#and he would be into digital drawing and photography

[vilnan]

do you ever think about what kind of lives your dragon age ocs had if they lived in a modern AU

[colleendoran]

How Do I Do Stuff

The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.

I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.

Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.

I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.

I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.

This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.

I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.

This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.

But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.

He's pretty, too.

If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.

Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.

Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.

Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.

However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.

Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.

The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.

Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.

I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.

While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.

So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.

If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.

Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.

Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.

So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.

[disillusioneddanny]

If It Makes You Happy (then why the hell are you so sad?)

Tim took a bite of his ravioli and looked around the table at his family. It was Sunday dinner. A monthly tradition where every member of the family adopted or otherwise came to spend a few hours together. It didn’t matter who was arguing with whom, or how estranged from the family you were at the time. You still had to attend the monthly family dinner. However, there were times when Tim wondered if anyone would notice if he stopped attending. If he no longer came to the dinners where he sat mostly unnoticed by the rest of his family. Where he typically sat in silence, having not uttered a single word throughout the entire event. Would they ever realize he was gone? Did they even realize he was there in the first place? 

A part of Tim truly doubted it, if he was being completely honest with himself. Maybe that was why he hadn’t been able to share with the family his upcoming exhibit. 

Tim was in his fourth year of college. Where he was getting a degree in Art, Technology, and Culture. It was a major that allowed Tim to immerse himself in photography, video art, creative coding, and so much more. He had gotten to work in traditional analog and digital photography. Played around with film and art in ways he had never thought of before while also learning about cultural theory, the expression of ideas, and cultural practices which gave him the chance to truly discover himself. It was the first time he had ever chosen something for himself. 

His entire life he had been groomed to run a business. To at first take over Drake Industries one day and then later Wayne Enterprises where he was unfortunately CEO. But then he had learned about the ATC program at Gotham University and he had fallen in love with it.  He had always been obsessed with photography and even film later on as he grew older and spent his days alone in dusty old Drake Manor. And he had always loved to learn about cultures, he ate up the stories from his parents and their trips abroad. Had spent countless nights watching the people of Gotham and how they did things, and had absorbed it all like a sponge to make up for the fact that he was just a lonely boy living in a manor by himself. 

Even when he had joined the Bats and had made his tiny little place with them, he still fell back on his love for learning about others and his desire to tell their stories. It had just become an intrinsic part of Timothy Drake. 

And now here he was, slowly creeping to the finish line. He had his senior showcase coming up. A requirement for all students who were receiving a bachelor of fine arts. He was to show off all of his best work from the last four years. It was a chance for him to show everything he had learned, and to display his work with pride. 

He had toyed with the idea of inviting everyone to it. To let them see the love that Tim had cultivated over the last four years. He was set to graduate in just a few months and the pride he felt for himself was tremendous. And if Tim invited the Wayne family to his senior showcase, then maybe they could come to his college graduation and share the achievement with them then too. 

It was a big time in Tim’s life and he wanted to share it with them. 

He listened as a lull came in the conversation and carefully cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the others. 

“I have a senior showcase this weekend for my BFA. It’s at six in the evening in the Wayne Arts Center on Gotham Campus. I would be happy to see you all there,” he said hesitantly, eyes firmly trained on his plate of food. 

“That sounds nice, Tim. I’ll try to be there,” Bruce said politely before going back to his conversation with Jason and Dick. Tim felt eyes on him, though, and slowly looked up to find his little brother giving him a curious look. 

“What?” He asked, still trying to calm his heart just a bit. He still wasn’t sure why he came to these things, why he was even here. Just talking to the Waynes gave him anxiety. Just being here reminded him how much he didn’t belong. How other he was compared to the rest of the kids that Bruce had adopted? 

Damian tilted his head to the side. “I was not aware that you were getting your Bachelor's in Fine Arts. Will you tell me about your degree program? I have been thinking about getting an Art History degree but have been torn between that and a business degree.”

Tim gave him a small smile and rested his chin on his hand as he started to tell Damian all about his degree and how he was enjoying the program at Gotham University. The rest of the family went on to their own conversations while Damian listened with rapt attention to Tim describing the ATC program at Gotham U. 

The rest of the week was a whirlwind as he prepared for his senior showcase, he had sent out invitations to everyone he wanted to come see his work. The Team had already made a reservation to take Tim to lunch before the showcase before helping him get everything ready. And as the day came to be, they had made good on their word, taking him to his favorite Vietnamese restaurant in Gotham before taking him to the gallery. He blushed as he listened to his three best friend gush over his artwork, as they listened to him explain each piece. They asked questions and made remarks about what their favorite pieces were and even tried to buy a few pieces only for Tim to promise to give each of them prints of his photos. 

The three had left with quick goodbyes, each one giving Tim a hug and congratulating him before they made their way from the gallery. The rest of the evening dragged on as people came by and asked Tim about his photos and the small films that played on the movie screen on one wall. He smiled and explained each photo to anyone who asked. He had wanted to showcase his vigilante photos of the bats and birds but it had been too much of a risk to do so. 

Instead he had shown off his photos that showcased all of his favorite parts of Gotham. From the beautiful gothic architecture, the gargoyles that looked out over the city. He showed the photos from the last time Ivy had thrown a fit in Robinson Park and covered the entirety of the grounds with flowers. He showed the pictures of community from Crime Alley and the beauty of the strength of Gothamites who had managed to survive the worst of the worst. 

He also featured pictures of his family, of Dick hanging from a chandelier, of Damian training Titus to do a trick. He had a picture of Bruce, Alfred, and Jason sitting side by side as they each read a different book. One showed Cass as she posed for the camera in her favorite ballet form. They were some of his most treasured memories, there for everyone to see and enjoy. Tucker between the one of Damian and the one of Dick was a photo of Tim. He had taken forever to set up the camera and get the timer right. Alfred had simply chuckled the entire time as he continued to offer to take the picture for Tim but no one was meant to be behind the camera for that picture. It was the only family portrait of his entire family. Cass, Damian, Tim, Dick, Jason, Bruce, Alfred, they all sat smushed into a single couch together, wide smiles and laughs on each of their faces as Tim beamed from the far side, leaning into Alfred’s side. 

The gallery was meant to showcase culture that was important to Tim. To showcase the life that he loved and treasured. And even if he never felt like he quite fit in the Wayne Family, even though he knew that he was the expendable one, the replacement, he still treasured his family. It was why he had invited them, he had wanted them to see just how important they were to Tim. And maybe they would realize he was important to them too.

Only, the rest of the evening seemed to drag on, and not a single person from his family ever stepped through the door. He waited, shoulders tensed and smile polite. Every bit the gentleman that Janet Drake had trained him to be as he stood with his hands clasped in front of him. He kept glancing at the clock, waiting for Bruce or Dick or someone to walk through the doors, to say hello and look at all the work that Tim had put in the last four years in college. The hours ticked by until it was nearing ten pm and the gallery started to clear out, custodians came in and started to clean up around him. 

Tim cast one final look at the doors before he turned to his photos and started to take one off of the wall. 

“Master Timothy! I am so sorry that we are late,” a voice said and Tim quickly to find Alfred and Damian walking through the doors of the gallery. A small smile spread on Tim’s face as Damian bound forward. 

“I apologize,” Damian said softly, staring up at Tim with disgruntled eyes. “I got into an argument with Father and then Titus scared Alfred the Cat and we spent the last three hours searching for that blasted cat and when we realized the time we came straight here,” he said. “What did the others think of your exhibit?”

Tim’s smile fell and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “They uh, they didn’t show up,” he said quietly. “But if you’d like, you guys are the last ones to show up. I’d love to show you everything.”

Alfred’s face fell at that as he stepped forward and clasped a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “That is their loss, my dear boy. I would love to see your work,” he said. Before he could stop himself, Tim pulled Alfred in for a tight hug, burying his face in the old butler’s chest as he held him close. 

“Thank you,” he whispered before pulling away. He glanced down at Damian and smiled. “How about I show you my work and then if my advisor is still here you can meet her and talk to her about the ATC program.”

The fourteen-year-old nodded his head once. “I would appreciate that,” he said before grabbing Tim’s hand hesitantly. He followed quietly as Tim showed them his pictures of Gotham, explaining the stories behind each one before he showed them his favorite pictures. His pictures of home and both men let out soft gasps as they looked at them. 

“Master Timothy, these are beautiful,” Alfred said, stepping forward to take in the picture of him, Bruce, and Jason. 

“The lighting for this is amazing, I did not know that I even smiled like that,” Damian said softly as he took in the picture of him smiling at Titus. 

“Oh Tim,” Alfred said quietly, losing all strict politeness that Alfred held so dear to his heart as he took in the family portrait. “This is amazing, Timothy. So absolutely perfect. I remember when you took this photograph. It was right after Thanksgiving dinner last year.”

“I was so irritated, Todd had gotten mashed potatoes in my hair,” Damian said with a huff, a small smile tugged on his face. 

“I did not even realize that Master Richard and Master Jason were hugging in this picture,” Alfred said, a soft smile sti on his face as he took in the way Dick had his arms wrapped around Jason’s shoulders, a wide smile on his face as he laughed at something Jason had said. A small smile sat on Jason’s face, his eyes brighter than Tim had seen since the older man had come back from the dead. 

Alfred tore his eyes from the picture. “How much?” he asked. 

Tim blinked. “What?”

“How much for the picture?” Alfred asked him, turning back to the family portrait. 

“For you?” Tim asked, blinking again in surprise. “Free of charge, considering it a thank you for coming to my senior showcase.”

“I would like this one of Titus and me,” Damian piped up. “It would be lovely on my desk in my bedroom.”

Tim sniffed, his chest tightening slightly. “I would be more than happy to give you both the original copies.”

“Timothy,” Alfred said, turning back to Tim, that soft, kind, smile on his face once again. “I am so incredibly proud of you.”

The vigilante’s eyes burned furiously. “I-I thank you,” he said, a soft sob slipped out of his mouth before small arms wrapped around him. Damian hugged him tight, his face pressed against Tim’s chest. 

“I am so sorry that our family forgot to come to your showcase, Timothy,” he said stiffly. “You are incredibly talented and it is their loss for missing out on this.”

Tim pressed a hand to Damian’s back, feeling tears building behind his eyes that threatened to spill over. “Thank you,” he whispered. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he looked around and spotted his advisor. “There’s Professor Maheshawen. She’s my advisor. We can go talk to her and you can ask your questions, okay?”

Damian nodded and pulled away carefully, smoothing down the front of his sweater before he followed after Tim to meet his professor. Leaving Alfred to continue staring at the pictures with a kind smile on his face.

Alfred Pennyworth looked at the smiles on his charges faces and let out a breath. One of these days, Bruce and the others would realize just how important Timothy was to their family, how he was the one who held them all together. He only hoped that they would not realize that lesson too late in life. At the very least, Damian was now starting to understand just how wonderful Timothy Drake was. 

[canmom]

How do you live?

I (finally!) saw Miyazaki's new film 君たちはどう生きるか (How Do You Live?/The Boy and the Heron)! It's been out in the States for a while, and in Japan considerably longer, but it took a while to make its way over here.

I remember at the time it came out, people were having fun riffing on the incredibly cryptic marketing campaign, which consisted only of this rather abstract poster...

In the spirit of this, I resolutely avoided watching any trailers or knowing anything at all about the plot of the film. I picked up a thing or two here and there - I knew to expect some amazing Shinya Ohira animation for example, and you couldn't really avoid seeing the bird with teeth! - but overall, I had no idea.

There's plenty of great writing about this film in English already, such as kvin's fantastic sakugablog piece which discusses the physicality of Ghibli's animation, its weight and springiness, as a throughline. The stuff that kvin talks about really stood out to me as I watched this film. You can likewise read detailed interviews with Toshiyuki Inoue (fantastic interview for sakubutas) and Akihiko Yamashita on fufuro.

First up, the credits of this film are pretty much a who's who of the greatest jp animators of the last 30 years, and they've had some 7 years to cook it, so naturally this film looks fucking amazing. This is absolutely the kind of film that only Miyazaki could direct - its design language feels so familiar and yet it's iterating in all kinds of visually imaginative directions that show that yeah, the old bastard's still got it.

And like, god, man. This film's animation is really something special. Its real-world scenes in particular are full of shots that require an unbelievably strong sense of space, of both subtle and broad acting, the classic Ghibli attention to detail on mechanical objects and everyday tasks. It's full of bouncing and squishing and squeezing and oozing things. It loves to draw crowds and swarms of people and animals. It's the kind of film where any given shot would be the absolute star-of-the-show sakuga moment in just about any other anime film. If you wanted a complete statement of the Ghibli school of animation, it would be hard to do better.

And yet, for all that Miyazaki's known for his tight control over animation and heavy corrections to animators, in this film he had to step back from that kind of role and hand over the sousakkan reins to Takeshi Honda, who steps up admirably - as kvin writes above, bringing in more realist elements to the bouncy Miyazaki style to create a really effective unity that grounds all the big fantastical elements of the film and fills the first act with tension.

Alongside all that excellent key animation, the film's colour and photography departments evidently understand that well-chosen colours and good highlight shapes beat all the digital gradients and overlays you can imagine - the drawings get plenty of form from the strength of the animation, and the flat shading really pops. The backgrounds are as delicious as ever, skyscapes and vegetation and opulent interiors with the just-slightly desaturated and harmonious colours that just kind of remind you that oh yeah, it is still possible to do it this way.

Basically it's a Ghibli film lol. You know how it is.

But what of the story...? What's all this technical magic in service of?

The film's story has something of the feel of a serial story, perhaps reflecting Miyazaki's (in)famous process of working out the film gradually as he draws the storyboards. Certain ideas, like the parakeet empire, arrive in the film rather suddenly and then become fairly central to the plot. There's a clear emotional throughline, but this is not a film that is in a hurry to explain itself more than it absolutely has to. It wants to keep its magical elements numinous and mysterious. I would say, though, it's generally more satisfying in this approach than some of Miyazaki's other later films like Howl's Moving Castle, and resolves a lot more clearly.

So what is it like, About? Well, Miyazaki has been pretty open about channeling a lot of his personal relationships into the film, and a lot of it seems to reflect more or less obliquely on him. It's what they call a 'personal film'. The protagonist's position as the son of an aeroplane factory owner during WWII is straight-up from life. What about the old sorcerer, haphazardly stacking blocks to keep a world alive, and looking for someone to succeed him? The reading's kinda obvious, even if Miya himself says this guy is based on his memory of Takahata. Well, he can be both...

To say more I'm gonna have to delve into the spoiler zone. See you below the cut.

OK so! Let's try and get some thoughts in order.

first, a plot summary type of thing

Our first act introduces us to Mahito at roughly the moment his mother Hisako dies in a hospital fire. This is midway through the war, which is present mostly in the background - now and then we see soldiers marching around, and of course Mahito's dad runs a factory producing warplane parts, not entirely unlike Miyazaki's own father although seemingly a bit higher up the ladder.

We jump forward a little and Mahito's father remarries - to his deceased wife's sister, no less, and she's already pregnant. This is Natsuko, who does her best to play the role of mother, but Mahito still has big traumas and he is understandably not entirely on board with the idea of welcoming a mum 2 who looks almost exactly like mum 1. He moves with Natsuko into a huge old house complex, a mix of older Japanese architecture with a more recent Western wing where the family currently sleeps - and staffed by a small army of colourful old ladies who are eager for any canned meat or cigarettes they can get their hands on.

Also there's this freaky heron that keeps bothering Mahito. It seems to have something to do with a mysterious tower which turns out to have been built by his great-uncle. Mahito visits the tower, but can't make his way inside. Natsuko tells him not to go into the tower.

Mahito goes to school, but naturally they don't much take to the new rich kid on the block, and so after being attacked by his classmates on his way home he injures himself with a rock. (His dumbass dad is like, who did this to you son, I'll fuck 'em up.) For the rest of the movie, he has half his head shaved to accomodate a bandage, which is the sort of attention to detail this movie loves.

The heron has started growing teeth and talking to Mahito, telling him to come to the tower. Mahito is convinced it's a trap, and after a maybe-dream sequence in which Natsuko shoots an arrow to drive off the heron, he steals cigarettes from Natsuko in order to get one of the servants to sharpen his knife, and then constructs a bow and arrow out of bamboo - using a couple of the heron's feathers. Constructing the bow and arrow is shown in immense, loving detail.

In the process, he witnesses Natsuko walk into the forest, and also stumbles on a book: How Do You Live? by Genzaburō Yoshino, which contains a handwritten message from his mother. He looks at this book briefly... and this is about the extent of the connection of the film to the book, beyond thematic parallels.

The maids notice that Natsuko is missing. Mahito tells one of the maids, Kiriko, that he saw her go into the forest, and they follow, finding an old road that gives another approach to the tower. They're greated by the heron man, who is increasingly emerging from the heron's beak to reveal a big warty nose. He's some kind of like... heron selkie or something, a gnome in a heron skin. There's some wonderfully grotesque animation around this guy.

Heron dude taunts Mahito with an illusion of his mother Hisako. Mahito threatens him with the bow - the heron guy is like, do your worst, not realising it's a maaagic arrow. The arrow chases him around the room and pierces his beak, fucking up his magic. At this point, the tower master shows up and orders the heron to guide Mahito. Heron guy sends everyone through the floor into a fantastical world...

Mahito arrives in front of a huge, sinister tomb. He approaches the gate, and a swarm of pelicans walk up behind, crawling all over him and pressing him through the gate. This causes a storm to start brewing, since opening the gate seems to piss off the stones or something...

A fisher woman resembling a much younger Kiriko runs up and chases the pelicans away. She takes Mahito under her wing, explaining that this world is inhabited mostly by dead people, but there are also these little round guys called the wareware, who gain the ability to fly when they eat a fish's guts.

Kiriko, uniquely in this world, has the ability to kill, so she catches fish to sell to the other inhabitants and feed to the wareware; she and Mahito butcher a huge fish. Mahito fairly quickly figures out that she is somehow the same Kiriko that entered with him. She has tiny charms representing the other maids, which serve an apotropaic function.

That night, staying on Kiriko's huge derelict ship of a home, they watch the wareware rise into the sky to be born as humans in Mahito's world. They're attacked by the pelicans, but a fire-wielding magic user called Hisa (hmmmmmmmmmm) drives the pelicans away. Mahito shouts at her not to harm the wareware, but Kiriko assures him that more of the wareware will survive thanks to Hisa's intervention.

Later, a singed and dying pelican explains the pelicans' predicament to Mahito in a scene that calls to mind the animals in Mononoke-hime. The pelicans are foreigners in this world, they don't have anything to eat, so they take it as their role to eat the wareware. The heron man arrives on the scene too, offering to help Mahito find Natsuko as Mahito - coming in to his own as a protagonist more - buries the pelican. Mahito distrusts him but eventually Kiriko persuades them to give working together a try.

