#but yeah whatever heres my first ever drawing with an art tablet and my most recent | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sombreboy · 4 years ago

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Dining out⇢kth x jjk

⇢18+ ⇢pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook (brief ft.Namjoon & Jisoo) ⇢genre: Smut, fluff, mxm, married couple ⇢word count: 8k ⇢warnings: Profanity, dumb humor, lil secret touching under the dinner table, bratty sub tae, dom daddy jk, I swear the daddy kink is heavy for these boys sometimes and this is one of those times, puppy petname; CHECK, blowjob, finger sucking, fingering, filming their shenanigans with their phone, tae fucks himself on jk's big doink then gets fucked good, meme ending because i am too lazy but at least you got a good fucking in. xo

A/N: Serves as a oneshot within the Love Maze series AU, however can also be read on it’s own. Co-written with my lovely @velvetwicebang <3

“Okay, remember to feed her every two to three hours.” Jimin nodded; blonde hair bobbing as he did so. The man carefully bounced the babbling baby on his hip, suppressing the need to roll his eyes at Taehyung’s constant reminders.

They’d only be gone for a few hours; but Taeyeon’s fathers were treating this like a five-month vacation.

“Her formula is in the bag, and so is her apple sauce! Sometimes she gets fussy right after she eats, so rub her tummy and give her a few pats on the back. Also, there’s diapers—“

“Guys, we know. We’ve looked after her before, remember?” Jimin reached out to place a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder; unknowing of Taeyeon’s infatuation with his boyfriend’s tattoos.

He didn’t have as many as her daddy Koo, but her shiny, doe eyes curiously scanned over the new piece of art. She found his eyes cool..

“No, I know.” Taehyung sighed, knowing he needed to calm the fuck down— but, Taeyeon.. but their date night.. “Normally we would’ve left her with Namjoon and Jisoo, but obviously that isn’t an option.”

“Cool, we’re the second choice. Nice.” Jimin wasn’t truly hurt by his friend’s careless reveal, only chuckling as he reassured them of the best.

“Shit, Jimin, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s just she knows them bet—“

“Tae, be quiet before I throw this apple sauce at you.”

Taehyung’s mouth was glued shut.

“Just go out and have fun, alright? We’ll look after Taeyeon, she’s in good hands. You seem stressed out as hell, I dunno, maybe even fuck it out while you’re at it.”

Tae simply sighed, detaching himself from Jungkook’s arm to press a soft kiss onto Taeyeon’s head, bidding his temporary goodbyes.

“Okay, well.. we’re leaving. We should be back soon. Thanks, again.”

"Thanks guys, don't hesitate to call us if you need to!" Jungkook chirped, a bit less worried than his husband. Surprisingly, Taehyung seemed to be the one who was always extra, extra protective and worried about separating from their little daughter. Now, Kook was a worrier himself, but he never thought he'd be the one tugging at the elder to finally be able to let go of being a father for just one second.

Kook's eyes met with the little doe eyes their daughter mirrored, his toothy grin growing as she quickly resumed her attention towards the tall man. He might've looked a bit intimidating at first, but everyone quickly learned that he was probably the softest one of them all.

Jungkook pulled Taehyung with him quickly, closing the door behind them before heading towards their car. They haven't been able to get this kind of time to be a couple for quite a while, and both of them were excited-- and anxious. It was routine by now with their child, and breaking it was harder than it seemed. BUT, fuck, did they need it. Stress was no joke with these men. Work, eat, sleep, clean, shit... Take care of the baby, make time for each other?

It wasn't easy, but they were a team. And did they make a damn good one.

"You look good." Jungkook grasped for Tae's hand to hold it cutely by the car. "We should take a picture of this rare occasion of both of us being properly put together at the same time for once."

“You’re right. This is rare as fuck..” Taehyung’s shoulders dropped to a less unnatural position, deep-set brows resuming to their place, ripening his facial muscles. He hooked an arm around Jungkook’s delicate waist, pulling him in until their sides touched. “Let the photographer do the honors, ey?” Cocky as ever, the elder’s hand uninvitingly reached inside of Koo’s back pocket, searching for the younger’s phone whilst he hummed into their short-lived kiss. Tae pulled away with a dorky smile, angling the high-tech device towards the starry sky, a wash of light shining down on them as if the cluster of stars themselves were on their side; working towards getting them the perfect picture.

It was cheesy— every second of it— but, Taehyung found his anxiety crumbling the longer they spent taking silly photos, so he said: ‘fuck it’.

“I like this one, you look like a full course meal.” Tae nudged his husband’s side, believable as he mercilessly teased. “Ah, okay. We should get going before Joon thinks we’ve bailed or something, you know he always thinks of the worst.” The elder climbed onto the passenger seat, twisting his body to reach for the seatbelt. “How much do you wanna bet Jisoo is holding him back from making a phone call right now?”

Jungkook's bunny-like grin grew at the compliment, the apple of his cheeks tinted with a rosy hue. He grabbed his cell phone back from his husband before sitting down in the driver's seat, deciding to post their selfie on his Instagram.

"I bet she took his phone away already. If not, they'll see our pretty picture." Kook scrunched his nose before placing his phone down in his front pocket. He starts the car and backs out on the driveway, giving their home one last glance before driving off.

"I'm excited, honestly. We haven't had a second for ourselves lately." The younger sighed, eyes flickering to keep his attention on the traffic. With one hand on the steering wheel, the other reached over to smooth over Taehyung's thigh as if to soothe him.. Koo could easily tell the elder was still having a bit of separation anxiety for leaving their daughter with their friends... "Let's enjoy this to the fullest, don't think too much. You know what would be nice? A few drinks to loosen up a bit."

“Yeah, I need that.” Taehyung knew Koo could see right through him. It was no secret that the elder’s mind lingered somewhere else; Taeyeon, to be exact. Tae knew he was extremely overprotective, it was never something he’d felt ashamed of in the past. What could you expect from someone who grew up in a hostile environment when they were younger?— it pained him to think this way, but.. If his own father could raise a hand at him, what would a stranger be capable of doing? Of course Tae didn’t think any of their friends would obtain such malice, nor were they strangers to Taeyeon. The opposite, in fact. Each and every one of their hyungs held a special place in the girl’s heart. The elder guessed that his past’s trauma arose now that he was a father himself. Taehyung wanted to do better.

Jungkook's smile didn't falter from his face the entire ride, the faint tugging of his lips in excitement a constant reminder of how relieved he actually is to be able to get some time alone to focus on his friends-- and especially his husband for the night. He pulled up into the restaurant parking lot, the scent coming off the building already hitting their noses even as they sat outside in their car. Kook inhaled with a content sigh, leg almost jumping in excitement. He was a foodie after all-- and since he finally has a stable income along with Taehyung, he's never had to worry whether or not there'd be food on the table. Cheesy one might say, but once in a while the younger still enjoyed to microwave some noodles on occasion either way.

"We're here." He cooed joyfully as he clicked the seatbelt off to lean over to the passenger seat, placing a haste kiss on Taehyung's cheek. He lingered, letting his lips hover over the elders skin. Taking a moment, he drank in the view. Taehyung has always been the most handsome man that Jungkook had ever laid eyes on, and as the years passed by quickly, that still never changed. One would say Taehyung only became hotter, aging like a fine wine.

"You look so good tonight... I won't be able to keep my eyes off you." Kook smiled, cupping Taehyung's cheek to draw him in for a proper kiss.

Taehyung giggled in the midst of their kiss, the sound so small and indistinct, but in the calming stillness of a parked vehicle it was impossible for its vibrations to go over one’s head. It definitely went noticed by the culprit himself, who blushed at the abrupt realization that even after many years spent by Koo’s side, the latter always knew how to make him feel beautiful..

“Thanks. You look really good too, baby..” Tae licked over his lips, able to still taste Jungkook despite the younger having pulled away. “Fuck, okay. Let’s go in; I’m hungry and Joon’s probably losing it by now.”

“Where the hell were you guys? We’ve been waiting for what—“ Namjoon’s eyes flickered down to his watch, “—fifteen minutes?”

Taehyung snorted, “What do you want us to do? Get down on the ground and bow at your feet?”

“You know what? Hell yea—“

Jisoo stepped in, speaking on behalf of her husband, “No need for any major bows here.. Ah, please sit down. Joon’s extra dramatic when he’s hungry.”

"You're not you when you're hungry." Jungkook recited the old commercial with a giggle, shaking his head at how bad it was-- but so funny to his young mind. He sat down in the booth across from Jisoo, with Taehyung sliding down next to him to sit across from Joon.

"Fifteen minutes is precious cooking time at a place like this, Kook. Don't joke--"

"Won't happen again hyung!" Jungkook saluted clearly, his toothy grin too effective towards Joon-- whether he wanted to admit it or not. His bunny-like smile would never cease to work as a secret weapon...

"Whatever." Namjoon grumbled as he picked up the digital device on the table used to order their food.

"How have you guys been?" Jisoo chirped as she glanced over at the little tablet, clicking occasionally to help navigate Joon's confused behavior towards the device.

"Stressed." Jungkook sighed, leaning his head against Taehyung's shoulder. "Having a child is no joke, there's never a dull day. But I love it, though." Kook mused, waiting for their turn with the tablet, reaching out for it when Jisoo had completely taken over to order for her and her husband. He stares at the contents for a moment, showing Tae the various choices of alcohol, hovering with his finger over the stronger drinks with a coy eyebrow.

“You know me too well.” Taehyung returned the favor, imitating Koo’s raised brow before pointing at the drink of his choice; Tae was aware he needed to chillax. And alcohol never disappoints.

Once they were finished ordering their starting drinks, the elder dismissed the tablet to the side. He scooted closer to Jungkook until they were practically squished together in spite of the extra space; playing with his husband’s fingers from under the table.

“Yeah, Taeyeon’s a handful.” The corner of Taehyung’s lips twitched upwards as he amusingly breathed out through his nose, mind tracing back to their daughter. “But she’s cute though, so it makes up for it.” The elder turned his head to look at Kook, “Also, this guy right here is pretty good with babies.”

Jisoo voiced out her agreement, reminded of the older days when Jungkook would help her with Yuna once he was done with school. Now her friend was married, and caring after a baby of his own.. Proud was an understatement in Jisoo’s mind. Every time she looked at Koo her heart swelled; the boy she once knew had grown into a man. But then again, Jungkook had always been really mature. In a sense, it’s the same guy Jisoo’s always considered her close friend— and fed on the daily.. “Joon could learn a few things..”

The mumbling under the older woman’s breath didn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon, who came to his own defense as quickly as lightning strikes the ground, “I showed up to the wrong preschool once!”

Taehyung butted in, confused but amused, “You forgot where your son goes to school?” Tae’s shoulders vibrated as he laughed, suddenly feeling much better about his own mishaps as a parent.

“The drinks can come out anytime now..” Namjoon tried to swerve away from the topic; his failed attempt at being sly earned himself a couple rounds of laughter.

Yeah, maybe Taehyung needed this..

As the tray of drinks finally arrived, they were left to sip on whatever they've ordered while waiting for their dinner. Jisoo and Namjoon both opted for the simple choice; beer. While Jungkook was an avid enthusiast of alcohol, whether it be beer, tequila, wine... He did settle for a large glass of wine, perfect for the occasion on his end-- and perfect as it always got him pleasantly warmed up.

"Ah, I'm so hungry...." Jungkook groaned, waiting for that big, fat juicy steak he'd seen on the screen. Meat was his one true love-- if you'd disregard the fact that his husband existed. He worked out just as avidly as he did in their younger days.. Well, tried to, and therefore his appetite was comparable to that of a horse.

"You're always hungry!" Jisoo joked, slapping Joon's shoulder as she laughed.

"Yah! Why'd you hit me?!" Namjoon nudged her shoulder back with his dimpled smile.

"Ah, food!" Jungkook's big, doe eyes sparkled with a childlike joy when the food finally arrived, jaw hanging open in pure admiration.

Taehyung chimed out loud along with Koo, ignoring Jisoo’s and Namjoon’s playful banter in the background. All that was on his mind at the moment was, ‘must eat’. Taeyeon snuck in there once in a while, but Tae trusted Jimin and his boyfriend. They’ve always returned his baby back in one piece, so that’s that. Maybe the alcohol was helping; he wasn’t as restless.

“Fuuck,” Taehyung knocked his head back, resting it against the backrest of the booth whilst he chewed on the piece of meat, savoring the burst of flavor that’d just popped in his mouth. “Koo, here.” It didn’t matter that they ordered the same meal, Tae still cut out a small piece for his husband to try. He blew on it before guiding it into Jungkook’s mouth, “Fucking delicious, right?”

Jungkook chomped the piece of meat off the fork with his bunny teeth, chewing it happily. His eyes widened as he nodded, humming in content. Food did taste better when it was from your husband's plate, confirmed. "So fucking good, oh my god.. " Koo agreed. Both men were just feeding off of each other's plates at this point, letting out all their curses and groans occasionally. Being censored on the daily was harder than they thought, and finally letting it all out--- somewhat satisfying.

Namjoon eyed the couple with a mix of disgust for their cheesiness, yet the dimples proved that he couldn't hold his smile for the two. They were grown ass men, and yet they acted like dorky the teens they’ve always been the moment they are together like this. It was endearing.

"What? You want me to feed you too?" Jisoo nudged Joon with a coy smile on her lips, immediately laughing when he shook his head.

"Definitely not." He joked back. He hated to share his food-- but so did Jisoo, so it was okay.

The evening went on for a bit, everyone talking-- rather, Namjoon rambling about everything and nothing while the rest ate, drank, and drank....

Jungkook couldn't help but continuously look over at his husband. He was just so fucking hot, when was the last time he was able to truly admire him like this? Forever ago.. A few drinks in and Koo's cheeks were hot, hazy eyes only half listening to the rambling from the other side of the table, nodding absentmindedly. His hand, however, decided to snake over to the elder's lap, gently rubbing up and down the soft fabrics, feeling the firm muscle underneath.

Taehyung was just as buzzed; their conversations only stuck with him for a couple of seconds before he reached for his glass of wine, downing the remainder of the scarlet drink. He was loosening up, or so he thought.. The meat of the elder’s thigh clenched, and his dimmed eyes averted downwards towards the source of the unexpected caress on his leg. With barely any space between the two, Tae awkwardly shifted around in his seat— however, he didn’t bother on pushing Jungkook’s hand away.

He liked it..

It’s been a hot minute since his husband put this much attention on him. The touch was small, but even such delicacy had Taehyung’s hormones in a twist..

“What are you doing?” He leaned in to whisper into Koo’s ear, resting his own hand on the younger’s thigh. Tae told himself that it was for balance, but even he knew that wasn’t exactly the truth. “Fuck, you’re hard,” his hand had slithered upwards to Jungkook’s crotch, groping his husband’s cock through the fabric of Kook’s pants.

"What are you doing? ah.." Jungkook's thighs quivered, gently bucking up into Tae's hand as he desperately tried to act unaffected. Not that the other couple would notice-- they were just as buzzed, just rambling, occasionally bantering... Koo barely noticed their presence at this point.

All he could think about was Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung...

"You just look so hot, babe, how could I not be hard?.." He huffed quietly, the hand on Tae's thigh mirroring the elders movements by palming his husband's cock right back, able to feel the shape and girth of it through the fabrics. "Shit, what I'd do to have you on your knees below this table instead..."

Taehyung’s shrunken pupils vigilantly switched between his husband and the other couple in front of them, until he realized there was no need..

Joon and Jisoo weren’t quite at their level, but it was obvious the beer had gotten to their systems if the cheesy mumbles and sudden display of affection were anything to go by. They were never cheesy— in front of them, at least.

“Don’t tempt me, we’ll probably get banned from this place or something..” Tae’s drunken smile beamed in the dimmed lighting before his lips abruptly took the shape of an ‘o’. Embarrassed, he nuzzled his nose in the dip of Jungkook’s neck, continuing to rub and squeeze Koo’s prominent bulge at a fixed pace despite crumbling underneath the younger’s teasing himself. “It’s been so long since I really got to feel you like this, and it’s been too long since you’ve felt me; really felt me..”

“Let us in on the secrets! Don’t be so secretiveee, it’s not nice, y’know.” Jisoo loudly sipped on her water’s straw, lips closing in on the frail plastic after her third try— her aim when drunk was amusing.

“This feels like all the way back to, uh, second grade was it? When all my buds talked shit behind my back ‘n crap.”

The woman pouted, “Awe, babe, fuck those kids. Look at you now, with mee! They wish they had me.”

Namjoon understood in spite of her strong slurring, “They’ll never have you, mine.”

Taehyung turned to look back at Jungkook, face reading; ‘what the fuck’. “Wanna get out of here? Kinda want some.. privacy.”

Jungkook couldn't even play it cool at this point, his eager nodding proving just how badly he wanted to get out of there as well-- if his throbbing erection wasn't enough to go by. "Yeah, please." Kook’s ragged breath whispered back, withdrawing his hand from Taehyung's crotch to inhale deeply. "Follow me... I have a fun idea." Since they couldn't go home, nor did they have a hotel room for the night-- there was only one option the younger could think of. A fun one, in his own mind. It's been a long fucking time since they did something a little risky... Jungkook was gonna try to say something to the other couple, but it was easier than he expected to have them accept their disappearance, so he simply got up, leaning down to whisper once again into Tae's ear.

"I'll be waiting in the bathroom... You have two minutes. No more, no less." He cooed, a mischievous grin on his lips as he placed a gentle kiss on the elders cheek before strolling off towards the bathroom area, closing the door behind him. The anticipation-- the small amount of waiting was enough to rile him up even further. And surely he hoped it did the same to Taehyung.

Fuck the bathroom, I’ll willingly get down on my knees right at this second— Is what Taehyung wanted to say, but he was far too stunned to even respond with a dumb nod of his head. Jungkook had strutted away without waiting for an answer, and for that Tae was glad.. Every time the younger asserted his natural dominance, Taehyung was left a flustered, unable-to-form-coherent-sentences mess. The elder was convinced the alluring words that slipped past Koo’s lips tasted like honey; they were sweet and sticky, making it awfully hard for Taehyung to forget them.

“I’ll be waiting in the bathroom.. You have two minutes. No more, no less.”

The man didn’t realize he’d been stalling until Jisoo asked him where Jungkook had gone off to.

“He’s.. somewhere. I’m going to the restroom, I’ll be back.” He kept it short ‘n sweet, knowing that whatever was going to happen in the secluded space would be anything but. Jungkook liked taking his time, and Taehyung enjoyed taking all his husband had to offer. The elder loved drowning himself in the moment, which is why he’d grown keen of using his beloved camera for other reasons.. Taehyung looked back on the films a lot— it was hot, and it gave him an excuse to miss Jungkook whilst he was away at work. More often than not Tae couldn’t act on his sexual desires; only settling for giving Koo a messy hand job before they called it a night. But today? It was going to be different.

Taehyung’s eager hand slowly turned on the doorknob, brows arched in anticipation when he’d met Jungkook’s gaze on the other side. It was a family restroom, meaning it was quite small. There were no stalls, only space meant for one. Or two..

Tae’s back was pressed up against the door as he pushed it shut, making sure to lock it. He stayed still in his place, arms shyly tucked from behind him. “I think I went over two minutes, daddy.”

"You did, puppy." The corner of Jungkook's lip curved into a smirk as he moved forward, barely a few steps before he was already towering over his husband. Internally, he was eager.. Impatient in every sense of the word. But tonight was a once in a while occasion, and it didn't occur often enough for him to waste it on a quick fuck. He'd been longing for this opportunity to truly feel Taehyung again, and boy.. was his body itching to feel everything.

"Can't even follow one simple instruction.." Jungkook tsk'd playfully, pressing up his body against Tae's, deliberately brushing their crotches together to make sure the elder felt just how hard he was for him already. "What do I do with a boy that misbehaves..." Now, Taehyung was anything but a boy-- but making the elder feel smaller was one of his favorite things to do, belittling him until he was nothing but a whiny, pleading sweetheart. Kook grasped Tae's chin in his long, tattooed grasp to demand eye contact, tilting his head lightly to the side like a curious pup would. "Do you need a reminder of why you call me daddy?"

“Hmm... I think I do..” Taehyung’s tongue peeked out from the small, surprised opening of his flushed lips, brushing over the moisturized skin and wetting it with its saliva. A hitched gasp followed suit, emphasizing the gloss-like effect he’d made for himself; Taehyung knew Koo was a sucker for the posh look. Slowly, his lips relaxed, and Taehyung’s intense gaze clashed with his husband’s. He allowed the latter to feel superior by standing tall before him, while Tae cowered in his place. The delicate, firm hold on his chin was beginning to make itself known, but the elder didn’t dare move out of Jungkook’s clutch. “Remind me, Koo.. why do I call you daddy?” Taehyung’s hands gripped at the younger’s hips, stifling his faint moans as their crotches pressed against one another.

It’s been too fucking long.

“What makes you worthy of that title?” He kept on pushing, wishing Kook would drop the foreplay and fuck him numb once and for all.. The elder was less patient, but he was just as needy.

Jungkook's lips curled into a smirk to serve as a response to Taehyung's daring words, knowing just how needy his husband was to just be stuffed with his cock already. But what the younger loved even more, was the buildup-- to make Tae so flushed and desperate that when he finally gets what he desires, it'll be more than worth the wait.

"Ah, my baby has already forgotten...." He huffs through heavy breaths, leaning forward to kiss his husband. As his tongue claimed the elder's mouth as his own to explore as he wishes, his hands hungrily roamed down his body, feeling and groping at every curve before they began to unbutton Tae's shirt, exposing his flushed skin. Without wasting another second, Jungkook's hands smoothed up Tae's stomach, his thumbs swiping over the elder's nipples softly-- at first. He groaned into the hot kiss, not stopping his hungry ministrations all while continuously teasing Tae's perky nipples, lightly pinching them between the calloused pads of his fingers.

Taehyung’s frail body squirmed in delight, the skin of his chest buried in small goosebumps whilst Jungkook spared him no mercy on one of his most responsive areas. The filthy noises of mild fulfillment scratched at the back of the elder’s throat, calling out for vocal release only to get pushed back down by Kook’s tongue.

“Mmhm..” Tae vaguely hummed into the heated kiss, hot puffs of air slipping past his nose, warming Jungkook’s already sultry skin. Everything about the younger was hot; like a predictable summer’s day.. Just one kiss and Taehyung began melting against him, his smaller body frame molding against the barely-noticeable dip from Jungkook’s chest to his pelvis. Eager, Tae never stopped rubbing their crotches together, driving his husband’s hips towards his own.

“Fuck, babe...” Tae whimpered once he pulled away from the kiss, chest rising while his lungs worked to retrieve back air. Taehyung’s head tipped backwards, bottom lip caught in between his teeth as he nonverbally encouraged Koo to continue playing with his sensitive nipples.

