#This was also supposed to be a collection of doodles but turns out art block is still rearing it's ugly head in my face and I hate all of it

[kirdoodl]

Little sketch of the best brothers ever :3

[amethystlogan]

It’s More Than Just a Squishmallow

Alternatively - Patton’s Excuse to Buy All of the Squishmallows

Summary - Patton is adorable and gifts his famILY squishmallows. Fluff and comfort ensues.

Warnings - minor anxiety from Virgil towards the end

No romantic ships, a bunch of platonic fluff

Human AU

Patton loves many things. His roommates-turned friends-turned family top the list, but are quickly followed by a variety of small enjoyments, such as cookies, movie nights, onesie pajamas, all manner of fluffy animals, and many, many fandoms. But also on the list is a thing that Patton loves, but can quickly become problematic - plush toys and stuffed animals. The problem occurs because when Patton loves something, he can easily go a little... overboard, to say the least. Usually it’s easy enough for the others to reign him back in, especially when it comes to his collecting such things. After all. the six of them sharing an apartment leaves limited space for him to accumulate too many things. The general rule established was as long as Patton could keep his collections confined to his space, it was fine.

However, all reasoning went out the window when Patton discovered squishmallows. The others knew things could quickly get out of hand the moment he came home from a run to the store with the soft, squishy, cat-shaped blob clutched in his arms, his face practically glowing with happiness and excitement. Not even Logan, who would normally be strict about sticking to shopping lists and not splurging on such unnecessary purchases outside of special occasions, had the heart to chastise him.

The cat squishmallow found its home on Patton’s bed, and the others hoped that would be the end of it. But then Patton came home with another. And another. Almost every time he was sent on a shopping trip by himself, he came back with an embarrassed blush and proclamations of, “But look how cute he is!” and “It’s just one more, Logan. What’s the harm?” 

But now, Patton faced a dilemma as he stood in front of his bed, dinosaur squishmallow in his arms, with no place left to set it down. With his new squishmallows, combined with the other stuffed animals he’d already had, there was barely enough room for him to sleep, let alone continue his new collection. He pouted, looking down and the dinosaur. He needed to figure out something! If there wasn’t room in his space, he needed to justify using the shared space in the apartment. And he knew he could probably puppy-dog face his way into keeping this one, but it would likely be the last.

Patton sighed, sitting carefully on the edge of his bed, dinosaur balanced carefully on his lap. As he sat, smiling softly at this small, cuddly friend, he began to think of his real friends. Of their smiles, their hugs, their moments of happiness and almost child-like behavior that they seemed to save for Patton’s famILY movie nights or pajamas only Saturdays.

From across the room, lying on his bed with his sketchbook in his lap, doodling with Disney songs playing in his earbuds, Roman glanced up and could practically see the light bulb go off in Patton’s head. Roman paused his music and pulled out an earbud. “You good, Padre? For a moment you looked like Logan when he finally solved that twelve sided Rubix cube.”

Patton looked up, his eyes shining with excitement. “I’m good, Ro! Hey, can I ask your opinion real quick?” he asked, bouncing off his bed over to Roman’s side of their room, dinosaur in hand. “Absolutely!” he replied, setting his sketchbook aside, “Always happy to contribute in a moment of inspiration.” “Do you think Janus would like this?” Patton asked, holding up the dinosaur. “Run out of room to keep them yourself?” asked Roman, watching as a penguin squishmallow slowly slid off of Patton’s bed and onto the floor. Patton followed his gaze and shrugged impishly. “....Maybe?” He gave a small smile, and Roman couldn’t help but smile back. He turned back to the dinosaur Patton held. “Hm, I think Janus would love him. He likes all sorts of reptiles, and due to the general blobbish shape of these, he kind of resembles those snakes he is so fond of. This dino could be the perfect companion! Especially for those all-nighters he spends with his nose in his law textbooks.” Patton giggled, “yeah, maybe he’s pillow-y enough to convince him to actually go to bed, before Logan goes after him with his laminated sleep schedule again.” “Excellent idea. I think he’d really appreciate it, Patt.” “Thanks, kiddo! I’ll give it to him when he gets home.”

Janus had accepted the dinosaur with dignified gratitude, trying to express that he liked it without seeming overly excited, as he attempted to maintain his smooth indifference without hurting Patton’s feelings. But anyone could see that the dinosaur had immediately taken residence, metaphorically in Janus’ heart as a prized possession, and literally at his desk as his new study buddy. It was to no one’s surprise when Janus threatened to physically fite Remus after he almost spilled ink on the plush after bumping into Janus’ desk when leaving their room with his arms full of various messy art supplies. Janus could pretend sentimental affection for the toy due to it being a gift from Patton, but it was obvious he was soft for the dinosaur.

Thanks to the ink incident, it was clear to Patton which squishmallow to get Remus next time he was out. He practically squealed when patton handed him the purple, squishy octopus. “He won’t mind if you get ink on him, ‘cause he could use it for camouflage!” Patton explained, as Remus immediately hugged the toy to his chest, regardless of the ink and paint all over his shirt. “I love him!” Remus shrieked, pulling Patton into an equally crushing hug, before running off to his room, proclaiming, “Me and Inky are gonna plunge the depths of the ocean for inspiration! Anglerfish ink prints dead ahead!”

Logan shook his head fondly, failing to hide his smile at the interaction. “I suppose I should refrain from informing Remus that and octopus of such bright coloration would likely not be capable of accompanying him to such depths due to lack of sunlight?” “Oh, let him have his fun.” Patton said, flopping onto the couch next to Logan. “They’re adorable squishy blobs of animals, it doesn’t have to be realistic.” “I suppose there is some truth to such a sentiment, although I’m sure we are both aware he will begin to speak to it as though it is conscious.” “I know, but that’s part of the fun, too.” Logan gave a small smile to indicate understanding, if lack of agreement, before returning to his book.

And so,to cater to Logan’s clearly more scientific and practical preferences, patton got him a unicorn, but in key chain size. He figured Logan would be able to look past any scientific inaccuracies with an animal that wasn’t even real. And they were all aware of Logan’s fondness for the fantastical, as evidenced by his own onesie. Logan had given Patton a look over the top of his glasses rim when presented with it, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. He had long ago given up the pretense of being all seriousness all of the time, and found to his surprise that the others respected him no less for it. However, he did choose to only indulge in such frivolity on occasion, such as his onesie only making an appearance at their monthly movie marathons. He did appreciate the mythology and folklore behind such creatures, but was grateful for the smaller, more inconspicuous size of the plush Patton had selected. He chose to attach it to the strap of his shoulder bag for library trips, but carefully tucked the unicorn into the bag. He would never deny sentimentality, but would prefer not to have it on display all of the time. And if Patton caught sight of him gently squeezing the small squishmallow with a fond expression after a particularly stressful day, he chose to make no mention of it.

Roman had honestly been a little trickier than Patton had expected. He’d been standing in that toy aisle for way to long, but it was a difficult choice. At a glance, his eye was caught by a lion squishmallow, which had seemed perfect for their own Gryffindor prince. But sitting behind the lion was a soft, light grey and white owl that drew Patton to reconsider, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain or describe just yet. But the longer he stood there looking at it, the more convinced he was that the little owl was just meant for Roman, even if he couldn’t say why.

It became clear when he got home, and found Roman in their room, almost in tears. He was fighting a major bout of artist’s block, and couldn’t seem to put pen to paper. No idea seemed good enough, bold enough. The white expanse of empty paper intimidated him, and he couldn’t find the courage or impulse that usually drove him through such moments. Even if he could make something, the mere thought of posting it anywhere, it scared him. 

But then Patton came in, pulled the sketchbook from his lap, and handed him that little owl squishmallow before pulling him into a hug. As Roman accepted the embrace, and began to calm down, he looked at that owl, soft and comforting, and he found that moment of reprieve that the others could only associate with Patton. Roman knew that he could always come back to his work later, with a fresh mind and new motivation. For now, he had Patton, and when Patton couldn’t be there, he had that little owl.

When Harry Potter faced hardships, he didn’t need the Gryffindor lion to bolster his courage, but a moment with his friends, or with the loyal owl that was there for him until the end. Hedwig the Second, as Patton affectionately called her, became Roman’s go-to for artist’s block, stress, sickness, or anything where he just needed that moment to regroup.

Virgil knew it was coming, he just didn’t know when. What had started as a simple excuse to buy more squishmallows had grown into a mission of sorts, and Virgil knew it was only a matter of days before he was gifted a squishmallow of his own. He didn’t entirely know what to expect, but hoped it would be a bat, or black cat, or something of the sort that would at least fit his aesthetic. His half of the room he shared with Logan was an emo’s dream after all. He figured Patton knew him well enough to suit the plush to the black and purple scheme he had going. But after Logan’s unicorn, he really couldn’t guess what Patton would do.

The very last thing he expected was the pastel blue dragon squishmallow that might have been as big as Patton himself that Virgil found sitting on his bed when he got home from class. But he couldn’t find it in him to care about his “rep” for the moment, as he was about two steps from an anxiety attack. He’d woken up that morning on edge, it was just going to be one of those days. Class had been awful, he hadn’t understood the lecture, and his fellow students had decided to be louder than usual leaving the lecture hall, only making him more uneasy and overwhelmed. Then he’d nearly gotten run over in the crosswalk coming into the apartment building. It didn’t help that it was one of those rare afternoons when everyone else was out, either in class, at work, or at rehearsal for Roman.

So Virgil stood in the doorway of his room, in an empty apartment, shaking, trying to fight back tears, and found himself facing the light, fuzzy blob of comfort that he knew had come from Patton. Virgil choked out a laugh, wiping at his eyes as he toed off his shoes and climbed into his bed, cuddling the dragon close. He breathed deeply, and slowly. In, and out. He could almost hear what Patton would be saying. He was okay. Logan could help him sort out his class notes. The car hadn’t really been that close outside, the sudden honking was just jarring. He was okay. In, and out. He was home, he was safe, it was quiet. The others would be home soon. He fell asleep shortly after calming down, with thoughts of his friends in his mind and the soft, soothing crinkles of the dragons wings and scales under his fingers.

It may have looked quite out of place in his room, but to Virgil, it didn’t matter. That dragon was his new protection from overrunning thoughts when the others couldn’t be there. And when Patton got home that night, he found himself tackled in hugs, and the dragon found a permanent spot right on Virgil’s bed.

Suffice to say, the others never again thought it a problem that Patton like to collect a few too many of the things he loved, because his famILY was still at the top of his list.

[monstaxardeur]

sunshine - ii

Warnings: Angst

Your hands brushed over the surface of your old sketchbooks, other books and diaries lay stacked up around you as you sat on the wooden vinyl flooring of your room, the sunlight poured through the lace curtains letting in a gentle summer breeze. Your mind recalled all the times people asked to see your work…it was strange how none of their words of praise affected you…you were never satisfied. How many times had you stepped out of the house, ventured into the woods, maybe spent an evening at the coffee shop hoping your ink could be of satisfactory when it splayed on the paper before you.

A silent tear trickled down your cheek and the rest followed as you hugged your knees sniffling softly by yourself in your empty room with boxes that lay open, there was a lot of unpacking left to do but it was hard….it was difficult to move on like this. This little home was all you had now and it was going to be littered with bittersweet memories that you could never let go, those you never wanted to let go..~

You had lost the touch, it was long gone, every time you picked up your pencil or paint brush or anything to create art….nothing came out..no..nothing came out the way you wanted, it was as if you hadn’t learned anything at all, as if you forgot the basics, the fundamentals, all of it kept withering away like dried off petals falling off a flower. You wept every time and eventually let go of the idea and penned down your emotions instead and then stacked them locked up in some long forgotten box, never reading them.