Mahito and the heron set out. As they pass through a forest, the heron reveals that thanks to Mahito's arrow, he can't fly and do heron shit anymore - and by magic law, only Mahito can fix the hole. Mahito applies his new woodworking skills to fashion a bung for the hole. The heron tries to stage a top 10 anime betrayal, but then the bung needs more work, so Mahito fixes it, and from that point on, the heron joins the party and he and Mahito are fast friends.

(You might wonder why I just call him 'the heron' and not by a name. He never gets named! He's just the heron man.)

Mahito and the heron arrive at the house of a blacksmith who's supposed to help them find Natsuko, only to find it guarded by big buff parakeet men. The parakeets are splendidly goofy round guys - they remind me of the heedra in Nausicaa. The heron draws the parakeets away, and Mahito enters the house, only to find, uh oh! More parakeets. The parakeets prepare to eat Mahito, who is not carrying a child and therefore fair game unlike Natsuko, but Hisa shows up and burns them with fire magic. She looks just like a young version of Mahito's mum! Funny that. Hisa helps Mahito escape into her house through the fire, and then takes him to infiltrate the parakeets' empire.

In the human world, the maids explain the backstory of the tower to Mahito's dad. It's a weird meteorite that came from space, it turns out, and Mahito's great-uncle built the tower on top of it before eventually disappearing inside. Mahito's dad overprepares in an elaborate getup complete with katana, and goes to try to rescue everyone.

Hisa leads Mahito to a corridor full of doors which open into all the different worlds, including his own world. Mahito briefly glimpses his dad coming to try and rescue him - the two see each other briefly, but the parakeets catch wind of the whole thing and attack, and so Mahito and Hisa have to flee back into the magical world. We see that the parakeet guys turn into regular parakeets when they come into the human world. Mahito's dad becomes convinced he turned into a parakeet.

Mahito and Hisa make their way to the delivery room where Natsuko is resting, waiting to give birth. On their way, lightning starts emerging from the stone - Hisa explains that the stone is sentient and pissed with them. Mahito insists on approaching Natsuko despite this being a huge taboo. They have a heart to heart - Natsuko's mask breaks and she tells Mahito she hates him, while he finally starts calling her mother, as he's assaulted by paper charms that tear at him violently. They part, with Hisa burning the charms to free Mahito, but it's too much and they both pass out.

Mahito dreams of meeting the sorcerer, who stacks irregularly shaped wooden blocks, and explains that stacking the blocks is necessary to maintain the world, buying a few days at a time. The sorcerer reveals the huge flying rock that is the source of his power; he also shows Mahito some blocks, but Mahito somehow divines that these blocks are 'stone for building tombs' and stained with malice. The sorcerer approvingly says this is a good sign for Mahito's ability to succeed him.

While they were asleep, the parakeets have captured Hisa and Mahito. One of them is preparing to eat Mahito, but the heron arrives just in time to save him. They Metal Gear Solid their way through the kingdom while the Parakeet King - a big swaggering guy very like the colonel in Castle in the Sky - goes to press a claim on the wizard, using Hisa and Mahitos' taboo act of entering the delivery room as a bargaining chip. There's some very funny scenes where the parakeets cheer for their king.

Mahito pursues the parakeet king, but the king destroys the staircase behind him, and talks to the sorcerer. The sorcerer is inclined to wave away the transgression, because he wants to let Mahito succeed him, but the parakeet king seems to be bringing him around. I kind of forget how this part went, but the parakeet king goes away from the sorcerer for a bit while Hisa is freed from her prison thing.

Mahito climbs back up with the heron man's help, arriving in the sorcerer's little subplane. The parakeet king quietly follows him, after telling his aides to inform his subjects he was a good king. Mahito approaches the sorcerer, who reveals he has found a new set of blocks, unstained by malice, and again invites Mahito to succeed him. Mahito says that his self-injury is proof of his malice, making him unfit for the job.

At this point, the parakeet king intervenes. Angry at all this sorcerous malarky, he desperately attempts to stack the stones himself, but when they don't stack, he flies into a rage and slices them with his sword. This naturally causes the world to start collapsing, and everyone runs to the doors to escape into the human world.

Mahito has by this point figured out that Hisa is his mum, and he asks if she really wants to go back to their world, knowing that she will very definitely die in a fire not much later. But she is naturally on board with this. Young!Kiriko goes with her, suggesting that she and Hisako entered the magical world at the same time. Meanwhile, Mahito returns to his own time, with Natsuko and the heron. All the various parakeets and pelicans come out through this door too. Old!Kiriko is restored from her apatropaic charm.

As everyone celebrates their safe return (and the appearance of a fuckton of birds), the heron tells Mahito that he ought to forget what happened in the magic world. We skip forward again, with Mahito - now with a baby sibling - setting off to Tokyo. Roll credits!

now let's comment on it

This is not a film that necessarily prioritises an internal logic playing out - new elements enter unexpectedly even quite late in the film. The sorcerer's motivation is murky until late on; the parakeets become major antagonists despite entering only halfway through the film.

There is a certain temptation, knowing how autobiographical this film is, to take it is a roman à clef. Mahito is of course a young Miyazaki; the old sorcerer's concern about finding a successor might be about Miyazaki wondering who should take over Ghibli or if it should just be allowed to die. Under this schema, the parakeets might be Ghibli's legion of fans, or the merchandising empire that prints their designs on every possible product. kvin's article develops this kind of reading, finding some angles I wouldn't have even considered, such as how the idea of weight communicated by the animation factors in to such an allegaroy. It's also something suggested in Miyazaki's own comments about the film, where the sorcerer is Takahata, the heron man is producer Toshio Suzuki...

It definitely helps to know a bit about Miyazaki's background when approaching this film. However, I think it would be reductive to go too far with this kind of reading, and take everything as an allegory for something in Miyazaki's life. The film still has to stand on its own feet!

'Coming of age' is the spin put on it by some outlets, like the BBC. And this is accurate to an extent. The arc of this film is similar to Spirited Away: Mahito starts out sullen and traumatised, but like Chihiro he transitions over the course of his journey in the magical world into the kind of determined Miyazaki protagonist we're used to. On this coming of age angle... well, also like with Chihiro, I don't find the Mahito of the first part of the film especially unsympathetic, his alienation is extremely natural given his situation. Mahito's dad kinda sucks! Living in wartime Japan also really kinda sucks, even if you're the son of a rich dude. But definitely over the course of the film Mahito has a change of heart towards Natsuko, and forms friendships that motivate him to try to protect them. His character arc definitely sees him become 'more prosocial'.

However, there's another angle that's pretty important - the idea of the weight of 'malice', the cursed existences of the pelicans and the like, and the fantasy of building a utopian world that is free of these things. This returns to a theme of Nausicaa, the manga in particular, where Nausicaa discovers that the world she knows - the toxic forest in particular - is actually an elaborate artificial system for cleansing the world of pollutants, that the clean world on the other side will be uninhabitable to her and her people, and that the architects of this system wait in stasis to replace them in this utopian future world. Nausicaa destroys them, commiting instead to an uncertain future.

In Mononoke-hime likewise, we encounter the lepers and former sex workers of Irontown clinging on to the 'cursed' world. Their extractivist project proves incredibly destructive, but the film still regards them sympathetically, and the resolution sees them perhaps finding a new way to live - and San, the feral girl, reconciling herself to the idea of humans.

Here, although the parakeet king forces the decision, Mahito has already declared that he doesn't believe he's fit to oversee a utopia, but instead that his place is in the awful, violent human world.

The film, and the book it's vaguely based on, are titled How do you live? In Japanese, that's a plural 'you' (君たち). There's a lot of ways you could read it, depending on who you take as 'you' - a child asking an adult how to live, or equally a future question of how will you live. This is a lot more explicit in the novel - which I have not read, but here is a summary courtesy of wiki:

Junichi Honda is a fifteen-year-old junior high school student, known by his nickname Koperu, after the astronomer Nicholas Copernicus. He is athletic and academically gifted, and popular at school. Koperu's father, a bank executive, passed away when he was young and he lives with his mother. His uncle (on his mother's side) lives nearby and visits frequently. Koperu and his uncle are very close. Koperu shares about his life and his uncle gives him support and advice. His uncle also documents and comments on these interactions in a diary, with the intent to eventually give the diary to Koperu. The diary writing, which is interspersed with the narrative, provides insight into the ethical and emotional trials that Koperu shared with his uncle. The diary entries, which cover themes such as "view of things", "structure of society", "relation", etc. are in the style of a note written to Koperu.[8]

Thinking like Copernicus that our Earth is a celestial body moving within the vastness of space, or thinking that our Earth is fixed at the center of the universe, are two ways of thinking that, in reality, are not only related to astronomy. Even when we think about things like the world around us or our own lives, the truth is that we are still revolving around them after all.

In the end, Koperu writes a decision on his future way of living as a reply to his uncle, and the novel ends with the narrator asking the question "how do you live?" to the reader.

The author of the novel was a socialist, who had been imprisoned by the nationalist government, and wrote the book intending to impart lessons on ethics. The version of his book published after the war was heavily edited to strip the book of political content. But it's also, perhaps paradoxically, a book that centres on very wealthy characters, aimed narrowly at educated boys, though it became a widely read classic.

Studio Ghibli's films, from both Miyazaki and Takahata, have a habit of being framed as imparting something to the younger generation - something the pair seem to have seen as a mission all the way back in the days of Panda Kopanda. For example, while Grave of the Fireflies is seen as the classic tragic war movie, for Takahata it was also aimed at criticising what he saw as the careless, consumerist generation of the 80s; the stubborn arrogance of the protagonist supposed to reflect on this. It's an attitude that also emerges in their comments about Chihiro. And, indeed, one of the first things we heard about How Do You Live? was that it was aimed towards Miyazaki's grandson - and more broadly towards that generation.

So what does this film have to say to the younger generations? Let's have a look at it from Mahito's POV.

For Mahito, the adults in his life are all pretty complicated. His father is enthusiastic and well-meaning but incredibly oblivious to what his son is going through (we might recall some of what Miyazaki wrote about his father in Starting Point, describing him as basically a grifter). Natsuko is masking pretty hard, trying to play the role of Good New Mum and connect to her newly acquired son, but there's an intrinsic distance. It is understandable that Mahito would want to reject them.

Mahito is... not entirely a passive character, he goes to some efforts to for example fashion the bow and arrow and repair the heron man's beak, but mostly he is pulled around by the plot into a strange world he doesn't understand. At first, his instinct is to retreat, even to the point of self-injury. Once he arrives in the magical world, he has acquired something of a purpose (finding Natsuko), but he gets pushed into near-disaster situations (the pelicans piling up to push him through the gate at the tomb) or stumbles into circumstances where something is expected of him (hey kid, gut this fish!). Gradually though his exposure to this world pulls him out of his shell. He runs into conflicts and injustices that seem intractable - the wareware and the pelicans - and has little power to intervene except to bury the bodies.

Eventually, he gets to carry out his main objective - finding Natsuko - but despite finally deciding to accept Natsuko as his new mother, he finds himself rejected, not just by her but also by the earth. Perhaps feeling responsible for getting her into trouble, his new objective becomes rescuing freshly-damsel'd Hisa. But now new adults want things of him - his great-uncle has decided he'd make a fine successor. Mahito has to make a decision here about what relationships he wants to commit to, what sort of life he wants to build - and he chooses the world he found so alienating at the outset of the film, the one which hurt him by taking his mother, not to the secondary-world fantasy.

It could be a 'this world is all we have' sort of statement, perhaps. But also the last act of the film feels like it gets a bit caught up in Castle in the Sky-style adventure-story beats.

I do feel like some aspects of the film ended up a little underbaked - which is an odd thing to say because it's not a short film and there is so much in it already. But Hisa for example - she's got badass powers and all, but I feel we barely get a chance to get a sense of what motivates her. Why did she enter the fantasy world? She acts at first like she doesn't know Mahito is her future son, but rapidly becomes incredibly devoted to him (in a way that reads a little romancey lmao). So much of her screen time is dedicated to having her convey the secrets of the world that it's hard to get a bead on her as a person.

Likewise, Natsuko - why did she enter this world to have her baby in this special ritual delivery chamber? She clearly knows more than most of the characters, but she gets kind of sidelined after Mahito confronts her, with wizard shit becoming more central. The animation does such a fantastic job of selling her feelings in the first part of the film that it feels like a shame that she drifts away at the end.

The progression of the film feels rather like a dream, where everything is arranged by symbolic significance to Mahito. It makes sense... on a magical level, where the secondary world is shaped primarily by parallels in the real one. So the tiny apatropaic statues of the old ladies protect him because they represent the role the real old ladies have in his life. Hisa has fire magic because Hisako died in a fire. Once Mahito has come to his personal resolutions about returning to the world, the magical one is no longer needed, and it collapses.

This is not such an uncommon role for magic in a story. In Miyazaki's own works, we have Totoro and Spirited Away, where a magical world provides direction or relief to a child's real struggles. Or take for example Okiura's film A Letter To Momo, in which the three yōkai recognise taking care of the grieving Momo as their explicit purpose as spirits. This magical world comes to Mahito to help him come to terms with losing his mother, and reorient himself towards living in a painful world.

Meanwhile, the sorcerer, whether he be Miyazaki or Takahata, is quite a distant figure. He may maintain the magical world by stacking his blocks, may be the authority which factions within it must plead to, but he also rules from afar in a vast empty palace full of long halls and open air spaces. His main company seems to be a big fucking rock, with which he made a 'contract'. He's generally handling it a bit better than, say, Ushiromiya Kinzo - he receives the parakeet king with good humour - but he's a pretty flawed god of his little world. So much of this world seems to pre-exist him, it's not something he constructed. Still, when he shows up, you pretty much have to do what he says.

If this is about Miyazaki's relation to Takahata, it seems like quite a sad portrayal. But 'unapproachable patriarch' does sorta describe their role in the studio from what I understand (c.f. Oshii's infamous article comparing them to the Kremlin).

When it comes to the question of who should succeed Miyazaki, we should probably consider the matter of Yoshifumi Kondō, who was being set up as the next big Ghibli director until his untimely death - which allegedly Takahata was willing to accept the blame for. The mythology built up around Miyazaki and Takahata is double-edged.

Here are some rather startling comments from Toshiyuki Inoue's interview. Inoue is one of the most impressive animators who ever lived in my book, the other star of the realist line besides Okiura. Just have a look at his booru page: iconic scenes from GitS, Akira, Millenium Actress; even in more recent films, he pretty much carried Maquia, and steals the show with his scenes in Miss Hokusai.

And yet even he was intimidated to be working alongside Miyazaki when he first came on board for Kiki's Delivery Service, fresh off Akira:

I believe you’ve always been a fan of Miyazaki’s, why were you scared to work with him? Toshiyuki Inoue: I had heard quite a few scary stories. A lot of acquaintances had worked on Nausicaä, Laputa and Totoro before that, so I knew how scary he could be when he got angry – I had heard stories of people being fired mid-production, things like that. How was it actually? Toshiyuki Inoue: Not as scary as I had imagined. He’d only rarely scream in the studio. But he did get angry. I’d sometimes be called to some separate room and lectured alongside Kōji Morimoto and Masaaki Endō. It felt like being in school all over again.

'Only rarely'. Honestly. Inoue describes how difficult it was for him to adapt his logical, analytical style to Ghibli's stretchy, bouncy characters - and how Miyazaki would disparage him if he, for example, drew a ship inaccurately.

For Inoue, coming back to How Do You Live was something like a 'return match'. He talks about how an older Miyazaki was no longer able to strictly correct the animation, and in general age was limiting him, but he still feels that Miyazaki is fundamentally superior:

Toshiyuki Inoue: I’ve always wished for a return match or a way to redeem myself. But even if I say that, I know I can’t even pretend to rival Miyazaki. I just can’t win. He’s extremely smart and learned, and on top of that, as an animator he always transcends common sense: he’s so talented that I know very well there’s nothing I can do against it. The more I learn about him, the more I realize I’ll never be on that level.

Miyazaki's genius is undeniable, but man... it's not a good mindset to cultivate if you want to find a successor lmao. If even Inoue doesn't feel he can measure up, who the hell could?

Mind you, it does rather seem that Miyazaki had mellowed out by the point of How Do You Live?. Here's Yamashita:

Akihiko Yamashita: As I said, the core of an animator’s job is to follow what the director asks, so whenever I had trouble with that, I’d go see Miyazaki to show him my roughs. He’d advise me on the things that were missing and reassure me about those that were good. He really helped me to gain more confidence in myself.

Reading these interviews underlines pretty hard that we shouldn't get too caught up in the mythology of Miyazaki the mighty auteur. While the story may be all on Miyazaki, and most of the character designs (with the notable exception of Natsuko)... so much of the details of the animation, the stuff that really makes this film land, is primarily shaped by everyone else - Honda in particular, but also the individual key animators who interpreted his scenes. I really need to get my hands on a copy of that Industrial History of Studio Ghibli book to get a less Miyazaki-centric perspective on the studio's history.

I do not feel, having come out of this film, any closer to knowing the answer to that eternally pressing question of how do you live - I guess I'm still working out my answer to that one, and I will be until I die. And maybe that's rather the point. I think this film still carries some of the flaws of Miyazaki's later films - despite having so many iconic scenes, it doesn't quite seem to know where it's going. But I am so glad to have seen this in the theatre (I saw it at the Prince Charles theatre in Soho with friends, the theatre was completely packed!), and glad Miyazaki managed to get this one out before he goes. Whatever happens to Ghibli without its sorcerer, it's been a hell of a thing to witness.

[oftenwantedafton]

Kismet - Dave Miller/William Afton x Female Reader

Chapter 2

Rating - Explicit

Word Count - 6k

CW - none for this chapter

Also available on AO3

Dave Miller sinks lower into the bathtub.

Contemplating. Reminiscing. Thinking about the events that have led him to collide with you not once, but twice now. Seeming coincidences. But he doesn’t really believe things are that incidental. Everything has purpose. The challenge was figuring out what that purpose was. Taking advantage of it.

The first encounter had been after he’d taken care of the security guard.

A useless employee from the start. Bothersome. Woefully inept. He’d been pitifully easy to dispatch. But messy. So much blood. An industrial level washer was needed to take care of things. He hadn’t thought anyone would be at the laundromat at that hour.

