#this sketch is a bit unusual because the back view is just coloring in a photo I took of the sketch in Clip Studio

[blueoctopussss]

Been thinking about what Ashton's FCG-inspired vest might look like, so here is a sketch based on that! I'm not 100% happy with it and I feel like it should maybe have a quote from FCG on it or something, but I'm posting it anyway because not everything has to be perfect.

I did make a long sleeve variant because they need warm clothes for the journey to Aeor, but I don't think it looks as nice.

[sparkling-moonbeam]

Xiao x Reader (Genshin Impact)                 🍀A Subject🍀

A/N: It’s been a while since I posted something so here’s a Xiao one. Sorry, it took a while but I’ll try me best to write more since vacation is now here. Reader is gender-neutral. Hope you enjoy reading!

🍀💐🍀🍀💐🍀🍀💐🍀🍀💐🍀🍀💐🍀🍀💐🍀🍀💐🍀🍀💐🍀🍀💐

Black smokes and a pair of golden eyes. It’s the first thing that caught your eye as you arrived in the rooftop of the Wangshu Inn, a place that the traveler recommended on you as you told them you’re planning to go to Liyue, looking for a subject to sketch. The traveler warned you on the dangers you might encounter, making sure to remind you to call a friend of theirs in times of great danger and when you try to questioned it:

“He knows what to do. He’s an adeptus, a protector of Liyue,” they stated.

“Like a Knight of Favonious?” you questioned.

“You can say that…except the fact he works directly for their archon and really held great responsibility for the duties that the Geo archon laid upon him,” they explained further. “Oh and, please don’t forget to call him in case of danger. His name is-”

“Xiao.”

You uttered, staring into his golden eyes. You notice the black smokes surrounding him, you don’t know if it’s the effect of the teleportation he used or something else. You also take note of the spear he’s holding, the color same with the tips of his upfront hair. The once peaceful feeling on the terrace suddenly disappearing as the intense tension in the air completely evaporated it.

“How do you know my name?” He questioned, eyes squinting in suspicion. “You don’t seem like a citizen here. State your business.”

You blinked, “I-I’m from Mondstadt, I’m a friend of the traveler that-”

“The traveler, you say?”

As soon as he heard that, his whole demeanor changed. The black smokes slowly disappearing into thin air, clearing the whole tension that build up earlier. His grip on the spear relaxing a bit as he continues to inspect you.

“Did they send you here?”

His eyes remained looking at you carefully, maybe taking notes of your actions and what you might be up to. If not for mentioning the traveler, you might be in great danger now. Thank the Archons, the traveler warned you and lend you their knowledge for this trip.

“Not…exactly.” You answered, smiling slightly as you try to explain your reason. “You see, I came here because I need a new subject-”

“For what?”

“…Sketching an art. The traveler just assisted me on the things I should know before going here. They told me about you and to call you if ever I face something..really dangerous?”

He didn’t move an inch after your explanation. His lips remained in a straight line as he stared at you, processing your words before flipping his spear into the air which quickly disappeared in a blink. The movement making you flinch a little.

“The traveler’s right. In any case that you face something dangerous ahead, call my name. I’ll take care of it.”

He turned his back at you, looking at the view on the terrace as if scrutinizing every place around the inn. You watched as the wind blew, his hair dancing with it as the leaves on the tree fell into the terrace. You gently tiptoed to the side, not really going near him as it might put you in a bad situation. The sun reflecting half of his face add effects on what you were witnessing just right now. His gold eyes looking seriously but also faraway. You notice how the tips of his hair and his eyes seems to glow, you thought it might be because of the shade of the tree and the sun. His pale lips never moving an inch, remaining still like before.

You were too busy taking notes of everything you’re seeing. It’s perfect, way too perfect, in all honestly. The timing, the lighting and him, it’s pretty. A beautiful sight that you’re actually witnessing right now. A smile escaped your lips as you were taken in by the view. Fascinating.

“What are you still doing here?”

You blinked as he took a glance at you. All of your thoughts moving away for a second. Your smile turning into an awkward one as you thought he caught you looking too intensely at him.

“N-Nothing.” You tried to laugh, fixing your gaze into his gold orbs. “I just…really wanted to stay for a while. I mean, the scenery here is breathe taking like really breathe taking.”

He blinked slightly, confusion filling his eyes as he continued to look at you. You’re being weird in his eyes; your actions are too baffling for him. “You should go somewhere. Liyue has more places to offer with breath taking views. Don’t come near me as it might bring you in danger.”

Your head tilted in confusion, looking at him with a blank stare. “I don’t get it.”

“What?”

“I mean, you told me to call you whenever there’s danger and yet you threat yourself as a danger too. Aren’t you the protector of this city, Liyue?”

He scoffed. “You know there’s different kind of protectors, right?”

“Oh, so you mean like a vigilant or something. You’re like that?” you questioned; your voice fills with curiosity.

“Yes. Now, stay away-”

“But still, you’re just doing your duty right?” You cut him off unexpectedly. “Regardless of how evil or dangerous your actions are in your eyes, at the end of the day, it’s for the safety of the people here.”

He looked away, “You don’t get it, it’s much more complicated than that.”

You smiled, sitting down as you grab your sketching materials from your bag. “Can you explain it to me then?”

He sighed, “It’s something hard to-”

He stopped as soon as he saw you sitting down, a brush and a piece of paper in front of you as you were surrounded by brushes. At first, he was confused at what you were doing then it hits him.

“Are you secretly just keeping me distracted by talking to me?”

You hummed, glancing at him. “Not really, I’m curious too but I won’t pass any opportunity to sketch something…remarkable.”

“You’re wasting your time. Like what I said, there’s a whole lot of places than-”

“Say, can I…interest you into something?”

He looked at you in confusion. His eyes eyeing your brushes and other materials on the floor. You’re cutting his words, usually it was him that always cut someone off. It’s amusing, he thought but you’re being bizarre on your actions as time goes by. It’s not unusual for him to find a really determined and hard-headed mortals and you give off the same aura, except that you’re not begging him to give you wealth or something.

“Hello?” He snapped to reality as he heard your voice. You smiled as his eyes meet yours. “Are you okay?”

He closed his eyes; you should be no exception still. A mere mortal like you can’t get close too much to him or you’ll suffer, sooner and later.

“Get all of your stuff and leave.”

You lean back to the railings of the terrace, a sad smile forming your lips as you sighed. “Don’t I really stand a chance?”

“I told you, no.”

“Even if you’re the subject?”

His eyebrows knitted. “What? Do you really think that would make a difference?”

You chuckled. “Look, I’m trying. I’m not a good persuader like the traveler.”

He sighed, “You’re hopeless.”

A laughter escaped your lips on his remark. He looked at you as you laugh. He was never one for jokes, that meant to be an insult, he thought. Why are you laughing so light-heartedly? He wanted to ask you but you seem like you’re really having your time laughing and for some reason, he don’t want to disturb you. It’s the first time someone laughed at his comment with no any sign of malicious intent or hurt.

“Alright, I’m fine.” You fix yourself, fixing your throat for a second to stop yourself from laughing. “But seriously, don’t you wanted to see yourself in-”

“I’m not interested. A common behaviour of mortals like you was to always look for something priceable. I assumed you’re just going to sell it in high price anyway.”

You gasped in exaggeration, clutching your heart in a jokingly manner as you look at him. “That’s a very harmful stereotype to the people out there!”

“It was a normal act for mortals,” he deadpanned.

You hummed, “I mean, you’re not entirely wrong…”

“Because it’s what they are.”

You looked at the sky, thinking about what he said. “Say, do you have some deep grudge against these mortals?”

“Don’t call them like you’re not a part of them,” he stated.

You pouted. “I’m just asking.”

“Stop asking then.”

A sigh escaped your lips. “I don’t really sell some of my works, I only sell paintings or sketches of sceneries. It’s different when it’s personal.”

“Personal?”

“Something that really caught my eye, you know. Like what they said, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Whenever I see those moments, I keep them or sometimes I gave them to the people I shared the memories with. So…”

You looked at him, a warm smile on your lips. “I’ll give it to you once I’m done.”

He turned to you with a puzzled look, “What benefit is there for you then?”

“Connection with different people.”

“You should get close too much-”

“I know. Just let me sketch you and the scenery, then we’re finished,” you stated.

“Will you keep-”

“It’s a deal. I will keep those words.”

He looked at you intently as he tried to decipher your mind but no matter how he tried to looked at you, his curiosity just eats him more. You’re a weird one, he wanted to tell you but instead he kept it in his mind. He has a feeling you’ll just laugh again anyways.

He looked away. “Fine, just do it quickly.”

You cheered before picking up your brush again. “If I do it quickly, I won’t caught it perfectly.”

“You’re the one who wanted this,” he stated.

You pursed your lips. “It’s not my fault if I found my subject earlier than I anticipated.”

He glanced at you for a second before returning his gaze to the scenery ahead of him. He took note of the orange hue of the sky and the cold breeze of the wind. He closed his eyes as a thought entered his mind.

Maybe he can let this one slide.

[thestrangeprophet-blog]

The Muse and the Soldier

The Muse and the Soldier

·       f/reader x Levi Ackerman  

·       No NSFW

·       HC storyline

·       I do not own the rights to any of the characters

·       PLS support the actual Attack on Titan anime

 You open your eyes and take pleasure in the feel of the morning breeze coming from the window. Breathing in the air which carried the aroma of those special blue flowers potted downstairs in front of your tea shop. Seems you have left all your pencils across the desk and the drawings plastered to the walls from the night before had fallen again. You pick up the drawings and admire the one yet to be finished. It is of a regular customer you normally see when they come back from a scouting mission. Piercing grey eyes in contrast to his fancy dark undercut. Levi Ackerman. You always wonder how he has the time and will to keep up with his hair. After laying his portrait neatly on your desk, you ready yourself for another day brewing the finest tea you can in hopes of seeing Levi for another bout of his favorite tea.

The Captain and Commander Erwin were frequent visitors to your tea shop because Levi had always recommended it. For one reason or another, the tea you brewed satisfied him beyond what he would brew himself with what he had. Erwin had thought the same as well and it brought you enjoy your tea could be held to such standards. As a fellow tea lover, the subject of tea was never a boring conversation with Levi, no matter how short or blunt it was with him. Sure, most people see it as something more along the lines of hot leaf juice. It’s more than that and Levi understood it though it went unspoken.

Captain Levi came alone today and took his usual seat. It was rather unusual but you carry on and bring his favorite. The teapot whistles and steams like Titan smoke with the lingering scent of black tea that trails through the wind. As you set his cup in front of him and pour his tea, you notice he seems lost further in thought than normal. You finish pouring his tea and hesitantly ask if there is anything else you can do for him. He takes a second to come back to this moment and raises his head ever so slightly. His hair still covering those captivating grey eyes. Releasing an exhausted breath, he asks of one thing of you.

Levi: I- If it’s no trouble to you… will you sit with me Y/N? Even just for a moment?

Y/N: That’s a bit of an odd request, Captain. I’m surprised you even remembered my name. But sure! Anything for my best customer.

Levi: You don’t have to address me as Captain. J-just Levi will do… and thank you.

You sit in the chair across from Levi where Erwin is normally seated discussing the next expedition and plans you have for Eren and the cadets of the 104th Cadet Corps. As of in this moment, this is simply two human beings sitting together enjoying tea. Just sounds of the breeze against your ears and the softened sips coming from across the table at the lips of the man before you. Levi’s cheeks are flushed with a gorgeous rosy blush. It seems he wants to start a conversation but has no idea where to start. Its adorable how a man with a reputation for being such stone cold badass could be flustered over tea. You strike a smile in his direction and find your own way to start a conversation he could initiate. Call it encouragement if you will. The sketchpad and pencil you keep handy finally get put to use. The pencil scratching against the paper caught Levi’s attention though he kept to his tea. He watched as he appeared on the paper before him in awe.

           Levi: Hey Y/N, is that supposed to be me?

Y/N: Oh, uh yeah haha! I figured you weren’t much in the mood to talk so I didn’t want to bother you while you were enjoying your tea.

Levi: You are a woman of many talents I see.

Y/N: I wouldn’t say that much.

Levi: N-nonsense. I come here to enjoy the tea you brew perfectly and the singing you think I can’t hear. Didn’t know you were so skilled with a pencil as well.

Y/N: I usually never have the time to draw during the day Levi.

Levi: Can I request something? I’ll pay for it.

Y/N: No need to pay me. What can I do for you?

Levi: I need you to draw someone for me. I don’t really know them too well, but they have a face I could never forget.

Y/N: Oh I wonder who this special person is! Could you describe them for me?

Levi: Well, they’re around the same height as me maybe a bit taller. They have long black curly hair that glistened as though it was a fire at sunset. Brown eyes like fresh honey in the morning and glistened with a hopeful shine I envy. They wear some rather dark clothing year round even when its hot outside. Their nose is slightly hooked and cheeks soft and red. Their lips glistened and they look soft to the touch. And even though they don’t think it looks very nice, they have a scar across their left eyebrow. I’m not exactly sure how they got, but they always try to cover it behind their hair yet it still finds a way to see the light. Their jawline is soft and looks like it could rest perfectly in the cups of your hands.

Y/N: Wow Levi, I didn’t realize you had a way with words.

As the form you forge is refined from guidelines to distinctive features, the person he is describing truly is a sight to behold. You may not have the colors to use but you understand the value of what those colors are which are just as powerful. Levi sits across from you amazed at your skill for a second time until you’ve finished your work. You hand him the final sketch and you already know he just asked you to draw yourself but play it off. He takes the drawing into his hand and holds it up so you and the drawing are in view with each other.

Levi: As beautiful on paper as you are in person. Tsk, your hands are even a work of art on their own.

Y/N: If I may say I’m rather flattered you’d ask me to draw myself just for you but you aren’t very good at making your flirtations subtle. Unless you weren’t trying to be subtle in the first place.

Levi: Oi its not my fault you decided to pull a journal out of nowhere while we’re drinking tea together!

Y/N: You are one hundred percent correct Levi. Really for a man who exudes such confidence, I’ve never seen you even stutter let alone get flustered over tea. Its cute.

Levi blushes even more and looks away trying to play it off. He already knows you’ve got at least one finger wrapped around him. No one really talks to him like that besides this Hange person he mentions. They sound like an interesting character from the way he describes them. You would love to meet them one day when they aren’t experimenting on Titans. For now, your gaze remains fixed on Levi’s profile as he tries to regain his composure. You would not have assumed he was even interested in such trivial things other than being a clean freak.

You are aware of Levi’s reputation but just getting to sit with him in such an intimate setting gives you a next level view of him. The clean undercut and soft flowing hair was just asking to have someone’s fingers run through it and embrace the feeling of each strand even if it meant making his hair just a little messy. Each group of strands followed the path of the wind as leaves blew from the vines. His jawline was as sharp as the blades he carried to cut down titans like butter. His hands, though they bore the weight his fallen comrades and the destined purpose to eliminate and survive, seemed delicate under the rough calluses of combat. But his eyes. Those damn grey eyes. They pierced right through me whenever you got the chance to see them yourself. All of the things they saw, and the feelings kept behind them like a locked door. There is so much pain rage behind those you wonder when the last time Levi got to see something outside the realm of horror outside and within the walls.

           Y/N: Levi?

           Levi: Yeah Y/N?

Y/N: When was the last time you’ve ever had a chance to relax and just lay low for awhile?

Levi: Can’t say. I don’t think I’ve given myself a damn break but I can’t afford to. I don’t exactly have anything else to do.

Y/N: Hmmm. Let’s change that. Make sure you make yourself available tomorrow at sundown. Come back to the shop and dress casual. I know somewhere we can go. I’ll even grab an extra book so you can out those hands to work other than killing Titans and jotting down whatever it is you do write for your paperwork.

Levi: B-but I c-can’t just abandon my po-

Y/N: Shush. In case you haven’t noticed you don’t have any missions scheduled for at least another week. Plus business around here is slow. We could both use a little time for ourselves. Even if its just a moment.

Levi: *blushing even more* uh- ok. I guess it wouldn’t hurt. You didn’t have to act like such a brat about it.

Y/N: If you weren’t Levi I would throw this lukewarm teapot of tea all over you

Levi: *Smiling ever so slightly* hmp I uh… I guess I could see you doing something like that. Okay, I’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up. I’m curious as to where this place is anyway.

Y/N: Alrighty then it’s a date! No ifs ands or buts. You got that Levi?

Levi: Loud and clear.

You’re leaning over the table to make sure Levi knows where he needs to be. You’re close enough to him you can smell the scent of the tea you made him mixed with just the scent of him. You’d kiss him right then and there if you really wanted to. Looks like he had the same idea but you pull away because you weren’t in that much of a rush. His lips were parted as they awaited your lips to meet his. It was thrilling seeing him even a little desperate for you but making him wait was even better. As much as Levi felt he couldn’t abandon his post, he couldn’t say no to you. He’d been working up the courage to talk to you for as long as he has been coming to your shop. Though he wasn’t the one to ask, Levi appreciated that you were the one to take the lead in making plans to accompany each other on a date. You’d been waiting for the opportunity to even be in this position. Now that it’s here, you make plans to make the date an enjoyable one that Levi would also like. Good first impressions are still pretty important. Especially if you want to make a good impression for Levi.

           Levi: Tsk, its almost sundown. Id better get back to the brats at HQ.

You grab his hands and ask him to wait just a little while longer.

Y/N:  Well if you’re going to be leaving, at least let me give you some extra tea and a meal to take back with you. It’s the least I can do for agreeing to going on a date with me on such short notice.

Levi: Tsk make it quick please.

Y/N: Don’t rush me. I’m being nice to you. I usually don’t just give out free tea and meals to anyone you know.

Levi: I’m sorry. Thank you. I- I uh really appreciate your generosity.

You hand Levi the tea and meal you made just for him. You touch hands for a moment and get goosebumps for the first time in a long time. You blush just enough that Levi notices as well and gives a small smirk. You exchange that smirk with one of your own.

           Levi: Thank you again Y/N. I guess I’ll see you soon.

           Y/N: You guess?

           Levi: I will see you soon.

Y/N: Much better. And by the way, you have a very charming smile. I wish I could see it more often. It suits you almost as much as that cold gaze you’ve always got equipped.

Levi: I never really gave it much thought what that looked like. I’ll pick you tomorrow. I promise.

Y/N: You’d better if you know what’s good for ya hahaha! I’ll see you tomorrow, Captain.

END

Comment if you’d like a Pt. 2!

[returntobeaconhills]

Moonrise - Chapter Two

Chapter Two - The Hungry Fox 

Walt puts out dishes heaped with eggs and bacon as everyone takes a seat for their post-run breakfast.

"What are your plans for the day?" Talia asks her children, but her eyes are specifically on Derek.

"I don't have class. Thought I'd draw for a while, out at the edge of the preserve." Derek clears his throat and picks at his bacon.

"That sounds like a nice day," Walt says. "You should stop back in for lunch and I'll make you a chicken pesto sandwich. How does that sound?"

Derek smiles. "Yeah, Dad. Thanks."

Cora checks the time. "I've got to head out. I'm supposed to open the coffee shop today."

Laura finishes up and stands. "I can give you a ride."

"Have a good day, girls," Talia says.

"Thanks for breakfast, Dad," Derek says as he finishes his own food.

"Of course. I'll see you at lunch." Walt starts to clear the dishes.

"I look forward to seeing your sketches later," Talia tells Derek with a smile, but her face is still lined with concern.

Derek leans and nuzzles lightly against her shoulder, head bowed.

Talia sighs, comforted by the touch. She pets over his hair. "You never tell me that I worry too much like your sisters do."

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Derek says with a small laugh. "Anytime we're not all together, it's like there's a hook in my chest, pulling me to wherever the others are."

Talia turns her face to look at him. "There is nothing wrong with you! You just feel a strong bond to the pack." She hugs him. "Would you like to stay home with me today?"

Derek shakes his head. "No, I'm okay." He pauses. "That's what makes it so strange, you know? I don't even remember making the decision to break from the pack and chase. I just did it."

Talia's lips go thin. "Do you think something else was controlling you?"

Derek tilts his head and considers. "I don't know. I don't think so, but...felt like instinct. Felt like when I was first learning to control the shift, and I'd turn without even realizing I'd done it."

Talia studies him for a long moment. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise," Derek murmurs. Talia squeezes Derek's hand. "So, tell me, what did this fox look like?"

"It was a little fennec fox. Sort of tan-colored. Great big ears. They're not native to California, but. Immigrants, I guess." Derek licks his lips. "And as a boy, I didn't see him very long, but he was tall and pale and... freckly."

"I see." Talia suppresses a smile. "Maybe you can draw the fox from memory while you're out today."

Derek's eyes light up. "You're right. That's a great idea."

Talia stands and kisses Derek's hair. "Take some snacks and water with you so you don't get hungry."

"Yes, ma'am." Derek gets to his feet, stretches, and waits for his mother's dismissal.

Talia nods. "You may go."

Derek bows his head and goes upstairs to shower and dress.

As soon as Derek steps outside, it feels as if he is being watched. Derek tightens the straps on his backpack, a nervous habit, and starts walking out to the edge of the preserve.

As Derek is making his way through the preserve, his eye catches something unusual. As he approaches, he realizes it's a pile of clothing: a discarded hoodie, a T-shirt, jeans, sneakers, socks, and boxers. He kneels down next to the pile, scenting the air.

Once he catches the scent, the fox comes into view. The fox tilts his head as he watches Derek.

"Hey," Derek says, surprised. "It's you."

The fox lets out a short bark.

Derek flashes his eyes blue. "You never saw me like this. Do you recognize me?"

The fox huffs and nods his head. Still on his knees, Derek holds out a hand, palm up.

The fox approaches slowly. After several long moments, he sniffs Derek's hand. The fox pushes his head against Derek's hand in order to be petted.

“Hey, little guy,” Derek says with a laugh, gently running his fingertips along the fox’s ears.

At the use of 'little guy,' the fox nips lightly at Derek's wrist.

“Ow. Oh--sorry. You’re not just--those are really nice ears,” Derek offers.

The fox preens and ducks his head to offer Derek his ears. Upon closer inspection, Derek can see a small dusting of freckles and moles along the cream-colored fur.

“Wow, you have freckles even in your shifted form.” Derek’s fingertips hover over the freckles, mapping them from a distance like stars. “That’s...I didn’t even know that could happen. That’s amazing.” He gives a self-conscious laugh, looking away as a blush creeps up his neck.

The fox jumps on Derek's arm and climbs up to perch on his shoulder. He noses at Derek's red cheek before moving over Derek's shoulder to paw at his backpack.

“I’ll show you what’s inside, but you gotta jump off first. I don’t want you to fall off when I set it down.”

The fox uses Derek's shoulder as a launch pad to jump from. He settles on the hoodie as he watches with large eyes.

“Okay.” Derek swings the bag off of his shoulder and unzips it, pulling out several bottles of water, a brown paper bag with a bit of a grease stain on the bottom, a box of pencils, and a sketchpad.

The fox immediately pounces on the bag. He tries to tug it with his small teeth, but the sight is mostly comical.

Derek’s brow furrows slightly, even as his lips pull up. “Hey, little g--uh, fox. Are you hungry?” His eyes widen. “D-did I keep you from doing your hunting last night?”

The fox scratches at the bag and looks up at Derek.

“Sorry, yeah, let me...” Derek pulls a plastic container out of the bag, a bit of oil fingerprinting the outside. He opens it to reveal an aromatic Greek-style pasta dish with a bit of cooked lamb tucked into the corner, placing the meal in front of the fox.

The fox dives in, his little paws slipping in the dirt as he moves to eat. The fox eats about half of the food before pulling back. He yawns and curls up on the clothes.

“I’ll leave the rest for you. After your nap.” Derek puts the lid back on the container and picks up his drawing materials.

One of the fox's eyes stays cracked open, curious as to what Derek will do next.

Derek opens one of the water bottles and sets it upright on the ground next to the food. “Thirsty?”

The fox gets up and moves toward the bottle. He uses a paw to knock the bottle over and starts to drink as the water spills out.

“That’s good.” Derek clears his throat as he opens his sketchbook. “We always have plenty of food. More than enough.”

The fox gets his fill of water before settling back on the clothes. He hides his face with a paw as he sleeps.

Only the sound of the pencil moving across paper accentuates the fox’s even breathing. Derek stays perfectly still except to draw.

His phone goes off with a text. The fox stirs and lifts his head to look at Derek with as much annoyance as the small face can muster.

Talia to Derek: Everything okay, sweetheart?

Derek turns his phone to silent.

Derek: Yes.

The fox stretches out and sleeps for another half hour. When he wakes, the fox jumps up on a tree stump to get a view of Derek's drawing.

Derek breaks his pencil in his clumsy rush to try to cover up an extremely detailed sketch of the sleeping fox.

The fox huffs and scowls as Derek moves to hide his work. He jumps down and moves into Derek's backpack. He pokes his head outside, but doesn't make any other movements to leave it.

“Get cold sometimes?” Derek asks, voice a little too high as he closes his sketchbook.

