#doodle during a semi art block

[jackcryptid]

This is your (un)friendly reminder that Snape wanted to die after Lily's passing :D

[codyfernmorelikedaddyfern]

Medicine - Jim x fem!reader // Part One

I’m doing this guys.

Multi part fanfiction on Jim losely inspired by multiple songs on my playlist. The whole thing is following Medicine by The 1975 but each chapters will have a different theme within it besides this one because it’s mainly exposition.

Description: In a desperate attempt to “make things work” in a marriage already shattered a decade ago, (Y/N)’s parents move in Palos Verde where she meets Medina, a newfound hermit like her.

Warnings: mention of dysfunctional/toxic relationships, alcohol and drug abuse.

Word counts: 1.6k+

She hated being the new kid in town. She hated the attention it brought to her as she wandered the confusing halls of her new school. She hated the eyes glued to her as she sat alone at her table at lunch. She hated having to introduce herself over and over again to her classmates. She hated the spotlight and the stares.

Her gentle footsteps carried her to the lockers, looking down at the 93 scribbled on her palm, scanning the metal doors and looking for the number she had been assigned to in the ocean of students pacing up and down the hall.

 “Hey, you’re (Y/N), the new girl, right, a gentle voice spoke behind your as you snapped out of your search.

- Oh, yeah, hi! She turned to the girl, probably around her age, standing next to her. We have classes together, don’t we?

- I think so, yes, I’m Medina.”

 With a friendly handshake and her best smile, the blonde girl helped (Y/N) locate her locker and settle. The next couple of classes where spent in hushed whispers and sassy comments about diverse people walking past them or throwing glances in their direction.

 The outcast had found another hermit with who she could moan about others with and it made their afternoon slightly more tolerable.

As the bell rang the end of the day, the two young women took their own paths home, Medina jumping on her bicycle and riding down the road aside a tall brunette. She had never mentioned a boyfriend but she didn’t know the blonde to take any sense of betrayal in her blood.

 Kicking up a stone or two on her way to the house she had barely got the chance to settle in, she was lost in her thoughts, trying to remember the information that had been unfurled in front of her throughout the day. The voice of her father welcomed her in the house. All she could see was the blinking colours spewing out of the TV and the back of the elderly man’s head on the couch as she climbed up the flight of stairs carrying her to her bedroom.

The door gently swayed closed as she sat at the brand new corner desk begging to be used. Unpacking her bag’s content on the desk, (Y/N) quickly worked on her tasks for the night after putting her favourite playlist on for motivation.

 Her gentle features bobbed to the beat of the music while she could hear the ocean’s harsh waves crashing on the rocks a hundred feet away from her window.

Her mother must have opened it during the day during her daily compulsive cleaning sessions. What a strange woman she was, the young one thought. After her father had caught his spouse in bed with another man, she had spun their world around and condemned herself to a life of a full time housewife, losing her mind in cleaning products and a pair of rubber cloves, the chemicals becoming some twisted medicine to her unfaithfulness.

 What a strange man her father was, accepting the multitude of apologies her mother webbed over the years. She had given up her work to tie herself to his will. As a child, her parents were the only idea of love she could base herself on which is mostly the reason of her own relationships failing. Her shifted idea of what a man and woman should act as when together was shattered when the time for her to have her first boyfriend came.

 And before she could remember the night said boyfriend broke her poor little heart, the creaking of her door pulled her out of her daydreaming, her mother standing in the frame. Her voice, raspy from decades of smoking, invited her to join them for dinner.

That’s one thing she hated too. The questioning. Yes, her day had been fine. Yes, she was making friend. Yes, her homework were finished. No, she hadn’t developed a crush on the neighbour yet. Her eyes rolled so far she fear it might disappear at the back of her skull.

 “We have been invited to a little gathering after dinner, would you care to join, the voice of her father pushed the clouded thoughts of her day out of the way.

- Sure, where is it?

- Down a few blocks, there will be a bonfire and you could bring your doodling stuff, the mother carried on.

- Yeah okay, I guess I could walk home if the adult talk become too boring, the teenager concluded as she pushed her last broccoli in her mouth, chewing on it for longer that she should.

- Great, we’ll be heading there when you are ready, sweetie”.

 The urge to roll her eyes once more was intense but she held back. The family dynamic had been broken all those years ago when the cat had gone out of the bag about her poor mother. Or poor father? (Y/N) didn’t know which one to pity the most. Their empty drive to “make it work” had smothered their daughter.

She found a way out in art. She would try her hands at any mediums. Sculpting was her favourite and she lavished herself in bringing bodies and forms to life from her nimble fingers, calloused and blistered by the hot clay. But what she was the best at was with a pencil.

 Many a sketchbook had been filled with grotesque cartoons and semi realistic portraits and stills. The comfort that sketching a frame of her vision on the blank pages somewhat made up for the lack of a mother or father figure, the two of them too busy trying to work on each other.

After shoving the dirty cutlery and plates in the dish washer, she jumped up the stairs and gathered her supplies before kicking her shoes on and following her parents to the car. There was no need for conversation as the vehicle sped down the empty streets and there was also no need for a car ride altogether.

 The smell of burning wood hit (Y/N)’s nose, offering a pleasant change from the brine and seaweed. Stepping out of the car, an unknown voice welcomed you to join the group of mingling adults at the back. A series of new introduction took place as her father shook hands with multiple strangers.

“You must be (Y/N), ‘the new girl’ Medina talked about. I’m Phil” his large hand reached forward for hers, which she shook while noticing that glint in his eyes.

The same sad glint she had seen in her father’s eyes. With the same palm, he quickly pointed to the large bonfire 200 ft forward on the beach. “She’s over there if you look for her” he mentioned causing her to whisper a quick thank you and darting towards the large dancing flames surrounded by a handful of teenagers.

 Once the sand pooled too much in her shoes and she cursed herself for wearing them, she quickly pulled them out, gingerly walking towards the only figure she recognised. Medina’s 6th sense must have been tingling because she turned around to the hesitant silhouette approaching, inviting her to sit by her side.