But there you were. Catching him off guard. Only for a moment. Your eyes on him. Not paying any attention to what he’d been carrying. And why would you? What reason would you have to suspect the laundry he was carting around so casually was in fact saturated with another man’s lifeforce? Simply watching him. Trying to be surreptitious and subtle about it and failing miserably. Amusing. You’d bolted like a frightened rabbit when he’d finally spoken, bidding you goodnight.

The Kawasaki Ninja is a newer purchase. A reward for himself. Not something he would have imagined himself operating even a year ago. But times are changing. He’s changing. Entering the next phase. Camouflage. Difficult to detect. Blending chameleon-like. It’s how he’s managed to avoid getting caught for any of his crimes. Elusive and stealthy.

Except when he’d literally almost run smack into you. Distracted. A lapse in judgment and a last minute decision. The weakness for animals forcing him to maneuver away. The scratches on his hands are already mending. He looks at them beneath the surface of the water. Thinks about you on the back of his bike. He’s never allowed anyone onto it before. An impulsive decision he can’t explain. He’d enjoyed it. Feeling your arms wrapped around him. Clinging. It’s not like him to let anyone get close. Yet there he had been, encouraging it.

He slides down further until he’s submerged. Holds his breath. Waits until the burning pressure borne of desperation for air becomes unbearable and then breaks through the surface. Slicking back dark tendrils of hair as the water tracks down his cheeks. He’ll visit you again soon. And then he’ll just let fate take its course.

It hasn’t failed him yet.

***

You step into the darkroom and switch on the safe light, bathing the small, confined space in a red glow.

You’d spent most of the morning taking pictures around your college campus. There aren’t nearly as many people around in the summer, but you kind of like that solitude. Summer classes aren’t bad either. Accelerated, yes, but less work in the long run. A good way to get some required electives out of the way. General Anatomy and Introduction to Psychology are the two you’re currently tackling. At least the first is helpful for drawing. The other, well. It’s easy enough. You’d already taken it in high school. This version was even easier. No exams. Just a paper due at the end of the semester. You have a bad habit of procrastinating, but you’re good at achieving something impressive in the eleventh hour. Working better when you’re under pressure.

This film you’re about to develop, though; this is nothing like a chore. Your true passion. You like digital photography well enough, but there was something about old school picture developing. The hands on feeling of creation. Waiting for the result to develop. More rewarding for the additional effort, you think.

You place the first negative on the enlarger tray. Focus until the depth of field is altered. Photographic paper now laid on the baseboard. Set the timer. Exposure. Covering more and more of the picture as the seconds tick by in increments of ten. You’re creating a test strip to determine what length of exposure works best. Now bathing the paper in the trays of chemicals. Developer, stop bath, fixer. You make sure the box of photographic paper is sealed before switching on the regular light. Clear demarcations on the test image ranging from bright light and a fainter print to the final column that’s deeply shadowed and darkly printed. Eighty seconds seems to be the best of the lot, somewhere in the middle range. You repeat the process again, adjusting the timer countdown and letting the entire sheet of photographic paper be exposed. Studying the result. Perfect. Rinsed and hung up to dry. That’s your first image done. Safely set aside as you begin again. The afternoon wanes. You glance at the clock. Time for a quick bite to eat and then you’re due back at the shelter.

Your university is mentioned on the five ‘o clock news you switch on for background noise when you return home. You’d heard some girls talking about it during class earlier. Someone attacking women. You’ve got mace and a concealed self defense weapon on your keyring. You’re not quite as worried since all of your classes are during the day, but still. You suppose that doesn’t give you immunity. Anything could happen.

Case in point, your run in with that strange man Dave Miller. Two run ins, no less.

You’d trusted him enough to go for a ride on his bike. After he’d nearly run you down on it. Maybe not your sanest idea. You’d intially felt like he was dangerous. Just something in the way he’d carried himself. After actually holding a conversation with the stranger, you’d found that feeling dissolving. Maybe not really dangerous. Just aloof. A little odd. Intriguing, though. Difficult to explain. You hadn’t really spoken all that much. He’d invited you to ride with him again. You’d accepted. Now you were just in limbo. Waiting for another visit. Or a chance encounter. Another late night rendezvous at the laundromat, maybe. You really should be more careful. Maybe going out alone in the wee hours wasn’t the best idea, even if it was so close to home. Who’s to say the campus stalker wouldn’t broaden his target range? Or some other psycho. Either way. You should be more careful.

No new animals for the intake today. The kittens are growing rapidly. You make sure the back door is always firmly shut now, lesson learned. Sweating inside the building. Making sure the animals have plenty of fresh water. You’re getting used to the routine. It’s much earlier when you leave. You might have time to get some homework done before attempting sleep.

You find yourself driving in the opposite direction of your apartment. Heading to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.

It’s a dumb idea, admittedly. There’s no guarantee that Dave will be there. And even if he is. He’ll be working. Hardly free to entertain you. But you’re kind of curious about returning even without the security guard’s presence. It’s been so many years since your last visit to the establishment. It would be an interesting site to take pictures of.

Pulling into the parking lot, you realize just how run down the place has become.

No effort made to clear the lot of the weeds and other vegetation that have reclaimed their territory. The exterior of the building in disrepair. Smashed lights. Pieces of the wall tiling missing. Graffiti spray painted all over every surface. A far cry from the cheerful, colorful pizzeria you remember from your childhood.

You don’t see the motorcycle anywhere but you suppose the employee might have parked elsewhere. There’s a buzzer by the front door. You press it, waiting. It’s difficult to see inside the building. Minimal lighting. Now something moving in the shadowed interior. Someone. Walking forward. Tall, slim. It’s Miller.

You hear the sound of a lock turning before he pushes the heavy glass door open. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Sorry, I know I wasn’t invited. I just was heading home and I thought…” Well, what could you say, really? That you’d decided to head in the complete opposite direction on a whim, on the off chance that he’d be there? You had no idea how many different employees guarded the building. Maybe he was the only one? Did anyone safeguard during the day? You somehow doubted it.

“I was actually planning on visiting you soon. So this worked out well. Welcome back to Freddy’s.” The older man smirks and you feel something flutter inside you. He was attractive, you had to admit. Maybe slightly harsh features, but they were growing on you the more you looked at them.

He doesn’t move from his position holding the door open and you’re forced to squeeze by, brushing against him. Deliberate? There’s a strange smell inside the restaurant that assaults you as soon as you enter the dining room. Chemicals. Strong. You bring your hand to your face to cover your nose and mouth.

“Floors were washed recently,” he offers, letting the door swing shut before he pulls a heavy keyring off his belt and fits one into the lock. “It’s not as potent by the offices.”

You nod, looking around. Another cascade of deja vu spilling over you. There’s the prize counter, next to the arcade. The infamous ball pit. A small curtained stage and its much larger counterpart. “Are they still up there?”

“Yes. You can have a look, if you want.”

Morbid curiosity gets the better of you. You ascend the short set of stairs to the raised platform. A place you weren’t allowed to go as a child, for employees only.

The drapes are heavy. It takes a lot of effort to shift them. A hand on your shoulder makes you jump.

“Sorry. Want a flashlight? It’s dark back there.”

You accept the offering, switching it on. Nearly jump again when the beam falls on a large blue rabbit right in front of you. Bonnie. Still clutching his red electric guitar. A little dirtier than you remember, but surprisingly intact otherwise. You pan the light around. Freddy front and center with microphone in hand. Chica with her bib and oversized cupcake companion sitting on a plate. You remember the pirate fox occupying the smaller stage nearby.

“Did you have a favorite?”

You duck around the curtain again, handing the flashlight back to Dave. “Not in particular. I just remember having fun. Until, you know.”

“Such a shame.” He thumbs the switch off and slots it back in his belt.

“This place would be amazing to photograph.”

“You’re a photographer?” He sounds surprised.

You nod. “It’s what I’m studying at the university.”

“What do you take pictures of?”

“Anything, really. Whatever inspires me. I love prints still. Physical media. Black and white especially. There’s something special about images captured that way. People dismiss it so readily now. But there are so many levels to it. It’s not just black and white. There are colors in between that. Degrees of darkness and light that you’d never notice otherwise. I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“A bit. But I don’t mind. You’re passionate about this.” He tips his head to one side thoughtfully. “Do you have your camera with you now?”

“In the car, yeah.”

“You want to take some pictures?”

“Am I allowed to? I’m not even sure I should be in here. I kind of feel like I’m trespassing a bit.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have invited you in otherwise. I don’t think the owner would appreciate just anyone in here snooping around, but…you’re not one of those people looking to exploit this establishment’s remains. There’s a genuine kind of reverence. Nostalgia. I know for a fact he appreciates that kind of sentimentality.”

“Do you know the owner well?”

A faint smirk. “You could say that.”

“What’s he doing now that this place is shut down?”

A heavy sigh. “As you’re probably aware, the media did not paint him in the kindest light after the allegations. Even though he was cleared, the damage was already done. Name tarnished. Reputation demolished. Difficult to come back from in a small town like this. So he’s just trying to lead a quiet life now. Trying out a new existence. Not quite willing to let the past go…” His voice trails off.

“I’m going to go get my camera, then.”

Dave’s gaze sharpens, whatever odd reminiscing he’d found himself lost in dissipating. “I’ll unlock the door for you.”

You return with a fresh roll of film loaded into the camera, another tucked into the pocket of your jeans. You’d been glad to get a little fresh air. That chemical smell really hits you as soon as you enter the building. Your initial enthusiasm to begin taking pictures wavers a bit when you realize a fundamental problem.

The security guard sees you hesitating as he finishes locking the door again. “What’s wrong?”

“The lighting.”

“Is that all? Easily fixed. Give me a moment.”

The tall man disappears back through the employee restricted area. Nothing. Then, everything happens all at once. The center stage curtains slide back. Rows of luminaires suddenly glow. A blossoming rainbow of bright primary colors. Neon signs on the checkerboard patterned walls humming. The arcade games switched back on. Digital music. Bright red scoreboard displays on skeeball lanes. A wave of nostalgia washes over you. This was more like what you remembered from your childhood. Staring open mouthed. Your gaze finally landing on Dave, leaning against the wall near the stage with his arms folded across his chest. Looking almost smug. Proud. Something.

“It all still works?”

“For the most part, yes.”

“It’s amazing.” You’re genuinely impressed. It takes you no time at all to fill the roll. Part of another. You’re excited. Wondering how they’ll look.

You settle into a booth near the stage across from Miller. Pop music from the eighties playing. The animatronics moving jerkily in time to the sound. You’re still taking it all in. Feeling your male companion’s eyes on you. Maybe it’s not impressive when you’re surrounded by it every day. You just think you’d be awfully tempted to play in the arcade if you worked here.

You glance down at the camera. Several shots left. You lift it to your face, focusing on Dave’s. He immediately blocks his features with his hand. “No. Not me.”

“Why not you? You have an interesting face.”

“I don’t like having my picture taken.”

“But you’re so photogenic,” you protest, lowering the camera. “They’re just for me, anyway. It’s not like I’m showing anyone else.”

He lowers his hand, scowling. “Fine.”

“Really?”

“Hurry, before I change my mind.”

“Okay, can you just turn your face. There. Like that. Lean back a little.” You can feel his impatience wafting across the table. You’ll have to rush it a bit. “And…done.”

“I need to shut things down. Get back to the security office.”

“Awww. Okay, I get it.” Of course he was here to work. Guarding the property. Still, you wouldn’t have minded a little more time basking in the glory of retro Freddy’s.

“Are you coming with me?”

“To the security office?” He nods. “Am I allowed to go back there?”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” That little secret smile again. You follow him back into the restricted area.

“Let me finish giving you the grand tour.”

The security guard leads you to a panel with the controls for all of the lighting and equipment, switching them all off. Past this there are several offices. Storage rooms. One massive section labeled Parts and Service that’s cluttered with equipment. Broken animatronics. Shapes that are hard to make out in the dim lighting and the older man makes no offer to brighten your view any further.

The tour ends in the security office itself.

Dated looking technology. Several monitors stacked on a battered desk. Yellowing plastic controls. Something about the flame retardant they’d used in old computers and other electronic devices, you remember reading somewhere. A poster of the lead animatronics and some children’s drawings tacked to the wall, including a trio of animals created out of construction paper and paper plates. A steel filing cabinet. A large clock that reminds you of the kind in your elementary school. A hardbacked chair tucked into the corner that he drags closer to the swivel one in front of the desk for you to sit on. A desk fan hums as it attempts to circulate the stale warm air around. He’d been right, you couldn’t really smell the cleaning solution back here. But the place was cramped, dreary. You can’t imagine spending eight hours stuck in this room. He sits in the office chair, that lean figure draping over the structure, spinning the chair slightly. Clearly waiting for you to sit.

You find yourself doing so stiffly. Close to the edge, as if you aren’t intending on staying long. Ready to bolt. You have this strong feeling that you don’t belong here. You’re definitely intruding. Trespassing, no matter what Dave says.

“So. Now you’ve seen what most visitors never get to. A behind the scenes peek.”

“It’s cool.” The nylon strap of your camera pulls at your neck. You’d never been overly fond of keeping it there.

“You know, it’s interesting. When we first met, I thought the animals were your vocation.”

“Oh, you mean the shelter? No, that’s just a part time gig I enjoy doing.”

“How is the rabbit?” The guard lifts a paper cup bearing the logo of a local fast food joint off the desk and takes a sip from the straw. Grimacing a bit. Probably watered down by now.

“Still there. Doing fine. We haven’t gotten anyone new. No one’s found a home, either.”

“How far along in your studies are you?”

“I’ve finished my first year, taking summer classes before heading into sophomore.”

Dave sets the cup back down. Looking at you. That perpetual look of amusement tugging his lips into a not quite smile. You don’t know what to make of it.

“You don’t look comfortable. You can sit back, you know. Nothing’s going to reach out and grab you.”

“I know.” You push back further into the chair. The movement makes the metal legs scrape the floor and you wince at the harsh sound. “How long have you worked here?”

“Not long. This place has a bit of a high turnover. I had to fill in rather last minute.” A more defined smirk now. Almost sinister looking. Deep shadows under his ash gray eyes. He really is an insomniac like yourself.

“What did you do before this?”

“Oh, this and that,” Miller replies vaguely, stretching. First his long legs straight out in front of him. Then each arm, twisting to rotate both shoulders. Finally his neck, which cracks loudly.

“Do you get bored? I mean, I can’t imagine there’s that much excitement just staring at the monitors. Doing rounds in the dark. Unless you switch things on regularly…”

“No. That was a special occassion. Normally things are…yes, I guess they are quiet.” He’s hiding something. Changing what he’d been about to say. You’re certain of it.

“Must be lonely.”

Dave leans forward slightly, his hands clasping together. “That problem’s been solved, though, hasn’t it?”

A little somersault in your stomach. Not once since you’ve entered the restaurant has it occurred to you that you’re locked inside a building with a virtual stranger. In an establishment that had been shuttered because children had gone missing. Yet here you were, chatting it up in a restricted area. The man seated very close to you. “I can’t stay all night,” you say quickly. “Just so you know. I only stopped by to say hi.”

“Sure, sure.” He waves a hand in the air breezily, leaning back again. He really had such elegant hands. Speaking of which.

“How are your hands, by the way?”

“Oh, they’re fine. Healing quickly.” Holding up a palm for you to see the red lines that are already fading. “What’s your schedule like? We should go for another ride soon. Maybe get something to eat.”

“I don’t work at the shelter on the weekends. I do have a class on Saturday mornings, so…”

“Perfect. Anywhere in particular you want to be picked up? I know these days people tend to be…restrictive about revealing where they reside.”

“You have to be careful. There’s a man stalking women at my school.” Not that you were really being careful right now. But honestly, if he was going to try anything unsavory, wouldn’t he have done it already?

Dave frowns. “Really? What about campus security?”

“It’s not the greatest. I can tell you for a fact that…well, maybe it’s just them turning a blind eye,” you amend hurriedly. You’d been about to say you’d heard more than one person brag about getting lucky in the parking lots.

Miller’s not letting you off the hook that easily. “Tell me what for a fact?”

You feel your cheeks flush. “Nothing. Just…kids messing around and no one stops it.”

“Ah.” He folds his arm across his chest. “Well, it’s difficult when you’re young. Troublesome curfews. Nosy adults. Limited places to…engage in activities.”

“Yeah.” You squirm in your chair, wishing he’d change the subject.

“You live on campus or off?”

“Off. Apartment.”

“Hmm. So you don’t really have those concerns to worry about anymore, do you?”

Was he flirting? Suggesting something? It was so difficult to tell. “I guess not,” you mumble.

“Well, figure out what day and where to meet you and let me know. Easy enough since you know where to find me.”

It suddenly clicks that he hasn’t looked at the monitors even once since you’ve entered the room. You glance at them now and he seems to see the direction of your gaze. “Don’t worry. I’m well aware of what’s going on.”

“How? Do you have eyes in the back of your head?”

“Something like that.” Another one of those grins you don’t know how to interpret.

You stand finally, willing some feeling back into legs that were going numb from your awkward positioning. Dave escorts you back to the main entrance. “I’ll stop by again to let you know when I can go out.”

“I look forward to it. And bring the photographs with you. I’m curious to see how they turn out.” You nod, once again forced to press close to the guard when you exit the building. Maybe it was unintentional, but you’re fairly certain he knows exactly what he’s doing.

The question is, do you like it? Do you like him enough to come back again? To go out with him, spend more time together?

You feel his eyes on you the entire walk back to your car.

***

You should be studying anatomy. There’s an exam on the skeletal and muscular system on Wednesday.

Instead you’re back in the darkroom. Developing those film rolls from Freddy’s. The results are not what you’d expected.

The pictures of the restaurant came out fine—great, even. It’s just the ones of the animatronics that are wonky. A strange blurry effect on each that you can’t account for. It’s on every single image of the mascots, directly over their faces, and appears no where else. You just can’t make sense of it, disappointed that the iconic figures weren’t properly captured.

You’re holding a picture of Dave now, the print nearly completely dry. Eyes piercing right through the paper at you. Everything contrasting sharply. Pale skin. Almost as white as a ghost in the photograph. Dark messy hair. Those sooty smudged undereyes. The way his body is positioned, it looks as if he’s recoiling from the stage illumination nearby. Hunching into the shadowed recesses of the booth. The elegant line of his hands resting on the table. Tracking back up over the skinny black tie and silver badge to the epaulets bridging long neck and wide shoulders. Pouting lips. Those eyes demanding attention again.

It’s hot in the room suddenly. Pricks of perspiration on the back of your neck. You gather your things and step outside, squinting against the suddenly bright illumination of the hallway and the sun outdoors.

Back home you’ve got your textbook open. Over two hundred bones to learn. Fingers creeping repeatedly towards the folder beside your backpack. You tell yourself to focus. You keep seeing the blurred mascots. Dave’s eyes.