The fox moves its head from side to side to indicate he’s not in the bag because he’s cold.

"That's good." Derek reaches out to pet him.

The fox starts a soft purr under the attention. Derek chuckles, a low, pleased rumble. The fox moves out of the bag and starts jumping around in a circle. He flashes his eyes at Derek.

"What's this?" Derek smiles at the sight, but scents the air to make sure it isn't a warning.

Sensing nothing, Derek looks back to the fox, who noses at the hoodie, then jumps up again before tugging at Derek's pant leg.

"Should I follow you? Want to show me something?"

The fox gives up and sits back. He considers for a moment before he darts off as fast as he can.

A growl escapes Derek before he can help it. He tugs off his clothes and shifts with a groan, running full-speed in pursuit.

The fox swishes his tail, almost taunting. With a short, joyful howl, Derek leaps over him, landing in front of the little fox so that they're facing each other. The fox scents at Derek before rubbing its face against Derek's legs. Derek flips onto his back, paws up by his chest, giving the fox room to play on his belly. The fox jumps up on Derek's stomach and nips at Derek's jaw.

As the fox's nose moves over Derek's throat, he goes perfectly, unnaturally still. The fox sits back on Derek's belly, confused. Derek shivers, nearly dislodging the fox in the process. The fox jumps down and lowers its head. Derek gets back up, shaking his head, taking a moment to recover before licking the fox’s nose in reassurance. The fox nuzzles against Derek. The wolf mouths at the fox’s snout again. The fox pulls back and sneezes, his small head twitching. There’s no mistaking the smile that overtakes Derek’s face, letting his long, wolfish tongue loll to the side. He leans in and licks the top of the fox’s head. The fox playfully slaps at Derek's nose before sprinting off.

They spend hours this way--Derek chasing the fox, constantly tackling or pouncing or nuzzling, and the two of them taking breaks in between to roll around and play in the underbrush.

As it grows dark, Derek hears Talia's howl.

Derek stills, ears pricking up. He howls in return, eyes bright blue, before he makes eye contact with the fox to see if he understands.

The fox licks Derek's nose before running off.

A soft, saddened whine escapes Derek, but he only allows himself a moment before he obeys the call.

Talia is standing in human form at the edge of the yard when Derek returns. Her face is etched with worry. Walt stands at her side.

Derek sucks in a sharp breath. Once he’s within a few feet of them, he lifts his chin up, baring his throat.

Talia relaxes at Derek's appearance but her tone is stern as she says, "You didn't answer your phone."

“I was shifted,” Derek murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

Talia reaches out to cup Derek's cheek. "You're okay?"

“Yeah. I’m good.” Derek leans into the touch, flashing his eyes as a sign of respect.

Talia matches it with her own red eyes.

Walt slaps Derek's shoulder. "See, Tal, no reason to worry. He just lost track of time, right?"

Talia huffs but her lips pull up the smallest bit. "You were just as worried when he didn't come home for lunch."

“I’m sorry,” Derek says again, biting his lip. “Did you howl before you got really worried? I-I tried to get back fast once I heard it--”

"It's okay," Walt assures him.

Talia tilts her head. "Were you with the fox again?"

“Yes, ma’am,” Derek murmurs.

Talia sighs. "I worry about this shifter being a bad influence. Did you get his name?" Derek winces. “No, ma’am. He didn’t shift back this time. But he seems very…sweet.”

Talia pets over his hair. "Go ahead and get washed up for dinner. You must be hungry. Did you finish your pasta?"

“No, ma’am,” Derek says, barely audible.

Talia kisses Derek's temple. "It's okay. You don't have to be upset."

“He seemed hungry,” Derek says quietly.

Walt frowns. "Did he need food? You could have brought him home for dinner."

“I sort of tried to ask about it, but...when he heard the howl, he took off.” Derek shrugs. “Maybe he’s scared.”

"Maybe." Talia leads Derek inside.

After getting washed up, Derek helps Walt finish preparing the meal and sets the table.

Talia keeps casting concerned glances at Derek throughout the meal.

"So, you found him," Laura comments. "Did you ask him out?"

Derek’s face goes splotchy and pink.

"Leave your brother alone," Talia warns her.

"I think it's good you made a friend, Der," Cora says as she helps herself to a second serving of food.

“Yeah. Kinda different for me,” Derek says, genuine. He pushes his food around on his plate.

Walt's brow furrows. "Is there something wrong with the food?"

“No, no.” Derek takes a bite, looking back up at Walt as he swallows it down.

Walt squeezes his shoulder. "I think there will be leftovers if you want to take some for your friend."

"Walt," Talia says. "It's getting late."

“Yes, ma’am. It can wait.”

After dinner, Laura pulls Derek aside into her room. "I can tell you how to sneak out if you want."

“They were pretty worried about me,” Derek says, putting his hands in his pockets.

"But this is so romantic. You need to at least get his name!"

Derek smiles a little despite himself. "You really think I should?"

"Yes!" Laura shakes his shoulders gently. "You almost never make connections with people."

Derek's smile falters.

Laura bites her own lip. "Sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like a bad thing. It's really not! I just think if you're happy with him, you should pursue that."

"But what if it's..." Derek swallows, looking down at his shoes. "He didn't want to shift back with me there. He only did it the first time 'cause he was scared of me, didn't know what I was gonna do, at first. What if that's all it is, a fox and a wolf in the woods?"

Laura wraps her arms around him. "Did you ask him to change back? Maybe try talking to him instead of just playing."

"Maybe," Derek murmurs.

Laura pulls back. "If you don't want to, I won't push you into it. I just want you to be happy."

Derek nods. "I know."

Laura points to her window. "Go out my window if you want to try. Your room is too close to Mom and Dad's. If their window is open, they might hear you drop down."

Derek huffs a laugh. "Got it."

Laura winks at him. "I'm going to go watch a movie with Cora."

"'Night." Derek goes to his bedroom.

Talia and Walt both check in before they head to bed.

Derek sits cross-legged on his bed, going over sketches in pen.

Around midnight comes a soft tapping on his window.

Goosebumps rise on Derek’s skin. He drops his sketchbook and leans over to open the window, listening for any sign of his parents rousing as the wind moves through his room, sweeping up his papers.

The same young man from the woods tumbles through Derek's window, this time fully dressed in the rumpled clothes from the woods.

“Fox,” Derek blurts out, because he doesn’t know him by any other name.

The boy raises an eyebrow. "Stiles." “ Stiles,” Derek breathes out, slowly, testing the sound of it.

Stiles nods. "I waited. You didn't come back."

“I couldn’t come back.” Derek’s brow furrows in confusion. “My alpha called me.”

"Oh." Stiles shrugs, as if he doesn't quite know the weight of this. "Do you want to play now?"

“Um.” Derek shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, are you hungry? I’m a little hungry.”

"I could eat," Stiles admits. "What do you have?"

“Lots of stuff. My dad’s a chef, so we always have plenty.” Derek points to the door. “Want to?”

Stiles hesitates. "What about the others. Four others, right? I caught five scents total."

“That’s my dad, my mom--she’s the alpha--my older sister and my younger sister. But nobody’ll mind,” Derek rushes to add. “Promise.”

Stiles squirms. "They're all wolves?"

Derek’s eyes tighten, a small, nearly unnoticeable flinch, as if Stiles had pulled back to throw a punch. “They’re my family,” he murmurs.

"Okay." Stiles nods. "If you think they won't mind. Most wolves, they don't like foxes, it seems."

“Most people don’t like wolves,” Derek says simply.

Stiles scuffs his shoe along the floor. "They make you leave," he says in a small voice.

“You don’t have...?”

"I have someone," Stiles rushes out. "I have my dad."

“Oh.” Derek relaxes a little. “Is he hungry, too?” His eyes go wide, blood rushing to his face. “I-I mean...would he want to join us, or, or--is he a fox? Not that it matters if he’s--um.”

"He's not," Stiles says. He inches back towards the window. "He's human. And he's fine. I'm fine."

“Okay.” Derek clasps his hands in front of him to keep from trying to cover his blushing face. “Sorry.”

"I should go," Stiles says. He casts a glance at Derek's sketchbook. "You were busy."

Derek bites his lip and drops into a sitting position on his bed. “Okay,” he murmurs.

Stiles hesitates at the window.

“Sorry,” Derek says again, numbly picking up his sketchbook just to have something to do with his hands. He doesn’t actually open it, just turns it over on his lap, ducking his head so that Stiles can’t see his face.

The sound of a sneaker being kicked off draws Derek's attention as Stiles starts to undress. “What are you doing?” Derek squeaks out.

Stiles shifts. Once he's a fox, he jumps up onto Derek's bed.

“O-okay.” Derek lifts his hand, letting it hover over the fox’s head.

The fox pushes against Derek's hand. Derek’s muscles relax a little as he pets over the fox’s soft fur. The fox paws at Derek's legs like a cat settling in.

With a chuckle, Derek focuses on the fox, scratching behind his ears, rubbing his belly, running a thumb over the fine little hairs above his eyes. The fox's eyes grow heavy until he finally nods off, curled up against Derek.

Though he doesn’t remember the moment it happens, Derek falls asleep easily, slumping down to the bed like a puppet with cut strings.

When Derek stirs the next morning, he wakes to a very human, very naked Stiles sleeping against him.

Derek slaps his hand over his own mouth to keep from yelling. Hands shaking, he grabs an extra blanket from the foot of the bed and drapes it delicately over Stiles’s body.

Stiles nuzzles against the pillow.

There's a knock at the door.

Derek catches himself at just the last moment from clapping his hands over Stiles’s ears to keep the noise from rousing him. He swallows thickly, blushing to the tips of his ears.

"Derek, Dad wants you to know breakfast is almost ready!" Cora calls through the door.

“I have a guest,” Derek says, voice comically high-pitched.

The door cracks open enough for Cora to stick her head in. "What?"

Derek looks up at her, expression pleading.

Cora's eyes go wide. "Oh, my God," she mouths. She gestures for Derek to come out into the hallway.

Scowling, Derek gestures to Stiles, still sleeping soundly half-on top of him.

Cora rolls her eyes and closes the door. A moment later Derek's phone vibrates with a text.

He’s careful not to jostle Stiles as he checks it.

Cora to Derek: Omg!!!! Who is it??? I can't see his face! I never thought you had it in you! Scandalous. Derek: WE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING. He’s the one I told you guys about. He came in last night and shifted. I was going to get us some food, but he fell asleep, and then I fell asleep, and THAT’S IT. Cora: likely story. 👉👌👬❤️❤️❤️ Derek: 😡 Cora: How am I supposed to cover for you? I can't exactly lie to them. Derek: Tell them the truth. Just leave out the naked part! Please Cora: Okay. I'm going to eat all your pancakes. Derek: Save enough for Stiles Cora: Stiles?? That's who it is??? You know who he is, right? Derek: ...no? Cora: That's the sheriff's son you're in bed with. Naked. Derek: Oh my God. Is he Derek: ! Derek: Please say I'm not committing a crime right now Cora: No crime. He's 18. It's legal.

A pause this time.

Derek: You gave me a heart attack, Cor Cora: Sorry! I just thought you should know.

Stiles snuffles against Derek. "Your pulse started racing. Calm down," he mumbles, still partially asleep.

"Okay," Derek whispers, adjusting the blanket so that it covers more of Stiles's body.

Stiles nudges his face to hide under Derek's arm as he falls back asleep.

Derek stays perfectly still for fear of waking him. His phone goes off with another text.

Talia to Derek: I would like to meet your guest before he leaves. Derek: Yes ma'am

After twenty minutes, Derek starts to hear another vibrating phone and realizes it belongs to Stiles, still tucked away in his pants pocket on the floor.

Derek chews his lip before gently shaking Stiles's shoulder.

Stiles jerks awake. "Wha?"

"Your phone," Derek whispers.

Stiles rubs at his eyes. He falls out of bed and crawls over to grab his phone. He types out a text before standing up and stretching, still nude.

Derek averts his eyes, cheeks blazing red.

"Oh." Stiles looks down. "Sorry. Must have shifted in my sleep." He pulls on his clothes.

"There's breakfast," Derek says in a small voice.

"Cool." Stiles runs a hand through his hair. "You okay?"

Derek gives a jerky nod. "Just--didn't want to, um..."

Stiles looks down. "You've already seen me naked," he says, confused.

"Th-that's not an open invitation. I didn't want to, you know--take advantage. You shifted in your sleep this time. It was an accident, so."

Stiles shrugs. "I'm not embarrassed."

"Okay. Yeah, sorry, I didn't--of course." Derek gets to his feet. "There's pancakes downstairs." He heads to the door.

"Awesome." Stiles follows Derek out.

Derek leads the way down to the dining room.

The family is all sitting at the table still. Cora smirks at Stiles. Laura gives Derek a thumbs up.

Derek clears his throat. "This is Stiles. Stiles, this is my mother and alpha, Talia. My father, Walt. And my sisters, Laura and Cora."

"Hi." Stiles gives a small wave as he sits down.

Talia purses her lips.

Derek takes his own seat, watching his mother nervously.

"When did your friend arrive?" Talia asks Derek.

"Last night. He wanted to go out to the woods again, but we ended up just falling asleep," Derek says. "Just falling asleep."

"I see." Talia clears her throat. "We prefer Derek to only go out shifted at night with the pack, Stiles."

Stiles fidgets in his chair. "Oh."

"I'll get you some food," Derek rushes out, jumping up to go into the kitchen.

Stiles gets up to follow him. "Maybe I should go," he says when he gets into the kitchen. "I don't need breakfast."

Derek stills, eyes on his shoes. "They're protective. The way people are about wolves...there’s so much fear and hatred. We're strong, but that doesn't mean we aren't vulnerable without our pack there to protect us."

Stiles rocks on his heels. "I don't really know anything about packs."

"It's a connection," Derek says softly, hand coming up to rest on his own chest without realizing it. "It's always there. It pulls at you, like the moon pulls the water. That's where we got it from." He lets out a self-conscious laugh. "That's what my grandmother says, anyway."

Stiles gives him a small smile. "That's cute."

Derek leans back against the counter, loosening up the more Stiles does.

Stiles eyes a stack of pancakes.

Laura enters. "Mom wanted to see if you needed additional help," she says with a pointed look.

Derek shakes his head roughly. “Got it.” He stacks pancakes on a plate and hands it to Stiles.

"Thanks." Stiles pours a lake of syrup on the pancakes before he carries the plate back out to the table.

“You guys are freaking him out!” Derek whispers to Laura, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Sorry!" Laura whispers back. "It's weird! Cora came down and said you had a guy in your bed."

“Nothing happened! Nothing at all. Sleeping happened, actual sleeping.”

Laura laughs. "You're so innocent!" She gestures back to the dining room. "We should get back out there before Mom interrogates him."

Derek’s eyes go huge. He nods vigorously and goes back into the dining room empty-handed.

Walt frowns. "Aren't you going to eat?"

“I’m good,” Derek says.

“So, Stiles--tell us about coming in through Derek’s bedroom window last night,” Talia says, pouring honey over her pancakes.

Stiles takes a huge bite of pancake. Talking through the barely chewed food, he says, "I thought he might want to go for a run, and I didn't want to bother anyone else," he says easily.

“We’re pleased to meet you, but there are rules in this house, and I expect them to be followed, even by guests.”

Stiles swallows and puts down his fork. "Like what?"

“You will receive my permission before spending time with Derek after dark or in his bedroom,” Talia says sharply.

Stiles's jaw clenches. He nods. "Got it." He pushes his plate over to Derek. "Have mine. I need to get home. My dad is wondering where I am." He stands. "Thanks for having me," he tells the others.

Derek looks gutted.

Stiles hurries out the door with his hands shoved in his pockets.

Talia sighs. "It wasn't an unreasonable request."

"I know," Derek says quietly, sliding Stiles's plate to the middle of the table. "I'm still tired. May I go back to bed for a little while?"

Talia reaches out a hand for Derek. "Sweetheart, of course I want you to be happy. You know that. I'd like for you to find a nice person that is good for you."

"I know." Derek ducks down under her hand so that it rests lightly on the top of his head.

Talia strokes over Derek's hair. "You may go back to sleep if you wish. Do you have class today?"

“Yes, ma’am,” Derek says. “This afternoon.”

Talia smiles at him. "Good. That will take your mind off everything. Go ahead and rest some more, then you can eat something before you go." “ Yes, ma’am.” Derek flashes his eyes and bows his head before going upstairs.

When Derek reaches his bed, he sees a note scrawled out hastily on a blank sheet of his sketchbook.

It reads: Meet me at 2pm where you first caught me. - S

[datenoriko]

Wondering if I could request some reactionary Headcanons for the warlords where MC is a highly trained and skillful forensic scientist?

I’m so sorry this is waaaay overdue and writing-wise is still unsure of the style... I hope this one’s okay though~ TnT

p.s. I tried adding Kennyo & Motonari too, but brain won’t let me ><

p.s.s. Updated masterlist for my random shenanigans here!

*Every one of them thought MC would be scared of a dead body and multitudes of it on the battlefield and beyond it but...

ODA FORCES

Nobunaga

- “Huh, this fireball’s not afraid of the dead?” // “I examine them for a living.” Visibly impressed, a devilish smirk forms on his lips

- The Devil King is fascinated by you actively asking to take her to battles to study the bodies

- “Look at this! With that deep slice on his jugular vein, no wonder he’ll die pretty quickly due to all that blood loss.” // “On his what?” // “T-the blood vessel found on the neck, my lord.” // *is confused*

- Nobunaga considers this carefully and commissions the armour makers to improve their designs, and/or trade for more sturdy materials with the Portuguese (you know… aside trading for konpeito :3)

- Lets you examine more specimens to determine all possible deaths in battle, and then have it discussed at the next council. It’s a great help for them in terms of preparation & strategizing. After all, prevention and preparation is still much better!

Hideyoshi

- A worried mother hen as always, all he wanted is for you to stay away from the worst sights possible and definitely not going straight towards them! “What do I keep telling you?” // “Uh, stay away from the corpses…?”

- Just like how his lord would sneak away to have konpeito, you also tend to get around stealthily just to study “them”

- Being a highly observation person due to your work, you even know which wooden floor in Azuchi will make a creaking sound and by instinct you will avoid it

- But Mamayoshi is just as observant as you are, and he caught you one night

- “I know you were once this ‘forensic expert’ from where you came from, but you are a princess now and must behave like one!” Legend has it that the lecture continues...  

Mitsuhide

- Ah, he loves asking for your suggestions on how to get away with murder treason!

- I mean, he’s surely an expert but an additional piece of advice his little mouse wouldn’t hurt, right?

- “This place’s almost clean, I’d say.” // “’Almost’, little mouse? It scares me so that you have trained eyes for such matters. // “Is that a compliment? Anyway, I saw a strand of hair near the sliding door... and its color is much similar to yours. Care to explain?”

- Now he’s more careful than ever to leave any trace, knowing you can find him even with the smallest of clues

- The tables have turned for him after such a long time of being a sneaky fox

Masamune

- Oh boy, make sure you won’t overwork yourself by being with this man, being a battle-loving man that he is (meaning, more bodies and scenes to check out)

- At the same time, he finds it amusing that you proactively ask him to take you to his trips, campaigns and whatnots

- “It really is fun having you around, lass! Or should I say ‘partner’?” // “Damn straight, partner… now, let’s solve this case!” Cat-like grin commences for you two

- He sees you having fun hanging out at the scouts’ camp, chatting about experiences in the battlefield. your eyes would glimmer the more explicit they describe it. Creepy? Maybe a little, but at least he sees you happy about it… right?

- The One-Eyed Dragon will find this unusual, sure, but it certainly makes him want to know you more

Ieyasu

- Did he care at first? No, not really. He just wanted no involvement at first and to be left on his room alone, reading or eating extra-spicy food

- However, Yatsun gets curious when he finds you taking a peek at his medicinal work on a man he is a bit late to save :(

- “What are you doing here? You better not get in the way.” // “Oh no, poor man though… what’s the cause?” // “I am yet to find that out, if you’ll excuse me,---” // “Can I take a look?”

- He tries to pry you away from the room but being already in and touching the body leaves him no choice but to keep a close eye on you, making sure you’re not doing anything daft.

- “Huh, not bad.” Ieyasu says as you were able to identify the cause of death, deep inside he’s amazed of course. Later on he would let you join him in his post-mortem activities if the schedule allows to, but still keeping an eye on you to prevent any mishaps from happening

Mitsunari

- “Wow, MC-sama is unfazed as we all are in the battlefield! You truly are an amazing woman.” Did you see that sunny smile on his face as he says it???

- Your logical explanation as to identifying one’s death baffles the force’s cinnamon roll (because of the jargon used), otherwise it fascinates him

- Well, he’s never seen a woman who’s into dead bodies work-wise!

- Like some other warlords, he would ask you for advice when making strategies for the next battle

- When you went to his room one time to borrow a book, the first thing you said was “Am I in a crime scene?” when seeing piles of books around, untouched food and seeing a man unmoved in the middle of the room, reading and not even sensing your presence. “Ah no, just a normal room. I see.”

Ranmaru

- While in an errand, he sees you one day looking at a dead body about to be taken away. He is worried that the view might traumatize you for life… in the back of his mind he already has a plan to take you to a sweets shop and let you gorge in manjuu for the rest of the day

- “MC-sama, are you alright? You look shocked.” // “Yeah, I mean it looks to me that someone killed him when everybody says the opposite! I wanted to look into this so badly…” // “My apologies, but… what?”

- Of course it is never the answer he expected, but when you plead to help him solve it, this page is more than willing to do so

- Now both of you are going around the town looking for clues and asking who you think are involved; partners-in-crime!

- You did get to gorge on manjuu (and tea, lots of it) with Ranmaru when the case is solved!

UESUGI-TAKEDA FORCES

Kenshin

- Oh boy, make sure you won’t overwork yourself by being with this man, being a battle-loving man that he is pt.2

- “How dare you try to even speak with MC; draw your swords. Now.” // “Kenshin-sama, even if I’m used to seeing the deceased, please don’t do that. You’re scaring your own men!”

- He has little to no problem in taking her along to the battlefield, too! One more way to keep her in sight at all times

- Sometimes when you two are drinking and think he had too much you just had to stop him, to his slight annoyance. You have seen many deaths due to alcohol poisoning and definitely wouldn’t want him to be in the list… Bunshin Lord Kenshin appreciates the thought though

- Like Nobunaga, he allows you to do some research on the dead bodies, anything useful for the ongoing war

Shingen

- How can an angel such as you be associated with death and decay? He thinks

- But this daddy needs to accept the fact that you are quite comfortable around such! However once your investigation takes a scary turn expect him to nearby, comforting you with soothing words, or a hug… or eating sweet buns as many as you’d like to calm yourself down

- At first he is reluctant to let you get near the deceased, however whenever he sees your expression light up whenever he makes a cheesy comment (albeit in a rather awkward place) he thought of going along with it

- “Hm, this job of yours is unfitting in every way.” // “Oh yeah? How so?” // “You are brimming with life that I do think you are a goddess who descended upon us men.” // “Ah, here we go again…”

- You have to admit, his presence help you keep your sanity as you used to work alone for long periods of time

Yukimura

- “I thought you might be running away now once you see these.” // “As if they’ll chase me! Unless… are they still alive?” // “Weird woman…”

- This tsun does admire how brave you are after even making such joke

- Along with Sasuke, you three are pretty much effective when doing some investigation at the enemy’s base with you giving them (modern) tips of not getting caught. Unusual hiding spots? Hidden weapons? Suspicious people? All checked and cleared! 

- He has been doing that for a long while now, but hearing your strange ideas do sound plausible… especially when ninja friend is highly approving it

- If Sasuke trusts you, he surely starts to trust you (and your skills) too

Sasuke

- Once again, be paired up with Yuki and you three would make a great investigation/espionage team

- When investigating, you and memelord ninja are speaking to each other in partly jargon, partly heavily-memed language

- Possibly having watched and/or read crimes shows or movie you two are getting along so well

- “So here’s our undercover story: husband, wife and husband’s best friend---” // “Wait, do we get cool names too?!” // “Yeah, I’ll get to that part later… or I’ll do it now. Miyako, Tsune and Chozaburo; sounds cool?” // “Noice.”

- As the conversation continues, Yuki is left by himself to wonder how on earth did he get friends like you, shaking his head lightly as your talk no longer makes sense to him

Yoshimoto

- This beautiful mailman sees you one day sketching and as a man of the arts he comes over to look at what you’re drawing

- What he sees is a detailed sketch of a man, possibly a random person. The facial structure, features are all spot on! He is in full admiration mode

- “My, such a lovely piece you are making there. Has someone commissioned you to make him a portrait?” // “Actually Yoshimoto-san, I am making this to be posted around town. A wanted poster of some sorts… he’s a criminal.”

- You explained to him your job as a forensic artist, and he listens to every single word of it. Yoshimoto would find himself asking about your style of sketching as you continue drawing

- When the posters are up he is one of those people who would look at it for a long time; for him it’s not for memorizing the perp’s face, but simply to appreciate the art, fanning himself ever so gracefully

[mma3youf]

FA222 ,principles of graphic design:

Instructor: mr.munwar mukhtar

@uob-funoon @mnwrzmn

Project 1 : interviews

What is your given name, and user name on ZBrush Central?

