#feels self conscious always for posting my sketches but whatever i want to get better about it

[skuntank]

Might add some Virgil Finlay-esque sparklies and orbs and shit idk

[trincketbox]

Jason Todd as a Trans (ftm) allegory

Written by me, a trans man

[this edit was made by me, original picture it's Dan Mora's sketch]

TW gender disphoria, (implied) transphobia.

Im not saying his story was written with this perspective in mind, Im saying *death of the author (*the reinterpretation of artistic creations by the public both as a community and aa individuals, and how this goes far beyond the creator's original message on mind) is a very real thing.

This narrative resonated with me, a trans man, and my experience as such. Maybe out there is another transmasc person who caught themselves invested in this character the same way as I, and maybe they'll read this post and be happy to found out they're not alone on these feelings.

Without further addue, let's begin.

The second Robin, and the feeling of not fitting

Every trans person first memory of perceiving oneself as somehow different (and how) it's particular to each.

Some realize pretty young, some older. Some always have this lingering feeling of not belonging but become conscious of it later in life.

This feeling its present trough all of Jason's life. First, when he first arrives at the Manor. Later, when he starts operating as Robin. Then when Tim "replaces him", and so on.

Usually labelled as the black lamb of the family.

Tragedy is always, first, born off love

Jason's death and resurrection is written as a tragedy (no shit, Sherlock). But there, to be a tragedy, there has to be hope first. There has to be love.

Now, this varies from version to version, but a general consence is that Jason Todd was loved by Bruce Wayne, regardless of how much their relationship might change and twist on the future; Jason Todd was a good kid, regardless of how he might be portrayed as recless. He was a traumatized, angry kid who wanted to make things better. Who wished for bad guys to not hurt people anymore. Who wished to change the system for better, and took the matter on his own hands both as a child and as a young adult.

This

This right here

Was a loved, brave, bold, sensitive, mischievous, smart child who would latter come back like this:

Demanding justice, demanding damnation for al the pain he went through, demanding retaliation to the monster that set him off this world.

And all these requests fell to the ears of Bruce Wayne, Batman. The man who took him in as a scared, bold litte child that beated him in the cold of the night in the alley where his parents died. He stole his car tires, he's a child and he stole his car tires and he made Batman laugh.

That Perception doesn't change with his rise from the dead.

What changes is Bruce's view of him now.

Now, this depends on the writer, but on the start of Jason's "coming back to Gotham to fight Bruce" arc, there is the accusation of him coming back wrong.

Of him being better before

Of something being wrong with him since the start.

The implications of his physical change as wrong in comparation to his younger self.

I find Jason's body dismorphia due to The Lazarus Pit™ very interesting,but in this case Im not referring to it as a comparation with body disphoria (even through, he does get the feeling of your body changing in ways out of your control and the trauma that surrounds it).

Im talking about Bruce's view on all of this.

Luckily, if you're trans and had supportive parents, you won't know these things by first hand experience, but many, many people do.

And Jason gets it.

Jason Todd its womanhood™ coded

This is, partially, one of th main reasons why his fanbase consists on a large part of fangirls.

Repressed rage upon the injustices you go through all your life, and once the last drop falls, said rage is weaponized. Seen as dirty, as over the top, as dangerous.

Your older self being compared to your younger self, being asked (directly or indirectly) where that sweet child™ went.

Being striped away from your body autonomy (murder, torture, resurrection against his will, whatever is going on in Batman Gotham War).

Being labeled as the most sensitive. Sometimes in a good light, sometimes not.

The burning weight of still loving parental figures that hurted you.

Topping it all, it's implied through many instances he's a feminist (yes, Im aware this is also heavily influenced by fanon interpretations of the character, but you can't deny it's still heavily implied).

All of these issues almost universal (however not exclusive) to AFAB people life experience.

There is this recognition in these wounds. "He gets it", you feel, he gets it.

He gets it in a similar way transmasc individual have an undeniable insight of these issues. He gets it in a way that feels genuine, familiar, personal.

Lastly but nor least important,

He gives me gender™ vibes. That's it, that's the argument

Over all, Jason Todd its a multifaceted, complex character. He's morally grey, his temperament ranging and mutating with each reinterpretation. Some core issues stick, others don't.

I do not hold the one and only right interpretation of this character.

We can al agree, nevertheless, that even through he's not canonically trans,

Jason todd would be a great trans ally, fighting by our side, in name of our rights, our pain but also our pride.

For that's what heroes do.

[marquis-of-writeblr]

20 Questions Writer Questionnaire

Tagged by @saturnine-saturneight

Is writing a hobby or way of life?

Still just a hobby, but I want to make it much more a part of my life. Getting off to a rough start, but this blog is part of that plan.

A journal full of writing notes or a clean, completed manuscript?

Hmm… I'd say 50/50 probably? During the planning stages, to figure out aspects of the world or my characters, I'll use notebooks as something like scratch paper to sketch things out (sometimes literally) before writing them up in digital documents. But all those notes are largely just for the sorts of things that could cause continuity errors. A character's appearance, the geography and climate of a location, etc. When I sit down to write, it's usually by opening a blank document and just writing by the seat of my pants.

Who (or what) is your writing inspiration?

Oh that's a tough one. There's a couple of authors who I look up to in aspiration, usually for stylistic reasons; Pratchett, Tamsyn Muir, Diana Wynne Jones…

But honestly? I think most of my inspiration comes from the people I think fell short. Like… "Okay, you had a couple good ideas here and there, but the overall story is just… so disappointing. Let me see what I can do with these pieces."

Oh! One work that does fall on both sides of this fence is Final Fantasy IX. Its world manages to feel so incredibly real to me, and I love how it manages to maintain an incredibly personal and intimate tone for all of its characters, even as the plot builds to saving all of reality from the manifestation of entropy (not kidding, the "Not Alone" sequence that kicks off the third act still makes me tear up). But it still has shortcomings inherent to being a turn-of-the-century JRPG, and not all of its characters get all the narrative attention they deserve. But writing a story that I can conceive as an improved version of FF9 (whatever medium it winds up being) is probably my number one writing goal.

Which is worse: someone you "idolize" reading your first draft or listening to you sing?

Probably singing? I'm not horribly self-conscious about it - I did have some lessons once (a long time ago) - but I pretty much always want people to read my writing, if only to give me feedback on what they did like, and what I might do better.

Has writing from someone else's POV ever changed your own perspective?

…Not unexpectedly. I'll actually sometimes do a little bit of writing as an exercise specifically to explore certain points of view. So like… usually, if my mind changes due to writing from a particular character's POV, I started writing with the intent to see if my mind might change. Granted, that's pretty oversimplifying of the process, and mind-changing tends to be pretty gradual and slow, anyway, but…

Tumblr, AO3, LiveJournal, or FFN?

AO3 and Tumblr. I've been active on Tumblr for years, though I've only recently started writing on it. Meanwhile, I've been reading fic on AO3 for ages, and …very occasionally post stuff to it. …I really ought to post a new chapter to my Freyatrix fic, thinking about it…

AO3 wordcount, and are you satisfied with it?

3,744 and I'm not horribly stressed about it, but as I mentioned in the previous answer, I should see about maybe hitting 5k soon.

What movie/book/fic gripped you irrevocably?

Counting games under this.

Final Fantasy IX, as previously mentioned

Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones

The Last Unicorn

The Locked Tomb

The Fallen Gods series by S.D. Simper

Backwards to Oregon by Jae

Heaven Will Be Mine

The Clinch by Nicole Disney (specifically for teaching me to appreciate present tense narration, which I had previously been firmly opposed to)

Carmilla and all its adaptations and spin-offs

The Harrietta Lee series by Stephanie Ahn

A Memory Called Empire

the mountain of unfulfilled potential in Warcraft has haunted me since I started writing

and a whole host of honourable mentions that I'd be listing all night, if I started

There will also absolutely be two or three things I think of tomorrow that I'll be slapping myself for having forgotten, but... alas.

What’s the highest compliment you’ve ever been given, and have you been given it?

I can't think of any single compliment I've been given, but the number of times people have complimented the flow of my writing has stuck with me.

What defines your writing style?

I think it's that flow, again, mostly. Whether it's action or description, I have a feeling I have a fairly signature way of handling it. I think I also have a knack for maintaining characterization.

Gonna pull the "I'm still new here so don't yet know a lot of people, so all of my followers may consider themselves tagged, if they wish." thing again.

[alemonyoyo]

Reminders of the Princess <3

The petals are supposed to be reminiscent of Princess Kenny! So implied K2 I suppose, since i hardly ever draw for that ship-

Also I reverted back to an old style of lighting, it feels weird to use it again!

Finally, South Park art. I did it- I drew for South Park! You better like this, drawing in general has been really hard for me recently-

I tried some new things here. Rather than doing a full sketch of the drawing, I used brief guidelines and the last image (which normally would be my sketch) became my lineart. I think this made it look more fluid and dynamic, and less rigid and plain.

Art/General Rant- You don't have to read, I just need to get this out somehow-

Recently, I've been really, really unhappy with my art. I think if you've seen my posts often then it should be semi obvious. I don't exactly try to hid my distaste for it, though I know the whole world doesn't revolve around me, and it's not guaranteed that you've seen every self deprecating post about my art.