“Daddy.. please film me.” Tae might not have his camera at hand, but something about the quality of a phone turned him on. The elder wants to be able to look back on this moment.. He wants to be able to see his reflection in the mirror while Jungkook fucks him— phone held tightly in his hand. Tae wants Koo to focus on the way his cock sinks deep into him, catching Taehyung’s loud, hiccupy moans on video. They’ve filmed themselves a few times in the past, but Tae’s camera was set up on a tripod. Now, they had the opportunity to pilot a phone how they pleased. Jungkook could pan in on whatever he wanted, get a close-up of the goodies.. “Please, daddy. I’ll be a good boy... I’ll squeeze around you so tight. I’ll be so warm.. fuck— I’ll be your little bitch until you stuff me full of your cum. Then I’ll be nothing but your cum dumpster..”

Jungkook's cock twitched heavily beneath the fabrics, the thought alone of filming his husband in such a scenario bringing him more excitement than he expected. Tae’s cameras were fun, the quality superb... but using his phone seemed so much more intimate, it had the younger heated in excitement.

"Fuck yes... I'll stuff you so well. But first..." Kook placed his hands on the elders shoulders, using his strength to force him down on his knees. With a swift motion, he unbuckled his pants and tugged them down, too eager to wait for his cock to be engulfed by Tae’s plushy lips. His cock bobbed when set free, letting it freely taunt Taehyung as he dug for his cellphone in his back pocket. "Suck on it, puppy." His low, raspy tone was laced with lust, eyes staring at Taehyung's lips through the camera screen on his phone when he pointed it down from his view. "When it's nice and wet, I'll fuck your tight ass until you can barely walk out of here."

“Whatever you say, daddy..” His warm hands skimmed upwards from Jungkook’s beautifully muscular thighs to the latter’s base, where Taehyung took his time feeling the younger’s cock. He began by lazily flicking his wrist, multitasking while the other hand kneaded his husband’s balls. Taehyung played innocent, staring up at the camera whilst his tongue circled around the head; his long eyelashes fluttering in a coy manner.

“Daddy.. daddy, you’re so fucking hot when you’re in control.” Closing his eyes, Tae leaned back in, slowly taking all of Jungkook into the warmth of his mouth. He’s had plenty of practice, his gag reflex was practically nonexistent at this point in their relationship. Taehyung guessed all of those times he’d sucked Jungkook off under the covers when their friends were around— or when he got too impatient and gave Koo the suck of his life in the middle of the grocery store’s parking lot. Not to mention, the birthdays when he’d woken Jungkook up with his limp cock throat-deep in Taehyung’s mouth. They all paid off when it came to unplanned moments such as this one.

Tae hollowed out his cheeks, bobbing his head as he dragged his tongue from Kook’s base to the tip, leaving a trail of saliva along the hardened girth. He’d gotten so consumed in the moment, that Taehyung had forgotten all about the camera.

"Whoa, so pretty when you take my cock like that..." Jungkook's voice was shaky, already feeling the muscles in his thighs tense up. Taehyung knew exactly how to suck him off properly, every drag and movement done with the utmost purpose, hitting every sensitive nerve that riles up Kook to the max.

"I can tell you love it, fuck..." He stated as if it was a fact, and it was. Kook kept one hand gently combing through Tae's dark curls, brushing his fringe away to be able to get a proper visual of the elder through his phone screen, focusing on how his husbands plush lips stretch with the younger's girth, the slick saliva on his silky skin glistening even in his digital eye. "Okay, baby, that's enough... Spit on it and get up, pull down your pants and bend over the sink. Need a good view of your pretty ass."

Taehyung might be a natural-born brat in other aspects, but he never disobeyed Kook’s orders inside of the bedroom. Or a public restroom.. No matter how much Tae wanted to keep going, he did as his husband told, leisurely withdrawing from Jungkook’s cock as if it was the last thing he wanted to do. The elder stalled at the tip, glistening eyes peeling open to meet the phone’s unwavering perspective from above him, keeping a digital memory of Taehyung’s lightly damped, crimson cheeks. His swollen lips pulled off with a loud pop, eyes dimmed as they switched downwards to his husband’s cock. He gathered saliva, swishing the warm, thick substance around his tongue before allowing it to drip down on Jungkook’s already-drenched head.

“It’s so wet..” Tae’s thumb rubbed deep circles on the small slit, moaning to himself at the sly muscle spasms in Jungkook’s clenched thighs. Once Taehyung was satisfied, he followed through with the second order. Shimmying out of the tight jeans that hugged around his thick ass, Tae let them drop to his ankles along with his boxers.

He really was one impatient boy.. He couldn’t wait to get utterly fucked; Taehyung was always horny for cock.

With each hand gripping onto the side of the sink until his knuckles turned white, the elder stood before Koo, back slightly arched whilst his soft stomach pressed up against the cold surface.

“You like what you’re seeing, daddy?” He spoke, looking at Jungkook through the mirror, feeling more cocky now that he wasn’t kneeling down in front of his husband.

"Mhm." Jungkook hummed in approval, his eyes dilated with lust as he dumbfoundedly stared at Taehyung's full cheeks. He's seen his husband naked more times than he could ever count, but every single time it turned him on just as much-- He was insatiable when it came to Kim Taehyung. He angled the camera down as he approached Tae from behind, using his free hand to grab a handful of the flesh, squeezing hard just to see the skin redden underneath his fingers, watching the fat protrude in between his digits. "I love what I'm seeing... Fuck, I've been thinking about doing this to you all day--work was dreadful."

Jungkook's blunt nails dragged across the tanned skin, leaving faint pink marks in it's rake. He spread his cheek with one hand, just enough for him to see his unused entrance. By now the elder had gotten used to Jungkook's sizable stretch without much preparation, although some would still be needed... It had been a while after all. Kook switched the angle to the reflection, making a show out of the way he sucks his finger until it's nice and slick, however wasting no time in massaging Taehyung's delicate rim, and then finally sliding his middle finger inside of his heated flesh. He films Tae's expressions through the mirror before switching back to filming the way he drags his finger in and out of him. A low groan slips past Kook's lips, his cock throbbing as it rests against Taehyung's ass, still wet and impatiently waiting for it's turn to feel the warmth it craves.

"Stretched so easily tonight-- you're that cockhungry, huh." Kook digs his finger deeper past his knuckle, glancing back at the reflection to watch the blissful expressions on his lover's face.

The elder wasn’t given the chance to come up with a vague answer, only mewling softly as he felt his insides grip around Jungkook’s finger; the squeeze so tight while it clenched and unclenched that it almost forced Kook’s single digit out. Still, Taehyung worked on regaining his breaths, relaxing his muscles for a deeper stretch. Jungkook’s cock must’ve plunged deep into him over a million times, but that never meant Tae would lose his tightness. Every time felt just like the first.

“Oh my g-god.. move your finger— please.” Taehyung deliberately squeezed harder, squirming in delight when he felt the pad of Jungkook’s digit brush against his prostate.

Jungkook's lips tugged into a light smirk, a hot breath huffing through them at the beautiful sound of his husband pleading for more. Everything his man did turned him on, but the begging.. It was next level music to his ears. He kept the camera close enough to be able to see the skin of his finger coated in Tae's juices as he pulled out, only to shove in a second along with the first when he pushed it back inside, effortlessly with the sheer amount of force he used to refill the elders tight heat. Kook curled his fingers ever so slightly, just enough to reach that sweet spot better as he began to curl and uncurl his fingers a few times, relishing in the visible contractions around his digits.

"Your ass is squeezing me so tight... Ahh, the camera loves you.." He groaned, now fucking his fingers in and out of Taehyung, his stable hold on the phone capturing every single drag, clench and wet squelch. "You think you could take me already? It's gonna be a tight fit, but fuck... I want to feel your ass crush my cock."

As if the rest of his body was beginning to give out, Taehyung’s head dipped forward, panting heavily until he could make out the hot puffs of air grazing against his own chest.

“D-daddy— fuuck..” His hips rocked into the younger’s nimble fingers, relishing in the toe-curling way Jungkook teased his prostate. “Y-yeah, ‘m ready. First— a-ahh..” Taehyung hissed, raising his head once more to look at his husband through the mirror, long fringe reaching his pleading eyes. “Can I have a taste? Wanna suck on your fingers.” Taehyung didn’t shift eye-contact; eager to swirl his hot tongue around the same fingers that’d been deep inside of him.

Jungkook's small dimples grew more prominent along with his smile, crooking a coy eyebrow as he slowly popped his fingers out of Tae's stretched hole, leaning forward to press his chest against his lover's back, his wet cock pressed between Taehyung's cheeks. He brought his slick digits to Taehyung's hungry mouth, filming the reflection to get a proper view of both men.

"Here you go baby. Daddy's fingers are coated in your lovely juices... Have a taste, give me a good show."

The hand closest to Jungkook’s let go of its numbed grasp on the sink, instead reaching for his husband’s wrist as Taehyung enveloped the two fingers whole. The elder moaned; one that advanced from deep in his chest and rang throughout the otherwise quiet restroom.

He tasted sweet. Tae fucking bet he’s the sweetest Jungkook’s ever had..

He grinded his ass against Kook’s pelvis, staring at his man through the mirror with an intensified gaze, tongue lapping around and between the delicious digits, lips puckered whilst Taehyung bobbed his head. Thick drool dripped from the corner of his mouth, running down his slobbered chin; but he didn’t mind. Having yet to avert his strong eye-contact, Tae arched his back further to really press against his husband, having fun teasing the hell out of him.

“Mmm~..” Taehyung’s lips were past Jungkook’s tattooed knuckles, sucking roughly on the latter’s fingers as if it was the younger’s cock tucked in between his cheeks.

Jungkook's normally strong facade of stoism struggled to remain intact right at this moment. Too many things went on, from Tae's ever so piercing gaze, the way his tongue lapped at the younger's fingers, and last but definitely not fucking least; his plump ass grinding against Kook's aching cock. It was too much, and it had been way too long. Jungkook didn't care anymore, his expression morphing into that of pure admiration and lust for his husband, gawking like a dumbass at the show he did so kindly ask for.

"Fuck, that's hot... you're so fucking hot, puppy." He growled lowly, almost frustrated at how Taehyung was allowed to be this gorgeous. It should be illegal. Kook watched the elder work his fingers for a short moment before he had enough, withdrawing his hand to harshly smack his husband's ass. "You're too sexy, it drives me fucking crazy.." Another smack, this time keeping his palm on his ass before squeezing it hard between his fingers, spreading the cheek to grant himself better access to grind his tip against the lightly gaped hole. "Shit, look at this... All mine." Kook huffs under heavy breaths, panning camera down Taehyung's prominent cleavage of his spine runs down his back, until the lens settled on where the head of Jungkook's length prodded at Tae's entrance.

"Move backwards baby, fuck yourself on my cock." Jungkook commands, loud enough to clearly capture his voice in the recording-- knowing Taehyung will love looking back and hearing these specific words.

Taehyung’s body jolted forward with every firm, jaw-clenching slap to his ass; his cheek grew tender the more Jungkook’s palm came in contact with the agitated skin, leaving behind a noticeable outline of his hand to linger for days on end. If the video didn’t serve as enough of a reminder, the sting sure as hell will. The elder was on the brink of crying out loud, having to bite down on his lip to prevent himself from screaming Jungkook’s name.

“Feels so good..” Taehyung sank back until the slick head of Jungkook’s cock popped through the gateway to his familiar insides, instantly clenching down on his husband’s skin as a warm greeting. “Fuck, fuck... so big, daddy.” Moving backwards until he nudged Kook’s pelvis, Tae took a minute to adjust to the length, muttering filthy curses under his heated breath. “Is that tight enough for you, hm? You’re so hard inside of me, ahh..” Once he deemed himself ready, Taehyung slowly began fucking himself on Jungkook’s cock, stopping at the tip before he plopped back in with more force, wiggling his hips against Kook before repeating the action. “So hard, I can feel you twitching, Koo..”

"Ah, fuck-- Taehyung..." Jungkook doesn't hold back letting his husband know how good his ass feels. He runs his flat palm down the prominent line on Tae's back where his spine hides, keeping his hips still for a moment to allow the elder to fuck himself on his cock. Kook keeps the camera focused on the way his slick length disappears inside the stretched hole, in awe of the view through the screen. "So tight, you're so fucking tight-- good god... How could I ever get enough of this?" He hisses through his ragged breath. When satisfied with the good work Taehyung put into getting himself used to Kook's size, the younger decides that it's time to reward his lover.

With a rough snap of his hips, Jungkook thrusts forward to meet Tae's ass as it moved back against him, the loud echo of their skin slapping together drawing a guttural moan from the tattooed male.

"You're such a good boy for me." He redirects the camera back towards the reflection to capture Taehyung's jolting body as he began to build a momentum to the way he fucked into him, slow but rhythmical, forceful but precise. "Aren't you? My little good boy?"

A loud, unavoidable gasp left past Taehyung’s loose lips as he hunched over the sink, toes tightly curled in his shoes as one of his many reactions to Jungkook’s quickened thrust. His hands were balled up into fists; forearms resting on each side of the sink whilst he arched his ass further back. “Y-your good boy, yes,” the elder rasped out, voice as thin as ice, and tone as unstable as his legs while Jungkook fucked him. “Hngh.. I love you, fuck me harder.”

If harder was what Taehyung wanted, Jungkook was in no position to deny his wishes. He knows just how whipped the elder was for his muscles, and the endless hours spent building and maintaining them surely didn't go unnoticed by his husband. Rather the opposite, Kook loved the attention-- ever since they were younger, the elder seemed to have a special fascination towards the strength Jungkook possessed. He allows his body to serve as a response to Taehyung's request, the hand on his hip digging harder into his tanned skin, holding him in place as the younger increases the force of his thrusts, at first dragging his entire length in and out to ensure that every single inch of Tae's insides feels the friction of being filled to the brim.

"Oh my god.." Jungkook huffs out, throwing his head back, screwing his eyes shut in rapture as he pounds mindlessly, focusing only on how good it feels right at this moment to just fuck his husband dumb. The phone in his hand became less of a priority at this point, shaky and blurred, however it captured every wet sound of their bodies joining, every breathy grunt, and every single squeak of the sink as Kook's powerful hips jerked Taehyung's body forward roughly.

The gnawing weight of a hundred curse-words on Taehyung’s tongue never subsided. Every invasive jerk of his husband’s quick hips made him want to scream out in rapture; to sob from the overwhelming feeling of Jungkook’s rigid cock entering him over and over again until he was so fucked out that his eyes no longer saw the faded blue-wash of the tiles on the spinning bathroom wall.

Taehyung fuckin’ loved that. He felt as if he was floating on cloud nine; as if he was reliving his brief encounter with drugs when he was a young teen. His husband’s fucking was a heavy drug, there was never a time where Taehyung didn’t enjoy the high it gave him.

“I love it when you put me in my place, hmph!” Tae’s voice was sultry— breathy. Still as deep, but far more hitched. Every menacing smack of Jungkook’s pelvis against his rosy skin stole his breath away, gasps getting caught in the man’s throat before they were reduced to soft mewls. “F-fuck, daddy’s fat cock never disappoints..” The elder straightened his spine, caramel shoulder blades flexed as he depended on his weak arms to keep him in place. Taehyung stared at Kook’s diverse expressions through the mirror; internally praising himself. Moaning, one of his arms blindly reached backwards until his hand groped Jungkook’s ass, feeling the muscles twitch with every thrust. He tipped his head back against Kook’s shoulder, turning his head until Taehyung could smell the odor of built-up sweat on the small dip of Jungkook’s pale skin.

His back remained lightly arched, driven forward from every slam to his wet insides. “Ah, fuck.. yes, daddy!” The elder’s nose was burrowed in the crook of Kook’s neck, brows twitching slightly as a sudden warmth approached his lower stomach.

"Love when you call me daddy." Jungkook breathes out his words in a haste, grunts following with every thrust, smacking his pelvis against Taehyung's plump ass to feel it jiggle against him. He snakes one strong arm around his husband's torso, the one holding the cellphone to angle it back to film the reflection, as the other keeps a tight grip on his hip to ensure his lover doesn't fly forward from the rough effort he puts into every sloppy thrust.

"You're so fucking gorgeous, baby. Look at your pretty, big cock--fuck.." Kook couldn't look away from the view in the mirror, the elder's body was erotic in this position, skin glistening with sweat, cock swollen and red, looking as if it was about to burst at any second with how well Kook fucked into him.

"A-are you close? God, I'm gonna cum... fill your ass up so well, I want you to hold it in until we get home, okay?" Jungkook nudges the elder's cheek with his nose to bring them face to face. "Kiss me, wanna taste your pretty moans as you cum."

Taehyung enthusiastically attached his touch-starved lips to Jungkook’s smaller, sweeter ones. His warm hand extended upwards to eagerly cup his husband’s face, the pad of his thumb swiping across the younger’s scar whilst he deepened their messy kiss, low hums of approval ringing from profound in his rising chest. His squirming body jolted forward with more force, the ability to withstand Jungkook’s irregular thrusts slowly drained out of him, leaving Taehyung frail to every insignificant nudge.

“G-Gonna cum.. gonna cum so much..!” The elder leaned in once more, unable to take the empty feeling in his mouth. He generously sucked on Jungkook’s tongue, their drool running past his chin and slowly cascading down Taehyung’s neck, illuminating the way his Adam’s apple would bob with every forceful swallow. His husband’s spit was so warm. It was like medicine to his drained throat.. There came a time where Tae’s breathing was getting scarce; he pulled away with a soft gasp. His curtained eyes were glazed with fresh tears, vision blurry as he looked down at his swollen dick and the way it hit against the sink’s cooling edge.

So close..

“F-fuuck! Oh.. hngh, daddy, I’m gonna— A-aahh— ah.. hmm!” His high-pitched moans were muffled against Jungkook’s slick lips, mouth unmoving as Taehyung focused on giving his husband every drop of his filthy sounds.

He stayed still for a few seconds, twitching against Jungkook’s larger body, whining whilst his eyes fluttered shut.

“Fuck... I’m hungry.”

#fic: dining out #taekook smut #vkook smut #jungkook x taehyung #bts mxm #bts mxm smut #mxm smut #dom jungkook #sub taehyung #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #boymeetsmxm #bangtanarmynet #sombreboy

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noodelak · 4 years ago

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MY REALLY OLD ART A LONG ASS POST

So this first piece I found in a folder on my computer called “Old art organize later” within a folder called “ REALLY OLD ART” I drew this in 2006 and the jpeg was titled:

“My most awesome dragon evur”

Also noted was my attempt at signing my name in Japanesef saldkfjsdlf because i was 11 and anime was THEE coolest thing to me.

Okay the rest is going under a read more because this is gonna be LONG

here are some gems from 2007

yes this is a kk slider gijinka faksdjfalsdjf

next up we have my attempt to make super paper mario characters into handsome anime men

it was a this point i was a young baby on deviant art longing to do “digital” art because thats what all the really cool artists did, i didnt have a tablet and the photoshop-esque thing i had was a pirated copy of JASC Paintshop 7 (or maybe it was 8), so what did I make with newly unlocked DIGITAL ART POWERS??

and this charming thing which was my intepretation of what the The Thing Behind the Wall in Johnny the Homicidal Maniac looked like:

but these were only the beginning of my long and arduous journey as an artist, 2009 came and I entered highschool 13 years old and with nothing but the power of deviant art and being an outcast with 2 friends on my side so here are some of my favorites from that era of Noo art:

^^^ this is in fact EXACTLY what i looked like at 13

its kind of funny bc looking back you can absolutely tell id been drawing dragons/wolves since i was like able to hold a pencil but didnt start drawing humanoid characters until i was 12 afjlakfjs

ANYWAYS CARRYING ON BC THERES PLENTY MORE!! For example my Invader Zim/Naruto OCs

yes one of those aliens was kisame

every day knowing that I get to claim ownership over this is truly exhilarating the girl with the pigtails was my OC that was definitely not just me. Her name was Delainbow, she was Sasuke’s daughter and she is truly the epitome of everything that was good about my childhood

WHAT A LEGEND

this is genuinely what I wanted to be when i was 13 god I love it

oh fuck i missed this one from 2008

god GOd i love these all so much I WAS SO FREE I JUST DREW WHATEVER AND DIDNT CARE

ok just gonna put a few more without comment but these are all 2009 again

Moving on to 2010-2012 era art

shout out to teenage me for still being not the worst at drawing animals

the freaking EDGE

so there was some point here where i started trying to stop drawing “anime” bc i was tired of ppl making fun of me so I figured if I didnt draw anime ppl would take me more seriously when in reality those ppl just sucked and so did my highschool art teacher

like... YUCK???? what the fuck was i was I even accomplishing here aksdjfaskjfkasldjf

my wolves still were still way cooler then the rest of my art lol

alright carrying onto late highschool early college, its summer of 2012 im on tumblr, im a homestuck, and ive gotten a laptop and tablet as a gift for getting into art school (yeah I drew like aformentioned above and still got into art school) sadly i dont have any scans of the stuff i drew for that portfolio, it was mostly still lifes i drew like a boot and a skull haha

okay so here are the gems i made upon finally getting a computer of my own, photoshop and bamboo wacom tablet,

here she is my first attempt to paint in photoshop....s fjaskdjfaskljfklasd

the rest of these are all from like my first fall/winter semester of college when i actually started getting a real art education and not just shitty no budget rural hometown highschool art class

So that picture of zachary which is honestly NOT thaaaaaat bad was one of the first things I ever posted to break 500 notes, i think a fewwww of my homestuck drawings had come close after like months of being on the site but like that zachary was one of the first times id genuinely been a little succesful with sharing my art online and im still very grateful to everyone who liked and reblogged it ^u^

After that well, i do have a lot more bad art but its not quite as funny as my pre-college stuff from that point on you mostly just see me struggling to improve anatomy and struggling to get through school (which ultimately took me 8 years to get through bc art school is terrible on your mental health and i had to do the last 4 years as a half time student)

but thats kind of a sad note to end on so heres just a few more gems i think you all should see if you’ve taken the time to read this haha

Thank you if you took the time to scroll through all of this i hope you had a laugh and that if you’re ever feeling down about your art to remember that we all start at the bottom and you can only go up from there no matter how long it takes you! Don’t give up and honestly just draw your truth <3

#long post #talk tag #art retrospective #this was really fun to make hahah

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evilmuffinlord · 4 years ago

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Better Together-Chapter 8- Party Rockers

On to chapter eight, in which a party is attended, friendships are forged, and one kidnapping is foiled.

Thank you to everyone who has been so patient with this fic. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get this chapter completed. Hopefully the next one won’t be quite as delayed.

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19985089/chapters/64346437

Or on FF.Net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13359634/8/Better-Together

Cover art by: https://mari-lair.tumblr.com/

Teaser below cut

“So, who’s ready to party?” Mina asked the crowd that had assembled in front of the school gate.

To her utter delight, the entire class had gathered there once school had let out. Sure, some looked bored, others hesitant, and Bakugou had needed to be physically dragged there by Midoriya, but they had all come in the end.