My name is Khalid Abdulla Al-Muharraqi, my ZBrush Central user name is "Khalid72".

Tell us about your company, how did you start?

I set up Muharraqi-Studios to continue my family's history in the creative world and I am trying to continue to build on what my father started. The company was set up about two years ago after I left the commercial world of advertising with my partner Rashad who decided to leave a career in banking. We wanted to get together to make a place that allows us to be more creative. Since then we have been fortunate enough to work on some of the biggest projects in the middle east, and also continue working on our ideas and concepts, like our movie project. The most important thing for me is the work I do and that's what we are all about.

What is the size of your company?

The company is me and my partner, oh and our secretary... Keesha, a German Shepard! I am a hand's on guy and I do all the creative work myself. At first, I thought it was normal to carry that load because of the speed I work in, but later found out that I am actually very fast compared with bigger teams of artists in other studios. Finally I understood what people were telling me when they said I was 'unusual'. That’s why some of the CG magazines in Europe were amazed that a lot of our work is done by a one man team that puts all the 3D components together into a visualization. I work about 13 to 18 hours a day, I love 3D work, so my hobby and my work has joined into one, so … yes, very little time for a normal life.

What type of projects do you work on?

Well, I have been working on Architectural Visualizations since we started a couple of years ago, but I try to satisfy my urge to do what I really like, art!

You're located in Bahrain, somewhere most of us don't know about. Can you tell us how you learned your trade?

I love this question, Yes Bahrain is a small Island in the Persian gulf, we speak Arabic as our main language and English for the second, I will answer the second part in two parts, If you mean The art... I would say that I come from an artistic family, my father is one of the most well known artists in this part of the world, you can say that he is a household name in these parts. If you are asking were did I learn the 3D or CG art, I would say that I learned it by practicing for 8 hours a day after my official day of work, so I guess you can say I have been my own teacher in the industry.

Tell us a bit about your client base, mostly local, or do you have clients in Europe, Asia, America?

We serve clients from the Middle East, Europe and the Americas, I would say that I have been fortunate enough to have worked with some of the top people in the architectural industry, most of our clients are attracted to the type of work that we produce.

ow long have you been an artist?

Since I was six...I think! Well, the first painting I have sold when I was eleven. I was always painting and trying to find new techniques that will help create the concept in my mind.

Tell us about your background, your education, your mentors...

I studied art in Houston Texas for over seven years between interior decoration, photography, Visual communication, and digital enhancement or photo retouching, from there I have continued my working career in the commercial world. My first mentor would have to be my father, learned everything I know from him. He gave me the push start into the art world and made me feel it. There are also the books and artwork he has exposed me too with some of the top art in the world. A lot of names come to mind but I would say Frank Farazeta, Boris, The Creepy magazine and of course all the original Mad magazines and books that were very hot in the early 80's.

When you became an artist, did you first use traditional media?

For sure, I started with Pencil then got into crosshatching with ink, then I started painting with water colors and gouaches. I finally got into air brush art before I tried CG art.

What was your first CG package? What is your first 3D Package?

Nice question... first CG software was PSD, version 2, it was like magic... It felt strange especially that I was a traditional artist at the time. My first 3D package would be Alias Sketch for the Mac since I was a Mac user for a long time and did not have much 3D developers for Mac at the time. It was a new world for me and I think I still have a dusty copy of it today even after the software was canceled back in the early 90's, it just reminds me of my past.

How long have you been using ZBrush?

It has only been about six months, but I was up and running almost a few hours after I purchased it.

What made you try ZBrush?

I was watching some of the tutorial videos on how to paint details on the Gnomon training DVD's, and that's when I was shocked to see that it is art on the computer! I did not believe it at first, but It was one of the happiest moments when I first installed my first copy of ZBrush and started painting geometry for the first time, it reminded me with the days when I was pushing and pulling real clay to make a small creature of my imagination when I was a kid.

What's your favorite ZBrush feature?

The ability to paint geometry like it is physically in my hands.

How has ZBrush enabled you to express yourself in ways other packages couldn't?

Well you cant really compare it with any other software, it's simply too different! It changes how a CG artist works, it changes how he looks at things, has changed the industry to the next future leap, and who would want to go back to the past....? I would simply say that the concept of the software is very smart and impressive, my only wish to add on it is to have a bigger view port :)

Now onto "Floating Islands"Tell us about your creative process, how did this concept emerge?

One evening when I was stuck in the studio waiting for clients approval on a project that I was preparing for the kingdom of Bahrain, I was trying to get free again and relax my mind from all boundaries, I started to sketch a concept that has bean in my mind since I was a kid, the island that was then discovered to be on the back of a whale, these were some of the old middle eastern stories about Sinbad's magical voyages.

Do ideas just come to you out of nowhere, or are there particular artists or work you are inspired by?

I am always inspired by everything that is beautiful, whether it is an artist or a design or just Gods creation, I would also say that I have always had my own style in my work and almost never try to follow a certain style that I have seen.

I love this piece, can you tell me about the process of creating it? Have you explored this style before? Or was this created for something specific?

The process was, a sketch or the map as I would call it, and that would be the basis of my creation, I almost never start without it, once I crack the direction then I would start thinking about the execution and the path to take. About the style, well I don't think of my work as style, I think it is more towards I do what I feel, it is only when I am finished with it that I say "Yes! That's what I was tying to do". I almost never tried to repeat a style that I have seen elsewhere on my work. I feel that It is like a code of respect between artists.

In your image "Floating Islands" where was ZBrush used?

ZBrush helped me sculpt the geometry and take it to the next level in a short time. Modeling, UVs, Painting and scenes setups was between Lightwave and Modo. With ZBrush I was able to put the final touches that would make it come to life. ZBrush helped me start painting the UV map textures and setting up the foundation of the look and feel. I also generated some of the whales textures by the amazing ZMapper ;)

Tell us about your pipeline.

I start with Modo, then go to ZBrush, then finally render with Lightwave. The thing with software today is that they work hand in hand to complete each other, for instance ZBrush is very specialized in what it does, it focuses on the need of the artist and helps the creator to complete his task sufficiently with a smooth flow, artists have never had it this good.

What projects are you working on now?

We have just completed the visualization for the Master Plan for the Kingdom of Bahrain with one of the leading Architectural firms in the world, we have helped restructure and rebuild old and new cities for the country. Now I will be working more onto the movie project that we have been trying to get the time to start, hopefully I will be able to focus more on creating more Characters and environments for the movie.

Any last comments for us?

I would like to say Thank you to Manuel at Pixologic and Pixologic for appreciating the work I do. I would also like to thank all the development team and staff at Pixologic for there dedication to work together to help create some of the best tools ever created for the CG industry, I always expect the ideas to be fresh and most importantly designed for the end user, the artist, allowing the artist to continue being an artist without the restrictions and boundaries of a computer.

[ashamefullife]

ash-blond & peacock-blue

On such a pleasantly mild summer evening, surrounded by chirping birds, Albedo sometimes forgot what time it was, forgot to look at his pocket watch, and forgot to ride back to town in time. His old bicycle, slightly rusted in some places, was leaning against an apple tree. He himself dangled his legs half over the rock he had climbed and sat on. From there was truly a fantastic view over Mondstadt, though the spot was a bit too far away to see more than blurry outlines of the city walls and houses.

Albedo exhaled loudly and ran his hand through his loose ash-blond hair. The sun was slowly tilting towards the horizon, which meant that the sky had already changed by several shades and levels of blue. Normally, Albedo would take the opportunity to capture this chart of honey yellow, mandarin, fire red, turquoise and lilac on a canvas. He would crawl over to his backpack and search for matching colors, mixing them if necessary, probably almost missing the sunrise in his search. The painting would still look passable, not that he praised himself for it, but the people in town would have liked it for sure. It was always like that. Still, the young artist couldn’t be satisfied with his talent. Today Albedo didn’t pick up a brush, today there would be no painting to show Klee and the other children in the neighborhood. That was unusual for him.

But usually, Albedo's mind wasn’t on certain person either. He would’ve never imagined that it would throw him off track like this - especially now, at a time when he was so busy trying to hold his life together by any means necessary. A nervous breakdown, he thought and then a soft but panicky laugh escaped his mouth. While his fingers were still caught in the middle of his hair strands, he dropped his back onto the warm rock. Although Albedo couldn’t see the sunset anymore, his thoughts felt lighter and his eyes relaxed after staring into sunlight for so long. To lie here, somewhere surrounded by trees, by nature, by fresh air - gave him the feeling of being alive, of an emotion, even if he did not always feel. Even in moments of inner numbness and dullness.

People, on the other hand, gave him the feeling of being a burden, the feeling of having to be active and productive non-stop. It was important to be someone, to be useful for others. To function right. A human machine until the point one could no longer be or no longer wanted to be human. Albedo had already learned that before he came to Mondstadt and he had never questioned it. He liked to learn and work, he liked to be diligent and he knew a lot from an early age on. Others would describe him as inquisitive and curious, but also as a loner and rather quiet type.

But since he knew Kaeya, Albedo began to question things. All philosophical thoughts he had discussed with Sucrose, a girl who sat next to him in some university courses, never seemed to connect with himself - whether he was blind, whether he just didn't want to see it. He didn’t know.

Since he knew Kaeya, he noticed. He realized how naive he had been, how much energy he had lost in the past, how many things he didn't know, even though he loved to learn and was inquisitive and curious. All these details made sense and they were true, not because Albedo wasn't trying, but because he was trying in the wrong corners or trying too hard. He finally understood that it was okay not to have to please everyone.

Nevertheless, the young artist hated this truth, a reality he would like to avert. And he hated that it was Kaeya who gave him the words, the sense, the feeling of meaning, of emotion.

At best he wanted to tell himself that he hated all of this, but it was surprisingly hard. Because every time Kaeya wore his long peacock-blue hair open and took individual strands in his hand, he looked over to Albedo. Followed by stroking some hair out of his face, slowly, practically in slow motion, and every time he did so, this guy grinned. A small dimple formed in his left cheek, nearly invisible, not for an artist, and a skin incredibly delicate and smooth, darker than of the other Mondstadt citizens. The sky-blue eye on the ash-blond young man, no matter where or when, queer through the lecture hall, around the foyer, in the library. As if Kaeya knew what Albedo was thinking. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to immortalize the peacock-blue hair and the owner of it on paper.

Albedo hardly noticed how it was getting gloomy around him, the sun had passed the horizon by 3/4 and the first fireflies were buzzing around in the air. Warmed up by the sun shining during the day, the rock beneath him still radiated pleasant warmth and he slowly turned on his side and pressed his cheek against the stone. The touch felt not unlike a hand. How lonely. How beautiful.

Clearly, he imagined Kaeya's hand, he imagined Kaeya lying next to him. On this lukewarm summer evening when it was not worth being productive or depressed. On which Albedo could have painted a sunset but had changed his mind - because the words in his head that had formed into Kaeya-poetry were louder than the inspiration for art. All the rumors Albedo had heard about the Casanova, the macho, the loudmouth, the egotist. All the women who wanted to bring Kaeya a coffee in the morning, get in his way, while he was almost late for his first class. All his jokes, sarcastic replies, his permanent laughter, and grin - how he knew what he was doing to please. Albedo thought he would loathe Kaeya, but when the ash-blond realized, when he absorbed and understood.

Internalized.

The fascination was overwhelming, the interest awakened in him confusing.

All the terms he usually used in chemistry and physics seemed too scientific. A pure theory. Because what did it mean, what was that chemical love formula, it was one with which you couldn't explain it. Red cheeks and butterflies in bellies have nothing in coming with letters and hexagons.

No matter how hard Albedo tried to remember their first conversation or how words eventually turned into sentences, he couldn't recall it. A whole semester long, the two did attend a few classes together, knew each other's names, and probably had a handful of mutual acquaintances - but didn’t talk. Nothing unusual at a rather large university for two students whose majors took different directions. Still, there must have been a moment, something that had shifted Albedo's attention for a second. It seemed to the blond as if his life would hang on this memory. He wanted to know, he longed for this moment. Albedo needed to understand when the first time had been, when he had looked over at Kaeya and felt him no longer as a student among all the other students, but as a man out of a painting. Too beautiful, too bright to look at with the naked eyes.

What he could remember was that Aether, one of their mutual acquaintances, had mentioned how Kaeya liked to drink Death After Noon, a particularly strong wine, and of the fact that shortly afterwards, Albedo had walked into a campus pub and poured himself a glass of it. The ash-blonde had wanted to know what was so special about it, wanted to know what Kaeya might have experienced on his tongue and taste buds. The wine was fine, Albedo was not a connoisseur in the field anyway, in fact he felt rather confused about why he had been drinking alone.

He didn't want more wine, he wanted to know more about Kaeya.

Kaeya revealed little about himself and tried to keep himself and everything around him in check. He lived with his facade, which got him ahead in life, but seemed to suck him dry emotionally. Control was nice, Albedo knew that too, but not long-lasting and very fragile. The peacock-blue haired one was joking, laughing, and giving his best flirts. Everyone around him fell for his charm, wanted to be around him and hung on his lips. No doubt, this man was charming, but Albedo could see that he also had wounds, scratches, places where his facade tore huge holes and left damage.

There probably wasn't that one moment in which Albedo was aware.

At some point random words had spilled out of their mouths, perhaps they had exchanged trivial text answers or planned a project for a course together. Albedo thought about everything they had talked about in the past. What ideas and fantasies had left his mind to connect somewhere and not be lost in the darkness, such as in his head. There was so much he hadn't said because he didn't know how. Perhaps because of insecurity, fear - because he liked to go on as it was right now. Sometimes they would meet on campus after their last class and sit under a tree. No one talked, shared silence. Kaeya read a few pages in his book and Albedo sketched a rose or a cecilia. It was as if they had agreed in advance, but most of the time it happened naturally and without them coordinating. Later in the evening, when they were both in their own homes, Kaeya would usually send passages that he had liked best from the pages he had read earlier. And then he would add a meme or a funny video, completely out of context, yet appropriate. Albedo had meanwhile completed the sketches, not always showing them to Kaeya, but the latter did not push him.

Some days Kaeya completely disappeared from the picture surface. Neither on campus nor in the chats, Albedo could reach him. Although he didn’t appear to be sick, he wasn’t present. These were the days the blond artist felt lonelier than usual. Funnily enough, he had been used to being alone in the past, a state that had never seemed particularly unpleasant to him. These Days, however, something was missing, a part that slipped into his circulation like serotonin and gave energy for everything necessary.

Yes, Albedo wanted to tell himself that he hated that it was Kaeya who gave him the words, the sense, the feeling of meaning, of emotion. That he hated how much he enjoyed Kaeya's attention, his glances, every conversation he was allowed to have with him. He was unhappily and happily attracted to him. Albedo was afraid that it would eventually hurt him and that he would not be able to bear the pain caused.

But it was so incredibly difficult not to long for Kaeya.

The ash-blonde opened his eyes and stared straight up to the sky, simply to find out that it had become pitch dark. Stars offered him the only source of light, even the fireflies were gone. His cheeks felt wet, the hand numb under the weight of his head and the rock under his body had cooled noticeably.

It was not easy to resist someone like Kaeya. And maybe Albedo didn't want to either.

[xaphrin]

@demaparbat​ - I hope this is okay! Like I said, I have a HUGE soft spot for dragon/dragon-shifters. 

Damian glared at his reflection in the mirror, hooking a finger in his lower lip and pulling it down to inspect the inside of his mouth. All the magic charms in the world weren’t enough to hide the fangs. His eyes flicked to his head and he groaned. Or the horns. The scales and wings were easy to camouflage, but these damnable horns… Damian ran his fingers through his hair, nails bumping up against the base of bone. Dick had suggested growing his hair out to try and hide them a little better, and while Damian had originally scoffed at the idea, now he was thinking it might be a better choice than just walking around in public with his horns out. 

He was mostly accepted into the human world… as long as he could hide his more magical or unusual parts, including the horns and fangs. Of course, being the son of a Wayne definitely helped him garner more acceptance from his peers than he had ever thought. No one would dare judge Damian or his appearance when his name was on half the buildings in Gotham. But, it didn’t make him feel any less self-conscious, and he always wondered who was being kind to him because of who he was. 

“You look lost in thought.” 

Damian’s face fell and he glared at the sudden reflection of Raven in his bathroom mirror. Normally, he would be embarrassed that she barged her way into his space while he was in nothing more than his underwear, but she didn't seem to notice, or she just didn't care. And, this wasn’t the first time she had done this. It wasn’t even the tenth. Raven had a habit of just showing up in his life whenever she felt like it - which was happening more often than not. 

“Do you just wander into people’s rooms because you can?”

“Sometimes.” She gave a one-shouldered shrug and took a step into his bathroom, her feet silent on the tile floor. “I should be better about it though, I’ve seen some things I’d rather not see. Do you know the kind of kinky sex Dick and Star are into? I’m from the depths of Hell and I didn’t even know about half that stuff.” She paused and glanced up at the ceiling, thinking. “Not that it doesn’t look fun.” 

Damian paled, feeling his stomach turn, and then be immediately placed by a genuine curiosity. Thinking about his eldest adoptive brother having any kind of sex - gross. Thinking about Raven having kinky sex - that  was something different all together. Something sizzled in the pit of his stomach, like a pot left to simmer for too long, but Damian ignored it.  He kept his face blank and took in the sight of her reflection again, sighing. “What are you doing here anyway?” 

“Dick called me in.” Raven crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door frame, watching him. “Something about a demon foe and cultists that needed my expertise. Also, Dick got into a bit of a spat with Constantine, so I was the second choice.” Her stare flicked to his horns, and then slid down the rest of them, her lip pulled up in disgust. “Where are you getting your charms?”

Damian finally turned to face her, leaning against the vanity behind him. “None of your business. And I don’t see why you even care, you don’t even try to hide what you are.”

“Why bother hiding myself from the world? They already know the truth about me.” Raven shrugged but didn’t look away, her expression hard to decipher. Damian wasn’t sure if it was nonchalance, or if she was trying to hide a pain that boiled inside her. “This is who I am - a demon spat out from Hell itself. Trying to hide that only makes me seem weak.” 

That felt like a punch to the gut, and Damian leveled another annoyed stare at her. “I am not weak.”

“I never said you were. If you took my words that way, I didn’t mean it like that.” She took a few steps forward and curled her fingers under the thin leather bracelet wrapped along his wrist. With a delicate snap the leather broke, and the inlaid gems fell to the ground with a delicate sound. Raven’s eyes flicked to his own, a soft hum in the back of her throat. “Mm… it’s cheap. That’s why I was asking where you got this.” 

Damian glared at her, snarling as he felt his wings pull out of his back as his scales spilled over his skin again. He fought against the urge to look at his reflection, pushing past Raven as he walked into his bedroom. “You’re a jerk.” 

Raven followed him, sighing. “I don’t like you hiding yourself, Damian. You know that, and I’ve made my opinion perfectly clear before. But if you’re going to do it, at least come to me. I can do better than this cheap excuse for charm. It looks like something you’d get at a discount booth at a ren faire.” She sat down on the edge of his bed, her eyes tracing the long lines of his form. “If you’re looking to try and hide who you are, you should at least come to the people who know what they’re doing.”

In his defense, the person he had gone to had been reputable. His grandfather had recommended him, although that didn’t mean all that much. Damian snorted, giving her a flat stare. “Knowing you, you’ll cast a glamour charm and make me look like a walking pigeon or something.” 

He flicked out his wings and finally looked in the mirror on the other side of the room. Right now, without the magic from the charm he usually wore, he felt a bit like he should be perched along the roof of a gothic church. His scales had returned in patches over his skin, shimmering a deep olive-gold color, and he looked down at his hands, his fingernails now sharp claws. 

“Ooh. I hadn’t thought of that.” She pulled her feet up under herself and leaned forward, continuing to watch him with a glint in her eyes. “Or, I could make you look like your true form.” 

Damian turned and glared at her, his wings rustling with the movement. He stepped forward and growled. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

“Mm. I know when not to try your patience, Dami.” 

Her little nickname for him burned against his skin in the most uncomfortable way, and Damian tried not to purr at the sound. He didn’t want her to get the wrong impression of him. Raven was not a woman he entirely knew how to handle, and he wasn’t sure if he liked that about her, or if it infuriated him to no end. Probably a little of both.

She cocked her head to the side and let a heavy silence settle over them. A moment passed as she continued to drink in the side of him, her eyes dark in the muted light of his bedroom. Finally, she spoke. “I like you like this.”

Damian looked down at himself, and his wings flicked again. “Like what?”

“LIke yourself.” Raven leaned back against her hands and sighed, obviously frustrated with him. “Like you’re not trying to hide who and what you are under some cheap spells and cheaper leather.” She paused and untucked her legs. “Besides, I like the horns and the wings. They’re kind of hot.” 

Damian gritted his teeth together and somehow managed not to react. Hearing Raven call this form of his hot was not something he needed to hear, because now all he could think about was… he felt the tips of his ears turn hot as his mind was filled with images of her pressed hard against a wall as he-

Stop.

He needed to stop.

“Here.” Raven reached into her pocket and pulled out a new charm, offering it to him. 

Even from across the room Damian could feel the difference in the magic between his old charm and this new one she had created for him. Damnit, he hated admitting she was right. He grabbed the charm from her outstretched hand and wrapped it around his wrist. The magic flooded his chest, and he took a deep breath, steeling his nerves before looking at himself in the mirror. Oh, she was good at this. Raven had even managed to hide his horns. Damian reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, feeling his normal scalp underneath.  

“I can’t do anything for the fangs. Trust me, I tried. But I was able to get your horns to disappear, so that has to count for something, right?” She stood up and gave him a half-smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She shrugged and took another step closer to him. “Which shows you exactly why you come to me for your charms and spells, and don’t trust anyone your grandfather recommends.”

He ran his fingers through his hair again, liking the feeling of his bare scalp against his palms. Finally, Damian turned and looked at her cautiously. “What do I owe you?”

“I want that sketch you did of me last week.” 

Her request was so sure and certain, that it felt like she had slapped him, and Damian stumbled back a few steps. He flushed. “That’s-”

“You made me look so soft.” She cut him off, and for a moment she looked sheepish and vulnerable. She looked like something completely different from how he usually saw her. Raven chewed on her lower lip and met his stare again. “I’m a demon, Dami. I’ve never had anyone view me as soft or… or touchable.” 

Damian suddenly wondered if Raven had ever been touched before. If someone had wrapped their arms around her and pulled her close. Whispered in her hair. Muttered soft things to her. Doubtful. Raven was from Hell, and he could only think of a few people who would be able to accept her as she was now. Damian tightened his hands next to his sides, and he tried not to look like he wanted to run his hands along her skin. No. He definitely shouldn’t let his mind travel down that path.  

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, glancing away again. “No one has ever made me feel like anything other than a terrifying creature of the night, meant to be feared and destroyed.” 

His lips twitched. 

“I like knowing that you made me feel… different. Soft and not frightening. It makes me feel like there are people who see me for more than what I am, more than just a curse of a being.” She fidgeted with the braid lying over her left shoulder, and it felt like she was throwing up her walls to try and protect herself again. “Besides… letting me see you in your normal form, wearing nothing more than a measly pair of boxer briefs is payment enough.” She gave him a coy smile. “Like I said… the wings are kind of hot. As are… other attributes.” 

Damian flushed again, narrowing his eyes at her. “Shut up.” 

[hopiewrites]

Nobody - OHSHC

pairing - host club x reader

ongoing series, chapter 2

word count - 4,595

chapter 1 & 3 up now!

-> back to masterlist

02

Windows to the Soul

The school is so peaceful at sunrise.

Walking down the empty halls of Ouran academy, the tired female got to soak in it’s quiet beauty; the soft yellows and pinks of the early morning sun lied beautifully on the white of the large window sills, casting everything in shades of pinks. She smiled softly to herself.

Tired as she may be, the sight of the clear sky, the stars still dotted sparsely across the expanse, she couldn’t help but feel in awe of it’s effortlessness; the red cardinals that floated in the air bid her good morning. Her light footsteps echoed down the hallway, along with the song she was humming as she walked.

Opening the door to the host club, she pulled all the curtains back and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, admiring the now bright turquoise of the sky before walking into the kitchen area - where a mountain of dirty dishes awaited her. She sighed at the sight, pulling on the blue rubber gloves that was left out for her - along with a grocery list from Kyoya - and got to work.

She decided that, maybe, it wouldn’t be as bad doing this as she thought it’d be. If its always this serene, maybe she’ll even come a bit earlier so she can just sit and watch the sunrise from the roof; she’d heard that there was a garden up there, but, she doubted that any of the plants would be in bloom at this time of year.

“(Y/N)?”

Her daydreaming came to a halt at the sound of a warm voice, honey like in it’s sticky sweet nature. She stopped the water and turned, removing the gloves and rolling down the sleeves of the dusty light blue mock-neck she was wearing, and peered at the male who somehow made it all the way to the kitchen without making a sound.