He squinted his eyes at times to read through the smudged ink, his fingers following the letters as some of the things written were hard to decipher, like poetry of endless metaphors that another human may not be able to relate to. His soft blonde fringes covered his eyes as he furrowed his brows…he’d reached the last page but he was sure there must have been more. Putting aside the rusty file he rummaged through the boxes, but it was a mess of scattered belongings, books, trinkets, diaries, photo albums etc. None of them could help him figure out which written piece belonged to which timeline.

After rummaging through a few more paper stashes he had found, he sighed giving up, gently putting them back away knowing very well he’s not suppose to be doing this but curiosity had gotten the best of him. He wasn’t all that happy knowing he’d been reading through someones personal writings, though his thoughts stopped at the sight of a photo album, it looked oddly familiar. He picked it up and noticed it was custom designed for polaroids of all sizes, it was cute with lots of stickers on it. But of course, you’d been looking everywhere for it, he remembered you describing it as you sulked about losing it. He noticed it was empty though except for the first page and he wasn’t sure how to react when he saw its contents….

The picture, the only picture that graced the albums first page…was his, a candid of him looking up at the trees as the sunlight filtered through creating patterns of shadows on his face. His heart swelled with a warm feeling of love seeping through him, his cheeks turned red. He slowly closed the album and kept it on your bedside.

‘you are my blue~’

‘you are my blue~’

You hummed along to the song, it was your favorite these days, quite a contrast to your love for the summer which was always yellows & oranges but of course it also meant clear ‘blue’ skies and crystal clear ‘blue’ water.

“My little blue bird, what makes you sing this blue song?” Hana inquired as he held two warm cups of hot coco in his hands and sat down next to you by the little table in front of the tv.

You only smiled at the cute nicknames he called you and sighed again as if defeated, you couldn’t bring yourself to pick from the wide array of collection of Disney and Don Bluth classics that lay before your.

“Ah I see your dilemma.” Hana spoke chuckling and placed a hand under his chin as if to think. You turned to see what he’d suggest while taking a sip of your warm coco and saw as he got up smiling, ‘ah I know just the thing’ he thought. He rummaged through his bagpack and came back to your side with a little brown bag that had a dvd stores sign.

“I would have packed it nicely as a gift but since you’re so down this should make you happy, I hope it does.” He ran his hands through his hair nervously as you opened the bag and what you saw made your eyes gleam with joy.

“Digimon season dvd’s…all the ones I was looking for..” you spoke and you couldn’t contain your feelings you’d been going on and on about wanting these, they were a connection to your childhood that you’d been wanting to relive. You hugged Hana and he was a little taken aback at your affection but he was overjoyed, to him it was as if a cat had returned the love he’d been throwing its way and he hugged back in a bear hug rocking a little, giving you reassurance. He knew you were going through some inner struggles but never voiced them, you never burdened anyone with them and tried to find solace in your new home.

As the ending song played for the sixth time, you had your head in Hana’s lap over a plush cushion and you had drifted off to sweet little dreamland and Hana who had been watching the show with more anticipation noticed suddenly how his dear friend was snoozing. He smiled softly not wanting to disturb you at all and reached for his hoodie ever so gently as to not wake you and laid it on you. You shifted a little curling up more and Hana couldn’t help but observe smaller details about you like how soft your hair was to his touch, or the way you tucked your feet under another pillow, the steady rise and fall of your form in your comforting sleep.

Unable to hold back, Hana leaned down to swiftly press his lips over your head. He swallowed a lump in his throat though, he didn’t know why he did that…he was sure there was no romance, he was sure of it or was he? He knew he never imagined anything beyond friendship with you but then why was he feeling this way. He started to care so much, he went out of his way at times for you, he felt protective of you as if he just wanted to hold you in his arms and hide you, to comfort you and tell you that..'it was going to be okay'~

Hana sighed turning off the tv and flipped through the channels but his mind was clouded by the same thoughts. He knew though he had some place in your heart, some place special perhaps? Your photo album couldn’t lie nor could all the times he found you trying to sketch him but per your say you failed every time & was just doodling for art block. He could however never decipher if you liked him like a crush or were you just genuinely feeling the way he did…mixed and stuck. But what if it was both and neither of you could distinguish anything?

Hana:

二人の間　通り過ぎた風は　どこから寂しさを運んできたの

泣いたりしたそのあとの空は　やけに透き通っていたりしたんだ

(futari no aida toorisugita kaze wa doko kara sabishisa o hakondekita no

naitari shita sono ato no sora wa yake ni sukitootteitari shitanda)

Marnie:

Speeches that my father gave me would always make me despair

Somehow, I feel a warmth and comfort today

Your ever kind heart, the way you smile, and even how you find your dreams

I knew nothing, so honestly, I’ve always copied you ~

Fireflies danced between the green underneath both your feet as you two sang softly holding hands rocking them back and forth. The night was beautiful, summer nights with chilly wind breezes were dreamy..~

Two little daisies strolled along to forget the world’s worries and just be happy in the moment~

-loading next episode…

[siriuslyblack12]

chapter 2

Sirius stood on the blocks, heart beating fast, legs threatening to give out at any moment. His arms gripped the block tighter, steadying his nerves as he let out a long breath. Thoughts spiralled chaotically in his head, impossible to ignore as they built in strength and severity.

 Is my cap on tight enough?

Don’t go too soon.

Don’t go too late.

I have to win. Dad’ll go mad if I don’t win.

I have to make him proud.

 I don’t give a shit whether I make him proud or not.

 “Mr Black,”

 Don’t breathe on breakout.

Don’t breathe at all.

You need to get a good time.

 “Mr Black,”

 Winning is everything.

But be a good loser.

 “Mr Black,” the distant voice was getting louder and louder.

 You know what happens when you lose.

 “Mr Black, I asked you a question! You could at least pretend to be paying attention.” Professor McGonagall scolded, bringing his attention back to the classroom. He wasn’t at the pool, rather in an English classroom, his almost empty page of notes lying in front of him.

 “I’m sorry, Professor. Won’t happen again.” He said shyly, not daring to meet her eyes.

 School had only started a couple of days ago and Sirius already felt as if he was suffocating. Their professors really weren’t holding back this year, piling up homework and lectures and revision to the point where the student’s backs ached with the pressure. Atop of all of that, social lives and media presences took a lot to keep afloat, as well as sport and fitness. Sport seemed to take up 90 percent of Sirius’s current brain capacity, which was now seeming to be a problem.

 English was by far his favourite subject, being the only one that he shared with all 3 of his closest friends. He looked over at James only to see him staring adoringly at the back of Lily’s red head, chin on his hands. With a roll of his eyes, he turned the other way to meet the sight of Peter sneaking snacks out of his bag, handing a few crisps to Remus under the desk. At least he was eating.

 The lesson came to an end with the sharp sound of the bell, and Sirius collected his things as quickly and quietly as possible, heading for the door to finally sort through the anxieties swirling in his head; until he heard an old voice call out, “Mr Black, can I speak to you for a moment?”

 Shit, this was exactly what he didn’t need.

Defeated and ashamed, Sirius was surprised as his eyes met a kind looking smile and a careful gesture to take a seat. His mind reeled in confusion, but he did what was asked of him anyway. McGonagall cleared her throat and began to speak.

 “Is everything alright?” Three words, simple yet powerful, and definitely out of the ordinary. He had no idea how to answer that, not exactly knowing where his boundaries were and how much he could say. He may have been one to overshare on social media, but he was certainly not one to spill his emotions wholeheartedly.

 “Never better, Minnie.”

 “It sure doesn’t seem like it, Mr Black. I remind you that this is a safe space.”

 Sirius looked down at his hands, wrapped in tight fists with his knuckles turning white with the effort. The walls suddenly felt as if hey were closing in on him, his heart rate picking up and foot tapping a rhythm on the floor.

 “I’m just finding it hard to concentrate, that’s all.” He said defensively. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

 McGonagall nodded glumly. This situation was uncomfortable to say the least. Sirius glanced back at the door of the room, where he could have sworn he saw Remus looking in through the window before hurrying away awkwardly. That boy was a mystery, which only drew Sirius further to him.

 “You know Sirius,” his professor never called him by his first name. “Help is always given to those who ask for it.”

  ~~

  “Please Moony,”

 “No.”

 “I’m begging you!”

 “No, Sirius.”

 “Why not? It’ll be fun, I promise. I really need it.”

 Sirius really was like an excited puppy, Remus thought to himself. He’d just been relaxing in the library, catching up on some reading and enjoying the quiet lull in the day before he was quite rudely interrupted by the one and only trade of Hogwarts High. He supposed he didn’t mind it, given that he was always happy for Sirius’s company – no matter the circumstances. However, on this occasion he was less willing to participate in what the other had planned, that being tutoring him.

 Remus let his mind wonder for a few moments, imagining what it would be like to be alone with Sirius, bonding over books and equation. Now that he thought about, it sounded stupid, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

 “Why are you asking me, Pads? Why not one of the girls?” He suggested thoughtfully. “I’m sure there are plenty of people who would be better than me.”

 “I’m calling bullshit, because you my friend are the smartest person I know.”

 Remus slumped back into his chair, his heart skipping a beat. He desperately wanted to say yes, to help him out and be a good friend. He knew that Sirius hated studying, so asking for the blue-eyed boy to help him with that must have been a challenge for him. He also knew that he needed to exercise at least some self-control. Maybe tutoring Sirius would be an excellent idea, a chance to do a good deed and spend some quality time boding with his crush at the same time, without it being too suspicious.

 Do you know how pathetic you sound?

 He watched as the boy in question looked down towards the floor, one hand running through his hair which Remus had quickly learned was a nervous habit of his. This wasn’t going to end well, nothing ever ended well for him. Rising to stand on two weak legs, he swept his things that had been spread over the table into his bag and slung it over his shoulder with as much swagger as he could muster. He looked back to see that Sirius’s eyes were trained on him, silently reading the room and atmosphere.

 “Tomorrow lunch, 12:30, in the library. Don’t you dare be late.”

 Remus walked briskly away, not waiting see Sirius’s reaction and biting back a wide smile.

 ~~

 Turns out that tutoring Sirius Black was not the gentle, romantic, flirt-fest he thought it would be, and was in fact turning out to be a lost cause. The boy had a lot of trouble recalling metaphors, understanding Shakespeare and the like, frustrating Remus with basically everything he said. Often times he would zone out, picking at a loose thread on his t-shirt or twirling a piece of hair through his fingers, and even more likely were his frankly stupid remarks that were only made out of his compulsive need to be the funniest in the room. The most stupid thing about them is that they were actually funny, and Remus couldn’t always contain his laughter.

 “Pads, stop, stop, no,” He warned. “You cannot compare Romeo and Juliet to fucking Spider-Man and MJ.”

 “What? Why not? It fits, that’s all that matters, right? Sirius reasoned, pen between his teeth.

 “You have to get rid of that. The whole paragraph would probably be best, so it still makes sense.”

 “But that’s my best one! If you didn’t like that then you’re definitely not gonna like the next few.”

 Remus buried his face in hands, as Sirius took the essay and out of his hands and ripped it right in half. Drama queen was the only thing he thought to think but a closer look at the other’s face told a different story. “You didn’t have to do that.” Remus said softly.

 Sirius didn’t reply, instead opening his notebook and flipping through to find a blank page and start again. The remnants of drawings and doodles did not go unnoticed, some of which were surprisingly good. He wasn’t taking art this year, but by the looks of the pages in front of him, he should be. Sirius got back to work quickly, scribbling none sense that wouldn’t do him any favours in front of his teachers.