She’d honestly been expecting at least a few of them to skip out, given what they’d gone through that day. If she hadn’t been the one who had organized the whole thing, she would have been sorely tempted to. She’d put her all into the battle with Midoriya and Mineta earlier, and there was a very vocal part of her that just wanted to go home, soak her feet, and watch trashy T.V. for the rest of the evening.

But here they all were, ready to come out and have a good time with her. Her heart swelled with gratitude, and she promised herself that she would turn it up to eleven and be the best host of the best party that any of them had ever attended.

“I am!” Kirishima called, slipping into his role as ultimate wingman with ease.

“I must admit, I am rather excited as well,” Yaoyorozu said demurely. “I have never had the opportunity to visit a public karaoke parlor, especially not with friends.”

“Do you have strict parents?” Kaminari asked. “Or are there just no good karaoke places where you live?”

“Oh no, the movie theater we have at the house comes with a karaoke function. But neither of my parents particularly like karaoke, and asking one of the maids to join me felt rather disingenuous, since they would be obliged to participate no matter what their feelings on the subject.”

Mina took a moment to be absolutely blown away by the fact that Yaoyorozu’s family apparently had a private movie theater. It was obvious that the girl was rich, both from the way she acted and from the way she dressed, but that was another level of wealth entirely. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever met someone that well off before.

What she was sure of, however, was that she was definitely going to set up a girls’ night at Yaoyorozu’s place sometime. Now that would truly be an evening to be remembered.

“Well then, we’ll be sure to make your first time extra special,” Mina said, ignoring Mineta’s snort of laughter over the comment.

“My thanks,” Yaoyorozu replied.

“No problem!” Mina said, flashing her a bright smile. Then she clapped her hands together to draw everyone’s attention. “C’mon everyone! Follow me if you wanna have the best time ever!”

---

“You really know how to pick em Raccoon Eyes,” Katsuki said as they arrived at their destination.

Izuku would never say anything, but he had to admit the karaoke spot Ashido had chosen was a little… underwhelming.

The building was a graffiti-covered concrete square tucked into a back alley, with only a small sign above the door to let them know that they had found “The Karaoke Cave.” The few visible windows were covered with thick paper to prevent any light from leaking in, and the door itself had seen better days.

Izuku was actually rather surprised to see so much graffiti, given the fact that they were still relatively close to UA. Most delinquents wouldn’t be willing to openly act out so close to the campus. He silently hoped that they wouldn’t run into the delinquents responsible. He had no desire to meet people that bold and rebellious.

“How about you try finding a place that will take a party of 20 students on short notice, and that we can still afford?” Ashido said, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at Katsuki.

He grumbled a little, but didn’t say anything further. Ashido apparently took this as a victory, since she let a grin spread across her face and turned to face the group.

“Look, I know it doesn’t look like much, but that just means we have to make it fun for each other. So put on a smile, and get ready to sing your hearts out, because I’m making sure every one of you gets up on stage at least once!”

Izuku swallowed hard. He had been counting on blending into the background so he wouldn’t have to sing anything. It might still be possible for him to do that, but considering that Ashido was already looking at him and grinning evilly, he highly doubted it.

“You guys better be prepared to be awed!” Kaminari said, adopting a ridiculous pose that involved him crossing his arms in front of himself and extending his fingers into peace signs. “I’m an expert rapper!”

Jirou suddenly broke into a coughing fit that sounded suspiciously like suppressed laughter, leaning on Yaoyorozu for support. The reaction took a lot of the wind out of Kaminari’s sails, but did little to deter Ashido.

“That’s the spirit! C’mon guys!”

She led them into the lobby where a bored woman was in the middle of painting her nails at the front desk.

“We have a reservation under—” Ashdio said, only to be cut off.

“Through the door over there, the third room on the right. You have it for three hours,” the receptionist said, not looking up from her nails.

Ashido deflated a little at the receptionist’s attitude. “Awww, you’re not even gonna let me say it?”

The receptionist shook her head, and finally turned her gaze towards them. “Nope. We get people putting down joke names every day, and I’m tired of it. If I hear one more person registering as the Donner party, I’m going to scratch their eyes out.” To emphasize her point, she flexed her hand and her meticulously painted nails suddenly lengthened and became razor sharp claws.

“Okaaaay,” Ashido replied, backing away slowly, “we’re just gonna go sing now.”

“Have fun or whatever. Don’t make a mess,” the receptionist replied, returning to her cuticles.

“Did you really put us down as the Donner party?” Uraraka asked, once they were a safe distance away from the terrifying worker.

“Nuh uh,” Ashido said, shaking her head, “I put us down as ‘Mina and the Chipmunks.’ I have no idea why she started talking about reindeer.”

“I believe she was referring to a different Donner,” Yaoyorozu said with a chuckle.

“Well that’s just confusing,” Ashido replied, pouting slightly.

Before their conversation could continue any further, they reached the room that they had rented.

To Izuku’s surprise, it was much more inviting than the exterior of the building would have implied. The room was large enough to house their entire class with only minimal squishing, and plenty of couches and chairs for everyone to have a seat when they weren’t singing. These were arranged around a large table that was covered in various menus and song lists. A pair of tablets were resting on it as well, with charging cords trailing off behind one of the couches and presenting a tripping hazard if they weren’t careful. Finally, a large T.V. took up most of the right wall, displaying the words ‘Karaoke Cave’ bouncing around on the screen while it waited for someone to use it.

“Whoa, this place is way nicer than I thought it would be,” Kirishima said as he stepped into the room.

“Yeah, I was kind of expecting a dump from the outside. Nice pick, Mina!” Hagakure said, dropping onto one of the couches.

Ashido, for her part, looked relieved that everyone had come around on the venue. A massive grin was plastered across her face, and she was bouncing slightly as she looked around the room.

Izuku was glad to see her so happy. A part of him had been worried that she would take her loss during their mock battle earlier that afternoon hard, and maybe even hold it against him. Instead, she seemed to be just as upbeat as ever.

“Yo, what’s with this song selection?” Kaminari called, brandishing one of the tablets over his head, “I haven’t heard of any of these.”

Jirou picked up the second tablet, then snorted when she saw what was on it.

“I bet you only listen to the top forty then. This stuff is old school. Like, I think my parents have a few of these on vinyl.”

“Perhaps they only feature songs that are in the public domain?” Yaoyorozu ventured.

“Maybe. Hope you guys like classics,” Jirou replied.

“Eh, I’ll make do. Now, let’s get this party started!” Kaminari said, picking up the tablet once more.

“Hold on a moment!” Iida said, loudly enough to grab everyone’s attention. It took a few moments for everyone to quiet down, which Iida took as a chance to move to the front of the room where they could all see him easily.

“Given that Ashido was the one who organized this event, I think it is only proper that she is allowed to sing the first song. Assuming she wants to, of course.”

“I agree,” Yaoyorozu said, standing up as well, “If there is anyone who deserves to go first, it is the hostess.”

A chorus of agreement followed the statements, as well as some applause for the one who had brought them all there.

“Awww, thanks guys!” Ashido said, flushing a little bit at the applause.

“Thank us by singing an awesome song!” Kirishima called.

“Now that I can do!”

Read the rest on AO3 or FF.net! Links available on my tumblr page if they get broken here again.

#mha #izuku midoriya #mina ashido #izumina #fanfiction #writing #my writing #dekumina #minadeku #bnha #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #better together #quirk!izuku

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subasekabang · 4 years ago

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One Blank Concrete Wall, Primed

Title: One Blank Concrete Wall, Primed Rating: T/PG-13 for swearing and bloodless violence Word Count: 13,700 Pairings/Characters: No ships/Genfic. Neku, Joshua, Hanekoma as main characters. Appearances by most everyone else from TWEWY including Beat, Rhyme, Shiki, the reapers Warnings: brief mentions of past trauma/death (some of the Reapers discuss why they died), angelic/eldritch body horror (no blood or gore), imprisonment Summary: Neku’s in college now, and other than passing through Shibuya’s subway station to get to other parts of the city, he doesn’t really stop by much anymore. But when he gets a serious case of artist’s block before a gallery show, he decided to go back to his old stomping grounds to get inspired. Partner: @soundofez and @songsummoner Author’s Note: This was a fun, super weird piece. I also did some art for it on top of my partner’s work; all the art from me and my partners will appear in the correct parts of the fic on my AO3 link, which will go up Oct. 2. I’ll link in reply to this post with it when that’s up so you can see some really weird stuff (my own art is included below, though!!). Special thanks to Fez for designing college-age Neku’s clothes.

Also, Neku fights (and apologizes to) a building.

Enjoy!

XXX

Neku sighed. Squinting, he rolled up the blinds on his studio apartment a little, taking in the view. One window, the Skytree. The other, he could glimpse the top part of Sensouji’s pagoda. Asakusa was no Shibuya, but it had lots of car free pathways, quirky art stalls, and lots of tourists to draw. And it was a heck of a lot cheaper than living in Ueno.

He could walk to campus in about half an hour on a good day or take the subway just one stop to Tokyo University of the Arts on a bad one. It was convenient and, while a touristy area, surprisingly quiet.

Too quiet today, though. Neku fired up his tablet, pinging his friends. They always called everyone in a big group chat, though there was no obligation to answer.

“Sup, Phones?” Beat grinned into the camera, a giggle heard in the background.

“Beat, are you ever going to actually use his name?”

“I am though!” Best objected. “Neku’s tag is a pair of headphones. It’s practically his name at this point.”

“You’re not going to win on a technicality,” Rhyme chirped, turning the camera so she was in frame. “We’re between takes, anyway. What’s up, Neku?”

“Shit, did I interrupt a shoot?” Neku hovered over the hang-up button.

“I just said we were on break!” Rhyme reiterated, flailing her hands in front of her. “But Beat is shooting with your deck!”

His friend, who had only grown more muscular with the past five years, hefted up his skateboard, showing off the art of a flying squirrel on the undercarriage. “It’s still the sickest one I’ve got. You’d better have another one in the wings when it gets decommissaried, yo!”

“Decommissioned.”

“Whatever.”

“It’s not whatever, Beat,” another voice popped in, the newcomer’s eyebrow quirked in a hint of static as the visual flickered on.

“Sup, Shiki!” Beat said, waving wildly.

“Meet me for drinks when you’re done shooting? I can hop on the subway. It’s only a stop.”

“How’d you know where we are?”

“Beat, you always skate in Ikebukuro,” Shiki said matter-of-factly. “And I’m at school, so I’m only a stop away from you.”

“Oh. Right. Sometimes I wish we kept our mind reading powers,” Beat said with a pout.

“Noooooo thank you,” Shiki said with a grin. “Anyway, what’s all this about? I’ve got ten minutes ‘til my Fashion Sales class.”

Neku scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepishly at the camera. “I… er. Kinda needed some advice. I’ve got a gallery class where my one assignment is supposed to take the whole semester and I’m a bit stuck. I need to hand my draft proposition in by the end of next week.”

“What’s the topic?” Rhyme asked.

“That’s the thing. The art—even the medium—is up to me. Every fine art track has to take this thing. So, it doesn’t need to be painting, but I have to secure a space and create a work to match it. Like, get permission to paint a building, or something like that. Private or public property, just no vandalism. Street paste or yarn bombing is OK in public spaces. Basically, as long as it’s non-destructive; otherwise we need permission from the owner.”

“So, you need to scout out a place and make something that compliments it?” Rhyme asked.

“Yeah. And we can work together if we want. I don’t know my classmates well enough to know if our styles clash though.”

“Sounds tough.”

“That’s why it’s my whole assignment.”

Beat frowned. “I’ve got a good sponsorship going with Wild Boar. Could see if you could tag one of their shops.”

“Maybe,” Neku said. “But I want to step out of my comfort zone a little if I can. It’s a good backup.”

Shiki bit her lip. “Maybe you just need a little inspiration.”

“Little is an understatement.”

“What about that tag mural in Shibuya? Would that be fair game?”

The chat went silent. That wall in question was public property. It was absolutely not game—not for this assignment at least.

“Why?” Neku almost whispered, hoarse. “Why’d you even bring it up?”

“Because it’s been five years, Neku, and you haven’t gone back. CAT did what you’ve been assigned; he was a street artist who also did all these kinds of hired art too.”

“Hanekoma’s gone,” Neku reminded her. “I stopped trying. The shop was destroyed. If he ever came back, he’s not in Shibuya.”

“Then… ignore my bad idea,” Shiki said, not meeting eyes with the camera. “Sorry I brought it up.”

“No! No,” Neku reassured her, forcefully, then quiet, as if he were a deflating balloon. “Sorry if I snapped.”

“You didn’t snap,” Rhyme offered, before changing the subject. “I’ll think on it though; there’s gotta be some struggling coffee shop that could use some art, or something. Anyway… we need to get back to work, now.”

“And I have class. Neku, let’s chat tonight, after dinner? I can swing by your place. We can go get conveyor belt sushi over by Nakamise.”

“That… sounds pretty good, actually. Yeah. Let’s.”

“Later, alligator!” Rhyme said, chipper.

“Yeah! Later!” Shiki added.

“Let’s bounce!” Beat snuck in as Rhyme ended the call.

Neku was left alone to his thoughts.

Shibuya.

He and his friends romped through the city almost every weekend after they were all brought back—at least at first. Eventually exams took over for Shiki and Neku, both hell-bent on getting in Bunka Fashion College and Tokyo Arts respectively. Beat slowly got more and more skate sponsorships with Rhyme as his videographer, making her new dream to shoot the world’s best skater: her brother.

Neku closed his eyes, imagining the gleaming, ad-drenched skyscrapers, a far cry from the view from his apartment window.

Maybe.

Maybe it was time to finally go back; maybe Shiki wasn’t wrong. It was his old stomping grounds, his old home. And it was only a few hundred yens’ ride away.

Neku pinched his forearm once to ground himself, grabbed his wallet and a scarf (courtesy of Shiki’s weaving class, in a sturdy textured purple crepe) and headed out the door.

Xxx

Neku’s palm touched plaster and concrete. Slowly, he slid his hand along the wall, breathing out an exhale. Even in his high school years, when his friends would regularly bum around Shibuya after school and on weekends, he avoided the mural. It wasn’t that he stopped liking it; just… He felt he didn’t need it anymore. He had plenty of CAT’s art to keep him company, from the pins in his pocket to the billboards throughout the city.

Maybe he was young and naïve back then, but looking at the faded piece, partially obscured by other, less impressive tags… well, it didn’t seem very impressive anymore.

“‘Course it isn’t, you brain-dead binomial,” a familiar voice sneered from behind him. Neku whipped around to see Sho Minamimoto, cat whiskers and all, grinning with fanged teeth.

Sho put up his hands as a peace offering, sensing Neku’s hackles rising. “I’m not attacking the living; don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’d really rather not get divided by zero. Again.”

Neku relaxed his shoulders a little but said nothing.

“You’re a leaky faucet, you single-digit integer,” Sho explained, as he pointed to a vending machine, sending a pair of CC Lemon bottles flying out of it and at the two of them. He leaned against the mural, back to it, sliding down to sit and sighing with his drink. “I miss CAT, too, you know. Been the square-root of 25 years since anyone’s seen a new piece of his. Some of the reapers actually thought it might’ve been you.”

Neku laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Me?” he asked, plopping down next to his former enemy, accepting the citrus-flavored peace offering. “I was fifteen. And CAT had been active way before I was born.”

“Thought it was a title, you dumb fractal. Like Pope or Emperor.”

“Expert street artists are called Kings and Queens, you know.”

“And dead ones are Angels,” Sho added with a sage nod. “Trying to one-up a Reaper on art is like trying to find the cube root of i.”

Neku stared down at his soft drink, thinking of Hanekoma. The title suited him in more ways than one, thanks to a little packet he’d found in Mr. H’s shop back when he and Beat snuck in to see if there was anything they could save. Since Hanekoma was CAT, there had been a pretty strong likelihood some of his art was still in the ruined café, but sadly there wasn’t any evidence in there at all. Neku saw faded marks where canvases and an easel had once been stacked in a curious empty back room; someone had beaten them to clearing it out.

Sho pulled Neku out of his thoughts eventually, after one intrepid skater ate pavement attempting to grind the Cyco Records railing.

“What’s eating you, pain-in-my-vector? Well, former.”

“You don’t hold a grudge?” Neku asked curiously.

“It’s a long afterlife. Grudges are useless.”

The two sat in silence for a while, watching the skaters try their new decks outside the Wild Boar at the midpoint of the T section.

“You gonna ask me why I’m here?”

“I know why you’re here,” Sho replied testily, tapping his temple. “Was waiting to see if you’d give me the proof out of your mouth.”

“Right. Mind reading.”

“I can’t see every piece of the equation; that’s not how it works and you know it. But I can solve for x and fill in the blanks.”

Neku sighed. “What can you see?”

“That you’re stuck on a hard problem and you’ve been staring at your homework too long.”

“And by problem you mean—”

“I can’t tell—just some big project is eating you up. At least it’s not Higashizawa. That hectopascal can eat a man whole. I’ve seen it.” Minamimoto slung back his drink. “So, what’s eating you?”

“I mean, other than you being alive again?” Neku asked, eyebrow raised.

“Still dead as I was last you saw me.”

“Last I saw you, you were crushed under a vending machine.”

“Eh, I’ve had worse days.” Minamimoto shrugged. “That infinite asshole of a Composer fixed me back up and sent me right back to work. Now stop stalling, you obtuse angle. Out with it.”

“Artist’s block,” Neku admitted sheepishly. “I’ve got a big project coming up and I just can’t think of the right thing to do.”

Sho laughed, his head flung back and whole body shaking with the action. “Artist’s block, you dithering digit. You don’t think we Reapers never deal with that shit? At least for you, it’s not fatal.”

“F-fatal?” Neku asked, almost dropping his bottle.

“We run on Imagination,” Sho said, chucking his emptied-out drink with force, sending it flying halfway down the alley into a recycling bin attached to a vending machine. “No Imagination, no power. No power long enough and poof, divide by zero. Crunch. Drop a vending machine on me? I’ll walk it off. Go too long without making something…”

Sho went uncharacteristically quiet, running his fingers through a hole in his jeans.

“So, what do you do when you’re stuck?” Neku finally asked.

“I raid the trash. Something always finds its way to me.” Sho pulled a loose thread and threw it to the wind. “I don’t just mean the garbage; I mean the rest of us. Talkin’ it out’s helped. I used to think I didn’t need anybody else. But then I got subtracted out so many times by you ‘n Prisspants, well. Don’t want to admit it but dividing up the work’s helped solve the harder equations.”

Neku smiled, offering a hand. “I can leave you my number if you ever want to talk shop.”

Sho blinked twice, confused. “You’d… help me? I was an irrational digit.”

“So? I was an asshole teenager. I pass through often enough. It’s not much trouble, especially if you’re feeding me,” Neku admitted, shaking his now empty bottle. “You try keeping on weight on a college art student’s budget.”

“Yeah, all right,” Sho said, standing up, swiping Neku’s empty bottle to shove in one of his myriad pockets. “A balanced equation—I dig it. I’m using this in my next piece,” he added, tapping the bottle with a hollow thud. “Thanks… Neku.”

Before Neku had a chance to even realize it was the first time Sho called him by name, the Reaper had vanished back to the Underground, out of Neku’s reach.

Xxx

Neku stood at the mural a few minutes longer, rolling the plastic bottle cap in his fingers. If Sho was alive, well, less dead, then Joshua was still haunting Shibuya from somewhere—Hanekoma, too.

So why was the mural so worn out? Had Mr. H run out of new inspiration himself? Neku sighed, no more ready to tackle the assignment as he hoofed it back to the station, tossing the bottle-cap into the recycling as he passed.

The CC Lemon Sho had expertly pitched was mysteriously absent from the top of the pile.

“If Sho went dumpster diving to make recycled friendship bracelets, I think I’ll actually bust a rib laughing,” Neku muttered to himself.

“Honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Neku whipped his head around to see a Reaper in a basic hoodie. A faceless grunt, one of at least tens, if not hundreds, patrolling the city. No visible wings, so at least Neku could remind himself he hadn’t gone sliding into the UG. Just another Reaper coming up to the RG for air. Or to pester him.

Or both.

“Do I know you?” Neku asked, eyeing the teenage-looking apparition in oversized clothing.

The boy huffed. “The Reaper Review remembers you.”

Neku laughed and relaxed a little. “At least you’re not the Reaper who made me show up in all Mus Rattus to break their barrier. Or the other one who made me get them a chili dog.”

“When you’re a minor officer, you’re allowed to send Players on wild goose chases,” the Reaper said with a shrug. “I’m just happy I was allowed to block mine with trivia. I hate fighting.”

“You and me both,” Neku grumbled.

The reaper tipped his hood back slightly, enough to show Neku his ethereal looking eyes. “I overheard you had artist’s block. Er, sorry. Didn’t mean to pry. It’s the worst.”

“Great. Is my mind safe from any of you?” Neku groaned, though it wasn’t in anger. He couldn’t complain. Hearing the livings’ thoughts just happened when you were dead.

“Actually, I was guarding the mural and overheard your chat with the Lieutenant.”

“Oof. Minamimoto got a demotion?”

“He seems happier in the field, anyway,” the Reaper replied with a shrug. “More time for his sculptures and harassing players.”

Neku looked at the Reaper curiously. “Sho mentioned you all do art. Have to keep your Imagination up.”

“That’s… not entirely true. I mean yeah, gotta keep the creative juices going or we stop existing. But it doesn’t have to be through art. Cooking, dance, whatever goes. When I’m stuck, I usually learn from another Reaper. Gives me some perspective.”

Neku’s smile widened. “You’re right, you know. I need to broaden my horizons. What do you do?”

“Me? Uh… I design puzzles. The player traps and stuff.”

“Ugh,” Neku groaned.

“You paint, right? I remember seeing some of your tags under the Miyashita Park underpass a few years ago. You’re pretty good. Maybe… try heading over near Shibu-Q? The Reapers that dance usually practice that way—sidewalk is wide enough. Loosen up with some life drawing or something.”

Neku smiled. “I have to do an installation project, but you know what? That’s not a terrible idea. Thanks.” He looked to the corner where Shibu-Q stood and then back at his nameless friend, but the Reaper was already gone.

Xxx

Neku didn’t know what he was expecting to find outside Shibu-Q, but a pair of Harrier Reapers doing acrobatic dancing was not it. Neku smirked as he watched the reaper woman with electric purple lipstick—Uzuki, if he remembered correctly—pirouetting before using her friend as a vaulting block to spin up and over his back.

The two continued their routine, the man—Kariya, Neku remembered after a few embarrassed moments of mental fumbling—seeming lazy and unmoving but carefully and precisely supporting his partner’s flashy moves. The two continued for another ten minutes or so, then each held out a hat for change.