 “I didn’t think my dad meant it when he said you were invited tonight” the blonde suddenly blushed as the spot next to her got filled with her new acquaintance. Enquiring about the content of her Y/N, sparked a lengthy conversation about art and drawings, learning that the other outcast’s outlet was to surf with her sibling.

As if mentioning her twin was a magical incantation, his hazy body walked into view. The boy she had mistakenly assumed was the boyfriend your new friend was only his brother. He slumped next to her, his words slurred and somewhat jumbled while carrying the lingering smell of weed and booze.

 “Y-You’re not going to introduce me, he nearly choked, his head slumping forward in a playful wave.

- That’s (Y/N), she’s new here, she looked at her brother then turned to her friend, that’s my brother Jim, he’s… not new here.

- Very nice to meet you, his hand reached forward, sawing wildly.”

 Hesitantly shaking his hand, (Y/N) shared a somewhat worried look with Medina. His broad shoulders fell backwards in the sand while he gazed at the stars but her eyes were set on the display of the waves.

The blonde excused herself for a second, muttering she needed the bathroom, before her figure disappeared up the sandy slope to the house. The awkward tension thickened as the young woman felt Jim’s gaze read her features.

 She was not the conventional type of pretty. But damn did she look gorgeous as the amber lights of the flames licked her skin somehow highlighting her flaw in an array of beauty. It was probably the alcohol clouding his mind or most likely the drugs fogging his eyes. Fishing out her notepad, she started to stain the pages of her notebook with the beauty of the ocean she was witnessing as the moon was coasting on top of the waves.

The gentle footfalls of Medina brushed against her ear while (Y/N) consumed the night, her nose stuffed in her pencils and charcoals, the conversation between the twins losing itself in the blur of her focused gaze darting between the water and the her paper.

 How could he focus on the words leaving his lips when this otherworldly apparition was so deeply enthralled in her mind? Her fingers greyed and stained by the lead she was smearing on the pages. And he noticed it. That broken glimmer in her eyes. Because she was broken too, maybe more than he was himself but in her own beautiful way. And maybe he could fix her. For a split second where her eyes fell deep within his, the haze of his inebriated mind, he sobered up.

_________________________________________________

Taglist anyone?

[fanfic-inator795]

RotTMNT/Baron Jitsu Fanfiction: Dating... With Children - Chapter Two

(Also on AO3 if you want to leave a comment or kudos)

Plot:  Benjamin Draxum hardly considered himself a man of high social standing. Not because he was uncouth or unworthy of it, mind you, but simply because he didn't have much of a social life. Hard to have one when he usually spent his days at work, cooped up in a lab for so long that he often had his lunches in there, and his nights at home reading or doing research for more personal projects. But perhaps meeting handsome semi-retired movie star - as well as his four young sons - could change all that...

((Chapter two, ya’ll! Thank you to everyone for their support on this story so far, and I hope you enjoy the next chapter! ^v^))

“...What’ve you got there, baby?”

Mikey smiled, and held the drawing - consisting of crayon, marker AND a bit of paint - up for his father to see. “Lots of drawings!” he replied, “Didn't wanna choose one, so I made ‘em all! Like this guy here is a super cool dragon, an’ here's his friend who’s a turtle that can skateboard, and this is a bee that's always makin’ up words and making people spell them!”

“Heh, I'm sure I know what that's inspired from,” Lou chuckled, remembering how Raph shared that his class was having a spelling bee a couple weeks ago. He sat and listened to his youngest explain each doodle, nodding and making quick comments of his own as he did so.

“And that's all I really have so far,” Mikey finished, setting the paper down, “but I think I wanna try to add a few more drawings. Maybe some stickers too, THEN it'll be perfect!”

“Alright,” Lou nodded, “But when you're finished, would you please clean off the table? Remember, we have company coming over tonight.”

“Oh yeah! Don't worry, Papa, I will!”

“Good,” Lou smiled, ruffling his curly hair and making the boy giggle, “Thank you.”

“I'm glad Dr. Draxum is coming over,” Donnie spoke up from the beanbag, looking up from his textbook, “I wanna talk to him more about science stuff. And look!” He held up his book - ‘The Building-Blocks of Life’. “I'm reading up on genetics too! And I'm pretty sure I’ll be about as smart as him on it by the time I'm finished.”

Amused, Lou raised an eyebrow. “I didn't realize they were teaching genetics in the first grade.”

“They aren't. I finished my work early and got to go to the library again.” “Ah.” Lou made another mental tally in his head. The school hadn't said anything yet, but if this kept up, he'd have to go there himself and look into possibly moving Donatello up to Raph’s grade. “Can you believe that some kids aren't even interested in looking at the big kid section of books? Or at the non-fiction section? Those are the best sections!”

“Heh, no, I can't. But then it's a good thing that you can appreciate them.” He began to stand up, but stopped when his ears picked up on something. Some quiet whispers, a couple soft footsteps… The martial artist smirked, and prepared himself.

After a couple seconds, he felt something heavy run into him, slamming him to the carpeted floor. He let out an “OOF!”, unable to help himself, while giggles filled his ears. “I got you, Pop!” Raph grinned, “You're pinned!”

“Oh, are you sure?” Lou asked, “because I think-” He twisted his body quickly, knocking a surprised Raphael off before scooping him up into his arms, making the boy squeal. “That I have YOU!” Raph squirmed in his father’s grip while Lou gave him a couple quick noogies before kissing him on the top of his head.

“Daaaad!” Raph groaned, sticking his tongue out. Lou just laughed, letting the boy go.

“Told ya you couldn't beat him, Raphie,” Leo said, grinning at the whole scene as he sat on the arm of his pop’s chair, growing legs swinging, “He's like, the best fighter in the whole world!”

“Yeah well, I still pinned you for a second, right Pop?”

“Mm-hm,” Lou nodded, “Though next time, make sure to actually pin them once you have them on the floor. Don't just sit on them, but try putting your hands and weight on their shoulders. Makes it harder for them to move, slows them down some.” After a moment, he added “But, maybe don't try to tackle our guest tonight, hm?”

“Heh, I won't.” “Good. Now why don't you and your brother wash up?” Raph and Leo both glanced down at their grass and dirt covered limbs, grimaced at them and dashed out of the room.