It's just very hard you know. I'm not all that old myself, but I'm definitely not young either, so nowadays, whenever I see people who I think have better art than I do, and they are younger than me, I can't help but just lose all motivation to ever continue. It's weird, because whenever the alternate happens, and I see gorgeous art created by people older than me, I only get more motivated to create and be like them. It's simple pettiness and feeling threatened that makes me feel the way I do about younger artists, and because of that, it's hard to feel fulfilled in my creations. Most of the time, I just block these artists. After all, it's better to stay out of conflict and jealousy, and blocking is the best way to do that. But some of these people are my friends who I have unfairly hinged a lot of my happiness on. And in turn, being around them in general, online or otherwise, makes me euphoric and both self hating all at once.

It's kinda for those reasons and more that I don't believe I have been truly happy as of recent. Like properly. If you asked me from 2 years ago how I felt, I'd say I was happy. Sure, I had *felt* sad but I wasn't *sad* overall. But now, ever since lockdown, this year at school, and everything mentioned above, this fact has flipped, and although I am capable of feeling happiness, it's in bursts shorter than what I need to keep going, and I've wanted to give up many times. Overall I'm sad my mood gets ruined, and drawing was once an outlet for whenever I felt this way, but for some reason my own expectations make me feel like it's no longer something for my frustrations, it's something I must be good at, but I'm not. I'm not good at it.

A broken record I might be, saying my art is bad. I'm sure it's annoying for the lovely people in my life who have told me otherwise, but from my perspective its all pitiable phrases said to ensure my esteem. I just can't believe it. And it feels worse hearing it weirdly enough. Which is so utterly stupid, and completely my fault for thinking that way.

A lot of this is due to my happiness hingeing on the many things which make me feel so bad, which makes my mood completely messed up and wild. Tumblr in itself is a big one for me. I am practically always on it if you've ever noticed, and the only time I'm not is when I'm asleep. It's one of the few things that gives me interaction, escapism and comfort. Yet it is also the source of a lot of my hatred, a teased negative passion, and jealousy. So I come on the sight, hoping to feel better, and only feel worse. So then I'll come back to the sight mere minutes later hoping to feel better.

And it's the same thing with many of my friends, who I talk till they're probably sick of me. I talk to them when I feel terrible, about whatever they want, but I always feel conscious that I talk about myself too much. And that and the factors above also contribute to this terrible feeling. I know in my heart they can't hate me, yet the lack of texting first and more convinces my heart otherwise. And so I have convinced myself that most people in general heat me for my overbearing nature and lack of development with my mental health, though I've tried to be better I don't know how.

I've tried to pursue things for better mental health, all things considered, I am one of the few people I know who has never reached out for proper help. Mostly because I have a brother who already does, and my family focuses on him and his problems more than me as I am the oldest, and although I communicate my struggles to them, they aren't really valued. And this lack of attention on that front makes me come on here and complain, yap my mouth like I'm doing right now to a vacant space. Make me hinge my happiness on people who have no idea I do so, and that every time their offline it makes me one inconvenience away from tears. I'm so weak now, I wish I could go back to pre-covid me.

Anyway back to art- I find no comfort in it, and its really hard to draw, especially for South Park. Recently, I've had a source of immense motivation for it (though, that will hopefully be revealed at a later date so stay tuned!) but drawing for it outside of that is quite difficult- I can't tell you what I hate about my art. I just do. I can't tell if it's the artstyle, the content, my technique and understanding, my posing etc. Which is why, if you have read this (insane- but I love you), please, just tell me what you hate about my art. It's really all I want to hear at this point, rather than people reassuring me my art is fine. Critique will help me get better after all- And it's easier to be harsh on people when online than it is to be nice (I'd know for sure heh) so go ahead. Please.

And thank you for reading,

[excelsi-or]

your type (pt. 6)

Hiiii friends, it’s only been like two weeks! Pretty good in terms of posting for me lol. I don’t know what it is about this story in particular, but I feel so self-conscious about posting new parts. But I’m also not someone who likes to leave things half finished.

I hope you’re all doing well :) 

BIPOC recs: I actually have a few! Two books: Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 - Cho Namjoo (basically follows a woman’s life in South Korea and all the micro-oppressive things that women face in their personal and career lives); Winners Take All - Anand Giridharadas (a non-fiction about how billionaires create such a disproportionate world for us all; I love listening to Anand’s talks about this subject. I find it fascinating). Music: Cross Country - Breland (excellent country song); Boyz II Men - Kirby (I love this woman’s energy)

w.c. 2.6k

pairing: jihoon x OC/reader

pt. 1; pt. 2; pt. 3; pt. 4; pt. 5

The summer semester has her in the research lab 8 hours a day. Luckily, Jihoon is also on campus for just as long. His professor got him a gig working on music for a few groups in various companies. It helps get his foot in the door, and while the deadlines are tight, he genuinely enjoys working.

They take their lunch breaks together, wandering the green or just wandering hallways if it’s too warm outside. But since he doesn’t have other classes, Jihoon’s been chatting with a few girls he’s met.

And he’s told her all about them, so she isn’t blindsided if someone else decides to share it with her.

“How was your date last night?” she asks at lunch.

Jihoon shrugs. The girl had come over since Seungcheol was at Jihyo’s. “She was whatever.”

She lifts an eyebrow, eating the sandwich that Seungkwan made for her lunch. She’s now taken to spending the night at Seungkwan and Hansol’s when Seungcheol visits.

Jihoon sighs. “Jiwoo was uninteresting.” When she has no response to this, he pouts. “She didn’t really have any opinions on anything, so we couldn’t find anything to talk about.”

“But you didn’t just go for dinner.”

“She was fine in bed.” Jihoon shrugs. “Didn’t really tell me what she liked, so hard to say how she felt about it.”

“Ahh.”

“What does that mean?”

She pops the rest of her sandwich in her mouth. “I don’t really know how to continue from that.”

Jihoon snorts. “Well, you’re the one who asked.”

She thinks for a minute. “Are you just saying she was uninteresting?” She kicks him lightly under the table. “Did you listen to her?”

“Of course I did!” Jihoon sips his coffee. “You said that I need to look at people more,” he makes a point of staring at her, “and to be aware of my body language because it comes off as standoffish.”

“And still?”

“All she talked about was her dog. I love talking about people’s dogs, but not for two hours.”

“Dinner was two hours?”

Jihoon shakes his head in frustration. “The kitchen kept getting the order wrong. Anyway, enough about my failed date, how’s your research going?” He pushes a napkin towards her.

She pulls out the pencil she was using to hold her hair up. Her hair cascades around her and she begins sketching out her reaction. While Jihoon hasn’t quite learned all the chemistry terminology, he recognizes various things, specifically the compounds she’s working on. She’d taught him some basics about catalytic testing, using drawings to help him follow along.

Multiple times she’s insisted that her research is really boring, especially for people who aren’t in science. But Jihoon likes listening to her talk, and her research lets her dominate the conversation. He asks questions and clarification, and she’s always great at simplifying things.

Jihoon has learned that her amazing attention to detail translates well to analyzing his songs. And she’s always very honest about the parts she likes and doesn’t like.

“I have some finished works I want your opinion on.” They start to clean up their table.

She glances up at him. “You don’t have a date tonight?”

Jihoon waits for her to fall into step with him. “I do, but I also have deadlines. So, if you’re not tired later, meet me in the studio?”

She waves goodbye to him. “I’ll let you know where I’m at.” She waits for him to exit the building before going to put her earphones in. As she’s heading to the stairs, she sees Seulgi heading towards her. They cross paths in the chemistry labs, but have never been on real speaking terms.

She smiles at Seulgi, about to go around her like normal, when the woman asks, “Are you and Jihoon dating?”

Despite her earphones in, she does hear the question. She turns. “Uhm, no.” She pauses and Seulgi says nothing. “Why?”

“I just…” Seulgi gives her a once over. “You seem too nice to be dating Jihoon.”

She’s taken aback by that observation. While Jihoon has given off the hot-cold vibe, player energy, and a slight lack of communication skills, she can’t say Jihoon’s ever warranted a comment like that. “We’re just…” She tries to come up with a word. “We’re just friends.”

“You’re smart.” Seulgi seems to mull something over. “But smart girls like you have fallen for his charm.”

“Like… you?”

“Once, but I’m not talking about me here. I’m talking about my friend.”

This piques her interest more than she wishes it did. Jihyo has warned her against listening to all these testimonials of women dating Jihoon.

“Maybe you just need to give the man a solid chance. If you’re gonna spend all your time with him anyway.”

Against Jihyo’s advice, she asks, “What happened to your friend?”

“Jihoon broke her heart. He doted on her and from the sounds of it, worshipped her, but then all of a sudden, he went cold. Stopped answering messages, stopped picking up the phone, avoiding her in the hallways. Then he said—”

“‘I’m ignoring you now, please leave me alone?’”

Seulgi tips her head. “Have you talked to Wendy?”

She runs her tongue along her bottom teeth. “No. I haven’t.”

“So how did you—?”