For some reason, her voice was soft - as if not to disturb the wistful feeling of the chilled air. “Oh, Tamaki, right? What are you doing here so early this morning?”

The male beamed when she said his name, a smile playing on his lips as he fully entered the room - the door closing with a soft click behind him. He took few steps nearer, and she noticed how sleepy he looked - and how the natural light that flooded the room made him glow, the golden of his messy hair nearly blinded her by how it shined. His eyes were smiling, warm in just what they were, in what they are; shimmers of blues and reds and violets made his iris the most beautiful shade of plum.

She noticed herself staring, and his smile growing - blushing, she averted her gaze towards the window. Tamaki kept his eyes on her.

The girls (S/C) skin seemed to sparkle in the light - the small acne scar on her face was highlighted, and oddly enough, he found it cute, how it sat on the apple of her cheek. The rich (E/C) of her iris’ was hidden from him by her bashfulness, but he found himself drawn to her, wanting to just look, to just see, because she keeps hiding herself away behind her eyelids and hunched shoulders - it was then, in that moment that he realized he wants to witness the beauty that hid herself away.

He realized he’d been silent, and a slight blush dusted his cheeks. “I just wanted to make sure you found everything okay, and to see if you needed help with anything. I mean, since it is your first day and all!”

The still air began to dance with Tamaki’s words; his breath twirling with the  once stagnant atmosphere.

For some reason, his words touched her. Maybe it was because she’s tired, or just in a sentimental mood, but she found herself thinking of how kind he was for going out of his way for something so small like that. She slipped into a smile with ease.

He beamed once again; like a puppy who got a treat.

“Aww, you didn’t have to do that. Thank you, though. I’m just finishing up the dishes, then I planned to go get the ingredients at lunch break since the shops aren’t open right now.”

Tamaki frowned, “then when are you going to eat?” He placed his hands on his hips, scolding the girl, “a lady can’t skip her meals,”

“Well, this lady can and will ,” she replied - a playful grin adorning her features; in truth, she was just going to drink some milk on the way, and she was fine with it. She can eat later. Maybe it was the blessing of the sun that made her relax in his presence.

Though, he was persistent. “At least make yourself something when you come to put the groceries away.”

She sighed, nodding hesitantly, “that’s okay, right? Like, I won’t have to pay for it?”

“Nope! Don’t worry about it. You have to eat well if you expect to be our errand girl, after all!”

There he goes, hiding away behind his obnoxious front again.

“Okay. But, we should be getting to class, now. Don’t wanna be late,”

Tamaki nodded, and opened the door for the girl - who scrambled out quickly - a thank you falling from her lips.

- nobody -

For some reason, she couldn’t stop thinking about those eyes of plum; how they looked in the sun, how bright and warm they were. How kind they seemed. But, then again, maybe she’s reading in too much of what they really were - merely eyes. She often read people well, purely out of either boredom or of curiosity - or sometimes, just because she felt drawn to them, just like she did in that moment, bathed in the beams of light through the open window.

The teacher was going in depth of color schemes and how different colors have been used, what they’ve signified throughout history.

purple, the color of royalty, ambiguity, wealth and magic.

In her sketchbook, beside the little coloms of notes she’d bothered taking, she began sketching the eyes of a male who’d managed to edge his way into the front of her usual fleeting thoughts. Unusual , is the word she settled on describing him as, with his obnoxiously over the top personality and his rose colored view of life. She’d only known Tamaki for a little over a week, and yet he’s already charmed his way into her subconscious.

Maybe she can understand why all those girls seem head-over-heels for him, now - though, she’s nowhere near that yet. Just, sketching a few pictures of his eyes, of his lips. Nothing more.

- nobody -

By the time lunch break rolled around, plenty more than just a few pages in her sketchbook was full of drawings of him, and none of them she was satisfied by. None of them reflected what she saw in them perfectly, and she’s scared she’ll forget if she doesn’t have something to remember it by.

Pulling the grocery list out from the back pocket of her black jeans, she headed out to the shops with a head full of cotton; mind too busy floating around the stars to be considered conscious.

The shops weren’t as busy as she imagined they’d be; only a few people mingling  around, much like herself. Tossing items one by one into the basket that hung on the crook of her arm, she thought of how bizarre it was for her to be doing this - doing errands for a host club, lest one made up of men she barely knew.

What were the chances of meeting them like the way she did? If they’d met a different way, she wondered if they would’ve even bothered to talk to someone as invisible as herself - because from her assumptions, people like them have no interest in wilting wallflowers like her.

It was lonely, feeling like nothing more than gum stuck to the bottom of peoples shoes.

Checking out the abnormal amount of overpriced groceries, she sighed as she speed walked her way back to the large campus of Ouran, promising herself a sandwich once she returns.

- nobody -

On the counter, haphazardly sat paper bags with a note in messy handwriting;

hi hosts,

sorry about the mess. ill come put these away + clean up after the guests etc. after classes end. i was running a bit late today :)

-(Y/N)

Kyoya’s clenched jaw relaxed at the for a moment while reading the small note. He stuffed it in his pocket with half a mind, and went to help prepare everything before their guests arrive - Haruhi preparing the tea and coffee, as well as pulling the premade sandwiches made by their new helper out of the fridge to place on plates, along with different kinds of cake, hand picked by Mitsukuni himself.

Haruhi was thankful for the new found speed of getting prepared, she now not having to stay late after school to make what seems like hundreds of sandwiches - the brunette still cringes thinking about the cramps she’d always get in her fingers afterwards.

Cracking her knuckles with a sigh, Haruhi made her way out to position herself for the opening of the doors; welcoming the ladies in an over dramatic fashion as always. She really couldn’t bring herself to dislike what she was doing - even if she used to attempt to convince herself otherwise, she rather liked getting to see the smiles on the girls faces, and getting to spend time with her unlikely bunch of friends made her warm inside - even if it was a bit awkward for the introverted girl. She charmed her guests, making them swoon, just as usual.

It felt like time had flown by before the guests had bid their goodbyes, and (Y/N) peeked her head through the door, eyes landing on the other females chocolate hues. “Hi, (Y/N)-san.”

The meek girl smiled small at the greeting, walking her way into the room, messenger bag slung over her shoulder and hair now pulled out of her face with a bobby pin on the top of her head.

“Hello Haruhi-san. I’m just here to help with clean up-”

“(N/N)-chan~!” She stumbled at the force of the impact of the 3rd year, arms locked around her waist in a tight hold, Honey’s grinning face shining up at the startled girl. “Um, hi, senpai.”

Haruhi chuckled at the sight, finding the timid nature of (Y/N) clashing with the clingy-as-ever Honey, amusing.

“Oh, Look who’s here!” Tamaki’s loud voice played off the walls, still as chirpy as ever - he took long strides towards the girl, still tied up in her elders embrace.

The host club was almost empty, save for the aforementioned blonds, the silent Takashi, Kyoya, who was in the back room going through the host’s profits today, and Haruhi, who mingled about with nothing better to do.

Well, maybe they wanted to get to see their little errand girl - not that they’d say that out loud, at least.

Honey squeezed her one last time, before letting go and trotting back over to Mori, who only mumbled his name in response. She was tense at the contact, it being unexpected; and understandably so, because a greeting like that for anyone who didn’t know Honey would be weird. She brushed it off as something she’d just have to get used to.

“Our dear little kitten, you’ve come to visit me, haven’t you?”

“So, (Y/N), do you want me to stay and help with clean up? I don’t have anything to do, so…” Haruhi trailed off, more as a statement, honestly, as she started wiping down tables.

“Um, okay! Thanks, Haruhi-san..” She paused, glancing over at the sulking Tamaki, who was being laughed at by Honey who sat happily in Mori’s arms - what a strange bunch.

After retreating the necessities, and bidding Mori and Honey a quick goodbye - kendo practice, mumbled the stoic with a nod of his head. he had a voice as deep as the ocean itself, she noticed, thick and dark blue, lulling itself through his chest. It was comforting to her, to say the least.

And that left the two girls, busying themselves with small tasks, and Tamaki, who, oddly enough, sat and observed them; his typically expressional features unreadable from the sparse glances the questioning girl was able to give him. Haruhi seemed happy enough, nonchalant smile on her pretty face as she packed up, sending a wave towards the girl cutely.

“Um, Tamaki-Senpai?”

Said male jumped at that, snapping his head towards the soft voice; “what’re you still doing here? Haruhi just finished up and tried to bid goodbye, but you didn’t even hear her.”

His eyebrows shot up - did he really not? He glanced around the now vacant room, not spotting his princess anywhere - only (Y/N), who awkwardly hovered by the armrest of the couch.

It wasn’t quite sunset yet, but the dandelion yellows that began to leak into the blue hues of the sky served as its near coming. She noticed how innocent he looked when caught off guard.

Her inquiring stare made him feel vulnerable - in his mind he grasped at something, anything, to turn the focus back onto the girl beside him - he wasn’t use to being the one flustered; something in her stare felt like it was boring into him, picking apart his brain and looking into his soul, it made chills raise on his arms and pink to grow on his porcelain cheeks.

On the other hand, she did this completely unintentionally; she was taking in as much of his eyes as she could possibly manage, caught up in her own need to know what lurked within those eyes of his, reading into him like a book she couldn’t get enough of.

It was only the two of them, in an empty room flooded by the waltzing sunlight of late afternoon - but if you looked closely enough, felt deeply enough - you could see the array of colors that spilled themselves all over the walls, floor and high ceiling, being covered in the clashing of the beginnings of something new, something beautiful.

It was the flooding of warmth on a cold winters day.

It overwhelmed the both of them.

“D-Did I?”

“Yeah. Uh,”

A beat of silence.

“I have to hurry to my shift, so.. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Ye-Yeah! I’ll see you tomorrow. Good luck at work! Get home safe, Princess.”

The door closed gently after her leave, and Tamaki was left alone in her aftermath.

Firstly, he gave himself a pat on the back for picking himself up at the end of their small conversation - secondly, he couldn’t help but to feel like he just emerged from the under belly of the sea.

The piercing gravity of her gaze lingered with him the rest of the day.

- nobody -

“Hello! Did you find everything okay?”

“Yes, I did.”

“That’s good! Your total will be $27.93. Thank you, come again!”

That was, what seemed like, the millionth time she’d had that exact exchange. people came and went, some more troublesome than others - she had a lady in line, arms full of books, and a purse full of expired coupons, demanding every single one of them be applied - but other than those few bad apples, it was a pretty normal day at the bookstore. her coworker, Daiki, was out sick today so she offered to take his shift, which he was ever grateful for; that’s why she’s working so late tonight, having to close up shop and ride the 11 o'clock train, which she was dreading to do.

the cute barista who worked in the Starbucks at the far side of the store, a foreigner from Germany with a name she couldn’t even begin to pronounce, gave her a sympathetic smile as she clocked out and went home or the day. (Y/N) sighed, propping her head up on the counter.

Her manager chuckled, “Me too, kiddo.”

He was a man in his mid 50’s, with graying hair and the beginnings of crows feet forming around his eyes; he had a kind looking face, and it just lit up when talking about his favorite book and movies - all of which were in black and white. of course, she would know, having had an internship, then being hired when she was of legal age; she’s been here for what felt like her whole life.

The extroverted man has always been kind to her, passing the time by talking fondly of his daughter, who is now in college, and his husband, who’s come to visit work a few times, bringing his spouse his forgotten lunches or to bring staff his specialty homemade cookies - which everyone absolutely adored.

In all honesty, he was like a father to the girl. he would comfort her when she was caught crying in the breakroom - which has happened more than a few times - and he knew best of her home situation and life in general, offering advice and listening to her talk. she’d even given him a few drawings that she made for him, and he’d hung them up on his fridge at home. he made her feel safe, and loved - just like a father should.

“Long day at school?”

“Yeah,” she sighed out, “you know that club that I owe? the one I was telling you about? I had to go like 2 hours earlier to wash dishes and stuff. I swear I’ve been awake for too long.”

The older nodded, taking a sip out of his water bottle. “And at lunch I had to go get groceries. The whole list cost like, 3 paychecks worth of stuff. It was insane,”

He snorted at that. “so they gotcha on dish duty? And how long are ya gonna have to to this, again?”

“Um, this whole semester, I’m pretty sure. I don’t know how expensive those teacups were, but goddamn.”

“Language, missy.”

She rolled her eyes, genuine smile on her lips, “okay, dad.” He also cracked a smile.

“Why don’t you go ‘head and go home, alright? Like you said, you’ve been awake too long. Don’t want ya going crazy on me,”

Her eyes widened a bit, at the offer, but it was tempting. She felt her body disintegrating from the inside, and with all the coffee’s she had this shift, it’s not surprising. Her hands shook with a caffeine overdose, and every movement of her body felt like she was wading through water.

After that moment of contemplation, she nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you day after, okay, old man?”

“Sure thing, (Y/N). Get home safely, okay? You got that pepper spray I gave ya?”

She smiled at his concern, “don’t worry, I always keep it in my bag. I’ll make sure to text you when I get home.” he had gotten it for her one shift when she was talking about being followed one night on her way home, by a creepy man she didn’t know, and he had been worried sick for her - said he’d beat him up if he ever saw the bastard - she had only laughed fondly at his kindness.

“Okay. Have a goodnight, now.” he said, patting her shoulder.

She nodded, “You too.”

- nobody -

12:02 am

Quietly, she moved through the house, peeking her head in the mother’s room to see her resting peacefully. She then turned back to go the the bathroom just down the hallway, washing her face and changing into the freshly washed fuzzy pajamas she’s been excited to wear. Throwing herself into bed, it was an amazing feeling that washed over her - crawling under the blankets and wiggling her toes in efforts to warm up - she was sure that she’d be able to sleep well tonight.

2:17 am

And how wrong, she was. Hours of tossing and turning, her cat jumping on and off her bed constantly, flicking his tail in her face and howling just for the fun of it. She sighed heavily; every time her eyes closed, the image of Tamaki, bathed in the golden light of morning, sleepy plum eyes and lips pulled up in a grin, just wouldn’t go away. The colors of him wouldn’t leave her mind, no matter what else she tried to think about.

Her cat sat on the window sill, wading his sleek grey tail through the air, staring at her as she rubbed her eyes frustratedly.

4:10 am

Eraser shavings stuck to her sweater.

Pages and pages, the fronts and backs filled with attempts to get it right. Attempts to immortalize a moment that’s already dead - it’s faded memories windswept in her sketchbook.

She was embarrassed by her failures.

5:57 am

Already, it was time to leave - to make sandwiches for that stupid host club and those stupid boys and their stupid guests - well, she didn’t really feel that way - but rather, it was the lack of sleep that made her hate, well, most things. Already walking her way to school in clothes that she felt unsatisfied with wearing; the same pair of light washed jeans from days before, and a black sweatshirt she pulled over a cropped tank top, only because she was too lazy to take it off before hand.

She ate a hearty breakfast, consisting off a glass of almond milk - forgotten her lunch in the fridge at home, and only had 2 dollars, her sketch book and a squished fortune cookie in the bottom of her bag for the day. No pencils. No notebooks. Nothing.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment, feeling the cold hands of winter holding her own; as if trying to comfort her.

She let it.

- nobody -

After the meals were made, wrapped up nicely in overpriced decorative napkins and sat in the fridge, she was winded by the effort. With half an hours time remaining until she needed to get seated in a classroom, the tired girl chose to sit on a chair at a table nearby the large windows that overlooked the campus; a fountain surrounded by patches of yellow grass sat pretty in her view, the cloudy periwinkle sky draped itself in the background gracefully.

She kicked off her old vans and pulled her legs up in a criss-cross position on the chair, stretching her arms and torso out on the cold tabletop with a huff. Her cheek was squished on her upper arm, drowsy eyes losing their ability to focus; her eyelids closed heavily, as her breathing turned soft and rhythmic - she couldn’t help but to bask in the filtered sunlight that fought through the cracks of the blankets of tear filled clouds.

She slept.

- nobody -

“Awwww (N/N)-chan is so cute when she’s sleeping!”

“Shhh Honey-senpai! You’ll wake her up!”

“Yeah, who would’ve thought she could look so peaceful,”

“Isn’t Princess (Y/N) so adorable!? Quick, someone get a photo!”

What’s going on?..

The sleeping girl stirred, causing everyone to pause, holding their breath.

She let out a yawn, scrunching her nose, and peeked one of her (E/C) eyes open, to the sight of the entire host club staring straight at her.

Her eyebrows knitted, still in a fuzzy, dream-like state, not processing anything at all. She scrunched her nose again.

The click of a camera could be heard, along with familiar mischievous giggles - that turned into hard laughing at the face she pulled.

It was priceless.

She sat up quickly, lips parting and wide eyes - face red as rose, all the way to the tips of her ears.

Even Mori let out a short laugh at that.

“What.. What- what time is it? How long have I been asleep for?”

Kyoya, with that ever present smirk plastered on his face, checked his watch, “I believe it’s 4:41.”

“I.. I don’t..”

The girl groaned, letting her head fall on the back of her hands, brushing off the feeling of watchful eyes felt on her back for the time being.

A hand landed itself on her shoulder.

“C'mon, (Y/N). You obviously needed the rest, so don’t be too upset about it.”

The girl sighed, fallen head rising from her hands as she gazed at the auburn boy, who smiled sympathetically at her through long eyelashes - one of the twins, though she couldn’t be sure of which one it was; if she had to guess, just by his thin voice, maybe it was Kaoru?

She nodded, sitting up right in her chair, “yeah, I guess you’re right. Thank you.. Kaoru?” It was more of a question than a statement, but it was confirmed as soon as she saw his widened eyes and shocked smile - I got it right!

She smiled, then cringed at the tightness of her muscles from being hunched over the table for so long.

She missed how Hikaru gave her a skeptical glare from aside.

“You okay, (Y/N)?”

She only gave a silent nod to the worried twin, rolling her head, unfurling her legs and stretching deeply - her knees popping at the action - and stood up, now looking around the room with her mind alert. It was then that she noticed Hikaru’s stern gaze, a camera held loosely in his grip; they made eye contact, sharply and only for a second, for the both of them to snap their heads the other way - as if they were stubborn children.

“Just a bit stiff is all. Wait, weren’t you guys gonna have guests coming in today? What happened?”

“Tamaki decided to cancel, and, in his own words, 'let the princess sleep,’. ” Kyoya replied.

Said male lit up red, hand raising to cover his mouth as he avoided eye contact, “Kyoya, I thought we agreed to not mention that…”

The ravenette smirked, “I remember no such deal.”

(Y/N) blushed lightly, sparing a look or two at the reddened male, awkwardly shifting in her spot. “Well, uh, I should probably head home,”

She slowly made her way across the room, biting her lip in an anxious habit.

“I like your socks, (N/N)-chan!”

… What?

Looking down, the feeling of horror that enveloped her was unexplainable.

She had forgotten to put her shoes back on, and there on her feet, were her pink sailor moon socks, on display for all to see, bright against the white marble floor.

Quickly she jumped over towards the table, hastily shoving her shoes on her feet and running back towards the door all in the span of 10 seconds - the lighthearted, teasing laughter of the hosts was all too much for her right now.

“Uh, bye guys, see you!”

It seems, nearly every time she leaves that room, she’s running away.

Tamaki and Kaoru both smiled fondly at the girls clumsy nature - while her absence left nothing but wary skepticism in Hikaru’s mind.

Kyoya was left asking, to nobody in particular, “That girl, what are we to do with her?”

- nobody -

“Hikaru, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, just… That girl. She rubs me the wrong way.”

Kaoru quirked a brow at his brother, “Who, (Y/N)? Why?”

“I don’t know. Doesn’t she seem a bit..”

“A bit what?”

Hikaru huffed, averting his eyes towards the passing scenery outside the window of the limo they rode in - red velvet seats and mini T.V.’s hung on the back of the headrests in front of them. The yellowing grass and dead flower bushes passed by in flurries, clouds being left behind in the sky, the low hanging sun chasing after them.

“Slow, maybe? Dumb?”

“What makes you say that?”

“The way she acts, constantly embarrassed or running away. Like she’s scared of us, or something.”

The younger of the two furrowed his brows, thinking for a moment.

“And that makes you think she’s dumb…?”

Hikaru huffed again, scratching the side of his head, “No. I mean yes. I mean, I don’t know. It’s been over a week since she’s known us, right? By now even Haruhi was comfortable with everyone. I just don’t understand why she still acts so weird around us.”

Ah. It clicked for Kaoru.

“You can’t compare everyone to Haruhi, You know. She’ll warm up to everyone soon, she just needs time,”

Haruhi was the first person he ever let have a look inside - the first person he let care for him other than Kaoru - so it’s natural that he compares everyone to her. She’s what he’s used to, he knows her, he’s comfortable with her; he knows nothing and nobody else.

Hikaru wants to befriend the shy girl, but he doesn’t know how to - just as she doesn’t know how to let herself be befriended.

Kaoru, then, makes it his mission to make her open up to them - because he knows, better than anyone else, how lonely it is to be trapped inside your own world.

- nobody -

The clouds of yesterday hung heavily in the atmosphere, blanketing the moon and her stars, as tears of the gods and goddesses alike puddled on the ground. Yellow street lights were dimly lit along the sidewalk, pieces of stray plastic caught in the downwards flow of the rain water stream, disappearing under the rusted drains that sat dirty on the side of the road.

In her hands, was a cup of hot chocolate - warming her cold fingers through the brick red mug - staring out into the black of night through the curtains tied up from her spot, sitting on the floor. Her cat nudged the back of her head from behind her shoulders, jumping from the bed she leaned against to her lap with grace. The feline’s green eyes peered into her own, then flopping down and curling himself up on her legs.

She remained still, eyes glassy and distant, as if looking, but not seeing . There were no thoughts, not a pathway for her mind to walk on; she floats, lost and alone, in the void of her consciousness; searching for something she doesn’t even know is there. It is in the blanks of her pages that she turns to, trying to read, and read again, the words that aren’t there - that never was in the first place.

She is hollow.

Beyond her skin, behind her ribcage and somewhere in the depths of her heart lies that of a canvas which hasn’t been touched - an expanse of colorless nothing, frozen in the ice of time that never seems to melt - monochrome in its emptiness. It froze her from the inside out, for inside she was nothing but a cowering child at the hands of a world whose people were as merciless as they were unforgiving, even when staring into the faces of the helpless.

One thing she knows for certain is, that hell isn’t made of lava, nor of the raging fires of satan himself; but of a desolate void, where the ice freezes even your words before they have a chance to leave your mouth. Hell is where the abandoned go to weep tears of frost, to let the arms of a grand nothingness envelope them in a cold embrace of loss.

It was only when she choked on a sob did she noticed there were tears running down her face.

Sitting her now cold drink on the floor, she wiped her face with her sleeves - biting her tongue until it felt as numb as she did.

Even though she felt alone, the clouds listened to her cries; they, too, floated along, inevitably though an unending sky, together they shared the same nothingness.

Together, they cried.

[believingispowerfulmagic]

“The Christmas Cottage” Chapter 1: Time

A/N: Happy Advent everyone! Here is my gift for the OQ Advent story, which was the one chosen to kick off the calendar! It’s a long one so I’m dividing it up in chapters. I hope you all enjoy this story based on the Hallmark movie “The Christmas Cottage.”

           Regina thanked her driver as she opened the car door. She shivered as the December cold filled the car. Stepping out into it, she closed the door behind her and quickly hurried toward the front door of the building in front of her. Reaching out, she wrapped her gloved hand around the golden handle and pulled the door toward her. The scent of pine wafted past her, coming off the festive wreath hanging on the door. It sent a pang through her heart but she pushed it aside as she strode into the warm building.

           She stopped at her mailbox, opening it and finding it empty. Figuring her fiancé already checked it, she closed the door and continued into the main part of the lobby. It was decorated for the season with wreaths hung on the walls and in between the elevators. An evergreen bough entwined with colored lights lined the desk where security sat and a tall artificial tree sat in one corner, its lights twinkling and fake presents resting underneath it. To complete the festive atmosphere, holiday music played over the speakers and in the elevators.

           It all seemed such a stark contrast to how her day had been. She was still trying to process everything that had happened as she passed their night security guard, Thomas. He tipped his hat to her as she headed straight for the elevator bank, in no mood to talk to anyone but her fiancé. Maybe then it would all feel real.

           As she rode up in the elevator, her mind was a jumble of thoughts and she got lost in trying to sort them out. She jumped as the elevator arrived at her floor and the doors opened. Taking a deep breath, she exited the elevator and headed down the hallway to her apartment. Regina pulled out her keys and opened the door, stepping inside. “Daniel? I’m home.”

           He didn’t respond but that wasn’t unusual. Daniel often continued working after he left the office and he liked to listen to music when he did so, meaning he likely hadn’t heard her. She knew he was home because the mail sat on the table where they kept it. Regina looked through the items and determined nothing needed her immediate attention.

           After hanging up her coat and scarf, she headed down the hallway and entered the bedroom they had converted into Daniel’s office. It was painted white with wood floors and decorated with framed black and white photographs of famous buildings. His drawing table was located by the large window in the room, giving him a gorgeous view of the Manhattan skyline as he worked.