You’re going back tonight.

***

Dave Miller senses there’s a different energy in the air tonight.

That feeling one gets before the start of a thunderstorm. A charged sort of anticipation. Hairs lifting. A certain scent. One of Hurricane’s rare rain storms approaching. Bringing you with it.

He doesn’t waste his time in the security office. He’s outside by the entrance. Leaning against crumbling mortar. Listening to the hum of insects. The first muttered rumble from the heavens.

Your car engine. Twin lights in the darkness. Your approach slowing when you realize he’s standing there.

“Hi. Is everything okay?” Surprised to see him outdoors, he thinks.

“Yes. Just enjoying the weather.”

“Oh. Yeah, I love thunderstorms.” You halt when you’re still a good distance away.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” As if he doesn’t know. A slim folder that must contain the photos you’d taken the other day. He admits he’s curious to see them. It had been so long since anyone had captured images of the restaurant. Not since the disappearances. Interested to see what you think of them. What the establishment looks like through the lens of your camera. Through the focus of your eye.

“I’ve got the pictures. Um, some of them came out kind of weird.”

“Weird how?” He pushes off from the edge of the building. More thunder now, and a brief flash of lightning. The storm was drawing closer. “You should come inside before you get drenched and ruin those. It’s going to hit any second now.”

You finish your journey to his side. He holds the door open. The first drops of rain fall, sinking into his shirt, his hair. A kiss on one cheek. You hurry inside.

He relocks the door and leads you back to the security office. The sound of the rain is muted here.

You lay the folder on one of the few empty spaces on the cluttered desk.

“Have a seat.” He pushes the swivel office chair and you sink into it. The hardbacked one still hasn’t been returned to its former location. He neglects it, remaining standing. Looking over your seated form.

“The majority of them came out great. But the animatronics…” You withdraw a photograph and hand it to the security guard.

Miller studies the picture for a long time. He knows instantly what the strange hazy effect is. Fascinating that it had been captured on film.

He can hardly reveal what it truly is to you, though. So he shrugs and hands it back. “Something with the film itself, maybe. A defect. The lighting, perhaps. Maybe the motion—”

“—There’s nothing wrong with the film,” you say firmly. “Every other picture is fine. And it’s not the lighting or the movement, either.”

“So what do you think it is, then?”

You sigh and set them back inside the folder face down. “I don’t know.”

“May I see the rest?”

“Yeah, sure.” You hand the stack to him.

He’s certainly not an expert on photography, but he can see you’ve got a good eye for it. It’s not simply a collection of random snapshots. There’s a variety in terms of focus. Attention to detail. Instead of an entire arcade machine, a close up of the joystick controller, the lit screen adding a hazy pop of color to the background. A close study of the artwork on a pinball machine between the levers. The way the lighting shines through a long vacant glass sitting forgotten on one of the tables. A kind of eerie beauty to it. Haunting. And it was haunted. You’d captured it. You just didn’t know it.

The images of himself are at the end of the pile. These he doesn’t linger on. He’s thinking of the press. Nosy journalists invading his privacy. He’d looked different then. Heavier. Known for being cheerful, friendly, approachable. Until he’d lost his youngest son. Until the disappearances. Losing the joy from life. Food tasting like ash. No longer comforting. The smile evolving into what it is today. A smirk over a private joke only he can enjoy.

Dave hands the photographs back to you. “What will you do with them?”

“I don’t know. Put them in a binder, I guess.”

“You’re talented. Gifted, I dare say.”

“I guess.” You seem discouraged. Disappointed that the pictures weren’t what you’d hoped they’d be.

“Nothing is ever as clear as a memory. Nor as deceiving,” he murmurs.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He glances at his wristwatch. “You’re here very late. It’s nearly four.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“You struggle with that a lot.”

“So do you.”

“When do you want me to take you out? If you don’t mind hanging around for a couple more hours, my shift will be over. We can go out to breakfast if you’d like.”

“Okay.” You’re nervous. He can feel the energy of it, not unlike that tension that had preceded the storm outside. “What are we going to do for two hours?” This said softly, as if you’re reluctant to voice the query.

“That’s entirely up to you.”

You start to rise from your seat. “You can sit here if you’d rather…”

“No. Stay.” The guard slouches into the empty chair next to yours and hooks one foot underneath the wheeled bar at the bottom, dragging you closer in one smooth motion. A little gasp from you at the abrupt shift in your position. “You spent a long time looking at that picture of me.”

“What?” You’re blushing. “No, I didn’t.”

“You did. You know how I know? Because your fingerprints are all over it. Only that one. Not even your…interesting captures of Freddy and the gang have that much attention on them.”

“I just…I just think your face is interesting,” you murmur defensively.

“Interesting how?”

“I don’t know.” Your eyes evade his.

“Suddenly shy when you’ve been bold enough to come here not once, but twice. Why do you think that is?” You shrug, shaking your head. “This is going to be a very long two hours if the conversation continues to be one sided.”

“Maybe I should go.”

His lips press into a thin line. Not the reaction he’d been expecting. “If that’s what you want.” Your eyes finally meet his. “What, did you think I was holding you prisoner? Come. Go. Entirely your decision.”

“I need you to unlock the door.”

“Of course.” He shoves the chair back roughly, watching you hesitate over the folder sitting on the desk. “Keep them. You wanted them.”

“The rain…”

“Fine. I’ll drop them off some other time when you’re working. Or you can come collect them.”

You exit the office empty handed and he walks behind you. You have no trouble finding your way back to the entrance now.

Through the glass doors he can see the rain is torrential. Sheets of moisture that cascade down, the sky weeping furiously. You’re staring at the deluge, wide eyed.

“You’re sure you want to go out in that?”

“Yes.” Your voice wavers but you’re already reaching for the handle.

“The driving could be dangerous,” he cautions.

“I’ll manage.” You shove the door open. The scent of petrichor. Warm, wet air. You inhale deeply. Bracing yourself. Darting into the downpour.

You nearly make it to your car. Turn to look back in his direction and stumble, going down. An arc of lightning illuminates your soaked form.

Dave curses, exiting the building. Instantly drenched, clothing plastered to skin. Lifting you to your feet. A deep, jagged tear in the asphalt nearby causes you to lose your footing again, but he holds you upright.

“My ankle, I think I…”

It’s difficult to hear you, forced to compete with the sound of the storm. Rainwater runs into his eyes. He impatiently shoves at the damp tendrils of hair plastered against his face, scooping you up into his arms before you can even react, carrying you back to the restaurant.

You wince when he sets you down to open the door.

“Can you walk at all? Bear weight?”

You bite your lip, nodding. Limping inside, leaning heavily on the older man’s shoulder. The door hisses shut. The sound of water pattering on the linoleum. He crouches down, moving the hem of your damp jeans and peeling down the wet ankle sock. Gently probing. “Sprain, most likely. Come sit down.” He drags one of the chairs from the nearby tables for you to sit on.

“How can you tell?”

“Because my eldest son had a knack for getting sports injuries.”

“You have a child?”

“Three.”

“Are you married?”

“Was.” He yanks another chair over and sits next to you. “What?”

“I didn’t know you had kids.”

“They don’t live with me. They’re…grown now. Gone. Why do you look so surprised?”

“I just…I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“I don’t really know anything about you.”

“You could have started learning. You know, over breakfast today, for example. Except that idea seemed unacceptable to you, so, here we are.” He rakes a hand through his damp tresses again. “Why were you in such a hurry to leave?”

“I got scared.”

He scoffs. “Of what? Of me? What did I do?”

He watches you tentatively stretch your injured foot out, grimacing. “Nothing. I just…I don’t know. I got nervous all of a sudden. I don’t really know you,” you repeat again.

“So get to know me, then.”

“Alright. I’m sorry you got wet.”

“Wet is putting it mildly,” he mutters.

“Okay. Drenched.”

“Mmm-hmm. Let me go grab the first aid kit. I can wrap your ankle, stabilize it. Get some ice from the freezer. I always keep some made. And you should keep that leg elevated,” he adds, standing and moving his chair so you can rest your foot on it.

Miller returns shortly with the supplies. Kneeling down. Unlacing your canvas sneaker. Pulling off the shoe and sock as gently as he can. Winding the elastic compression around the swollen joint, then setting a plastic bag full of ice chips on top of it.

“Thank you. You’re good at that. Gentle.”

“Like I said, a lot of practice. It’s the exact treatment you’d get if you went to urgent care.” He straightens.

“Are you close with your kids still?”

A long pause. “No. Not by choice, just…it’s complicated.” He notices you staring again. This time at his arms. The single layer of the shirt can’t conceal the scars beneath, the red patterns peeking through the damp material. “There’s a lot to unpack. With me. It’s going to be an investment. A commitment. This isn’t some teenage romance. You’re with an adult. An entirely different playing field. So you should be certain that’s what you want.”

He sees you swallow. Hears it, even. “Okay.” Your voice cracks a little. “Okay,” you repeat more firmly.

“Not going to run again?” Shifting some of your damp strands of hair now. Grazing your cheek. Your gaze still holding steady.

“No.”

“You know if you hadn’t looked back, you probably wouldn’t have tripped and fallen. But you couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“I felt bad.”

“Why?”

“For leaving you behind.”

“You’re not going to make that mistake again, though, are you?” His thumb drags against your lower lip. “Because you want to stay. You want this.” You nod slightly, your face moving against his fingers.

Dave smiles.

[amarachno]

“Getting thrown back ten years in the past is decidedly not a monday morning activity.” Tim Drake muttered, glaring at the old computer in front of him.

He had been in the middle of throwing himself into his desk chair at W.E. when the world flickered and suddenly he was lying sprawled on the floor of his childhood bedroom.

Tim continued grumbling as he checked out which events would have happened. From looking at the date, Tim gathered that he was about two weeks from his tenth birthday. His internal clock was going haywire, it had been around 8:20 AM and the 12th of September, now it is 9:14 PM on July 5th.

Tim needed a plan. Fast.

Tim draws a blank on his plan. Usually he’s much better at coming up with them but his body from ten years ago is sick. Who even gets sick in July? AND this body has a functional spleen. So basically no excuse and Tim is reminded why his parents called his useless all the time.

Right now? Tim just wants to feel happy. He misses the giddy feeling in his chest, that feeling had faded in the years since he turned twelve.

Tim has a really really good idea. Maybe it’s not a very good idea considering he’s sick and not in the ‘right’ body but it seems fun enough to ignore those setbacks.

Dressed in threadbare, baggy, black clothes he bought from a second hand store at some point in the past, Tim begins to pack. He pulls out a black backpack, peeks inside and grins and the contents. His camera, some lenses, and a few more essentials are tucked carefully inside. Theres a credit card in the camera case and a bottle of water at the bottom of the bag. Its perfect.

Tim opens his childhood window, climbs the tree outside the window, and begins a not so familiar trek to the bus stop. If his memory serves correct, there should be a bus arriving in about 30 minutes so Tim just has to jog a little bit to get there on time.

Boarding the bus goes well, getting up on the roofs goes even better. His little nine year old body is light and at this point, he had already been running around like this for a year so the muscles have built up adequately. Before he left, Tim had done some research on Batman’s patrol routes, and if he hurried Tim would catch Batman swinging by five rooftops down and three to the left.

Tim settled down half tucked between an air conditioning unit and a wall, content to wait for Batman. Already, his chest had lightened, feeling like his body was vibrating from excitement. He had missed this.

Ever since joining Batman as Robin, Tim had been forced to retire his photography hobby unless there was a stakeout. There was no time to go out in the city unless he was Robin. Training ramped up, the workload piled, and the exhaustion won out. Tim’s reflection on what his life had become was cut short by crowing laughter and the sound of a grapple.

Tim’s camera was out in a flash, standing on his toes for a good angle over the air conditioner. Point, aim, Click! Click! Click! Perfectly in frame, Robin and Batman flying side by side across the rooftop next to him.

He slunk back into the wall and checked out his pictures. He had brought his digital camera today, seeing as he was out of practice and wanted to see the finished product. His heart beating out of his chest, giddiness building in his lungs. Tim checked the small screen and-

They were perfect. From this angle, Tim caught the right side of their bodies. Batman’s cape flies out behind him, almost perfectly framing his figure against the bright lights of the city. He’s swinging forward, chest out, the symbol clear again his suit. Slightly lower than him and a little closer to the camera, Robin.

His Robin. Jason Todd, Tim’s Robin. The one he had looked up to so much. The Robin who died, came back, and tried to kill Tim.

Robin’s chest was puffed out, drawing a deep breath before another fit of laughter. One of his legs outstretched, the other curled up a little.

It was perfect. The sound of Robin laughing played on repeat in Tim’s mind.

Tim would not waste this chance.

Tim sat on that rooftop for another hour after that, thinking, planning, plotting. The trek home did not go as well. Tim’s body was achy and sweaty. At some point he must have gotten chilled, (Which is bullshit because it’s literally July.) but it had been raining the previous day so maybe that caused it. Either way, Tim’s bones hurt and his hands were shaking. His face felt hot but his body cold, and he already felt the sickness in his throat. Again, Bullshit. Tim made it back on the bus, and then off too! “Good job, Tim.” he mumbled as he walked back to his house. The gravel crunched beneath his feet and promised a… less than kind… extra crunchy landing if he fell over, so Tim took it an encouragement to keep walking.

Tim’s legs gave out ten minutes through the thirty-five minute walk. He is such a brave soul though, because he gets up again and tries to walk. It feels like his legs are made of jello and his vision is blotchy.

Again, this body has a spleen and everything! Useless.

Tim’s vision swims again and when he falls to the ground he doesn’t get back up.

________________

To be continued…

[kirimoochi]

capture this moment.

₊˚ ᗢ photographer! kazuha x gn! reader, modern au.

⤷ we'll keep these memories with more than our hearts.

Most of his photos would consist of nature. It can span from simple pictures of the ocean or close-up shots of rare flowers he came across in gardens. On the rare occasion though, for the more special bunch, he likes to take photos of you. It comes to him whenever you’re not looking and when you’re traveling with him. He finds that the best ones always turn out to be the ones where it's unexpected.

When you first met him, you would have never thought he was a photographer. He looked more like a bookworm than anything else. He looked like someone who would knit cardigans and beanies. However, rest assured, this man (despite not looking like it) can take amazing photos. He would ask you to pose in different ways to enhance your stance or frame, and he would take full advantage of the situation to rest his hand against your waist. 

He’s very kind and soft with you, always giving you tips and advice with that smooth voice of his. He guides you carefully with his hands, never doing anything to make you feel uncomfortable. The last thing he wants is a photo you were not fond of. With his ability to come up with creative poses, it makes you wonder how long he’s been doing this for, and how many people he’s worked with.

He doesn’t have a very professional set up so don’t expect him to come out with a tripod or anything fancy. He likes using a digital camera that was passed down to him by his friend Tomo, who passed a long time ago. He says that one of his reasons for starting photography was to commemorate his friend, but also to remember the things he’s doing in day-to-day life. “You miss the small details in the mundane,” he would repeat, “best that we spend every moment appreciating what we have."

He keeps a lot of his works in an album that he carries around. He takes a marker and writes down the date and event just to make sure that he will never forget. On photos with you in it, he likes to draw hearts or cat whiskers on you. You would oftentimes tease him for having such cute habits. It wasn’t every day that you have someone so enamored by the littlest things about you. It made the time spent with him a little more special because it was being kept safe somewhere. You won’t be able to forget it with him around.

A small pet peeve you might have is when he takes photos of whatever he is eating. He’s one of those kinds of people. Though, he doesn’t mind if there are minor imperfections in the photo like a massive bite-sized mark being imbedded into his sandwiches. He thinks it adds to the charm. 

“Rest your hand here darling,” He whispers, placing your hands against your hip as he spreads your fingers out. You could feel his warm breath tickle the back of your neck. You swallowed a thick lump at the base of your throat, slightly nervous with the sudden intimacy. “Put your foot here. It would look nicer on camera when I shoot from an upwards angle.” 

[baby-yongbok]

Poetry

Chapter Six - Mr.H

Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff with a swirl of angst

Summary: The night that you see Hyunjin again after your date is full of surprises. You can keep your cool but can he?

Word Count: 5,407

A/N: Things are happening, ya'll. I'm so excited to be back in Fan Fiction land <3 + If you haven't already, I highly recommend reading the previous parts before this one so that you get the ✨full experience✨. See you next Thursday at 6 💕

Part Five

✧Poetry Series Masterlist✧

✧Main Masterlist✧

There wasn’t a moment of silence after Hyunjin left, you spent the entirety of your breakfast answering questions while giving Changbin and Serena as many details as you could before you had to leave for work. You will admit that you appreciate how involved your friends are, especially Changbin. You were almost afraid that he was going to go full big brother mode and quiz Hyunjin the moment that he met him but he actually kept his cool, let’s see how it goes next time. 

Speaking of next time, you haven’t seen Hyunjin since your date. The two of you have been texting nonstop and you even spoke on the phone two days ago but neither of you have brought up a plan to meet. He canceled your meetup this week because he had to help his roommate Felix with something upstate. You weren’t mad about it though, you took the free time as an opportunity to look into a new hobby. 

You have a bit of a tradition that you started during your second year of university, every autumn you look into building a new skill or taking up a new hobby. You weren’t sure what to get into this year until you saw a flier on your way to work yesterday. Apparently your local community center has a photography club that meets on Fridays where you’re taught everything that you need to know by a professional. There’s no way that you could turn a blind eye to such a wonderful free opportunity. So here you are, walking through the large glass doors and into the quiet lobby. Your brand new Canon camera is placed safely in its case hanging from your shoulder and your tote bag is hanging from the other. You looked up at the digital board by the reception desk to look for the room number for your class. Once you found it you made your way down the hall, humming a smooth tune to try and calm your nerves. You were more than excited but you were almost positive that the club would be filled with experienced photographers looking for community and you are far from experienced.

The door to the room is already open when you reach the room and there are a few people in there talking amongst themselves and fiddling with their cameras. You enter quietly, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself but that fails once you get half way into the room. The group swiftly looks up at you, each one of them studying your frame with furrowed brows and that’s when you notice the elephant in the room… they’re all teenagers.

“Hi, you must be new.” One of the girls breaks the silence. “I’m Mia.”

“Hi, I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you.” You move to sit by the window, right in the middle of the row. You never liked being too far from the instructor but you also hate being in the front. 

“I’m James and this is Olivia, she’s a bit shy.” One of the boys sitting against the wall introduces himself and the girl sitting on his lap. Olivia offers a timid wave before looking back down at her camera. You smile, waving back at her. 