Neku patted himself down for his wallet before dumping three 500-yen coins in Uzuki’s hat as it passed around. She glared at him a moment, then pushed the coins back in his face.

“Not taking money from you,” she snipped. “I already owe you enough. Shoo.”

Kariya looked over his shoulder at Neku, momentarily confused. After all, the two of them hadn’t aged a day while Neku was now a lanky, slightly scruffy young adult. Realization crossed the Reaper’s features slowly, eventually tugging his mouth into a half grin. Kariya offered Neku a backwards half-salute and went back to waving his hat around for change.

Eventually the crowd dispersed. Kariya loped over to Neku and Uzuki, clapping Neku on the shoulder. “Hey, kiddo. You’re as tall as I am now. Good on you. How’s life treating you?”

Neku couldn’t help but laugh at the double meaning behind the words. “Busy. College.”

“You know, I wondered when I would stop seeing you run around the RG so much over here.”

“Never mind me,” Neku said, sloughing off Kariya’s friendly gesture and looking at the two of them. “How are you holding up?”

“How do you think?” Uzuki spat. “There weren’t many powerful Reapers left after that mess—at least for a while. So, some ass went and got themselves promoted to Conductor.”

Kariya looked down at his feet, blush going all the way across his face. “It’s not like I asked for it; I wasn’t given a choice. At least I negotiated that I could do things my way. Uzuki’s my GM.”

Neku frowned. “So… then you know the Composer.”

Kariya’s eyes went uncharacteristically fierce. “That’s on a need to know basis and—”

“Read my mind then,” Neku countered. “There’s something I do need to know.”

Neku closed his eyes and thought of Joshua. What he really wanted was to talk to Mr. Hanekoma, but the only way he was going to be able to do that would be going to Joshua first.

Kariya whistled low. “Okay. Fine. Kid, come here a sec.”

“Kariya, come on. Why are you even telling this kid anything? He’s alive. And—”

“He knows about Josh, Uzuki, I’m not giving him anything new. Just… maybe pointing him in the right direction.”

Uzuki pushed a loose strand of burgundy hair from her eyes. “Fiiiiine, whatever. You’re the boss.”

“You’ve seen him?” Neku asked quietly.

“’Course I have. He’s my boss,” Kariya said with a sigh. “Though he only comes to speak if he feels like it. I’ve caught him sulking over past the Miyashita Park underpass though. No clue why. Out there is just a bunch of sporting goods stores and Josh and physical activity mix like oil and vinegar. Hope that helps. What do you need him for, anyway? You’re alive.”

“It’s not him I’m even looking for,” Neku admitted. “I want him to tell me what happened to an old friend.”

Kariya relaxed a bit. “If said old friend has anything to do with the UG, might as well ask me.”

“I’m looking for CAT.”

Kariya frowned, scratching the back of his head in contemplation. “CAT was a Reaper? He— or she, I guess— stopped doing anything new after I became Conductor. Yeah. You’d have to speak to Josh. That’s before my time and below my pay grade.”

“Thanks anyway, Kariya,” Neku said, genuinely appreciative. “It’s better than nothing.”

“Anytime. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Neku closed his eyes a moment, sighing quietly. “Hope so too,” he muttered, opening them to an empty sidewalk.

Xxx

Neku headed eastbound towards Cat Street, passing Stride on the left. Gone were the Tin Pin banners, long since replaced with whatever new plastic toy battling fad that had taken hold of the local kids.

“You know, I heard a commotion from some of the older guard that a carrot was running around Udagawa.”

Neku had whiplash. Poised behind him with a cigarette loosely held in between his middle and ring finger was a face Neku couldn’t believe he was seeing.

“Seven?” Neku asked incredulously. He reached out his hand for the bleach-blonde, swaggering musician’s to find it cold as ice. Neku frowned. “Smoking kills, you know.”

777 played with the cigarette between his fingers. “How d’you think I died?” He gave a cocky grin. “Actually, I fell off a roof rigging an abandoned warehouse party. This is why you do safety checks. Tenho still gives me grief about it.”

Neku smiled weakly. “That bites.”

“The dust? Oof. Yeah. But hey, all three of us went down at once. The party scattered and when we showed up to play a new set a few weeks later nobody realized we weren’t exactly alive. They probably thought we broke a bone or two at worst and hid to lick our wounds—not cracked our skulls on the sidewalk.” Neku winced. “Er, sorry, Orange. Didn’t mean to dredge up anything bad on your end. Just odd, seeing you back.”

“Looking for someone,” Neku admitted. “The owner of the café that used to be on Cat Street.”

“Hanekoma? Stopped in there for coffee sometimes. Bit odd. His shop didn’t have the Player decal, yet he definitely served stiffs. Reapers as customers is one thing—we can go to the RG—but… hell. What do I know?”

Neku flocked his eyes up and down the street. Not that it mattered; Reapers could be in the UG right next to him and he wouldn’t know. “Yeah, he could see the dead.”

“ESPer or something?” Seven asked, blowing out a smoke ring that looked like a bat. Now he was just showing off.

“Something like that.”

“Well, fat lot that did him. Shop’s been MIA ever since I got recommissioned—maybe earlier. All I remember is, I had a double shot espresso there the night before that gig you helped me with, got blown up like two weeks later, and when I’m back to my good old dead self, the shop looks like it got exploded too. What the hell went on in this city that week?”

“War,” Neku said grimly.

“And you won, didn’t you?” Seven elbowed him in the shoulder. “You’d be one of my types now if you hadn’t.”

“Yeah, I did,” Neku said, throat dry. “Thanks for the chat.”

“You come to our next gig, you hear? You’ve gotta be old enough to drink now. VIP for you ‘n the cute chick you were with. Or, uh, anyone else. Don’t know if asking her would be awkward. She made it out, didn’t she? Please say yes.”

Neku smiled. “She did, and we’re still friends. I’ll ask. She won’t look like how you’re expecting though.”

“Neither do you, not-so-short stack. Now get outta here. I’m gonna finish my drag and get back to setup before Beej screams me out. Later.” Seven snapped his fingers and the cigarette exploded in a puff of blue fiery smoke. “Open invite, Orange, just tell the bouncer ‘golden bat’ at the door.”

Xxx

Neku inhaled. He knew past here was Cadoi, then Miyashita.

Then Cat Street.

Neku passed a small spot under the park underpass where Beat and Rhyme’s flowers had once been placed, leaving behind a tiny finger skateboard. Beat would probably punch him; Rhyme would find it hilarious. He did it to honor his once dead friend. Some kid would probably see it, and abscond with it, and play with it till it broke. Beat’s skateboard, in the hands of some kid passing by—it was fitting.

Neku let his memory walk him the rest of the way to WildKat. It stood as it had since the incident: a broken front window, a door barely hanging on its hinges. How it remained like this almost half a decade without developer intervention was shocking, honestly. Or maybe not, if divine intervention was involved.

Neku inhaled and took a step forward.

Again.

He carefully swung the door, afraid the whole thing would come off the frame in his hands. It squeaked something awful but hung by a thread.

The inside was worse. Neku should have brought one of his paint masks with him. The place was a fire trap of chipped plaster, dust, and mold. An old safe in the back corner was open on its hinges. The only things that looked clean were the sink, two sealed jars of whole coffee beans, and a single drip carafe, the rest of the row shattered beyond recognition.

Neku’s sketchbook and a mechanical pencil set still sat atop the dust-crusted counter. He’d left them there when he and Beat had returned— the only time Neku stepped foot in the shop when he was alive—to check on the shop.

To check on its owner.

Leaving the sketchbook behind seemed fitting. It was half full of random crap, and half empty, nothing but open promises in the end.

Maybe Neku didn’t need Hanekoma, or CAT, or the old shop. Carefully, he made his way around a splintered bar stool, sidestepped a broken glass pitcher, and hauled himself up on the only stool left in sittable condition.

Reverently, he opened the book. He almost laughed at his fifteen-year-old self’s sketches. The first three pages were ideas for tags around the city. He actually cringed at one.

Then a page of Shiki—a quick sketch, half likely from stolen glances and half from memory, because it was her as herself on the left, and as Eri on the right.

Ideas for Beat’s skateboards.

Architecture sketches

An entire six pages of circles and cubes, shaded with hatching or a blending stump.

Neku turned to the next page.

In handwriting that wasn’t his, scrawled in large block print…

TURN AROUND, DEAR.

Xxx

Neku screamed. It wasn’t one of fear, but frustration. “You slimy, little—” he shrieked, as he spun around in the stool expecting to see a smarmy, fifteen-year-old-looking blonde, if the agelessness of the other UG residents was anything to go by.

Instead, a softly frowning man in his mid-thirties stood behind him.

With blonde fly-away hair.

And strange purple eyes.

And a blue-purple button down with white accents and charcoal slacks.

Neku bit his lower lip, holding back a fury he hadn’t had in years.

“You.”

“I come in peace,” Joshua offered, hands up defensively, glowing slightly. “I wrote that years ago. Now I kind of regret it.” Neku relaxed a little. Joshua would be dramatic enough to do that and scare him when he entered the shop, wouldn’t he?

“Only kind of, though,” Joshua added, pulling a broken chair from the rubble, fixing it with a shake and sitting down beside Neku. “It’s still Imprinted. I’m not in the RG. The note left a bit of me in it. You see it, you see me, too.”

“You been tailing me all day, too?”

“I felt you in the city, but no. Only when I got a text about it.”

Kariya. Of course.

“Your conductor rat me out?”

“He did say you were looking for me. So, might have imprinted on you a bit to push you here.”

“You could have come and—”

“—said hello? No, actually, I can’t. I’m on probation. Can’t enter the RG for a decade. Not the biggest deal for me, mind, but… humans don’t live near as long as things like I do. I needed you to come to me. Glad that thing still works.” He tapped the notebook, his hand clipping through a page or two like he wasn’t all there.

Neku exhaled. “I trust you, you know. Still don’t forgive you, but I do trust you.”

“I know. I appreciate you said it aloud, but I know.”

“You look better when your clothes actually fit.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve gotten better at keeping up with me,” Joshua said with a bit of a grin.

“You’ve slowed down in your age, you old fart.”

“Old? Fart?” Joshua pouted, and where there had been a well-put-together adult sat a petulant teenager in the same attire, now oversized to the point of baggy. He looked as the Reapers did—unaged.

“At least now you fit in with the rest of your underlings,” Neku huffed.

Joshua frowned. “I wish I did, honestly.” Quietly, he stared off, past Neku to the empty kitchen.

“Miss him too?”

“More than you,” Joshua shot back.

“Didn’t have many friends?”

“Comes with the job.”

Neku rolled a pencil between his fingers. He’d caught the proverbial tail and didn’t know what to do with it. Joshua was here and clearly knew just as much as Neku did about his former idol’s whereabouts. They sat in silence as Joshua’s likely million-yen watch ticked away.

“Well?”

“Well what?” Neku replied flatly.

“You’re no fun, Neku,” Joshua needled. “Fine. Look, Sanae liked you, more than just the fact that you were my Proxy. Hell, I’m surprised he helped you at all, knowing what you represented in my Game. You were the bad guy.”

Joshua slunk in the only-until-recently broken bar seat, kicking at a shattered tile with an awfully expensive sneaker. When he couldn’t quite reach, his form shifted back to that of an adult, flinging the chipped tile aside like a petulant child. “Neku, I need you.”

“Like you needed me to destroy Shibuya.”

Joshua exhaled, wisps of golden hair fluttering as he stared at anything but Neku. “I’ve been trying to find Hanekoma for years. Every moment I’m not here keeping the city together, I’m traveling to find him. You wouldn’t understand, but I need you to get a lock on him.”

“You’re dimension hopping.”

Joshua sat straight up, his too-long legs hitting the café bar as he did so. “Fuck,” he hissed, rubbing at his knee. “Too tall for my own good. But how? How could you even know that?”

Neku pointed to the safe at the back corner of the café, still just as ajar as he left it when he found the key pin with Beat back in the game. “Mr. H. left me a book of notes: on the game, on angels, all of it.” Neku scrolled through his phone. “I used to keep it on me, thinking it would help me somehow, someday. Eventually, I just scanned it all.”

“Gimme,” Joshua demanded, and the phone was in his hands. Neku watched in awe at the Composer’s speed reading. “I know he kept notes for the Angels, but this wasn’t for them—it was for you. Where’s the real deal?”

“My apartment.”

“Address. Specific location. I’m talking ‘fourth floor, third bedroom, under the red futon next to my stack of- ‘”

Neku cut him off quickly, rattling off his exact address and where he hid the book. Joshua held out a free hand, and in a moment, it materialized with the softest of thunks, pages fluttering in Joshua’s fingertips. “Be glad I’m on good terms with the Composer of Taito Ward,” Joshua admonished, pointing with the small hand-bound journal. “Otherwise I would have sent you home to go get it yourself.”

“What, are you going to track down Hanekoma with this?”

“No, of course not,” Joshua snorted, standing upright, shaking himself once to completely dissipate any plaster shavings or broken chips from his clothing.

“You are.”

Xxx

Neku watched in awe as Joshua’s back bloomed with light, a pair of massive swan-like silver-white wings settling on his back, iridescent with hints of lavender as he shook them loose. Before Neku could think, Hanekoma’s journal was thrust into his hands, and Joshua had him in a position he’d later call The Little Spoon of Death. With a jerk backwards, the two fell through and landed precisely where they’d been before, except the shop was in clean, working order, jazz playing on the radio, and a familiar voice humming tunelessly along with the guitar.

“Heya, Josh. Back so soon?”

Neku blinked and almost cried when he saw the man behind the counter. “H-Hanekoma?!? Mr. H?”

“One of,” Hanekoma said with a shrug. “Not the one you’re looking for though.”

Neku tried to surge forward to give the man (angel?) a hug but was held firmly in place by Joshua’s murderous grip around his waist. “Let go,” Neku whined through gritted teeth.

“Not a good idea, Boss,” Hanekoma chided. “You don’t want to get stuck in the wrong place.”

Neku let himself slacken. “I can get stuck?”

“Sure as the rain ruining my day,” Hanekoma agreed. “When you’re in the right place, you’ll know.”

“Can you help?”

“Can I? Sure. Will I? No. He’s a hellion. You’re never going to find him anyway.”

“Isn’t he another you?”

“You wouldn’t say the same thing if you met you from this world,” Joshua said, exasperated. “I wonder why the book sent us here.”

“This is where you hid after Minamimoto tried to erase you, isn’t it?” Neku asked. He flipped through the journal. “He hid somewhere high to wait for you. Because he thought this Hanekoma would turn him into the Angel Police or something.”

“I did,” Hanekoma said proudly. “Can’t have me ruining my good name.”

“Fuck off,” Neku spat at the barista. “You’re not Hanekoma.”

“I’m the part of Hanekoma that actually follows our rules.”

Joshua squeezed Neku tighter. “Hold on and keep thinking of that.”

“What—whyyyyyyyyyy?!” Neku screamed as sound escaped him. The whole universe lurched underneath as Joshua resumed pinging around between alternate realities, barely stopping to breathe.

“Focus!” Joshua ordered him through the din of dizzying WildKat cafes, Shibuya skylines, and for a brief moment, possibly the cold depths of space.

“THERE IS NOTHING TO FOCUS ON YOU DAFT ZOMBIE!” Neku shouted back, feeling his insides out and outsides in before the two bounced off a massive plate of glass and went rolling out to nowhere. Joshua pulled his wings around them, breaking the fall as they bounced a few times to the sounds of shattering glass.

They stilled. Neku could hear his own breathing and feel his heart jumping in his chest. Disquietingly, Joshua had neither breath nor a heartbeat, his torso flat against Neku’s back without any noticeable sign of life. Neku quietly filed that part under “disgusting, do not remind” and wiggled a little to loosen Joshua’s grip on his midsection.

“Hang on,” Joshua hissed out. “Easy does it.”

“That was easy?”

“You should see hard,” Joshua said, smirking as he raised an eyebrow. “And it might surprise you but… I think we’re here.”

Joshua rocked on the shoulders of his wings, pushing them both upright and parting a crack for them to see from.

The world consisted of a single, stained-glass building in a shattered-glass sky. The ground crunched with hardened paint beneath them.

“Somewhere high, following the rules… and nothing to focus on. Neku, sometimes, only sometimes, am I reminded of your genius.”

“I am in elbow-to-face range,” Neku reminded him.

“Yes, dear, and you’d best stay that way unless you want to swallow glass,” Joshua pointed out. “I’m too concerned about flying through that with a passenger, let alone someone alive, so we’re going to walk in tandem to the entrance and pray there’s no tricks along the way.”

Neku wanted to argue he wasn’t much for prayer but being cocooned in angel wings wasn’t doing him any favors in that department.

“Well at least I’m getting the inspiration I was looking for,” Neku muttered as he marveled through the tiniest of openings in between Joshua’s feathers. They both shuddered as pellets of colored glass dogged them like rain, Neku grimacing with each step.

“I think that is this world’s rain,” Joshua said aloud. “What? You’re thinking too loud. Either shut up or I’ll nitpick your thoughts. Last you want to do is swallow glass talking out loud, anyway.”

They walked in silence for what felt like eternity, roughly matching steps so their wing-cocoon tank didn’t topple. Peppered by the shards of rain, Neku was slowly getting a better view of the world outside his feathered umbrella.

The tower reminded him of Pork City, though it stretched upwards through molten clouds that burned red hot like liquid glass being worked at a forge. The whole thing was stained glass of infinite color—giant, angular panes crossed and reinforced by black, wrought iron-like supports, with sharp points sticking out at odd angles from the structure.

“I think so too,” Joshua agreed with Neku’s wandering thoughts. “That’s Pork City, all right—made from Reaper wings. It looks like a gorgeous prison. A prison all the same, though,” he added, sighing.

Soon enough, the entrance loomed overhead, its maw of black webbing haphazardly stuffed with angular pastel glass. The tinkle of the rain bounced off the overhang as Joshua ever-so-slowly folded his wings behind him.

“I think you’re safe, for now,” he said, with the authoritativeness betraying his true age. “I promise, I’m not going to let you die here—you’re still holding Sanae’s book.”

“Because that’s all you care about,” Neku grumbled, to Joshua’s pout. “Oh, come off. I’m going to make up for all the teasing you did to me. Now let’s hope there’s an elevator in there or you’ll be flying us up the stairs.”

Xxx

“Lights are on; nobody’s home,” Joshua said, looking around as the two shuffled inside. “Okay, I’m letting go.”

“You’re what!” Neku shrieked, breathing heavy as Joshua smirked, unhooking his hands from around Neku’s waist. “Didn’t that other Hanekoma say it was a bad idea?”

“Oh, it’s a cataclysmically terrible idea. You’ll be trapped here forever now.”

“Joshua–I—you’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”

“I mean, of course. I’m an ass, but nobody’s that heartless.”

“You murdered me. Twice.”

“I also brought you back to life, so no complaints,” Joshua snipped back. “Now, what have we here?”

Neku sighed, reminded of exactly how aggravating the little god could be. He looked around the entry foyer. The walls inside the building were a blinding white, almost piercing in their contrast to the stained glass on the outer walls of the monstrous tower. “I think this thing is alive,” Neku muttered.

“It’s not,” Joshua said, almost too quickly. “Or, rather, it’s as alive as Sanae or I am.”

“So it’s, what, an angel?”

Joshua kneeled down to touch the floor, a soft white abalone with a pearlescent sheen. “Yes. And we just entered the mouth.” Neku shuddered. “Oh, it’s not really that big a deal, Neku,” Joshua said, standing up and tsk-ing him with a finger. “This building is no more going to digest you than a wooden one; though I’m sure you’ve seen trees grow around and consume cars and houses.”

“Not helping,” Neku grumbled. “Hey, I’m not sure if it’s the retina damage, but are the walls bleeding paint?”

Joshua tucked his massive wings up high on his back, where they still trailed behind him like a couture dress, and shimmy-hopped over to the interior wall. “Oh, it’s probably retina damage,” he said cheerily, “you’re looking at pure light after all. But you’re not wrong.” Joshua swiped his hand along the wall, coming off it with a smear of mustard yellow acrylic paint. He blew on it, drying it immediately, and peeled it off like a face mask. “Must be the elevator hidden in the wall and… here we go.”

With a squelching sound like wrenching a tooth out of its socket—Neku wondering with a shudder that if that actually was a tooth—Joshua dislodged the panel, revealing a plush, red-velvet-lined elevator speckled with flecks of paint.

“If that’s a tongue, I’m out of here,” Neku complained.

“It’s not a tongue,” Josh said with a suspicious grin, stuffing himself inside with his wings still exposed. Neku shuffled and squeezed in, a massive feather poking him in the backside. The doors closed. “It’s the esophagus, Neku.”

Xxx

“Can’t you put those away?” Neku asked, after what felt like an eternity of being smothered by a giant chicken.

Joshua sighed, looking more serious than Neku was ever used to. “Yes, but I won’t.”

Neku expected him to elaborate, but Joshua merely went silent, hands out and open and feathers fluffed up.

Quickly, Neku understood why. It started quietly, a ping and a plop and a hiss, and became louder and more intense with each passing second. A few moments later, Neku was positive he wasn’t hearing things; it sounded like rain pouring from a gutter except… the rain was a stream of fire-engine red and the gutter was the walls of the elevator. The liquid pooled in the velvet flooring like blood matting the fur on a wounded, furry animal.

“Neku, move in before I make you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice as Joshua threw his wings up around them again, reaching a hand out of the fluffy shield to pull the emergency stop on the elevator panel. Neku didn’t even realize how fast they’d been ascending until they screeched to a halt.

“The walls are bleeding.”

“Paint,” Joshua replied. “It’s just paint.”

“You also said the building was an angel,” Neku reminded him testily. “What’s to say that this isn’t—”

“Angel blood melts like acid,” Joshua replied flatly. Neku didn’t know if he were telling the truth or not, but the soles of his shoes, now caked in it, weren’t dissolving.

Joshua pulled him close, wrapping his left arm around his shoulders and left wing over that like a shield. Neku couldn’t see anything but white, but he felt a jolt of exertion and heard Joshua swear low.

“Neku, dear, stay close and don’t scream.”

In the time it took him to blink, the Joshua that Neku was familiar with vanished. Every pore of the elevator was leaking paint in gushes now; thankfully blues and greens and hot pinks, to put Neku slightly more at ease, balanced evenly with the remainder of the free space taken up by living, swirling paint.

Noise.

One giant one.

It was silent and snake-like, and it dug its claws into the elevator door, wrenching it open without a sound save the rushing air.

The elevator had stopped between two floors, and the Noise slipped out the bottom to slide down to the floor below.

Move, it demanded of him. Drowning in paint doesn’t belong in your obituary.

Neku more or less knew the beast had been Joshua, but the voice in his head finally cemented it.

“I’ll break my legs.”

“I’ll catch you.”

Neku didn’t even register the response said aloud, slipping down the paint-soaked velvet and landing in a nest of color-streaked feathers.

“See?”