           Daniel sat there, earbuds in his ear as his head bopped along to whatever song he was listening to. His pencil flew across the paper in front of him, sketching out a building Regina knew was going to be magnificent once it was built. She hated to interrupt him when he was in a groove but she needed to talk to him, so she gently placed her hand on his shoulder.

           He jumped and twisted his body to look at who had disturbed him, relaxing when he saw it was her. Daniel took out the earbuds and smiled at her. “Hey, babe. You just get home?”

           “Yes,” she replied, kissing him. She studied the building he was drawing, noting that it didn’t look familiar. “Is this new?”

           “It is,” he confirmed. “With luck, this is going to win the bid and become the new centerpiece for the Belfrey Center in Seattle.”

           Excitement and pride filled her, pushing her other feelings to the side. She knew his firm was going to submit a bid to Midas Industries but there hadn’t been a decision about which architect would be the one to design it. Daniel had been talking about it for almost two months and she knew he had been campaigning hard to be the one they chose. His hard work had paid off.

           “Congratulations!” she said, rubbing his back. “This is a big deal!”

           “Well, we haven’t secured the contract yet,” he said. “This is just for the bid.”

           “You were still chosen out of all the architects in your firm to create the bid. That means that they respect and value your work. Even you don’t get the bid, this is the start of big things from you. I just know it,” she told him.

           He grinned. “Thanks. How was your day?”

           The question brought her crazy and confusing day back to the forefront of her mind. Her good mood disappeared as she grew somber. “It was bad.”

           “Bad? How?” he asked, frowning.

           “Albert Spencer died,” she replied. “He had a heart attack last night. Or at least that’s the assumption since the janitor found him stiff and cold at his desk this morning.”

           Daniel’s eyes widened a bit. “How awful! What happens now?”

           She sighed, leaning against the wall as she felt fatigue take over. “I think they’re still working that out. We spent the day contacting all his clients. They are thankfully understanding and were expecting our work for them to pause for the holidays anyway. So now I guess it’s just the funeral and then figuring out who will be working with his clients after the New Year.”

“Are they going to replace him? Make someone else partner in his stead?” Daniel asked. She could see the wheels turning in his head and it made the knot in her stomach tighten even more, not loosen.

           “I don’t know,” she replied. “Everyone was talking about it but I think the other partners aren’t going to focus on that until after the New Year.”

           He nodded, rubbing her arm with a smile. “You’re a shoo-in for it, you know. You’re one of their best lawyers. Spencer had to know that or he wouldn’t have kept you on his team.”

           She knew he had a point but still shook her head. “I think Spencer was grooming Arthur King to take his place and he’s probably going to get it. Aside from Mal Draco, it’s pretty much a good old boys club.”

           “That’s not fair,” Daniel replied, crossing his arms as he frowned.

           “I know,” she replied. “But think about it. How many women are in top level positions at your firm?”

           He was silent before shrugging. “No company is perfect. I hope ours changes soon. But I can’t focus on that. I need to focus on this.”

           Daniel tapped the paper on his desk and she nodded. “Right. Just like I can’t focus on what the firm will do. I need to focus on Mary Margaret’s wedding. Which reminds me—did you ask Thomas downstairs to put a hold on our mail and newspaper?”

           “Oh.” Daniel paused but the sheepish grin he gave her when he forgot about something and was embarrassed by it did not appear. Instead, he stayed somber as he said: “We need to talk about that.”

           “You’re not coming,” she said, backing away from him. She didn’t pose it as a question—she just knew. Disappointment flooded through her as she pressed her hand to her stomach. “We’ve been planning this for months. I was really excited to go away with you.”

           “I know,” he replied soothingly, rubbing her arms. “We can plan another getaway, one where there’s no one else. Maybe we can spend Valentine’s Day on a tropical beach.”

           “It wasn’t just about us going away together,” she replied softly. “I was looking forward to going to the wedding with you. For us to hang out with my family and friends in my hometown. You’ve hardly spent any time with them.”

           He sighed. “I know and I understand it’s important to you.”

           “But,” she prompted, hearing it in his voice. It made her feel even angrier.

           “That’s all your past,” he said. “I’m more interested in our future.”

           Daniel slid his hand down her left arm until he could raise her hand up. She glanced down at the large square cut diamond sitting on a platinum band studded with smaller diamonds on her ring finger. Her heart melted a bit and she smiled softly. “Our future,” she repeated.

           “A future that will be even brighter if I nail this design,” he said, letting go of her hand as he motioned to his drawing. He gave her an earnest look as he continued: “And that’s why I need to stay here so I can work on it. I can’t afford to be distracted right now.”

           Her ire rose again and she pulled her hand from his grasp. “My friends would just be distractions?”

           “You know what I mean,” he said.

           “No,” she replied, crossing her arms as she glared at him. “I don’t. Please enlighten me.”

           Daniel sighed, carefully reaching out to rest his hands on her arms. “I meant that I would have way too much fun with you and your friends that I wouldn’t want to ever go back to our room to work. And I have some tight deadlines I need to hit, so I would either not hit them or have to lock myself in our room and not spend any time with anyone.”

           “Oh,” she said, her anger dissipating a bit. She should’ve known he had a good reason for what he said. Lowering her arms, she leaned closer to him as she said: “You should’ve started with that.”

           “Yeah,” he replied. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t want to spend time with your friends or that I didn’t care about them. I do. It’s just now isn’t a very good time.”

           She nodded, disappointed but more understanding. “I get it. I’m going to miss you.”

           “I’m going to miss you too,” he said, hugging her. “This will be our first Christmas apart.”

           The lump returned to Regina’s throat as she realized he was right. She tried to swallow past it. “Do you think you could sneak up to Maine for Christmas?”

           “I’m afraid not,” he said, shaking his head. “I wish I could but it just wouldn’t be feasible. Not for what would just be a night. Maybe two—but that would be pushing it. I pretty much need to be in the office on the twenty-sixth.”

           “Then what are you going to do on Christmas?” she asked, her heart hurting at the thought that he would be alone.

           He shrugged. “Honestly? Probably working. I’ll probably order Chinese or something.”

           “That sounds sad,” she told him. “It’s Christmas. You shouldn’t be alone. Why don’t I call Kathryn and tell her there’s been a change of plans so you’ll be coming to dinner?”

           “I guess,” he said hesitantly. “But I really need to get this done. It’ll probably be best if I just stayed home and worked.”

           Regina pressed her lips together, knowing that he was not big on celebrating Christmas and that he had described his ideal way to spend the day. Still, she pressed on as she rubbed his arm. “Look, if we can’t be together on Christmas, I will feel better if I know you’re with friends just like I will be.”

           He relaxed a bit and she knew his resolve was melting when he gave her a small smile. “Okay. If it will make you feel better, you can call Kathryn and tell her I can come.”

           “Thank you,” she said, kissing his cheek. “I’ll call her in the morning.”

           She stepped back, crossing her arms as she gave him a stern look. “Have you eaten? Or did you come straight home and start working?”

           His sheepish grin finally emerged. “I wanted to wait for you and figured I’d get some work done while doing that.”

           “Of course,” she said, rolling her eyes. “What do you want?”

           “I figured we could just order from the sushi place down the street. They’re usually quick,” he replied, taking her hand as they left his office.

           She frowned. “Are you sure? I could try to cook something quick. Maybe try one of Glinda Goode’s twenty-minute meals? It would take less time than delivery.”

           Daniel paused where their foyer exited out into their living room, gently rubbing her arms. “You’ve had a stressful, emotional day at work. Do you really want to cook?”

           His tone implied that it was a rhetorical question. That of course she didn’t want to do that—that no one would want to do that. Rather, they would want to lay on the couch and put up their feet until it came time to answer the door for the delivery person. She had to admit it did sound nice. And she would be able to get some work done in that twenty minutes.

           “You’re right,” she admitted.

           “I’ll place the order,” he told her, pulling out his phone. “You want your usual?”

           Regina nodded. “Yes, please. I’m going to go change.”

           “Okay, darling,” he replied, kissing her cheek. “I’m going to get a little bit more drawn on my building.”

           He moved back toward his office, head bent over his phone as he placed their usual orders. Regina sighed as she headed into their spacious living room. She navigated around the glass coffee table that sat between two black armchairs and in front of the matching black couch. Two tall lamps rested in corners, lighting up the room. As she headed toward the door that led to the master bedroom, she passed the small artificial Christmas tree she and Daniel had set up earlier that week. It came already decorated with white lights and matching white and black ornaments, looking very sleek and chic. They also had two stockings over the fake fireplace against the wall separating the living room from their kitchen. Both were black and white rather than red and white.  There were no other decorations and everything fit well with their décor.

           Regina, though, always wanted to do more. She longed to really decorate their apartment for the holiday—especially given how tall and wide their windows were. Lights would look amazing around the edges on them and she knew she could create little scenes in each window, even if no one else could really see them. It would be enough that she could and each year, she stood in the decoration aisle of the local story to admire the decorations. Yet she never purchased any, knowing that in the end, there would be no time to properly decorate as she and Daniel were often too busy. The only reason the tree went up at all was because they just had to take it out of the box and plug it in—just five minutes of set up, if that. And the stockings just hung on hooks they never took down from the fireplace, so it took them even less time.

           She missed having a real tree, though, and she missed spending a good chunk of time decorating it with ornaments that held lots of memories and special meaning attached to them. While she got to play Christmas music on Christmas morning, she wished she could play it all the time and dance around the apartment while either decorating or wrapping presents. Or while making every type of Christmas cookie known to man, the apartment smelling like gingerbread or peppermint. Instead, she usually listened to it through her headphones while working as already wrapped presents and factory-made goodies were delivered to their door.

           It was another reason why she was looking forward to spending Christmas in Storybrooke—the whole town loved the holiday and pulled out all the stops to celebrate it. There would be real Christmas trees that were properly decorated and music everywhere. And she knew Granny would keep them all well-stocked with cookies, pies, hot chocolate and eggnog—while Ruby would be stocked with all types of spirits to add to the latter two. She had wanted Daniel to experience that kind of Christmas at least once—even if she knew it wouldn’t change his feelings about the holidays, they would at least have the memories.

           Most of all, they would have time. It was a precious commodity here in New York. So she was looking forward to just being able to spend time with him without work interrupting them. Maybe they could finally start planning their own wedding…

           “Regina? Dinner’s here,” Daniel called out.

           She felt as if she was just jolted from a dream. Blinking a few times, she realized she had just been standing in her bedroom and hadn’t moved. She had stopped to think but hadn’t really had the time to do so. One day, she would reach the point in her life where she would have all the time in the world to do whatever she wanted.

           Regina realized she couldn’t afford to dawdle much longer. Clearing her throat, she called out: “I’ll be right there.”

           Quickly changing, she headed out to their dining room. Daniel set the table and pulled their food out of the bag it had been delivered in. She continued to the kitchen, pulling the stopper from the bottle of wine they had opened the other day. Pouring two glasses, she returned to the table and handed him one. He thanked her and they sat down together to eat.

           They discussed their new vacation plans as they ate and sipped their wine. Regina hoped her disappointment didn’t show. Daniel’s excitement over landing the Belfrey deal didn’t seemed dimmed so she guessed he didn’t pick up on it. He told her that they would have all the time in the world after her won that and got promoted to partner at his firm. Regina listened and nodded, hoping it would all come to pass as he said and they would finally have that most precious commodity.

           Time.

Continue reading on FFN, AO3 or Wattpad

[chromium7sky]

Damirae week day 1: Amnesia| You got me (crazy)

He was devastated.  

It was only 1 month before his wedding with Raven but things doesn't go as they plan, his fíancee where having her ultimate showdown battle with her father,  he almost lost her.  Lost in time and space.

She's trapped in forgotten dimension,  and thank god he has done some research to get her back with the help of other superheroes including John Constantine but....

Something went wrong. When he retrieve her back, the time and space travel were having difficulties due to the interference of her brothers who are still alive. Raven, who is now inherit her father's crown and title as Queen of the Under Realm used almost all of her power to prevent the assault but  whiplash happens when the power hit the barrier of time tunnel and almost hit Damian. Raven quickly shield him by wrapping her arm around her fíance and whisper to him that she loves him.

The shock from that whiplash made them stumbled and landed at the timeline just after Damian departure to fetch Raven from the ruin of Azarath.

The rest of the heroes who just watch him departure now puzzling as he comeback like it was a short distance walk journey. As Damian regain his senses, he quickly ask for medical team to take care of Raven who are now limping in his arm as she was heavily injured by the blow of her own power.

"I know Raven could heal herself in a miracle way but this damage on her head causing concussion,  perhaps it may lead to memory loss. Let us hope that it wasn't a big blow. " said Cyborg as he analyze the Mistress of Magic at the sick bay.

Damian Wayne who is now disgruntled with a twist felt in his stomach by the memory of seeing Raven being hit by the whiplash played over and over inside his head although they already in their safe haven. When Cyborg said hoping it wasn't a big blow,  he mentally frown. It is a BIG one.

Its been three days she's in coma,  he patiently waited by her side though, sometimes Bruce and his other Bat fam come and asked Damian to come home to get some rest and filling his stomach with some food. As he watch his fíanceè who is now unconcious on a clean white bed with bottle of IV punctured in her arms and the beeping sound of pulse monitor counting her pulse rate as well as her blood pressure,  the sight itself has killed his appetite somehow,  there is a long sofa nearby, so he decided to rest his tired shamrock eyes with a power nap.

Damian drifted  to sleep eventually,  Dick silently put a wooly nightwing-ish design blanket on his brother for comfort, thus, he and Kory took their turn to keep their eyes on Raven.

******** Damian's dream were unpleasant which he end up awake with heavy sweats and panting and he thought, perhaps, it  was the effect from the time and space travel. As he looked at Raven's bed, her face seems peacefully sleep despite all the beeping sound, machine were made.

Slowly he approach the bed and and sit on the chair has been recently placed there,  perhaps either by Dick or Kory. He rest his arm and his head at the edge of the bed while his finger tracing her palm and slowly wrap around her finger, then kiss her knuckle.

He sighed as he stared at her  that shown tranquility and peace. Seems like the sleepiness hasn't deserted him yet leading to few noded then he slowly land his head in the palm of unconcious Raven.

In a sudden, something awoken him. A twitch. He open his eyes as he seen her hands. Yes,  more responds!

He grab it with both of his hands discreetly and placed on his cheek as he observed her eyelashes begun to fluttered. His heart almost jumped as he seen her eyes opened. With all the hope and excitement, he take his breath and about to say something until...

"Who are you? And why are you hold my hand? "

*******

It's been months.

Raven now hang out at the justice hall after she's awaken is a good sign but the only thing that bothers him,  she... Doesn't remember about their relationship and their engagement.

She knew him,  the 'Damian Wayne' for his infamous brat attitude but what she didn't know that, both of them were suppose to be married two months ago and damn, he's a mess.

Sometimes she caught him staring at her while shes reading at the library,  sometimes when she walk in the garden.

Did they strike a conversation? Well, he tried but something kept holding him back like his father emergency meeting in Gotham,  Jon's calling from space mission. An ordinary person might throw their tantrum about it but Damian Wayne accept that now its not their time to have a deeper conversation. Yet.

******

She felt peaceful as she taking a stroll at the garden.  The flowers, trees, grass,  all of them seems like in heavenly. She remember something new today. A showdown. Something like that. She's fighting with something big.

It does ignite her magic and alter her appearance into the damn Queen of Darkness. She still wonder,  how did she end up on earth if she's already seal the dimension for good? She sighed and took a few step ahead and there, she saw him. A guy with complex aura surrounding him. Some of them are dark, some are sad, and the rest are bittersweet.

She's been wondering why she always bumped into him. Is he stalking her? Could it be, since he's the son of Batman. Maybe it's in their blood, she mentally chuckled.

"Hey, you! "

He look at her then slightly sneered.  "I have a name."

"Uh, Sorry, Mr. Damian Wayne. "

"It doesn't have to be THAT formal. "

Raven accidentally let out her snort. Quickly, she cover her mouth. She'd be damned if he heard... What? Is that a smile?

Before she's about to say,  his face change to his usual sour expression within nano second. "State your business then. " his stern voiced heard after a long silence.

"Oh uh... " she caught off guard.

"Well, nothing. Just wondering..." then her eyes caught up with a book he was holding that has pencil scribbled, more like doodling. "What are you doing?" she casually walk to him,  invading his personal space.

She could feel the intensity of his eyes as he gaze at her then shifted to the tree view. "Some research. " he blurted out automatically.

"Oh? " She was curious though. Everytime when she meet him, it feels like her body drawn to him like almost wanted to embrace every single of his being. She quickly discarded the thought. 'Damn twilight,' she cursed under her breath for reading cheesy supernatural novel.

"You seems tense?" Damian close the book and tidy up his tools.

"I don't know. I kind of trying to put up some missing puzzle of my memory. " Raven rubbed her chin as she stared blankly at Damian's shirt. Unintentionally.

Damian, uncomfortable of being stared, cleared his throat that made Raven jumped abit from her short daydream.

"You need help?" Damian, volunteer himself.

"You want to help me? " Raven in disbelief as the Son of Batman offered himself. This is rare.

"I could help to sketch out by the description, who knows, it might help you remember something," said the dark hair man as he casually dust off his pant and shirt.

"Well... Let's go! " Raven,  unconciously take his hand. She realise with sudden unusual movement as her eyes went wide just a second and slowly let go of him. "I'm sorry. I... Don't know what is happening. But it seems we kinda really close before I've lost my memory," she tried to laugh. Trying to make it less awkward.

When she saw his face, She saw something in his eyes; a melancholic, sad, and heavy gaze, of wanting to be acceptance.

"Perhaps. "

He turn his back on her, "Follow me."

Raven, bit her lips to keep her from being nervous, followed him as they making their way to Damian's specialize facility. A laboratory.

When both of them enter the building,  everything seems familiar to her. All the passage, the door,  the interior design; It feels like home. Damian put his sketch tool on work bench nearby the super computer and pulled out the chair and offer Raven to sit.

"I'm just gonna go fresh up abit,  then we'll start the session. "

"Got it."

"And... " Damian paused as he tried to remember something.

"Don't touch anything on that table. " he point out an area where it filled with microscope and some are advance machinery. Is that a laser?

"I am not a child, Damian Wayne. " Raven pouted.

"Then act like an adult. " Damian huffed and disappear into his room.

"Jerk." as the young lady fold her hand and sit on the chair quietly.

***** Its been 20 minutes, she looks at the clock then at the room where Damian disappear. She's rocking her chair back and forth while her eyes roaming everywhere.

Suddenly, she saw the sketch book on the table where Damian left earlier. The dark color seems intriguing for her to open its content. To reveal the mystery.

'I hate being curious cat but.... Why not take a little peek? ' her heart begging her to see. Raven take a deep breath then slowly she lean on the table to take a closer look on Damian's sketch book.

Slowly she open those black leather cover, and she almost fell off from her chair! The first drawing who greet her is her own potrait. Realistic and detail drawing of her face.

Her heart is pounding fast. 'What did I do to this guy? ' then she open up the next page. There were several person she could recognise like Dick,  Kory,  Mari,  some old man,  his other brothers and Bruce.

When she flip for more she saw her again,  this time she was hanging out with a creature,  a fluffy beast with batwing and ring on his nose.

As she flip,  she saw her,  sketches of her in simple line,  sometimes in complex mesh and shade. Different expression, even with dialogue. 'Did i ever said some of these line? ' as she read it because some of them are cheesy and romantic.

After almost all pages, her shaky hands close the book. 'Who is this guy to me? ' Raven feeling confused and nervous and her eyes looked at his door. This time,  she need to see inside for some answers.

She trust her instinct as she walked to his door. She gently knock but... No answer. Her hand slowly twisted the door knob and open the door.

She actually went into Damian Wayne's room. This is crazy, and her body made its own decision as if she's done it thousands time. She'll definitely in big trouble.

******** She's in his room. HIS ROOM!! Carefully she walking around, she saw a potrait of her hanging on the wall opposite to his bed. It was really her, in precise color. She felt her heart jump a little. "I don't think we're bestfriend. This is much more.... " her whisper trailed off as she mesmerized with his work.

"Are kidding me? What are you doing in my room?!"

Raven wince when she heard it.

"Look,  I'm sorry. I know i'm kinda bit annoying but your work did took my breaaaaaAAAAA!!!! "she quickly close her eyes.

Oh, dear.  Damian is in towel stood in front of her as he just come out from his shower.  Ah, no wonder he took a long time.

"What part you don't understand about..."

"Well, I didn't touch anything on that table. " Raven defend herself as she keep her eyes closed.

She could heard him sighed. "I did say 'act like an adult.'"

"Well,  Damian Wayne. Try to elaborate what act like adult means!" Raven then turn around from looking at him.

"Like talk to me like a person.  Not like a GODDAMN idiot who didn't look at me."

"I am not an idiot! " as she's annoyed as she facing him.

"Good. "

However, she tried not to focus on him,  his wet hair, those intense green eyes and his uncovered torso. Damn...

Damian crossed his arm. Amnesia or not, she has violated his personal space, not that Damian would care but still!

"I have so many question to ask. " Raven almost whispers.  "About the picture,  the sketch,  this familiar building. I... " she rub her arm as she try to sort out her mixture feeling. Embarassed, confused, happy, excited. What's with all of this whenever she's with him?

Damian arched his brow as he listen attentively. Tt, Of course she has seen his sketches.

"I feel... Happy whenever i see you. I feel like i want to hug you, some sort... Ugh this is sound insane." she closed her face with her palm. Damian definitely gonna call her pervert especially in this situation.

Damian slightly amused,  it was like listening to her first confession 8 years ago. Slowly he sit on his chair nearby.

"Why don't you take a seat? " Damian point out the chair in front of him.

"Uh... " Raven still feel nervous about it. Damian, in his towel. Sitting on that chair with arm and leg crossed.

"I won't bite."

She sneered then sighed as she landed on the leathered chair. "This chair is making me nervous. As i was saying..." she put her hands on her chest.

"I don't think you and I were bestfriend,  Mr. Wayne. I think its likely more than that. "

Did she Friendzone me? Damian's mind irritated by her statement. How dare she -

"I was so wrong about this, this miscomunication. Maybe I've interpreted it wrong. Maybe I didn't trust my intuition enough. I..I should have trust it but I'm afraid seeing you in sour expression and your cold atittude,  i'm afraid that i might only have one-side feeling. "

Yep. Definitely like the first confession, he mentally noted.

"Have you ever heard about don't judge a book by its cover? " Damian leaned on his desk as he close up to her. Seeing her red wine eyes sparkles against the light in his room. Her soft lavender color hair.  Her red ruby lip which he missed so much.

"Yeah, i know. But still,  who am I to you?" as she dared to look into his shamrock green eyes. Hoping to find the answers.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that, Miss Roth." Damian still exhibit his seriousness.  Raven hold up her emotion because something inside her like about to burst open and hell, she felt like she wants to give that jerk a thousand kiss on his face.

"But..."

"Uh?" Raven jumped a bit as Damian held his hand to her.

"You're an empath, right? I want you to feel it." She could feel heavy emotion behind his gaze. Slowly she reached out her hand towards him.

Damian,  grab her hand and begun to exhaled.

Raven were drowning.

Drowning with his emotion. Those heavy burden, sadness, bitter and anger hit her like  waterfall! After the intense wave, she suddenly felt butterfly in her stomach. This is so warm. This center feeling.

It feels like she wraping herself in a blanket on the cold night,  comforting and safe.

When she open her eyes she saw his vulnerable expression. She never seen him in that face before. A longing.

Then, she realise the scar that marked horizontally on his stomach. She touched it, unintentionally. "Home..."

"Home? " Damian almost lose out his emotion in his voice.

"Home is when you go there... " Raven remember the line.

"They have to take you in." Damian continue the quote from his favourite poet.

"This scars... I remember Hell, the titans, YOU. " as she squeeze out her memory.

"I was suppose to stay there,  to watch my father but why I'm... " Raven bit her lips. "Why? Why i'm here, Damian? I had to seal the dimension so that they could not harm the other dimension. " her tears start to blooming. "That is not your home. You deserve more than that hellish place, Raven. " Damian took his courage as he caressed her cheek, wiped out the tears.

"You doesn't seem content with the place. That is not your home. " both of his hand now on both of her cheek while he gaze into her eyes.

"Sometimes Home has a heartbeat, two arms and a soul. " he smiled. "It doesn't have to be a place. " he added.

"I... I.. " Raven getting choked up.

Tears start to rolled on her cheeks and without any hesitate,  Damian give her a kiss. Long and still.

She felt everything connected,  her memories, his emotion. Eureka!

Things in his room starts to float like its in zero gravity due to the intense emotion she felt. The bliss that makes her wants to reach for the stars.

Both of them withdrawn each other and placing their forehead together, savouring it. "I remember. " she whispers and yet she still cried.

Damian chuckled as he tug her hair behind her ears. He looked at her beneath his long lashes which made her heart fluttered.