“I met another girl he’s dated. And… he’s a creature of habit, so… figured he’d say something similar.”

Seulgi hums. “Well, Wendy refuses to see any other man now. But she’s fine, mostly. We just can’t mention Jihoon around her. So, just…”

“Be careful?”

Seulgi chuckles. “So you’ve heard the warnings before?”

“A couple times.” Under her breath, she mutters, “Maybe I should heed them more.” She gives Seulgi a friendly nudge as she walks away. “Thanks for the warning.”

“Is everything okay?”

Jihoon received her text around 4:30, saying that she wasn’t feeling well and would go straight home after she was done in lab.

“Yeah, I’m just… I think I’m getting sick.”

She had seemed fine when he saw her.

“Okay, I’ll walk you home then.”

There’s a long pause. “I actually caught up with Taehyung, Jungkook’s boyfriend? He said he would walk me home.”

Jihoon turns in his chair at this odd development. “Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll… see you tomorrow then.”

“Bye.” Almost like an afterthought, she adds, “Sorry.”

Jihoon turns back to stare at the pieces of work he has open in the task bar that he wanted to show her. Instead, he closes them and goes back to work.

Time passes without him realizing. Before he knows it, it’s time for him to meet up with Ara. He glances at the clock, thinking.

Jihoon (19:14)

Meet me at the gym?

Jihoon (19:14)

Hey, don’t think I’ll be able to make it tonight. Caught a cold.

Soonyoung (19:15)

Sure. See you in 10.

Mingyu (19:15)

I’m in.

Ara (19:15)

If I didn’t know better, I’d assume you have another woman in mind.

But okay.

Get well soon, babe.

True to their word, Mingyu and Soonyoung meet him at the gym near their homes. Soonyoung leads the way inside and they go stretch while Jihoon disappears to change.

When he reemerges, Mingyu asks him what’s wrong.

“She cancelled on me.”

“Who?” Soonyoung is stretching on his right.

Jihoon crosses his right arm across his body, feels the stretch in his upper delt and across his arm. He updates them on what’s happened in the last 7 hours, from lunch, to her saying she’s sick, to Ara.

Mingyu frowns. “I didn’t realize you two were still going on dates. I thought you’d already gotten to the… dating part of dating.”

“Wait,” Soonyoung seems to realize something, “are you seeing other women right now? We cannot win this bet unless you commit!”

Mingyu observes Jihoon in the mirror. He has a dazed look in his eye, as if he’s thinking hard about something. “You actually like her.” He turns to Jihoon. “You’re genuinely upset that she didn’t come to the studio.”

Jihoon wasn’t really frowning before, but he is now. “No. I’m not.”

“Wonwoo hyung said that he thought you were seeing other women again.” Mingyu turns back to the mirror. “I said that couldn’t be possible, because you don’t like to lose.”

“Can we just work out?” His tone is harsh, but his friends hear a small plea in there too. They exchange looks over Jihoon’s head and shrug.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Soonyoung nudges him towards the free weights.

It isn’t until after their gym session on their way home that Soonyoung and Mingyu begin grilling him.

“Are you seeing other women right now?” Mingyu asks.

“Well…” Jihoon adjusts his bag on his shoulder. “Yeah.”

Soonyoung and Mingyu’s jaws drop.

“Dude. The bet.” Soonyoung gives him a push. “What if she finds out?”

Jihoon watches his feet move beneath him. “She already knows.”

“She knows? And she still goes out with you?” Mingyu demands. “Are you guys just friends?”

Soonyoung groans in frustration. “Seriously, Jihoon, bets are serious business. We went all in on this bet. You can’t just let Seokmin win a bet like this.”

“What happened, hyung?”

The question seems to release something in Jihoon. He throws his hands up in frustration. “I don’t know. I really don’t. She just… holds herself at a distance from me. I can’t seem to…” He makes grabbing motions in the air. “Get anything out of her.” He shakes his head. “Maybe we should just give up here. I don’t know if I can win this bet.”

“Yah!” Soonyoung throws an arm around his shoulders. He squeezes his arm. “I am not losing to Seokmin and Seungkwan on a bet that I know that we can win. You are the best at this.”

“She’s just as good at keeping me at a distance. And apparently she’s also had men castrated before.”

Mingyu and Soonyoung blink in surprise at the sudden information.

“Okay, well, we’re not going to let that happen to you,” Mingyu states.

Soonyoung agrees. “But you’re going to have to start pulling out al your moves. You—”

Jihoon shakes his head. “Listen to me. I have been at this since February. The girl won’t even let me kiss her.”

Mingyu scoffs. “You haven’t even kissed her yet? You guys are just friends.”

Soonyoung holds a hand up in Mingyu’s face. “You are not being encouraging.” He readjusts his grip around Jihoon. “Look. We’ll help you then. Lee Jihoon doesn’t tap out like this.”

“You said she canceled on you.” Mingyu tips his chin in Jihoon’s direction. “Why?”

“She said she was sick and found someone else to walk her home.”

Soonyoung’s eyes widen. He releases his grip on Jihoon to get a better look at his face. “That’s it?”

Jihoon scowls. “Did I not tell you that I haven’t even kissed her yet? I eat lunch with her every day and then I walk her home.”

“Are we in the 1700s? What the fuck?” Mingyu demands.

“I can’t work out what makes her tick. She tells me stuff about herself, but nothing I can use. All I’ve learned is that she’s one of the smartest people I know, reads a lot, paints, and can give me actual feedback on my music.”

“Oh, come on, that can’t be all you’ve learned.”

Jihoon sighs, racking his brain for more information. There are obviously little things he’s noticed, like that she drinks a shit ton of water; that when she thinks something’s amusing, she lets out a little breath of laughter; or that she presses down on her fingers with her thumbs when she’s nervous. But he can’t share these things. They aren’t useful.

“I’ve learned she hasn’t really dated anyone since Byunggu. That she doesn’t even count that guy as a boyfriend so Jungkook is the last man she dated.”

“Byunggu… why do I know that name?” Soonyoung looks to Mingyu.

“Because he’s the guy who’s either been threatened, murdered or castrated,” Jihoon grumbles.

Soonyoung waves him off. “No.” He reaches behind Jihoon to hit Mingyu’s arm. “Isn’t he that guy who debuted last year?”

Mingyu’s brow furrows.

“He stopped coming to parties because he was filming some show or something, remember?” He pushes Mingyu, as if that will jog his memory. “He was one of your girls’ friends. Remember? She wouldn’t stop talking about him? That’s why you dumped her?”

“Oh! Yeah!” Mingyu pulls his phone out and looks something up. When he turns the phone to Jihoon, Jihoon squints at an article about this man who is currently doing small roles in various dramas. He doesn’t recognize the face. But until this point, he’d never seen any photos of this elusive ex. A debut would explain why he disappeared into thin air.

“What am I supposed to do with this information?” Jihoon pushes the phone away. “She clams up as soon as he comes up.”

“Okay, okay. Forget trying to replicate the men of the past.” Soonyoung says. “Just… be you.”

Jihoon stares at him in disbelief. “She doesn’t like me.”

“She must, because she’s spent a lot of time with you, hyung.” Mingyu sips from his water bottle. “Noona only gives certain people her time, if you haven’t noticed. Her girls, Hansol, Seungkwan, Wonwoo hyung these days.” He shrugs. “If you’re spending so much time with her, she likes you at least a little bit.”

Jihoon bites his tongue, annoyed that they’re right. “I’m only going to give this another month. If I can’t get this girl into my bed, then there’s no way she’s going to say ‘I love you’ first.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” Jihyo asks.

The two roommates are having a night in, watching a movie but talking the entire time with take out on the table.

She came home looking preoccupied, so Jihyo forced her to put on her pajamas, pick what sort of take out they would eat, and to bundle up on the couch. Then she forced her roommate to tell her what was wrong.

“I don’t know. Do you think it’s a sign that two different women have told me I should be careful?” She pouts. “I don’t want to feel like I need to tread carefully.”

“I don’t know what Jihoon was like with those other girls, but he likes you. I know what a guy looks like when all he wants is to get you into his bed. That look on Jihoon’s face when he sees you is pure adoration.”

She carefully breaks apart a cookie before popping a piece into her mouth. “If anything, Jihoon’s just a friend.”

“A friend who adores you. Who you also seem to like.” Jihyo nudges her with the back of her hand. “You can’t go around thinking every boy is going to hurt you like Byunggu.”

“I don’t think that. Why would I think that if I don’t even give them a chance to try?”

Jihyo snorts, both amused and frustrated. “Jihoon is putting in the effort with you. You didn’t even give him your number for like a month and a half. And he still made it work.”

“I did that to keep him away from me.” She rolls her eyes, a slight smile on her face. “So, thanks for helping him out with that.”

“You still hang out with him.”

“You know, he’s seeing other girls now.”

Jihyo pauses. “Really?”

“He tells me about them. He had a date yesterday. He has one tonight.” She shakes her head. “I think it’s just better for me if we stay friends.” She notices Jihyo on her phone. “What are you doing now?”

