairs,” Sam and Dean called at the same time.

“Like hell I’m not,” Aaliyah replied, reaching the floor. “Especially not when you refused to listen in calling…” she looked over the woman who stood a half foot shorter than her. “Ruby.”

“She’s cute,” Ruby commented, moving toward Aaliyah.

“And you’re not gonna put a finger on her.” Dean moved to place himself between the demon and Aaliyah.

“I’d like to see her try,” Aaliyah challenged. She raised a hand and pulled down her collar to reveal a bandage taped to her chest over her hear.

“What’s that?” Sam asked.Aaliyah heard the protective brother tone in his voice. “Oh, a tattoo. It’s supposed to be a shaded in pentagram and circled by shaded in flames.”

“You mean like this?” Sam showed her the same tattoo.

“The same exact one.”

“You all think that’ll save you?” Ruby asked. “That a tattoo will stop hellhounds from coming after Dean here?”

“No, but I hear of a certain knife of yours,” Aaliyah cut in. “That’s gotta be useful for something, right?”

“Why would I give you my knife?” Ruby asked. “Sam’s carrying a bomb in him, and we’d be stupid not to use it.”

Aaliyah kept an eye on Dean while he paced. “I don’t know about this.”

“Just hold on for a minute …” Sam started.

“Come on, man,” Dean cut him off. “Are you blind? Can’t you see this is a trick?”

“That’s not true,” Ruby countered.

“She wants you to give into this whole demonic psychic whatever,” Dean continued. “Hell, she probably wants you to become her little Anti-Christ Super Star.”

“That’s not it,” Ruby yelled, anger in her voice. “I want Lilith dead, that’s all.”

“Why?” Aaliyah dared to speak up.

“I told them why.”

“Right, yeah.” Dean moved enough to bring Ruby’s attention back to him. “Because you were human once. And you love kittens and long walks on the beach.”

“I’m sick and tired of trying to prove myself to you,” Ruby shouted. “You wanna save yourself? This is how, you dumb, spineless dick.”

Aaliyah blinked once before Dean swung at Ruby. She managed to hold Sam back from the fist fight between Ruby and Dean. Sam frees himself from Aaliyah’s hold and got hit to the floor. Aaliyah aimed for Ruby with a lineman’s tackle move, but the demon side stepped the attack. Her hand brushed against the hilt of a blade and grabbed hold. She pivoted around to see Dean next to her and Ruby facing them and smiled. Aaliyah coughed to clear her throat and gained their attention.

“Missing something?” Aaliyah held up the knife. She grinned even as Ruby gave a ‘you bastard’ look

.“I’m gonna kill you.” Ruby charged at Aaliyah.

Aaliyah stumbled back a few steps when Dean tugged at her jacket.

“Like I said,” Dean said. “I knew you’d come.”

Aaliyah felt the nudge from him to follow. Circling around the demon trap, she reached the stairs and headed up. Part of her knew that Dean wouldn’t let her stay down there for long, or leave her alone with Ruby.

“That was risky,” Dean turned on Aaliyah when they reached the main floor. “Too risky.”

”What was so risky about it? No more than anything else I’ve done before.”

“This isn’t some demon or salt and burn, Liyra. We’re going up against Lilith.”

“And how’s some high powered demon any different from Yellow Eyes? Or did you forget I was involved with that as well? You know what?” She held up the knife before putting it onto the table. “Fuck this. You don’t want me involved; I’ll go find a case to work.”

Aaliyah saw herself out of the house. Her mind warred with itself while she crossed over to her car. It was down to the wire in their effort to save Dean, and he didn’t want her involved with taking out Lilith.

“Aaliyah, wait,” a voice called out after her.

“Why?” She spun on a heel to see Dean chasing after her. “So, you tell me what a horrible mistake it is for me to be involved again? After all the shit we’ve been through, you think that it’ll be easy for me to step aside while you and Sam go after Lilith? You think she’s more trouble then Yellow Eyes, and you don’t want me there. Fine, I’ll be out somewhere on the west coast somewhere hunting something.”

A hand grabbed her wrist while she turned for the car.

Aaliyah swung back around, a fist balled and in full motion for contact. The fist was grabbed and Dean pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her. Her body froze in confusion. It was so unlike Dean to show any sort of emotion, other than rage after bottling it up for so long.

“I don’t want to see you hurt,” he said in Aaliyah’s ear. “I’m a hunter. Comes with the territory.” Dean pulled away from her. “I mean it. If anything goes sideways for us, I want you gone.”

“Got it. Now, are we gonna go gank this demon or not?”

***

Aaliyah shifted in the backseat while Sam tried to have a quick heart to heart with Dean. The thought of putting her music on passed through her head; she had thought ahead of time to bring a selection of CDs and her player. Fishing the player and a CD out of her bag, Aaliyah shifted around to stretch out across the bench.