“Leo, stop being rude. Say hi to the new girl.” Mia pushes the boy sitting in front of her and he curses at her quietly before turning to you and waving passive aggressively. You wave back silently as you try to hold back a chuckle.

“Leo is an asshole, don’t mind him.” Mia explains before glancing down at her phone. 

“Two minutes until Mr.H gets here.” James nods his head, only half paying attention as he looks past Mia and over to you, clearly itching to ask you a question.

“Am I crazy or are you the oldest one here?”

“Oh my god, what the hell, James.” Mia’s exasperated voice echoes through the room followed by Oliva’s laugh. 

“It’s an observation, fucking shoot me.” You chuckle a bit, nodding your head. 

“You’re not crazy, I’m probably about seven years older than you guys.” 

“Oh you’re about the same age as Mr.H” You pinch your brows together softly, you didn’t expect the teacher to be around your age. “Maybe we can hook you two up, he desperately needs a girlfriend.”

“What are you going on about, James?” You shift your attention towards the person speaking, that voice sounds so familiar and you realize why as soon as your eyes land on his figure coming through the door. Hyunjin is the teacher?

“I’m just trying to get you a girlfriend, Mr.H” You watch as Hyunjin walks over to the desk at the front of the classroom, he hasn’t looked up from the packet in his hands since he came through the door. You take a moment to admire him, he doesn’t look as dressed up as he usually does, he looks relaxed and cozy. You could get used to this look. 

“Why don’t you worry about perfecting your depth of field instead. You’re not here to get me a girlfriend.” Hyunjin smiles to himself as he leans against the desk, still focused on the paper in front of him. The others in the room immediately start laughing and making fun of James. 

“That’s what you get.” Mia laughs as she moves from sitting on top of the desk.

“Whatever, Y/n is way too pretty for you anyway.” You cover your mouth as you try to stifle a laugh. Hyunjin immediately looks up at the sound of your name, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Excuse me?” Hyunjin asks before turning his head in your direction. He freezes for a second, his eyes glossing over your frame slowly to make sure that it’s really you. 

“Oh um you must be new.” He stands, pushing a hand into the pocket of his worn denim jeans and making his way over to you. 

“Yeah I am.” You grin, playing along with him. Once he reaches you he offers you his hand and you immediately take it into your own. 

“I’m the photography instructor for this program, you can call me Hyunjin.” He smirks down at you and you nod your head. 

“I’m Y/n.” He gives your hand a light squeeze before dropping it. 

“It’s a pleasure to have you in our club.” He winks at you before turning on his heels and stalking back over to his desk.

“Why can she call you Hyunjin but we can’t?” Mia whines, earning a dramatic eye roll from Hyunjin.

“Because I’m eight years older than you.” You chuckle lightly and Hyunjin smiles at the sound.

“How do you know that she’s your age?” James argues and Hyunjin shrugs. 

“Are you guys here to question me or to actually learn something?” The group of teens sigh as Hyunjin starts looking through his bag. “I made a project sheet for today but I suppose I can save that for next week now that we have a new member. Let’s focus on questions and practice for today.”

He pulls a thick folder out of his bag and places it on the desk right next to his massive Sony DSLR camera. You feel a bit intimidated by this side of Hyunjin, he seems to be very in his element here. Maybe he’s been doing this for a while.

“Can we do an object project?” Olivia asks in a soft voice, catching Hyunjin’s attention.

“I like that idea, what do you guys want to shoot today?” You can’t help but stare as Hyunjin talks to the kids, he seems to have a pretty solid relationship with them. You stare down at his Versace bracelet on your wrist as you listen to him talk to the kids. 

“Alright so that’s what it’ll be, four photo’s of your favorite place to be in this community center. It can be a place that you have a positive memory of or just a place where you feel the most comfortable. Today's object is a clock, if you don’t have a clock in the shot then it doesn’t count. Get creative, there are no limits. I want two black and white photos and two sepia.” The kids all stand from their seats, pulling their camera straps around their necks and talking about where to go.

“Be back here in forty-five minutes. I will set a timer, please don’t make me come find you.” The group mumbles a half hearted ‘okay’ before turning their attention back to their previous conversation. You take this time to unpack your own camera, turning it on and flipping through the settings. You made sure to watch a couple of videos before coming here but everything that you learned went right out the window once you saw Hyunjin. 

“I’ll be right with you, Y/n.” Hyunjin smiles over at you before turning his attention towards Leo. He’s been so quiet that you forgot that he was there. Hyunjin kneels in front of the boy's desk, leaning into his space a bit before whispering. You decided to look away to give them some privacy. Maybe you can manage to google some quick photography tips before he turns his attention to you.

You start looking up photography quick guides on your phone as you wait for him. You get so engulfed in the article that you’re reading that you don’t even notice Hyunjin making his way over to you until he’s sitting at the desk in front of yours. You jump a bit, locking your phone quickly.  

“Well this is a pleasant surprise.” He smiles as he leans back against the wall behind him. “You missed me so much that you tracked me down?” 

You chuckle, a light blush creeping up your neck. You look over towards where the kids were earlier and notice that they’re all gone. You must’ve been so distracted by your research that you didn’t hear them leave.

“What if I did?” You tease and now it was his turn to blush. “I didn’t know that you’re into photography.”

“Surprise.” You roll your eyes at him and he smiles towards you. “I may be a little into it. I’ve been doing it for about five years, nothing too major.”

“Clearly it is pretty major if you’re certified to teach people.”

“Are you impressed by that? Because if you are then I’ll agree.” You scoff, pushing his arm playfully. 

“No comment.” 

“That means that you are impressed.”

“Are you going to flirt with me or are you going to teach me how to work this thing?” You ask, holding your camera up in front of you while smiling towards Hyunjin. He surrenders, shaking his head and taking your camera from you.

“You’re right.” He turns your camera on, studying the settings and adjusting things the way that he sees fit. You can’t help but blush a bit as his fingers press the buttons. His gaze turned from playful to focused and serious as soon as you placed the device in his hands. The way that he operates the camera is actually pretty attractive. 

Your eyes widen a bit as you realize the nature of your thoughts. This is not the time to think about all of the things that you find attractive about your boyfriend,wait, he’s not your boyfriend. Not really, not officially, he hasn’t even asked you out for a second date yet. 

“Alright, so, this camera is actually pretty simple. I’ve adjusted some settings, I’ll show you what they all do and we can get you started on practicing the rule of thirds, sound good?” Hyunjins voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you sit up straighter in your seat. You clear your throat and look up at him as he watches you, his eyes wandering over the exposed skin of your neck for a second before looking up at you. 

“Sounds good, Mr.H.” 

“How’s this one?” You ask while looking down at your camera screen to study the photo you just took. Hyunjin steps closer to you from behind, looking over your shoulder to get a look at the photo too. 

“Perfect, I think that you should be fine without the grid now. Maybe practice eyeing it yourself throughout the week and I can check it for you when we meet next Friday.” You chuckle, turning your head to face Hyunjin and he furrows his brows in confusion. “What?”

“Couldn’t you just check it when I see you next Thursday?” He grins at you, shaking his head and tonguing his cheek.

“Nope, I’m gonna treat you just like everyone else in the club.” You narrow your eyes at him, glancing down at the tiny space between the two of you. 

“Like you are right now?” Hyunjin looks down at his hand on the small of your back and pulls his lips into a thin line.

“You’re right, Y/n this is highly unprofessional. I really need you to keep your hands to yourself.” Hyunjins eyes morph into cresents as you push him away from you, scoffing playfully.

“I hate you.” You make your way back over to your desk and Hyunjin walks over to his at the front of the room.

“Are you sure about that?” He pulls himself up onto the desk, sitting and leaning back on his palms. A deep blush runs over your cheeks as he stares over at you with an equanimous smirk adorning his lips. You look down, avoiding his piercing eye contact and now it was his turn to chuckle. “The kids should be back in a second.”

Just as he looks down at his phone the timer that he set earlier goes off. You look over at the door expecting to see them walk through but no one is there. Hyunjin closes his eyes, tilting his head back towards the ceiling and humming softly. Your eyes pinch together in confusion, is he not going to go get them? 

“Are you sure they’re coming back?” Hyunjin hums in response, a small smile pulling at his lips before he starts counting.

“5, 4, 3, 2” He points towards the open door and you can hear the loud pitter patter of the group racing down the hallway. “They’re always two minutes late.” 

“We’re here!” Olivia makes it into the room first, panting as she makes her way over to her seat. The rest of the group follows behind her, trying to catch their breath as they sit. 

“Once you all remember how to breathe we’ll get started.” Hyunjin teases, lifting his head to look at the group. You can’t help but smile, something about seeing him interact with them makes you feel warm. He's a natural leader, in the way that he carries himself, the way he talks to them. He radiates a sense of comfort and confidence in this space and it’s almost rewarding to see. 

“Can I go first?” Mia asks as she stares down at her camera.

“Nope.” Hyunjin quips quickly.

“Why not.” She whines and Hyunjin offers an exaggerated sigh in response. “I want to get it over with, Mr.H”

“And that’s why you’ll be going last.” Mia groans, putting her head down on the desk and stomping her feet. Hyunjin immediately imitates her, kicking his feet against his desk and whining. The rest of the group laughs, you even hear a faint chuckle coming from Mia. 

“Always remember that I'm ten times more dramatic than you.” Hyunjin teases before sitting up completely. “Alright, let’s do this. Show me what you got James.”

“I think that Olivia wants to go before me.” James sinks down into his seat as he tries to dodge a hit from the girl behind him.

“You threw your own girlfriend under the bus? That’s cold.”

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t impressed. Each of the kids in this club are amazing at photography, if you saw any of the pictures that they took online you’d think that a twenty year professional was responsible for the art. You’re equally impressed by Hyunjin’s teaching skills, he answered all of their questions flawlessly and made sure that you were still engaged even though you didn’t participate in the activity. 

Once class ended Hyunjin texted you offering to walk you home, of course you said yes, you actually did miss him so you couldn’t pass up this opportunity. Your house was only four blocks from the community center but it seemed a lot longer since the city blocks are massive. Usually this would bother you, you’d put some music on and try your best to get the walk over with but you found yourself settling into a comfortable stroll with Hyunjin. You weren’t in a rush to get anywhere, you were grounded, living in the moment.

“How did you start teaching photography?” You asked as the two of you waited to cross the street. 

“My mentor set it up for me, he thought that it would be a good way to redirect my emotions.” He chuckles softly, taking a step forward to guide you across the street. “I told you that I was a bad kid but I didn’t really stop getting into trouble until I turned twenty. I met my mentor's son, Chan, a couple of weeks after my birthday when I was taking pictures of Felix for his portfolio. His dad is a photographer and he took interest in me almost instantly, he taught me some stuff and basically became a father to me. He started the club on my birthday last year when he retired from the community center.” 

“So you replaced him?” You look over at Hyunjin who seems to be deep in thought.

“Something like that, I’m one of the youth counselors but he was in charge of it all. People treat me like I’m in charge for some reason. It’s probably because I’m so smart and handsome.” He sighs dramatically, pushing his hands into his pockets and shaking his head. “It just isn’t fair, it’s so hard being me.”

“Oh yeah, it’s super hard being a model for luxury brands.” You laugh, rolling your eyes at him and bumping him with your shoulder. “I would hate being a role model for the youth.”

“Hey, this is hard work.” He defends as the two of you stop at the next corner. “But, on a serious note, I do enjoy working with them. I teach two more classes throughout the week and it’s probably what saved my life. Now, I get to help save theirs. Every kid that I teach has gotten into some kind of trouble. I like offering them a space to be themselves and learn something new, I like creating the space that I wish that I had when I was their age.” 

You stare over at the crossing light as Hyunjin opens up a bit. It’s so hard for you to imagine the sweet, soft guy standing next to you as an angry teenager fighting everything that looked in his direction. You can’t help but to feel proud of him, he seemed to have really turned himself around for the better. It takes a lot of discipline to correct bad habits. 

You keep your eyes trained on the light in front of you, waiting for it to change. Just as it turns green you reach your hand over towards Hyunjins, interlocking your fingers and offering a reassuring squeeze. He keeps his gaze forward as you two cross the street silently but the smile on his face and the blush on his cheeks speak a thousand words. He squeezes your hand back, running his thumb along the back of your hand as you reach the next block. He doesn’t need you to say anything back, your actions speak louder than any sentence you could possibly speak. 

“On a different note…” He looks over at you with a grin. “What did you tell your friends about me?”

“I am not answering that.” You start to pull away from him but he pulls you into his side, letting go of your hand and putting his arm around your shoulder.

“Let me guess, you told them that I’m the best kisser in the entire world and that I’m so amazing and funny and that you can’t get enough of me.” A goofy smile adorns his lips and you sigh, covering your face to hide your blush. “Aw, she’s shy.”

Before you can protest, your phone starts ringing in your bag and you take this opportunity to escape Hyunjins teasing. Thank god for Changbin.

“Hey, what’s up.” You laugh a bit as Hyunjin presses you into his side more. 

“Hey, are you with someone?” You can hear the smile in Changbin’s voice.

“Yup, coming home now.”

“Ah, good, could you do me a favor? I forgot to grab popcorn on the way home. Serena is coming over to watch a movie and that’s the only thing that I don’t have.” You nod, looking up the block and spotting a store on the corner. 

“I’ll grab it for you, I’m walking up to a store now.”

“You’re a lifesaver. I’ll see you soon. Oh, and tell Hyunjin that I said hi.” He sings the last part of his sentence before you say bye and hang up. He’s definitely going to question you as soon as you walk through the door. 

“Everything alright?” 

“Yup, I just need to go into this store.” You lock your phone and slip it back into your bag as you walk up to the store. “And Changbin says hi.”

There’s a group of guys outside of the store but you don’t pay them any mind, Hyunjin follows you closely as you pull away from him to enter the store, you’ve been to this shop a million times so you know where everything is. You make a beeline to the popcorn and make your way over to the counter. The cashier smiles at you as you approach, making small talk as he checks you out. Once you’re done you turn to Hyunjin who’s waiting for you at the door but his demeanor seems to have changed. His arms are crossed over his chest and he has a mean look on his face. You smile over at him as you start to leave the store but he doesn’t smile back, that’s odd. He opens the door for you and you take the lead exiting first and tucking the popcorn into your tote bag. 

“Excuse me, you’re looking really good tonight.” One of the guys standing outside of the store steps over to you and you flash him a small smile.

“Thanks.” You start to walk away but he speaks up again, stepping a bit closer to you.

“Can I have your number? I could take you out.” You shake your head, replying with a firm ‘No’ before starting to walk away again. Hyunjin places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you away from the group. 

“Come on, don’t be like that.” 

“She said no.” Hyunjin speaks up, his voice is loud and flat. You’ve never heard him use this tone before. It’s almost scary. The two of you start walking away again, Hyunjin makes sure to keep you in front of him as the two of you make your way towards the corner.

“I wasn’t fucking talking to you.” The guy follows the two of you. Picking up the pace as the two of you get further from him. “Come on, let me take you out sometime.”

“Keep walking.” Hyunjin whispers to you, pushing you forward a bit. He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, turning to face the guy following you. You can’t help but to look back as you walk away slowly, you can’t just leave him there by himself. Neither of you know what that guy is capable of. 

“Do we have a problem?”

~ Hyunjin’s POV ~

I’m using every ounce of my self control to keep my temper in check right now. If this guy decided to mess with me while I was alone that would be a different story but he’s messing with someone that I care about and I don’t like that. This has always been a trigger for me, Felix always says that I get scary when I get mad protecting someone else. I really don’t want that to happen right now, I don’t want her to see that side of me but this guy is making it very hard to hold back. 

“How about you mind your business.” He yells in my face, his breath reeks heavy of alcohol, that’s not even fair. If I hit him he’s going to be knocked out almost instantly, drunk people can never take a hit. 

“She is my business.” I cross my arms over my chest and clench my jaw. I have to remember that she’s here. I have to keep my cool. “She said no, leave her alone.”

“Ah, I see, she’s yours. Is that it? That’s your bitch?” I bite my bottom lip between my teeth as his last question rings through my ears. Don’t react, not while she’s here. “She likes pretty boys, huh?”

I look back at Y/n, she’s stopped at the corner watching me. I take a deep breath and uncross my arms, turning back around to the idiot in front of me.

“Leave her alone, alright?” I turn to walk away, trying my best to distance myself from him.

“Is this your boyfriend?” He yells over at Y/n but that’s not the only thing that makes me snap. He touched me, he pushed my shoulder as I was turning away and I felt my blood boil instantly. I don’t even remember what I did, my body went into autopilot. I can hear Y/n’s heavy footsteps as I stand over the disoriented stranger. My hand in a fist at my side, I’m shaking, why am I shaking? I haven’t felt this mad in years, I haven’t hit somebody in years, this isn’t how that was supposed to happen. I was supposed to keep my cool, why did he have to fuck it up? The more that reality sinks in, the more angry I get. 

“What did I just fucking tell you?” I don’t raise my voice, I never raise my voice, there’s no need to. I bend down, making sure to keep eye contact with him as I grab his shirt, and pull him towards me. “Leave her alone.”

I can hear myself, I can hear the hiss in my tone. I can feel the anger getting to my head, I can feel myself losing to it. That’s my problem, I don’t know when to stop, once I get started it’s hell getting out of it. 

“You should’ve listened.” I don’t want to hit him again but I feel like I need to, I need to get this feeling to go away and the only way that I know how is to keep going. 

“I’m sorry, man.” He pleads, I knew that he wouldn’t be able to take the hit but that just makes it easier for me. I push him back onto the sidewalk, letting go of his shirt and raise my fist almost by instinct. Before I can lower it I feel a hand wrap around my wrist, I stop for just a second as I remember who this is about. Y/n is with me, she saw everything. 

“Hyunjin, get up.” Her voice is firm but somehow soft, I wish that I could just listen to her. I want to listen to her, maybe I can?

 Despite my desire to stop, I don't move. My brain and my body are doing two different things and for a moment I feel guilty. This is going to be how it ends isn’t it? She’s going to think that I’m a horrible person, she’s going to hate me for putting her through this. My jaw clenches at the thought of losing her, glancing back down at the man in front of me I feel anger climbing up my spine again. Why couldn’t he just walk away?

“I told him to leave you alone.” I meant for my words to come out softer than they did but I can still hear the hiss in my voice, it’s muffled by the sound of my heart beating in my ears but I can hear it. She steps in between us, trying her best to pull me back, her grip tight and her voice stern. 

“Hyunjin, please get up.” In all of the years that I got into fights there has never been a person who could calm me down. I don’t know why it’s different with her, I don’t know why but I don't resist. I allow her to lower my fist, I allow her to stand between us and guide me to my feet. 