“Asking Cheollie if Jihoon’s home.” Jihyo turns her phone her way, grinning. Seungcheol had sent a picture of Jihoon next to him on the couch. The two seem to be playing video games. “Give the man a chance. You don’t know what kind of boyfriend he can be if you don’t.”

[highdwightofmylife]

hi! just wanted to say i binged like 90% of your hc posts and i LOVE your writing! if it's not a bother, may i request some soft hcs of baby dweet being insecure for some reason (y'know, as dweets be) and all the other survs rushing to compliment / cheer him up bc he's a handsome good boi

Thank you so so much, that means a lot to me! I admit I still get really self-conscious and flustered when people say they’ve spent so much time looking through my things, but it’s nice to hear that you enjoy them! I normally only do Character/Reader stuff but I’ll make an exception here because I absolutely adore my Dweet : ) thanks for requesting!

Dwight Being Insecure Baby

Okay. We all know he’s an absolute baby boy who deserves to be protected at all costs. 

He’s nervous and anxious and he wants to help everyone out so hard.

He’s better at controlling his nerves in trials. The threat of death seems to put his anxiety on the back burner and his inner leader usually manages to come out. But in the fog? Around the campfire? There’s no danger. Nothing to distract himself with. He gets incredibly self-conscious and thinks extremely little of himself, and tends to just... Sit quietly. He doesn’t want to bother anyone. 

But the other survivors will be damned if they just let him stew in his own anxieties for hours on end. They’re all mostly aware that he’s anxious and insecure, but they’ll treat him differently depending on who they are.

Claudette takes a soft approach, just sitting with him and calmly talking about, well... Anything and everything. She gets distracted easily and the conversation will fluctuate a lot, but Dwight likes it. She’ll just smile and talk about everything and Dwight will offer his thoughts every now and then. She distracts him from himself. 

Jane calls him all sorts of pet names. Handsome, cutie, honey. It’s all said in a very motherly way and it flusters him every time, but she says it so much that he’s stopped immediately denying it. He’ll just go red and pout and she’ll smile at him, thankful he’s accepting it. 

David likes to playfully fight with him and insult him, but the insults are always somehow actually compliments and it takes Dwight a few seconds to even catch on. Sarcastic, “oh, I’m sorry, I ain’t as nice and canny’ as you Fairfield.” 

Ace: “look at you. a strapping young lad. you’re doin fine, don’t worry about it.” Honestly, just, occasional reassurances. “Now would I be flirting with you if you weren’t an absolute delight?” He’ll joke, and Dwight will go slightly red but he’ll laugh and, “you flirt with everything that moves, so probably.” 

Jeff drew Dwight once on a scrap bit of paper and Dwight absolutely treasures it. Literally just. Jeff calmly sat down beside him and casually handed over the loose page like, “you’re the only one sitting still enough to sketch, hope you don’t mind.” And Dwight doesn’t like himself by any means but to see that Jeff took the time to do it, and the fact that the rough pencil lines are him, it’s absolutely surreal. He doesn’t have a mirror in the fog but he has this drawing, and when he looks at it, he thinks... Maybe he’s not so bad. (Also important to note that Dwight tried to return the favour and gave Jeff a really messy doodle of a bee that he was REALLY self conscious about giving but Jeff thinks it’s the fucking cutest thing and he keeps it in a wallet he has jammed into his back pocket).

When he’s particularly down, some of the other survivors are pretty good at telling it. Laurie seems to be the first one to catch on at any given time, and she’ll usually have the instinct to go sit with him. Just chill out with him, try and distract him from whatever he’s thinking. But she won’t harass him to talk about his problems. She’s there to distract him from them, not bring them out. 

Once he actually confessed to Ash that he was feeling insecure and then Ash laughed but then very surprisingly, his voice lowered with a sigh and, “me too buddy.” And for some reason the thought that Ash, a very charismatic and chill guy could ever feel insecure was an absolute relief and sometimes he reminds himself that he’s not the only one that ever feels like this.

[drawlfoy]

Drawn to You (cheesy but i refuse to change it)

masterlist request guidelines requests are open!

pairing: draco x ravenclaw!reader (finally! my first ravenclaw reader!)

request: yes! i’m pairing two together, kind of...if you requested the draco x ravenclaw reader without any other plot specifications other than him being jealous, this one is kind of for you. i didn’t know how to fit the jealousy part in, but you sounded thrilled to have anything ravenclaw and this was next on my list and i didn’t know what to write since i had no other plot points. also...the person who sent this request in, this is for you as well! it’s getting out much sooner than expected, but that’s just because i’m combining.

summary: draco notices a ravenclaw girl doodling him in class and decides to confront her.

warnings: none! just sweet fluff, maybe some cursing.

a/n: oof i’m so sorry for not posting anything for a while! i’ve been going through a rough introspective moment in my life when it comes to my relationship and i feel like i’m on the verge of a breakup and i just kinda feel shitty, so that’s why i’m not writing as much as i should be. i’ll be okay, though, i have no doubt about it. if you have words of wisdom i’m all ears haha. also shoutout to my laptop for deleting the draft of this and making me rewrite the whole thing LOL

music recs: orpheus under the influence from the buttertones

word count: 1,812

taglist: @accio-rogers

Umbridge was a horrible teacher, even when she wasn’t acting bigoted and racist. Her classroom was so soulsuckingly boring that even her Slytherin pets found themselves tired of it. 

So, naturally, as Umbridge instructed the students to copy down a passage from their blasted textbook three times, Draco Malfoy couldn’t help but let his eyes wander across the room.

He was always an efficient writer and made quick work of the task, but as he scanned the room, he found that no one else was in the same boat as he was. He ran his fingers through his hair, already drafting the letter that he’d send his father when he got back to the dorms about how Umbridge sucked the life out of every class and that the ministry ought to do something about it. His father would find something to do to make her treat students, or at the very least, Slytherin students, better.

The back of his neck tingled, like someone was watching him. Draco’s eyes shot around the room, trying to see if another pair of eyes were trained on him. 

There. 

It was a brief moment, but he had seen a girl with Y/H/C hair duck her head down at the table by the door. Looking closer, he could see a blue and bronze tie around her neck. The girl was wearing her uniform, but it looked slightly tampered with--a brooch and a flower were attached to her lapels and a midnight blue scrunchie resided on her wrist. 

Ah, he knew who it was. He had never spoken directly to Y/N Y/L/N before (he was never close to any Ravenclaws), but he often saw her floating through the halls, conversing quietly but passionately with her friends at meals, and curled intently over what he thought was a journal in the library. She had a slightly dreamy vibe, but not in the loony Luna fashion...it just seemed as though she looked at everything around her through a different, more delicate lens.

Draco knew he needed to stop observing her like a creep, but there was something off about the Ravenclaw. She was intently focusing on a piece of parchment in front of her, but her textbook was forgotten and pushed off to the side.

She swiftly glanced up again, meeting his eyes and freezing for a moment. A soft rose began blooming on her cheeks as she tried to nonchalantly scan the room, pretending like she wasn’t just looking at him. After she seemed satisfied, she ducked back down to whatever she was working on.

Then it hit him. Her hand was moving in methodical but varied strokes and she often spun the parchment to regard it at a new angle. Draco realized that she wasn’t writing--no, she was drawing something. 

He leaned forward in his chair, attempting to catch a glimpse of the picture. His tries were in vain, however, as he was much too far away to make out anything.

Draco was overtaken by an intense curiosity to know what she was drawing, and in typical Slytherin fashion, he had a plan. 

Raising his hand, he asked Umbridge if he could go to the loo. She quickly granted permission--he was one of her favorite students, after all. 

He rose up from his chair, carefully maneuvering his path so he would be forced to walk past Y/N’s table to get to the door. The girl was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t even hear him approaching.

However, once he saw what she was drawing, his previous swagger and slyness crawled into a hole and died, instead leaving him frozen with shock.

Y/N’s careful hand was meticulously adding eyelashes to a sketch of him leaning over his own textbook and writing, as he had been doing just minutes before. Picture Draco’s eyes were narrowed in gentle concentration, her handiwork capturing the intelligent glimmer in his eyes just perfectly. A piece of hair hung over his forehead, just barely tickling his brow. 

Suddenly self conscious, Draco reached his hand up to feel his forehead, and sure enough, a stray hair lay there. 

She had done a really good job. It was almost as if she had taken a picture and pressed it into the parchment, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

The sudden rustling of his robes jolted Y/N out of her trance, and just as she was beginning to look up at Draco, he bolted off, his mind racing even faster than his feet.

♥♥♥♥

“You’ve got an admirer, Y/N!” Melanie, a fellow Ravenclaw, giggled into her ear. 

“Huh!” Y/N responded, looking up from her dinner plate.

“Yeah, look over at the Slytherin table, you’ll see.” The blonde shoved her shoulder playfully, motioning with her head. 

Y/N raked her eyes up and down the table, not seeing anyone in particular, until she stopped at the very end of it. 

Draco Malfoy’s eyes were unnervingly bore into hers from across the hall, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Are you sure he’s admiring me, Melanie?” Y/N quipped, nervous amusement creeping into her tone. “He looks like he’s going to skin me alive instead.”

Melanie shrugged, spearing a roasted carrot on her fork. 