 “C’mon, you can do better than that. Let me help you.” Remus pried the pen from his hand and pushed the textbook towards him. “And no more drama.”

 “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Sirius added with an enthusiastic wink that made him swoon and squirm in his seat.

 The table was subdued for the next few minutes, Remus’s intelligence never failing to impress Sirius, but this was more due to the fact that he shared practically none of the same wit. He wasn’t actually as clueless as he had previously made himself out to be, but that didn’t keep him from acting like it. Perhaps some people’s smarts were more suited to other areas: those areas not exactly helping Sirius’s grades. Remus helping him out was just an extra bonus, or so he told himself.

 Long hair fell into his eyes as Sirius leaned over Remus’s shoulder, too close for comfort, inspecting what he was pointing to and explaining. Something about themes that even Remus was quickly forgetting as the boy by his shoulder got closer.

 His trance was broken as the bell rang, penetrating through his ears, earning a laugh out of Sirius as he jumped slightly.

 “Well, moony, I best get going,” he said briskly. “Maybe we could do this again sometime, eh?”

 “Yeah, sure, yeah” Remus stumbled exasperatedly, a blush forming on his cheeks that was often present these days. “Whenever you need me.”

 It was an authentic moment, sweet and short, but meaningful nonetheless. Until…

 “Padfoot! Moony! Get over here, Peter’s trying to arm wrestle Marlene.” James. Always one to ruin it.

 “Poor thing, why the hell would he?” Sirius laughed, rushing to follow him. “Moons, you coming?”

 Remus smiled. “You go ahead, I’ve got my own work to catch up on.”

 “Are you sure?”

 “Yeah, I’m sick of you anyway.” He added sarcastically, earning another deep laugh.

 ~~

 They continued to have these study sessions, Sirius becoming alarmingly enthusiastic about what would once have kept him far away and out of reach. It was a strange change in the groups’ dynamic, as where Remus and Lily would disappear of to the library, or a classroom to interrogate professors about the work, Sirius now trailed along with them. The red-headed girl had at first raised her eyebrows, or squinted her eyes suspiciously, but had now acclimated nicely. But that didn’t stop her from forming her own theories about what was going on with Remus and Sirius.

 This also had the unexpected effect of getting James Potter of all people in the library for what must have been the first time in his life. Seeing Sirius so confident surrounded by nerdy things like books and papers had been the push he needed to follow him and shamelessly flirt with Lily. Remus noted the way she tucked her hair behind her ears and fiddled with her bracelets whenever James was around.

 At this current moment, the four of them were hard at work on different projects, making mindless small talk as they grew increasingly bored. Sirius whispered something to James, obviously amusing as they burst into fits of laughter.

 “Do you two ever shut up?” Lily said, fighting her own amusement.

 “Lily, my dear,” she rolled her eyes. “That would take the fun out of it!”

 More comments were exchanged, mainly between Lily and James, as Remus found himself unable to form any words of his own in the presence of Sirius.

 Stop it. If you fall too deep you won’t be able to swim back up.

 Maybe I don’t want to swim back up anymore.

 “Hey, moons, what do you think about this?” Sirius questioned happily, thrusting a sketchbook towards him. To say it was absolutely beautiful would be an understatement, Remus thought as he studied what was in front of him. It was a detailed drawing, all in coloured pencil, of a field at sunset. The outline of a forest coated in orange and pink shades covered the page and his eyes were drawn to the silhouette of a rabbit, burying itself a hole in the grass.

 “I’ve been trying my hand at art, my dad hates it.” He said, directed only at Remus. “I know you saw some drawings the other day and thought you’d like it.”

 “I-, Sirius this is amazing.” He gushed, until Lily saw what he was looking at and joined on his shock.

 “Where have you been hiding all this talent? Are you serious?!” She squealed.

 “Nah, I’m Sirius. You know that.” The familiar joke didn’t exactly catch anyone off-guard.

 Remus’s mind went to what he’d said about his father, and he began to wonder the exact meaning. He only knew what everyone knew about Sirius’s home life: it was shit and he didn’t like to talk about it. He’d speculated that his parents were quite controlling, but the details were unknown. James hadn’t even been informed.

 He secretly hoped that perhaps one day he would know, and he would be able to help Sirius through whatever was going on, but he would wait until the other boy was ready. In the meantime he supposed he would do whatever he could, whilst making sure his secret didn’t show itself.

 He’s your friend. That’s all.

 But when a friend is hurting, you should put in a little more effort.

[austenholls]

Purple-Hued Night

LOCATION → huntington beach, ca

TIME FRAME → friday night, june 18th, 2027 | 11:00 - 11:47 PM 

NOTES →  written on discord.  winnie & austen chat in the hot tub while sharing a bottle of lukewarm Jameson - about austen’s muse, winnie’s dancing, and caring about what people think. 

TAGGING → @austenholls & @songwheein

Austen 

[ Austen, bottle of Jameson in her hand, shimmies out of her shorts to reveal her red swimsuit bottoms. This night feels weird, it isn't how she wanted it to go, but by now she's somewhere between tipsy and drunk and her barely there high from earlier has dissipated. She slips into the hot tub, eyes attempting to avoid the view of the bonfire. She reaches out to snatch her phone that has spilled from the pockets of her discarded shorts and quickly plays a playlist - the first song being How Will I Know by Whitney Houston ] "There's a boy I know, he's the one I dream of, looks into my eyes, takes me to the clouds above, mmm-hmm," [ She sings softly before pressing the Jameson bottle to her lips, bobbing her head to the music. Eyes peer to her left and spot Winnie, her free hand lifts in beckoning wave. ]

Winnie

[ Clearly the first half hour or so of the bonfire had lured her into a false sense of security that they could all suck it up and get along. She herself hadn’t been involved in any of the drama, but there had been plenty. It had been easy enough to slip away to the deck when she was ready for her exit, but the night had been too perfect to abandon just yet. Cool, ocean breeze, purply black skies. When music breaks the din, she turns to look and finds Austen looking back at her, she can’t help but smile. It’s been nice spending a little time with her as adults. ] There’s nothing sadder than drinking alone, y’know.

Austen

[ She can't tell if there's pity or if it's just the truth. She nods for Winnie to come join, bottom lip worried between her teeth ] Then make me less sad.

Winnie

[ She crosses the deck to the edge of the hot tub, peering down at Austen. The music makes her bare feet tap almost unconsciously. ] Are you sad? [ It only takes her a second or two to fully accept the invite, slipping out of her shorts and cropped tee until she’s stepping and then sitting into the water in her underwear. She reaches out for the bottle. ] Hand it over, sad bitch.

Austen

[ Eyes dart to the slight foot tap and then back to the blonde's eyes. ] A little. Maybe. [ She's too drunk to deny it. Also too drunk to deny herself the joy of watching the thing dancer gracefully step out of her clothes. A sloppy drink is taken before handing over the handle. ] Tell me the secret, happy bitch. Ice blue aura. How are you always so collected?

Winnie

[ She snorts softly before taking a quick swig. God, that’s rank straight. ] I’ve always been conflict-avoidant. [ Eyes roll a little. ] I also care a lot less these days. But I’m not always zen, contrary to what you might think. Clearly I’m a very good actress in addition to being a very good dancer. I’m one singing voice away from being a triple threat, damn.

Austen

[ There's no shame in the fact that she doesn't care how gross the alcohol is. ] Wait -  [ a pause as she points at Winnie. ] Are you saying you /can't/ sing?

Winnie

[ Blonde head turns to meet Austen’s eyes with a raised brow. ] Why do you think I /can/ sing?

Austen

[ Tilts her head, both brows raised ] You were like so good at literally everything in high school. Am I supposed to think otherwise? [ asks with a laugh, holding her hand out and making a grabbing motion at the bottle of liquor ]

Winnie

[ Gladly hands it over, then finally ducks under the water to wet her hair, using both hands to slick it back after she resurfaces. Leans back against the wall of the hot tub. ] I’m a passable singer, I guess. Enough for me to lay something on a track until I can get one of my much better friends to sing it for me.

Austen

[ slips a hand around the bottle, opting to set it aside rather than cloud her mind anymore ] So maybe you are a triple threat. Dancing, Acting, Music ability in some way. Not everyone is so lucky. [ shrugs, looking to the blonde ] You say you care a lot less these days. What's that mean?

Winnie

[ Thin shoulders rise and fall. ] It sounds so douchey, but I just don’t care. If someone doesn’t like me, I’ll find someone else that will. If someone doesn’t believe in me, I believe in myself. [ She’s quiet for a second or two, thoughtful. ] I guess it’s easy to not care as much about other people if I sacrificed what my parents think of me to be happy. If I’m not going to let them stop me, why would I let anyone else? [ Another pause. ] Music helps. A lot. [ She turns her head, looking at Austen curiously. ] Art’s always helped you, right?

Austen

[ Blinks at the other girl - was that real? She's met people who feel that way, but is it ever actually true that you just don't care what people thing? Seems farfetched. ] I.. [ She wonders if she left behind what her mother - Hannah - thought of her, then maybe she'd be freer to care less, too. ] Seems like you've got it all figured out. I can't imagine not caring. [ A dry, possibly bitter, laugh leaves her lips ] Used to. Haven't been able to get much out recently.

Winnie

[ She can’t help but laugh. ] I’m not enough of an asshole to think I’ve got anything figured out— let alone all of it. But I promised myself after... Kennedy— everything— that I was going to stop being happy the way other people wanted me to. I was sick of meeting those expectations. [ She’s quiet after Austen’s explanation about her art slump. Visual art’s never been her strong suit, but she knows how much it hurts to be creatively frustrated. After a moment or two— ] Have you done anything new lately?

Austen

I mean, you seem like you've got it all down. Happy in LA, new look, new you. I feel like the only thing that I've figured out is that I look terrible as a brunette and I am still a child at heart. [ shrugs, looking up at the sky as she leaned back into the hot tub's jets ]  That's what high school was about for you then? Pleasing the parents and fitting into their mold? [ she asks, though she sort of always knew that. there's part of her that can't help but cling to who they all were back then ] Like in general or a new medium? I've been doodling a lot, but nothing that makes me want to finish... I.. [ pauses, looking over at Winnie ] Maybe I'm kind of scared that I'm not good at it anymore.

Winnie

You can’t be ‘not good’ at it anymore. That’s not how it works. [ Art is art is art is art. ] I mean I could break both my legs tomorrow and be objectively ruined, but what you do? That doesn’t just get lost unless /you/ forget it. [ She tips her head to one side, thinking. ] I mean in general. Go somewhere new. Listen to something new. Watch something new. Fuck someone new. Eat something new. Sometimes routine smothers our art, y’know? [ She sinks down into the water a bit. ] Maybe you should do something new, even if you’re bad at it.

Austen

[ She knows Winnie is right - that's why the laugh that escapes her is somewhat exasperated. ] I went to Portland. I fucked a bunch of new people there. Ate a lot of weird new Asian foods... But yeah. I think... there's something stuck inside of me and I'm... [ Talking this much about herself felt weird. This felt weird. ] Maybe I should do something new. [ Caves and agrees, smiling a little before laughing again ] Do you ever get blocked dance or music wise?

Winnie

Sure, yeah. It happens, and it sucks. [ She flicks a little bit of water at Austen— just enough to skim off the surface. ] Here. We’ll have an example. Doesn’t have to work, but it’s worth a shot. Close your eyes.