“Hey, look at me.” I listen, taking a deep breath and turning my attention towards her. I expected her to look angry, I expected her to have tears in her eyes or maybe even look scared. My mom would always be angry, Felix would always look scared but she looks calm. How could she look at me like that after this? I don’t deserve that.

“Good, you’re fine. Everything is fine, come on.” Her hands run over my forearms, as she tries her best to ground me and by some miracle it’s working. 

She takes both of my hands and starts to lead me away from him, I keep my eyes on her as we walk over to the corner. I try my best to calm myself down, taking deep breaths through my nose and going through every grounding exercise that I was ever taught. For some reason those techniques aren’t what help me the most, it’s the look in her eyes that's calming me down. It’s the relaxed tone of her voice and the way that she’s guiding me. No one’s ever done this before. I can feel the anger in my body being replaced, it’s that feeling of electricity. That feeling that I only get when I’m with her. 

I’m not sure how long we’ve been walking but when I finally come out of my thoughts and look back I don’t see the guy anymore. In fact, I’m pretty sure that we passed her block. We come up on a busier street, nothing too serious just a couple of people going about their night. She guides me over to a bench at the bus stop and we both sit in silence. I close my eyes, running my hands through my hair and sighing heavily. 

“Let me see your hand.” Her tone is sweet like she isn’t about to check me for bruises. She reaches for my hand, running her thumb across the back of it and I hiss in pain. That’s definitely going to be a different color tomorrow. “You’re gonna need to ice that.”

“I know the drill.” I reply in a flat whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“He deserved it.” I shake my head, turning to look at her and this time I really looked at her. I let her see the worry in my gaze, I let her see the fear that has bloomed in my stomach. 

“I’m not sorry for hitting him. I’m sorry that I almost didn’t stop, I didn’t want to stop and if you weren’t there I wouldn’t have. I would have done everything that I could to make sure that he ended up in the hospital.” I allow my gaze to drift down to my hands and it’s only then that I realize that I’m shaking. I’m still shaking, it must be the fear, not the anger.

“But you didn’t.” Her hand rests over my trembling one, petting my skin softly with the pads of her fingers. I let out a shaky exhale at the feeling of her skin against mine. “I told you that I’d be there to calm you down. I told you that it would be alright if I saw you like that and I meant it.”

“You don’t hate me?” My words leave my mouth in a whisper as I bite my bottom lip. Reluctantly, I look up at her, her expression is still so soft and calm. 

“Not one bit.”

← Previous Chapter ♡ Next Chapter →

[slumpsnail]

Process Post

The devil is in the details?

Time-lapse and more under the cut:

I read that some tieflings have forked tongues so I just wanted to draw Rolan with a very long forked tongue and then it turned into this punk rock au drawing. I liked the sketch so much, it ended up as a big paint.

The lighting is inspired flash photography, especially photos taken in a club and night scenes so my intention was to blow out the colors, hence the hot pink under sketch. I got attached to it and in the end the hot pink shows through in some areas which ultimately influenced some of the other colors. I was worried it would be too crazy but I thought to myself, don't be a coward just use them!

I love to bring back some of the core character details in AU stuff, so he's still a full time wizard and part time punk rocker haha. I gave him a thunderwave pin and his necklace is a section of the chest piece in his in-game clothes.

Anyway, thanks for reading this far :)! I think I'll keep making these process posts for my big paints. I'm learning to get better and faster at digital paintings, so it's helpful to log it but hopefully informative to you all as well!

Time-lapse and brushes below:

The brushes I used in this are from the COFE free and 2.0 brush pack, the base procreate brushes - inka, thylacine, and gouache, and Retro supply risograph brush for the bg.

[uwmspeccoll]

Old Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin, 1900

Wisconsin architect and printmaker Charles Clark Reynolds (1893-1969) produced this etching of the Door County port city of Sturgeon Bay for the Federal Art Project of the WPA in 1941. Reynolds, who was born in Sturgeon Bay, ran a successful architectural firm with offices in Manitowoc and Green Bay, Wisconsin from 1920-1934. Andrew Stevens, curator emeritus of prints, drawings and photographs at the Chazen Museum of Art at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, made these observations about another copy of the print at the Wisconsin Historical Society in his 1998 exhibition catalog, 150 Years of Wisconsin Printmaking:

The print's title and the notation on the plate that identifies the image as being "Sturgeon Bay 1900" suggest a nostalgic purpose for the work. Instead of presenting the city as it was when the print was made in 1941, he looked back forty years, perhaps by reference to photography, to present if at the turn of the century [as Reynolds himself would have known it as a boy]. As if to reference further the retrospective stance of the work, there is a pencil notation in the print's margin that identifies it as having been printed on antique paper. This retrospective aspect of the work . . . may also reflect some of the historical goals of other projects of the WPA.

Our copy of the print is part of a portfolio of prints from the Wisconsin WPA, and this image is from a digitized version of that print from our digital collection Wisconsin Arts Projects of the WPA, which was made possible with generous financial support from The Chipstone Foundation.

View other posts on prints by Charles Reynolds.

View more posts from our Wisconsin Arts Projects digital collection.

[misslavenderlady]

My Baby Bats 💜🦇

This post is in honor of @hypocriticaltypwriter and her own baby bats. This part is about The Lost Boys themselves. There will be a part two with Michael and Star!

So some of you know I love the Sims 4. Back in 2022 I made The Lost Boys in the game because ya girl is obsessed. I also made:

The Emersons

Star and Laddie

Max

Thorn and Nanook

The Frog Brothers

The cave

Grandpa's House

The comic book store

The boardwalk

And....I just so happened to put myself in the game with them. There was no official "story" at first. I just wanted to smooch my boys so bad, and seeing as I don't have any digital art programs (I used to draw but I'm sooooo rusty), the Sims was the perfect way to go about it. 🥰

My sim self had a daughter with each of the boys (because I too wanted to have a gang of Lost Girls lol). I named each girl after the actor their fathers play.

Pictures and story below~

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

David's Daughter - Kira (the closest I could get to Kiefer)

She admires her father more than anything in the world. She wants to be a good leader and an even better protector of her sisters. Kira never backs down from a fight, often having moments in childhood where she beat up bullies that were harassing her sisters. But she doesn't use her brawn though. She's as smart as a whip, using patience and strategy to navigate life. Always studying her surroundings and knowing what to say or do for her next step. She's a mysterious girl and never reveals what she's thinking or feeling. As far as Kira is concerned, she needs to be on her guard should something happen to her father and she needs to take over as head vampire. That being said, she's very sensitive deep down, and is incredibly close to her parents, never wanting to be away from them for too long. The anxiety overwhelms her. David worries about the pressure she puts on herself.

Dwayne's Daughter - Billie

Billie is a gentle and kind girl. She's quite shy, often keeping to herself whenever she's around someone outside of the family. As a little girl, she would often hide behind her father, too scared to even say hi to new people. Dwayne was incredibly patient with her, and eventually found a way for her to socialize without getting out of her comfort zone. He introduced her to animals and wildlife in the Santa Carla mountains, showing her the hidden beauties of the world. She loves animals so much, and likes to spend time caring for stray cats and dogs she sees on the streets. Billie also inherited her mother's love of writing, and enjoys poetry most. It helps her navigate life and the feelings she has.

Marko's Daughter - Alex

A little artist like her father, Alex has an eye for the most fascinating curiosities around her. She's a jack of all trades, enjoying everything from photography, to sketching, to painting, to jewelry making. She has so many ideas, and her dad is more than happy to support her vision. She's also a little troublemaker like Marko, often going out to spray graffiti on the walls of various Santa Carla buildings. She's not afraid of causing some mischief if it means expressing herself. Alex also has a fondness of spooky stuff. She has a crystal ball, a collection of candles, tarot cards, and has a planchet earring that she uses whenever she wants to break out the ouija board. She's loves playing fun, witchy games with her sisters during sleepovers. Stuff like Bloody Mary and Light as a Feather, Stuff as a board.

Paul's Daughter - Brooke

Oh she's definitely her father's daughter. Brooke is a little wild child, always eager for an adventure. She's got plenty of energy to burn, dancing and running and jumping off furniture. She loves to stay up late and play video games or have dance parties with her sisters. Above all, her biggest passion is music. Growing up she listened to her father play guitar a lot, and immediately got inspired. He was more than happy to teach her, and ever since then, she's had a dream of becoming a rock star. She's got the energy and the beautiful singing voice for it after all.

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

Here are some pics of the baby bats:

I'm gonna reblog this post with more baby bat pics from when the girls were little. Stay tuned!

[antia-calviz]

Genuine question, where did you learn to draw? I get that tons and tons of practice helps and all that but where did you learn to understand coloring and shading and lighting and anatomy and all that? Did you watch certain youtube videos? did you take a course? Did you go to art school? did you read certain books?

I adore your art, by the way. You are awesome. Have a good one.

thank u so much for your interest and for the compliment! this is gonna be a bit long but bear with me

im mostly self taught, however ive had the privilege of going to art school (animation and digital arts) + i got a full scholarship to take a masters degree in concept art and storyboard, so its really been a mixture of both. ive been lucky enough to have great teachers along the way, but the "tons of practice" is like 90% of what will make you a good artist

i think the most valuable part of art school is the people you meet / the networking. not everyone i went to school with had talent or even drive, and many talented people i work with today didnt go to art school. art skills can be learned by anyone, but it does take a lot of time and effort.

about my specific experience when learning skills like color, lighting anatomy etc :

color:

i used to be very scared/intimidated by color, but what made it more accessible were those color pallette challenges from back in the day, where people would pick a pallette and a character and you had to make it work. so, in this case limitations helped me undestand many things.

i still dont feel like i have the best grip on color theory yet, my use of color has always been very intuitive which is not the best. however having a color wheel is always handy. This one is my favorite. It even has options as to which kind of combinations you can use (Triads, Complementary colors, Adjacent, etc,). using the color wheel is a way to ensure your colors are always in harmony.

shading/ lighting:

lighting is quite the topic. i had a teacher who was a director of photography for stop motion and he mostly taught us traditional photography terminology such as this. The same terms and concepts apply to painting, so getting familiar with these can help you understand different kinds of light and what theyre commonly used for.

studying the masters is a must. throughout art history there have been artists that became legends for their specific and often disruptive use of lighting. off the top of my head, some artists that master lighting are: rembrandt, joaquin sorolla, vermeer, john singer sargent, maxfield parrish, caravaggio, etc. There are many excellent contemporary painters, if it's any help, i like to collect ref and inspiration in my insp blog.

animation color scripts can also help understand how to sythetize light in drawing AND especially to use lighting to evoke emotion.

anatomy:

there are a trillion options on studying anatomy from books, which i feel are very helpful when you need to understand how bones and muscles work. I dont have a particular rec for this, but most are accessible in bookstores/libraries and will give you a decent notion of the mechanics of the human body. same goes for animal anatomy.

anatomy is one of the fundamentals that you need to practice most. figure drawing and gesture drawing are two great ways to practice. theyre not the same thing, but complementary. figure drawing focuses on anatomy, proportion, line of action, while gesture drawing focuses of the action of a person (what they are doing, how they are doing it, and what they might be feeling while doing it).

a live sketching session with a model (preferably nude) is one of the best ways to learn, however this option is not very accesible so here are a few alternatives.

going outside and sitting at a cafe, at a park, airport, public transport or any public setting where people gather is a great way to practice. since people are always moving and shifting, this tecnique will make you focus on drawing loosely and quickly. and after a few sessions youll notice you start to focus on capturing the essence of the pose, the proportions and the general gesture of the person youre drawing. this will help you synthesize better and quicker.

another thing that works well (and is even more accessible) is sitting down with your sketchbook or tablet and sketching times poses from Line of Action, its quick and easy and even 10 - 15 minutes of practice a day will make your anatomy skills improve a lot.

A few useful books (these are animation oriented, but art fundamentals nonetheless) :

Color and Light by James Gurney

Framed Ink + Framed Ink 2 by Marcos Mateu-Mestre

Layout & Composition for Animation by Ed Ghertner

How to Draw a Character The Foolproof Method by Soizic Mouton

The Complete Color Harmony, Pantone Edition Expert Color Information for Professional Results by Leatrice Eiseman

Learn from 100 Famous Artists by 21 Draw

How to Draw drawing and sketching objects and environments from your imagination by Scott Robertson and Thomas Bertling

The Character Designer by 21 Draw

The illusion of life Disney animation by Frank Thomas, Ollie Johnston (this one is mostly abt animation, but having an animation background can influence the way you draw, so depends on what you want)

The Silver Way Techniques, Tips, and Tutorials for Effective Character Design by Stephen Silver

100 Tuesday Tips by Griz and Norm

i have most if not all of these in pdf, if anyone's interested i could send a .zip with the files via email :)

i hope this helps!! if you have any other questions im happy to answer! happy drawing!

[izumikoushiroweek]

Koushiro Izumi Week 2024 Prompts

Koushiro week aims to offer flexibility and a variety of prompts, so that fans with different talents and amounts of free time can participate!

Entrants are free to select among the prompts on any day, or treat every day as a free day!  You can post as many or as few times as you choose.  

There is only one day with a set theme.  Friday, October 25th will be Reblog Day! Entrants are encouraged to reblog their Koushiro and Tentomon content on that day, but please only reblog items that are not already on the Koushiro Week archive. I will make a special post on reblog day honoring our beautiful archive! Let’s share the Koushiro and Tentomon love, even if we are busy!

Event tag: izumikoushiroweek2024

Please find the prompts beneath the cut! You can use a prompt from any year. It gets harder every year to make new prompts, apologies for that (and for any repetitive/overlapping prompts). Please feel free to send suggestions!

New Prompts for 2024

Koushiro as a Son

Explore Koushiro's relationship with Kae and/or Masami! What is it like to be a parent to a kid or adult child who is so instrumental to the Digital World and everything that goes with that? How do they relate to him? Maybe draw the family going out, or Kae bringing snacks to Koushiro and Tentomon, or Koushiro appreciating his parents.

Koushiro as a Father

Koushiro's daughter is adorable, show us her! Or explore their relationship, how Koushiro feels about being a parent, how he struggles/grows/flourishes as one, how he relates to his daughter.

No Tech!

For whatever reason, Koushiro does not have access to any tech! How does he contribute/cope? Or maybe he just takes a nice day off?

Koushiro: Pillar of the Chosen

We have prompts about Koushiro as a CEO, but what if we focus on Koushiro as the head of the Chosen? What is he doing to support the Chosen, local and global, as he grows up? If he travels, can he stay pretty much anywhere with a Chosen he's helped at some point? What do Chosen think of him around the world? What do non-Chosen think? How does Koushiro cope with the pressure, or does he feel supported by thousands of Chosen?

Koushiro's Day Off, With or Without Friends

What do Koushiro and Tentomon do on an off day? Do the Chosen take him out sometimes? What does each Chosen like to do with him? Does Koushiro go along with anything, just to broaden his horizons?

Dressing Koushiro

I love the idea of each of the Chosen (or any character!) suggesting outfits for Koushiro when he's in his fashion phase. What would he look like if Yamato offered his wardrobe or picked an outfit that suited his (Yamato's) tastes? What about Takeru, lol?

Hobbies

What kind of hobbies might Koushiro explore? What hobbies might his friends encourage him to try?

Exploring the Digital World

Where are some of Koushiro's/Tentomon's favorite places in the Digital World? Do you think he goes there to think? Does he ever just... Sort of vanish there for a few hours, to remind himself what he's working so hard for, or just to breathe? You can draw the places, describe them, or work it into a fic/ficlet! Or share screen grabs/gifs/etc.

Appreciation

The Japanese Chosen (or the global Chosen!) try to thank Koushiro for all his help and support over the years. What do they come up with? How does it make Koushiro feel?

Music

What kind of music do you think Koushiro and Tentomon like? Do you have a Koushiro/Tentomon playlist to share? Koushiro and Miyako helped process music for Yamato's bands (explicitly The Teenage Wolves, but why not his other bands and future music?). What was that like?

Koushiro the Creative

Koushiro is highly entrenched in tech stuff. I wondered... Does he see himself as creative, or does that feel foreign to him? Does he have creative outlets? Maybe photography with Hikari or writing with Takeru? Or maybe a friend can help him see that the things he does ARE creative?

Growing

I mean this physically, but feel free to take it where you'd like! But Koushiro is a Short King who really shoots up between 02 and Tri. I wondered how he feels about that? Or if it was annoying to suddenly not fit into his wardrobe as he shot up?

Koushiro and the 02 Crew

Koushiro gets a lot of screen time in 02 (bless!). How does he feel about the younger Chosen? How do they feel about him? Write or draw him hanging out with his other crew!

2023 Prompts

Crest of Knowledge What does the crest of knowledge mean to you? What do you think it means to Koushiro and Tentomon? How about the people who love them?

It’s lonely at the top What is it like to be an outlier? Over the course of Adventure, Koushiro learns to use his gift to connect to others, rather than as a means to cope with lack of connection. This is beautiful, but still, being an outlier has to… complicate things. Do you think classmates or coworkers resent him and his success? Koushiro launches a business after high school. What is it like to have people relying on him for their livelihoods at such a young age? Do his older employees balk at having someone so young above them? Does he feel that he’s missing out on higher education and fun college activities?

What are your Koushiro headcanons?

Alternate Universe Do you have any AU Koushiro designs? Alternate haircuts? Show us your wildest Koushiro dreams, from mermaids to crossovers to epic fantasy!

Koushiro the mentor

Koushiro often takes on the role of mentor. He’s a member of both the Adventure and the 02 teams and works hard to support everyone. Show us Koushiro offering support to the Chosen: younger, older, or both! Explore his unique role and what it means to him. Does he enjoy sharing knowledge? Does he want to remain as involved as possible with the Digital World, even when the 02 crew takes over? So many Koushiros!

What is your favorite iteration of Koushiro? Adventure, 02, Tri, Kizuna, the reboot, the movies? Izzy and the various Koushiro dub iterations?

What is your favorite canon Koushiro outfit?

Show us a screenshot or draw it!

What is your favorite Koushiro or Izzy quote? How about Tentomon?

Screenshots/illustrations are encouraged, but not required.

Koushiro and Tentomon Screencap redraw

Koushiro memes!

Koushiro is Extremely Online, the boy has seen a meme in his day. Invent a Koushiro meme, or place him in an existing one! What memes do you think Koushiro would like?

Do you relate to Koushiro?

How so? Alternatively, what do you love about him and Tentomon?

What is something you wish we saw happen for Koushiro in canon?

I know we all have wish lists! Share yours!