Still chuckling a bit to himself, Lou picked himself off the floor and headed back into the kitchen. He had already started prepping a couple dishes, but he still had plenty left to do for their meal. His smile softened a bit as he thought about their guest…

It had taken five days for Draxum to call him. In that time, Lou had tried looking him up online. Draxum’s social media was pretty standard, nothing offensive or red-flag raising but nothing too interesting either. The only other piece of the man online was a brief biography on his lab’s research site along with a photo - where he had a very serious and professional expression on his face. A far cry from the fairly casual man he had met at the art gallery.

When he did finally call, it had been late at night, just after he'd put the boys to bed and right before heading to bed himself. Lou had wondered if perhaps this was planned, as a sort of “welp, I tried calling but there was no answer, oh well” type of thing. But Lou had answered, and much to his (and certainly to Draxum’s) surprise, they had ended up talking for a couple hours.

The conversation had started out pretty slow and standard. Lou asked how his day at work was, and Draxum asked how he and the boys were doing. After a while though, things became a little more natural, and their conversation almost became more of a banter. They’d go back and forth, discussing their favorite forms of entertainment, hobbies they enjoyed, and even sharing a couple personal anecdotes. And after all that, there was no way Lou wasn't going to end the call by inviting him over.

Draxum told him he'd have to check his schedule. It only took until the next morning for Draxum to text, letting him know that he would be free the following weekend. Again, Lou couldn't help but wonder if Draxum actually had to check his schedule or if he just didn't want to appear to eager, but said nothing. Instead, he simply gave him a date, time and his home address, and let him know that he was looking forward to it.

Lou had to admit, Draxum wasn't usually his type, but he was still unique enough to catch the ex-movie star’s interest. After all, how many buff science-type bookworms did one meet in their life? Draxum was certainly intelligent, and had a bit of a dry wit but never seemed like a snob. He was a bit stiff but not boring, spoke his mind and, if Lou was really being honest, was so hot. (Again, buff bookworms. Who knew?) Plus, his kids really seemed to like him too. In Lou’s opinion, that last bit was the most important one of all. So, with all that in mind, Lou just figured: “Eh, why not?”

It was funny how often that phrase came up during the big decisions in his life - like when he had decided that he wanted to try being a father when almost everything else in his life seemed hollow, and ended up adopting four kids instead of just one.

---------

Draxum looked at his watch. 5:17. A bit early but, wasn't that better than being late? Really, it was a good sign he was there at all, given that he was still a bit surprised at himself for even accepting the invite. ...Not that spending more time with Lou was necessarily a bad idea...

He then glanced up at the house he was now in front of. Having never actually been invited to a celebrity’s home before, he hadn't quite been sure what to expect. But a medium sized, cozy looking and slightly run-down home in Brooklyn certainly was a bit of a surprise. Maybe making action movies didn't pay as well as Draxum thought.

Still, he kept these comments to himself as he went up the walkway that was littered with chalk drawings and up to the door, knocking twice. It took a couple moments for someone - one of the boys, the one with light patches of skin around his eyes who was wearing a blue tee - to open the door. “You know the password?” He asked.

Draxum’s expression twisted slightly in annoyance, but he kept his cool. “Open says me?” He guessed.

“Mm nnnnope, sorry.” With that, the door was slammed in his face. From the other side, he could hear more young voices, scolding and lightly arguing with each other. The door opened again, and one boy had become four. “I was just joking!” Leo insisted while Donnie continued to glare.

“Hi, Dr. Draxum!” Mikey greeted with a wave.

“Sorry about my dumb brother-” “Hey!” “You can come on in,” Raph added.

Draxum nodded. “Thank you,” he said, moving his arm a bit so he could reveal more of the small box he had been carrying. “If you hadn't let me in when you did, this probably would have melted.”

Leo’s eyes widened. “Wait, you brought cake?! Well you should’a said so!”

With a ghost of a smile on his face, Draxum walked inside. The living room to the Jitsu home was inviting and very much in-use, but not the cluttered and messy space that Draxum had been worried it might have been. There was a reclining chair, a love seat, two kid-sized beanbags, a coffee table with several colorful marks now permanently on it, and a flat screen tv that was playing some cartoon. There were a couple toys on the floor, though not enough that Draxum had to worry about tripping over anything, as well as a few framed pictures on the wall. One of Lou at what looked like some award ceremony, one of him with a Chinese woman (ex wife, perhaps?) and of course, one of him with his children that looked like it was taken just a couple years ago.

“Hey, Doc!” a voice called from the kitchen, bringing Draxum out of his thoughts, “How’s it going? You find the place alright?”

“Yes, there's this wonderful thing called a gps that really helps,” Draxum dryly replied.

Lou chuckled, smiling at him over his shoulder, and blinking when he saw the ice cream cake in the taller man’s hands. From the look of the packaging, he could guess that it came from a pretty high end bakery. “Oh, you didn't have to bring anything.”

“Well, you said you were making supper, I figured the least I could do was bring dessert,” Draxum told him, “Should I just put this in the fridge, then?”

“Yeah, go right ahead.” Draxum did, and then sat down at the table. He noticed that Lou was just in a loose fitting, pale yellow tee and some jeans. Immediately, he felt overdressed, even if he himself was just in a button-up long sleeve shirt and some dark khakis. Still, Draxum tried to look as ‘casual’ as possible, but clearly it wasn't working by the way Lou kept glancing back at him from the kitchen counter

“I'm glad you could make it, by the way,” Lou spoke up, trying to break the ice a little, “I'm sure you get pretty busy, being a scientist and all.”

“Actually, unless I hit a big breakthrough or doing work on a time sensitive project, it's pretty much a nine-to-five job most of the time,” Draxum replied, “The work stays steady, at least.” Lou nodded, and went back to his cooking. Not wanting to risk falling into uncomfortable silence once again, Draxum decided to ask something that had been on his mind since they first met. “And what do you do for a living these days, given that your last film was in, what, the early 2000s?”

Rather than being offended or caught off guard, Lou just smirked. “...You sure you're not a fan of my films?”

“Definitely not,” Draxum retorted so quickly that it made Lou laugh

“If you say so! Anyway, yeah, that was about the time I moved from LA to here. I was smart about my last few paychecks, so I pretty much live off my savings.