From the front seat, Dean started singing along to “Wanted Dead or Alive” that was playing on the radio. For as good as the song was, she wasn’t in the mood to listen to it. Not with what loomed on the horizon. Time passed and Aaliyah was on the edge of consciousness; the rumble of the car’s engine threatened to send her completely unconscious.

It had that eerie call back to when she was riding with the brothers on the crazy mission to find their father and taking out Yellow Eyes; with her in the backseat trying to figure out where she fit into the hunter’s world, Dean driving and his choice of classic rock music playing, and Sam in the passenger seat reading. What didn’t fit was the loud sirens that forced itself into Aaliyah’s sleep.

“…Pulled over?” she muttered as she worked into a sitting position.

“Got a busted tail light,” Dean tossed back at her. “Go back to sleep.”

“Not when you might do something stupid.”

Aaliyah adjusted herself even as Dean pulled over to the side of the road. She smiled politely to the officer when he shone his flashlight into her window. Keeping quiet while Dean dealt with the officer, she fought back the feeling that something was way too off with the officer. She jumped back when Dean threw his door open against the officer before climbing out of the car. Sam waved her back while Dean stabbed at the officer. A hand touched her shoulder, alerting Aaliyah that someone was there.

“What just happened?” Bobby asked.

“Dean just killed a demon,” Sam answered. “How’d you know?”

“I saw its face, the one under that one.”

Aaliyah pulled away from Bobby and went to hunch down at the officer. “We need to move the patrol car.”

Sam nodded and moved for the car.Aaliyah followed after while he managed the vehicle into a wooded spot and started pulling on branches.

“How’s it that you’re seeing demons now?” she asked when she put the last branch on the car.

“I’ve seen lots of crazy lately,” Dean said. “Just … nothing like this.”

“Actually,” Bobby cut in. “It’s not that crazy.”

“How is seeing demons not crazy?” Aaliyah asked.

“Think about it. Dean’s got about five hours to go and is piercing the veil.”

“A little less new age-y please.”

“You’re almost hell’s bitch,” Bobby put it blunt. “So you can see hell’s other bitches.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Aaliyah turned her head at the noise that Sam was making to join them. “Think about it. Lilith knows we’re coming. And she’s bound to have demons all over the damn place.”

“We can’t be letting them sounding the alarm,” Bobby said. “She knows we’re here; and we’re dead before we start.”

“This plan’s terrific,” Dean half complained. “So excited to be apart of it. Can we go now?”

Aaliyah watched him storm away from the spot. There had to be a way to stop the deal. They were at the one yard line last year with the Hell’s Gate and Yellow Eyes. Same thing here with the deal.

**

She darted between shadows, hearing the hushed voice of Bobby telling her not to show off. Her mind had gone full Hunter mood now that they were so close to Lilith. Even if the deal couldn’t be broken, killing Lilith would be nice. Aaliyah stopped at a house, using it to hide, and waited. One dark house on the street has a “For Sale” sign in the yard; the one where Lilith was. A hand guided her back away from the ambient light.

Aaliyah noticed that Bobby had taken her spot with Sam, who was using a pair of binoculars to spy on the house, standing behind him. She could sense Dean standing behind her. The usual line up plus one. Even when he was facing down death, Dean was making sure she was safe.

Aaliyah saw Sam step out from behind the house and reached out to stop him.

“You crazy?”

“Better then standing here waiting for ‘em to kill us.”

“See the real go-getter of a mailman?” Dean pointed out. “Doing the rounds at nine pm? And Mr. Rodgers over there?”

“Demons?” Bobby asked.

“Yes,” Dean answered.

“Okay, fine,” Sam said, shifting his weight. “We …. ninja past them and get in.”

“Then what? Give a ‘Columbian necktie’ to a ten year old? Come on.”

“I know it’s awful, but this isn’t just about saving you, Dean. It’s about saving everyone.”

Aaliyah glanced over to Bobby when Dean gave in. She followed after the older hunter while the brothers went off in a different direction.

“Here,” he said, handing over a rosary. “Doubt you learned how to make holy water in the past few years.”

Aaliyah shook her head, keeping the comment of killing demons was easier. Doing the hard work to get into the water pipes, she repeated the words Bobby told her and dropped the rosary into the pipe.

“How do we know if it worked?”

“Wait and turn the sprinklers on,” he said. “Listen, kid. This is gonna go bad tonight, no matter what we do. Can an old hunter get a last request?”

“You want me to get out of hunting? I can try, Bobby. Let’s get through tonight, huh?”

“Fair enough. Go meet up with the boys, I got it from here.”

Aaliyah nodded and headed around to the front where Sam was struggling on picking the lock. “Need some help?”