Austen

[ Flinches when the water comes her direction, furrowing her brow ] Oh, god. This feels like some weird ass hippie bullshit is about to happen. [ Laughs, closing her eyes and settling in - the alcohol is pushing her to trust Winnie a little more than she usually would ]

Winnie

[ Laughing. ] I’m definitely not the hippie of this group. [ She leans out of the water to wipe her hand on her shorts and retrieve her phone. Scrolling through it, she finds the song she wants to play and sets it on the deck between their heads. ] You’re not going to understand what she’s saying, but that’s not important, right? Just trying something new. See if it even gets half a wheel turning in that ginger head. [ She plays 보라빛 밤 on her phone and sits back. It’s a song she’s vibed to for a long time. It makes her think of colors and feelings and she, personally, finds it really emotive— inspiring. She doubts Austen will take nearly anything as much from it as she does. But maybe the language barrier will actually help. Maybe she’s thinking too damn much. ]

Austen

[ smirks ] Now I'm curious who you think /is/ the hippie. [ lets the silence settle, eyebrow raising over closed eyes as she hears the song begin. it's clearly Korean - she can tell that much, but shes never been into K-Pop. She's assuming that's what this is, at least. The music has a strong beat, an identity that's bouncy and she can tell that this is definitely something people can dance to. Austen listens to sad music, slow music when she paints - so Winnie isn't wrong. This is new. She gently moves her hips beneath the water, her head bobbing to the chorus. When it ends, she opens her eyes, looking to Winnie. ] Can you play it again?

Winnie

[ If she tried to pretend she hadn’t been running the entire choreo to herself while the song played, she’d be lyyyyyying. Sunmi is a queen, and Winnie will worship. The grin that splits her face when Austen asks her to play it again is straight devilish. Shit eating. ] You wanna know what it’s called?

Austen

[ Eyes blink a few times as she sees Winnie's grin, her own smile growing ] Sure... I can't say I won't butcher it. But I was just starting to feel something. I need to hear it again. [ She motions quickly with a hand, water flicking off of it ]

Winnie

Purple-hued night. [ That’s her favorite part. Everything about the song /feels/ purple. It’s such good production. She presses play again. ]

Austen

[ There's a shiver that hits her spine - her mind paints an entire piece in her mind before she gets it onto a canvas or paper. Varied hues of purple would mesh perfectly with what she was seeing the first time she listened. As the song plays again, this time the piece lights up in her head in color, the smile on her face unavoidable. Maybe Winnie was right. Maybe new things would spark her muse... just like this. ] [ The music stops again and a drunken Austen finds Winnie's hand underneath the water ] Will you send this to me? I... thanks, Win. [ her voice is soft in a whisper ]

Winnie

[ Again it's like muscle memory to thread their fingers together. Austen's hands are bigger than her own, but they're thin and slight. Winnie squeezes gently. She's still smiling, but it's a little softer now. She nods. ] Don't thank me. Thank Sunmi. [ She winks. ] But yeah of course I'll send it to you.

Austen

[ Austen returns the squeezed hand, an easy laugh escaping her ] Would it be your dream to dance with her? [ Keeps her hand comfortably in Winnie's. It feels like this past week has bonded them in some way. Maybe because they're both some sort of artist ] I don't listen to K-Pop usually.

Winnie

[ She reaches for the bottle of liquor and takes a sip, coughing quietly. ] I'd love to dance with a lot of kpop artists, to be honest. A lot of artists in general. The few times I've done tours or even one-off gigs with people in LA have been so fucking fun.

Austen

[ Releases Winnie's hand in favor of running it through her hair ] I feel like you're going to have to show me some of your tik toks or something because as much as I know you're good at everything... Like... bitch, prove it.

Winnie

[ Winnie scoffs, loudly, and pads her way across the hot tub to sit directly opposite Austen. She drapes her arms along the outer edge and leans back, languidly extending her legs, one reaching out of the water in a pose before she brings it down to splash the water the other girl's way. ] My tiktok isn't hard to find, ass.

Austen

[ She watches the other girl, a brow raising as the other girl's graceful limbs very particularly moved through the air. She's about to speak again when water comes flooding her way - there's just a loud, joyful laugh that leaves her as she wipes off her eyes ] Oh, sorry, I don't go scrounging tik tok for my super smart, always had a booked schedule friend from high school. [ Easily shoves some water Winnie's way, hoping to get her back just a bit ]

Winnie

[ She blows a raspberry, rolling her eyes in response. ] You must've had some other friend back then because I was never super smart. Sure you don't mean Shiloh? [ A beat. ] Maybe she does have a tiktok. [ Leaning forward more into the water. ] I promise you, I'm that good. Whether you find my account or not.

Austen

I mean... like comparing anyone to me - they're super smart. It's not like I fucking read your report card, my man. [ she laughs ] I'm gonna find the account and you're probably like allstar level good. Don't reduce your talent. [ leans forward, matching Winnie's stance ] Or is this an LA thing? Where people pretend like they're not good just to get more praise?

Winnie

[ That gets a loud bark of laughter. ] The last thing /anyone/ gets in LA is praise. [ This time when she splashes Austen with water, it's much gentler. Half-hearted. ] Let me know when you find it. And let me know when you paint something. I wanna see it. First, even.

Austen

[ It feels nice to be around Winnie - like she's less pressure than the rest of the group for some reason. Which is odd considering they'd just talked about the thing that felt the most full of pressure - her art. ] First? [ A soft hum vibrates against her lips. ] Will do. I can make that promise. I can also promise I will be up until all hours of the night finding Winnie Song on tiktok.

Winnie

[ She lifts two fingers to her brow, saluting. ] There are worse ways to go to sleep than knowing there's another girl out there watching my videos all night long. [ A grin. ]

Austen

I'm sure I wouldn't be the only one. [ Austen smirks, her buzz beginning to fade a little and the idea of warm Jameson makes her shudder. She stands, clumsily stepping out of the hot tub - if there are ever two opposites in movement, it's these two - except on skates ] Hey. [ she turns to Winnie after grabbing a towel from a nearby chair ] Could you help me set up a tiktok? I feel like my roller skating could at least get some sort of attention on there...

Winnie

[ She holds up a hand, thumb up. ] You got it, dude. [ Head tips to one side, appraisingly. ]

Austen

[ She nods, though tiktok seems like a heavy investment of time. The redhead gently dries off her legs and torso before wrapping the towel around her waist. ] I'm gonna grab something new to drink, maybe change. Don't have too much fun without me. [ She chuckles, picking up the Jameson and her clothes before waving a quick had to Winnie. She tiptoes toward the back entrance, humming the song from before. Maybe she'd get something out onto canvas or paper soon. ]

[somewhere-in-the-dungeon]

2019, Aug 16

I love teaching people to fight :) Okay, it was like, an hourlong lesson at most, and it was on boxing which isn’t especially well suited for some things especially this person’s stature, but they had fun and I had fun and they beat up my punching bag a bit and I showed them how not to telegraph so heavily and how to use their leg and hips to punch.

Also I got to run Ars Magica, and I am loving this campaign. We spent the whole time wandering through the school (we’re basically doing AU Hogwarts, and the school is structured as a somewhat more structured geomorph but with weird magical wards and weirdness, and I had a blast. Pretty sure the players loved it too, from the room that gave half of them cat ears (+4 to Perception rolls involving sound!) to the room with no light and a bunch of buzzsaws randomly strewn around.

First-pass session writeup below the cut, because this is long but I didn’t want to leave out clues to how the place works and also because I was just really excited. I should probably boil this down somewhat, since the writeups are supposed to double as summaries for quick catching up and this one. . . is not quick.

(If you do read it and think it sounds fun, we run a session once or twice a month based on a poll I send out after each session, and it’s West Marches as well as Troupe Play, open table!)

Nemed, Alois, Barley, Luthor, Squawk, Glade of the Empty House, Blair and Caoimhe, Bole of Perdo and another Perdo scholar set forth under Eantro's order into the school, to find the lost book- the Perdo Perdo. With no further information, they set forth into the winding unmapped and perhaps unmappable corridors and passageways of Strawgoh. The first out of place room they come to contains a fountain of water spouting into a stone pool, only several inches deep but perhaps three paces across, with coins at the bottom and the words "Keep in mind your heart's desire" written around the base in Latin. Barley tosses a coin in for luck, but nothing appears to happen, so they continue out through the one door up the stairs.

From there they enter a room of stone with torches high on the walls, and the sparks from the torches quickly form out words on the ceiling, spelling out a popular rude drinking tune. Barley sings along with great gusto, and once finished the sparks simply say "Play something new?" Barley obliges with "The Party on the Back of the Wagon," a song that's just as jaunty and just as crude. From there they can take either a door to a marble bridge which goes outside the walls, clearly two stories up from the castle despite no such bridge existing from the outside, before making a U-turn back into the building. At the midpoint, they speak with a talking stone statue of an imp, swapping gossip. Alois tells it that the mayor of town was graverobbing, and it tells them that many people have been dreaming of the pastor naked or of a brilliant multicolored bird.

Beyond that they wind through a long corridor where strange tapping can be heard on the walls, and a frieze of a sprouting seed can be seen as well as numerous doodle like carvings. From here, they face two choices- one room which Alois recognizes, occupied by well crafted leather seats and which inexplicably fills the mouth of whoever enters with the taste of sweet pastries. The other room is like a small entrance hall, full of balls of yarn and clawed furniture and the sound of rats. Squawk determines that the rats are not actually speaking, but are a babble of rat noises. When the party enters to look around, about half of them wind up with cat ears. From the room with the yarn, they find two doors- one leads to a corridor with an infinitely tall pair of walls leading to open sky above, at the end of which they find a room filled to the brim with clear water which does not spill out, a stature of a mermaid embracing a sailor. The water proves deathly cold, and the party retreats back to the parlor. The other door there leads to a library with many books in dead languages. In the library, they find that one book is missing from its spot on the shelf- and also that the others when translated for a page or so are mostly lewd romances.

Beyond the library is a pitch black room which admits no light, but Barley's Lumos reveals its interior. It has many stone blocks rising from the floor to knee height, as well as a few ropes stretched across parts of it and one spot with a small pile of marbles. The party passes through, though one of the Empty House members collects some marbles for use elsewhere. Beyond this is a staircase, rising up and up at least two stories, the last stretch of which is covered in broken eggshells. Squawk determines many of the eggs to be chimeric, mixtures that flow from bird egg to snake egg to fish egg, and the magi in the party in unison groan that this is the work of the Gryphem, possibly the founder himself. This staircase ends with an odd set of double doors- they seem to have no divide, yet one door opens to a small parlor with a number of small items on its counter and shelves as well as a few coins and some empty leather purses, and the other opens to a wide stone auditorium with an onyx archway with a ragged curtain at its centre and the Perdo sigil scratched on the stone beside it.

Investigating the dividing line briefly, Glade of the Empty House rogues and Barley find putting a hand through the middle space to be disconcerting, an electric tingle that grows painful and buffets their hand in turbulence the further they reach into that divided space. After experimenting with this, they find their faces have swapped- Barley looks like the rogue, and the rogue looks like Barley. Investigating the arch, the party determines that it is a magical item with a powerful Perdo effect. Many of the party hear whispers from their departed parents, which urge some of them to come through and others to stay back. Glade produces a dove via magic, which Barley mistakes for a phoenix and Squawk convinces to fly through the archway. The dove falls, dead, and the party decides to move on despite Luthor's conviction that it holds a doorway to somewhere else beyond.