“I’m drenched,” Neku grumped, and then realized he wasn’t. His and Joshua’s clothes were pristine again, though the wild streaks of paint still covered Neku’s arms and Joshua’s feathers.

“Not getting rid of it all. I don’t know if the building is trying to attack us and I’d rather we still smell like it.”

“You think?” Neku asked sarcastically. He looked around the room. Paint had pooled in oil-slick puddles on the floor and was leaking out cracks in the walls. Neku heard dripping from overhead, looking up to see globs of color slowly plopping from the ceiling. The acrylic paint’s own drying-to-plastic properties were likely the only thing preventing a flood of multicolored rain on them.

Carefully, Neku hot-footed around the deepest puddles and made his way to the stained glass on the perimeter.

“We are really high up,” he breathed out, looking at the world below.

Joshua fluttered, and landed gracefully next to him. “We are. Care not to break the glass.”

“I’m not that—”

“—without me,” Joshua continued, barreling for the window, grabbing Neku as he shattered an entire pane.

For a moment, time stood still, not that it mattered much in this place to begin with. The triangular pastel shards exploded out with them on the side of the building and Neku swore he heard it scream. The shards from the broken window floated around them, glittering against the glass rain pelting them from above. Joshua pulled Neku in tighter, wings curled.

“Duck.” That was Neku’s only warning as Joshua opened his wings to propel them up against the pellets of crystalline rain before hurling himself sideways, crashing into another exterior wall.

“Human bodies are too frail,” Joshua tsk’ed at him once they finished rolling in a 20 centimeters deep pool of paint. With a hand wave, Neku found himself as clean as he could be, and free of scratches.

Paint sluiced down from their entry hole, likely streaking the outside of the building as the room began to drain. Neku shook the stars from his eyes as Joshua flicked his fingers across his button-down shirt, sending the liquid colors away as he did so.

His wings were still streaked with neon.

The room had no stairs, no elevator shaft, from what Neku could see. It was just glass around the outside and a concrete floor and ceiling. Scattered about the room were pillars and flat concrete pieces, some wall-to-ceiling, but most about half height—like an art gallery.

The entire room, save the glass, was completely covered in art.

Graffiti.

Classical.

Renaissance.

Ukiyo-e

Cubist.

It was one step short of being an eyesore. And as the paint drained out, pouring down the exterior side of the building, Neku could see the floor, too, covered with incredible works of art. He felt almost embarrassed when he moved his foot, leaving behind a hot-pink footprint on impressionist lilies.

“They’re just copies,” Joshua said sternly, looking around. “Technically precise, but nothing original except in how it’s all mashed together.”

Neku nodded. “I just stepped in Monet.”

“Well, a good copy. Poor Sanae. Stay on your guard, Neku; he’s up here somewhere. And he’s probably not going to look like what you’re used to.”

“Like how you were a dragon?” Neku asked.

“His street art handle isn’t CAT for nothing.”

“I’m assuming it’s not a housecat, then,” Neku hissed back, suddenly concerned. Both of them winced on hearing a howl.

Quiet, Joshua ordered inside his head. And stay behind me.

Neku nodded and the two wove their way through the gallery, following the sound of growls and irritated hisses. Joshua slowly peeled around a corner, motioning for Neku to follow.

A great graffiti-winged panther that Neku could only assume was Mr. Hanekoma glared back through acid-paint eyes.

Xxx

Joshua shoved Neku roughly aside, striding confidently to the massive graffiti beast.

“Hello, old friend,” Joshua said, tired and aged himself.

The creature screamed. The concrete half-wall Neku had been cowering behind exploded into fragments of color and shrapnel.

The beast froze, sniffed. It took one step, then another, leaning its gargantuan head over the broken divider to look down at Neku.

Neku had never been terrified before. Even in the Game, he’d had periods when he was scared, adrenaline coursing through him like the drug it was. But this abject fear to witness a man he trusted—who he might even consider a friend—be reduced to a mindless abomination drooling tempera paint overhead was sobering.

The beast opened its maw wide. Joshua jumped to his side in a flash, throwing up a wing to protect him.

Hanekoma tilted his head a little, reminiscent of a puppy. “Ne….ku?”

Xxx

Neku and Joshua watched over the next…however long it took. Hanekoma paced, occasionally knocking over a bucket of paint or, in one case, slamming into one of the concrete half-wall dividers with his flank as his graffiti form jittered and convulsed.

He’s coming back around, Joshua hissed in Neku’s head. At this point, we just need to wait.

Neku nodded. Joshua still held a wing up and an iron grip on the other’s arm and waist, but it was with good reason. Hanekoma screamed again, rupturing the concrete and Neku’s eardrums. For a few moments, Neku saw nothing but static, before the searing pain faded.

“—Sanae, Sanae, come back to us,” Joshua pleaded in croaking whispers as Neku’s hearing returned. “Please. Your attacks are only hurting him, see? I just had to completely repair his eardrums.”

The cat-beast howled again, knocking Neku utterly unconscious this time.

Xxx

Neku came to on the floor of the gallery, slowly taking stock of the room around him through hazy peripheral vision. Most of the dividers were at least punched through, if not entirely destroyed. A cold hand covered most of his forward vision, however.

“Neku, can you hear me?” Hanekoma’s gruff voice was twanged with concern.

“He should; I fixed his eardrums twice in one eternity,” Joshua grumped.

“Mister….H?” Neku croaked.

“J, make him some water.”

Slowly, a sturdy arm pulled Neku to sitting, leaning his body back into something warm, but lacking breath and a pulse. It was too broad to be Joshua, confirmed when the other hand slipped away to take an offered bowl of water.

Hanekoma was in human form again. Human-ish, at least.

“Drink, kiddo.”

“I’m twenty,” Neku protested before coughing up a little blood, realizing that was the first full sentence out of his mouth to the former barista.

“Hey, all humans are kids to me,” Hanekoma laughed. “J, he needs his throat patched up too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joshua whined, leaning forward to place three fingers against Neku’s neck. Immediately, Neku felt a wave of calm wash over, and his throat felt clear. “Now drink, before I whip you up an IV. I can patch you up, but I’m not magically refilling you with lost fluids. I don’t have the brainspace right now for that.”

Neku slowly downed the water, leaning heavily into Hanekoma. “I don’t have the brainspace to brain for at least a week.”

“I don’t think any of us do,” Hanekoma added. “I’m not even sure how I’m back to any kind of sanity as it is.”

Joshua rolled his eyes and refilled the water bowl with a gesture. “Enough of you was sane enough to be worried.”

“You brought a living human as bait, J! Of course I was worried.”

“It worked.”

“That doesn’t make it—” Hanekoma hissed, squeezing Neku’s shoulders a little too hard.

“I missed you,” Neku cut in. “It looked like all of Shibuya did, even though they never knew who you were.”

“Of course they knew,” Hanekoma said gently. “I was the local barista, ready with a good cup ‘o joe. I was the artist that painted the town red.”

“All the Reapers I spoke to had nothing but praise for you,” Neku continued. “I ran all over the city today finding that out.”

Neku felt the single loud thump of a heartbeat from the ethereal body keeping him upright. “Really now?”

“None of them knew you had a connection to the game either,” Neku continued, getting a second wind. “They just praised CAT’s art and WildKat’s coffee.”

“Hmph.”

“Won’t you come back, Sanae?” Joshua asked, a pleading smile on his lips. “It’s been too long.”

“I wish I could, J.”

“What do you mean you wish? You’re an Angel, for Someone’s sake!”

“Er, about that,” Hanekoma said, scratching the back of his head. “I’m… well. I’m not not an angel, I guess. But this is my punishment.”

“You’re definitely under supervision,” Joshua said testily. “Your warden was more annoying than anything else.”

“I take offense to that,” Hanekoma’s voice reverberated through all three of them.

Joshua nearly growled. “You know, you could have skipped the theatrics. If you wanted us gone, you could have Erased us, or just booted us out.”

Neku blinked the last of the daze away. “Hold on. I’m missing something here.”

“Remember how we passed a million billion WildKats and Sanaes and Shibuyas trying to find this place?” Joshua grumbled. “And how Sanae knew what we were doing? Angels have a singular hive mind. Mostly. I’m not actually an Angel, mind you—sort of just a hatchling, an infant. But he’s a real-deal Higher Plane beastie.”

Neku frowned, putting up a finger, lost in thought. Hanekoma went to speak, only for Joshua to shush him.

“Neku’s smart enough to put the pieces together. Give him a moment.”

“I gave him at least a concussion, if not brain damage, J.”

“Which I fixed.”

“The building.” Neku’s face sharpened into a frown.

Joshua and Hanekoma turned their heads to Neku, now sitting upright unassisted as he bopped his finger to his own internal music, slotting what he knew in place. “You said the building was an angel. This building, this whole thing, is this dimension’s Mr. H. All of the other yous are mad at you, aren’t they?”

Hanekoma nodded, exhaling a sigh. “I’m… sort of still an angel. But they cut me off from the Hive and took my inspiration. I can’t leave until I have them back.”

“I’m going to have a word with Management.” Joshua hoisted himself off the shrapnel-pocked floor, stomping a foot. “Elevator, if you please.”

“J, you’re crazy.”

“Aware. So?”

The three heard a ding as a concrete cube rose from the floor, the elevator with it. It opened with a smooth motion, the door already fixed but the interior still caked in paint.

“Am I the hostage negotiator, or can all of us go?” Joshua asked the elevator, irritated, arms crossed and wing-feathers fluffed in annoyance. In response, the elevator ballooned sideways, expanding the interior to accommodate three adults and one massive pair of wings.

“All right,” Joshua sighed out. “Everybody in.”

Xxx

The elevator hummed pleasantly and dinged, opening back up to the pearly-white entryway. The large front doors—triangular shards of crisscrossing stained glass—were blocked off by an aggressive black chain and padlock. A gleaming solid front desk sat at the entryway with a bored Hanekoma flipping lazily through a completely blank magazine. He shot them a grin; Neku noticed he was missing a tooth.

“Ah, hello. Thanks for giving me one heck of a sore throat, J.”

“Can it. I’m busting him out,” Joshua snapped, straight to the point.

Hanekoma put down the magazine, all high-gloss and solid-white pages. “Oh? How?”

Joshua pointed at the door, the chain and lock melting like acid under his gaze. “The front door, how else? Unless you want a few more teeth popped out.”

“That isn’t what I meant, J,” Hanekoma-behind-the-counter said simply. “Your me isn’t an angel right now. You take him out of here and he’s a mortal. I give him a few decades, tops. Stay and he’ll pay his price eventually; won’t you, you sorry excuse for a me?”

Joshua’s Sanae wrung his hands. “I’ll head back up. I did say you didn’t need to come for me, J.”

“If you leave before your sentence is up… you’re mortal?” Joshua asked, his voice cracking a little.

“Yeah, sorry Boss. I’ll take the long way ‘round.”

Neku frowned, scratching at some dried paint on his cheek. “Hang on. What is his sentence exactly? Josh, you said yours was being banned from the RG, but nothing stopped you from letting me see the UG.”

Joshua broke out into a nasty grin. “Ohhhhhhhh Neku, dear. I need to have you get brain damage more often.”

“No,” Neku interjected flatly.

“Aw, it was only a temporary inconvenience. Anyway, Sanae—either of you—what is his exact punishment from the Higher Plane? I want the full contract.”

The glass world’s Sanae slid him the blank magazine. “They were pretty thorough.”

Xxx

When Neku turned his back on the front desk, a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table, all in different shades of blinding alabaster, existed under the overhang just to the side of the entryway. The tinkle of stained-glass-shard rain peppered the overhang roof and a rainbow of garish light streaked in between the storm clouds outside. Joshua lifted his wings, draped them over the back of the sofa, and got to reading.

The only sounds were the tinkling of the rain, Joshua’s ever-ticking watch, and the occasional turn of a page.

Neku tapped his fingers on his jeans. “Can I do anything?”

“No,” muttered Joshua, half in thought flipping through the plain pages.

“Haven’t you done enough?” asked the bored warden, slouching at his desk.

“I could… clean the elevator,” Neku offered, trying to figure out something to do. He was definitely caught in some sort of celestial war, played out in miniature. Everything was over his head right now as he looked sideways to the glass-world Hanekoma. He looked the same as all the others—rolled-up button down, slacks, waistcoat, watch, sandals, sunglasses, messy hair—though he did seem a bit more… shiny, like light was reflecting off of him. Neku didn’t want to consider what it meant for him to both be standing at the front counter as well as being the entire building.

“You’d do that?” the glass angel questioned, confused.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m just standing here. And it’s partially my fault that happened. More so if it’s hurting you.”

“Angels aren’t people, Neku,” he replied, handing him a bucket of soapy water from nowhere. “We don’t feel pain.”

“You’re clearly in pain,” Neku shot back in a whisper after Joshua rustled the magazine loudly, clearing his throat in a way reminding Neku to not disturb him. “Let me help.”

“Help, huh?” The glass Hanekoma smiled, the missing tooth returning to its space after a moment of static. “That’s a new thought.”

“Nobody’s ever helped you before?” Neku asked, concerned, as the elevator dinged and opened. He walked to it, both Sanaes following. One handed the other another bucket, then made one for himself. The three went inside and Neku took to the floor, carefully washing down the carpeting. The door slid closed and the three worked in silence.

“Not me, no,” the glass one admitted. “Not most of us. Angels don’t interact with your kind, or they really aren’t supposed to. I think some of us are jealous of the us from your world.” Another beat of silence. “I know I am.”

“Then why don’t you leave?” Neku asked.

“The other mes would make me a traitor, same as that one.” He jabbed his thumb at his duplicate. “In all honesty, I think it’s better than wasting away with only our own thoughts for company. All of us know it too—only that one said the quiet part out loud. There’s a small and finite number of angels, but an infinite number of each of us. One broken hive is a massive blow to the higher plane—kind of contradictory when you realize we run on Imagination. Think about it for five seconds and—”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Neku cut in, satisfied with the state of the floor, moving on to an aggressive teal spot on the wall. “If you run on Imagination but you’re made up as a ton of fragments that all have to think alike, any dissent and your own self turns on you. Seems a bit counterintuitive to have it that way.”

“The only possible outcome is to break apart from within,” Hanekoma agreed, but Neku wasn’t sure which one of them said it. Inside the elevator, the glass one didn’t have the odd shine he’d had in the foyer. At this point, he wasn’t sure it mattered.

Xxx

Neku and both Hanekoma exited the elevator, Joshua still pouring over the magazine. “They really did try and close every possible loophole,” he muttered. “I can’t see a way out… shy of killing you,” he added, looking up at the two angels. “And now I can’t even tell you apart.”

One of them smiled. “Neku just opened one up for you.”

“Oh?”

“Clause 16b.2.”

“Yes, ‘should the warden be unfit for service, Hanekoma is to serve the remainder of the sentence under a new warden.’ I was going to kill you and claim myself warden.”

“There’s no way the Higher Power would allow that. He’d just be transferred,” the other one said. Joshua raised an eyebrow to the first one—his Hanekoma. He slid his eyes between the two of them and the glass one scratched the back of his neck.

“Sit. I’ll get us something to drink.”

Neku shrugged and practically threw himself into one of the chairs, sighing as he sank into it. It was soft and warm and the light pinging of the rain overhead was lulling him to sleep.

“Stay awake,” Hanekoma ordered, pinching his elbow. “You started going see-through when you passed out last time—it’s what jolted me to consciousness. You aren’t coming all this way just for me to see you fade to nothing, Neku.”

Neku jolted upright, just as a steaming cup of coffee was placed in his hands. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” the glass Hanekoma said, determined. A third settee appeared between the other two; their captor-slash-host sat in it, placing a tray of coffee, tea, and snacks on the table between them. “And anyway, I’m unfit to be Hanekoma’s warden now. The Higher Plane may come for me soon. Though, soon here could be eons off. I know my time doesn’t run at the same pace as most of the other dimensions; that’s why I was picked to watch him. Joshua, they would never accept you under probation, but… Neku—you seem to be a favorite of upper management. Transferring to you shouldn’t be a problem. Hand him the contract, J.”

Neku blinked a bit of the daze from his eyes, downing the beverage. It felt like more than mere coffee, a solid glass of liquid courage, emboldening him.

Joshua hesitated, but passed the blank, glossy magazine sideways to Neku. He then stared down at the tray of offered snacks and carefully picked out a chessboard cookie, frowning at it, before biting the head off the knight’s horse.

Words swirled on the paper in Neku’s peripheral vision before he could see them straight off. “Can I get a translation?” he asked meekly, looking at the mess of block print before him.

“Did I not write it in Japanese?” Glass-Hanekoma asked.

“That’s not what I meant,” Neku sulked. “I can’t read lawyer.”

Joshua craned his neck sideways. “It’s a transferal of ownership contract. Standard language, except… hm. Neku, would you want to be an angel?”

Neku scrunched up his face. “Seeing what you deal with? No. I have enough trouble with artist’s block as it is. I’d rather it not be fatal.”

“Take out paragraphs eight and twenty, then.”

“Wait, this would have…”

“Made you one of us, yeah,” Joshua cut Neku off. “It does mean that if Hanekoma didn’t finish his sentence before you died, he would be mortal; so some sort of transferal clause needs to be added.”

Hanekoma snatched up the magazine, flicking it. “Consider it done. Sign and get out of here before I’m taken away too.” He grinned slyly. “Maybe I can keep the domino chain going. Wouldn’t the upper management just love that?”

Neku flicked his eyes to Joshua. “I still trust you, Josh. How’s it look?”

“We can take him with us. You’re his warden ‘til you die or his sentence is done, then you can renegotiate angelhood if you want.”

“But… what is his sentence?” Neku asked, looking between the now indistinguishable Hanekoma.

“I have to re-earn my Imagination: the human way.”

“No magic?”

“Some magic. About as much as Josh has. Which is a lot compared to you. Very little compared to before. And none at all when I’m not near my warden… though I’m not sure how near near is.”

“Don’t worry about that,” the second Hanekoma said, squeezing the first’s shoulder. “I’ve given you a little extra juice on your way. I’m sure they’ll take mine from me anyway. It’s enough to manifest your wings again, at least. Now get out of here, before there’s bigger problems. All of us is already tattling.”

“Bunch of assholes,” Hanekoma hissed under his breath.

“We both were, too. Well, me at least. Think you were always the black sheep. Now, sign and get.”

Joshua plucked a pen from nowhere, handing it to Neku who turned to the angelic twins. “You trust me?”

“With your life,” both Hanekoma said with a nod.

Neku signed with a flick of his wrist, the pull of slumber taking him again. He could barely hear Hanekoma and Joshua shout something as they hauled him upright at the torso.

With a jerk that felt like someone had tied a rope around his waist and then yanked on it from behind, Neku blinked his eyes open to Hanekoma’s shop, as destroyed as it was when they’d left it. He gasped for breath, completely winded and woozy, the world spinning around him until he succumbed, sliding out of Hanekoma and Joshua’s shared grip to bounce on the cracked tile floor.

Xxx

Hanekoma frowned, flapping feathered wings he forgot he’d missed. “J, you know you can’t throw yourself around the mortals—not like that. Not even to someone like him.” Carefully, Hanekoma pulled Neku out of the rubble, flinging his body over a shoulder. “Be glad he’s just passed out. If he stayed a moment longer in that dimension, he would have been gone. You could have killed him or worse.”

“But I didn’t,” Joshua insisted. “I needed him.”

“Did he know the risks?” Hanekoma asked roughly, finally free to yell at his former boss-and-ward without Neku overhearing. “He didn’t. You never told him.”

“You said in your notes that I’d be a strain on him. He had to know what that meant.”

“There’s a difference in knowing what your toned-down presence would do over a week versus what the full force of your power would do to him in a few hours,” Hanekoma chided. “He may have known the former, but you certainly didn’t tell him the latter.”

“What’s your point?” Joshua asked, watching Hanekoma shift Neku’s unconscious form into a more comfortable carry.

“My point is, stop breaking things, J. Stop treating everything like a broken bone that’s healing the wrong way. Not everything has to be shattered even more to fix it.”

“You were imprisoned by the Angels! All for trying to protect this city!” Joshua protested.

“I would have finished my sentence eventually,” Sanae countered in a calm and even tone. “I may have been in that place for eons, but it was—what? Three years here, maybe?”

“Five,” Joshua whimpered with a pout.

Hanekoma’s eyes flicked up and down Joshua, seemingly searching for something. “I’m putting Neku down in a room and warding it. He needs to recoup.”

Hanekoma turned on his heel to the shop backrooms, leaving Joshua standing confused in the mound of rubble.

Xxx

Whatever Hanekoma was doing, he was taking his sweet time. But Joshua heeded the barista’s words and waited, rolling his shoulders and slowly ratcheting his own wings back into the ether. Bored, he made himself a broom from Imagination and began idly sweeping up the chipped plaster and shattered tile. Eventually, Hanekoma returned to the shop portion of the building, eyeing Joshua.

“Physical labor? That’s a first.”

“I… I feel,” Joshua said, stopping to roll the broom handle in his fingertips. “I feel responsible.”

Hanekoma lowered his shades, peering over them. “Responsible. Who are you and what have you done with J?”

“I grew up, Sanae. Someone had to. You weren’t here. I have a new Conductor and Producer now.”

“What, so I’m outta a job?”

“I’m not kicking you out,” Joshua said, almost pleading. “You just don’t have any obligations. Other than your sentence, I guess.”

“With Neku as my warden,” Hanekoma sighed out. “You didn’t need to plan a jailbreak, J. You’ve waited longer than five years for things before. It’s hardly an eye-blink to people like us.”

Joshua slunk to the floor, defeated and boneless as he slid down the broom handle. A small cloud of debris puffed up around him as he went.

“Drama queen,” Hanekoma tsk’ed as he joined his former colleague on the floor, nesting his wings around himself. “I can’t say this isn’t nice though. Missed ya, J. Being honest, I don’t remember much at all from that place, anyway. Could’ve been a long time there before I became myself again without your little stunt.”

Joshua didn’t answer.

They sat in silence a few moments, then Hanekoma choked back a cry as his coworker—his friend—grabbed him from behind, wrapping his arms around him just under his wings. Hanekoma flapped them in surprise as Joshua buried his head in the down.

Angel and Reaper wings were their Soul; one didn’t just touch them—not without explicit permission. To touch someone’s wings meant someone else could feel what they did. Feel their joy, their disgust, their pain, or all at once.

Hanekoma didn’t pull away. He could hear—just barely, but it was there—Joshua sobbing silently into his back. Joshua was, for the first time in his so-called-life, showing Hanekoma a vulnerability he didn’t know the other even possessed. Slowly, the barista relaxed both sets of shoulders, taking on more and more of Joshua’s weight until his Composer was literally leaning on him as much as metaphorically.

Seconds ticked away from Joshua’s Pegasso crystal-quartz watch, which turned to minutes, then a solid half hour. Slowly, Hanekoma felt the weight lift.