“You never know with those Slytherins. They’re so unpredictable. One day they’re all over you, the next...” Melanie sighed, and Y/N had a feeling that her friend was no longer offering advice, rather sharing her own personal experience with one Pansy Parkinson. 

“I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve to be treated like that,” Y/N comforted, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You’re more than someone to experiment around with, and you’re gonna find your person one day!” 

They were silent for a few moments.

“Speaking of finding people,” Melanie said, “Where did Draco go?”

Y/N looked over to where he had been sitting moments before, only to see his seat vacant. The Slytherin table looked oddly empty without their token head of silvery blonde hair. 

She only had a few moments to wonder before a throat cleared behind her. Spinning around, Y/N was greeted with the sight of a rather flustered looking Draco Malfoy.

“Er... hey, Malfoy, can I help you?” Y/N cringed at how professional she sounded, like a saleswoman welcoming him into a store.

He cleared his throat again. 

“Yeah, can I talk to you for a second?” He stayed stationary, his eyes flickering nervously and refusing to meet hers. “Alone, if that’s alright?”

Y/N shot Melanie a what the fuck look and received an identical one back before standing up. 

“Sure, where do you want to go?”

♥♥♥♥

Y/N followed the Slytherin out of the Great Hall and to a quiet corridor, all the while wondering what was wrong. Draco had never spoken directly to her, and while she’d always admired him from afar, she never imagined them having a conversation. Maybe he had seen her drawing him?

She pushed the thought away. There was no chance.

“Let’s sit here.” Draco’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts as he motioned to an empty staircase. 

They sat down, leaving a healthy few inches between them. Draco fiddled with his robes as Y/N picked at her fingernail polish, justifying her actions by reminding herself that they were chipped anyways.

“What’s up?” Y/N finally asked, breaking the awkward silence. 

“Well, I, er, noticed something in class today that I wanted to speak to you about,” Draco said. 

Were his hands shaking?

Y/N had no more time to wonder as the truth of the matter hit her. Of course he had seen the sketch of him in DADA. She had thought she was sly about it, but there was no other reason for him to be talking to her.

Recognizing the realization displayed on her face, Draco leaned a bit closer.

“It was a beautiful drawing, by the way,” he informed her softly. “But I’m sure you already knew that.” 

“I’m sorry,” Y/N blurted. “I know that I should’ve asked first. That was super creepy of me to do. I swear I’m not some sort of stalker...her class is just so--”

“Boring?” Draco cut in, one eyebrow raising in amusement. “Yeah, I know. And it’s alright...I just want to know why you did it.”

Y/N froze, another blush creeping up on her already hot cheeks.

“I don’t know, I was bored, and you were in good lighting,” she lied, hoping he wouldn’t notice. 

“Why didn’t you sketch Goyle or Crabbe? They were next to the window with me,” Draco pushed, bumping her shoulder and making her suck in a quick breath. 

“I...er....I just do whatever my inner artist desires,” she responded lamely. “You just looked so focused, and your hair is really fun to draw, so...”

She stopped herself before she could let anything else slip out.

“Oh, so you’ve done it before?” he teased, an infuriatingly calm smirk forming on his lips. 

“None of your business,” she grumbled, breaking the eye contact and scooting away from him.

Draco waited a few painful seconds before shifting the same distance closer to her. 

“I don’t want to upset you,” he said truthfully. “I honestly think it’s cute.”

Y/N blushed again, resting her face in her hand to try and hide the evidence. 

“You don’t think it’s creepy?”  she asked, cautiously meeting his eyes. 

“No, how could I?” he answered, mirroring her actions. “I’m flattered, truly.” 

She allowed herself to smile shyly at him.

“Thank you for understanding, Draco, I appreciate it.” She let the words hang out in the air for a few moments before finishing. “I should really head back to my friends though, they’re going to start to get worried.” 

Draco smiled too, a rare break from his snarky facial expressions. Y/N made a mental note to recreate the exact scene in her sketchbook as well. 

“I know, me being a Slytherin and all,” he agreed. “Your friends are probably seconds away from telling Dumbledore that you’ve been kidnapped and murdered.”

“We really don’t think you’re that bad,” Y/N soothed. “They’d only assume kidnapping. They don’t think you’re cut out for murder.” 

Draco looked like he was about to argue, but he shut his mouth and grinned. 

“Well, Y/N, I’m glad I got to finally talk to you,” he said as he stood up, offering his hand to her.

“Me too,” she admitted, taking his hand. “I’ve got to be off now, but if you’d like, I can give you the sketch.” 

Draco was positively glowing. 

“I would say yes,” he began, “but then I’d lose my excuse to talk to you.”

Y/N’s heart stopped. She would’ve clasped her hands together as an anxious movement if she wasn’t clutching one of Draco’s.

“So what do you propose then?” she pressed, only stumbling over her words a little bit. 

“I hear Hogsmeade has even better lighting than Umbridge’s classroom.”

final a/n: woah this request was adorable and i’m in love with the person who sent it in tysm. also did not edit this and i don’t have any beta readers so i apologize for any glaring plot holes/mistakes. let me know what you thought of it!!

[joemuggs]

Pirate Material: Still Original

Saw some discussion of The Streets’s early work, and went to see if this article was still online - it’s not because the Vice brand partnership vertical (I’m sorry) that it was originally written for is gone. So here you go again!

I don't hold with the insidious theory that making brilliant art is a young man's game – or, in the words of Sickboy in Trainspotting, that “you have it, then you lose it”. It's a trope that's been with us since the beginning of rock'n'roll, dammit since the romantic poets, that idea that inspiration is intrinsically tied up with the energy of youth, that great works come like a bolt from the blue and artists are best off dying young1 rather than chasing round in ever-decreasing circles trying to relight your creative fire the rest of your sorry life. But it's clearly rubbish, a denial of craft and labour, put about by fantasists and advertisers and used as justification by those with a vested interest in keeping us emotionally immature and by the worst kind of poseurs for their ghastly Peter Pan antics.

Every so often, though, something I see or hear will make me think again – will make me have a flickering moment of belief in the essential white light of youthful creativity. And 'Original Pirate Material' is one of those things. I mean, have you heard it recently? Really heard it? Played it loud from the beginning, given it your full attention, let that utterly insane opening salvo of 'Turn the Page', 'Has it Come to This' and 'Let's Push Things Forward' work their magic on you? It's arm-hair raising stuff, it really is. The false hierarchies and dreary consensus of best-ever lists is another of those things I don't hold with, but yeah this really, really deserved to be on all those best-of-the-2000s lists, and I will gladly fight its corner against the Arctic Monkeys, Dizzee, Radiohead, Outkast, whatever you care to bring in fact.

Like almost all the best music, I didn't really get it at first. It was tinny-sounding and clattery, where I was used to dance music's oomph; I couldn't work out what Skinner's roaming accent was getting at as he slipped and slid across the rhythms, in and out of ordinary conversational cadence, lurching from sublime to ridiculous within single phrases. It was intriguing right enough, but it was impossible to shake the idea that it was all a bit contrived, an indie-weakened version of soundsystem/MC culture, or even more naggingly the idea that it was a wind-up, that this music was taking the piss out of all of us. Lines nicked from 'Gladiator' and talk about his Reeboks? Be serious. And then I had the epiphany.

The scene couldn't have been set better, really. I was out in Amsterdam for eight days on my first ever magazine feature assignment – to cover a conference on Amazon shamanic practice AND a High Times convention. I'd been hanging out with psychonauts, ravers, witch doctors2 and Dutch farmers, and experienced the best that ancient cultures and modern science had to offer; I was in a terrific mood as I was finally doing the job I'd always wanted to, and had been able to utter the immortal phrase “can I claim my ritual on expenses3, please?” on the phone to the Face magazine office. So when someone mentioned “that new band The Streets are playing the Melkweg” I was pretty much up for it.

The DJ beforehand, a Dutchman called Big Head, was playing what was generally known as “breakstep”, a kind of funky uncle to dubstep, and I liked it so much I bought his mix CD4. The Streets were very late coming on, but the crowd were raving and so was I, so who cared? When they did crash onto the stage, though, Skinner immediately and repeatedly asking the crowd if anyone had any cocaine, it was a glorious disruption of the groove, their sound spiky and awkward, and from the beginning I loved it. I don't remember a lot about the band except there was an ex-member of the Senseless Things5 on bass, and that Skinner and his co-vocalist spent a lot of the set pushing, shoving and trying to trip one another up.

And that's when it clicked into place: yes, this was a piss-take, but it was a deadly serious piss-take. This child-like 24-year-old was not just meandering between voices, themes and levels of seriousness, he was embodying every single one of them. He was a shaman too6. What was chaos and what was control became impossible to discern7. The only time I could remember seeing elemental clowning like this before on a stage was the Happy Mondays back in 1990, but I also recognised the spirit of so many loony rave urchins I'd been bamboozled and bantered at and had lighters stolen by over the years8, the never-ending babble of these Shakespearean monkeys, possessed by the endless power of the English language to spin out shaggy dog stories, to make jokes of the most serious matters and suddenly turn jokes deathly serious. The films that were projected as back stories to each of the tracks matched the quotidian urban subject matter of those songs – but they, like the lyrics and the music, revealed something so much more primal beneath. And still you could dance, laugh, drink and carouse to it.