Draxum blinked. “...Seriously?”

“Seriously. Though, I know I can't use ALL of it - I know at least one of my kids is going to be going to college - so I do odd jobs when I need to. Make appearances at conventions, do a quick commercial or two sometimes- heh, last year I was even paid to play on a gameshow. A stagehand kept an eye on the boys as they watched me play from the audience, I won some money for a charity, and then the next day I took them to Disneyland. Used most of that paycheck to do it, too. So, I guess you could call me a bit of a sellout.” Though judging by his tone, Lou didn't seem bothered by this at all.

“I don't think anyone could really blame you for taking less time consuming work,” Draxum offered, “Still, do you ever miss making movies, as cheesy as they are?” Or rather, were.

Lou thought for a moment as he tossed the last few ingredients into the frying pan. “...Yeah,” he admitted, “I do. Though, there are plenty of things about the industry that I definitely don't miss, and besides…” His smile softened a bit. “I've got plenty of other things to occupy my time.”

Suddenly, there was a shout. Turning in surprise, Draxum looked through the doorway and watched as Donnie tackled a laughing Leon to the floor. “...Speaking of which, do you know that your kids are tackling each other?”

“Oh yeah, they do that sometimes,” Lou nodded, not even moving from the counter, “Boys will be boys and all that. They're going to roughhouse no matter what I say, and as long as they follow the rules, I usually don't need to step in.”

“Rules?”

Setting down his stirring spoon, Lou counted them off his fingers. “No holding anyone down for more than a couple seconds, no using force to get someone to play what you want to play, if someone says they don't want to wrestle then just leave them be, and no making anyone cry. They're good boys, so that last one is usually punishment enough when they accidentally break it.”

“Ah, I see,” Draxum nodded. Well, that was one way to teach kids how to control their strength and think about their actions. Still, he wondered how Lou would go about things once his sons got a little older and possibly became interested in following in their father’s martial arts footsteps.

It didn't take much longer for their supper to be finished. The kids came to the table without even needing to be called, smelling the food and eager to eat as well as being excited to talk with their guest again. While Raph and Leo told Lou all about the latest exciting climax in their cartoon, Mikey shared one of his drawings with Draxum, who could only stare at it.

“It's, uh…” He tilted his head a bit, staring at the mess of bright colors and scribbles. What on earth was it supposed to be? A natural disaster mixed with a rainbow? “...Very nice, yes.

Mikey beamed. “Really?! Which one is your favorite?”

Shoot, there was more than one drawing there? Well, that at least explained why everything was so cluttered. “Er, well…” He focused a little more on the drawing, and try to find anything that resembled something other than a blob or a tumbleweed to him. “I like this… Cat. Yes, this cat over in the corner, with the… Ice cream on it?”

Mikey looked back at the paper. “That's not a cat.” “Oh, sor-” “But that's a good idea!” The boy gave Draxum another bright smile. “I’ll draw you a kitty with ice cream later, kay?”

“Heh, very well,” Draxum nodded, relieved that he didn't offend the young artist.

“-And then, they used the magic sword, and blasted the bad guys right into the sky!” “Yeah, and the main hero guy said the BEST thing afterwards! He's soooo cool!”

“Well of course, he IS the main hero, after all” Lou chuckled, setting the last of the dishes down at the table, “Donnie, please put your book away now.”

Donnie frowned, reluctantly closing his half-finished textbook. “Fine…” As he placed it back into his ever-present backpack, Draxum managed to catch the book’s title.

“Genetics, hm?” He asked, smiling a bit. Perhaps the boy had been inspired. “Enjoying it so far?” Donnie nodded, keeping his eyes on the silverware in front of him.

The meal was fairly simple. A baked fish as the main course, with fried rice and an easy-to-make salad as the sides. Still, what it lacked in uniqueness, it more than made up for in good flavor. “I'm usually not much of a fish eater, but this is quite good,” Draxum commented, after only a couple bites.

“Mm-hm,” Lou smirked, “I'm not just a handsome actor-martial artist, after all. I know how to cook.” Draxum just rolled his eyes, mildly amused at his date’s cockiness.

“You should try eatin’ the fish and the rice at the same time,” Raph advised, “They go really good together!”

Draxum was the type to keep his food, as well as the tastes and textures, separate while he ate, but he did try the combination once just to appease the eldest Jitsu child. As he continued to eat, Draxum kept glancing over at Donatello out of the corner of his eye. The boy in purple nibbled and picked at his food, fidgeting a bit and staying silent. Certainly different from the eager and inquisitive boy Donnie had introduced himself as, so what had brought on this sudden shyness?

Was it something Draxum had said? He couldn't think of anything that could've been taken as discouragement or dismissal. So, maybe Donnie just didn't care for his field of science but didn't want to offend Draxum by saying so? No, that didn't seem right either. So then, what-?

He noticed Leo leaning over, whispering to Donnie for a moment before being nudged away. Rather than being annoyed, Leo just looked a bit concerned while his twin just looked… Embarrassed? An epiphany went off in Draxum’s mind. So THAT was why Donnie wasn't talking to him.

“Donnie,” he began, getting the boy’s attention, “I was wondering if you had any thoughts on your research so far?”

Donnie continued to squirm, squeezing his fists in his lap. “I-I mean, I'm still reading through the book so, so I'm not really an expert on it yet.” Truth be told, while he liked all sciences, he had really taken a shine to robotics and technology the most. “But talking to you ‘bout it before gave me a good head start, and I know the basics of it already and, um…”

“Yes…?”

“A-And, I…” Donnie scowled before suddenly shouting, “I have a scientific theory! A-About genetics, I mean.”

Draxum nodded, keeping composed (because, wow, even he could admit this was kind of adorable). “May I hear about it?” he asked, making sure to keep his voice neutral to avoid sounding patronizing, knowing that a child as smart as Donnie would definitely notice.

“Well… O-Our genes are inherited from our birth parents, right? So we only have a possibility of getting what they, or the rest of their people in their family, had. But, maybe there could be a way to, um, switch out genes somehow? Maybe with gene samples from other people, or with genes made by scientists, and then those new cells could develop and make whatever kind of person with whatever features they wanted.” Donnie winced a bit once he was finished, and waited for Draxum’s reaction.