A scream brought her attention up to see Dean and Ruby running up to the house. Aaliyah pulled out a knife and stepped out away from Sam straight for Ruby. The sudden waterworks of the sprinkler system sent Aaliyah back.Sam pulled Aaliyah into the house after him, followed by Dean and Ruby. Aaliyah glanced around as she took up a spot behind Sam as he led the way through the house with the knife.

A creak from behind turned her head. She stepped away from Sam even as Dean took up a spot behind her. Reaching out, Aaliyah held the knife in a way it would be the first thing to move in attack. Dean opened the door to reveal the father.Aaliyah put a finger to her lips to tell the father to keep quiet.

“We’re here to help. Where’s your daughter?”

“It’s …” he stammered. “It’s not her anymore.”

Aaliyah leaned in closer to him, eyes narrowed. “Where is she?”

“Upstairs; bedroom.”

“Now, go down to the basement and put a salt line down in front of the door behind you,” she instructed.

“Not without my wife.”

“Yes, without your wife.” Aaliyah saw another refusal and punched the man.

She moved as Dean reached in for the man, shouldering the limp body. Her eye caught Sam and Ruby moving for the stairs. Aaliyah found the salt in the kitchen and headed downstairs after Dean, putting the salt line down after he dumped the father. She darted up the stairs and took the flight to the second floor two steps at a time. Dean thumped up behind her, pushing past when they reached the top.

A scream echoed from a room. Aaliyah charged for the room on Dean’s heels. He stopped Sam from putting Ruby’s knife into the girl.

“It’s not Lilith,” Dean said. “It’s not in her.”

Aaliyah glanced between the girl and her mother. It wouldn’t be much of an issue for a high ranked demon like Lilith to pull back and let the human have control. That much she remembered from dealing with Yellow Eyes. She brought up the rear of the group as they headed downstairs. Aaliyah half heard Dean instructed the mother and child to remain in the basement no matter what they hear.

She walked into the living room and glanced out the window to see the sprinkler system still acting as a barrier to the demons out on the street.Somewhere she heard Sam and Ruby bicker back and forth about what Sam had to do to save Dean. Aaliyah turned back to the group and saw Sam take a breath.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said. “This is all my fault, I know that. But what you’re doing isn’t gonna save me. It’ll kill you.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

Aaliyah heard Sam’s voice crack just a little and fought back her tears. “Keep fighting. Take care of my wheels. Remember what Dad taught you. Okay?”

Aaliyah nodded along with Sam. She startled when the clock in the other room started chiming midnight. Her breath caught in her throat when the first rumble of a hellhound rolled into the room.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Ruby said, remorse in her voice. “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.”

Aaliyah wiped away her tears and pushed her feelings deep before she turned in the direction Dean pointed at. She hadn’t the chance to stand her ground before a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her along after them. First into the office, Aaliyah bounced on the balls of her feet, waiting to close the doors. Sam helped to brace them closed while Dean put down a line of dust in front of the doors. Aaliyah heard Ruby ask Sam for the knife, claiming she could fight it off.

“Why would he give you the knife?” Aaliyah questioned, her head tilted to a side. “I mean you’ve barely lifted a finger to help all night.”

“If she can manage it …” Sam countered, pulling out the knife.

“Wait!” Dean rushed over. “That’s not Ruby.”

Aaliyah took one step toward Ruby before being flung against a wall, knocking the wind out of her lungs. Gasping for breath, she barely registered the conversation between Dean and Lilith. Using the wall for support, Aaliyah managed to gain her feet just as Lilith turned her attention on her.

“You know,” Lilith started. “You should have taken that message to heart and gone back to school.” She put a gentle hand to Aaliyah’s cheek.

“And miss out on seeing you squirm?” Aaliyah gave a half smile. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“You got nerve,” Sam called over to Lilith. “Besides, you got me. Let them go.”

“Don’t you worry, Sam.” Lilith turned her attention over to him, removing her hand from Aaliyah’s face. “And if you wanna bargain, you need to have something I want.”

Aaliyah struggled to prop herself up against the wall and watched Lilith stalk toward Sam.

“This is your big plan,” Dean told Lilith. “Kill Sam, drag me to hell, and leave Aaliyah here? Then what? Become Queen Bitch?”

“I don’t answer to puppy chow,” the demon retorted.

She moved over to the door and opened it. “Sic him.”

A scream tore at Aaliyah’s throat, scratching it up as the hellhound pulled Dean off the table and onto the floor. She fought against the force that held her against the wall in the effort to save Dean. Sam’s voice was distant as he pled to Lilith for it to stop while Dean’s screams of pain mingled with Sam’s voice. The force that held Aaliyah to the wall broke away, allowing her to slide on her knees toward a bloody and torn up Dean.

A light breeze crossed her skin, sending her hairs to stand on end. She ignored the hellhound and checked for a pulse. The hand pulled back slow as Sam circled around and cradled Dean. Some part of her picked up that the hellhound was gone, and Sam was in the middle of an ugly cry, but Aaliyah’s mind had checked out.