Koushiro interacting with his parents I cannot get enough of the Izumis!

Prodigious!

What is your favorite prodigious moment? What do you love about Izzy? What are your thoughts about Koushiro vs Izzy?

Emotion As Koushiro grows more confident, perhaps he begins expressing his feelings more. Does he see this as a good thing (growth, trust that he is allowed to show how he feels), or regression (why can’t I control myself like I used to)? How does Koushiro feel about personal expression and his emotions?

2022 Prompts

Feel free to use prompts from last year, or to re-interpret and explore ones you already used!

Koushiro and Tentomon 

Wanna try your take on the classic Koushiro and Tentomon hug in the trolley?  Or show us the boys being adorable, living their best lives together?  The Koushiro and Tentomon relationship is so sweet, there is so much to explore here!

Adoption/family 

Koushiro tells his friends about the adoption, visits the graves of his biological parents, meets his first ever biological relative when he has his daughter, spends time with his parents, etc.  Also, Tentomon absolutely sobbing when he meets Koushiro’s kids, lol!

Friends/life outside of the Chosen

We don’t see much of Koushiro’s personal life throughout the Adventure content.  What does this boy get up to?  Who are his friends, both local and spread over the world?  What are his hobbies?  We know Koushiro is an incredible researcher/tech expert, but he is also a normal kiddo.

Confidence/the Chosen love you for you/everyone loves Koushiro

Koushiro struggles with self worth and confidence over Adventure.  We see him find his way as the Digimon Tech Expert, but we know he’s so much more than that!  Let’s explore Koushiro realizing that he’s needed and valued beyond his skills, and that he doesn’t need to be helpful to connect to and be loved by others- and that he very much is loved.

Confiding 

Koushiro doesn’t discuss his personal life onscreen during Adventure, except to Tentomon and his parents.  It would be amazing to explore him confiding in his friends.

Casual 

Koushiro tries to speak more casually to his friends- this is inspired by this post.

Koushiro as the head of Chosen information/Koushiro’s company

What does Koushiro get up to in his company in Kizuna?  How is he funding global Chosen activity and also researching and also having a life?  How does he juggle everything?  Does everyone look up to the guy who is making sure the global Chosen have the resources and information they need to operate?  Are his friends concerned?  

Plz help 

Koushiro needs help, and the others rise up- whether he asks them to or not, lol!  Maybe he’s stressed by work, juggling too much, or just in a research vortex and hasn’t come up for air in a while.  Maybe a Chosen convinces him to lean on them and take a break.  Or maybe someone pushes him to do “something fun,” and shenanigans ensue!  Maybe Tentomon secretly calls the Chosen when Koushiro enters a Work Vortex or seems down.

Oolong tea

A classic, lol!

FASHUN

Koushiro explores fashion and style!  Show us your best Koushiro Disaster Kouture ™, or show him growing out of that stage and settling into what you imagine his style might become.  Does all the screen time result in glasses someday?  

Eyebrows

Show us a range of Koushiro facial expressions!  Dem brows are there for a reason >:3 

Assistant Tentomon

Tentomon the mighty, making sure Koushiro remembers to Human (eat, sleep, call friends, etc).  Tentomon, acting as Koushiro’s secretary/assistant.  Tentomon learning how to research on his own!  Tentomon sending an SOS when Koushiro needs some help, but is too polite to reach out.

Mochimon

HIM CUTE!  HIM ROUND!  SHOW US HIM!

Koushiro and Bugs

Koushiro sipping from a ladybug mug, Koushiro being gifted ladybug items, Koushiro finding ladybugs or beetles and thinking of Tentomon, Koushiro taking a bug outside when someone else wants to squish it, Koushiro casually revealing that he has an encyclopedic knowledge of beetles for Reasons.

Computer Club President Koushiro

Koushiro was the computer club president in 02 (hopefully this is true of both the English dub and original Japanese)!  That would be so cute to explore!

Koushiro Playing Violin

Inspired by this.

[tigreblvnc]

BLUE LOCK MATCHUP EXCHANGE — @lyraa19

Your match is...

— Bachira Meguru

✦ I'm sorry, I checked your bio after checking your Picrew and…

✦ …I only had Chigiri in my mind throughout my reading.

✦ I think you two would look super cool, for real.

✦ But then I put my superficial side aside and thought logically.

✦ Some of your sentences caught my attention.

✦ "I like open-minded people" and mostly: "I like when someone is gentle, can talk but also listen, has a big heart, is not afraid to stand out and be a bit unconventional in society’s eyes."

✦ This is super Bachira-coded, you know. It's like summoning him.

✦ "I want to be seen and heard." It sounds like a powerful quote on a movie poster.

✦ Also: "Someone who’s their truest self unapologetically." I was thinking that you found the most perfect fandom for this one since every character in Blue Lock is led to reveal themselves in their truest aspects on the field. Especially because there is no other choice if they want to succeed, you know.

✦ So yeah, when thinking of the best match for you, Chigiri took a step back -- or rather, Bachira jumped to the forefront.

✦ (The fact that you speak Spanish also makes me think of FC Barcha, which Bachira is a part of.)

✦ From the little I know about astrology, one of the best matches for Libras are Leos. Air and fire elements stimulate each other in a positive way. It's like in reality; air helps fire to rise.

✦ …And without air, there's no fire.

✦ Very proud of your 95 to 99% score average in love, marriage, communication, and so on.

✦ "I like to do art too, from digitally drawing to hand embroidery, photography occasionally, and handmade crafts." We know that Bachira's mother is an artist, and I like to think that Bachira inherited his original side from his mom. He shows his creativity on the field, especially when dribbling. We all remember his superb comeback during the second selection match when he was on Rin's team, against Isagi's.

✦ His style is very dynamic and uncommon, and I'm sure you would love to see his new tricks on the field.

✦ "Tarot cards, spirituality, crystals, astrology." I don't really see him being into this kind of stuff, but I can totally picture him being curious about it. Asking questions like, "And what does this card mean?" "Can you see my energy color right now?" "Are we compatible?"

✦ I think, except when he's at Blue Lock, he totally has the habit of going to bed very late just to continue talking about something interesting with someone.

✦ Eventually, he falls asleep on your lap.

✦ Bachira is the most optimistic guy ever; don't worry about the bad vibes—you won't get them with him.

✦ I tend to say it's a positive trait, but someone who does their best to avoid real subjects, or those that can hurt, can be led to miscommunication in the long term. This happened to Bachira during his match against Isagi, Barou, and Nagi: he completely dove into the darkness, not knowing how to act so he wouldn't be left behind.

✦ He has an inherent fear of being forgotten and abandoned. Even more when it comes to his soccer skills.

✦ That leads me to the next point:

✦ "I like to give gifts and quality time." I'm sorry, but it's totally acknowledged in the manga that Bachira's favorite thing is to receive gifts.

✦ And the fact that you're good at giving a listening ear (that's how I interpret this love language, at least), I also think you could detect when he's down or in a bad mood but doesn't want to admit it.

✦ Of course, since our precious bee is strongly sensitive, Bachira would burst into tears once you realize he's not doing as well as he claims.

✦ Tears release endorphins, the feel-good hormone, so it's actually a blessing in disguise for him. For you.

✦ He ends up smiling, cuddling you warmly, cheeks all red.

✦ "Thanks, Lyra."

✦ Take good care of this big baby. <3

A word about your match: Like I said, I initially thought of Chigiri, and I still think the two of you would look super classy together. So in terms of appearance, the red panther suits you very well. But when it comes to personality, it's all about you and our happy bee.

© TIGREBLVNC 2024 | INTERESTED IN A MATCHUP EXCHANGE? CHECK THIS.

[cerealmonster15]

For the date ideas post, may I slip a note under your door that says Idikei? K bye! 🏃‍♀️

HELLO. this ended up being way longer than i planned initially JFKDLSJKLF sorry it took forever but also THANK YOU for the suggestion i LOVE IDIKEI i'm so glad i had reason to make myself sit and write for them!

This was written as a prompt from this post! I asked for someone to suggest a ship, and I would randomly draw numbers for the rest of the categories. I pulled:

Date type: Wedding date

Date idea: Getting ice cream[x] and strolling through a park

How the date is going: Super romantic

I may have taken some liberties with the prompts LOL but the overall vibe is there.

[Ao3 Link]

Title: Blue Raspberry Mango

Word Count: 5,224

Rating: G

Summary: Idia absolutely cannot show up to Azul's wedding while he's still single. Can you IMAGINE the obnoxious gloating he'd have to endure? Good thing his best buddy Cater Diamond is willing to help him avoid such a perilous fate!

“Oh my god, Trey,” Cater sighed between bites of risotto, “No one does it like you! I miss your cooking SO much!”

“Cater, don’t talk with your mouth full,” Riddle chided from across the table, but smiled nonetheless. “I suppose that means you’ll just have to come visit us more often, doesn’t it?”

“You know our door is always open for you,” Trey agreed.

“Provided you call first,” Riddle added. “It’s good manners.”

Cater laughed. He was glad his job in photography allowed him to travel around and ultimately landed him in the Queendom of Roses for most of his work. He’d never expected that he’d see so much of his old friends after graduation  and yet… Here he was, years later, sitting at the dinner table with two of his best friends in the entire world.

“Ooh, speaking of getting together for some mingle time,” Cater said, a grin spreading wide across his face as he spoke. “Did you guys get the invite to Jamil and Azul’s wedding!?”

“We did.” Trey stood for a moment to step into the living room, returning shortly with a familiar card that he placed on the table. “Riddle already sent our RSVP, of course. You’re going too, I assume?”

“So punctual!” Cater winked at Riddle, then nodded. “And OBVI. Cay-Cay’s not about to miss a once in a lifetime event like this! Idia says Azul’s inviting practically everyone from our NRC days. Something about wanting to ‘flaunt his happy marriage to everyone that doubted him,’ or something like that. You know how Azul loves his theatrics.”

“Ugh, yes,” Riddle scrunched up his nose, “I’m sure Azul will love reminding me - again - how he and Jamil managed to schedule a wedding before Trey and I have.”

Trey chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of Riddle’s head on his way back into the kitchen to retrieve dessert. “You know it’s not a competition.”

“It is to Azul, and he certainly believes he’s winning,” Riddle sighed, but then turned his focus back to Cater. “And how is Idia doing? I imagine you’re one of the few that he willingly keeps in contact with from NRC these days, yes?”

Cater nodded, a sense of pride filling in his chest at the acknowledgement that Cater was, in fact, one of the rare people Idia spent time talking with. On PURPOSE, even! “I sure am! He’s chill doin’ his thing over at S.T.Y.X. with Ortho. He still games with Lils on the ‘reg, and I think he and Azul do these, like, speedy flash matches on Chess.com? I don’t know if they even talk to each other. I think they just like the thrill of trying to digitally kill each other or whatever.”

Still, gaming and asserting dominance over virtual board games was practically the social pinnacle when it came to Idia Shroud.

Riddle raised a curious eyebrow. “Chess… Dot com…?”

Cater already had his phone out. “I’ll send you the link, and I'll get Idia and Azul’s usernames for you. I bet they’ll be thrilled to have a fresh opponent.” 

He pulled his phone out, despite Riddle’s unspoken no texting at the dinner table rule, and sent a quick text to Idia.

Cater: heyyy whats ur chess.com username or w/e + also azuls

To which Idia replied almost instantly, as he tended to do with Cater whenever he wasn’t physically too busy to multitask.

Idia: no way ur actually signing up for chess.com unprompted. whats it for

Idia: also ew why azul lol

Cater huffed a small laugh through his nose at the incoming messages while he sent the website link to Riddle, and then swapped back to Idia’s messages.

Cater: lol u know me so well bestie ~ it’s for riddle!

Cater: cmooooon u know u and azul would have fun doin one of those speedster rounds with him lol

Idia: they’re called bullet rounds 😑 w/e ya i’ll txt u the info

Idia: or yknow. he could wait to get it at the wedding. 👀👀👀

Cater gasped out loud, followed by a squeak of delight, causing both Trey and Riddle to look at him curiously.

“Whatever’s happening on your phone must be very interesting,” Trey said, “because you haven’t even glanced at the plate in front of you.”

There was, in fact, a new plate in front of Cater. A plate with a beautifully sliced, dark chocolate tart, topped with fresh strawberries and raspberries. A compromise, of course, as Trey trained himself in the art of locating more semisweet desserts back at NRC, so Cater wouldn’t feel completely shut out when it was time to bring dessert to the table. 

A subtle reminder to Cater that he was very loved by his dear friend.

“Aw, sorry Trey!” Cater set his phone down and took a bite of the tart. Perfectly balanced flavors, as always. “I just got excited! Sounds like Idia’s able to make it to Azul’s wedding after all. We weren’t sure ‘cause of his schedule, but I guess he managed to clear things up in time!”

“That’s good,” Riddle said, a light smirk forming across his face, “because I think we all know Azul would never let Idia hear the end of it if he failed to show.”

Cater’s phone lit up again, another text from Idia displayed for all to see.

Idia: ummmm ahem nows the part where u ask me if i cleared my schedule so i could go ( which ya i did) so that i can smoothly lead in2 asking u for a favor

Idia: cmon cay stay on the ball 🙄 

Riddle sighed. “Why don’t you just call him? There’s no use pretending you aren’t distracted by his texts going off every few seconds. It’s faster.”

Cater COULD argue that he and Idia weren’t exactly ‘callers’ so much as ‘texters’ or ‘video chatting in the privacy of their own homes while multitasking on six other activities’, but… He figured it was best not to start a disagreement with Riddle of all people.

After about three rings, Idia answered. “I-it’s not such a big favor that you needed to call me…” he sheepishly mumbled into the receiver.

Cater smiled. Idia was always so shy in the first few seconds of a call, planned or not. “Yeah, yeah, but I don’t wanna bug Riddle and Trey with my constant text notifs-”

“You know how to put your phone on silent.”

“Idiaaa…” Cater pouted, and though Idia couldn’t see his face, he could definitely hear it in Cater’s tone. “Just tell me what’s up?”

Idia exhaled a long, drawn out, dramatic sigh, before responding. “‘Kay, fine, whatever. Basically, I need you to LARP as my player 2 at Azul’s wedding. Y’know, secret stealth mission style.”

A long pause.

“...Huh?” Cater eloquently replied. “Um, what?”

“Uuughhh, this is why I didn't wanna have to explain out looouuud,” Idia groaned. “Listen. You know Azul. I know Azul. The dude invented the concept of being an insufferable, smug little bitch.”

That last comment pulled a full laugh out of Cater. “OMG, Idia, if that’s the kind of stuff you say about your besties, I’d hate to hear you tell me about your enemies!”

As if Cater hadn’t heard endless gamer rants time and time again about randos online that Idia felt personally wronged and slighted by. He knew exactly how cutting and fired up Idia could get, so by comparison, Idia was being gentle with Azul.

“LOL, Azul’s no bestie - but N-E-Way, circling back to the prime objective… Um…” Idia’s voice grew quieter as he cleared his throat. “What I’m saying is… There’s a 100% chance Azul’s gonna rub his stupid new marriage in my face, like, ‘Ohh, Idia, still single, are you? Wow, what’s that like? Can’t relate, Jamil and I are sooo happy in our stupid normie marriage, here come look at my ring did you see my ring-’ like, DUH I saw the stupid ring! He only emailed me a billion pictures of it!”

EMAIL?! Cater bit back a laugh. That was so on-brand for Azul.

“So, uh, anyway…” Idia resumed his mumbly, more reminiscent of NRC days tone of voice. “I wanna… Lie. W-With you.”

WHA-

“N-N-Not like, physically!” Idia quickly followed up before Cater could interject. “I mean, like, deceit! Lies and slander but without the slander! I want you to pretend to be my wedding date!”

“Your… Your wedding date?” Cater repeated, earning a couple of curious glances from Trey and Riddle. “Wait, what? You want me to pretend to be your date just so Azul doesn’t think you’re single?”

Trey raised an eyebrow. Riddle furrowed his brows together with a frown.

Cater pretended not to see.

“Exactly!” Idia responded with a sigh of relief that Cater was still following. “If he thinks I have a new b-boyfriend, he’ll have slightly less reason to be annoying towards me specifically! And it has to be believable anyway, right? You’re one of the few people I still talk to post-grad, so…”

It also didn’t hurt that Cater would be high up in Idia’s top 10 list of prettiest guys to ever graduate from NRC. And NO, it didn’t matter who the other nine on that list were, thank you very much.

“Well, for one, I’m totes flattered,” Cater said. “But, d’you think we’d be able to pull something like that off?”

“Cater!” Riddle interrupted. “You cannot seriously be considering-!”

“Shh,” Trey softly interrupted Riddle’s interruption. “Let’s see where they go with it, first.”

Riddle relented with a pout, leaning into Trey’s shoulder and watching Cater closely.

Idia huffed into the receiver. “What, because the Riddle Police is gonna expose us before we even try?”

“Aw, nooo, Riddle can keep a secret! Right, Riddle?” Cater covered the phone with his hand and offered Riddle and Trey his best, sweetest, pleading smile - complete with as much eyelash fluttering he could muster on the spot. A classic Cater Diamond move.

Riddle and Trey both sighed at the all-too familiar sight. 

“Cater,” Trey said, “You can’t weasel your way out of every situation with a cute face.”

“Ooh, is that a challenge?” Cater winked, then dissolved into giggles as Riddle crossed his arms and continued to pout at him.

“I don’t exactly feel right about you two lying for such frivolous reasons, but… I can’t say I don’t fully… Understand.” After all, having graduated alongside Azul, Riddle just might understand better than anyone why they might feel tempted to go about such a way to avoid Azul’s smug tendencies. “Just don’t expect Trey or me to carry any outlandish stories for either of you!”

“Yay!” Cater cheered, uncovering the receiver and speaking back into the phone. “No biggie, Idia. We’re all good over here!”

“Wait, so you’re in, then!?” Idia asked. He hadn’t really expected this to go so well, but he figured if anyone would be willing to hear him out, it would be Cater. He was always down for a fun shenanigan, after all, but still… “I kinda thought I’d have to do a little more convincing, TBH. I even wrote a speech-”

“Lemme hear it anyway!”

“No!” Idia shouted. “You already agreed, so no take-backs!”

Cater giggled. “Hehe, alright, alright! Let’s do a vid call when I get home later, and we can start planning our coordinated outfits!”

–

The wedding itself was beautiful, obviously. Cater and Idia wondered just how much bickering likely went on behind the scenes for Jamil and Azul to find a compromise between Azul’s need for an extravagant, flashy-yet-tasteful, show-off wedding, and Jamil perhaps wanting something more lowkey and humble.