The scientist hummed. “Well, that is a sound theory. Perhaps a bit difficult to test at the moment, but I can understand the basis of it, as well as see how it could be possible one day.” Donnie’s eyes widened. He stared back at Draxum, and began to grin widely, as if he had just received the best compliment ever. Draxum held back a chuckle. “Would you like to discuss this theory further?” “Yeah!”

Unsurprisingly, once Draxum began sharing the concept of gene mutation, the conversation devolved into a mix of scientific theorizing with some sci-if-esque levels of speculation (Donnie) and a debate over which animal features and mutations would be best to mix with people (the rest of the boys). Still, the discussion was no less enjoyable, to the kids or to Draxum.

And as for Lou, he just watched and listened, a warm smile on his face. This may have been their first shared meal together, but Draxum already felt like a seat at the table that had always somehow been there

----------

“...I think I just made it impossible for your kids to go to sleep tonight.”

“Eh, they've had worse sugar rushes. Trust me, this is nothing. Besides, they'll burn it all up soon enough.”

The remaining slices of the ice cream cake had already been placed back into the fridge, and because it was still somewhat light out, the boys had been allowed to go play outside for a while. So, they raced out the door, leaving their father and his date to watch by the window while they started playing what Draxum could only describe as a mixed up version of soccer and cricket.

He wasn't even sure if they were keeping score. All he could tell was that the game involved running all around the small yard, using foam swords and hockey sticks to hit a ball as well as kicking it with their feet. Either way, they all seemed to enjoy it, with Raph happily teaming up with Mikey and offering him a piggyback ride whenever his youngest brother struggled to keep up.

Draxum hummed, taking a small sip from the tea Lou had made for him before setting the cup back down. “Your kids are definitely unique.”

“Heh, they sure are,” Lou agreed, “They really are good boys… And they really like you, you know.”

Draxum nodded. It was still sort of hard to believe himself, given how he often thought of children as nothing more than tiny annoyances. Yes, Lou’s kids were loud, and strange, and still a tiny bit annoying. But they were also clever and endearing, and even a little cute. So, he had no real problems with them liking him, or with liking them in return.

“...And,” Lou began, taking a step closer, suddenly making Draxum very aware of his presence, “I really like you too.”

“I-...” That was all Draxum could get out as he turned from the window, looking Lou directly in the eyes now. The handsome (‘ugh, why did he have to be so handsome,’ Draxum thought to himself, knowing this would all be so much easier if he wasn't) man stared back at him, lips curled into an honest smile. No cockiness or playing up his ego, Lou simply wanted him to know how he felt.

“And I mean it too. And uh, heh, no pressure or anything but… I hope the feeling’s mutual.” Draxum didn't say anything, but he didn't look away either. Lou took another slow step forward. Close enough together to do so now, Draxum dared himself to take his hands.

“I think… That's a possibility,” Draxum told him quietly, finally finding the words to reply.

Lou smiled, letting out a soft chuckle that made Draxum’s heart leap a bit. “Good to know…” They were closer now, enough for Draxum to see himself in Lou’s glasses. He told himself that he wasn't the kind of man to kiss on the first date, but Lou was making it SO tempting!

Their faces were getting closer, with Draxum’s own feeling much too warm. He placed his hands on the shorter man’s chest… And gently pushed him away.

The ex-action star blinked, the intimate mood gone in an instant, suddenly leaving him feeling cold. Still, despite his disappointment, Lou backed away.

“...It’s getting late,” Draxum stated, “I should probably get going.” He didn't waste time moving past Lou, now standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room.

Lou nodded. “Right, of course. Well, thanks again for coming over. I had a nice-”

“I’m-” Draxum suddenly began to say, still refusing to look back at him, “I’m… Available next weekend, as well. So, perhaps you could come over to my place and we could have dinner there.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Just the two of us. It, it's the least I could do, cooking for you in return.”

“...” Lou’s grin returned. So there WAS going to be a next time! “Yeah, that sounds great! Just text me a time and your address and I’ll be there!”

Draxum nodded. “I will.”

“Heh, I’ll be looking forward to our next appointment, Dr. Draxum.”

Even with the light blush still in his cheeks, Draxum turned back around halfway, scoffing at him. “You don't have to keep calling me that. I have a first name, I won't be offended if you use it.”

Despite his internet search on the man, Lou continued to be coy. “You never told me it, Dr. Tall, Dark and Handsome.”

His date rolled his eyes, sighing slightly. He was tall, definitely, but he wasn't anywhere near dark. His skin just barely had a tan! “It's Benjamin. Benjamin Draxum.”

“Ah. Well, Ben, I’ll see you next week.” Draxum nodded, hesitating for only a moment before moving once more. Lou followed him to the front door, and they each gave a quick good night before Draxum left.

“Heh, a second date,” Lou told himself, still grinning about it, “How about that?” With his steps light and earlier disappointment being unable to touch his now sky-high mood, Lou went into his backyard and began trying to wrangle up his kids and get them back inside for pajamas and teeth brushing.

[raw-output]

20 Years.

Two-thirds of a lifetime ago, a ten-year-old boy in a scratchy wool sweater sat huddled under an old down blanket. The first proper snow of the season had come the week before, and the boy hadn’t been dressed for building forts. Now here he was - bored, sick and sweaty. His mother entered the room with a mug of undrinkably hot milk with honey and butter. In her other hand was an issue of GAME.EXE, a computer gaming magazine. The words “HALF-LIFE” were plastered across the bottom of the cover. The boy loved reading, and loved computers, and the milk needed time to cool off anyway. He opened the magazine and flipped to page 8 after finding it in the table of contents. The boy grew older and switched languages, countries and continents, but his favorite game never changed.

-

It’s hard to compress two decades into text, but I will attempt to do so when it comes to my relationship with the Half-Life series that began all those years ago, with that preview article in that magazine.