[capaldisrighteyebrow]

I don’t need a bodyguard! -spacedarcy

@spacedarcy​ This has taken a while. And it’s not exactly finished…but it’s going somewhere. Modern AU fluffiness. How did I get here?

He’s run through half of his speech for the fifth time that afternoon when a series of short knocks interrupts his train of thought. Muttering a few more lines, he crosses the room, fumbling with the remaining buttons on his freshly pressed, tailored shirt before giving up and opening the door to his suite.

“Oh.” The girl’s head snaps up from chest to eye level so quickly there’s a possibility of whiplash. She’s no less befuddled by his face, it seems, for she asks, “Ben Solo?” as if she expected someone else.

“Yes?”

“You don’t look like your picture. You’re ol…your hair is longer,” she amends in accented English, shaking her head like her mind’s an Etch-a-Sketch and she’s reshaping lines from a new reference. “Sorry. I’m from…”

He’s already pieced it together and finishes her sentence: “From my uncle’s shop.” Ben turns back into the hotel room, waving his hand in a gesture that she should follow him inside. “You can leave the case on the table. I’m sorry he troubled you to bring them.”

He buttons his shirt all the way to the throat, then takes up the ends of his black, silk tie, looping them around with practiced ease, only half watching the knot form in the mounted floor-length mirror. His eyes rest on the girl’s reflection, taking in how her white knuckles continue to clutch the stainless steel briefcase despite his instruction.

“Is there something else?” he asks.

She clears her throat. “Luke didn’t tell you?”

He takes a deep breath. His uncle isn’t the most forthcoming, living like a practical hermit holed away in his shop, surrounded by antiques and relics of eras long since passed. Ben had spent his formative summers roaming through the dusty shelves that smelled of must and decay – it wasn’t a place he visited often, not anymore.

There was nothing to be gained by searching for answers in rare texts and historical artifacts, as his uncle had once wished him to do. Luke had been so focused on looking inward, seeking nirvana through meditative retreats, that he’d forgotten to look around at the suffering of the world. Ben, with his ambassador mother’s influence and his own company’s impressive reach, was determined to do something about it. Global crises required present action and future commitments. It’s why he’d dedicated his life to combining technological advancements with humanitarian efforts.

He smooths the tie against his chest, assessing the final look; he fiddles with the knot. “What is it?”

In the mirror, she shifts her weight from foot to foot in her black flats. Wearing khakis, a white blouse, and a navy blazer that’s too tight in the shoulders and too broad in the waist, she looks like a kid dressed up as an FBI agent for Halloween. Her hair is the only kept thing about her: secured in a low bun that makes her look years older than Ben suspects she actually is.

“I’m attending the event with you.”

Ben’s hands tighten the silk a hair more than comfortable, thrown off by her statement. “Excuse me?”

She brushes her hand next to her ear, though there’s no stray hair to push back. A nervous tick, perhaps. “I’m going along as security.”

He turns and narrows his eyes at her. It’s hard to determine the amount of muscle, or perhaps weapons, hidden beneath the ill-fitting garments. Still, it doesn’t matter. “I don’t need a bodyguard,” he dismisses.

“I’m not–” she starts, then cuts off the thought, as if calculating her approach, trying to gauge how he’ll react even before she delivers her retort. “I’m not here for you. I’m here to ensure these make it back to your uncle.”

He blinks – once, twice. “You’re here to protect my accessories?”

She places the briefcase on the coffee table in front of the loveseat, putting in a combination and scanning a fingerprint to open the latches. The girl turns the case in his direction; inside are a gold watch ringed with an inlay of diamonds, an equally bedecked tie clip, and golden cufflinks in the shape of dice which belonged to his father. She waves her hand over the family jewels like she’s a model on The Price is Right.

“Luke said they’re invaluable,” she reports. “Irreplaceable.”

His uncle may be on to something there, but it doesn’t change Ben’s attitude about having a shadow all evening. Growing up as an ambassador’s son, he’s long since had his fill of someone watching his every step. Then there’s the fact that he doesn’t wish to wear the pieces in the first place; it was only at his mother’s insistence that he agreed, only at the reminder that the award he’s presenting is to honor his late father that he gave in.

“They have more sentimental value than anything else. There’s no reason for you to stay,” he repeats, taking up the watch and sliding it over his wrist.

“With all due respect, Mr. Solo–”

“Ben,” he abbreviates with a wince, finally understanding why his mother hates when people address her as ma’am; he doesn’t want to be a mister anything in this girl’s eyes. “Formalities aren’t necessary.”

Her shoulders set against the friendly shift in his formerly detached tone. She won’t be turned from her duty. “I don’t take my orders from you.”