“You let me,” Joshua said, a bit hoarse, patting the down where wing phased through clothes.

“You needed it, J. Pain shared is pain halved. I was happy to listen.”

“You didn’t want to be saved,” Joshua said sharply. “Forgive me for feeling like you were ungrateful. But… you weren’t. You were protecting me from the angels and a sentence like yours. You were a fall guy.”

“Yes,” Hanekoma said slowly. “I didn’t want you to suffer, too. Not being visible to the RG is hardly a penalty compared to what I have.”

“Pain shared is pain halved,” Joshua threw back at him, wiping snot off his face. If he’d been in his teenage form, he would have looked like just another kid. But Joshua was an ugly crier, and as an adult, he just looked silly—more so with a few errant feathers from Hanekoma’s back stuck to his dripping snot and hair.

“Wash up—the backroom sink works,” Hanekoma insisted, flapping his wings a few times to get rid of any other loose feathers. “I need to do some tidying, anyway.”

Joshua reverently ran his fingers through the shoulder of Hanekoma’s left wing. “Clean the shop all you want; you know all about me and dirt. But leave this part to me.”

Xxx

“I kinda expected more, Sanae.” Joshua leaned in the doorframe, pristine as her always presented himself to the public.

“I’m not exactly going to waste my magic, Boss.” Hanekoma went back to wiping down the countertops with a wet rag. The only change Joshua could see was all the broken furniture piled in a corner, with the floor debris in an equally uncoordinated pile.

“The human way?” Joshua asked with a smirk.

“If I’m not your Producer, I need a little art project to keep me busy.”

“Wouldn’t really call fixing a coffee shop art,” Joshua scoffed.

“It’s not not art, though,” Hanekoma countered, flinging the wet rag on a shoulder and smiling at the dented, but still functional, kettle on the burner, whistling away. “Tea?”

“Mm,” Joshua hummed with a nod. “Also, Neku’s phone was ringing nonstop.” He pulled his own from a pocket. “Oh. It’s past ten PM. Someone’s probably been wondering what happened to him. Least it’s still the same day we left.” Joshua cracked a small smile. “Gone for a week and the mortals think you’re dead or something.”

Hanekoma threw the rag square in Joshua’s face, storming past him to go retrieve the offending cell phone.

Xxx

Hanekoma sat on one of the two useable stools, Joshua behind him on the other, sipping tea from one hand while using the other to pull out stuck feathers. The barista unlocked Neku’s phone, scrolling through twenty missed calls. “Shiki. That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.”

“You planning to call?”

“I should. Neku’s probably going to need a day or more to recuperate. And then you’re going to call his mother and let her know he’s sick with a fever.”

“Can’t. RG people can’t perceive me for another few years, remember? Phone calls included.” He grinned toothily. “You’ll just have to clean up the mess for me.”

Hanekoma sighed, stretching out his wings a little so Joshua could pull out all the powder down stuck from his eons of not taking care of himself, and pressed a familiar name in the missed calls history. “Hello? Shiki?”

“Oh my god, is this the police? Where’s Neku?”

“Shiki,” Hanekoma smiled a little, glad for a familiar voice. “It’s… Hanekoma Sanae—the café shop owner on Cat Street.”

Hanekoma waited patiently as Shiki processed what that meant. “If Neku is dead, I’m wringing a long line of necks. Joshua’s first; something tells me this is his fault.”

Joshua laughed hard enough to slam forward into the angel’s back; Sanae shot him a glare. “Neku is alive, but he’s taken a massive hit of Imagination. He’s probably going to sleep a day or two.”

“But he’s alive.”

“Alive and in no pain, with no injury. Mortals just can’t handle being around a city Composer too long.” Hanekoma glared over his shoulder at a snickering young-looking man in a lilac button down.

“I’m coming over there,” Shiki insisted. “And Joshua better be ready to take a knee to the balls.”

“Unfortunately, you won’t be able to see or hear him, but hang on,” Hanekoma said, pushing back on the deadweight behind him with his wings. “I’m putting you on speaker. Feel free to yell at him—I already have.”

Hanekoma clicked to speakerphone, maximizing the volume and holding the phone out behind him.

“Go ahead, Shiki. He can hear you.”

Shiki took in a deep breath, expelling a gasp of colorfully laced expletives so pointed Joshua’s hair began to catch fire. The moment she was out of breath, she slammed the end-call button with enough force that Joshua’s wings twitched, even within their aether.

“Josh, you’d better be out of my shop before she gets here or you’re going to be in deep shit.”

“I didn’t realize someone who played the Game before could deal that much splash damage,” Joshua complained, patting out the embers on the edges of his loose curls.

“You were human once yourself, J. Now bolt before she sets all of you on fire.”

“Good night to you too,” Joshua grumped, crossing his arms as he slid off the seat, leaving Hanekoma’s wings in a worse looking state than when he’d started. He saluted awkwardly to the sighing barista, disappearing out into the night.

Xxx

“How are you holding up, kiddo?”

Neku rubbed the crust out of his eyes. “What year is it?”

“Same one you were in before this mess.” Hanekoma smiled. “You slept away three days, though. I impersonated you on the phone to your mom and college—hope that’s alright.”

“So it’s…”

“Monday night. Six PM. Josh’s going to stay away from you for a while.”

“That why I feel like shit?”

“Mhmm. You want me to bring you in some food?”

“Bathroom,” Neku complained.

“Think mine still works.”

“You think?”

“Neku, I’m not human. I’ve never needed it.”

Xxx

“So now what?” Neku bit into his burger; nothing Hanekoma made, but then again, his kitchen was mostly still in shambles.

“I guess I rebuild. Maybe I take some art classes at community college.”

“Then I’m helping.”

“No, you’re-”

Neku glared up from his dinner. “That’s not up for debate. I’m your prison warden, remember? I help and in return, you let me paint in here.”

Hanekoma laughed. “You don’t even need to ask permission for that.”

“Oh, so I can tag every wall, floor, and ceiling in this bombed out husk of a deserted island?”

The barista frowned, leaning forward on the counter. “That didn’t get me any closer to having any inspiration, you know.”

“And I think that’s a lie,” Neku replied, crossing his arms. “Josh didn’t see it either. Maybe the individual components were copies, but that space you made in that other place was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Incredible doesn’t even begin to describe it. Nothing we do is truly unique anyway; we’re always working off the backs of those who came before us. It’s what voice we add to that conversation that makes our art what it is and… I should really be following my own advice. Hang on. I’m making a few calls, and you’re not stopping me.”

Neku pulled out his phone and rolled through his contacts list. “Hey, Sho. I’ve got a destroyed café here ripe for a giant-ass chandelier. You in?”

“Neku,” the other end of the line sounded annoyed. “I don’t do electrical.”

“So? You do the sculpture; I’ll get someone else to wire.”

“It’s going to be made of trash.”

“Why do you think I called your ass? Take notes; here’s the address.”

Xxx

“I haven’t done heavy lifting in… forever,” Hanekoma said, wiping actual sweat off his brow. It was a weird feeling, being sort-of human, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like it. The past six weeks had been a whirlwind with Neku in charge, directing a steady stream of ethereal beings— self included— into a massive renovation of his shop. The place was an explosion of color and life, an irony in real time to contrast the lack of both on the owner.

“Quit complaining,” Uzuki demanded, hauling the other end of the new bar counter. “If I can get Kariya to lift your tables in, you can help with your own damn high-top.”

“The one you danced on,” Hanekoma said with a grin, looking down at the hot purple and neon orange footprints crisscrossing the acrylic-sealed bar counter. The two had tangoed across a plank, then encased it for eternity in enough two-stage resin that it would never fade—Neku was particularly proud of that collaboration. Uzuki pushed the shop door with her shoulder, so both of them could bring the counter inside.

“—and you don’t need to hold that ladder, Neku.”

“I don’t want you falling,” Neku snapped back, looking up at the Reaper wiring in the shop’s new light fixture. It looked like a vending machine had exploded on the ceiling, and Hanekoma loved it.

“Neku, I can fly,” Triple Seven replied, waving a pair of wire strippers. He was flapping his wings to show those off as well, not that Neku could see them from the RG.

“My masterpiece can’t,” Sho grumbled from the corner, looking on in a mix of horror and awe as Seven worked his stage rigging magic to get the recycled-bottle chandelier hooked into the building’s wiring.

“Look, it’s way easier for me to do this if I’m not trying to balance,” Seven sighed out. “Sho, get up here and hold it in place, so I can finish. Neku, go help do something that doesn’t involve a ceiling or frying yourself on open electricals.”

Sho sighed, stood up, and vanished back into the UG, flapping up to hold the sculpture as Seven jumped off the ladder. Neku winced, unable to see either of them.

“If you can hear me, I’m going to check on Shiki and her friends making chair cushions.” Sho rattled the ladder with his foot, and Neku smiled. “Hey, Mr. H, your shop’s haunted.”

“I’d be more worried if it wasn’t.”

Xxx

“So?” Hanekoma slid a ceramic cup down the acrylic to Neku. “Get your grade back yet?”

“Semester ends in January, Mr. H; it’s gonna be a while yet. How about your magic?”

“While this helped, no. It’ll be a while yet for me too. Can’t complain about the décor, though.”

Hanekoma and Neku grinned, taking in the space. Except for one section of wall painted with chalkboard paint for patrons to go wild doodling on, every square inch of the shop was covered in art altogether dizzying and explosively contrast in design.

“Opens tomorrow, right? My teacher is coming around again to see it.”

“Soft open today though.”

“Sign said closed,” Neku pointed out with his teaspoon.

“Maybe for the living.”

“Ah, a few reapers pass by?” Neku asked with a smile. “Hey, make a bet with you.”

“What?”

“How many days the shop’s open before a paying customer draws a dick on your wall.”

“Zero.”

Neku looked sideways as a handful of change bounced across the counter, Sho coming into view. He downed his already half-drunk coffee and loped to the chalkboard to vandalize it. Neku flicked his eyes at the empty tables and chairs, a massive grin breaking out on his face as every single one was filled in with a Reaper, raising glasses in toast.

“We all needed someplace to stay,” Hanekoma said on the room’s behalf. “Thanks for giving us a home. It’s still pretty broken and lopsided, but I promise we’ll keep the lights on.”

“Mr. H, this was already your home.”

He shook his head. “No, Neku. It was only a shop.”

“If its home, does that mean the drinks are free?” A few reapers turned to the furthest corner of the room—Joshua grinned, sitting backwards in his chair.

“J, what did I say about coming ‘round when Neku’s here?” Hanekoma scolded.

“…Don’t?”

“Short bursts only, lest you want to clean up the exploding brains on the wall.”

Neku shrugged. “It’ll probably add to the ambiance.”

#TWEWY #The World Ends With You #TWEWY Bang 2020 #Subarashiki Kono Sekai #divisionten #submission

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mimzy-writing-online · 6 years ago

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Writing A Blind of Visually Impaired Character: Mannerisms

This post is part of a multi-step guide to writing blind characters, and it’s master post to all parts is linked here: https://mimzy-writing-online.tumblr.com/post/185122795699/writing-a-blind-or-visually-impaired-character

All posts on writing blind characters will be tagged #blindcharacter for you to search on my blog for.

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Disclaimer: I am a very real visually impaired person who has been living with my disability for two years and these are little things I specifically do, little mannerisms that developed because of my blindness

Part Five: Blindisms or Mannerisms that Breathe Life into Your Characters

Biological Things

-My eyes get tired so easily, and when I say tired I mean they start aching and my vision gets even worse as the day progresses. The muscles start to ache and I’ll press or pinch the area around my eyes because of the pain

-Eye strain will cause headaches. When I get eyestrain I have to take off my glasses, stop looking at screens, and just relax for a while in bed until my eyes feel a little better.

-Weather has a huge impact on how I see, and any light sensitive person with a fair amount of remaining vision will probably have the same problem. Light sensitive people will find sunny days much harder, but overcast days can be a little difficult too because the sun tends to diffuse all across the sky through the clouds and the entire sky is bright

-Snow. This isn’t a me thing because I don’t live in this climate and never have to deal with it, but snow days are incredibly disorientating to people with vision issues. It covers any ground land marks you might use to know where you are (sidewalk versus grass versus street)

-Rain puddles are difficult to see and obnoxious to walk through, and your cane just sloshes through them (my mom usually warns me in advance and tells me how to avoid them)

Hobbies and Interests

-We’re actually not bared from many hobbies and activities. There are some very athletic blind people out there who play sports. Molly Burke used to rock climb and teach at a rock climbing gym when she was younger, she also learned to surf at one point. She’s gone bungee jumping and sky diving. There are lots of athletic blind people out there.

-Martial arts is very possible for blind people and certain organizations for the blind teach self defense classes. So, in case any of you were mad at me for saying you shouldn’t write Daredevil, my point is that you shouldn’t give your blind character unrealistic super senses. Your blind character can still kick some ass when needed.

-I play video games. It’s not impossible, although it is very hard for me. I still love it. I personally play Overwatch on PC and I’ve been playing Sims for years

-Reading is something a lot of blind people enjoy, and it’s sometimes described as the blind person’s version of TV, a way for them to see in their minds eyes what they can’t see with TV. So for this reason I have and will continue to tell you to keep your blind readers in mind and not traumatize, kill, assault, or victimize your blind characters for plot.

-We read in different ways. Some only read through audio books, some read through screen readers, some read on their tablets or laptops because they can enlarge font, some read printed books with magnifiers. It all heavily depends on how much sight your character has left and where they like to get their reading material. For example, if you read fanfiction a lot you will probably have to rely on screen readers on your laptops to read to you, but if you like reading published books then you will rely more on audio books.

-We do watch TV and movies, even if we can’t see the screen at all. Some movies and tv shows come with audio description for the blind, and they describe visual details on screen. You have access to lots of examples of this, because Netflix does have audio description for a lot of their shows and movies. Check audio description on your favorite Netflix Original and minimize your browser window to the background to experience movie going the blind way

-We can cook, and sometimes amazingly. Christine Hà is a blind chef who won the third season of master chef and she is amazing. She published her own cookbook too. Some schools for the blind will offer cooking classes as part of their rehabilitation services

-Art. I recommend hopping on google and checking out some blind artists out there. I’m sure you’ll be surprised by a few. There are painters, sculptors, pottery makers, photographers, and many more. My second blind character is learning to draw in school and will over time develop his own cartoonish style of drawing.

-Music. Yeah, I know I said I didn’t want to see the blind music prodigy again, but that’s because I wanted to see you guys come up with your own stories and your own unique characters. There are some wonderful blind musicians and your blind character deciding to learn to play an instrument for the first time during the course of your story would actually be pretty cool.

Theatre. It would be really cool to see some acting blind characters. Doctor Who had Ellie Wallwork, a blind actress play a blind character on their eleventh season. She was amazing and I really loved that episode, it was my favorite in the whole season. (I also adore Jodie Whittaker)

There are so many more hobbies that you can have, even with vision loss. Some might require you to adjust how you do that hobby, but with the right accommodations you can do just about anything really. (Except drive. Please don’t drive.)

Little Enjoyable Things

-Interesting textures. The less your characters see, the more obsessed they get with interesting textures. Hard ceramic mugs with decorative bumps, soft and fluffy blankets, crochet blankets and pillows, tile lines and patterns, any raised surface like slightly raised letters on a book cover, rocks with interesting but not too sharp textures. The more vision loss you have, the more you rely on your hands and your hands become a way of seeing for you.

-I have bought bumpy mugs and soft blankets and textured pillows for exactly this reason. My fingers touched them and just enjoyed the hell out of it.

-Your hands becoming a way for you to see makes you want to touch everything (except faces) Shopping in stores is especially bad because I’m touching everything even though I have quite a bit of sight left.

-There are favorite outfits, purely because what you’re wearing has the comfiest texture

-Soothing sounds and music. I’m not big into ASMR but some people might be. I like quiet background music

-Sometimes I tap my cane on pavement or other hard surfaces just to hear the way it sounds. I can’t echo-locate, most people can’t, but it’s a weird form of sensory

-Loud environments where sounds seem to come from all directions is overwhelming and not enjoyable

Cane Safety Things

-Bring your cane everywhere

-Have a backup cane when travelling long distance in case something goes wrong

-Don’t ever touch my cane. I mean it, don’t! My cane is an extra limb, it is part of my body and I get incredibly nervous when people touch it, especially if I don’t know them well. I only trust a few people to hold my cane with them for even a minute (my mom, maybe my best friend if I’m trying to put on a sweater and can’t hold it the whole time)

-Cane height: your character’s cane should be as tall as their shoulder, at least, or maybe a few inches taller to their chin.

-Because of this I like to lean forward and rest my chin on my cane when I’m bored and waiting for something (like a line)

-In general I just fidget with my cane so much

-You can actually get custom canes. I have a cane with a royal purple tip instead of red. You can get a cane that’s entirely pink or blue or black or whatever. You can add reflective tape to make you more visible.

-Some people prefer long canes that don’t fold, some people prefer folding canes. It’s really a personal decision. I’ve heard long canes are better for tactile feedback because the vibrations when they hit an object or tap the ground are more accurate. I like folding canes because I like storing it away when I don’t need it right away (in class, sitting at a booth in a restaurant, in my backpack) My preference for folding canes goes back to my paranoia of people touching it when I’m not paying attention

-Long canes that don’t fold are not easy to fit into cars and you need to get creative.

Guide Dog Things / Animal Things

-I will include a more serious list about guide dogs in my Part Four about tools and things blind people use to survive (canes, guide dogs, accessibility tools, braille) but for now this is more of a fun list

-I can’t say this from personal experience because I have never had a guide dog, but I’ve had pets and let me tell you, everyone loves spoiling their pets with gifts and hugs and pets

-Soft animals are so fun to pet

-Please tell me when there’s a cat nearby, even if I can’t pet it. I love cats? Wild bunnies too? (I’m super allergic to bunnies, I should never pet them, but I love their existence, they’re so cute)

-Some blind people are not dog people and will not get a guide dog for this reason. They are still valid. People who aren’t dog people are still valid, regardless of ability or disability.

General Safety Things

-Depending on the orientation and mobility skills of your character, they may not feel super comfortable walking out alone, and this comes down to how much training they have, how independent they are, and if they’re generally and anxious person or a self-assured person. Some blind people are great at inner city travel and can do so confidently, others feel less confident (I’m personally not great at crossing busy streets by myself and parking lots are scary to me)

-They may not like bars or nightclubs- this comes down to who your character is. Bars and nightclubs are loud, it’s hard to talk, they’re crowded so using a cane or guide dog isn’t easy or sometimes possible. They’re also poorly lit and if your character has some remaining vision but is night blind, this is especially bad. Because of how preyed upon women are, especially disabled women, your character probably won’t feel safe in a bar or nightclub because they know creeps might target them because they can’t see

-Being blind, you develop this awareness that there are predators out there in the world who see your blindness as something to exploit, that will make you easy to assault or abuse.

NOTE: please don’t use this as an excuse to write a rape as part of your plot. The general consensus of readers has come to the conclusion that using rape as something to further your plot is a terrible thing to do, it is cheap and unoriginal plot development and that you shouldn’t do it. You especially shouldn’t put your blind characters through something traumatic like this. Seriously guys, blind people are coming to your stories because they want to see themselves represented. Seeing themselves victimized will only hurt them. DON’T hurt your readers like that

-Because of this awareness of how vulnerable you can be, you learn to walk in groups and avoid places where predators frequent (bars and nightclubs)

God, this thing is getting long and there are so many other little blindisms that I’ve probably not thought of yet. I will probably make more posts in the future about blindness, including little stories or things I experience.

Follow this blog for more writing advice (and posts about experiencing the blind life)

#writing advice #writing tips #writing #writeblr #blindcharacter #my advice #mine

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anonymous-cy-666 · 5 years ago

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Holy fuck, I’m in love!

This is something small that I did for my friend on our discord server. It’s inspired by a prompt and also by how we came to meet, a while back. It can be read as platonic or romantic LAMP! I hope you like it! Small disclaimer, there are some swear words in this so if this isn’t your thing... you won’t like most of what I write.

--------------------------------------------- For Virgil Dharke, it had all started a couple of months ago. He had been hanging out on Tumblr on a sleepless night, as he usually did when his roommates were in the apartment, and he didn’t want to bother them by turning on the TV in the living room when he had stumbled onto an ask blog.

Ask blogs weren’t usually his things. He didn’t want to try to find questions that would further the plot without putting the author in a bad spot or risk sending boring questions that would only be answered out of pity. But, he liked the drawing of this particular author, so he decided to read what was currently out and forget about it after that. After all, it was only two AM and, he didn’t have anything to do the day after. He had checked at least 10 times earlier to be sure that he absolutely didn’t have anything to do tomorrow. And, in a couple of hours, he had read everything that the blog had to offer him.

But instead of closing the blog and going back to Youtube to see if anything new had come out since he had last stalked his favourite Youtubers, he got out his graphic tablet and started drawing one of the side characters that had been presented on the ask blog. His hand was itching with a familiar sensation. As soon as he had started being engaged within the plot, he hadn’t been able to help himself but wonder how he would personally draw certain characters. How he could think of other clothes that would fit them or how he could put them in other situations. He didn’t stop until he was sure it was perfect. Then, he went on his own account and published the picture, too tired to overthink it and fell back into his bed. The next day, when he woke up and immediately grabbed his phone, he was greeted by a notification. The author of the Tumblr blog had reblogged his picture and suddenly, he was bombarded by comments and notes. He, of course, immediately went over to Janus’ room to panic. Since then, he had become a known figure on the ask blog. Whenever there was an update, people knew that Virgil or, as he was known then, PanicAtTheAnxiety would soon be posting something too. This was something that Virgil had grown comfortable with. After all, if he fucked up monumentally, he only had to disappear from the internet in a couple of weeks, no one would remember him because anyway, he wasn’t that important after all. But then, the author had decided to create a Discord server for anyone who wanted to discuss the universe with other people and the author themselves!

This, this had again, made Virgil race to Janus’ room. Of course, he wanted to talk about some of his favourite character with people other than Janus who was always critiquing the intelligence of some of the main character and Remus who always turned everything into a possible gory or horny scenario. But, what if people didn’t like him? What if they thought that he was boring? What if they saw the way that he typed when he wasn’t trying to be professional and, they didn’t want to talk to him anymore? What if they mocked him? What if it was all just a joke to make fun of him and there wasn’t even a discord server in the first place? Seeing the man going down in a spiral of anxiety, Janus just took the phone from his hands and made him join the server. That way, he would have no other choice than at least say hi to everyone before panicking again. Which he did and immediately got overwhelmed by comments on his fan art. Soon, Virgil had grown comfortable with the discord server. After getting to know them, he could now, almost, confidently say that most of the people within it weren’t so bad. He would even dare to say that he was considering some of them his friends. Now, instead of spending sleepless nights, scrolling through Tumblr, he would spend them talking with the people within the server. Well, mostly three people within it. First of them was Patton. He had been quickly nicknamed the dad of the server. He was always there to remind everyone to eat, sleep and drink enough water during their day. He also seemed to be easily offended at the use of ‘’potty language’’, so Virgil did his best to not swear too much when he knew that the man was connected. Talking to him was always like snuggling up a blanket.