The article  was written in a second-person perspective that really stuck out to me, and was filled with screenshots that would later turn out to be of an unreleased rough beta version of the game. It ran through several dramatized, episodic descriptions of events in the game, then listed out the weapons used in the game, the enemies you would face and the tactics to deal with them. Finally, there was an interview with Marc Laidlaw himself. This single article was sufficient to make me completely insufferable to my parents for the next few months. “I want to play Half-Life,” I would say. At first, this meant asking to go to an Internet cafe a few blocks away from home, and for money to pay by the hour and use one of their beefy gaming PCs. Later on, it meant asking for a copy of the game, and for time on the “main” home computer - the only machine that could run the game at all, in glorious 320x240 resolution that gave me headaches.

-

A couple of years passed. The move to the US threw everything into a pleasant state of disarray, but the one thing that hadn’t changed was having to ask my parents to use the computer to play Half-Life. I had found one of my own soon after arriving in the States, but it had no sound card. It was there, on my mother’s computer, that I finally beat the game. My thirteenth birthday present was a copy of the newly released Opposing Force expansion. My birthday cake featured an edible photo of myself playing in a fountain in downtown Chicago, which my mother doodled over with brightly colored frosting. I was now knee-deep in toxic green sludge, a crowbar in one hand, and a proud Lambda logo on my chest.

Most kids in my 8th and 9th grade classes didn’t share my enthusiasm for Half-Life. They played console games and were rightfully hyped about the Playstation 2 and X-Box. In search of like-minded people, I took to the Internet. My options for getting online in 2001 were limited to libraries - either during lunch at school, or at the Naperville Public Library, which was a hour-long walk from home. I discovered Planet Half-Life, an offshoot of the Gamespy network. Through it, I discovered the fact that my favorite game was designed from the ground up to be moddable. I learned of Counter-Strike, Team Fortress Classic, and Sven Co-op. I discovered the Handy Vandal’s Almanac and The Snarkpit, two communities focused on level design. Having no reliable internet at home, I downloaded the level editor - then called Worldcraft - onto a floppy drive and brought it home to install. For the first time, I wasn’t simply playing the game. My parents looked on as I worked to figure out the obtuse user interface, trying to remember what I’d read earlier in the day. They raised their eyebrows when I finally managed to compile and run my first level - a hollow, unlit concrete box 512 units across with a single prefab trashcan hovering in the center. There wasn’t much more I could do in the limited time I was allowed to use the good computer, but I had caught the bug. My notebooks were filled with doodles of level layouts, my mind filled with cheesy storylines to match.

Eventually my family moved to a house with proper internet access, and I got a set of hardware with enough power under the hood to run both the game and the editor. It could even produce sound! All the things I could only read and salivate about were now within my reach, and I gorged myself on them. Counter-Strike quickly fell by the wayside, but Team Fortress and Sven Co-Op did not. Natural Selection came out and blew me away with how different a Half-Life mod could look and feel from the original game. I stayed up past midnight, playing, building, and playing some more. I learned that projects can die - when the extremely tongue-in-cheek Scientist Slaughterhouse mod went silent.

The release of the Half-Life 2 trailer took everybody by surprise. I had called one of my like-minded friends and we synch-watched it together, pausing every few minutes to let the video buffer and gush about how amazing everything looked and how much we were looking forward to messing with the modding toolkit. The subsequent beta leak and resulting delays taught me to be patient.

The move to California was not long after, and my patience was immediately put to the test as most of my belongings were stuck with the moving company, including my computer. I must have gone through a full pack of printer paper in less than a month, drawing up concepts and layouts for Xen Rebels, a mod centered around a semi-peaceful human colonization of the realm set after the events of Half-Life. Once my computer arrived, it was right back to the late nights and groggy mornings for me. Our home Internet was bad but workable, and I spent countless hours with the new and more creative mods that were being released, including The Specialists - a strong attempt to recreate the gun-fighting and martial arts stylings of Hong-Kong action movies in a multiplayer game. Around the same time I was introduced to the strange new world of anime, and decided that I simply must change the two throwable knives offered by The Specialists into kunai and throwing needles. This of course required me to learn 3D modelling. At the time, this was done with Milkshape 3D, a model editor compatible with most contemporary game formats. Once again, countless hours of figuring out the interface and the workflow followed, set to the calming tones of the Unreal, Deus Ex and Half-Life soundtracks. Creating models felt a lot more freeform than levels as I wasn’t constrained to a unit grid or forced to use convex geometry, and one day the new throwing weapons were in. I published the modified models on a forum to exactly zero fanfare. Around the same time, I began learning the basics of Photoshop in school, so modelling and texturing went hand in hand. To say my early textures were atrocious would be an affront to honest, hard-working atrocious textures the world over, but I continued my studies. My experience with working in 3D even netted me a 2nd place award at the school art contest - money which I immediately put back into upgrading my computer.

Half-Life 2 came out in November of 2004, to universal praise and celebration. I received the collector’s edition as a present for New Year, along with a copy of Raising The Bar. I beat the game the same morning, without a wink of sleep between unwrapping my present and the final darkness of the credits screen. The SDK didn’t ship with the game, but as soon as it was released I dove in. Soon after, the modding community blossomed, bigger and more vibrant than the original game’s, driven by the incredible flexibility of the engine. One of the first mods that appeared was made by a British man named Garry, and was called simply that, “Garry’s Mod”. It let players interact with the physics engine, and slowly sprouted more and more features. Many players used these features to pose character ragdolls, eventually creating entire comic series with storylines ranging from the comedic non-sequitur to dark and serious. Of course I felt the need to try my hand at it. That lead to the creation of The Plane - the story of Beet, a Combine Elite who managed to break free of his overseers’ indoctrination and find friendship, love, and revenge on his old masters. The only redeeming feature of that story was that it taught me how not to write stories.

I began getting more attached to the Gmod community than the expressly level design one at The Snarkpit. The few levels I publicly released were designed specifically as sandboxes to play and build in. The most popular ones were gm_orbit and rp_bahamut, maps set in space and featuring zero gravity for physical objects, allowing players to build smaller spaceships, or roleplay as the crew of a salvage and exploration vessel. Posting teaser images on the forums taught me a valuable lesson - what it felt like to be the one creating hype, instead of experiencing it. The constant demands were overwhelming. Some would simply want more work-in-progress screenshots. Others would drop ultimatums that unless a certain feature was designed a certain way, they would refuse to use the map. Others yet attempted to worm their way into getting the map early, offering to test it and provide feedback. I had almost deleted each project multiple times before finally releasing it.