"I am home with you. " she repeat her words during their depature from ruin of Azarath before their time travel goes wrong.

"All you need is a kiss to remember? " she can hear his giggle in his words. "A true love kiss. " as he peck her cheek.

"Since when Damian Wayne being cheesy romantic? " she teased him.

"Just come here. " as his arm wide open waiting for her. "I miss you. "

Raven scoffed then gloomped at the young man. "I'm home," she whisper as she bury her face at his collar,  inhaled his freshly after shower scent,  imprinting in her memory.

"Welcome back. " Damian wrap his arm on her body, it feels perfect. How he miss her so much! He give a kiss and landed his cheek on her hair.

Bonus:

[upontheshelfreviews]

Last year I talked about Fantasia, which is not just one of my favorite Disney movies, but one of my favorite movies in general. And if I may be self-indulgent for a moment, it’s also one of the reviews that I’m the proudest of. Fantasia is a visual, emotional masterpiece that marries music and art in a manner few cinematic ventures have come close to replicating. One question that remains is what my thoughts on the long-gestated sequel is –

…you might wanna get yourselves some snacks first.

As anyone who read my review on the previous film knows, Fantasia was a project ahead of its time. Critics and audiences turned their noses up at it for conflicting reasons, and the film didn’t even make it’s budget back until twenty-something years later when they began marketing it to a very different crowd.

“I don’t wanna alarm you dude, but I took in some Fantasia and these mushrooms started dancing, and then there were dinosaurs everywhere and then they all died, but then these demons were flying around my head and I was like WOOOOOAAAHHH!!”

“Yeah, Fantasia is one crazy movie, man.”

“Movie?”

Fantasia’s unfortunate box office failure put the kibosh on Walt Disney’s plans to make it a recurring series with new animated shorts made to play alongside handpicked favorites. The closest he came to following through on his vision was Make Mine Music and Melody Time, package features of shorts that drew from modern music more than classical pieces.

Fast-forward nearly fifty years later to the golden age known as the Disney Renaissance: Walt’s nephew Roy E. Disney surveys the new crop of animators, storytellers, and artists who are creating hit after hit and have brought the studio back to his uncle’s glory days, and thinks to himself, “Maybe now we can make Uncle Walt’s dream come true.” He made a good case for it, but not everyone was on board. Jeffrey Katzenberg loathed the idea, partly because he felt the original Fantasia was a tough act to follow (not an entirely unreasonable doubt) but most likely due to the fact that the last time Disney made a sequel, The Rescuers Down Under, it drastically underperformed (even though the reasons for that are entirely Katzenberg’s fault. Seriously, watch Waking Sleeping Beauty and tell me you don’t want to punch him in the nose when Mike Gabriel recalls his opening weekend phone call).

Once Katzenberg was out of the picture, though, Fantasia 2000, then saddled with the less dated but duller moniker Fantasia Continued, got the go-ahead. Many of the sequences were made simultaneously as the animated features my generation most fondly remembers, others were created to be standalone shorts before they were brought into the fold. Since it was ready in time for the new millennium, it not only got a name change but a massive marketing campaign around the fact that it would be played on IMAX screens for a limited run, the very first Disney feature to do so. As a young Fantasia fan who had never been to one of those enormous theaters before, I begged and pleaded my parents to take me. Late that January, we traveled over to the IMAX theater at Lincoln Center, the only one nearest to us since they weren’t so widespread as they are now, and what an experience it was. I can still recall the feeling of awe at the climax of Pines of Rome, whispering eagerly with my mom at how the beginning of Rhapsody in Blue looked like a giant Etch-A-Sketch, and jumping twenty feet in the air when the Firebird’s massive eyes popped open. But did later viewings recapture that magic, or did that first time merely color my perception?

We open on snippets from the original Fantasia…IN SPAAAAAAAAACE!

It reminds me a little of the opening to Simply Mad About The Mouse, where bits of classic Disney nostalgia fly about to evoke the mood of this upcoming musical venture. In a clever conceit, snippets of Deems Taylor’s original opening narration explaining Fantasia’s intent and music types plays over the orchestra and animators materializing and gearing up for the first sequence, which jumps right into –

DUN DUN DUN DUUUUUUN – I mean, Symphony #5 – Ludwig Van Beethoven

Here, a bunch of butterflies flee and then fight off swarms of bats with the power of light – I can’t be the only one who saw these things and thought it was butterflies vs. bats, right?

It does look cool with its waterfalls and splashes of light and color bursting through the clouds, but this brings me to a bit of contention I have with the movie.

When I planned this review I was going to do a new version of “Things Fantasia Fans Are Sick of Hearing”, except there were only four major complaints I could think of that. On further introspection, I admit they are legitimate grievances worth addressing. I’m going to get them out of the way all at once in order to keep things rolling.

#1 – This Seems Familiar…

Certain sequences are noticeably derivative from the first movie. It’s as if they were afraid of trying too many new things that would alienate audiences so they borrowed from their predecessor in an effort to say “Hey, we can do this too!” Symphony #5 is clearly trying to be Tocatta and Fugue with its abstract geometric shapes swooping all over to kick things off. Though I love how much character the animators managed to give two pairs of triangles, Tocatta’s soaring subconscious flights of fancy leaves me more enthralled. Carnival of the Animals literally began as a sequel to Dance of the Hours until the ostriches became flamingoes. And Roy E. Disney openly stated he wanted the last sequence, The Firebird Suite to have the same death and rebirth theme as Night on Bald Mountain/Ave Maria, which they got, right down to a terrifying symbol of destruction emerging from a mountain to wreak chaos.

‘Sup, witches?

#2 – Too Short

Speaking of repeating the past, the original idea for Fantasia 2000 was to follow Walt’s vision in that three favorite segments would make a return amongst the newer ones – the Nutcracker Suite, which was eventually cut for time, Dance of the Hours, which I’ve already stated morphed into Carnival of the Animals, and finally, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, the obvious choice to keep since that’s the most popular piece out of any of them. Cutting things for time doesn’t make that much sense, however, when you realize that Fantasia 2000’s runtime is only 75 minutes. A very short animated film by today’s standards that lasts barely half as long as its previous installment. I don’t see why they couldn’t keep at least one other sequence from the first Fantasia to make things last a little longer and keep in the original idea’s spirit.

#3 – All Story, No Experimentation

Unlike the first Fantasia, all of the sequences have a linear narrative structure that’s easy to follow. Not a bad thing and kudos to you if you’re among that group who prefers Fantasia 2000 for because of that, but again, I admire how the original film didn’t stick to a coherent story the whole time; how it was unafraid to let the music, atmosphere, and visuals speak for itself without sticking to a three-act plot and designated protagonist for every piece.

#4 – The One You’ve Been Waiting For, The Host Segments

One of the things that turned Fantasia off for its detractors was Deems Taylor’s seemingly dry narration. But maybe Fantasia 2000 can fix that with some folks who are hip and with it, perhaps a wild and crazy guy or two…

Eh, he’ll do.

Now, the idea of varying segment hosts isn’t an altogether bad idea. Most of them work well: Angela Lansbury gives the lead-in to the Firebird Suite plenty of gravitas befitting the finale, as do Ithzak Perlman, Quincy Jones, and James Earl Jones, who build plenty of intrigue for Pines of Rome, Rhapsody in Blue and Carnival of the Animals respectively; this seriousness makes James’ reaction to what the Carnival segment is really about a successful comic subversion. Even Penn and Teller for all their obnoxiousness kind of works with The Sorcerer’s Apprentice due to the linking magic theme.

I suppose what turns people off is the self-congratulatory tone and seemingly forced attempts at comedy you get from Martin, Penn, Teller, and Bette Midler. But you know what? They still make me laugh after all these years (well, you have to laugh at Bette Midler’s antics or she’ll come after you when the Black Flame Candle is lit). In fact, I have to hand it to Midler’s intro in particular. Fantasia 2000 came out right around the time I began taking a keen interest in what animation really was and how it was made. For me, her preceding The Steadfast Tin Soldier piece with tidbits about Fantasia segments that didn’t make it past the drawing board was like the first free hit that turned me into an animation junkie (plus this was before you could look up anything on the topic in extraneous detail on the internet, so it had that going for it). If I have to nitpick, though, The Divine Miss M referring to Salvador Dalí as “the melting watches guy” is a bit reductive. That’d be like calling Babe Ruth “the baseball guy” or Walt Disney “the mouse and castle guy”. Plus, Dalí and Disney were close compadres with a layered history. They planned on many collaborations, though the fruit of their labors, Destino, would not be completed in either of their lifetimes. Couldn’t show just a modicum of respect there, Bette?

Ahhh! I take it back! Don’t steal my soul!

So, I wouldn’t say I hate or even completely dislike the host segments. Sorry to disappoint everyone who was hoping for me to rip into them. They’re not awful, just uneven. And if you think they ruin the movie for me, you’ve got another think coming.

Pines of Rome – Ottorino Respighi

The idea for Pines of Rome’s visuals came about due to an unusual detail in some concept art. Someone noticed that a particular cloud in a painting of the night sky heavily resembled a flying whale. So why make a short about flying whales? The better question would be why NOT make a short about flying whales? A supernova in the night sky miraculously gives some whales the ability to swim through the air over the icy seas. Again, seeing this in IMAX was incredible. There’s just one minor issue I have with. This and another segment were developed well before Pixar made its silver screen debut, and unfortunately, it shows twenty years later; the worst cases are the close-ups.

Okay, who put googly eyes on the moldy beanbag?

There are ways of blending CGI and hand-drawn animation well, and this isn’t one of them. I understand the necessity of having expressive eyes but simply dropping one on top of a CGI creature gives it a bit of an uncanny valley feel. They should have either stuck with traditional all the way or made the whales entirely CG. The CG animation of the whales themselves isn’t too shabby, so they could have pulled it off.

Because simply giving whales flight apparently isn’t enough to hold an audience’s interest, we have an adorable baby whale earning his wings, so to speak. Once he gets his bearings above the surface, he swoops ahead of his family and bothers a flock of seagulls. They chase him into a collapsing iceberg, leaving him trapped, alone and unable to fly. The quiet dip in the music combined with the image of this lost little calf adds some genuine emotional weight to this piece. The baby navigates the iceberg’s claustrophobic caverns until he finds a crevice that elevates him back to his worried parents. From there a whole pod of whales rises out of the ocean to join them as they fly upwards to the supernova’s source.

“So long, and thanks for all the krill!”

As the music reaches its brilliant crescendo, the whales plow through storm clouds until they reach the top of the world and breach through the stars like water. It’s an awe-inspiring climax of a short that, flaws and all, reminds you of what Fantasia is all about.

Majestic.

Rhapsody in Blue – George Gershwin

The music of jazz composer George Gershwin? Timeless. The art of renowned caricaturist Al Hirschfeld? Perfection. All this brought to life with the best animation Disney has to offer? It’s a match made in heaven. Eric Goldberg, who animated the Genie among other comedic characters, idolized Hirschfeld and drew plenty of inspiration from drawings, so getting to work alongside him while making this was nothing short of a dream come true. That attention to detail in rendering Hirschfeld’s trademark curvy two-dimensional style goes beyond mere homage. It is a love letter to a great artist that encapsulates everything about him and his craft, and to a great city that we both had the honor of calling home. The story goes that Goldberg screened the final product for Hirschfeld shortly before his 96th birthday and his wife told him after that it was the best gift he could have ever received.

All this to say I am quite fond of this particular short, thank you very much.

The piece follows four characters navigating 1930’s Manhattan and crossing paths over the course of a single day:

Duke, a construction worker torn between his steady, monotonous job and following his dream of drumming in a jazz band,

Joe, a victim of the Great Depression desperately looking for work,

Rachel, a little girl who wants to spend time with her parents but is forced to attend lesson after lesson by her strict governess,

and “Flying” John, a henpecked husband longing to be free from his overbearing wife –

And her little dog too!

By the way, John is modeled in name and in looks after Disney animation historian John Culhane, who also was the inspiration for The Rescuers’ Mr. Snoops, hence why the two look so similar. He’s not the only name who appears in this sequence: Gershwin himself makes a surprise cameo as he takes over Rachel’s piano solo halfway through the story.

Speaking of, my family used to compare me to Rachel because at that point in my young life I was doing or already did the same mandatory activities as she – swimming, ballet, music, sports, all with the same amount of speed and varying degrees of success.

No one can argue that art is where we both excelled, however.

The physical timing of Rhapsody in Blue’s animation is hilarious, though it doesn’t rely wholly on slapstick for its humor. The sight gags and clever character dynamics all weaved into the music milk plenty of laughs, and envelop you in this living, breathing island that is Manhattan.

I speak from experience, this is the most accurate depiction of commuting on the 1 train that there ever was.

Even with such a premise and two masters of combining comedy and art, there is still enough pathos to keep the story rooted. Take when all four characters are at their lowest point. They look down on some skaters in Rockefeller Center and picture themselves in their place fulfilling their deepest desires. Seeing their dreams so close in their minds and yet so far away while paired with the most stirring part of the score is heartwrenching.

In the end, things pick up as the characters unwittingly solve each other’s problems. Duke quits the construction site, leaving an opening for Joe to fill. Joe accidentally snags John’s wife on a hook and hauls her screaming into the air, allowing him one night of uninhibited fun at the club where Duke performs.

“Anyone hear something? Nah, it’s probably just me.”

Rachel loses her ball while fighting with her nanny, which Duke bounces off the window of her parents’ office, which in turn gets them to notice their daughter about to run into traffic and they save her. Everyone gets their happy ending and it ends on a spectacularly glamorous shot of Time Square lit up in all its frenetic neon glory.

And not a single knockoff costumed character hitting up tourists for photos. Those were the days, my friend.

If you haven’t guessed by now, I adore Rhapsody in Blue. It’s easily my favorite part of the movie; a blissful ménage-a-trois of art style, music and storytelling, and it’s so New York that the only New York things I could think of that are missing are Central Park and amazing bagels. This sequence is gut-busting, energized, emotional, and mesmerizing in its form. I don’t often say I love a piece of animation so much that I’d marry it, but when I do, it’s often directed at Rhapsody in Blue.

  Piano Concerto #2 – Dmitri Shostakovich (aka The One With The Steadfast Tin Soldier)

This piece has an interesting history attached to it. Disney wanted to do an animated film surrounding Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales – including The Little Mermaid and The Steadfast Tin Soldier – as far back as the 30’s, but the project fell by the wayside. During Fantasia 2000’s production, Roy E. Disney asked if they could do something with Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto #2 since he and his daughter were attached to that piece. He looked over sketches and storyboards made for the unrealized Tin Soldier sequence and discovered the music matched in perfect time with the story.

This is the second sequence that features CGI at the forefront. Unlike Pines of Rome, though, it works because the main characters are toys, and you can get away with your early CGI looking shiny and metallic and plastic-like when you’re animating toys.

Hell, it worked for Pixar.

The story centers on a tin soldier cast with only one leg who is shunned by his comrades for routinely throwing off their groove. He falls in love with a porcelain ballerina when he mistakes her standing en pointe as her also missing a limb. Despite his embarrassment when he learns the truth, the ballerina is enamored with him as well. This rouses the jealousy of an evil jack-in-the-box who I swear is a caricature of Jeffrey Katzenberg minus the glasses but with a goatee and Lord Farquaad wig.

“MUST. CHOP. EVERYTHING!!!”

The jack-in-the-box and the soldier duke it out for a bit before the former sends the latter flying out the window in a little wooden boat. The boat floats the soldier into the sewers and attracts a horde of angry rats who attack him, because animated rodents seem to have a natural hatred towards toy soldiers.

Case in point.

The soldier hurtles into the sea where he’s eaten by a fish – which is caught the following morning, packed up to be sold at market, bought by the cook who works at the very house he came from, and he falls out of the fish’s mouth on the floor where his owner finds him and places him back with the rest of the toys. Now the story this is based on hints that the jack-in-the-box is really a goblin who orchestrates the soldier’s misfortunes with his malicious magic. But based the extremely coincidental circumstances of his return home, I’d say the soldier’s the one who’s got some reality-warping tricks up his sleeve.

The soldier and jack-in-the-box duel again that evening, but this time the harlequin harasser falls into the fireplace and burns up. Our hero gets the girl and lives happily ever after. A nice conclusion, though a far cry from what happened in the original tale: the ballerina is knocked into the fire, the soldier jumps in after her, and all that remains of them by morning is some melted tin in the shape of a heart. I gotta say, for all my love of classic fairytales, Disney made the right call. Andersen’s life was far from magical and it reflected in his stories, making many of them depressing for no good reason. The triumphant note the music ends on also would have clashed horribly if they stuck with the original. Even the Queen of Denmark agreed with Disney’s decision to soften their adaptations of Andersen’s work. I don’t know if I’d call The Steadfast Tin Soldier one of my very favorite parts of Fantasia 2000, but in the end, s’all right.

  Carnival of the Animals: Finale – Camille Sant-Saëns

This shortest of shorts (clocking in at less than two minutes) kicks off with James Earl Jones asking with as much seriousness as he can muster from the situation, what would happen if you gave a yo-yo to a flock of flamingos?

The answer –

Good answer!

Fie on those who dismiss this part as a silly one-off that doesn’t belong here. Fie, I say! It’s a pure delight full of fun expressions and fluid fast-paced action. Once again we have my man Eric Goldberg to thank for this, though this time he animated it entirely by himself. I’d call it a one-man show except for the fact that his wife Susan handpainted the entire thing with watercolor, making it look like it sprung to life straight from a paintbrush. It’s a simple diversion about a flamingo who wants to play with his yo-yo while the other snooty members of his flock try to force him to conform. As you can see from the still, they fail quite epically. Nothing beats the power of nonconformity and yo-yos (also every yo-yo move featured here is authentic; I love when animators go that extra mile).

  The Sorcerer’s Apprentice plays next, but since I already touched on that in the first Fantasia review, I’m skipping over it. The segment ends with Mickey congratulating Leopold Stokowski (again), then crossing the barriers of time and space to inform the conductor, James Levine, that he needs to track down the star of the next segment, Donald Duck. Levine stalls by explaining a bit about what’s to come while Mickey frantically searches for his errant costar. The surround sound sells the notion of him moving around the back of the theater accidentally causing mischief all the while. Thankfully, Donald is found and the sequence commences.

Pomp and Circumstance – Edward Elgar

This famous piece of music was included at the insistence of Michael Eisner after he attended his son’s graduation ceremony. He wanted to feature a song that everyone was already familiar with. Of course, since this was after Frank Well’s untimely passing and no one was bold enough to temper Eisner’s worst instincts with common sense, his original pitch had every animated couple Disney created up to that point marching on to Noah’s Ark – and then marching out with their babies.

Okay, A: Unless you’re doing a groin hit joke or are Ralph Bakshi or R. Crum, cartoon characters don’t have junk as a rule. And B, one of the unwritten rules of Disney animation is that barring kids that already exist like the titular 101 Dalmatians or Duchess’ kittens, the established canon couples do not in any official capacity have children.

To which Eisner laughed maniacally and vowed that they would.

But in order to placate Eisner’s desire to turn every branch of the Disney corporation into a commercial for itself, the animators compromised and agreed to do Pomp and Circumstance with the Noah’s Ark theme, BUT with only one couple – Donald and Daisy Duck. In this retelling of the biblical tale, Donald acts as Noah’s beleaguered assistant (I guess Shem, Ham, and Japheth were too busy rounding up the endangered species). Daisy provides emotional support while preparing to move on to the ark as well. It’s refreshing to see these two not losing their temper at each other for a change. I wish we got to see this side of their relationship more often. Donald returns Daisy’s easily lost plot device locket to her and as the rain rain rain comes down down down, he starts directing the animals on board; the lions, the tigers, the bears, the…ducks?

Anyway, all the animals and Donald get on board – well, most of them do.

The world’s first climate change deniers.

Donald realizes Daisy hasn’t arrived yet and runs out to look for her, unaware that she’s already boarded. Daisy sees Donald leaving but is too late to stop him before the first floodwaters hit their home. Donald made it back to the ark in time, however, though both of them believe that the other is forever lost to them. I find it astounding that they never run into each other not even once during the forty days and forty nights they’re cooped up on that boat. It’s the American Tail cliche all over again, and well, at least it’s happening in a short and not the entire movie.

Soon the ark lands atop Mount Ararat and the animals depart in greater numbers than when they embarked on their singles cruise. Daisy realizes halfway down the mountain that she’s lost her locket again, which Donald finds at that very moment while sweeping up, and the two are joyously reunited.

“I thought you were dead!” “I thought YOU were dead!”

I kid around, but I truly enjoy this short a lot. There’s so much warmth to Donald and Daisy’s relationship that makes their reunion at the end all the sweeter, and there’s plenty of great slapstick to offset the drama in the meantime. I will admit it’s nice to hear there’s more to Pomp And Circumstance than just the famous march, and the entire suite matches flawlessly with the visuals, though the main theme itself is so ingrained into the public consciousness that it’s difficult to extricate it from that what we’ve seen accompany it countless times.

Come on, you all know what I’m talking about.

“What? Don’t tell me YOU don’t think of heads exploding like fireworks when you hear Pomp and Circumstance! Name one other life-changing moment could you possibly associate it with…you weirdo.”

The Firebird Suite – Igor Stravinsky

Fantasia 2000 comes to a close with a piece that has some emotional resonance if you know your history. You might remember from my first Fantasia review that Igor Stravinsky was disappointed with how Rite of Spring turned out, especially since he was a big admirer of Walt Disney and really wanted to do more projects with him beforehand. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that they picked his premiere ballet to end the movie on decades later. After all these years, Disney worked hard to do right by Stravinsky – with a few twists, though. Instead of a balletic retelling of Russian folktales involving kidnapped princesses and immortal sorcerers, we have a fantastical allegory for the circle of life.

No, not that circle of life.

A lone elk who I’m fairly convinced is the Great Prince of the Forest walks through the forest in the dead of winter. With his breath, he awakens the spirit of the woods and one of the most beautiful characters Disney has ever created, the Spring Sprite.

I. Love. This character. Her design is gorgeous, shifting from a shimmery opalescent blue as she steps out of the water into an eternally flowing fount of live greenery spreading from her hair in her wake. Wherever she moves, grass, flowers, and trees blossom, fulfilling the idea of a springtime goddess more than Disney’s own Goddess of Spring ever did. The Sprite was a massive influence in developing my art style, particularly in her face and expressive eyes, and I used to draw her a lot. Visit any relative of mine and chances are you’ll find a picture of her by me hanging up on a wall somewhere in their house. Yet there’s far more to her character than just a pretty representation of nature; there’s plenty of curiosity, spunk, determination, and a drive for creativity. I love her frustrated expression when she’s dissatisfied with the tiny flower she sculpts out of the ground and how her face lights up when she morphs it into a buttercup as tall as she is.

The Sprite paints the forest with all the colors of the wind (mostly green) until she reaches a mountain that isn’t affected by her magic. Perplexed, she climbs it until she finds a large hunched over rock figure – or is it an egg? – standing inside. She reaches out to touch it and…

The Sprite has awakened her counterpart, the wrathful and deadly Firebird. Think giant evil phoenix made of smoke, flame and lava. And it goes without saying that seeing this on the biggest screen left quite the terrifying impact. One of the biggest inspirations for this sequence was the eruption of Mount St. Helens (though the shot of the Sprite surveying the breadth of the Firebird’s destruction reminds me far too much of the Australian bushfires going on) and the sheer horror of nature’s irrepressible chaos is fully captured here. But the Firebird refuses to settle for merely destroying the Sprite’s handiwork, oh no. It won’t rest until creation itself is consumed, and the Sprite is reduced to a powerless mite as she scrabbles to escape the Firebird’s relentless pursuit of her. Try as she might, however, the towering monster corners and devours her in one fell swoop.

The forest is reduced to gray ashes in the wake of the Firebird’s rampage, but the Great Prince has survived. Once again he brings the Sprite to life with his breath, only this time she is tiny and weak (the animation of her slowly developing from the ash into her huddled ragged form is breathtaking). Now, I didn’t think I’d get emotional revisiting a small part of a single movie I’ve rewatched countless times before but viewing this through a mature eye combined with the beauty of the Firebird Suite’s climax and its timely message has caused me to see it in a new light:

The Sprite is utterly broken by what she’s been through and the destruction she carelessly caused. She’s lost all faith in herself and in the idea of returning the forest to what it once was. Even so, the Prince gently insists on carrying her on his antlers to the remains of their favorite cherry blossom tree. Where her tears fall, grass shoots begin to sprout. This fills the Sprite with hope, and she soars into the air becoming one with the sky and rains life down on the forest. New trees burst from the earth. The air is filled with leaves and pollen and new life flowing from her essence. The Sprite’s joy and power grow so strong that she even encircles the Firebird’s mountain in all her verdant glory. Life and creation overcome death and destruction. It’s not Night on Bald Mountain/Ave Maria, but it’s close.

And unfortunately, that’s the biggest problem Fantasia 2000 has.

While working on the original Fantasia, a storyman made the mistake of referring to the work they were doing in “the cartoon medium” in Walt’s presence. Walt turned on him and snapped “This is NOT ‘the cartoon medium’. It should not be limited to cartoons. We have worlds to conquer.”