From the auditorium, they have two doors to choose from. One leads to an expansive wood walled and wood floored dance hall which is filled for a moment with phantasmal dancers. Entering the room, they feel an eerie sensation attempt to seize control of their limbs, compelling them to dance to the tune. Barley and Alois dance across together, she making up for much of his lack of polished dancing. Nemed frowns and manages a dispelling aura around himself, walking through, and Blair and Caoimhe dance together through though Caoimhe ends up taking a fall and lightly twisting her wrist. Blair dances back and forth, helping them each along. From there, there is at first a stairway with some carvings in the walls, many depicting circles of wizards and witches, one clearly depicting Luthor's great working on the town of Longwater where he walked their low outer wall. From there they find a stretch of corridor with heptagram tiled floor, which interlinks without a gap the way triangular or hexagonal tile can be laid, but the geometry of which hurts the eye and mind to look at for too long.

Beyond, they find another room of pitch darkness, carved with the Perdo sigil. Inside, they again try Lumos, but this time it does not overpower the darkness, and they cautiously enter. Glade rolls marbles forward and listens to the sound they make, while Nemed follows the wall. Both guide themselves carefully around the obstacles, which this time are whisper-silent rotating blades of jagged metal. They realize the danger only when Nemed finds one reaching out from the wall, and feels his way gingerly up to the edge. Now warned, they make their way through the darkness until they find a door, though they know not if it is the only one. Beyond is a short hallway, ending in a door with the Perdo sigil marked. Here, they find a treasure perhaps worth the journey, though it is not the book they seek- an beautifully designed and supplied lab for Perdo magics, with a black sphere an armspan across at its centre. Brief tests reveal the sphere destroys anything inserted into it, as well as leaving a black spot in the vision of anyone who stares directly at it for too long. (Alois does this, sustaining a large splotch in the centre of his vision.) Two doors are here, one opening to the dining hall which is just finishing dinner, and one carved with the words "The arts called dark really are not good for a person in the end" in Goídelc.

Eantro, being carried from the dining hall, spots them and desperately manages to warn them against going through the door so inscribed. It is left by him for a successor, someday, but will kill anyone unready to face it. He describes it as a place of Perdo, perfect in all forms, and Nemed determines that a piece of wood pushed into the blackness beyond is destroyed utterly. Much of the party returns, trusting from past experience that a laboratory door will stay fixed for some time.

Nemed, Squawk, Luthor and Bole continue on, backtracking a bit to the auditorium to take the other door from there. That door leads to a short passageway with an elaborate chandelier as well as one uncomfortable sigil of an eye with a warped sclera and pupil (C-12) carved into the stone. The passage slopes downward into a small room marked with the sigil of the spreading seed, with flickering torches set on the walls casting unnerving moving shadows on the ceiling, augmented by many cranelations and inserts. Flies buzz here, but they pass through unmolested. From there they enter a winding sandstone staircase that leads up at least two floors, opening on to a storeroom of sorts. It has many burlap bags and a number of flies buzzing above, and a thick coating of white goop. Squawk identifies this as bat guano just before Nemed taste-tests it with his poison detection spell. They climb further up the staircase, arriving at a belltower with a huge bell missing its tongue. They look about them, and suspect the tolling of the bell heard around the school originates from here, though no belltower has ever been spotted from the ground and no bellringer is employed. On the way down, they see a sigil of a bat etched into the steps, and as they cross the passageway they find the eye has disapeared, replaced by an odd inked drawing or painting. (C-7) They too retreat out of the maze of Strawgoh, back to stable, unwarped territory.

[softest-nerd-freddie]

HELLO I'D LIKE TO PITCH A STOZIER IDEA. it's not good or anything but imagine ; stan works at a bookstore and richie comes in to look for a book for bens birthday, he's obvs completely out of his element and he's rly loud bc he's talking to himself (the adhd ya feel) and stan is just like can i help you, and richie falls in love with stan bc boi is he blunt and he comes back every single day to see him

I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW OKAY

Stan works in the bookstore and he loves it. He loves the atmosphere, the smell of new books surrounding him and the fact that he can organize everything the way he wants (his boss let him do whatever he wishes to, when he saw that Stan’s ideas brought more income). This is basically his small heaven.

The only thing he doesn’t like about it are customers. Most often they’re loud, they leave mess and they are rude and obnoxious. There are also really nice people, quiet, the ones that respect workers. And there is third group, people that don’t really fit into stereotypes mentioned before. 

And one of them enters the shop that one summer day and brings with him the “pinch” of chaos that this very moment makes Stan’s brows furrow. His bird sense tingles so he decides to watch the guy.

He looks lost. Yes, that is the best word to describe it and it makes Stan chuckle inside. When the door closes behind, he just looks around him, trying to figure out where exactly he should move. He runs fingers through his thick curls and lets out loud groan earning few looks from people around him. 

Stan wonders for a moment if he should approach him or let him be, but the longer he observes him the more he feels that this guy needs help. He moves from behind the counter and wearing his special smile, he asks “how can I help you, sir?”

The guy, who is now busy reading book titles out loud and speaking to himself things like “no, it’s not it”, “maybe this one?” etc, jumps startled and quickly turns around to face Stan. As soon as his eyes lays on him, he freezes with his mouth open.

Stan is wondering if his eyes are this big because of the situation or if it’s just his glasses.

The whole situation is uncomfortably funny for Stan. Time passes by and no one says anything. For a moment he’s afraid he broke this guy with this stupid question. He clears his throat and repeats his words, trying not to think about the way this guy is looking at him. 

This seems to bring back life into this customer, as he quickly moves his eyes away and says “yeah, sure, I think so.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Ummm, a book.”

“So you’re in the right place, this is bookstore.” Stan couldn’t help himself but be a little mean. This customer doesn’t look like one easily offended and he proves this when a wide smile grows on his face and pats his face with his palm.

“Right, sorry. It’s my friends birthday today and I, of course, left the shopping for the last minute.” he says, looking sheepishly at Stan, making his heart melt a little. 

“Do not worry, my friend. Tell me something, what does he like? I’m sure I will be able to help you choose.” he says, smiling softly. 

“Um, he likes…books.” Is all he receives as an answer and now he can’t control the small laughter that escapes his mouth. 

“Aw fuck, I did it again!” the customer says laughing as well. Then he quickly remembers that his friend (Ben is the name he mentions) told him about few titles about DIY he would love to have in his collection.

Stan guides him to the right section in the store and shows him those. The guy chooses two of them and can’t stop thanking him on their way to the check out. 

After Stan gave him his change and receipt, the customer looks at him with his big eyes and suddenly asks “If I come here next time, will I find you in the art books section?”

This time it’s Stan’s turn to feel broken. He doesn’t know how to react and before he manages to do anything else than raise his eyebrows, the guy is gone.

Fast forward to the next day, Stan still remembers this weird guy and he find those memories really pleasant. They make him smile and that feels good. About half an hour before the shop closes he hears the bell, meaning someone enters and he sees familiar mess of dark locks.

The guy looks around, clearly less lost than the day before and the moment he notices Stan he smiles widely and comes to him. “He really liked them” he says. Stan has never had the situation when the customer came back to thank him, so he just answers “I’m glad.” and kind of wants to go back to his duties.

“I’m Richie, by the way. Richie Tozier.” the guy follows him and Stan has no other option than to answer “I’m Stan.” 

“Thank you so much again, Stan. See you!” and just like that the guy is gone. Stan can’t really comprehend what the hell has just happened, but decides to brush it off.

But the next day he sees him again. He stepped by looking for a good horror story and Stan recommends him the new book by aspiring author Bill Denbrough. 

They engage into a small talk and Stan feels uneasy with the way he enjoys hearing Richie’s voice, even when he throws not funny jokes, and tries not to look too long into Richie’s eyes when he takes his glasses off finally showing how beautiful they are.

The next day, fourth as Stan counted, Richie enters the shop and looks nervous. His hands tremble slightly so he hides them in his pockets and when he says “hi” his voice cracks. Stan wonders for a moment if he should ask if everything is okay, but before he can open his mouth he hears one word.

“Coffee?”

He doesn’t know how to treat this, and how to respond. The first thing that comes to his mind is to just ask “A book? A book about coffee?” and so he does. Richie who up to this moment seemed like he was about to faint any second, lets out heavy breath and smiles weakly. “Yes.” he says and in no time he’s back onto his usual tittle-tattle.

Stan really feels the weird tension between them this day. He isn’t stupid, he knows what this “coffee” was supposed to mean. It has just happened so fast he was stunned. After this no moment feels okay to bring back the topic so they just move to the check out. Richie seems like he wants to say something, but just looks at his feet and says quick “bye”.

On the fifth day Stan catches himself on looking through the window, searching for the familiar locks. He worries that Richie won’t come back and is not happy about the way it makes him feel. He can’t focus on his work, so his coworkers force him to stay behind the counter all day. 

Everytime he hears the doorbell he looks there with hope, but after 6 hours of nothing he almost gives up on waiting. 

He’s so busy with doodling in his notebook, he doesn’t notice the last customer that enters the shop. He hears footsteps approaching him but doesn’t move his head from where it lays on his fist. It takes the guy to clear his throat loudly to finally attract his attention and as soon as he raises his eyes, he feels like the sunshine has been poured into his heart.

He quickly stands up, almost too eagerly, so he clears his throat as well and tries not to smile so wide. Richie greets him and hands him a note, saying his father wants him to buy this. “After you” Stan says, pointing into the right direction. When Richie turns his back on him, Stan quickly takes a pen and scribbles something on the back of the note, and then rushes to his favourite customer.

After they find the right book and Richie pays for it, they stand on the both sides of the counter a little bit awkward. Stan slips the receipt and the note Richie gave him earlier into the book and hands it to Richie. 

When Richie leaves the store he closes his eyes and pats his head with hand, saying “stupid stupid stupid!”. He accidentaly bumps into someone and the book falls from his hands. He quickly crouches to grab it and then he notices the note that fell out of it. 

On the one side there is what he wrote to pretend he has a reason to come to the bookstore.

On the other there is written in the neat hand writing telephone number and one word.

Coffee?

okay, I really hope it didn’t turn out as messy as I’m afraid it did? I think this is closer to badly written fanfiction instead of headcanonns, but this is really the closest I can get to right now and it really helps me to fight my writing block so I think it’s okay? :”D

[soprano193]

100 Ways to Say... (43/100)

So this isn't even done... I had originally picked a different sentence, but here I am, 4,500 words in, and I am not even halfway done.  The good news is, I am working on the second half, with a different sentence.  I have it all planned out, actually!  I don't know when it will be posted, because I am slowly working on it for camp nanowrimo.  So it isn't done yet.  BUT, I won't post anything else here until the second part is done, so I don't mess with continuity.  Wit all that said and done, enjoy!

Next door neighbors in the suburbs AU.

I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.

Ricky Rogers had been in Katie’s life for as long as she could remember.  From the moment she was born, Ricky was never too far away.  His Mom, Martha, lived next door, and worked all the time, so Katie’s Mom used to watch him for free.  It was like growing up with a slightly older brother.

Her first concrete memory is of him crying.  He had spilled his milk all over his clothes.  Her Mom had a lot, but she didn’t have a key to his house.  It was the one day Martha didn’t pack extra clothes.  So he was wearing her shirt, one with yellow sunflowers on it, crying about wanting his solar system shirt back.  She tried to distract him by pulling him out to the sand pit in her backyard.  “Sandcastle?”  As she spoke she offered him the bucket.  “Build here.”  When he took the bucket, she kneeled down and started to dig the moat.

It took him some time to join her, but soon he was down in the dirt next to her.  “Want help?”

“Yes please.”  She filled his bucket with the excess sand from the moat.  After a few moments of silence, she looked up, grinning at him.  “You’re okay.  Don’t be sad.  Sandcastle.”