Life happened, and things with Half-Life slowed down. When the Orange Box came out in 2006, I attempted to get it at a five-finger discount at a local Target. I got caught. Indirectly thought it was, Half-Life taught me that idiocy often leads to consequences. Buying it legitimately later in the year and playing through Episode Two reminded me that some stories aren’t written to end neatly.

It was in 2007 that I bought a membership for the Something Awful forums, and discovered an avid and very exclusive community of Gmod players. Over the course of the following decade, most of these people remained in constant contact with me, and will probably remain so for the foreseeable future. I became an admin once we opened our serves to the public - moderating the newcomers and mentoring the unskilled. One of the people had a project in mind, and I began creating models again. Miraculously, Milkshape 3D remained compatible with the Source engine, so I worked with it until I learned Maya. This project would eventually become known as Armored Combat Framework, and be released to the Gmod community at large. I learned how to iterate designs based on feedback, and how it felt to work in a well organized team.

Frontier happened around 2010, and was another lesson in teamwork - specifically what happens when things break down without role redundancy. Ambitions ran high, and the hype mounted. The programmer eventually left, and all that remains of the project is the very videos and images that were used to hype it in the first place, and a folder full of now-useless models, maps and textures. That was probably what prompted me to start pulling away from Half-Life and Gmod in general.

Black Mesa came out in 2012 and breathed a new life into my old obsession. I played through the original Half-Life again, then through the remake, noting the differences and the tweaks to make the gameplay more palatable to modern-day players. It felt good, like putting on an old but comfortable jacket. I’d fire up the SDK now and then, mostly to help newer, more driven designers. Two of the guys from Team Frontier went on to work in the industry full-time. There were whispers of a new game in the works, minor leaks of file and folder names hidden away in Valve projects. Episode 3 turned into Half-Life 3. A full sequel, rather than another short episode, as originally planned. “HL3 Confirmed” became a meme, but the people at the top remained silent.

Life kept happening, as it does. I lost people, I found people. I left home. Every now and then I’d fire up HL or BM again, or drop by the old Gmod server. I’d build things and model things, and release none of it to the public. I watched as the Dota International became the most widely spectated event in gaming, making players, sponsors, and Valve millions. The realization slowly started settling in. Then Marc Laidlaw retired, and later posted the Epistle. The workers at Valve spoke of a lack of direction and stagnation that comes with a cornered market. Modding for an engine over a decade old, no matter how advanced, slowed down.

It’s a different world now. Unity and Unreal engines rule the scene. Survival and Battle Royale have become the new buzzwords. Microtransactions. Loot boxes. Streaming integration. Freemium. E-Sports. Mobile gaming. Virtual Reality. If a new Half-Life were to appear today, would it be changed by the zeitgeist, or would it stay the course set by its predecessors? I don’t know. But there’s one thing that the escapades of a mute, bespectacled research associate have taught me more than anything else: hope.

[paradisaeaart]

An Update (more like a revival?)

So hi. Uh, it's been quiet a bit of radio silence from me for a while. Lots happened in the several months since I vanished. I've gone through a lot mentally and physically with my health, lots of personal drama, a few misfortunes and a death. Art block and general deep depression have eaten away at my creativity. I stepped away from social media for a long period. That's why I've been incredibly inactive until recently, except the occasional reblog on my main.

Not all has been doom and gloom, though! I've started to get back into a rhythm (of sorts) with my art. My job is semi-stable which gives me more time to work on myself, my passions and my life. I'm hoping to use this break as a new beginning of sorts, to learn and grow from the cracks that have been filled while I was recovering. I'm not entirely out of the zone I've been in since August of 2021, but at least I'm seeing the end of that dark tunnel.

I'm going to try to stream both art and games on a regular basis over on Twitch. I plan on posting more often, even if it's just WIPs or doodles. Hell, while this is my dedicated art blog, I've considered posting my cosplay process and progress (as to me, they're an art in of themselves). Il

I do apologize for the silence for so long, and thanks to those who've stuck around during that. Thanks for also taking the time to read this.

See ya soon,

Sho/Azzy

[haphazardlyparked]

Real Bad Ideas(TM)

anyway, I started watching Riverdale and this happened. typically @straycatreadsthat​ only enabled me, so this lands squarely on her, but also i wanted this badly 

here’s a bunch of shamelessly self-indulgent stuff

"Hey, I’m sorry about your brother," Nat Shy says, with what sounds like genuine sympathy, when Yila squeezes by him to claim a seat in one of the last rows. She would have tried to hide out in the very last row, but Cian and Other Lan are already back there with their heads together and Yila does not want to touch that with a twenty foot pole.

Yila doesn’t look at Nat. She swallows back a lump in her throat and mumbles something that might be a thanks. Hunching further into her hoodie, she manages to make it all the way to the other end of the row without having to exchange words with anyone else.

Then: "Oh hi, is anyone sitting next to you?" a too-bright voice asks. Yila looks up reluctantly at another Asian student she's never seen before (and she knows all the Asian students because Li-an liked to drag her to the Asian Students Association meetings and that causes a fresh wave of dull pain in Yila's chest.)

"I'm new," the girl says, and suddenly Yila is crying and can't stop and is desperately ashamed of it.

"Oh my god," the girl says, and sits down. She digs into her bag, pulls out a packet of tissues and a baseball cap, and shoves them both in Yila's direction.

Yila gratefully puts the hat on under her hoodie and accepts the tissues, and then does her level best to pretend she doesn't exist.

•••

“Holy shit, Cal,” Meg hisses, smacking Cal’s arm. “Look.”

“Megan,” says Cal, sweet, hapless Cal who is the only person in the entire world who calls Meg “Megan” and kind of makes her feel like a bitch every once in a while. “Ow.”

“Okay, sorry, but look.” Meg jerks her head at the door.

It’s Clara Brights, whose only friend is Radian Jones, who spent half his time last year being her friend and the other half gunning for editor-in-chief of the school newspaper.  

“Oh,” Cal says. “Okay, wow.”