Second of them was Logan. When he wasn’t busy question the logic of the characters actions, he was always there to debate with Virgil about whatever subject he pleased. For Logan, the problem with the existence with Mothman wasn’t the fact that almost no one had ever seen him, but that he couldn’t understand how the DNA of a moth and a human could merge together to form a living breathing being. Talking to him was always a breath of fresh air.

Third of them was Roman. He… He had been hard to get along with at the start. Even if they had similar passions, they never seemed to see eye to eye on anything. They were always arguing in the server, only stopping because they didn’t want to hurt their friends. Well, this had been until Virgil had discovered that Remus was Roman’s twin brother. Then, they had seen eye to eye on at least one thing; that Remus could be a such a pain sometimes. After that, their arguing match had somehow turned into friendly debating where they could say to one another if the other had gone too far. Talking to him was always like walking on embers without getting burned.

So, when it had all gone downhill, he should have known that it would have been because of Remus.

Virgil’s first mistake was that he had been sitting in the living room of his, Janus’ and Remus’ apartment with his wireless headphones on.

His second mistake was that he had been listening to his music with the volume a little too high up, so he couldn’t hear Remus returning from his nightly shift at the small venue that he worked at. His third mistake was that he was grinning like an idiot while texting Roman, Logan and Patton. Well, Roman, Logan and Patton were talking in the vocal chat and, they were texting him at the same time. That had, on more than one occasion, told him that he was free to join them if he wanted to, but he had refused. He… didn’t want to break what they had established with each other. So, he had been texting them when a hand had suddenly grabbed his phone. He blinked and jerked his head up, squinting at Remus who was looking at him with a mischievous smile on his lips. He had barely time to notice that the music had stopped playing in his ears when a calm voice reached his ears: ‘’....Virgil?’’ The anxious man immediately squawked and jumped on Remus to try to reach his phone again. Remus, being the tallest out of the two of them, kept his phone out of reach while starting to laugh pretty loudly. The same voice that had spoken directly into his ears a couple of seconds ago spoke again, still in that calmed manner: ‘’Ah, it seems that Remus has decided to steal Virgil’s phone. Perhaps he hasn’t noticed that the vocal chat option has been turned on.’’ This comment only caused Virgil’s determination to grow bigger and bigger while another voice responded in a worried manner: ‘’Oh no, that’s terrible! I don’t want to hear my dark son’s voice if he doesn’t want us to hear it? Do you think we should leave the chat?’’ ‘’Don’t worry, padre! I’ll call Remus to tell him to knock it off!’’ Trying to not concentrate too much on guessing whose voice belonged to who, Virgil finally managed to grab his phone and ran off into his room. He knew Remus wouldn’t follow him there. They had established that no one could enter someone else’s room without being specifically told that they could at this exact moment and this was one of the rare rules that Remus wouldn’t break by respect for his other two roommates. Once safe, he sat on his bed and bit his lips. He could close the voice chat and confirm in the chat what had happened, or… He muted his microphone, still leaving his headphones working perfectly, before typing in the conversation: ‘’Sorry guys, Remus was being a dick again’’

A shocked gasp that clearly came from Patton resonated in his headphones. ‘’Virgil! You shouldn’t text such things!’’ ‘’Sorry, popstar, forgot’’

There was, again a small silence, before the same calm voice that spoke first was heard again: ‘’Are you sure that you want to stay in the Voice call? Not that I want to imply that I don’t want you here, because I do enjoy your company, but you seemed certain of your decision to not hearing us talk.’’

This was definitely Logan. There was a certain drawl to his voice that Virgil immediately associated with the way that Logan texted. Finally, the last voice spoke up in a loud manner that seemed to be a family thing with the Princes:

‘’Yeah, emo! I thought you were too scared to hear our voices and fall head over heels for us!’’ Virgil snorted a bit. ‘’I changed my mind.

Plus, y’all have really nice voices

Except Roman, who’s surprised?’’

There were some giggles and an immediate undignified squawk from Roman and suddenly, everything was back to normal. Except, maybe, for the fact that Virgil had now beautiful voices in his mind of each of his precious friend. It stayed like that for weeks. Virgil would come on the Voice chat, but would only respond by typing. Sure, sometimes, it could be inconvenient, but he didn’t want to speak out loud. After all, he still wasn’t a hundred percent sure if they would understand the way that he pronounced his vowels. Or how his th sometimes sounded like s or t. They all seemed to like him so much. He couldn’t ruin that by talking like an idiot.

He was sure that he had a pretty strong resolve, but slowly, small comments by small comments, his determination to stay quiet seemed to falter. Even if they didn’t seem to do that intentionally, but they would sometimes make comment about how they imagined what his voice sounded like from the very short sounds that they had heard him let out when Remus would sneak up on him, himself being in the voice chat to let them hear his voice. Patton had even once told him in private messages that if it was that he was uncomfortable because he didn’t want other people that he didn’t know that much to pop up while he was talking, they could always another server to help him feel safe. And after all that, and a lot of night rambling about it to Janus, he decided to talk in the VC. It wouldn’t kill him, right?

It was a pretty quiet night when he finally decided to put his plan in action. There weren’t a lot of people active on the server that night and Logan, Roman and Patton seemed to be the only one that were talking about something else than the blog, so no one would interrupt them. He took a bight breath, before pressing send on the message that had been waiting on his screen for about 30 minutes. ‘’I have made a decision guys. I’m gonna unmute tonight.’’

The few seconds before Roman finished saying what he was saying and, they went up to read what he had sent them felt like hours, but the excited squeals that Patton made after reading it suddenly made it feel like it was worth it. ‘’Are you sure, kiddo? We wouldn’t want to pressure you into anything that you don’t want.’’ ‘’Yeah, I’m sure’’ ‘’Well then…’’ There were a few seconds of silence before Patton, soon joined by Roman, started chanting: ‘’Unmute! Unmute! Unmute! Unmute!’’ ‘’Could you stop chanting this ridiculous thing? This is clearly stressful for Virgil, we wouldn’t want to put any more pressure on him.’’ The voices all went deadly silent as Virgil pressed a trembling finger on his screen to unmute his microphone. He bit his lips, not knowing what to say, after all those months of pure silence. ‘’Virgil, it is okay if you do not wish to speak. I understand that you are uncomfortable with that idea and if you wish for more time, we will gladly give it to you.’’ Virgil took a big breath before saying in a quiet voice: ‘’No, it’s okay.’’ There was a moment of quiet before a loud thump resonated from one of the boys’ microphone and, they heard Roman screaming, away from his mic but still very clearly: ‘’Holy fuck, I’m in love!’’ Patton laughed a bit. ‘’I wouldn’t have said it like this, kiddo, but I agree with you! You have such a pretty voice, Virgil!!’’ ‘’Ah yes, it is indeed, quite pleasing to hear your voice… Will you do us the honour of letting us hear it again?’’ And, it was with a face burning from embarrassment and a heart getting slowly bigger and bigger with joy and a feeling that he didn’t quite understand yet, that Virgil slowly created himself a new normal.

#ts patton #ts logan #ts roman #ts virgil #ts deceit #ts janus #ts remus

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princesscallyie · 6 years ago

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Drawing Tablet Broken: Art/Writing Hiatus and Donation Requests

So yeah, my Wacom Bamboo Create that I gotten 5 1/2 years ago as a high school grad present finally broke on me after a ton of watery ginger ale spilled on it. I opened it up and there was moisture and stickiness basically all in the insides so I have little hope of working again even after I blow dry it and let it air dry for a few days... but honestly? I’ve been kinda been wanting a new one for years anyway but haven’t had a justified reason for getting one until now lol. So I’m not totally bummed out (surprised it lasted this long), though it does have sentimental value since it was my first drawing tablet and my mom had to ask my grandma for help to pay for it.

But anyway, here’s the new one I want. It’s $180 on Amazon so it’ll take about two paychecks or two weeks to save up for it (I could actually just blow one whole paycheck on it but that’s kinda irresponsible lol) so they’re will be no new art/writing from me during that time (I mean like you guys would see any difference since I don’t draw all that much anyway and there’s no fics because I always draw covers for them and I don’t want to upload fics without covers). But I just wanted you guys to be aware of that in case you were wondering about when the 1st place winner prize pack will be out or anything else I draw/write.

But! If you really enjoy my work and want to see it sooner, I thought it’ll be fun to offer “donation requests” I’m not calling them commissions lol for people who donate $20 or more. Though I’m capping them at $100 so about 5 slots are available (less the more people donate). Since I’m not doing commissions ever again probably, this will be your last chance to get some personal art from me. Here’s what I’m offering for those:

$20: a sketch or two of whatever* (max 2 characters in a pic)

$50: a sketch or two of whatever* plus a full color pic (max 4 characters in a pic)

$100: damn, I might draw you a comic if you want or get a couple of sketches or full color pics of whatever* (max 4 characters in a pic)

So if this works out and people donate, I can most likely get my new tablet by Saturday (I get paid on thursday plus Amazon Prime two day shipping) but it’s not a big deal if no one donates since I can just buy it myself in two weeks, this is mostly an offer for my loyal ride-or- dies who want to support me.

Yeah, that’s all. On the bright side, I can practice some trad art or maybe make some non-art vids or something. Send me a note on dA or a DM on here if you’re interested in getting a request.

*this goes along with my old commission guidelines though now I won’t draw ns/fw

#donation post #drawing requests #callyie chat

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deathishauntedbyhumans · 7 years ago

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The Colour of You

Stranger: [Soulmate AU: You see color when you make eye contact with your soulmate. Please reply as anyone who's trying to set Keith up with Lance.] For the last time, I'm done with all these blind dates. None of them ever work out and I'm getting sick of all the rejection. -K

You: You keep saying that, but you always show up to them. Don't you think you can skip the dramatics this time and just go meet the guy? P I seriously think this is going to work out this time. P

Stranger: Because you call Shiro and literally make him drag me out of my house. -K Doubtful. -K

You: You can't blame me for having methods. P Stop being so negative. It might work. You don't know. P

Stranger: Yeah yeah, whatever. -K If it hasn't worked the past twelve times it won't now. -K

You: You have to meet your soulmate sometime, Keith. P

Stranger: Which isn't going to happen, I probably don't even have one. -K

You: Of course you have one. P I swear to god, I will drag you out of the house myself this time. I won't even call Shiro. P

Stranger: I'm not going Pidge and that's final. I have comics to finish, I don't have time for this. -K

You: Then I'll send him to your house. P

Stranger: If he comes I'm calling the cops. -K

Stranger: I'm not interested Pidge. -K

You: You wouldn't call the cops. Shiro would kill you. P I know you want to find your SM. Stop whining about it and let me help you. P

Stranger: He'd probably be the cop who shows up honestly. -K You've tried helping but nothing works, maybe I need to stop pushing it or something. -K

You: He's really excited to meet you, Keith. I've been talking you up to him for weeks. P

Stranger: [...] Let me guess you buttered me up so I don't sound like a cosplaying hermit who does costume commissions and art online and never leaves the house unless I need to run errands? -K

You: Actually, no. P For once, I think I actually managed to find someone as geeky as you are. He's in that art class I didn't want to take, and he actually makes it bearable because all he does it mumble stupid shit under his breath while the professor drones. AND the only thing he draws is fanart. He's not professional, but he's good at copying styles. I've seen some of the stuff he works on, which is why I mentioned you in the first place. P

Stranger: Huh. Is that so? -K

You: Yes. Now would you please get your head out of your ass and meet him? P

Stranger: [...] Maybe the next time I'm in town. -K

You: You're out of town? P

Stranger: No I'm at home. -K

Stranger: But I don't really have a reason to walk into town right now, so I'm staying home. -K

You: You HAVE a reason. His name is Lance, he draws anime like a nerd, and he WANTS to meet you. P

Stranger: [Long Delay] Where does he want to meet? -K

You: I told him you'd meet him for coffee at Red Lion. P

Stranger: What time? -K

You: In an hour. P

Stranger: Ugh... Fine.. I'll fucking be there. -K

You: I knew you would. Name your kids after me when it works out ;) P

Stranger: Only because Hunk is blowing my phone up. -K

You: You needed the push. P

Stranger: *middle finger emoji* -K

You: Oh, you know you love me. P Have fun on your date ;) P

Stranger: Shut up. -K

Stranger: A few minutes before they were supposed to meet up Keith walked into the cafe wearing a beanie over his long hair, torn up jean shorts, and an old shirt he bought in a thrift shop. With his messenger bag on his shoulder Keith looked around, visibly nervous before deciding to get himself a drink. Thinking back on it now, he probably should have asked what this guy looked like...

You: For what felt like the hundredth time, Lance pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, staring down at the text he'd received from Pidge with the location of the place he was supposed to meet Keith. Keith, who Pidge hadn't stopped talking to him about for the past month. Keith, who... Lance may or may not have had a teensy little crush on, just from the lengthy descriptions from Pidge. Oh, god, he was nervous. He was so nervous. He took a deep breath and pocketed his phone once more, staring out the windshield of his car. And then, the alarm on his phone went off, and he startled violently before laughing at himself nervously and locking the phone a second time, turning the alarm off. He exited the car and locked the door, huffing out a breath as he stepped into the cafe. It was a small place; he'd never been before, but Pidge had mentioned that it was one of Keith's favourite places around, so Lance was more than willing to try it. It wasn't incredibly crowded, but most of the tables had at least one person sitting at them as he gazed curiously around the establishment upon entering.

Stranger: While waiting for his drink to be made Keith found himself a small corner booth to set up in, putting his tablet up and laying a large sketch book close to him, his backpack sitting on the table decorated with all kinds of buttons- comics, anime, cartoons, fashion- you name it. Five minutes after three the barista stepped forward and put down a large frappe on the bar calling out the name Keith, which caught the artist's attention. He stood up and walked over, unaware Lance had entered the building as he grabbed his drink, leaving two dollars in the tip jar as he always did. He grabbed himself a straw before heading back to his seat, getting comfortable once more. Keith looked at the time and frowned, glancing around. Maybe he was being stood up..?

You: The sound of the barista calling out a name got Lance's attention out of habit, and he glanced towards the counter automatically, brain slowly processing the name that had been said. And then... Oh. Oh god. Keith. She'd said Keith, and that... Fuck. Holy /shit/, that was Keith. It had to be. Lance couldn't help staring at Keith as he got his drink, couldn't help the way his eyes went wide because /shit/, pictures of him and descriptions of him didn't do him justice. Keith was /hot/. Too hot. It was a little unfair. Lance only stopped staring when he felt someone bump into him from behind, and he realised that he'd stopped just inside the doorway. His face went red as he apologised to the stranger; he was certain that it had already been flushed at the sight of Keith across the room, but that wasn't important. He steeled himself, running a nervous hand through his hair and glancing down at himself before deciding that, yes, this was really happening, and making his way across the room. "...Keith?" he said as he approached the table Keith had sat down at. "I, uh... I'm Lance. Pidge wanted to... set us up?"

Stranger: Keith was sketching when he heard his name being called again, absentmindedly rubbing the scar that was on his right cheek while observing the 3D model on his tablet. "Yeah?" Keith looked up when he heard the other begin to explain himself, looking into his eyes, "Oh. Yeah, she mentioned-..." Keith slowly stopped speaking as color came into Lance's eyes before it began spreading across the entire room slowly, as if not to overwhelm Keith. This.. soulmate.. Pidge had actually.. found his soulmate..?

Stranger: [brb real quick]

Stranger: [back]

You: Lance grinned --albeit a little awkwardly-- as Keith looked up at him, but the grin dropped very quickly into a look of absolute awe as their eyes met. He'd heard of colour before; he'd heard of first meetings being magical, incredible, amazing things. But he'd never actually even been able to imagine what it would be like. He was staring at Keith again, but this time, he could /see/ him. His eyes were a brilliant colour, so blue they were nearly violet, and his jacket was... /red/, and... "Oh my god," he whispered, head whipping about as he registered what was happening before he situated his gaze back on Keith's face. He dropped into the booth, right across from Keith, careful not to hit anything on the table on the way down but unable to stand any longer. "Oh my god," he whispered again. "Holy shit. Do you... Do you see it too?"

Stranger: Keith nodded as he looked around, in awe of what he saw. He never knew there were so many shades of color in the world... Now he understood why Shiro wanted him to find his soulmate, this feeling.. the warmth in his chest, the colors in the room.. were /magical/. "... Yeah.. I- I see it too.." He informed, looking back to Lance as he gulped.

You: "You're my soulmate," Lance whispered reverently. He honestly hadn't known what to expect, coming here. Sure, he'd already had it bad for Keith, but he'd had crushes before, and /they'd/ never turned out very well. This... This was something entirely new. And it felt /incredible/. He had no idea what he was supposed to do, but it was hard to contain the glowing feeling in his chest. His hands fluttered for a moment in front of him before he dropped them onto the table, just in front of where Keith's array of admittedly-interesting objects stopped. "I can't believe it."

Stranger: "Neither can I.. Ugh, Pidge is never going to leave me alone when she finds out she was right.." He groaned, hesitating before putting his sketchbook and tablet away, resting his backpack n his lap. "... So.. soulmates.. Uh.. I don't.. know what to say..?"

You: There was absolutely nothing that was going to stop Lance from just /looking/ at Keith. The world could have ended right then and there, and Lance wouldn't have noticed or cared, because Keith was /gorgeous/. His hair was a deep ebony-black, rich and dark where it was peeking out from underneath the beanie on top of his head. His skin was pale beneath it, and his eyes... Fuck, Lance was going to be dreaming about those eyes for a long, long time. At the mention of Pidge, Lance made a mental note to send her a thank you card. Or a fruitbasket. Or... something else she would actually like. Maybe a new phone case? It didn't matter right then. What mattered was /Keith/. "I... don't, either. What do you say when you find the one person who was made to complete you, man?" He felt himself flush and rubbed his hands over his face briefly. "Oh, god. That was stupid. Sorry. I'm... not very good at talking. Actually, scratch that. Everyone always says that I'm too good at talking, because I don't know how to shut up." He dropped his hands again. "I just never know what to say, so I end up rambling... like I'm doing right now. Oh, god. Please just pretend I stopped talking, like... when I started."

Stranger: "I didn't think you actually existed." Keith stated bluntly at the first question, looking to the side and rubbing the long scar on his face, "... If it makes you feel better I'm shit at talking, so.. I usually just don't." He informed with a sigh, glancing to Lance, looking him over. He was pretty cute, hot too.. Tall and slim with bright blue eyes that Keith would try to find the perfect shade for so he could use in a future for a commission, messy brown hair that was somewhat styled.. But he had good fashion sense- much better than Keith that's for sure. "Relax, it's fine.. I don't know what to say either..."

You: It hadn't really been something that Lance had been drawn to look at immediately, but he did find his attention pulled to the scar on Keith's face when the other brought a hand up to brush against it. It seemed like a subconscious move, either to hide the scar or just to feel it, but either way... Lance couldn't help but wonder how he'd gotten it. He bit his lip against the question. Later. They would... Oh, god. They would have plenty of time for that later. For questions, and for answers, and for... learning about each other. "I'm pretty sure I exist," he stated, going for an easy smile. He was pretty sure he missed it by a mile, but hey. He was /nervous/. "You, um... Oh, god. Okay. I know we just met, and found out we're soulmates and everything, but..." He blew out a harsh breath, making a "hhh" sound. "I've literally been thinking about meeting you since Pidge showed me a picture of you for the first time, and just..." He made the sound again before planting his elbows on the table and dropping his face into his hands to hide what he knew must be a spectacular blush. "You're even more attractive in person and it's throwing me off, man. Especially in colour." He groaned, everything coming out just a tad muffled through his fingers.

Stranger: Keith's entire face turned red as Lance spoke, the male sputtering before turning to look away, pulling his beanie down in an attempt to hide how flustered he was. "I.. I'm not that attractive, that's you.. I'm just.." Keith struggled to find the words, biting his lower lip, "I'm just.. me.. you're really attractive though, pleasing to the eye to look at." He stated bluntly, the flush spreading to his ears as he spoke, the man still scratching at his facial scar.

Stranger: [brb again, sorry]

You: ((No worries!))

You: Lance couldn't help himself; even though he was embarrassed, he couldn't keep his gaze off of Keith for more than a few seconds at a time, it seemed. He looked up again to find Keith blushing, and oh /god/ the pink tinge to his pale cheeks was a sight to behold. As Keith's compliment sunk in he giggled --giggled! fuck!-- and then, before he could think better of it, he was reaching across the table and gently placing a hand on Keith's wrist to stop him from scratching at his face. "I think you're really, really good-looking," he told him honestly, fervently, even though it made him flush again to say it. "Like, seriously. You're probably the most attractive person in town. Maybe even in the world. Or the universe. Probably all of those." He was rambling again, but damn if he could help it. Keith's wrist was warm beneath his hand, and... They were /touching/ now and that glowing feeling in his chest only felt more like it was going to burst out any second.

Stranger: Keith gulped, looking down at their hands before pulling his hand away. The purple eyed man removed his leather glove before reaching out, hand shaking slightly as he laced their fingers together, their palms touching. "..." He licked his lips, keeping an eye on their hands as he felt Lance's warm skin against his cold skin, ".. I think you're biased Mr. Lance Soulmate..." He teased quietly, looking up at him as he bit his lower lip, still holding his hand on the table. "You're the attractive one and that's fucking that.. Okay?"

You: For a split second, Lance was afraid that he'd overstepped some invisible boundary when Keith pulled his hand away. He was just getting ready to stammer out an apology when Keith reached out again, and anything that Lance was going to say was lost in a haze of "Oh my god he's holding my hand he's /holding my hand/ and it feels so nice." And then Keith was /teasing him/, and Lance was pretty sure he was going to melt into the floor because the little mischievous glint in his eye was the cutest fucking thing he'd ever seen in his entire life. "Why can't we both be attractive?" he somehow managed to get out, trying for a cocky grin that he was moderately sure actually looked right. His gaze was still on Keith's, though, and the awe in his eyes hadn't diminished one bit.

Stranger: The flush in his cheeks turned almost a dark red when Lance gave that smirk, stirring his insides. God he was so fucking gay... "... Good point." He borderline squeaked. That.. that was sinful. He could be adorable then /hot/? Shit.. He was so gay it wasn't even funny...

You: Oh, man. That was... Keith was literally the actual cutest thing Lance had ever seen in his life, and it was going to kill him. He was pretty sure his heart was going to jump out of his chest, it was beating so quickly. "I try," he said through a laugh, squeezing Keith's hand gently. The grin softened to a genuine happy smile as he calmed again, the laughter fading. "You're my soulmate," he stated softly, holding on just a little more tightly to Keith's hand. "I'm so lucky."