She’s staring him down more intensely than any sponsor or politician ever has, all over some baubles that his uncle dug out of the Skywalker vault. She looks just as ready to lay him out on the floor as she looks ready to protect him from red-carpet thieves. And, while he wasn’t sure at first, he now believes she’s capable of both.

Ben decides then that he likes her – that even as his exasperation grows, so does his respect.

His curiosity has always been an insatiable thing, and it’s found someone new to whet its appetite. They’ve only just met, but he finds himself with a list of questions on the tip of his tongue. Everything from the mundane, comprehensive where are you from? types to the ones which will synthesize her personal philosophies and life goals into a deeper understanding of who she is. He wants to listen as her dreams fall from her full, pink lips.

Restraint, he scolds himself, tamping down on the romantic notions that pop up suddenly, unexpectedly, while meeting brown eyes that seem to see him, not the founder of a startup so successful that they can hold a celebratory gala. She’s here for a job, not a date.

“Fine,” he acquiesces, sliding the tie clip into place and holding out his hand to her for the cufflinks. “I guess that makes you my plus one.”

An eyebrow stretches tall as she drops the cufflinks into his open palm, then retracts her hand. “Does that actually work for you?”

His neck heats, and he does his best to look sheepish. “What? You’ve been tasked to keep my uncle’s valuables safe, haven’t you Miss…?”

If you want to know her, you should probably start with her name, he thinks belatedly.

“Rey,” she finishes, not backing down from the way he leans forward into her space. She isn’t intimated.

“Rey,” he repeats, drawing the name across his lips slowly. And, just like that, he needs another day – maybe a week – to understand her, to have the opportunity to say her name again and again.

Her eyes go dark, arms crossing over her chest. “I can do my job from the sidelines.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” His grin is a challenge as he secures the cufflinks in place and shakes his wrists to settle his shirt. He moves to the closet and unzips the garment bag holding his suit jacket, then slips into it with a shrug. “I’m only trying to make your job easier, Rey.”

“You are, huh?” She takes a step toward him, closing the distance between them in a bold move that stirs something within him.

“As my guest, you’d be able to keep your eye on…things.”

He nearly says me but chickens out at the last moment. It’s been a long time, too long, since he’s tried to openly flirt with anyone. It’s not something he should be focused on anyway: he should be focused on the queasiness rolling through his stomach at the thought of the speech he has to deliver in a little under two hours.

“Oh, I won’t be letting you out of my sight,” she guarantees, casually pulling the lapels of his jacket closer, as if she’s done it for years. She taps her index finger against the jeweled tie clip. “Alright. You’ve got yourself a plus one.”

“Excellent.” His hand motions up and down in the air, indicating her attire. “Of course, you can’t go like that.”

Now it is her turn to flush with color, though she quickly places her hands on her hips and puffs out her slight chest; it practically grazes his own. In a pointed tone, she reminds him, “I dressed to blend into the background.”

“Something that will be remedied, post-haste,” he assures her.

[veryfineday]

Saturday 23 April 1825

6 5/60

10 3/4

.. [Anne’s period] 

From 7 3/4 to 10 10/60 wrote the few last lines of the 1st end, the whole of the 2nd a great deal under the seal, all very small and close, and crossed the 1st page of my letter (began on wednesday part written on Thursday and finished this morning) to ‘madame madame Barlow, Quai Voltaire no.15, Paris’, all which read over, wafered, and directed, and gave for George to take to the post-office –

I have had no time to make extracts but it is very affectionate  say she will perhaps ssee me again before the all off[er]ed two years are expired write as if having no wish but to make her my wife §§  yet say she knows ‘the hard necessity of circumstance that clings around me now’ bid her do what is best for her own interest and for Janes §  for her sake I can forget to be selfish nay more than this abhor thought bid her ‘not sacrifice a certain good for the upncertain prospect of making happy one whose affections she had gained forever but whose hopes of happiness had waked not from their sleep of years till roused by you to live and tremble once again’ § – all this brought on by my saying I had been taken by surprise altogether tho I ought not to have been by the reappearance of her ‘old beau’ that is Mr William Bell §  said I had not the same feeling of repugnance towards him as Mr Hancock between whom to again use her aunts words il nya pas de choix  in point of gentility Mrs H[ancock] nothing beyond her bright grates in bread street but bade her not atten[d] to me but make other inquiries  said I did not mean to reflect on her taste she had seen Mr H[ancock] ‘in ignorance and at Place Vendome two reasons taken conjointly quite enough to excuse the whole thing’ –

she would not ruin me in postage – if her letters cost no more than now and she write regularly every fortnight of her life, they would only cost 47 shillings and 8 d.pence a year  a sum far greater than which I should save by the habits of economy her regard had taught me – why did she not marK the little volumes?  § Rousseaus Nouvelle Heloise  she herself was the only one to whom I would give  did she think I could now make such presents to others perhaps she would soon become what she was pleased to call ‘more rational’ without much effort  ‘you have taught me much untaught before and surely I must strangely learn that hardest science  to forget [wh]ere I can associate another with those sentiments which you have chastened and refined  there is a little sacred record in my memory that would star t up into life against me’ were I to give these too interesting volume to any other than herself – had before all this bidden her not tell me any more of her being an injury to my future prospects etc. etc. §  they we were good enough to content me I wanted nothing more than I was likely to have ‘save that most difficult to gain of all possesions a heart in unison with my own’ –