“Yeah,” Meg says. “Ten bucks Nat Shy is having a heart attack somewhere.”

Somehow over the summer Clara Brights had gone from short and tiny to average height and tiny, which made her look less like an earnest middle schooler who somehow found her way in the halls of high school, and more like a shy brunette beauty. She’s standing at the main doors to the auditorium, checking something in her bag and accidentally blocking the way in; Kinlo, one of the varsity football players, is right behind her and does not seem to mind a bit.

“Okay,” Cal says again, then turns back to doodling in his notebook. “What does Nathanial have to do with it?”

Meg ignores him; Nat’s repressed crush on Clara is not common knowledge, but Cal was definitely with her when she found Nat pining away in an art studio over a glass flower at the end of last year. She wonders if he ever gave it to Brights.

“Do you think I can get her to try out for the field hockey team?” Now that Brights doesn’t look like she’s going to break like a twig at the hint of a stiff breeze, Meg thinks she’d be fast on the field, and maybe a bit surprisingly aggressive too. Meg has good intuition when it comes to these things.

“Does she even like field hockey?” Cal asks.  

“I bet I could get her to try out,” Meg decides.

Cal puts the finishing touch on his dragon. “Okay,” he agrees absently.

Meg would say more, but suddenly there’s the loud, ear-piercing shriek of a malfunctioning microphone, and followed by an awkward laugh that booms through the soundspeakers. The entire school assembly collectively winces; hawkishly watching the new and improved Clara Brights, Meg inwardly crows when she sees the other girl smoothly dodge Kinlo’s sudden stumbling. Reflexes!

“Sorry,” Hokiraj Kas, this year’s Head Boy says awkwardly, and still too loudly.

“Maybe take a step back,” the microphone picks up Masara Amir’s voice; surprising no one, she’s the Head Girl to Kas’s Head Boy, and Shilim Scorch, the school’s resident creep, is taking bets on how long it’ll take Kas to ask her out on a date. (Cal asked if that wasn’t a little mean? But Meg put her money on Kas blurting out his love for her in some public fashion at Homecoming.)

“Oops,” Kas says, and at a normal volume. “Is this better? Good! Okay, hey, everyone! Welcome back! I know we’ve still got stragglers coming in — Kinlo, that’s a detention for you, buddy — but we’re about to get started with the first assembly of the school year!”

•••

Annnnnnd then assembly happens, with Masara and Hikaj taking the lead to make the major announcements, and at one point Hikaj calls out to congratulate Other Lan on making it to the semi-finals of Jeopardy! Teen. Except he accidentally calls her “Other Lan” and not by her proper name, and then the school kind of collectively feels inadequate because Masara gives Hikaj an incredibly disappointed look and everyone else feels like it’s directed at them, because nobody sitting in the auditorium can actually remember Other Lan’s real name either.

“Though seriously,” Hikaj says, after apologizing profusely for calling her Other Lan in public (Other Lan is sitting in the back row with Cian and does not look like she gives a a single shit), “Why would you quit just as you get to the semi-finals?”

Other Lan just kind of shrugs.

other First Assembly of the School Year highlights include:

“Dude,” Meg says when the new librarian and media tech support teacher, Iska Wells, is introduced to the school. “Mr. Keller is totally eyefucking the poor guy.”

Mr. Keller is the English teacher for both freshmen and seniors; his freshmen always seem to come out of his class in a horrified daze, but by time they're seniors they'll have started calling him by his nickname, Kalna, and joke with him in the halls. The evolving relationship students have with Mr. Keller is a RBI High rite of passage. Meg thinks she might graduate to "Kalna" this year.

“Megan,” Cal complains. “Why are you like this?”

“Shut up, you love me,” Meg maintains, just as Kinlo leans over from the row behind them to weigh in.

“First,” Kinlo whispers, “that kind of look should be banned, we are a school. But second, I’d like to direct your attention to Prof Shady.”

Prof Shady is the school’s (loving?) nickname for Professor Natale, the comp sci teacher everyone calls Prof Shady because who the hell gets their PhD in AI technology and then fucks off to a high school to teach a bunch annoying kids? At Kinlo’s suggestion, Meg shifts her attention from Mr. Keller to the Prof, who is sitting next to the new librarian. He looks stiffer than usual, and is also studiously avoiding looking at the politely smiling Mr. Wells, even though everyone else is clapping to welcome him.

“That’s not weird at all,” says Meg.

And also:

The assembly takes a turn for the sad and awkward when Masara finally ends with, “Finally, we’d like to have a moment of silence for our classmate, Li-an Sun, who would have been a sophomore this year.”

Everyone knows that Li-an Sun drowned over the summer. As soon as Masara makes her announcement, the auditorium splits itself between those who carefully don’t crane their necks awkwardly looking for Li-an’s twin sister, Yila Sun, and those who do exactly that.

Meg ignores Cal’s elbow in her ribs, and joins the second group. When she does spot Yila Sun, she’s surprised to see her sitting next to an unfamiliar Asian girl, who must be the new transfer student. New Transfer Student is systematically frowning at every person who's looking at Yila; when she and Meg make eye contact, Meg mouths "Try out for field hockey," and then turns back around in her seat.  

bonus! later into the school year: 

"Hey, Yila?" New Lan asks during lunch one day. New Lan's parents are high powered government employees. She's the Head Girl’s cousin, and is one of the rising stars on the school's popular field hockey team (along with, strangely, Clara Brights). Yila isn't sure why New Lan still sits with her at lunch, but she knows for a fact Cian and Other Lan whisper furiously about their fledging friendship.

"What?" Yila asks, and tries to say it as nicely as possible. The thing is - Lan is the only person in the school who didn't know her has half of Li-an, and who doesn't look at her with constant pity. Just for that, Yila would hang onto this friendship for as long as she possibly can, but it turns out Lan is also smart and funny, and Yila hasn't laughed in what feels like forever.

"Why does the school have a security guard who drives around on a segway? Indoors?”

"Porcelain?" Yila shrugs. "Dunno, but the rumor is the Head Boy is actually a lord somewhere, and Porcelain's here just to guard him."

"But why the segway?"

"It's mostly as a fuck-you to one the school's trustees. They had a huge thing go on last year."