Which is why, when I listen to 'Original Pirate Material' now, I don't hear “bloke poetry” or grittiness or mundanity or social realism any of those other things that are inevitably reeled out. I hear constant windows in to the most profound and abstracted of human instincts and experiences: vertigo, jealousy, transition, glory, loss, innocence and so much more. Just listen to the sudden swerves from domestic detail to dizzying generality in 'It's Too Late' or the affirmation and melancholy in 'Weak Become Heroes': these are about so, so much more than losing a girl or doing a pill9. They're about being human. Only years later did I start realising that Skinner was writing in a great English language tradition going a millennium back to Beowulf and taking in Sterne, Carroll, Lear, Pound, Spike Milligan, Ivor Cutler, Mark E Smith and Roots Manuva10, gibbering gobshites and bullshit artists, holy fools who could skip wildly into parts of our psyches where angels fear to tread.

He could never top this, could he? None of this is to dismiss Skinner's later work – he has on occasion made some glorious music and told some great tales since, and especially on 'Computers and Blues' when he turned full circle back to some of his early themes and freeform lyricism he showed he was tapped into the same wellspring – but 'Original Pirate Material' had it all. Everything afterwards, whether it's his narratives of modern life and celebrity, or his more philosophical turns, couldn't help but be self-conscious, trying to impose more structure onto what he had already expressed so perfectly in its rants, sketches, jokes and asides. This isn't about drugs, it's not about  “authenticity”11, and it's not really about youth as such – others have tapped into this very British, very mongrel method of accessing the ways of the human mind from very different places and perspectives – but for Skinner it was all tied into a particular openness to everything that comes with being a hungry young man with his eyes (very) wide open.

--

1 See the infamous “27 Club”, much discussed when Amy Winehouse carked it, and so called because it's the number of times anyone who takes it seriously deserves to have their face walloped with a cricket bat.

2 To be precise, a shaman from the Shuar tribe of Ecuador who played the Jew's harp.

3 Yes, bloggers, these were the days when journalists got paid expenses. They were decadent times, the early 00s.

4 In fact it is sitting on my desk right now, and it still sounds good.

5 You think nonsense genre names like “Post Dubstep” or indeed “Breakstep” are silly? Back in the 90s, The Senseless things were lumped, along with Mega City 4 and Silverfish into a genre called Fraggle Rock. Seriously.

6 No Jew's harp though, just a microphone.

7 You want to know how giddy with the brilliance of it all I was feeling at that moment? My brain flashed up the image of Stockard Channing going “chaos... control... chaos... control... you like?” to Will Smith as Donald Sutherland spun a double-sided Kandinsky in 'Six Degress of Separation'. And what? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BjwiachXkjc

8 One routine about fake vs real Nike caps that managed to weave in and out of between-song patter for almost the entire set was such archetypal rave bollocks that you'd swear you'd heard it before from someone who was about to do you out of a tenner at some party on a hillside.

9 They're about those things too, though.

10 Peter Ackroyd's 'Albion: the Origins of the English Imagination' is the book you need on this topic, although admittedly he doesn't get right the way through to Roots Manuva.

11 There's no such thing.

[komorebirei]

The Water Was Never Afraid - Chapter 13: Dare

(AO3)

“I have a confession,” Adrien blurted out.

Kagami lifted her head from his shoulder. They were sitting on her bed, and she had been watching him pet her calico cat, Goro. Befitting to his name, he was sitting on Adrien’s lap, rumbling up a storm.

“What?”

“I got fitted for a photoshoot today,” he stated casually.

“Oh? So you’re starting modeling again?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

The air was filled with only the sound of purring for a good chunk of time while Adrien pondered how much he should say.

“Why is that a confession?” Kagami asked.

“I haven’t gotten to the confession part yet,” Adrien hedged.

Kagami stared at his profile, and he focused on stroking the smooth fur on the sides of Goro’s face, scratching him under the chin.

Now that he had alluded to it, he had no choice but to say something.

“It’s for Marinette’s feature in the Style Queen.”

Kagami gave him a suspicious look. “That’s great for her. But I still don’t get why this is a confession.”

“I, um…” The way Adrien had felt while Marinette was fitting him made him feel guilty. He figured the one-sided knowledge of his moment of vulnerability with her as Chat Noir had just made things weird at that moment, but he feared that wasn’t all it was. Maybe what Chloé had said at the soirée had affected him more than he thought. Whatever the reason, the way he saw Marinette had shifted.

He wanted to admit it to Kagami and come clean. He’d tell her that he had no intention of doing anything and was going to steer clear of Marinette at work, once this photoshoot was over. That was a healthy and mature way of handling this, right? Full disclosure. If he could tell her, it didn’t have to mean anything, right?

But, did he dare? Telling Kagami might put a strain on their relationship. She might break up with him. Their friendship might never be the same again. She might develop a grudge against Marinette. He could think of a dozen possible consequences of telling Kagami, and none of them were good.

Except the glimmer of possibility that she would appreciate his honesty and they would grow stronger because of it.

Her scrutinizing eyes pierced him, and he felt like he could hide nothing from her. Better to tell her and apologize before she could figure out herself that he had some kind of feelings for Marinette and feel betrayed.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words he wanted to say wouldn’t come out.

“I know you don’t want me spending time with Marinette,” he said, as if that were the confession. “I just wanted you to know what I was doing, so you wouldn’t find out some other way and be hurt. The photoshoot is on Wednesday, and she’ll be directing.”

Coward. You are a coward, Adrien Agreste.

Kagami reached out and stroked back a lock of hair that had fallen out of place on his forehead. “Adrien, I never said I didn’t want you spending time with her. If it’s for work, why would I mind?” She smiled. “Thank you for telling me, though.”

Adrien gave her a crooked smile back while his stomach twisted in knots. He pulled her in with one arm and planted a kiss on her head. “Thanks for understanding, Tiger.”

“Just returning the favor.”

“Hm?”

“You always understood me better than other people.” Kagami settled her head back on Adrien’s upper arm and reached out to bury her fingers in Goro’s side. His purrs reverberated in Adrien’s lap.

Adrien looked at her quizzically.

“My life has always been straightforward—make it to the top, no compromises. Ever since I was young, my mother taught me that if I considered others too much, I would end up yielding and showing weakness, even losing my position. She taught me to develop a tough skin so I wouldn’t feel guilty pushing others down to come out on top.”

Adrien rested his cheek on the top of her head, hearing her out before making any comment.

“When we first met, I lost to you, but you gave me a second chance. You saw how devastating the loss would be for me, and you spared me from disgrace. I never told you how much that meant to me.”

“… Oh.”

“You showed me that having compassion for others doesn’t always make you the weaker person. It changed my perspective… so, even though I tease you for being so nice to people, it’s actually something I admire about you, and it makes me want to change.” She smiled up at him.

Adrien melted at her words. She had never admitted as much to him before. He had honestly thought that she hated that aspect of his personality. He kissed her nose affectionately and ran a thumb along her freckled cheek.

“So,” Kagami continued, “I’ll admit, you’re right. I’m a little jealous of Marinette, and I don’t entirely believe that you never had feelings for her…”

A needle of guilt pricked Adrien’s heart.

“… so naturally, I don’t want you to spend time with her. But, I know you’re friends, and she means something to you. I know you want to help her. So, I’m going to respect that. I trust you.”

“Thanks, Kagami,” Adrien breathed, and Goro protested with a mewl as he stopped petting him to pull her close in a tight embrace.

—

The next day, Adrien had another fitting with Marinette to check the modifications, but this time, he was prepared. He was strictly professional with her and didn’t touch on any unnecessary topics of conversation. The fitting passed quickly and without incident, and Adrien went on with his day.

“Maybe I’m getting worked up about nothing,” Adrien mused, sinking into his desk chair and switching on his computer.

Plagg phased out of Adrien’s shirt to land behind a succulent pot, visible to Adrien but hidden from prying eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, I’ve been seeing her a lot lately, more than usual. Isn’t it natural to be thinking about her?”

“You’re talking about Bakery Girl again?”

Plagg’s observation made Adrien feel self-conscious. Had he been talking about her a lot recently? “I was just worried…” Adrien trailed off. Plagg would tease, and he wasn’t in the mood.

“Worried about what?”

“Fine. I was worried that I might actually like her that way. But I’m probably just working myself up by worrying about it.” He opened his email and perused the inbox for urgent matters.

Plagg shrugged tiny shoulders. “You surely wouldn’t have to think about it so hard if you felt nothing for her.”

“I don’t feel nothing, Plagg. She’s my friend.” Adrien thought about the time he had dropped in on her while she was putting together her ‘Inspiration Book,’ and how comfortable it was to just chat with her and hang out. “Oh! That reminds me…”

On a whim, he pulled out his phone and opened Marinette’s instagram, @TheRealMDC.

“Oh~ho. You’re stalking her now?”

“No,” Adrien emphasized. “She said she had an account where she posts her designs, so I’m looking for it. Detective work, not stalking.”