§ alluding to madame G-[Galvani] ‘They are who thinK but little or tomorrow or of yesterday – are they the happier? I doubt it much – Then are, too, who have no faith in worlds to come; who have no stay for thought to rest upon, and, with whom, it would ‘destroy their paradise’ – when ‘we go hence, and are no more seen, who ever much remembers us, save that lonely one within whose heart our shrine was raised?’ 

ThanKs for her present of the Environs of Paris – I should con it over and plan some litt[l]e excursions for us  concluded my letter with bidding her tell me everything and ‘remember it is the gentle beam of affection not the meridian blaze of intellect that makes happy the heart of your affectionately attached AL’ –

vide last wednesday page 285. no observation made on mrs. B-’s[Barlow’s] letter because I had not time – 3 pp.pages long ends, and a great deal under the seal, all very small and close – § very very affectionate ‘a diversity of objects and scenery saved you from the intense misery I have suffered’ and she goes on to describe feelings much more intense than I had ever dreampt of her experiencing for me it ended in her being ill and having a great deal of fever for which Mrs Guantlet made her take calomel etc. § ‘I became so ill I had so much fever that I composed letters in my brain to your uncle telling him that your return alone could save my child from being an orphan’ – ‘so thin am I that my rings are laid aside I kept losing them every moment’ – about the going to Edmonto[n] etc. she says ‘I know not how to express all my obligation none but yourself could have acted as you describe the invention and decision was unique and the desc[r]iption capital’ –

§ Mr William Bell her ‘old beau’ had called and sat two hours with her making it evident he would offer if he thought he had the smallest chance of being accepted § ‘when I saw him..... I asked myself is that the man who caused much a sensation in our families how altered how changed in every respect’ – ‘would that I had but one day more of your dear societyelf in this ssalon I have so many things unsaid which perhaps we may never meet with op[p]ortunity to express but to tell you truly I must have many days of your society to induce me to undergo the agonized feelings I endured the days which followed your departure I thought I was near my end not that I fear death but on my childs account not that I love you less  but that I feel satisfied you would be decidedly better provided for without the burden of my acquaintance which can only prove disadvantageous and imprudent in being encouraged I must stop op my pen for I know non [not] what my light head would scribble on to say the best thing I could do with this sheet would be to consign it to the flame my next I trust will be more rational god bless and prese[r]ve you you know all I would say adieu CMB’ thus ends the third page –

Her aunt writes that mr. de Lancey speaKs highly of me – Jane has got the SKetch booK with ‘which is extremely well bound – I never saw Jane so delighted with anything’ § – of madame G-Galvani ‘I do not Know anyone who only thinKs of the present so much as our friend – all her actions, even in respect to economy, portray the same character’.... my letter sent off from London on the monday reached mrs. B-Barlow the Thursday following (the 14th April) – and was charged 24 sols – written on my very thin French paper and wafered –

 §§ in my answer when on the subject  vide line 12 from the bottom of the last page slightly alluded to our connection none could possibly understand it but herself  said I still sighed § after happiness gone by with a sigh more deep and long than she might think ‘in the midst of occupation when the strong voice of duty and necessity call on our attention the mind may be diverted for a while but tis the hour of rest when we retire into ourselves tis then when wh fancy brings to mind what absence takes away and thought of happiness gone by disorders all the heart’ said my own room was perhaps the worst place in which to calculate my loss – in an earlier part of my letter had hoped that at all rates she would not be disappointed in me as a friend §  would have nothing to regret but my misfortune (this hard necessity of circumstance that brings around me now) nothing to reproach but my loving her too well  this would be my only fault towards her which I hoped she would forgive ‘and even its very faultiness may wear away with time for time may come when my regard maybe your own without another voice to claim it maybe your own as well from duty as from inclination §§ – in another part speaking of my regard for her calling for no sacri fice on my part my prospect were good enough  [?] and alluding to her thinking of Janes interest  ‘even pride forbids that all the sacrifice should be on one side’ meaning hers § adding ‘if you were as ssingle as I am  I should expect the same sacrifices from you I would in such a case make myself’ - 