Or, perhaps they truly both wanted to show off to their former classmates, as the wedding ultimately ended up very ‘cammable, as Cater made sure to tell Idia every five minutes. 

“God, did you see these centerpiece flowers?” Cater giggled between sips of champagne as he clutched Idia’s arm and tugged him over to a nearby table. He nearly spilled the glass on his shirt trying to pull his phone out of his pocket, and was saved only by Idia reaching over to pluck the champagne flute from his hand and finish drinking it himself. 

“Heh, failed your dex saving throw,” Idia grinned. “And yeah, I saw those same flowers when you pointed them out ten minutes ago.”

“Uh, ‘scuse me for getting excited about all the photo ops, babe.”

Idia rolled his eyes at the obvious teasing, but a few giggles spilled from his mouth all the same. Surely it was due to the champagne that he felt so lighthearted and giddy, despite being trapped at such a bustling social event.

“Well, well…” The familiar voice of Azul Ashengrotto called out from behind the pair as he and Jamil - arm in arm, much like Idia and Cater - approached. “It would seem that your message wasn’t full of baseless fabrications just to try and distract me from our active chess match after all, hmm?”

Cater couldn’t hold back from openly, loudly laughing. “Wait- Idia, did you for realsies RSVP to their wedding over Chess.com?!”

“Yes, he did,” Jamil sighed. 

“Oh, don’t act like it didn’t make you laugh too, my dear.” Azul patted Jamil on the arm, to which Jamil responded with a snort and roll of his eyes. 

“That being said,'' Azul continued, “I really couldn’t believe it until I saw it for myself in person. You two really did end up together after all, then?'' His piercing gaze shifted from Idia to Cater, and then back to Idia with a growing, devilish grin. “Your cute little high school crush never faded after all these years?”

Idia gasped. Oh, he should've known this was the route Azul would take the second he didn’t have a chance to gloat about Idia being single. Of course Azul wouldn’t forget about the forbidden knowledge he collected back in the olden days of NRC. An elephant - or in this case, an octopus - never forgets! And this particular octopus still had that stupid, smug grin on his face that Idia was so hoping to avoid.

But, there truly was no avoiding smugness when Azul Ashengrotto was involved; both Idia and Cater were fools if they thought they could prove otherwise.

And speaking of Cater, his gasp was even louder than Idia’s. “OMG. A crush!? You had a crush on me when we were in school?”

Idia instinctively reached for the hood that he was not wearing. Curse these fancy wedding clothes and their stupid, hoodless collars… “U-um! So what if I did?!”

“You never told me!” Cater huffed with the PUFFIEST cheeks he could muster. Trey and Riddle could say what they want, but his cute pouts were his most powerful weapon! … After his unique magic, probably.

“The poor thing thought you were dating Trey for the longest time,” Azul interjected, clearly pleased with the direction this conversation had gone. Idia’s flustered look of betrayal was more than satisfying.

“Wh-!? I literally TOLD YOU when Trey started dating Riddle!” 

“Okay, well, I thought you three had some sort of secret polycule hidden route thing going on in your IRL VN of a life!” Idia huffed, crossing his arms in what was probably a more adorably huffy look than he intended. 

“Oh? What’s the matter?” Azul asked, his smarmy grin not faltering in the slightest. “You’re together now, are you not? No need to be so embarrassed… Right?”

Oh. So that’s how it was. Azul was a doubter and a HATER, huh?

“Ugh,” Idia grumbled. “Anyone would get embarrassed when you go aggro-mode like that with forbidden lore of the past!” He reached for Cater’s hand as he spoke, and gripped it firmly in defiance of Azul’s stupid smug face. 

“Um, yeah, totes!” Cater returned his friendly, dazzling smile to his face. “Besides, I think it’s cute. Look how far we’ve come!”

“Maybe your wedding will be next, then.” Jamil said, a tiny smirk tugging on his lips as Idia once again failed to hide his jittery reaction. 

“Oh, please,” Cater laughed. “I think Riddle might actually kill me if we cut ahead of him and Trey.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Azul chuckled. “And how long have those two been engaged, again?”

“UUGGHHH,” Cater groaned with every ounce of drama he could muster. “Don’t rush them! You KNOW Riddle isn’t gonna cut a single corner when it comes to having the perfect wedding!”

“Well, I’d say we managed to do so quite efficiently,” Azul said, not even pretending to be humble. “I couldn’t afford to waste time, after all. I wanted to marry the love of my life as soon as possi-”

“God, you’re so cringe, Azul,” Idia interrupted, crinkling his nose at Azul’s shameless, sappy proclamations of love for his partner while he and Cater were still standing RIGHT THERE! 

Cater decided that perhaps this was his and Idia’s cue to escape the conversation. “Um! Y’know what, Idia?” He said, starting to tug Idia in the opposite direction. “I totally feel inspired by their lovey-dovey vibes. Let’s go dance!”

“Wh-!” Idia’s protests dissolved in his throat as Cater swiftly pulled him through the crowd and back to the dance floor. Idia, of course, complained, but when Cater asked him if he’d rather dance together or go back and continue talking to Azul, the protests quickly stopped.

And so they danced - Cater led Idia through a range of more traditional dances that Riddle taught him over the years, and plenty of modern dance trends that Cater practiced through watching hours of viral Magicam videos. Idia, though nervous at first, soon forgot his fear of prying eyes as he and Cater got lost in the moment together. Cater wasn’t the only one with dances to teach, after all! Idia made sure to show Cater just how much he learned through all his hours of watching idol group music videos.

Perhaps their dancing strayed a bit from the theme of the actual music playing, but that didn’t matter to them. Idia and Cater had fun off to the side in their little pocket of the dance floor together, occasionally joined by a former classmate now and then, or pausing to make conversation. It really WAS  an NRC reunion, intentional or not.

And it was exciting! Exciting… And really, really draining.

“...Idi-BB,” Cater sighed, draping an arm around Idia’s shoulders and leaning against him with a few exhausted pants. “I’m, like, so spent from all our hardcore grooving. Y’’wanna go outside for some fresh air and a sensory break?”

“Yes,” Idia wheezed, nodding with equally exhausted enthusiasm. 

The two promptly fled the scene, getting themselves out of the crowded venue and across the street to a quiet little park that was decorated with seasonal lights and flowers.

“Azul and Jamil really know how to pick a location,” Cater murmured as he and Idia walked under an arch of twinkling lights and found their way to a bench. “Even the nearby lots are top-tier photogenic. It looks like there’s even some kind of night market going on at this park.”

“Just what we need,” Idia complained, “MORE activities.”

“Hey, c’mon, at least over here we don’t have the obligation to talk to anyone. No familiar faces at a random market! And besides…” Cater pointed towards one of the trucks with pretty lights and colorful signage. “That one looks like it’s selling ice cream!”

“You don’t even like ice cream!”

“But you do…” Cater mumbled, and then grinned. “Plus, ice cream from vendors always looks super pretty. So, like, you get a sweet treat, and I get sweet pics! It’s a win-win, really.” 

“Do you ever take a day off your photographer brain?”

“Absolutely not. The ‘cam life was simply my calling, as my professional website can show you. I still can’t believe Azul didn’t even ask to hire me for wedding photos, TBH.”

“You wouldn’t’ve wanted to,” Idia said, slowly standing up and inching over to the ice cream truck-slash-booth. “Azul would have crazy annoying standards and requests, and would no doubt try and squeeze out a ‘friends and family’ discount from you.”

“Ugh, totes,” Cater shook his head, walking alongside Idia towards the truck “I’d rather take it easy and enjoy the event as a guest, anyway. Much more fun!”

He paused for a moment, peering at the menu. “Looks like they've got some flavors based on the Great Seven - Ooh, OMG, you should get that one!” 

Idia looked at the menu item Cater pointed at and read it aloud. “...King of the Underworld Cone: Mango and Habanero Sorbet, topped with blue raspberry syrup and chili-lime flakes, and served in a blue raspberry cone.”

“I love a good mango-chili combo! And the colors are perfectly coordinated to match our hair. You’ve gotta get it so we can take a cute selfie under the lights!”

Idia sighed, but pulled out his wallet as Cater ordered it for him. It DID sound pretty good, so he wasn’t going to fight it. He allowed Cater to hold the cone and pull him back over to the bench, pull him in close, and finally snap the photo before he finally got to try the ice cream.

“Jeeze, you seriously haven’t let up on the selfie-taking all evening,” Idia said between licks. “It really is like we’re back at school.” He held the cone out to Cater, tilting his head and silently offering him a taste.

“Aw, c’mon!” Cater paused, eyeing the ice cream suspiciously for a movement before lowering his head and giving it a tiny, curious lick. “...Ooo, spicy! That’s not bad.” He smiled, then turned back to his phone to text Idia the photo. “And anyway, I’ve def let up on the selfies these days, especially since I take pics for a living now.” Cater supplemented his statement with yet another pout. “Besides, today was a special occasion! Like, hello? It’s a WEDDING, and there were a ton of people I haven’t seen in years!”

Cater reached over to boop Idia on the tip of his nose. “Like you, mister! You live so far away and with such a complex job, I haven’t seen you in, like, LITERALLY forever…” He sighed, dropping his head onto Idia’s shoulder.

It was a warm and familiar sensation to the both of them. Near the end of their time at NRC, the two spent many a late night in Idia’s room binge watching anime or pop idol music videos together, which almost always ended with Cater laying half asleep propped against Idia’s side. The first three dozen times it happened, it would send Idia into a silent, internal freak out spiral, but through the exposure therapy of Cater’s consistent sleepiness, he eventually not only grew used to the feeling, but started to yearn for it on nights he watched shows alone.

“...Tell Riddle and Trey to hurry up on their wedding planning, then,” Idia mumbled into his ice cream. “If I know about it early enough, it’d be easier to fit into my busy boss-lord schedule.”

Cater’s ears perked up. “Oh? Would you really go to their wedding?! I know you weren’t as close to Riddle and Trey as you are with Azul … But then again, I guess you have been playing those online chess matches with Riddle ever since we signed him up.”

“Never doubt a warrior’s bond over a chess board,” Idia snickered. “A-And, uh, yeah. I’d go, but… Only ‘cause I know we’d get to see each other again, or whatever… O-Ortho would probably want to go, anyway, so… Might as well.”

“Aww!” Cater picked his head up to beam at Idia, eyes shining with delight. “You better promise! ‘Cause I WILL be there, and I’ll be on official photographer duty, so you should start planning your perfect outfit now. There’s no hiding from this professional shutterbug!”

“Wha-?” Idia scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. “Weren’t you just saying you were glad you didn’t have to put up with Azul’s picky perfectionism and just wanted to enjoy being a guest? You don’t seriously think Riddle Rosehearts would be any less difficult a client than Azul, do you?”

Cater laughed. “Oh, don’t worry, Idia. you’re forgetting one very crucial detail!”

“...What’s that?”

“Riddle is my bestie, and I love him.”

Idia burst out laughing, quickly covering his mouth to avoid spewing blue and orange droplets everywhere. “The power of friendship is gonna save you from Teapot Tyrant meltdowns?”

“Hey!” Cater protested. “I’ll have you know that Riddle is MUCH more mellow these days-”

“Heh. You should see the chat logs from our last chess match.”

“Oh my god,” Cater rolled his eyes. “ANYWAY, I’ll have you know I’m the perfect person for the role. Trey and I stood by Riddle’s side for two years running Heartslabyul and herding underclassmen around. Riddle trusted my aesthetic eye when it came to setting up tea parties, and I earned that role, thank you very much! I’m a trained professional in both photography AND Riddle de-escalation tactics.”

Idia laughed again as Cater dropped his head back down onto his shoulder. Really, he couldn’t argue with that logic. After Trey, Cater really was the only other person from their school days that knew how to handle the ins and outs of a Riddle Rosehearts tantrum.

Still, a lot had changed over the years…

“...Did you really have a crush on me when we were in school?”

Idia nearly choked on the half-crunched cone that he just shoved into his mouth. “WH- GHK- CATER!” 

Cater quickly sat up again and started patting Idia on the back while he coughed up blue chunks. “OMG- Don’t you dare die on me before giving me an answer!”

A few more coughs and wheezes, a rough swallow of ice cream remains, and then Idia finally spoke again. “...Ugh... Hey, what’s with the sneak attack!? Don’t you think I took enough psychic damage when Azul brought that up earlier?!”

“No!” Cater huffed. “Because you never even told me! Why’d I have to find out from AZUL?”

“B-B-Because…” Idia stammered, “Why would- I told you I thought you were dating Trey and kind of also Riddle back then! And there was also that one time you came over to hang out after you’d been to a party in Pomefiore, and you told me you kissed Rook Hunt!”

Cater gasped. “OMG, I can’t believe you remember that. I almost don’t remember that!”

“Of course I remember!” Idia took his turn to pout, now that the ice cream cone was finally finished and no longer a hazard to his theatrics. “I had a huge crush on you! OBVIOUSLY I’m gonna sit and agonize endlessly over every little detail you told me about your love life - and also my own headcanons to your love life, apparently. You were my super hot best friend and I was the school shut-in!”

Cater gasped. “You thought I was hot?”

“I still think  you’re hot!” Idia shouted, and then slammed his hands over his mouth as his eyes blew wide open and the tips of his hair flushed into a bright shade of pink, flaming wisps dancing wildly around his face.

Cater stared silently back at Idia with equally wide eyes as silence filled the air between them.

Idia promptly spent the next ten seconds planning out how he could escape and have Ortho help him fake his own death, only to be interrupted by Cater speaking again.

“...It’s kinda like the universe is playing a trick on us, don’tcha think?” 

When Idia’s only response was more panicked stares, Cater continued. “Um, like… Neither of us was really ever the type to seriously ask someone out, y’know? So we were both just… Sitting on our feelings.”

Idia finally managed to find his voice again as he squeaked out a reply. “Wh-?! Both? ‘O-our’ feelings?! You never-!”

“Ugh, Idia, please,” Cater grabbed Idia by the shoulders and turned him so they were facing each other. “I fell asleep on your shoulder WAY more times than I’ve ever gotten sleepy hanging out with Trey, and he and I were roomies for two years straight!”

“...How many times did you fall asleep on Tr-”

“NOT important! Just- Listen…” Cater closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He slid his hands down from Idia’s shoulders to his hands, then opened his eyes and looked at Idia very seriously. “...I… Also still think you’re hot.”

“Wh- Don’t make fun of me!” Idia shrieked, his face now matching the color of the tips of his hair as he attempted - unsuccessfully - to wiggle his way out of Cater’s grasp.

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t help it!” Cater giggled, tugging Idia closer. “But I'm not making fun, I swear! You really are still a Grade-A hottie after all these years!”

Idia paused his squirming to glance sideways at Cater. “..Enough to kiss me instead of Rook at a party?”

Cater gasped in shock, and it was Idia’s turn to laugh. 

“IDIA! You’re so much bolder these days, jeeze….” A sly grin spread across Cater’s face, and he leaned closer. “But, y’know… We ARE at a wedding party, and Rook is one of the guests.

Idia went quiet again, freezing in place as he watched Cater’s face move closer.

“Totes within kissable range if we went back, I guess… But I kinda don’t wanna get on Vil and Leona’s bad side, y’know?”

He leaned in closer, and hoped Idia couldn’t hear the anxious hammering of his heart against his chest.

“And… You’re a lot closer… And a lot cuter, TBH…”

Cater paused, averting his eyes to the side. Waiting. 

The offer was on the table, and it was up to Idia what happened next. The following five seconds stretched across what felt like eons to them both as Idia focused all his energy on trying not to literally pass out on the bench and take Cater down with him, or get overwhelmed by the possibility that if he DID kiss Cater, Cater might immediately throw up all over him and run away screaming. Really, it wasn’t that he didn’t WANT to kiss Cater, but what if he died? What if they both died!?

Well, they didn’t die. The agonizing seconds passed, but Idia decided that if he DID die, he’d rather go out knowing what Cater Diamond’s lips felt like against his, even if just one time. 

The kiss itself was quick, but had the weight of ten thousand hammers crashing into their walls of repressed feelings built up over several years.

Idia pulled back first, watching Cater cautiously for any signs of nausea.

But, Cater smiled at him, a nervous giggle bubbling from his lips. “That was-”

“BIG BROTHER? CATER DIAMOND? WHERE ARE YOU!?” Ortho Shroud’s shouted out in the distance from the direction of the wedding venue.

Oh, shit. How long had they been hiding out at that park, again?

“We… We should probably… Go back…” Idia mumbled.

“Y-yeah…” Cater slowly backed off of Idia, face flushed, but had not let go of his hands. “We… We should talk tonight, yeah?”

Idia wordlessly nodded, clutching Cater’s hands like his life depended on it.They headed back towards the wedding venue, hand-in-hand, both ignoring the internal dread from within at the growing realization that they both, somehow, had Azul Ashengrotto to thank for this.

[fromthedust]

Jerry Uelsmann (American, 1934-1922)

When I was an undergraduate in the early 1970s Jerry Uelsmann was a visiting artist and gave a slide lecture showing his photographs at the school. I was enamored of his work, and when I took photography classes I tried (unsuccessfully) to emulate his work. My problem with that was that I tried to do it in the camera rather than in the darkroom.

Uelsmann decided the contents of the final print after rather than before pressing the shutter button — his photomontages were all done in the darkroom. Uelsmann constructed his dreams like a visual poet with results that often seemed emotionally more real than the factual world. His work influenced generations of both analog and digital photographers. Although he admired digital photography, he remained completely dedicated to the alchemy of film photography in the black and white darkroom — no Photoshop.

Prior to his sessions in the darkroom, he would study hundreds of negatives using contact sheets (proof sheets). The final print could take hours or days to resolve, but the journey was always magical according to Uelsmann. Trial and error were essential steps. A persistent theme was about the never ending mysteries of life. Beginning in the mid-1960s Uelsmann preferred the title, Untitled, for most of his photographs to invite various interpretations. He described his persona as “an unapologetic romantic” who loves working in the darkroom. Uelsmann produced composite photographs with multiple negatives and extensive darkroom work. He operated up to a dozen enlargers to produce his final images drawing from a large archive of negatives. When beginning a photomontage, he had a strong intuitive sense of what he was looking for, some strategy for how to find it, and an understanding that mistakes are inevitable and are part of the creative process. His darkroom session began by studying his negatives. He covered a large drafting table with hundreds of proof sheets. He folded and overlapped various contact prints, explored the visual possibilities, then brought the options into his darkroom. The negatives he had chosen were placed into different enlargers. He moved the photo paper progressively down the line of enlargers building up an image. Uelsmann was a firm believer that the final image need not be tied to a single negative.