And conquer they did…just not the way Walt intended.

The point I’m trying to make is Walt was breaking new ground and experimenting with things nobody ever tried when it came to Fantasia. While those risks were initially deemed a failure, it eventually gained the recognition it deserved from the animation and filmmaking community. Any attempt to recreate the magic of Fantasia is no small feat. But rather than taking new risks that not even the first film dared, the studio opted to adhere to Fantasia’s formula with pieces that recall if not flat out copy from the original segments. I hesitate to call it a pale imitation or cash grab however because this was done for the art much more than the money (though Eisner was probably hoping it would bring in some bank). There’s even a little bit of depth to it: while the first Fantasia had themes of differing natures in conflict – light vs. dark, fire vs. water, etc. – Fantasia 2000’s theme is accidental but brilliantly meta: CGI vs. traditional animation, a conflict Disney would become very familiar with in the decade following the film’s release. In some ways, it reminds me of Epcot’s genesis. The driving force behind it was long gone, but the attempt to bring it to life as close to the original vision as possible is still much appreciated.

For all my gripes, I really do enjoy Fantasia 2000. Perhaps not on the same level as its predecessor, but it has its moments, oh yes. And believe me, as far as Disney sequels go, you could do far, far, far worse than this one. Fantasia 2000 is Fantasia’s kid sister mimicking its beloved older sibling in an attempt to show it can be cool like the big kids too. But hey, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this review, please consider supporting this misfit on Patreon. Patreon supporters receive great perks such as extra votes for movie reviews, movie requests, early sneak-peeks and more! If I can hit my goal of $100 a month, I can go back to weekly tv series reviews. As of now, I’m only $20 away! Special thanks to Amelia Jones, Gordhan Rajani and Sam Minden for their contributions! I’ll see you in a few weeks when I and review the 1959 Disney animated classic, Sleeping Beauty!

Artwork by Charles Moss.

Screencaps from animationscreencaps.com

Yes, I know The Lion King and Lady and the Tramp ended with the titular characters having babies, but was there anyone out there apart from Eisner who demanded there be sequels to those films that focused on their offspring?

January Review: Fantasia 2000 Last year I talked about Fantasia, which is not just one of my favorite Disney movies, but one of my favorite movies in general.

[lunaraen]

random idea: Quinn and Durango finding out they both like puns, which inevitably leads to a pun war (and at least one person being very confused/annoyed by said pun war)

The grass is short and dry, nearly crisp enough to crunch undertheir feet. An occasional stray cloud and a few distant hawks are dottedthroughout the bleached out blue of the sky.

The birds don't circle, diving out of sight after severalminutes of effortless gliding.

The grass is as deadly still as the air, springing into motiononly when a mouse or rabbit decides to dart across the endless stretch ofground, from one patch of yellow greenery to another, waiting for cloud coverand cooler weather that won't come for several more hours.

It's not a desert or one of the outright dry grasslands, butit's on its way there.

(It is, unfortunately, the exact opposite of any mushroom biome,which are used to the apparent calm but also have the promise of life, of watersomewhere or everywhere, which don’t have rolling fields to worry about andinstead have murky bogs and swamps.

It goes without saying that Mo's feeling more than a littlehomesick.)

For the most part, though, even that much motion is rare, andthey've just got the dying promises of a breeze that'll never properly startand the relentless sunlight to entertain them.

It's a good thing Mo's cap protects them from so much shade,protects their eyes from directly having to deal with the onslaught of lightand heat, or they'd probably be feeling as energy-sapped as the others look.

(That might have something to do with how early they all got up,though.)

They don't have a map– they did,at one point, but Kate had lost it during an encounter with a river nymph.

(It's best left at that.

Kate's still not great at dealing with guilt, or any otheremotion, and she gets horribly flustered every time it comes up.)

It works out alright anyway, because they've all done their bitof hero work for the week, came out of the entire mess more or less as theyentered, and they're not travelling with a specific purpose at the moment. Astired as they might all feel and look, they have all the supplies they need.There's no doubt in anyone's mind that they're setting up camp early today, theweather nice enough and their goals the right amount of vague and aimless tojustify a break to soak it all in and relax.

All they're waiting for is the right area, somewhere slightlymore protected than the rolling stretches of barren plains.

They've been able to see the distant forest for hours, linkedbranches and towering trunks promising shade as well as a few monsters to maybeknock around, creeping more and more into view the longer they travel, andthey're lucky that they reach it before the sun hits its peak.

Still, it's more luck than most of them are used to, and Quinn'sthe one who goes in first, sword raised and Theseus and Durango following closebehind.

Then they're almost immediately telling the others to followthem, because they have to see this.

And they do.

It's wonderfully shaded, for one thing, and Mo's eyes adjust thefastest. They're glad they do.

Their planned camping ground isn't the usual forest, and it's arare moment when encountering the strange and unusual benefits them. The treesmore or less create a comfortable but large ring around a clearing filled withpatches of different flowers and bees buzzing overhead. There's a slow river,too shallow for fish but a good explanation for how lush the grass is, greenestright at its banks and competing with the most colorful flowers.

"You've seen one flower forest, you've seen them all."Kate's comment is nonchalant, almost bored as she shrugs, but it doesn't hidehow wide her eyes are, sunglasses having slipped slightly down her nose.

And of all of them, she and Zed are the only one who've everseen one. Most of them had been to and seen other biomes, if only briefly,before being plucked from their homes, but not one as rare as this. Theseus,who spent most of his life on islands without a single flower forest, looks nearlyready to throw down his pack right now and start sketching every detail.

Mo's eyes, however, are right back on the others, watching andwaiting because there's some kind of tension here and they know it.

 --

River and Toby are equals in how utterly trapped they feel bythe crushing sense of incoming doom.

The pause to take the view in– this vibrant mix of greenery andcolorful petals hovered over by idling fuzzballs and cut through by thesluggish winding stream– lasts only long enough for one of River's fingers totwitch while Toby winces.

When Durango opens his mouth, it's too late to retreat.

"Well, it looks bee-utiful enough."

Quinn bounces back fastest, replying almost immediately andgrinning as she does.

"If you say so– I don't get what all the buzz isabout."

The others groan, as is expected when it comes to poor jokes andwordplay, but they don't get it. They don't comprehend what horribly bad newsthis is. Not yet.

(In all their talking on the pillars to pass the time, it hadn'tcome up that Durango, cocky as he already normally is, could be insufferablyproud of his puns, or that Quinn has a seeming inability to not share the onesthat pop into her head at random, which are of course all terrible. Durango'sweren't, and aren't, any better. Quinn and Durango, in all their time workingwith Kate and Zed and all their time talking and bickering with each other, hadlikewise somehow missed bringing it up or displaying their natural, painfultalents.)

Toby and River glance at each other.

It's a look of immediate kinship, of "ah, yes, you– youknow the hell I've been through, you have suffered as I have." But theycan't escape the recognition that comes with it, the knowledge that theirtormentors have not only joined forces, but that they have found kinship ineach other as well and in their shared form of torture.

Not only are Durango and Quinn going to keep making puns,they're going to make more now.

The look River and Toby share is, at its core, one of pureterror, tinged with rising horror and built upon the stable ground ofwell-established exasperation. It's one that screams to the heavens, shriekingin a hopeless plea, begging for mercy that will never be granted. It's a lookthat clearly embodies the very spirit of "no".

Quinn and Durango, however, share their own glance, one alreadyitching with the need to compete, to conspire as well as utterly obliterateeach other. Their look replies, loudly, clearly, and gleefully, with no roomfor any argument, "yes".

--

"I always figured Quinn would be, y'know, too cool for badjokes. They don't seem her style." River traces the petal of aparticularly large red flower, touch as light as she can manage. Beside her,Toby tosses another pebble into the stream, and she does her best to not flinch at the splash or the water that hits her arm.

"And I'd hoped Durango would be too worried about hurtinghis 'tough cowboy' image."

"Guess we were both unlucky." River leans back,resting one hand on the grass as she glances over her shoulder at where Durangoand Quinn are still at it. "D'you think they hate us?"

"Not half as much as I hate them."

"They– they've gotta tire themselves out at some point,right?" Everyone else is busy relaxing, or napping, or exploring theclearing and watching the bees without getting too close, having given upwaiting. Slugger's on watch in case anyone screws up and manages to anger theswarm, and Mo's slouched beside her, mushroom covering their eyes but not theirsteady breathing. River's ready for a nap herself at this point, and the darkcircles under their punny tormentors' eyes are hard to miss. "Don't they?"

"Nope." Toby lays back on the grass, one foot in thewater and his eyes half lidded. He looks as tired as she feels, though there'san exaggerated bitterness she can agree with too. "They just have tooutlive the rest of us long enough."

They wait there, for a while, not saying anything and doingtheir best to not wince with every bad pun (and there are so many and they are somehow gettingworse), until Quinn makes an especially bad one about honey. Toby almostjerkily stands up, taking his foot out of the water like it's burned him, andstarts walking, half hopping as he shoves his sock and shoe back on.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to the Greek Isles– the kraken eating me would beless painful than this."

"...I think I might just join you." River stretchesher arms to the side as she stands, pushing herself up even as the rest of herbody demands she stay down and keep watching the bees. "Want to getstarted on dinner?"

Technically it should be lunch, but they've all been up sincebefore the sun rose and they had something close to two meals already, andhunger is hunger. They'll make food and they'll enjoy it, no matter what itshould or shouldn't technically be called.

"I don't see why not. It'll serve them right if they missout because they're too busy being totaldorks."

His voice gets loudest at the end, glaring over his shoulder atDurango and Quinn to make sure they know exactly who he's talking about.

Durango doesn't bother responding to it in any way, too busymaking rapid-fire puns, and Quinn's gaze doesn't shift even as she makes an...interesting hand gesture in Toby's general direction– he just laughs, rollshis eyes, and keeps walking.

It's not the same team relationship she and Durango had, or eventhe same friendship they've got now, but River's glad Quinn and Toby aren'tserious with their bickering.

The supplies are hastily scattered, anything not currently beingused as a pillow left in a bit of a disheveled circle of their own, but it'seasy enough to get the cauldron set up and to start sifting through theingredients they have. In the meantime, they keep chatting, with each other andquietly with Theseus.

(It was, it turns out, a lie to say that everyone had given upwaiting.

While Rudi and Sacha are, like almost everyone, sleeping, they'veapparently set up a betting pool for who'll win the pun war. Rudi's personallyin Durango's camp while Sacha's own vote is for Quinn, but Theseus doesn'tmention what anyone else has bet.)

"...personally, I don't really think there's a way to win or lose,especially not with those two." He looks almost forlorn as he keepssketching, using his knees to support the journal and keep it upright."I'd join them, but most of the puns I know probably aren't funny topeople who aren't from the Greek Isles. Too much focus on legendary monsters orthe Gods."

"Believe me, we're glad. It's bad enough with just the twoof them."

Theseus lights up and River bites her tongue, knowing why andknowing it’s too late to try and save the situation.

"That one wasn't half bad!"

Toby's brow furrows for half a moment and relaxes just asbriefly, eyes narrowing as he frowns.

'Bee-lieve'.

"I'm going to drown myself in the river."

"Nah, come on." River grabs Toby's shoulder as hebegins to turn and gently tugs him back, giggling. He's pouting, but he doesn'ttry to get up again. "I still need your help with cooking."

"Anyone else could help."

"Yeah, but this way we can keep each other busy, make somenice stew for when everybody's awake, and I can make sure you don't go and tryto kill 'em." She passes him a few potatoes, eyeing the oddly shapedcarrot at the bottom of the pile.

"You make it sound so nice."

"...I'm glad they're enjoying themselves. I mean, I hopethey'll stop soon or that this'll keep them from making more puns later, but I'mnot expecting it and that's not the point. They're having a good time. Nomonsters, nobody to save, nothin' to run from, no squabbling... just themgoofing off."

"...I'm glad too." Toby unwraps one of their bundledknives, blade slicing through the bumpy and ruddy potato skin. "I stillwant to throw myself in the stream. I reallywant to throw Quinn in the stream, but there's no way I can do that."

She'd just yank his arm and flip him backwards. 

River tries not to laugh or chuckle, but Toby's pout lets her knowshe's failing; she doubts he can really blame her, not when the mental image isso funny.

She pats his shoulder before she starts cutting the carrot intomore typical carrot slice shapes, dropping them one by one into the pot. Funnyor not, she can understand where he’s coming from, helped as it all might be bythe exhaustion settling in all their bones and the hunger beginning to gnaw atthe back of their minds.

"If you figure out a way, let me know. I'll have to try itwith Durango."

Toby's eyebrow quirks as his gaze turns calculating, the shrewdlook not quite completed by the small smile he can't hide.

"Is that a mean streak?"

"It's a fed-up-with-puns streak." Still, River'sfingers fiddle with the inedible top of the carrot for several moments beforeshe sets it and the knife aside, hands clasped in her lap as she glances away."You're right, I wouldn't do it. Not really. I'd worry too much abouthurting him, but I don't think I ever could."

River waits, for a moment, waits to see if he’ll joke about her beingtoo gentle or too much of a worrywart, but if Toby thinks about it, he doesn’tshow it.

"...I don't want to hurt Quinn either, and the river's tooshallow to really throw anybody into it." Toby tosses his now-peeled andchopped potato into the cauldron before starting the process again, barelyavoiding nicking one of his fingers as he does. "We'll just go and splashthem after we're done cooking."

The mat Theseus is sitting on shifts on the grass as hestretches, pencil still gripped in one hand as he grins at them, dipping backinto the conversation as quickly as he'd left it.

"That sounds like fun. Just– please try to leave my artout of it."

River and Toby share another glance, this one far lessexasperated or terrified, and River's excitement wins first.

"You could help!"

Theseus tilts his head, closing his journal as he does.

"I'm still the son of somebody who was seen as the god of the ocean and I spent most of my life completelysurrounded by water. Seems a little unfair, don't you think?"

Another sliced up potato gets tossed into the pot as Tobysnorts.

"It's hardly the sea." The river is long, likelystretching out of the forest and across many empty plains like the ones theyhad to cross, but it isn't terrifyingly deep like the ocean, dark blue with thepromise of untold horrors, and it's hardly as vast, only wide enough for aperson to lie in. (Even a person who can’t swim can stand comfortably in thestream, content in knowing the water's too gentle to be any trouble if they fall.)

Theseus hums and tilts his head again, but his smile isn'tenough of an answer. River pushes the subject again, gently.

"You don't have to, but we'd sure enjoy it if youwould."

Theseus's smile grows, and she realizes his smile was an answer. He wasn't consideringsaying yes; he was putting his strategizing to good use and was working out hisbattle plan. Theseus might not be the leader of their group, but he's awonderful fighter and an excellent tactician.

"Alright, we'll have them outnumbered."

There’s no doubt in her mind that the others will join in– and alittle horsing around before dinner sounds perfect.

[legosaurus]

Looking Back on 20 Years of Lego Star Wars

Twenty years ago, on the eve of Star Wars: The Phantom Menace — the start of an all-new Star Wars trilogy chronicling the fall of the Jedi and the rise of the Empire — two worlds collided. Lucasfilm’s licensing division sought a whole new universe of colorful merchandise to delight fans and drum up excitement for Episode I, and there was one toymaker that presented an especially awesome opportunity: the Lego Group. The multi-colored bricks, minifigures, and playsets of Lego Group’s unique world were, after all, an entire galaxy of their own. Here was a brand that empowered children to create and tell stories on a canvas that combined the act of building with the raw power of imagination.

Now, two decades later, Lego Star Wars is one of the most recognizable toy lines to ever exist. There have been full-length films and TV series featuring Star Wars characters in Lego form; there’s an entire video-game franchise based on the partnership; there have been Lego kits depicting events from nearly every canonical Star Wars movie and show to date. Several models and playsets were recently released to celebrate the 20th anniversary of Lego Star Wars.

To mark the occasion, StarWars.com spoke with Design Director Jens Kronvold Frederiksen, who’s been a part of the legendary collaboration since 1998.

Check out the full interview below. 

StarWars.com: Looking back, what can you recall about the very beginning of the partnership?

Jens Kronvold Frederiksen: When I started at LEGO in 1998, one of the first things that I saw were some draft models of LEGO Star Wars. And I have to say, I was totally surprised, and very, very curious what that was about. There wasn’t a contract yet, but it was in negotiations. So, obviously, all the designers at LEGO were working on sketch models to see what this could look like from a product point of view.

StarWars.com: Did things start with the sets for The Phantom Menace, or were you focused on doing the X-wing and such at first?

Jens Kronvold Frederiksen: It was before The Phantom Menace, and that was a big part of it. It was really good timing. From the beginning, the intention was that LEGO would launch products related to that new movie. And there were several other models that we launched around the same time — the X-wing and so on — that kind of just had to be made. At the time, it was a bit of a controversial thing at LEGO, because of having a new product line with “wars” in the title; we hadn’t been making anything related to war. Models had to be either realistic, very historic, or fantasy, so it was still controversial when it came up. When the first sets were made, we didn’t even make implements for the blasters. It was just a megaphone turned backwards, with a colored stud on the end.

StarWars.com: These days, we’re seeing things like The LEGO Batman Movie and The LEGO Movie 2, which sort of owe their existence to those late-’90s Phantom Menace sets. When you first saw LEGO getting involved in the licensing world, what were your hopes for the idea?

Jens Kronvold Frederiksen: Like many other people, for me it was a dream come true. Because two of my favorite things were being joined together. But if you asked me at the time, I would never have imagined that it was something that would become an evergreen LEGO line and it would exist for 10 or 20 years continuously. It’s become one of the longest-living LEGO product lines.

StarWars.com: In designing how these toys would ultimately look, was there a certain trick to making sure that they were authentic and recognizable?

Jens Kronvold Frederiksen: There were a lot of discussions about how to do this with the models. Of course, we wanted them to look as authentic as possible, but the main concern is always to make a good toy. And that means thinking about what a child can put together, so there are some natural limitations. You have to adjust and sometimes simplify the design a little bit. Another thing was that we also had to teach Lucas Licensing about how LEGO models are put together.

If you have, say, an Imperial shuttle that’s all white — well, it’s not all white in LEGO. There’ll be lighter-colored pieces, gray-colored pieces, and so on. And that’s something we’re doing to ensure that it’s also a good building experience; if a child opens a box full of just white pieces, it’ll be impossible to put together. So that’s one example of how we make small compromises to a design, and we have a super good relationship with Lucasfilm, so they have a very good understanding of what a LEGO model should look like.

StarWars.com: Do you have any favorite stories about those earliest offerings?

Jens Kronvold Frederiksen: Humor’s a big part of LEGO Star Wars, and that was actually something we were thinking about, but it also happened automatically. Because, in a way, the minifigures are funny to look at. Especially the bad guys. If you look at Darth Vader as a minifigure — honestly, he looks a little bit funny. I think that’s such an important part of LEGO Star Wars, and it came almost as a coincidence. But we’ve kept building on that all these years later.

StarWars.com: Over the course of 20 years, what are some of your favorites?

Jens Kronvold Frederiksen: One of them is the Heavy Assault Walker from Episode VIII — set number 75189, which is basically an AT-AT on steroids. I think it’s an awesome-looking walker, and I think the LEGO product came out quite well. Another one is from the same launch: 75190, the First Order Star Destroyer. I like the Star Destroyers because they’re really a combination of a model and a playset. On the outside, it looks like the ship does in the movie, and then you can open it up and play on the inside of it.

One of my favorite stories is about a product that’s very special to me, and that’s the Ultimate Collector’s Series Millennium Falcon, 10179, which came out in 2007. That was, at that time, the biggest LEGO model ever — not just LEGO Star Wars. And the way it all started was very unusual, because we’d already done a Millennium Falcon, and some fans had reacted by complaining that it was not at minifigure scale. You could only fit two minifigures in the cockpit, and there should’ve been space for four. So I was walking around thinking about how to solve that, and I decided I was gonna make a new, minifigure-scale Millennium Falcon, and it was quite obvious that it was gonna be very big.

But I started working on it in my spare time, and some other LEGO people came by, and they asked: “What’s that about?” And I said, “That’s just for fun.” But they said, “Could we make it as a product?” Suddenly, we decided we were gonna do it as a product. Normally, the brief is that you’re designing a model for a certain price point. Here, the brief was, “Make the ultimate Millennium Falcon, and then we’re gonna price it afterwards.” So that was the dream scenario.

StarWars.com: Were you building with physical pieces, then, or were you doing it digitally?

Jens Kronvold Frederiksen: No, it was done with bricks. There are designers today that are working digitally, but in most cases, they’re still building with physical bricks. And there are many reasons for that. If you have a model, it’s good to know that it won’t fall apart in your hands when handling it, or whether it’s balanced. There are so many things you won’t know if you’re building digitally. So most of the time, we’re still working with physical bricks. We have testing periods where we bring kids in to see our designs, and they’re playing with our models. And that happens all the way from the earliest designs until you finalize the products. That’s always super exciting to see.

[iceamericanoventi]

Love Will Find a Way, Well, Eventually : 3. Bloom

“Is that it?”

Jinki raised his eyebrow to the man beamed like morning dew in front of him. He’s quite surprised with the visit of the younger. When he said he’ll stop by his café last time they met, he thought it was just formality of the courtesy talk.

“Nah, it would upset my stomach if I took more than coffee this early.”

“This is early for you?” Jinki glanced at his watch inevitably hearing such thing.

“My client and supplier abroad are still on the dreamland by this time,” he winked, makes Jinki chuckles behind the counter, “So how much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house.”

Those round eyes immediately turned brighter, “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Really?” He leaned further to his front, limb almost completely over the wooden surface. His neck stretched to the direction where Jinki’s making his order. Even from the back, Jinki still looks gallant, his back muscle subtly visible over his indigo cashmere.

“Cut it out before I change my mind,” he turned his back with cup of coffee in his hand, “Since this is early for you, do you mind if you have your coffee here instead for take away? Better for the environment.”

The blinding smile hypnotized Taemin on the spot, “Only if the boss sits with me.”

Another snorted came from Jinki, “Go pick your table then.”

***

“You seem happy this morning.”

Taemin put down the cup and support his head with his left hand on the table, while the right playing with the edge of the saucer.

“Me? Happy? We clearly didn’t know each other for a long time. This is the regular me.”

“Well, what I know is back then you were super grumpy during the whole dinner.”

Jinki brushed his hair back, the locks appeared so soft between his fingers. Taemin needs to suppress his urge not to feel it by his own hand.

“Sorry if my first impression disappointed you,” Jinki’s words halted for a moment, “My head was somewhere else.”

Minho has been texting him a lot since the next morning after they parted. He doesn’t like being accused as anything, but he doesn’t like it more when it’s actually true. He admits he was a bit rude, talking too cold to some people who weren’t at fault.

Even worse, the tall man bothering Jonghyun making the later had no options besides calling Jinki right after he finished with his shift at the hospital. And nagging Jonghyun is the worse.

“Kibum couldn’t stop wondering what the heck is going on with you during our ride home. He thought you’re on your period or something.”

“Maybe I was. Who knows?”

“Kibum was right when he said you’re a bit jokester.”

“It’s only me and you yet you keep talking about Kibum.”

“Jealous much?”

“Too early to talk about feeling. It would upset my stomach.”

Another smile adorn Jinki’s face, sending Taemin heartbeat to run faster than it’s supposed to be, “You’re interesting, Lee Jinki.”

“That’s what people said about me.”

At this rate, it’s hard for Taemin to not take Jinki’s friendly attitude as a light flirt. It seems he faced two different men. The dinner Jinki appeared like assassin in disguise, while the man before him idly looks like ball of sunshine. He sipped his coffee once more to cover his trembled lips.

“So how do I talk to you besides coming here to get my coffee?”

He expected the conversation would go this way, what else brought a busy designer like Taemin to the other side of the city, far for where his studio’s address – thanks to Choi TMI Minho – only to get a cup of cappuccino?

Besides Minho and Jonghyun, and some business partner of course, only several people has his number. Some family member doesn’t even know how to contact him besides the number of his shop. Jinki doesn’t like being disturbed. His time passed seven in the evening belongs for him, and for him only.

But something is unusual from Minho’s rants and excessive reminder to get closer with Taemin, at least try to give a chance for him. He figured that Minho must want to know Kibum better and Taemin won’t allow him to touch his precious best friend if he doesn’t get something in return. 

“Ask Minho.”

“Don’t you think I haven’t tried? I can get coffee on the ground floor of my building, Jinki.”

“Bet I have better brew.”

“Of course, the owner is such a view. I didn’t put any sugar but I guess when I leave this place I need to check my blood sugar. I might get early symptoms of diabetes.”

“Stop blurting out some non-sense.”

“Not until you tell me your digits.”

“Are you always this aggressive? Should I be worried?”

“Only to certain people,” Taemin winked playfully to finish his sentence.

“I’ll ask your number from Minho later.”

“If you had three-days rule under your sleeve, you better cancel it right here right now, Sir.”

“I think it’s safe for me to start worried now.”