Her personal account clearly wasn’t it. There were no drawings—only selfies of Marinette with her friends and some random artsy pictures—a few of her balcony plants during the daytime, outfits, macarons.

He tapped a picture of Marinette wearing an above-the-knee bright yellow circle skirt, paired with a half-sleeved cropped shirt with broad black and white stripes that showed off her trim waist, and tomato red shoes. The colors reminded him a little of Chloé, though the style was quintessentially Marinette. She was posing outdoors in the Jardin des Tuileries, so she must have had a friend take the photo. She would have made a cute model.

“Looks an awful lot like stalking to me,” Plagg said right next to Adrien’s ear, making him jump in surprise.

“I like her outfit!” he insisted. “I work in the fashion industry, I am allowed to appreciate stylish clothing! Plus, it’s not stalking if she challenged me to find her!”

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Plagg quoted Hamlet, polishing his whiskers.

Adrien rolled his eyes, pressed ‘back,’ and opened Marinette’s list of followers. He typed in the word ‘design’ to see if anything would come up. The list of results was so long he had to scroll. Duh, of course Marinette would be following a bunch of design accounts.

“What about that daredevil reporter girl?” Plagg suggested.

Right, Alya. Adrien pulled up her account and searched her follower list for the keyword ‘design.” Only one account came up: @DottyDesigner. He snorted at the pun—especially appropriate if this was Marinette, since polka dot patterns featured prominently in her designs.

Adrien tapped to view the profile, to be rewarded with hundreds of illustrations of various outfits. When he clicked on one, a swipe revealed the finished outfit on a dress form. These were interspersed with random sketches not paired with finished pieces.

From what Adrien had seen of Marinette’s illustration style, this was it. His hunch was confirmed when he saw that the account was following @TheRealMDC. “Gotcha,” he muttered triumphantly under his breath. He didn’t think he’d be so lucky as for his first tactic to work.

“Is that Bakery Girl’s work?” Plagg zoomed up close to the screen and tapped one with a cream-colored romper. “I like that one, it reminds me of cheese.”

“Ha! I’ve gotta tell her I found it!” Adrien was still feeling victorious as he perused the designs.

“Does that mean you’re going to visit her again?”

Adrien froze. He hadn’t decided on a course of action as Chat Noir. Steering clear of her seemed to be the obvious answer, if he were being consistent. But Marinette seemed to like and trust Chat—maybe even more than Adrien, though he couldn’t fathom why. The idea of ceasing to visit her just when their friendship was starting to pick up seemed disheartening.

If he was going to start distancing himself as Adrien—which Kagami wanted him to do anyway—then his double life shouldn’t make things so awkward.

Things were different when he was Chat. His actions were more inconsequential.

“I mean… why not? What harm could it do?” Adrien decided, still half lost in thought. He slipped his phone into his pocket and got back to work.

—

Chat Noir tossed a chunk of bark from the tree branch at Marinette’s French doors. It was already dark out, and it felt like too much of an intrusion to invite himself onto her balcony.

Moments later, she opened the door with a little smirk on her face. “Back so soon, Chaton? I hope you’re feeling better today.”

“I am, Princess!” Chat replied in a chipper tone. The branch bounced as he leapt onto her balcony and gave her an exaggerated, princely bow. “How are you this evening?”

“Very well, and you?”

“Great—I found your design Instagram!” He leaned against the railing with his arms crossed, looking as proud as a cat who’d brought home a mouse. “Your drawings look amazing.”

“Oh, really?” Marinette put her hands on her hips. “How much did you have to stalk me to find it?”

Chat Noir made an offended look. “Stalk you, Princess? I’m a gentlecat, I would never do such a thing! It wasn’t hard, actually—I know you’re friends with that Ladyblog girl, so I searched her followers list for the word ‘design,’ and the only handle that came up was following your personal account, so I figured that was you.” He smirked. “Didn’t think it would be that easy, but you’re more predictable than I thought, Princess.”

“Hmm,” Marinette hummed, coming up to Chat Noir and looking him over in a calculating way that made him feel less confident. “So you do have a good head on those shoulders, Minou.”

“Are you patronizing me?”

She snorted. “Never! It’s just… there’s one detail bothering me about your story.”

Chat Noir gulped. “What’s that, Princess?”

“How do you know about my personal account?”

“—Uh!!” Chat Noir blanched. Marinette’s design account had over ten thousand followers, so he would have had to scroll through pages upon pages of usernames to notice the private account that only a leap of faith would lead him to believe belonged to her. Her name didn’t appear anywhere, and the profile picture was an artsy shot of a model wearing one of Marinette’s pieces on the runway—not that Chat Noir would know that. Instagram had only showed him @TheRealMDC followed @DottyDesigner because Adrien was already following her account.  “Umm… I…” he tried to think of a plausible excuse.

“You’re a creepy stalker.” Marinette flicked his bell.

“No, I’m not!” Chat Noir objected. “I happened to find out in a legitimate, non-creepy way!”

“I don’t believe it,” Marinette laughed, “You’re totally a creepy stalker! You shouldn’t be allowed on my balcony anymore!” She pushed his nose with a fingertip, making him lean back over the balcony rail, far enough that it would have been dangerous if he hadn’t been equipped with a super suit as a safety net.

“Hey, Princess, have mercy!” He flailed, twisting away from her finger. Since she had leaned in to push him, when he got free and rebounded onto the balcony, he ended up practically in her arms.

He edged past her and stepped away from the rail, heart pounding and face flushed, temporarily robbed of words. If he wanted to lie to himself, he would say it was due to the adrenaline of almost being pushed off the balcony, but he wasn’t so naïve anymore. This feeling was familiar.

“Sorry, Minou, I went too far.” Marinette bit her lip and, taking his arm, pulled him in the direction of her flat. “I just made banana bread, do you want some? If you prove yourself worthy tonight, maybe I’ll even let you come back another day.” She shot him a playful look over her shoulder.

“Sure, I’d love some, Princess.” He followed her, just as he followed the last girl who made him feel this way.

For the rest of the night, his eyes were drawn to her, taking in the way her eyelids folded behind thick eyelashes when she blinked, the natural pink hue of her cheeks, the creases that appeared beside the corners of her mouth when she smiled and spoke, the way she tucked one leg under her when she sat. He got drunk on the sound of her voice, teasing her just a little more so he could hear her laugh again.

This feeling was familiar, because this was exactly how it had felt to fall for Ladybug in less than twenty-four hours.

Except, instead of a carefree student who could pursue his Lady to his heart’s content, now he was a businessman and highly public figure with a girlfriend, who was only stealing moments with a friend he wasn’t allowed to meet without the mask.

As he drank in her presence, his heart hurt.

Maybe it would be okay for him to just come and see her now and then. This didn’t have to turn into anything.

They could just be friends.

This should be fine, right?

Did he dare to keep coming back?

[propagandaprincess]

Chapter 2: Violet 

Read on FFN here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13257773/2/The-Human-Huntress

The sun was just starting to peek through the windows when Feyre woke. She was alone in the room. She vaguely remembered both of her sisters coming to bed in the early hours of the morning. Elain usually stayed in the kitchen late preparing for events and it was no shocking fact to not find her in her bed this morning either.

And Nesta, she rarely saw her oldest sister most days. She was always out tending to whatever High Fae needed her assistance. Because they apparently need assistance with the most basic tasks She rolled her eyes at the thought. No, Nesta's absence was not unusual. She was the first to rise and the last to sleep each day.

If anyone needs a break and to stay in our room all day it's Nesta. Shethought. But out of the three of them, Nesta seemed to be the only sister truly enjoying her work.

Nesta loved high society, gossip and glam. It was something she wasn't afraid to admit. Before living in the lavish palace of Spring, Nesta despised their life of squalor. Granted, Feyre and Elain weren't fans of their poverty either but they were grateful for what little they had. At first Nesta grumbled and whined about her appointment as a handmaid for visiting Fae. But now when Feyre did see her she seemed to glow with anticipation for each day. Often times the visiting High Fae loved her so much they would share their secrets as she fixed their hair for a night of socializing. Sometimes even inviting her out with them. Being part of their lavish lifestyle of luxury and lies made her feel powerful.

Elain on the other hand would much rather be out in one of these immaculate gardens instead of stuck in the stuffy kitchen but that's what position was open when they were hired.

Well when Feyre was hired by Lucien more accurately. It took some groveling that she wasn't proud of to get her sisters employed as well. Not that she begged for their positions. But when Tamlin caught her sneaking part of her hunt to feed her sisters in their makeshift camp, she begged him to not fire her. Luckily Lucien convinced him to hire her sisters on and keep her employed.

That was the closest she had come to seeing Tamlin's power first hand. He had tracked her to their tent and confronted her. He didn't want to see reason and brought her and her sisters to Lucien to discuss how they would bring about punishment.

But it wasn't my begging that truly got us off the hook. She admitted to herself bitterly. No it was Elain, and her beautiful doe eyes. Lucien melted when he saw her.

However they managed it, Feyre was grateful for all three wages and housing no matter how meager they might be.

She laid leisurely in bed for a while taking time to stretch her limbs. Her hips cracked with soreness from the hard ride she had the day before. She grimaced with sympathy for how her horse must be feeling now.