Breakfast at 10 1/4 – came upstairs at 11 1/4 – had just written the part of my journal of today on the last page when (at 12 1/2) Cordingley said Dr. Kenny and mr. Sunderland were come (to my aunt) went down – went into the drawing room, where they were with my aunt, for 10 minutes – then waited their going, and followed them into the front stable – spoke to them for a minute or 2 – Dr. K-[Kenny] thinKs my aunt in a very weaK, suffering state – a very delicate subject to deal with – this catching – convulsive motion of the diaphragm which has come on so much within these last few days, the worst symptom – I see he thinKs her constitution much broKen –

she had a warm bath last night, and is to have one again tonight about 98º Fahrenheit – after coming up to bed last night, went down to see how Cordingley had ordered the bath – found the tub 3/2 to two thirds full of water at 170º - staid 25 minutes till Cordingley had put in cold water that reduced it to about 100, or a few degrees more – my aunt too was sitting by the lower Kitchen fire waiting all this time – very bad management – and the tub placed just under the oat bread racK

staid talKing to my uncle and aunt, and did not come upstairs till 1 3/4 – then wrote the whole of the last page which tooK me till 3 – from 3 1/4 to 5 1/4 wrote 3 pp.[pages] and the ends (tolerably close) to mrs. N-[Norcliffe] to go tomor[row] – easy chit-chat, in answer to mrs. N-’s[Norcliffe’s] letter on wednesday 3 pp.[pages] (quite full) the ends, and a good deal under the seal –

a very Kind letter – I had no time to make any observation on it on wednesday – anxious to Know that M-[Mariana] did not visit colonel BerKeley – ‘why introduce her to him at all – old as Jam, I would not be introduced to him’... § a man whose character is so despicable and well Known, that it did not want the addition of his treacherous conduct to miss Foote, to make him as I believe he is, most generally despised .... it is not the 1st trait of treachery to a female’... together with what I copied from M-’s[Mariana’s] letter in my last to mrs. N-[Norcliffe] and the remainder I have copied in this, conclude the L-s[Lawtons] did not visit him, but left mrs. N-[Norcliffe] to form her own conclusions –

§ on her 1st page mrs. N-[Norcliffe] writes ‘you and I suit very well; and, should I live and have my health next year, at this time, should much enjoy a sejour of a month in our capital (London) with you’ – answer after mentioning my uncle and aunt’s health, and saying Dr. Kenny had been here this morning to see the latter – ‘should they be well enough for me to leave them, next year, and this time, nothing would delight me so much, as a month with you in that 1st of cities, London – at all rates, I hope and trust, no flaw in your own health wil be the preventative’ –

Have asKed mrs. N-[Norcliffe] if she Knows anything of mrs. Middleton, daughter of sir William Grace, wife of Mr. Middleton of IlKley – mother of mr. Peter m-[Middleton] of StocKhill-parK who married Miss [Stourton] – wrote the above of this page read over and folded and directed my letter to mrs. N-[Norcliffe], and had just done at 6 –

Great deal of rain last night – rained from the time of my getting up, more or less, till about 3 p.m. – about 8 a.m. sent John Booth to desire nothing to be done at the foot path – no stones to be led, for fear of cutting Thomas Pearson’s field – Dinner at 6 1/2 – Did nothing in the evening – Fair this evening (vide the 4th line above)  Barometer 3 1/4 degree below changeable Fahrenheit 44º at 9 p.m. at which hour came up to bed – Reading volume 1 Rousseau’s confession and looKing at the map of England and that of France, for about an hour – E [2 dots inside] O [1 dot inside] – my cousin came just before getting into bed

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

Fic Writer Meme! tagged by @aban-asaara, thank you!! a nice meme to self-indulgently wind down with after a stressful day...

What is your total word count on AO3?

160,546. I had forgotten all about the AO3 stats page until having to dig that out, oops. I have more short drabbles etc on tumblr as well (and a LOT of stuff I just... never finished/posted anywhere).

How often do you write?

varies hugely depending on what else is going on in my life. In good times, I aim for daily, at least 500 words. During years I participate in NaNoWriMo, 1500-2000 per day in November. Other times I just can’t make even 500 happen with work/etc. Still more other times, my depression kicks in and I’m pretty useless at everything, and unfortunately go months with no writing at all. 

Do you have a routine for writing?

I try to write in several short bursts. If doing 500/words/day, then two chunks of 250, and some editing/planning on top. If during NaNoWriMo, 4 chunks of about 500 words each. If I really push myself to get them done in sections, I spend less time fiddling around, but the break between them makes it still relaxing/fun.