He turned the bucket over in response, the sand crumbling at the edges.  “Thanks, Katie.  I’m not sad anymore.”  He poked some holes in the top of their sand mound, like windows, and grinned.  “Who lives here?”

“Hmmmm.”  Katie bit her lip as she thought.  “A Princess and her Knight.”

At her words, he leapt up, his feet kicking sand into their moat.  “Let’s play pretend!  I’m a Knight.”

“I’m the Princess!”  She joined in, standing with him.  She only gave herself a moment to laugh before pointing at a tree behind him.  “Help!  Monster!  Get it, Knight!”

“I’ll save you!”  He shouted as he ran off, pretending to fight whatever imaginary creatures she came up with.  He ran around so much, he didn’t even hear when Katie’s Mom yelled that his shirt was all done.  Instead he spent his day rescuing his closest friend.  A few of the monsters, Katie got herself.  She loved teaching him the best way to defeat a porch monster and a garden ghoul.  The swing monster almost got them both.  Never once did she think that a Princess couldn’t save the day.  Sometimes though, she needed help from her brave Knight.

Saturdays were the days she looked forward to most.  Saturdays were Martha’s day off, which meant the roles were reversed.  Katie’s Mom would go out and do the errands that she couldn’t do while Ricky was at the house.  Katie’s Dad usually worked.  Which meant that Katie got to go spend time at Ricky’s house.

His house was so cool.  There were more musical instruments than Katie thought existed.  Martha always let them play with each one, and she taught them the history behind them as they played.  Also, Martha’s dress up trunk marveled any other one Katie had ever seen in her short life.  But to top everything off, Ricky had a pretty amazing treehouse.

Katie never found out who built the treehouse.  It had been there as long as she could remember.  It was pretty high up in the tree, an old rope ladder the only way to get up.  Once inside, they had a view of the forest that seemed to go on for miles.  The cramped space was filled with books and art supplies that kept them busy for hours.  Martha even let them color on its walls.  They covered the inside of that treehouse with doodles and designs, and random splashes of color, as tall as they could reach.

Over time, they filled in that empty space at the top.  Their hands grew steadier, the drawings more concrete.  Once in a while, a math problem showed up whenever they ran out of scrap paper.  Katie knew one day they would grow to be too tall to stand straight up.  Ricky was already getting to the point where he had to hunch over.  It started to amuse her, once she realized they had spent their whole lives there.

In school they sort of ran in separate circles.  Ricky made friends who were other boys, who enjoyed playing King of the Rock and having races.  Katie spent more time with the girls in her class, making clubs and playing make believe.  It seemed like such a natural progression, she didn’t feel like she was missing anyone.  She still saw him on the bus, when he sat next to her.  On Saturdays she still went to his house, where Martha taught them duets on the piano and they played in his treehouse.  On Sundays he came to her house for the sand pit and make believe, usually with a bouquet of hand-picked flowers in his hand for their table.  He was still her best friend.

It was the summer before freshman year that he asked for help in the treehouse.  “I need to get some of the junk out.”

She regarded him with a wary look.  “Our crafts?”

His blue eyes grew wide as he vehemently shook his head.  “Of course not!  Those will stay forever as far as I am concerned.  But there are toys and books up there that I haven’t looked at in years that need to come down.  It will free up some space.”

It had been getting cramped, now that they both were almost full grown.  Whoever built it had children in mind, and not the young adults that they had become.  “I have some free time.  I could come after dinner?”

He laughed, his eyes softening.  “I think this will be a really long process.  Can you stop by tomorrow?”

“Sure!”  As soon as the word was out of her mouth, she realized she had no clue what the plans were, and she did need to double check with her parents.  “At least, I’m pretty sure.  I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay.  See you soon!”  He hugged her at the point where their properties met, and she nuzzled her face into his shoulder.  Before long they had parted ways, each going into their respective houses.

She headed over the next day, dressed in her cleaning clothes, a black bandana keeping her hair out of her eyes.  She headed straight for the treehouse, the sound of him whistling drawing her nearer.  She yelled to let him know she was there and not to climb down, and started climbing that old rope ladder up to meet him.

Inside she found him surrounded by piles and piles of books.  “What are you doing?”  She teased as she squeezed in next to him.

“I’m trying to separate them by age range.”  The one he held in his hand was Goodnight Moon, a book she didn’t even realize was still up there.  “We’ve never done this, and Mother doesn’t come up here, so there is lots of clutter.”

Looking around she could see he was right.  A doll sat in the corner that she hadn’t touched since she was ten.  And etch-a-sketch on the windowsill still had his sad attempt at a circle.  The bins filled with matchbox cars and baseball cards were old too.  She couldn’t remember the last time she had looked through those.  She pulled the box of cards closer to her and pulled off the cover.  “Can I have these?  My Dad would like them.”

Ricky shrugged.  “Most of them were yours anyway.  I never liked baseball as much as you.”

She muttered out a thanks before scooching toward the door.  But it was once she got there that she realized the problem.  “Uh, Ricky?  I don’t feel comfortable crawling down one handed.”

He didn’t look up as she spoke.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean, how am I supposed to climb down this ladder with a box in my hands?”

This piqued his attention, and he put the books down and crawled over to her.  “No, you won’t have to.  See this?”  He pointed to a pulley that was hanging below the door, something she had never noticed before.  “Mother and I used it when we filled it the first time.  She filled a box and lifted it, I unloaded it up here.  We can do the same thing to clean it out.”  He pointed to the one large box that was already in the treehouse.  “We can use this to get everything down once we have it all together.

“And one of us can fill boxes on the ground and send the big empty one back up.”  She finished for him, catching on to his plan.  They shared a smile, the connection between them clear, and they both moved to different ends of the treehouse.  Ricky stayed near the books while Katie started looking at the art supplies.  Anything broken or dried out got thrown in a trash bag.  She sorted the crayons, chalk, and markers into separate boxes.  She got rid of paper product warped by water.  And then she just crawled around collecting trash.

Between both of them, it took three days to clean all the stuff they didn’t want any more out.  Martha took loads every day to the dumpster or to donation centers.  With more room, they found themselves enjoying the treehouse again.  Now that they were older, they enjoyed it in a different way.  Ricky became Rick, and started writing short stories.  He would sit up there with his head in his hands, the notebook on the side of him as he worked through writer’s block.  Katie would read through and offer suggestions.  She started bringing her own books up with her to read while he was stuck, sometimes reading out loud to give him ideas.  Maybe it helped, maybe it didn’t.  He let her do it all the same.

The week before starting freshman year, they watched the stars together through the little window.  They sat against the wall, her head on his shoulder, while he pointed out constellations.  He knew what he was talking about, and his confidence gave her a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach.  So she stopped him by lifting her head from his shoulder to look in his eyes.  “Will you bring girls up here on dates?”  His eyebrows scrunched together as he narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out where her question came from.  “Just because this would be, like, the perfect free date.  And I just got this image of you up here with girls, and I don’t want to crawl up here to visit you just to find you kissing someone else.”

He laughed then, shaking his head.  “What?  No.  That’s insane.”

“But it’s not insane!  You have this space up here that is pretty private, your Mom never comes up here, and it would be the perfect place to bring a girl.”

He chuckled, the tiniest shake of his head calming her down.  “No.  It’s insane because I don’t bring anyone up here.”

Her mind went over their fourteen year friendship, as she racked her brain for a name.  “Anyone?”  She asked as she came up empty handed.

“Well.  I don’t anymore.  I tried once.”  Whatever look she had on her face must have amused him, because he laughed.  “Not a girl!  I promise!”  He leaned back against the wall.  “No, not a girl.  It was Dylan Cummings, in second grade.  He came up and wanted to add some drawings to the wall.  I wasn’t watching, he started to draw over your princess.”  Her eyes drifted to the spot on the wall where her large Princess was, dressed in a blue dress, a spiky yellow crown on her head.  “I stopped him, but I told him it was your picture.  He didn’t care, he thought his was cooler.  So I made him get out.”  As he spoke, she resettled against his shoulder.  “I decided this was our place.  No one else needed to come up here.”

At his words, she smiled against his shoulder.  “I like our place.”  They stayed in relative silence for a bit, listening to the crickets.

It was Rick who broke the silence this time, shifting his weight so he could look down on her.  “Did you get your class list yet?”

“No.”  She lied.  She already knew they didn’t have classes together.  They’d been together every year with the exception of seventh grade.  She didn’t like the idea of taking classes separate.  “I think I’ll get it in the office on the first day.”

“What if we don’t have a class together?”  His voice was softer, broken in a way, and it made her heart clench.

“We’ll have lunch.  And weekends.  I’ll still be next door.”

He resettled, his arms crossing over his chest.  “You’re right.  Nothing will change.

But it did change a little bit.  They barely saw each other.  Their classes had separate lunch periods.  Their interests were different.  Rick joined the school newspaper and creative writing club, while Kate took up track and field and model debate.  They didn’t always take the bus home together, sitting side by side.  Sometimes they skipped hanging out on weekends because they had too much homework.  Of course, they were still friendly when they passed each other in the hallway.  But every time he passed, Kate felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.  She found herself looking out her window at his treehouse and wondering if he was up there, working on his latest story.

It surprised her the week before school let out for the summer, when he approached her after his lunch period.  “Hey, Kate, I have to tell you something.”

She hugged her books closer and pulled him to the side of the hallway, so he was out of the way.  “Okay.  Shoot.”

She could see him bite the inside of his cheek, and his eyes drifted down to the floor.  “It’s just…”  He fought to get the words out, his feet shuffling as he raised his eyes to meet hers.  “The first day of summer vacation.  Can we maybe do something?  Just the two of us?”

Taking in his body language and awkward question, Kate’s mouth fell open.  “Richard Rogers, are you asking me on a date?”

His head fell again and she couldn’t see his face.  “Something like that, I guess.”

A million thoughts went through her head.  First and foremost being that he was almost like a brother to her, and that was weird.  But she also kept drifting back to the summer before, sitting up in that treehouse with him, resting on him, the jealousy she felt at even the idea of another girl up there with him.  She didn’t want to ruin what they had.  But she couldn’t see herself with anyone else.  “Let’s do it.”

He looked up at her, nodding, but he didn’t seem as excited as she was.  No, instead he looked nervous, his face paler than she’d ever seen it.  “Okay.  Great.  I’ll meet you at your place.”  His shoulders hunched up as he turned, running to his next class.

She didn’t see him again for that last week of school.  He caught rides with some of his friends from the newspaper, she would get picked up by her mother.  In a way, Kate liked that more.  It built the anticipation.

He showed up at her house at four the day of their date.  He was dressed in a nice button down shirt, a bouquet of hand-picked flowers in his hand.  As Kate opened the door, he thrust his hand forward.  “I picked these for your table.”

Kate could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, and she bit back the giant grin that was threatening to make her look like a fool.  “Thank you.”  She responded, taking them from him and leading him to the kitchen.

Her Mom met them in there.  She was preparing dinner, her case files open on the counters as she tried to multi-task.  As if she had eyes in the back of her head, she whirled around as they entered, a grin on her face that made Kate turn red from embarrassment.  “Hello Ricky, it’s so nice to see you again!  What are the plans for tonight?”

“Well, I was thinking of going to Anne’s for some ice cream, then a concert on the common, and maybe some stargazing.”  At the word ‘stargazing,’ Kate’s heart began to flutter as she remembered that night almost a year before.

Johanna just nodded, leaning against the counter.  “And she’ll be home by ten?”

He nodded once.  “Yes ma’am.”