Stranger: Keith couldn't help but laugh as Lance spoke in awe, squeezing his hand gently, "... So.. besides doing fanart in college what do you do?" Keith asked after a few seconds, stroking Lance's thumb with his own, focused on Lance's face. "Pidge didn't tell me a lot about you besides you two being in art class together..."

You: "She didn't tell you anything?" Lance asked, blinking. Okay, he and Pidge /seriously/ needed to have a conversation, because he was pretty sure he knew Keith's entire goddamn life story at this point. (That was a lie, but... he knew a fair bit about him, thanks to her incessant chatter over the past few weeks of class.) "Wow. Okay. Um..." He looked down at their conjoined hands, momentarily distracted by the gentle motion of Keith's thumb against his own. "I'm not as cool as you, that's for sure. I'm... really not that interesting, actually." No wonder Pidge hadn't told him anything. "I'm a Theatre Arts major with a background in Psychology... Long story. Not that interesting," he added with a sheepish smile. "But I work at a pet store to pay the bills. It's not great, but it's... y'know. Work." He shrugged a little. "Like I said. I'm just... me. Not that interesting."

Stranger: Keith hummed, "That's pretty neat, I couldn't do theater, camera and stage shy." He informed quietly, squeezing Lance's hand gently, "... Do you actually like animals, or is it just a job that pays for you?" Keith asked, finding himself fiddling with Lance's fingers absentmindedly, since he wasn't holding his usual fidget cube.

You: Once again, Lance found himself drawn to watch Keith's fingers play against his own. It was rather endearing to watch, actually, as he fiddled gently with the digits he was holding. "Oh, I love animals," he assured Keith, looking up at his face again to answer the question. "That was how I got the job in the first place, actually. I went in to get food for my cat, and I ended up in the little room they have with kittens, helping one of the people that worked there originally put them away because they were all being... well, kittens." He laughed, shaking his head. "And then they told me to apply, because they could use a 'cat wrangler' like me," he recalled. "It's not a bad gig. I didn't know anything about anything other than cats when I first started, but I know a ton now about all sorts of animals, so it's been neat."

Stranger: Keith grabbed his phone from his bag and tapped the screen a few times, looking through his photos before clicking on one. "I have a cat too." He informed as he showed a picture of his light orange cat, who was laying up in a homemade cat tower napping. "Her name's Socks."

You: Lance let out a soft gasp when Keith pulled up the photo, gently placing his hands around Keith's and tilting the phone so that he could better see the screen. "Oh, my god. She's so precious?!" He looked from the photograph to Keith, grinning. "She's adorable. Hang on, I think I have..." He trailed off, tugging his own phone out and scrolling through it for a second before tapping on a photograph and pulling up a picture of a small grey ball of fuzz curled up in a patch of sunlight on a carpeted floor. "This is my baby," he said proudly. "Zuli's a sweetheart... Unless she gets catnip. Then she's a demon. But I love her anyways."

Stranger: Keith got off his chair a little bit to lean forward, tilting the phone so he could see better. "... She's cute, looks really young." He hummed, sitting back in his chair, refusing to let go of Lance's hand. "I remember when Socks was that small, though it wasn't all that long ago, she's not even two yet."

You: Lance clicked the lock button automatically and set his phone face-down on the table in front of him. "Yeah. She's almost a year, now, I think?" He crinkled his nose a little in thought and then nodded decisively. "Yeah. Ten months or so, I wanna say. I can't wait until she grows out of her troublemaking phase. If... she grows out of it. Does Socks still knock things off of shelves just for the hell of it?" he asked, laughing good-naturedly.

Stranger: "... Usually just her toys or nonbreakable objects." Keith informed with a hum, "She thankfully doesn't do it really often, mostly if she wants attention and I've absorbed myself in my work."

You: Lance nodded sagely. "She could teach Zuli a lesson, then," he said. "I mean, to be fair, I'm pretty sure she thinks that everything that she can reach is a toy made just for her, so it might be a moot point," he added, squeezing Keith's hand again. It was... really easy to talk to him. The conversation felt natural, and holding his hand... It all just felt /right/.

Stranger: "Look into training her a bit, that's probably the best idea. Whenever Socks would knock something off I'd spray her in the face with some water." He informed, "It didn't take her too long before she learned that wasn't something to do and stopped."

You: "She /likes/ water," Lance said with a groan, shaking his head and then dropping it down to the table briefly, bumping his forehead against their entwined fingers. "Believe me, I've tried the spray-bottle. She thinks it's a game. Little weirdo," he added affectionately. "It's mostly alright. She doesn't usually knock expensive stuff down... Just crystals off my windowsill, mostly."

Stranger: Keith laughed quietly, hesitating before letting his hand go in favor of pushing Lance's bangs from his face, "That's a little odd.. hm.. I don't know then.." He murmured, resting his head on his other hand, watching Keith with a small, tender smile on his face, "Hm? Crystals?"

You: Lance felt his face heat under Keith's touch, but he leaned into the hand brushing his forehead with a soft smile. "Oh, y'know, like... Rocks with healing properties and stuff?" He sat up again and almost immediately snuck his hand back into Keith's, lacing their fingers together once more. "Quartz, Tiger's Eye, Malachite... My older sister got me into it. She's really into the whole... Aura, Crystal, Energy thing, and she turned me onto it. I wasn't sure about it at first, but it actually kinda helps." He dug in his front pocket with his free hand for a second before coming up with a black rock, smooth, shiny and shaped into a circle. "Here, see? This is Hematite. It helps with stress," he stated, holding it out for Keith to take.

Stranger: "... Oh, I've heard a little about that.. Hunk's mentioned it to me a few times I think when he came over to make sure I wasn't dead." Keith hummed, smiling as their fingers were laced back together. ".. That's neat.. Maybe you could teach me more sometime." He requested, reaching out to touch the rock but not taking it. He had no place to put it where it wouldn't get lost after all.

You: "I'd like that," Lance said with a soft, pleased smile, placing the rock on top of his phone and then returning his full attention to Keith in front of him. "It's really kinda cool. Every rock has different properties, and helps with different things." It took him a second to take stock of the rest of what Keith had said, and then, Lance's eyes widened. "Wait. Hunk. You know /Hunk/?" He cocked his head to the side. "How do you know Hunk?"

#klance #klance rp #klance roleplay #voltron rp #voltron roleplay #my rp #omegling #roleplay #fandom rp #fandom roleplay

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scrawnydutchman · 4 years ago

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My Animation Journey: Thomas van Kampen

Hey everyone! It’s been a VERY long time since I updated my blog, huh?

So for this post I thought I would do something a little different. For those who don’t know, I’m a professional animator. I have been for about two years now. I’ve worked on shows like Trailer Park Boys: The Animated Series, Care Bears: Unlock the Magic and Curious George. I’ve also been a part of a few other projects before that like the crowdfunded feature film Dawgtown. Reason I bring all of this up is I figured it might be helpful to some folks if they knew how exactly I got to this position. Nowadays it feels like if you throw a rock you’ll more than likely hit an aspiring professional artist, but for as many as there may be a lot of them aren’t actually sure if they can make it due to a number of doubts. Maybe they can’t afford schooling. Maybe they aren’t in a region where the industry is prominent. Maybe they just don’t know what they have to do to get studio attention. I personally feel that the story of how I broke in to the industry is pretty unique so my hope is that reading it might help many an aspiring artist gain confidence and maybe even fill in the blanks for their own story. So without further ado, let’s start at the beginning.

Part 1: The Beginning

My entire life I’ve always been a storyteller. When I was in elementary school I used to make little comic books out of stapled pieces of printer paper and hand them out to my classmates. In high school I wrote a 100 page fantasy novel and wrote/directed a play in drama class. My grades were never all that good, but I always scored high in art and creative writing projects. Here’s a comedy skit I put together back in high school with my friends (warning: incoming cringe):

youtube

As a testament to my love for storytelling, I thought for a very long time my destiny lied in live action film making. But that didn’t exactly pan out the way I hoped. For one, I was rejected from my nearby institute’s video production course 3 times. For another, I didn’t exactly have all the skills necessary to direct a production involving multiple people. Film proved to be a difficult path for me because I couldn’t work around peoples’ schedules and I couldn’t find the locations I wanted for the types of stories I wanted to tell. Best I could ever do was comedy skits. All this compounded failure left me drifting for a little while after high school.

But then, on my 18th birthday, my dad pulled me aside to give me a proposal. He said that since 18 is such a milestone, he and my mom wanted to do something extra special for my gift. He told me I have two options: I can either get $100 dollars to spend on whatever I want . . . or, if I had something in mind for starting a career, he would spend as high as $800.

Obviously I wanted to take the latter. But I wasn’t sure what to do. Film wasn’t panning out. My mom and dad at the time tried to pressure me into app development and computer coding because they seemed like safe ventures, but I couldn’t entertain something like that. Whatever it is I chose, it had to allow me to tell the stories that I wanted to tell.

Then, it hit me. I suddenly remembered hearing about this animation program called “Toon Boom” back in high school comm tech. So I thought “why don’t I do animation?”. After all, I could already draw. Plus, with animation you don’t have ANY of the limitations of live action. You can create anything you can imagine with animation and you can make everything yourself from the comfort of your room. I knew it was going to be a time consuming thing, but after a bit of soul searching I knew this is what I wanted for myself. So I told my dad about it and he managed to find a student copy of toon boom animate for cheap on Ebay (back when it didn’t go by Harmony). So I got that for my birthday and got to work. I still have my very first cartoon here:

youtube

Oh yeah, it’s awful. I had a VERY rudimentary understanding of how animation worked. I drew everything haphazardly with my mouse. I didn’t know how to use motion tweens all that well so in some places I just copy pasted assets and rotated the drawings slightly. I stole copyrighted music (which miraculously I haven’t been caught for yet). I recorded the dialogue on my phone. Worst of all, I didn’t even know how to properly compress my video. Believe it or not, this took me a month and a half to make.

But you know what? Everyone I knew loved it. My feed blew up and everyone made a point to tell me how funny they thought it was. I remember my dad saying “toon boom seems like a good investment!” Needless to say, the positive reinforcement was very encouraging.

I’m hoping the takeaway here is two things:

1. Knowing what you want in life is a deep, soul searching process, but once you find it, committing to it isn’t all that hard, even if it’s tedious as hell.

2. The best way to get started in anything is to just, well . . . get started. Make something. ANYTHING. even if it’s not that great. For as poorly as this cartoon has aged, it resulted in me getting my very first commission from my brother where he asked me to make a music video for his band. It also resulted in me getting a drawing tablet for Christmas later that year. Even bad content is better than having nothing in your repertoire at all. Try getting your ideas out no matter what.

This boost in confidence eventually resulted in me going for making long form content. I wrote, animated, edited, voice acted and directed TWO episodes of a show featuring the character you see in my very first cartoon. The first episode took me half a year to create and the second took me a WHOLE YEAR. But you know what? I was showing clear signs of improving all the way.

Here are the episodes:

youtube

Part 2: Making connections

So at this point, my motivation to break my way into the arts was in full throttle. I was SURE that animation is what I wanted to do in life. Making little shorts was cool and all, but I still needed to learn how to get professional attention. So there’s a number of things I did:

For starters, I needed to know what employers were looking for when I apply for a job. I remember way back, around the time i was halfway through making episode 2 of the Peacock, I was talking to a friend of my brother’s at his birthday party. I told him I wanted to pursue animation professionally (I believe this was after we were talking about the music video I made for my brother) and he said that he knew a guy in Vancouver who was doing 3D animation. I asked for his name and then later that night looked him up on Facebook. Once I was sure I was talking to the right guy, I wrote him a lengthy message about how much breaking into animation would mean to me. He told me that he was visiting my home town for a little while anyway and he generously donated his time to answer my questions about the industry over coffee. He told me all about demo reels and how I would need to structure it and what kind of knowledge that studios were looking for and all that type of stuff. I was also recommended to talk to another professional in my home town and she told me to get started on a portfolio website. So I took everything they were telling me and started applying it.

my niece told me about this organization in my hometown that she found out about through the grapevine. This place called the “Quickdraw Animation Society”. It was this organization dedicated to helping local artists find their voice and gain the skills necessary to make their own animated films. I thought this was perfect!! College was sort of off the table for me since my dad highly encouraged getting an education at this trade school and he told me he wouldn’t pay for an education that didn’t guarantee a job at the end (and looking back knowing the kind of debt i could have fallen into, I kind of side with him on that one). But Quickdraw was offering animation courses for cheap! Even i could afford it on my part time retail salary! So I took Quickdraw’s classes and used them as a vehicle to start making even more of my own projects.

Here’s just one of several short animations I made while studying under Quickdraw:

youtube

But my involvement with Quickdraw didn’t stop there. I made a point to volunteer for them in their move and their fundraising efforts and their little animation showcases. I made a point to REALLY get involved with their community. That ended up being arguably the most instrumental decision in my career. After a while I got done making my very first Demo Reel. I was ready to start officially applying for jobs:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fx5OHGfYz-4

I know this reel doesn’t seem like much, but believe it or not, with the help of the Quickdraw Animation Society, this reel ended up getting me my first two major animation gigs.

The takeaway here is: get involved with a community. Reach out to people. Get yourself out there. Don’t be afraid to ask professionals questions and accept that a lot of this is going to involve relying on the kindness of strangers. Nobody gets anywhere without somebody helping them.

Part 3: Thomas the Freelancer

After I completed my very first demo reel, as fate would have it Quickdraw began emailing me among others about new job opportunities popping up. The first time they informed me of a job post, it was somebody looking for an artist to create animated backgrounds for a stage play performance of “Curious George”. I was among the very first to send my application and this was the very first time I used my demo reel to try and land a job. The next day, their recruiter contacted me on the phone and started with “thank you for including a demo reel instead of putting the illness on me to track down your work like other applicants”. See how important a demo reel is? I ended up creating every background for every scene of that play, which was projected onto the screen behind the performers as they did their thing.

After that, Quickdraw informed me of ANOTHER job post. This time it was a children’s book author in Edmonton looking for an animator to help her win an animated film pitch contest. The winners of this contest would get a grant of $10,000 to create their animated short which would then be featured on Telus’ Storyhive platform. I sent her my demo reel and she brought me on to help put together the assets we needed to make the cut. And guess what? We were among the few who were selected to earn the $10,000. This resulted in me flying for the VERY FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE to Vancouver, where we would attend a workshop detailing the conditions of the contest. I also happened to meet even more animation friends on the plane (they were sitting right across from me and were other winners of the Storyhive competition).

In the following months I would dedicate almost ALL my free time to this short film. I even quit my part time job so i could commit to it full time (a decision my dad was thrilled about, I’m sure). I did all the storyboarding, background design, character design and animation BY MYSELF. If anything in the development cycle was visual related, I was the guy that did it, taking notes from my directors all along the way. In hindsight, I definitely should have asked for more help since the final product has a few flaws, but this is still a milestone achievement in my career.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmTuwIeEoqA

At this point, I had somewhat made a name for myself. I had credentials. I had recommendations from clients. Gerry Mouse would go on to be featured in multiple film festivals: My film festival debut in fact. As you can imagine, my ego was at an all time high. After the film released I updated my demo reel again and felt like I was ready to officially start applying for full time studio work in the industry.

As I would come to find . . . it wouldn’t be that easy.

Part 4: The Dry Spell

Gerry Mouse was the last big success of mine for quite some time. What followed was an entire year of doing ‘freelance work’ . . . .which is a polite way of saying I was mostly unemployed with only a few small gigs inbetween. I was relentlessly applying for studios all over Canada, hoping SOMEBODY would give me the time of day. In some places, a few studios even offered me the chance to do a test . . . but due to circumstances that I’m honestly embarrassed about in retrospect, I either failed them or couldn’t complete them at all. My dad eventually started pressuring me to get any kind of employment I could get my hands on, but even trying to find work in low requirement fields was proving to be fruitless. I was getting depressed, which was compounded on by the fact that I had gone through a hard break up around that time as well. it wasn’t ALL bad though. Around that time I made another short film called “A Lovely Stroll”, which would later be featured in both the Florida Animation Festival AND the Open World Animation Festival (which is kind of like my debut as a writer and director, not just the crews animation lead).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=afN2v3pBiqQ

It was also around this time where I got a month long remote gig from a studio in Toronto that was . . . honestly? Best paying gig I ever got to this day. It’s too bad that never amounted to anything bigger. I also started doing a wee bit of animation for Dawgtown too, but that eventually ran dry due to production complications. The bulk of that time was just spent by me being depressed and uncertain about the future, earning what ever money I could with small commissions here and there.

Then, within my endless pushing of applications hoping for any studio in all of Canada to notice me, I happened to send an application to Copernicus Studios in Halifax, Nova Scotia. The human resources department responded to my application saying that they weren’t hiring at the time, but they were gearing up to recruit for something that summer and may contact me again with the opportunity to do a test months down the line.

And that’s exactly what they did.

When I received the animation test from Copernicus, I was more determined than ever. I was going to dedicate as much time as I possibly could to making this test look the best it could be. I remember spending VERY late nights being very paranoid about every little detail and frantically looking up whatever I didn’t know about Toon Boom at the time. After I submitted my test, I was counting down the days for their response.

They got back to me in a reasonable amount of time and asked if I would be interested in a video interview. I was freaking out and wanted to make ABSOLUTELY sure I could impress. I cleaned up as well as I could and made sure to answer all their questions honestly and concisely.

And then . . . they officially offered me a role on the production. You can’t imagine the rush of joy that went through me when I first read that email. After years of grinding and twiddling my thumbs I finally broke my glass ceiling. The idea of a random kid from Alberta breaking into a niche industry like that with no college education was unheard of. They told me in the video interview that the contract was for a Netflix animated adaptation of a classic adult Canadian sitcom. At the time I thought it was going to be Corner Gas. It turned out to be Trailer Park Boys. Once we got the news, I celebrated with all my family and friends and my dad and I planned my move to Halifax; a city on the complete opposite side of the country.

This next bit has nothing to do with the animation stuff, I just think it’s an interesting tidbit to share:

At first, my dad and I were struggling to find a place for me to live in the city. The problem was that my new contract wanted me to start in late May, but every lease of every apartment naturally wants you to start living there the first of the month. But, the biggest stroke of luck in the universe would happen to me. My dad happened to call one apartment’s office and explained to them what my situation was and they said

“funny you should mention that . . .I have two tenants here in my office RIGHT NOW that are looking for somebody to sublease for them and they need to be moved out by May 25th. If Tom subleases for them he can be in there before June no problem.”

WHAT. ARE. THE. CHANCES. OF. THAT??????

My apartment’s previous tenants were super nice too. for a thousand dollars they gave me their double sized bed, their microwave, their working desk, their couch, their vacuum cleaner and a bunch of other things to help me get started. They also went out of their way to get me nice things like a laundry card with $20 on it, a map of Halifax, a cupboard stocked up with insta-noodles, some cheap cutlery and bowls. . . . they went super out of their way to be nice to me on my first move and I’ll never forget that.

At the time I thought a stroke of luck like that was a sign from God that I was pursuing my destiny. To this day I think that still might be true. My takeaway here is don’t give up no matter what. Even if things seem uncertain at times, perseverance and tenacity will pay off in the end.

So with that, I said goodbye to my family and friends and moved to Halifax to begin my adult life as a full time PROFESSIONAL animator. I felt like I could take on anything.

And that . . . wasn’t 100% true.

Part 5: Growing Pains

I was very excited to work on my first studio production in house and it was through this contract that I met some of my closest friends ever. I learned more about toon boom and animation in 3 months than I did in 3 years of freelancing. But it wasn’t all fun and games. In fact, a lot of it was VERY VERY stressful and I ended up making more mistakes than I care to admit. In retrospect it’s easy to forgive myself because that’s just what happens when you’re that green, especially with a journey as unorthodox as mine, but at the time I did NOT take it well at ALL. See, at this point I was 100% motivated to be the best artist I could possibly be. As far as I was concerned not much else in life mattered that much. And that made me toxic. I had a hard time emotionally with taking criticism for my work. I started getting argumentative with my friends. I overworked myself. I tried to have a sense of humor for my problems but the self deprecating jokes only made me feel worse. What followed was nearly 2 years of feeling what the industry pros call “imposter syndrome”. I had it BAD. But luckily, I get by with a little help from my friends. I started opening up about what I was going through and luckily the people around me have been very reassuring about my right to be where I am. But the feelings of inadequacy DID end up leaving a dent in my work at the time and by the time Copernicus was recruiting for another toon boom show, I was not one of the few selected. But there WAS an alternative. They had just opened up some positions for their flash show (which was Care Bears: Unlock the Magic). They gave me the opportunity to do the flash test and I accepted. At the time I didn’t know very much about Flash . . . like, at all . . . but I sat down to learn as much about it as I could in the week that I had and I had done JUST well enough on the test to get myself another contract. From then on I spent nearly a year mastering Flash. Then, I was eventually brought on to Curious George to help on shadows and revisions. Then, shortly after, Copernicus asked me if I’d be interested in doing the builds test. I said yes, learned a bunch of stuff on the fly and got that job too. That’s what I’m doing right now.

The takeaway here is more an important lesson for when you DO make it rather than your journey to that point. When you break into the industry, you’re going to be met with a LOT of challenges. this industry is highly competitive and highly demanding. It’s not enough to be a skilled artist; you also have to have the grit to be a dependable team member. Matter of fact, at a time when my skill wasn’t cutting it, my grit was what helped keep me from washing out. And also, don’t be afraid to try new things. In an industry as volatile as animation being a jack of all trades is a HUGE selling point.

My advice is stay determined and, more importantly . . .try not to let failure get to your heart. keep your head up, allow yourself to heal, and forgive your mistakes. You’re not always going to stick the landing, but that’s okay. If you stick with it, you’ll still come out of that situation with more than when you entered.

Conclusion:

So why did I share all of this? I shared it because I know a lot of young, aspiring artists out there are uncertain about their future. I know you might feel like you can’t do it because you don’t know everything or you don’t have all the right credentials or you might screw things up if you try. I want you to listen to your heart and pursue what you want anyway. If I can make it, you can too. And take pride in the story of your journey. If you succeed, even given your circumstances, your story will be valuable in a way that mine couldn’t possibly be. I know a lot of my success has to deal with inordinate luck and I will forever be grateful for that, but I will always be just as grateful that I had the fortitude for when times were at their toughest. Go out there. Make what you want to make. Do whatever you can to learn the basics even if you can’t go to college. Ask for help. Get as involved with a community as you can. Whatever you start, stick with it. Be patient. Embrace challenge. Take those leaps of faith. Finally . . . forgive yourself for the times that you fail.

To finish off this post, here is a montage representing my animation journey from 2014-2020. Best of luck, all you artists out there

https://www.facebook.com/tom.vankampen/posts/10221173577866185

#animation #2dart #2d animation #toonboom #cartoon #career advice

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