I also have a computer/document setup that works very well for me. I write on a laptop that can scroll between several different ‘desktop’ screens. I have one for fun stuff, and set one aside for writing. The only browser window/tabs allowed to be open on that desktop are writing-related ones--research, youtube clips of scenes, wiki articles, etc. All other fun stuff goes on the other desktop where it can’t distract me while I get through a section. Then over the browser I have two word documents: one on the left titled “[StoryTitle.docx]”, and one next to it titled “[StoryTitleNotes.docx]”. On the left is the “final version” of what I’m working on--aka the working document, with the most current edits/chapters/etc. The right “Notes” one is for outlines, summaries, lines I had to delete but might want to use somewhere else, passages I haven’t gotten to yet but wanted to sketch out before I lost the inspiration for them, quotes that I want to echo the feel of, copied dialogue from the game so I don’t forget it, etc etc. Anything related to the story in the working document that I might want to reference. The notes doc can be fairly messy--my level of organization for it changes from project to project. But it makes it WAY easier for me mentally to delete and tweak things when I can put them somewhere else just in case it turns out the first way was better. 

What are your favorite kinks/tropes/pairing?

Ohh... my pairings are pretty obvious, I’m really into Lavellan/Solas, Hawke/Fenris, and Shepard/Garrus. 

But what I’m really into is Hawke/the concept of found family and also various coping mechanisms+mental health issues; Lavellan/the weight of duty above all else, Shepard/the giddy knowledge that you won’t survive what you have to turn yourself into in order to save everything you love, Ryder+Sam/breaking the boundaries of what it means to be a single conscious entity...  

my big literary kinks are pretty much any narrative that has to do with one or more of the following: self-sacrifice, the transcendence of humanity in pursuit of a goal, the knowledge of the futility of one’s actions, the duality of self plus other, the terrifying and terrible beauty of rage, stubborn and violent perseverance in the face of insurmountable odds, the frailty of people who nonetheless fool everyone into believing they’re not broken. I am also a very big fan of nontraditional formats, and the meta-narrative of a story over usual structure. 

tl;dr: I like my fiction weird. 

Like... I recognize that most of my fics. Do not include a majority of these. And the ones that do aren’t really very popular. The one that gets closest to these concepts is probably the people you love become ghosts inside of you, and like this, you keep them alive which very few people read and got almost no attention. But I knew that when I posted it. I wrote it for me, after finishing the ME trilogy for the first time. The above tropes show up way more in my original writing, while I use fanfiction as a break from these more complicated/heavier themes, and to just have some fun with less technical writing. They’re there, just in smaller doses.

Fics with that sort of bend are WAY harder to search for than ones based on pairings though so like... if you have recs for anything that follows the above themes. please send them to me. i’m dying. please. 

Do you have a favorite fic of yours?

How can I not answer this with Fallout from the Fade? It’s my baby. It’s the longest thing I’ve consistently written, without getting bored and abandoning it halfway through. It will probably take me a while yet (depending on mental health/writing pace/etc) to finish but I know how it ends, and most of how to get there. It’s also the third fanfiction I had ever started writing. The beginning feels rough to me when I go back to it (which an inevitable fact of my decision to post as I write/not use beta readers, which I still think was the only way for me to do this story), but I still think a lot of my ideas were clever and my execution may not have been perfect but it was pretty good. I’ve learned a lot while writing this fic.

And also I love to make people suffer. Knowing that people have shed literal tears because of things i have written fills me with the delightful glee to push forward. 

But really. Comments mean the world to me. They spur me on through rough patches where I otherwise abandon works. I’m really not used to having an audience: most of what I’ve written in my life is original content that I don’t post/share. Having other people also invested makes me feel accountable, in a good way. 

Other honorable mentions: I think Grief is one of my best fics in terms of execution and balance. Less a man than a wild cat and A Slip of the Tongue were both exercises in pacing/timing as well as forays into the highly unfamiliar territory of comedy. The aforementioned the people you love become ghosts inside of you, and like this, you keep them alive satisfies my eternal desire for weird presentation and ideology taking a front seat over narrative structure (I have like. 4 other partial fics similar to this that will probably never be posted because I know they’re what I want to explore, not what other people actually want to read).

Your fic with the most kudos?

Fallout from the Fade, with 626.

Anything you don’t like about your writing?

I wish I was more consistent about sitting down and working. I managed it for 6 straight months when I started the fanfic gig, but to be fair, during that time I also had no friends and spent 5 days every other week camped out in Death Valley with no internet and nothing to do but write and brainstorm. Having the barest scrapings of a social life now that I’ve moved doesn’t do much for wordcount, it turns out.

Now something you do like?

I think I can write about mental illness realistically without it coming across as either overdramatic or idealistic. I like my descriptions, when I allow myself to use them (y’all don’t want to see how flowery most of my works would be without my self control). I have visibly improved since I started writing in 2015. 

i feel like a lot of my original circle on tumblr isnt active/writing anymore but gonna tag some people w/ no obligation… @leviathanmirror  @seekingidlewild @littleblue-eyedbird @loquaciousquark @kayla-bird and anyone else who wants to answer!! feel free to tag me if you do it, im lonely...