This caused her mother to laugh, her shoulders dropping as she relaxed.  “Please, Ricky, I’ve known you since you were in diapers.  Don’t call me ‘ma’am.’”

“Don’t call me ‘Ricky’ and I’ll drop the ‘ma’am’.”

Johanna reached for his hand and shook it firmly, her jaw set, but a smile creeping into the corners of her mouth.  “Deal.”  She looked at the clock before flicking a towel in their direction.  “Now go!  It’s getting late.  Have fun!”

Kate locked hands with Rick as they ran out of the house.  “Bye, Mom!”  She called over her shoulder.

Anne’s was the best small town ice cream shop in the state.  All the ice cream was made by hand, and they had all the staple toppings.  The stand was small, with plenty of open field space to sit, along with a few tables and a fenced in area for especially buggy nights.  They got theirs to go, choosing to walk with it to the downtown common.

Rick was uncharacteristically quiet.  It made her uncomfortable.  He had trouble meeting her eyes as she spoke, and the rare smiles he gave her held just the tiniest hint of sadness.

She didn't get the chance to ask him about it.  Her words were cut off by the community band, a sweeping start to their opening number, including the trilling piccolos.  This kind of stuff drew him in.  Martha was a music teacher, and his house was almost never silent.  He always knew every song the bands were playing without the aid of a program.  He also had quite a bit of knowledge about musical theater.  It was just one of those quirks about him that Kate had begun to find interesting.

On their walk back to his place, he talked about the final issue of the school newspaper, and what it was like to earn that coveted, and of the year interview with the Principal.  When he began to talk about his creative writing club though, his face out up, more than it had all night.  “Tell me about the story you're working on now.”  Kate requested, hoping it would loosen him up.

It seemed to work.  It was a high school story with a cheating scandal, where friendships were tested and strengthened.  He grew more excited as he told her about the characters, continuing to look behind him to gauge her reactions as they walked through his backyard. “There’s Henry who is kind of like me.  Creative and kind of a slacker, who would rather draw pictures in class than take notes.”

Kate called out to him as he climbed the ladder ahead of her.  “Do you write stories during class?”

He leaned over the edge and smirked down at her as she climbed up.  “I'm gonna plead the fifth on that, counselor.”

When she reached the top, she found him leaning against some pillows, his eyes trained on the sky through the window.  Crawling over to him, she found the spot next to him set up just right so she could squish right into his side and still have plenty of room.  Kate didn’t know anything about what she was looking at.  She could find Orion, but so could everyone else.  She loved doing this with Rick because he could identify more constellations than anyone she knew.  He told their stories with such detail, no book ever did it the same way.  Even Rick never told the same story the same way.  It never felt like they were doing the same thing again.

Today Rick didn’t talk about the constellations.  Instead, he talked about the character in his book that he based off of her.  “Her name is Alison.  Ali for short.  She looks like you.  I picture her looks on your face when I write her.”  His arm tightened around her.  “She and Henry have been friends since kindergarten.  He tells her everything.  She is his rock throughout this whole scandal.  In fact, because she knows he didn’t cheat, she’s been helping to tutor him all along because she’s smart.  She wants to be the first female Chief Justice just like you.”

Kate laughed, pulling her head off his shoulder.  “So basically, you just put me in a book and changed my name?”

His eyes narrowed.  “Is that okay?”

She grinned.  “I think it’s great.  I’m honored to be a part of something so great.”  She watched him as his eyes drifted from her eyes, down to her mouth, and back up again.  Subconsciously, Kate pulled her lips between her teeth, her stomach filling with butterflies as she looked away from him.  He seemed equally as uncomfortable, and switched the conversation to Cassiopeia.  Which then shifted to the valiant rescue of Andromeda by Perseus.

Hearing him describe this rescue brought her back to the days of make believe in the sand pit.  “You used to rescue me from monsters.”

He chuckled.  “Plenty of times you rescued yourself.  You didn’t need my help.”

“Yeah, but the sentiment was nice.”  

They laughed together, and she saw his eyes again drift down to her mouth.  It made her heart pound in her head, and her hands shake, but before long she was leaning forward, her mouth puckered and her eyes closing as she braced for impact.

He spoke before it happened. “I’m moving.”

It felt like the world had stopped.  As she backed away from him, the butterflies in her stomach turned into emptiness.  “Moving?  To where?”

His shoulders slumped.  “New York City.  Mother got a part on Broadway.”

She moved so she wasn’t touching him, her arms dropping to her sides.  A part on Broadway, that was what would take her best friend from her.  It shouldn’t have been a surprise.  Martha went to auditions all the time.  But for fifteen years she had been the town’s elementary school music teacher, and at some point, Kate stopped believing it could happen.  “When?”  It was all she could make sense of.  Her head was screaming a million different questions.

“Two weeks.”

“So this wasn’t a date.  Or at least, it wasn’t supposed to be a date.”  She tried to hide the disdain in her voice, but it crept through anyway.  “You let me think it was.”

“No!  Well, yes, sort of, but no!  I didn’t mean for it to go like this.”  Under different circumstances, she would have laughed at him.  The boy with the ability to string words together to tell stories she couldn’t even dream of was struggling to find them.  “I wanted to tell you in the hall that day.  But in the moment, I realized that this wasn’t news you dropped on your best friend in the middle of the day when we can’t talk about it.  So I wanted to do it while we were alone.”

“On a date?”

“No!  I didn't mean for this to be a date.”  His words cut through her heart, and he must have seen her face crumple, because he started stammering all over again.  “Wait, no, that's not what I meant!  Can you let me explain?”

She scoffed, moving away from the spot he had set up for her, and sitting right under the window, so she could see him better, and get out easier if she needed to.  “You better explain.  Because I'm lost.”

His hands ran through his hair, and his eyes fixated on the sky above her as he planned out what he was trying to say.  “Kate, I've wanted to ask you on a date since the last time we both sat up here together, stargazing.  I was gathering the courage to.”

She watched as he shrunk, his shoulders sinking and his arms wrapping around his knees.  “Why didn’t you?”  She asked, her voice still accusatory.

“You started talking about me bringing other girls up here, like you and I weren’t even an option.  And I started to doubt you saw me the same way I saw you.  So I chickened out.  Then we saw less of each other at school, and we didn’t get together every weekend like we used to.  I didn’t think it was meant to be anymore.”  He scratched the back of his head, and stretched out his muscles.  “But then Mom got that part, and I realized how hard it was going to be, to live in a new place with you so far away.  And I wanted to spend as much time as possible with you.  When you suggested a date, I just went with it.”

She threw her head back until it thumped against the wall.  “Worst first date ever.  You didn’t even let me kiss you!”  She chuckled, looking at him and shaking her head.  “You’ve ruined me for boys for a bit.”

He laughed back, the corners of his mouth just starting to pull upwards.  “I know.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t lie.  Yeah you did.”  He laughed then, and relief washed over her.  The air cleared, she moved back over to her spot next to him.  His arm wrapped around her, and he pulled her into his chest.

After a moment, he spoke.  “We can still be friends, right?  You can come visit me in the city whenever you want, Mother already agreed.  And you can call me whenever.  I’ll send a letter with my new number.”

This statement broke her a little, but she bit back her tears as she answered.  “You’re my best friend.  Always.  You living in a different city won’t change that.”  Even though it pained her that this would be nothing more, even she knew that long distance relationships never worked.  Especially brand new ones.

“Good.  I’m sorry about our date.”

“You would have had to tell me at some point.”  They stayed there for only a few minutes more, until his watch beeped and told her it was time to go home.

The next day, she helped him move all of his things out of the treehouse, and helped box up his room.  She returned almost every day for those two weeks to help.  They never discussed their almost kiss.  They didn’t talk about their failed date with anyone.  He talked about the school he was going to in the city, she discussed joining the Model UN, and they both managed to avoid talking about their feelings.

The day he moved, he gave her a rough draft of his story, the one with the character based on her in it.  He dedicated it to her, and put it in a binder so she could read it as many times as she wanted.  He hugged her tight until it was time to leave.  As he pulled away, Kate felt the ghost of his lips on the top of her head.  She didn’t let the tears fall until the moving truck was out of sight.

[mtg-weekly-recap]

MTG Weekly Tumblr Recap - Volume 1, Issue 1

Wanted to doodle something silly!  Saheeli prob love cats <3 

Original art by @isharton | Please support them at their Patreon!

Welcome to the very first issue of the MTG Weekly Tumblr Recap of the new year! For those unfamiliar with what we do, the MTG Weekly Tumblr Recap is a gathering of some of the most notable posts and trends from within the MTG Tumblr community for a given week. For this issue, we will be covering the week of January 8, 2017 through January 14, 2017. If you are interested in joining our writing team, please PM any of our writers and we will add you to our Discord group chat.

1. Banned & Restricted Update Discussion

Original image posted by @sarkhan-volkswagen

Wizards of the Coast announced bannings this past week, and I can’t say I’m surprised. Emrakul, the Promised End, Smuggler’s Copter, and Reflector Mage were banned in Standard, while Modern bans were simply Gitaxian Probe and Golgari Grave-Troll. There have been mixed feelings about these bans: many people were annoyed and upset that their favourite cards were banned, while others were quite relieved.

Emrakul, the Promised End, the final titan to be released, and the first to be banned. According to WotC, Emrakul was “created to be scarily powerful,” and “delivered on that promise too well.” @ugin guessed that “if an Emrakul hit the field, I would guess that approximately 90% of the time that person would win.” Scarily powerful indeed, and this was made even more scary with cards like Aetherworks Marvel. As a counterpoint, @life-is-short-for-us said that it isn’t unbeatable, but didn’t suggest how to actually beat it. Instead, he simply said that for Standard, it isn’t about “banning cards that are too good, but banning cards that are so good they are damn near impossible to beat and your only hope is playing the mirror match and they are like 70% of the field.”

This brings us to our second card banned, Smuggler’s Copter. While I don’t play much Standard, this one annoyed the hell out of me, and now that it’s banned, I’m kinda relieved. For this one, Wizards says that it was in too many of the top decks and was restricting creativity. I agree, as does @queen-marchesa: “The one that is least surprising is the Copter. It really was too omnipresent in Standard to allow for exploration or creativity.” I have always thought that the Looter Scooter was too powerful for a turn-two artifact, which helped turn the format stale.

Our final Standard banning was Reflector Mage. There’s not much to say about this one, really, and I think it was one of the odder bannings. Wizards says that, “Our data showed the White-Blue Flash deck was too powerful against the field,and Reflector Mage has been on players' lists of most-disliked cards, since the days of Collected Company.” I suppose when you take down decks with Emrakul and Copter, W/U Flash would be the one to dominate. Tumblr users agreed, with one stating, “The card ended up being very effective in this format.” Others thought it was a surprising ban, but seeing that it’s stuck around for so long, “makes sense.”

As for the Modern bans, let’s start with Gitaxian Probe. This one is one of the least surprising to me, as it takes some skill out of the game. According to @jurou-tenshi, “Git probe has had it coming for a long time. It enabled too many degenerate strategies.” @avatar-of-woah states, “Probe’s actually a real issue in infect because it takes play skill out of the equation. Instead of trying to read your opponent and what they could have that would beat you, you just pay two life,” and proceed from there. According to @urzas-raven-armour, “With the probe ban, storm is even less playable now.” I would assume that this ban also hits Delver decks, but I don’t know enough about them.