***

Jinki walked aimlessly between the bookshelves, checking some new novels to enjoy with one or two glasses of Bailey’s. Yesterday he was cleaning his apartment, taking half day off from his shop to finally realize he needs to hold yard sale by the end of the night because apparently he’s certified hoarder.

He has too many books. Some of the binds almost fell off, some of the cover even ripped, and some got coffee stain or maybe wine or some liquor he downed while reading the said books. After some deliberation, he opted to bring all the books to the shop and purchased some new one to accompany him at home.

Minho said, nobody reads book anymore at the coffee shop nowadays, but Jinki spat right on him for delaying the promotional strategy he promised a while ago because the photographer suddenly ought to go to Japan for some possible exhibition the next fall.

“Five at most, Jinki.”

He looked to his the small basket on his left hand, it’s been a while he went to real book shop, there are already seven books inside, “We’ll see.”

“What’s the point of moving everything to your shop then bring back another hundred home?”

“I am not that rich, Honey.”

“You aren’t. But you are not gonna give up a book when you already like it as well.”

“Wow. The perks of being boyfriends for five years.”

“Not a perk. An agony. You could buy some nice wallet or watch for me instead piling books on each corner of your place.”

“Ouch. I’ll buy you snow globe on the anniversary of our break up.”

“Oh, how sweet.”

“I am.”

“Whatever. Gotta go, some kids need their hero.”

“I need my hero as well.”

“Then stop shutting people down and take the courage. Live a little!”

“Yes, Dad.”

Jinki shoved his phone at his back pocket and continued touching and picking and putting it back to the shelf, repeating it several times until he reached the new arrival sections. He saw a book with a teal cover with a sketch of beautiful window in embossed silver ink on the middle of it, with small handwriting right below, About.

He peek his basket again, still less than ten, I’m good. Saw him dumping the book on top piles of the others, a staff walked closer to him.

“Hey, would you like to join our fan sign event?”

“What?”

“Ah yeah, the writer of that book is holding a fan sign at the moment. There would be some little reading as well. And everyone who purchases that book today, can join the fan sign for free.”

The girl sees how Jinki’s hesitating at the moment, half whispered, she showed him to the shelf on her right, “The book just released two days ago. It’s already on the best seller wall. It’s the fifth book of the writer that made it there. I’m sure you don’t want to miss this.”

“I’ll think about that,” he walked to the check out counter to pay all of his books. It’s three in the afternoon but the bookshop is crowded as much. While waiting by for his turn, he flipped the teal-covered book to check the summary written.

‘A flower would wither, inevitably, with or without care. When a tree is not teared down by an axe, reality might override some expectation, while it stays in her might, it’s eating herself from the inside. Since nobody know, nobody care. Just like flower, inevitably, it would wither. You said a mother would always stays, it’s about love. But rain smashed down the earth, flooding the land, vanishing some hopes. So much dread, but it’s about love as well.’

He saw the writer’s name, Key it says – which he’s much not familiar with. But what irked him is the commentary notes, he saw the name of the first author his grandfather introduced him: Key did it again. Same energy, some reflection, but different touch as always.

Interesting, he thought. Retreated from the line he picked his phone and texted his manager that he’s not returning back to the shop after his afternoon shopping spree.

***

Something inside his chest is racing, thumping with unnecessary rapid pace. His eyes glued to the figure appeared at the corner of the small stage arranged at the back part of the bookshop. He looks so soft with another oversize sweater wraps him, as if the article of clothes is specially made for him. The color burgundy is contrast with the skin peeking just right above his collarbones.

Some audience by the first three rows squealing at the smile he sports when he looks at their directions. The scene makes Jinki ducked his head quickly, afraid that the man would think him a creep. A creep who stalks people they barely knew with book shopping as their excuses, hiding among some late teenagers making a fuss over small wave from the man.

Jinki stretched his neck a bit, checking for empty seat he could sneak in. He found a place on the right side next to a pillar covered by some wooden shelves, a perfect hideout until his turn for the sign.

“Hi, everyone!” his voice is still as charming as Jinki remembered, “Thanks for coming today though it’s with very short notice, you are all here! I am impressed, but also grateful to the hill.”

He stops for a while to reach his copy of the book he’s going to sign this afternoon.

“Actually, it was scheduled to be released only next month, even if I finished it early. So, I bugged my editor to chase their tails to distribute it faster. Guess I am a very good dog person!”

Roar of chuckles fill the air by the joke, but mainly by the way he rolled his eyes when he’s talking about his publisher.

“Today I will read for you some pages which are my favorite from ‘About’. This book composed by questions we have about all the simple things happened around us. Or to us. About all the things we take for granted.”

From his seat, Jinki can clearly see how the man blushed when a girl took a picture of him but forgot to turn off the flash light.

“For the first time, I don’t have main character. The story isn’t specifically centered on particular people. I want to be as inclusive as can be for everything’s happened inside this book could occur to anyone despite their social status or their point of view toward life.”

He takes his glasses and gulped down some water prepared for him before he opens the book in his hand, and started reading.

“She just left. She yelled one night, screamed her lungs out, spat on my face, at one point made me believed words came out from her, that I am useless. Ungrateful and asking too much. I had enough of you, that’s how she ended the dreadful conversation. The following morning I saw a glass of milk on the table, fifty dollars slipped neatly underneath. Cinnamon rolls placed next to it, wrapped by blue napkin, a letter laid on the top of it. No, it wasn’t letter, it was not even one paragraph, and it’s written at the back of old supermarket’s receipt. I’m sorry I had to do this, it began. I would be a bad mother if I’m with you. We shouldn’t have been each other’s pain. Since then, I resent my mother for all bad lucks I encountered for the last ten years.”

There’s no single sound from the audience. Everyone’s drown to the sooth voice reciting some lines from his book. One girl at the back even took out her handkerchief and silently wiped her tears. He bit his lips, seems reluctant to continue reading the passage.

Jinki stunned by the words. The last sentence tastes too familiar.

***

Kibum can only stare to the man walked closer to him. He blinks, once, twice, but the scene didn’t falter. The man even smiled, waved his book to the dumbfounded author. So many questions popping inside his head, starting on how on earth such an aloof personality is bothered coming to an event like this.

“I am a fan. Starting today,” he put the book in front of Kibum just like previous people before he observed. But the eyes of the said man still wedged on Jinki’s face, “You okay? Last time I checked, I’m not a ghost, Kim Kibum. Or should I say, Key.”

He took the book anyway, head still shaking in disbelief, “That name is off limit. How did you get here?”

“Err.., by subway?”

Only chuckles blurted out before he starts writing on the first page, “I thought an alien abducted you here.”

“Well, that would be less boring.”

“This is awkward,” Kibum snorted, “But thank you for coming. I mean it.”

“My pleasure, Kibum. I’ll finish this as soon as possible.”

Kibum waved to him slightly too excited, eyes glued to Jinki’s back, following him to the seat he’s sitting by himself, away from the crowd. A staff needs to tap his shoulder lightly announcing another reader already waiting on his right. He quickly apologized and detached himself from Jinki’s direction.

Meanwhile, Jinki traced the fresh ink on his copy, simple smile reappeared when he read the cute handwriting.

‘Let me know if you like the story. Or not. Enjoy, Lee Jinki! J’

He looks to the small stage, secretly hoping the later turned his head his way so he can mouthed another thank you and leave better impression. But Kibum’s of course busy signing and chatting with his fans. Sometimes he cracked a little bit too loud an excuse himself for startling people around.

Jinki is still trying taking in the entire situation without being overwhelmed. When Minho said Kibum’s a writer, he didn’t expect it would be this famous. And the way he treats each reader, furtively gave him hope. A hope of something he didn’t understand yet for what. A hope he secretly wished it was only on his misshaped mind.

“Is my book that amazing I got a beautiful man flipping the pages or is that too boring you expected some twist on the next paragraph?”

Jinki looked up when a familiar voice approached him. He was too caught up with the story line, he didn’t realize the fan signing is all wrapped up and some staffs already started clean up the chairs. Kibum smiles sincerely, and without asking any permission he sits next to him, leaned closer to check until which part Jinki already reading. Little did he know, his perfume confiscated Jinki’s respiratory system, making it hard to balance his need of oxygen.

“Care to explain again what on earth brought you here?”

Jinki closed the book and rested in on his laps, “I was buying some books. It’s the time of the month. Not something I’m proud of, but I do judge a book by its cover. Literally. And when I saw yours, it goes to the cart immediately. And one of the staff told me I got a chance to have my book signed by the author.”

“I should call my graphic designer after this and treat him a dinner.”

“You should. I’m rarely this open complimenting people.”

Kibum burst into another long haul of laughter. He looked at Jinki once again, and still, shaking his head again for this is such a weird coincidence. He was a bit ill this morning when he woke up and was still not in the mood even he got better after some medicine Amber gave him. He almost calling his publicist to postponed the book signing until at least next week.

He thanked his hard headed manager to shove him more soup and vitamins while yelling him it’s impossible to cancel the book signing which he personally asked to be added on his schedule.

“What do you think so far?”

“It’s too soon to come up with some conclusion. I’ll save that for later. But the passage you read before, I like that a lot.”

Lots of people reading Kibum’s book, lots of people said they love it. What just rolled out Jinki’s mouth, though, painted him some contentment. For Kibum, what he grasped from Jinki’s attitude back on the restaurant showed him that Lee Jinki is very hard to please. Taemin was almost all over him during the dinner, but he didn’t budge. And befriended with the designer, he got to know that Taemin is a very charming person, no one actually wasn’t drown on his vibe.

“What are you doing after this Jinki?”

He was planning to stop by Jonghyun’s house and bought some egg breads on the way knowing it was his ex-boyfriend’s favorite. The later has been bugging him with endless texts saying he’s exhausted.

“Hmm, nothing. Mostly go back home and continue reading.”

“Do you want to grab some bites?”

Jinki thanked his grandfather words as much as he cursed it. He would never say no to that kind of questions.

“Relax, it’s not a fancy dinner which might turn you into cold asshole.”

“Hey. I might be cold but I’m not an asshole.”

“We’ll see.”

***

Kibum brought him to his favorite burger joint in a very nice neighborhood. It’s close to the hyped area near Hongdae, but secluded enough to actually able to get some order served without being annoyed by some line. Kibum decided to take away and enjoy the burger while walking around with I-already-sit-for-a-very-long-time as an excuse.

They talked about books, puppies – Kibum has two –, and some stupid stuffs they encountered while walking down alleys to alleys. It’s not weekend yet, but the street’s already filled by youngsters.

“These kids are supposed to sit on their desk studying for dear life!”

Kibum couldn’t hide his anger when a group of freshman walked passes them and nearly knocked him down butt kissing the pavement. Luckily, Jinki was there snatching his arm in flash.

“Let them be. Too much studying is such a waste, they’ll stress themselves. Nothing great about being depressed.”

“Was that the story of your life?”

“Maybe, the part of being depressed in such young age sounds familiar.”

The answer brought Kibum quiet. By the corner of his eyes he catches Jinki secured both of his hands on the pocket of his coat, face straight to the front trying not to give Kibum any chance to ask something related to that.

“What life without drama, then? Now tell me, why you insist on running specifically jazz café.”

“I love jazz and I love coffee. I have the opportunity to wed them, that’s what happened.”

“But you don’t seem happy talking about it.”

“I’m not a talker to begin with. So to incorporate happy feeling on my conversation is quite challenge.”

“I wonder how I’m the writer and not you,” Jinki raised his eyebrow in question, “You always have a way with words, you know?”

“A gift. When you’re raised to argue with your folks, you’ll manage.”

They walked side by side for the rest of the journey back to the main street, both are occupied with their own thoughts. The temperature dropped as the night goes by, but neither is bothered with it. Much to Jinki preference, he likes the comfortable silence.

Sometimes he glances to his side, Kibum always caught him looking but he said nothing. So he did the same when Kibum cocked his head to check on him.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?”

Kibum asked the other man when he saw his car from a far.

“Nah, I’m good. Besides, I’ll be the end of your avid fans rant when they found out you drove back a newbie like me.”

Light slap landed on Jinki’s shoulder, “Stop it, will you?”

Jinki’s about to tease Kibum further, but seeing the man before him pouting like a toddler, all the will evaporated into the night sky and replaced with some funny feeling inside.

As they eased closer to Kibum’s car, Jinki hummed random song he listened to the radio blasted on the burger place which happened to stuck inside his head.

“I like that song.”

“The melody kinda stuck here,” he pointed to his temple which Kibum totally agreed with him.

“One last chance to get a ride from your new favorite writer.”

Kibum stands near the passenger door, waiting for Jinki to change his mind.

“Sounds amazing but I’m going to take the subway.”

“Your choice.”

He opened the backseat door to retrieve some of Jinki’s stuffs. He told him to leave the books in his car because he knew they will walk a lot and Jinki has at least four pounds of book in the paper back he handed back to the owner.

“Here you go. It was nice bumped into you, Jinki. Who knows you’re this, you know, remarkable.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Promise me you won’t hate me if you don’t like my book.”

“That won’t happened, I promise you.”

“A deal then.”

“A deal.”

Kibum decided that giving the other man a farewell hug is super awkward and would ruin the night. So he just nods and reaches the handle of the door, already missing the nice conversation he had even before he buckled his seatbelt.

“Kibum.”

“Yeah?”

“Umm, can I call you sometimes?”

Kibum’s smile never been this liberating.

***

It was posted on my AFF and I was thinking to cross posted it here. But, ofc, in a very very slower pace because I am that lazy yes, sloth is my spirit animal. If you’re interested to read the story, go check there. It’s already on chapter 7 lol! Thanks for reading this, I hope you like it! XOXO

[suzanneshannon]

How to Use CSS Grid for Sticky Headers and Footers

CSS Grid is a collection of properties designed to make layout easier than it’s ever been. Like anything, there’s a bit of a learning curve, but Grid is honestly fun to work with once you get the hang of it. One area where it shines is dealing with headers and footers. With a little adjustment in our thinking, we can pull off headers and footers that behave like they are fixed, or have that “sticky” treatment (not position: sticky, but the kind of footer that hugs the bottom of the screen even if there isn’t enough content to push it there, and is pushed away with more content). 

Hopefully this sparks further interest in modern layouts, and if it does, I can’t recommend Rachel Andrew’s book The New CSS Layout strongly enough: it covers both of the major modern layout techniques, grid and flexbox.

What we’re making

Let’s implement a fairly classic HTML layout that consist of a header, main content and footer.

We’ll make a truly fixed footer, one that stays at the bottom of the viewport where the main content scrolls within itself, as needed, then later update the footer to be a more traditional sticky footer that starts at the bottom of the viewport, even if the main content is small, but gets pushed down as needed. Further, to broaden our exposure to grid, let’s design our main content holder so that it can either span the whole width of the viewport, or take up a nicely centered strip down the middle.

A fixed footer is slightly unusual. Footers are commonly designed to start at the bottom of the viewport, and get pushed down by main content as needed. But a persistent footer isn’t unheard of. Charles Schwab does it on their homepage. Either way, it’ll be fun to implement!

But before we move on, feel free to actually peek at the fixed footer implemented on the Charles Schwab site. Unsurprisingly, it uses fixed positioning, which means it has a hard-coded size. In fact, if we crack open DevTools, we see that right off the bat:

body #qq0 {   border-top: 4px solid #133568;   background-color: #eee;   left: 0;   right: 0;   bottom: 0;   height: 40px!important; }

Not only that, but there’s the balance of making sure the main content doesn’t get hidden behind that fixed footer, which it does by setting hard-coded paddings (including 15px on the bottom of the <footer> element), margins (including 20px on <ul> in the footer), and even line breaks.

Let’s try to pull this off without any of these restrictions.  

Our baseline styles

Let’s sketch out a bare minimum UI to get us started, then enhance our grid to match our goals. There’s a CodeSandbox below, plus additional ones for the subsequent steps that get us to the end result.

First, let’s do some prep work. We’ll make sure we’re using the whole height of the viewport, so when we add our grid, it’ll be easy to put the footer at the bottom (and keep it there).  There’s only going to be one element inside the document’s <body> with an ID of #app, which will hold the <header, <main> and <footer> elements.

body {   margin: 0; /* prevents scrollbars */ } 
 #app {   height: 100vh; }

Next, let’s set up our header, main, and footer sections, as well as the grid they’ll all sit in. To be clear, this will not work the way we want right out of the gate. It’s just to get us started, with a base to build from.

body {   margin: 0; } 
 #app {   height: 100vh;      /* grid container settings */   display: grid;   grid-template-columns: 1fr;   grid-template-rows: auto 1fr auto;   grid-template-areas:      'header'     'main'     'footer'; } 
 #app > header {   grid-area: header; } 
 #app > main {   grid-area: main;   padding: 15px 5px 10px 5px; } 
 #app > footer {   grid-area: footer; }

We’ve created a simple one-column layout, with a width of 1fr. If that 1fr is new to you, it essentially means “take the remaining space” which, in this case, is the entire width of the grid container, #app.

We’ve also defined three rows:

#app {   /* etc. */   grid-template-rows: auto 1fr auto;   /* etc. */ }

The first and third rows, which will be our header and footer, respectively, are sized with auto, which means they’ll take up as much space as needed. In other words: no need for hard-coded sizes! This is a super important detail and a perfect example of how we benefit from using CSS Grid.

The middle row is where we’ll put our content. We’ve assigned it a size of 1fr which, again, just means it takes up all of the remaining space that’s left over from the other two rows. If you’re wondering why we aren’t making it auto as well, it’s because the entire grid spans the viewport’s whole height, so we need one section to grow and fill up any unused space. Note that we do not have, nor will we ever need at any point, any fixed heights, margins, paddings — or even line breaks! — to push things into place. Such is the good life when working with grid!

Shall we try some content?

You’ll notice in the Sandbox that I used React to build this demo, but since this isn’t a post about React, I won’t belabor those details; React has absolutely nothing to do with any of the CSS Grid work in this post. I’m only using it as an easy way to navigate between different chunks of markup. If you hate React, that’s fine: hopefully you can ignore it in this post.

We have Header, Main and Footer components that render the expected <header> , <main>  and <footer> elements, respectively. And, of course, this all sits inside our #app container. Yes, in theory, #app should be an <article> element, semantically speaking, but that’s always looked weird to me. I just wanted to covey these details so we’re all one the same page as we plow ahead.

For the actual content, I have Billing and Settings sections that you can navigate between in the header. They both render fake, static content, and are only meant to show our layout in action. The Settings section will be the content that we put in a centered strip on our page, Billing will be the one that spans our whole page.

Here’s the Sandbox with what we have so far.

The Billing section looks good, but the Settings section pushes our footer off screen. Not only that, but if we scroll, the entire page scrolls, causing us to lose our header. That may be desirable in some cases, but we want both the header and footer to stay in view, so let’s fix that.

Fixed header, fixed footer

When we initially set up our grid, we gave it a height of 100vh, which is the entire height of the viewport. We then assigned the rows for the header and footer an auto height, and the main a height of 1fr to take up the remaining space. Unfortunately, when content exceeds the space available, it expanded beyond the viewport bounds, pushing our footer down and out of view.

The fix here is trivial: adding overflow: auto will cause our <main> element to scroll, while keeping our <header> and <footer> elements in place.

#app > main {   grid-area: main;   overflow: auto;   padding: 15px 5px 10px 5px; }

Here’s the updated demo that puts this to use.

Adjustable width main section

We want our <main> element to either span the whole width of the viewport, or be centered in a 600px space. You might think we could simply make <main> a 600px fixed width, with an auto margins on either side. But since this is a post about grid, let’s use moar grid. (Plus, as we’ll see later, a fixed width won’t work anyway).

To achieve our centered 600px element, we’ll actually make the <main> element a grid container. That’s right, a grid within a grid! Nesting grids is a totally legit approach, and will even get easier in the future when subgrid is officially supported across browsers. In this scenario, we’ll make <main> a grid with three column tracks of 1fr 600px 1fr or, stated simply, 600px in the middle, with the remaining space equally divided on the sides.

#app > main {   display: grid;   grid-template-rows: 1fr;   grid-template-columns: 1fr 600px 1fr; }

Now let’s position our the content in the grid. Our different modules all render in a <section> child. Let’s say that by default, content will occupy the middle section, unless it has a .full class, in which case it will span the entire grid width. We won’t use named areas here, and instead specify precise grid coordinates of the form [row-start] / [col-start] / [row-end] / [col-end]:

#app > section {   grid-area: 1 / 2 / 1 / 3; } 
 #app > section.full {   grid-area: 1 / 1 / 1 / 4 }

You might be surprised to see a col-end value of 4, given that there’s only three columns. This is because the column and row values are column and row grid lines. It takes four grid lines to draw three grid columns. 

Our <section> will always be in the first row, which is the only row. By default it’ll span column lines 2 through 3, which is the middle column, unless the section has a full class on it, in which case it’ll span column lines 1 through 4, which is all three columns.

Here’s an updated demo with this code. It’ll probably look good, depending on your CodeSandbox layout, but there’s still a problem. If you shrink the display to smaller than 600px, the content is abruptly truncated. We don’t really want a fixed 600px width in the middle. We want a width of up to 600px. It turns out grid has just the tool for us: the minmax() function. We specify a minimum width and a maximum width, and the grid will compute a value that falls in that range. That’s how we prevent the content from blowing out of the grid.

All we need to do is swap out that 600px value with minmax(0, 600px):

main {   display: grid;   grid-template-rows: 1fr;   grid-template-columns: 1fr minmax(0, 600px) 1fr; }

Here’s the demo for the finished code.

One more approach: The traditional fixed footer

Earlier, we decided to prevent the footer from being pushed off the screen and did that by setting the <main> element’s overflow property to auto.

But, as we briefly called out, that might be a desirable effect. In fact, it’s more of a classic “sticky” footer that solves that annoying issue, and places the footer on the bottom edge of the viewport when the content is super short.

Hey, get back to the bottom!

How could we keep all of our existing work, but allow the footer to get pushed down, instead of fixing itself to the bottom in persistent view?

Right now our content is in a grid with this HTML structure:

<div id="app">   <header />   <main>     <section />   </main>   <footer /> </div>

…where <main> is a grid container nested within the #app grid container, that contains one row and three columns that we use to position our module’s contents, which go in the <section> tag.

 Let’s change it to this:

<div id="app">   <header />   <main>     <section />     <footer />   </main> </div>

…and incorporate <footer> into the <main> element’s grid. We’ll start by updating our parent #app grid so that it now consists of two rows instead of three:

#app {   /* same as before */ 
   grid-template-columns: 1fr;   grid-template-rows: auto 1fr;   grid-template-areas:      'header'     'main'; }

Just two rows, one for the header, and the other for everything else. Now let’s update the grid inside our <main> element:

#app > main {   display: grid;   grid-template-rows: 1fr auto;   grid-template-columns: 1fr minmax(0, 600px) 1fr; }

We’ve introduced a new auto-sized row. That means we now have a 1fr row for our content, that holds our <section>, and an auto row for the footer.

Now we position our <footer> inside this grid, instead of directly in #app:

#app > footer {   grid-area: 2 / 1 / 2 / 4; }

Since <main> is the element that has scrolling, and since this element now has our footer, we’ve achieved the sticky footer we want! This way, if <main> has content that exceeds the viewport, the whole thing will scroll, and that scrolling content will now include our footer, which sits at the very bottom of the screen as we’d expect.

Here’s an updated demo. Note that the footer will be at the bottom of the screen if possible; otherwise it’ll scroll as needed. 

I made a few other small changes, like minor adjustments to paddings here and there; we can’t have any left or right paddings on <main>, because the <footer> would no longer go edge-to-edge.

I also made a last-minute adjustment during final edits to the <section> element—the one we enabled adjustable width content on. Specifically, I set its display to flex, its width to 100%, and its immediate descendant to overflow: auto. I did this so the <section> element’s content can scroll horizontally, within itself, if it exceeds our grid column boundary, but without allowing any vertical scrolling.

Without this change, the work we did would amount to the fixed footer approach we covered earlier. Making section> a flex container forces its immediate child — the <div> that contains the content — to take up all of the available vertical space. And, of course, setting that child div to overflow: auto enables scrolling. If you’re wondering why I didn’t just set the section’s overflow-x to auto, and overflow-y to visible, well, it turns out that’s not possible.

Parting thoughts 

We haven’t done anything revolutionary in this post, and certainly nothing that couldn’t be accomplished before CSS Grid. Our fixed width <main> container could have been a block element with a max-width value of 600px, and auto margins on the left and right. Our fixed footer could have been made with position: fixed (just make sure the main content doesn’t overlap with it). And, of course, there are various ways to get a more traditional “sticky footer.”

But CSS Grid provides a single, uniform layout mechanism to accomplish all of this, and it’s fun to work with — honestly fun. In fact, the idea of moving the footer from fixed to sticky wasn’t even something I planned at first. I threw it in at the last minute because I thought the post was a bit too light without it. It was trivial to accomplish, basically moving grid rows around, not unlike putting lego blocks together. And again, these UIs were trivial. Imagine how brightly grid will shine with more ambitious designs!

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