The final ban released this week was Golgari Grave-Troll, and from what I have found, people are glad to see it go. One user said that “Dredge is a silly silly deck that has proven to be too powerful for Modern,” and with the Delve mechanic brought back in Khans of Tarkir, I agree. Golgari Grave-Troll is a creature with Dredge 6, and it enters the battlefield with counters equal to the number of creatures in the graveyard. You can also pay one generic mana and remove a counter to regenerate it. Now, that seems extremely powerful to me, especially in the late game, where you’ll most likely have a lot of creatures in your graveyard, but it is definitely the Dredge 6 that puts it over the top, enabling way too many graveyard shenanigans.

--- Connor S, @solemnly-mystifying

2. This Past Week’s Magic Story Review

Kari Zev - playing around with a doodle. | Original art by @sketchydoodles​

In this past week’s new Kaladesh Story “The Skies Over Ghirapur,” by Ari Levitch, we were introduced to the feisty teenage pirate captain, Kari Zev. In this story Kari Zev and Jace Beleren team up to assist the renegades, first by going on a heist to obtain aether, then to help the renegades take on the Skysovereign after they lost control of the Aether Hub in the story “Burn.”

The Tumblr community met this story with overwhelmingly positive reviews. The community adored the tenacity of Kari Zev and her sidekick, the monkey Ragavan. Tumblr user @zomburai claimed that the story was a delight. Others, like @abzanascendancy, were most excited about sky pirates. They also applauded Kari Zev for being 15, yet also being able to “pilot, command and crew her own ship.” Community members were even more excited about pirates then they were already, and some probably hope that a pirate-themed block will come along in the not-too-distant future.

With only three stories left in the Aether Revolt storyline, the MTGcommunity is anxiously waiting to see what happens next, with the Gatewatch’s final confrontation with Tezzeret and the Consulate, and what else that is in store for the plane of Kaladesh.

--- Chelsea W, @chelsea-beleren-vess

3. General Magic Story Discussion and Speculation

Deploy the Gatewatch | Original art by Wesley Burt

This week has been rife with Magic Story metadiscourse, from speculation for the future, to reflection on the past. Fans discussed Nissa’s shift toward tolerance in Magic Origins, and whether or not this made her a “Mary Sue”, prompting @commandtower-solring-go’s analysis of the term and its relationship to Magic [x]. On the other side, @chelsea-beleren-vess compiled potential points of civil war foreshadowing [x]

Prior to her Origins revision, Nissa, like most elves, believed that elves reigned superior over other races, and moreover her band of elves above even other elves. When her backstory was updated, these biases were no longer present. Lots of fans were upset by this. They missed their little racist, which is a little distressing, honestly. It’s important we ask ourselves why it’s so important for her to be hateful. This led one user to ask @markrosewater why the Gatewatch was composed of “Mary Sues.” By and large, “Mary Sue” is a term used to degrade a character for being all-powerful or infallible. This term really doesn’t describe the Gatewatch. Take Gideon, who was too proud and got his Irregulars killed, then repeated the mistake on Zendikar. Look at Jace --- neglectful of his duty as the Guildpact, and by even his own admission, annoying and pretentious as all hell. Liliana is, well, Liliana. Chandra has consistently been short-sighted and rash; she has consistently endangered the lives of the people she cares about, including the Gatewatch (see “In This Very Arena” and “Burn”). Nissa has been altoether aloof and unable to relate to her teammates, and was made to suffer immensely over the course of the Battle for Zendikar storyline.

Wizards could be setting the stage for a civil war within the Gatewatch, ala Marvel. In this hypothetical confrontation, Gideon leads one side, while Jace rallies his allies. Who will side with whom is anyone’s guess, but I’m personally partial to Chandra, Nissa, Gideon, and Ajani squaring off against Jace and Lili, but this is clouded by my distaste for Lili and her relationship with Jace, so take what I say with a grain of salt.

--- Nick D, @nick-dowdle-jeskai-judicator​

4. Incoming WoTC President Chris Cocks’ Digital Tease

Glimpse the Future | Original art by Andrew Robinson

Last Thursday, the President of Wizards of the Coast, Chris Cocks, released a public statement regarding the future of WotC’s IP, concentrating on the following points:

Reimagining digital versions of Magic and other Wizards games.

Bringing their characters and worlds to other games and experiences.

Making people’s Wizards experiences more efficient, connected, and convenient.

What most Tumblrs seemed to latch onto was the idea of Magic: the Gathering or Dungeons and Dragons branded video games, and many people wanted to share their thoughts on the matter.

@simic-initiate said, “I’ve no doubt irritated many friends by consistently insisting that Magic has a criminally underused mythos and cast of characters. Wizards does SO much world building each plane that just, hardly gets used again if ever.” [x]

@planeswalkerwithtardis suggests, “Persona JRPG with MtG characters as the personas, color combinations replace arcana. It would also hedge Wizard’s bets by crossing their customer base for that product with the ever hungry Persona fan base.” [x]

@youknowwhatscrewyou went a different direction: “I would love an mtg fighting game, similar to smash bros or something, so that is not too competitive and allows for some fun, crazy stuff.” [x]

@mixingmetaphorsoup also thinks MMOs are a hiding to nothing: “What? Throwing spells at a Planeswalker in an MMO? Surely you mean MOBA. As I’ve said before, Magic fits perfectly into a MOBA shell.” [x]

What video game genre do you think would make a good Magic game?

--- Liam W, @coincidencetheories

BONUS! “LILIANA VESS - MAGIC THE GATHERING.” Original art by @lunardays22

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Thank you again for reading this week’s issue of the MTG Weekly Tumblr Recap. If you are interested in contributing to the Recap, either by keeping track of notable posts and trends throughout the MTG community on a given week, or writing a short blurb on a specific topic, please PM our main editor @the-burnished-hart or any of our staff writers.

[jamiekturner]

Personal Logo Design Ideas: How to Create Your Own

Personal logo design may seem the easiest thing at first, but you may soon discover that you are your most difficult client.

When you’re a designer, crafting branding masterpieces for clients leaves little time to think of your own promotion.

Yet, a good personal brand logo is something you can’t dismiss if you want people to know about you.

Personal logos are, in fact, the key elements of your brand identity.

As someone who’s mastered this art, you have the ability to manipulate all important building blocks, and bring those together in a unique piece that reflects who you truly are. With a personal logo design, you can proudly share your work with potential clients, colleagues, and employers.

Give your personal brand an identity

Personal logo designs help professionals build up their reputation, and showcase the personality of their work. They use logos to let customers know the niche in which they operate, the specific design trends they follows, and the unique aspects of their work. Consider how you want to be perceived as a designer.

Once you’ve chosen the style of your logo, you’ve determined the branding direction for all other promotional materials, including your business card, resume, portfolios, social media pages, and even user icons. In a single tiny visual package you’ll be showing the world who you are, and what you’re doing the best.

You should of course look at the work of other designers and get inspired, but once you get down to your work, you must think of designing a personal logo different from anything customers have ever seen.

While creating a personal logo, start by making your name (or initials) clearly visible, and memorable for both clients and employers. Next, think of a way to associate them with the unique set of skills you’re trying to sell to your audience.

Speaking of skills, you need to select a limited number and emphasize them in the right way, as for instance your ability to work with industrial equipment, or the experience serving a particular industry.

You can also include an image in your personal logo, and add the text afterwards, as long as the image gets down to the point (do your customers really care about your personal hobbies, and how do hobbies show them you’re qualified for the job?).

With personal logos, less is more. Personal logos designs should be understandable and simple, and get the job done without excess wording and detailing. You don’t need too many colours or fonts put up together, as this may hide the message you’re conveying, and make customers struggle to understand it.

One or two colors will suffice for an intricate logo design, and will make it much easier to replicate the work on other promotional materials.

So, how to design a personal logo? To make the process easier for you, we collated some of the best tips, tricks, and personal logo ideas from around the world, and listed them in a handy guide. Check it out:

Make your personal logo design unique

Looking at the best personal logo designs, we’d all arrive to the same conclusion – these masterworks are unique! Even when working with their bare initials (which, of course, happen to be many people’s initials), talented designers found a way to inject their creative personality, and the market appreciated that in no time.

To do the same, you have to think out of the box, and focus on the things that make your brand memorable.

Doodle

A heads-up: It will take to prepare and dismiss multiple personal logo examples before you scratch on the final product. In the meanwhile, all ideas and suggestions are welcomed, while the pressure of reinventing the wheel is not.

Doodling is a great way to launch your creative journey, as this way you’ll have all ideas documented on paper, and you’ll be a step closer to the ideal logo with every sketch you make.

Stay flexible

A good designer knows there’s always room for improvement. This means you should give your logo a try on different backgrounds and in different settings, and scale it up and down for maximal visibility. It may turn out that a simple black and white logo is the best option you’ve got!

Another challenge for a designer in charge will be to create a logo that looks equally well wherever it appears, which means the designs should be adaptable, and look nicely on all sorts of branding materials. We remind you once again: The simplest ideas often turn out to be the best ones!

Build up your own reputation

Personal logo designs are very individualized pieces of work, and have the sole task of conveying what a designer stands for. Rather than rethinking the entire purpose of life and figuring out your values, you should build up a picture of yourself customers would like to see.

The process comes quite close to adjusting your clothing to your personality: you will either opt for a relaxed and casual combination, or a sophisticated piece that will make your look elegant and formal. It all comes down to collecting visual, written, and verbal adjustments, and combining them in a distinct perception.

Familiarize with your audience and your competitors

Launching a design career is pretty much the same as starting up any type of business – you have to target an audience for your services, and get to know what they want so that you can provide it.

While there is nothing wrong with working on your own ideas and developing unique concepts, you should always keep track of who’s going to see them, and how they’d feel about them.

Collect information and craft the profile of an ideal consumer – who he is, what he likes or dislikes, what he stands for, and which brands he’s already associated with. This will help you put a face to your prospective customers, and respond to their exact requirements.

Don’t forget that your competitors also have a role in building up this profile. Which are the best brands in your surroundings, and how do customers usually associate with them?

Are there any designers whose style and skills are similar to yours, and which are the weaknesses you could use to your advantage? Quite often, a competitor’s analysis will reveal the answer of which market gap you’re supposed to close.

Double-meaning logos

This won’t be easy to explain with words, but the best personal logo designs are the ones that have double, or even triple meaning. To give you he clear picture, we will use an example: a logo that contains the word ‘pause’ written in plain letters could get a whole new meaning by using two parallel lines instead of the letter ‘u’ (the video-player symbol for a pause).

These clever inventions are quite common in successful logos, and you should be thinking of one of your own.

Use it as much as you can

A properly designed personal logo will underline your reputation of a professional designer, which is why you need it showcased on all your working assets and materials.

Place it on top of the resume, feature it on each page in your portfolio, and print business cards with it. Better yet, make sure employers spot it easily on social media, and this will help you make a lasting impression.

Start with a creative brief

When creating a personal logo, think of yourself as any other client you’ve worked with. Don’t jump headfirst into your task, but think of the brand identity first, and set the town in line with your audiences’ needs. Research your competitors, and keep track of your budget so that your project won’t go out of control.

Getting inspired

You can find logo inspiration literally everywhere, starting with competing brands in the industry and moving to all types of web collections you come across. Yet, the best shot you’ve got is to look at yourself and what you stand for, and try to depict that hidden meaning you wish customers would know about.

Ending thoughts on personal logo design

Coming up with an attractive logo is the ultimate task of every professional designer. Personal logos are critical parts of every branding strategy, and are used to communicate both the skills and the quality of work that designer has to offer.

If you liked this article about personal logo design, you should check out these as well:

Music Logo Designs

Vintage Logo Design

Restaurant Logo Designs: Tips, Best Practices, and Inspiration

Cool Logos: Design, Ideas, Inspiration, and Examples

Logos on Pinterest

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