Maybe after lunch I'll go check on her instead and bring those antlers in as well. The High Lords wouldn't be arriving till late afternoon so she should be safe taking a little detour back to her quarters.

Right. Lunch. With High Lord Pervert. She groaned outwardly and pulled her pillow over her face. She might as well start preparing for that. Unlike the Fae Nesta tended to she didn't have someone to braid her hair and get her dressed.

She desperately wanted to just put on some pants and trousers but she knew that Alis would skin her hide if she did. So instead she grabbed her one and only dress from the wardrobe her sisters shared.

It was a gift of the gracious and oh so generous Lord of Spring she thought sarcastically. He made a comment on that garden walk that she would look beautiful in a dress. At which she tried not to gag and responded that she didn't own any. That night the dress was laying on her bed decoratively with a note that said. "I chose blue to compliment your eyes. Hope you don't mind. Sincerely, Tamlin." She wanted to rip it to shreds.

She put it on and started to tie up the bodice. Thankfully the fashion of this court was modest necklines but the way the corset tightened made it feel like her breasts were being shoved up to her throat.

She donned some matching slippers and set to work on her hair. Elain is so much better at braiding than I am. But this will have to do. she secured her plait with a matching ribbon and admired her appearance.

Despite hating all that was frilly, she did have to admit that she looked nice. She had no jewelry to adorn but despite that she looked...pretty. Plain in comparison to the beauty of the Fae that walked these halls, but pretty none the less.

She was ready early despite her lie in so she paced the small room to waste time. In reality though she was practicing how to walk in a long dress. It had been a long time since her movement was this restricted.

Finally she headed out the door and toward the dining room. She passed multiple types of Fae on her way down the halls as they prepared for tonight's festivities. A few nodded at her, others ignored her completely and for that Feyre was glad. She felt out of place enough already.

Feyre wasn't the first to the table for lunch. When she opened the large oak doors leading into the dining room, she found Lucien already seated and picking at apple slices as he looked over papers scattered across the table. He seemed engrossed enough in the writings that he didn't notice her presence.

"Good afternoon Lucien." She greeted. He glanced up looking slightly startled but he quickly covered it up with a grin.

"Feyre! I didn't know you would be joining us."

"Really? Because Lord Tamlin said you were just dying to know how I killed the shadow elk." She cocked her eyebrow challenging his statement.

"Fine I knew you were coming I just forgot. It's a hectic day." He sighed and ran a hand through his Auburn hair then snapped his fingers, vanishing his papers.

Feyre eyed the now empty place mat in front of him. She had to admit it was incredible what High Fae could do with their power. Incredible and terrifying.

"Please." He suddenly gestured to the spot next to him. "Have a seat. Tamlin wasn't lying I really do want to know how you tracked that Elk."

As she made her way next to him a booming voice called. "As do I."

Tamlin strolled into the elegant dining room with an air of rugged confidence.

With a smug grin he pulled out a chair for her, next to the head of the table which of course would be his seat. Lucien rolled his eyes at the male.

Oh hell no. Feyre thought as she side stepped the High Lord of Spring and sit defiantly next to Lucien.

Tamlin just shrugged and chuckled before taking his seat. With a snap he summoned a lucious feast, prepared by her sister.

Lucien proceeded to fill his plate eagerly. "Elain is a master at roasted meats. I can't wait to see what she prepared with that elk tonight."

"You'll just have to be patient, Lord Lucien." Quipped the chipper voice of my sister. She appeared dressed in a simple linen dress along with a food stained apron. Her hands were full with two large packages.

"Elain, would you like to join us for lunch as well? It's about time you took a break from all your hard work." Tamlin offered. That's actually kind of him. Feyre thought approvingly. Perhaps the High Lord did have some redeeming qualities after all.

"Oh no thank you High Lord, I have too much to do still. I just heard Feyre from the kitchen and needed to give her these." She blushed as she walked over to Feyre's seat, setting the two packages wrapped in butcher paper in front of her. "Oh I almost forgot the best part! I'll be right back!" and with that she scurried back into the kitchen.

Lucien raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. Feyre just shrugged and tried to proceed as normal.

Before Feyre could fill her plate her sister was back with a small chocolate cupcake with a candle on top. With a grin she handed it to Feyre and said "Happy Birthday!"

Feyre gave her a small smile back but cringed at the look on the males faces.

"It's your birthday?" Lucien exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell us?" he looked genuinely offended. Tamlin was sitting across from her looking bewildered but he said nothing.

"I don't usually celebrate my birthday." Feyre responded reluctantly.

"Which is going to change, starting with this year. You've always taken care of us, it's our turn to pay you back a little bit for that." Elain chided. She picked up the packages and gestured for Feyre to open the smaller one.

"The bigger package is just the pelt from the elk." She explained. "That one," She pointed to the smaller package. "Is your gift from Nesta and I. I wanted to wait until Nesta was free to give it to you but I have no idea when that will be."

Feyre was suddenly very self-conscious. She didn't want to be having this moment with Elain in front of their employers but she decided to bite her tongue and bear it.

She untied the string around the butcher paper and found a leather-bound sketch book and pencil. It was beautiful, and by far the nicest present she had ever received. Still aware of her surroundings she forced herself to keep her tears in.

"Thank you Elain. It's perfect, I love it."

"Eek!" Elain squealed. Wrapping her younger sister up in a hug. "I'm so glad. You aren't still mad at me for going shopping?" She teased.

"No, not mad." she replied with a grin.

"Well then I will let you all get on with your lunch. So sorry to interrupt." Elain gave a little curtsy, that nearly made Feyre laugh, and went back to work.

Tamlin finally broke his silence after a few heartbeats. "Happy birthday, Feyre." He said with a soft smile. "I wish I would have known so I could have done something for you."

"No please don't worry about that, honestly I forgot it was my birthday until Elain reminded me last night." She didn't know why this conversation made her so on edge. Perhaps it was the intimacy of it. He knows too many details about my life already.

"How does one forget their own birthday?" Lucien mocked.

"It may have something to do with it being in the middle of winter and I'm in a court stuck in eternal spring I suppose." She admitted.

"Fair enough." Tamlin laughed, he then eyed the sketchbook now in her lap. "You draw?"

"Sometimes, yes." She kept her reply short. He doesn't need to know everything about me.

"I'd love to see your work sometime." He held her gaze and leaned forward in his chair, his arms rested on either side of his plate.

"It's nothing special." Feyre looked down at her plate. Suddenly finding her peas extremely fascinating. Will he please stop looking at me like that?

"Nothing special? Says the woman who killed a shadow elk and if I recall correctly you seemed to think that was no big deal either." When Feyre looked up again he was still gazing at her.

"Well I didn't know the elk was special otherwise I may have thought it was a big deal."

"About that elk, are you going to tell us how you managed to track that damn thing?" Lucien asked breaking the tension. He seemed to be aware of this action, as did Tamlin. His eyes moved to Lucien briefly and then he leaned back in his chair nonchalantly.

"Yes, please do tell." Tamlin gestured for her to go on with the story as he helped himself to more food.

Thankful for Lucien's interruption Feyre told her story of tracking the beast. She answered all of the questions they had for her and even showed them the pelt that Elain had wrapped up for her. They were speechless at that.

"You know if you take that into the village you could probably get a great price for that." Lucien told her.

"I bet so," Tamlin added. He was still stroking the white fur fondly. "But I'll do you one better. I'll give you three thousand gold for the pelt."

Feyre's fork fell to the table with a loud ring. Rare animal or no he would be over paying by at least two thousand. If not more. She thought, though she had no idea what this elk would go for in the village down the road.

"You don't need to do that, I'm sure whatever the trapper gives me will suffice." she replied breathily.

"Nonsense, I know that old bastard he will try to haggle you down and will probably deny that it is truly a shadow elk pelt. He doesn't have any competition in town so he knows he can get away with it too." He said all while he buttered a roll, this time not meeting her gaze. "Besides I want this pelt, it's not every day you see one of these."

"I..Thank you Lord Tamlin. That's very kind of you." Was all she could say. Three thousand gold, that nearly puts us at our goal for leaving for the continent already. Just a few more months wages and we could leave Prythian. She was lost in thought, she never dreamed of being this close to their goal so soon.

"Please, Feyre just call me Tamlin." His smile was genuine and didn't seem to be hiding any ulterior motive that Feyre could tell.

Lucien cleared his throat reminding him again that they were not alone. "Tamlin we should probably head back to the study; the High Lords and their parties will be arriving soon." He said as he stood from the table, placing his napkin on his cleared plate.

"You're right." Tamlin responded and stood with a sigh. "Sorry for such a quick lunch, Feyre. Next time we will take our time."

"Next time." She repeated, standing as well. She had hardly touched her plate but was too full of excitement and wonder to care. "Yes, next time Tamlin. Well I should probably be going soon too if the High Lords are about to arrive."

"Probably a good idea. You will stay in your quarters as we discussed last night? I hate that I have to ask you to do that especially now that I know it's your birthday."

"Yes of course." Right after I make a quick detour. She thought. she felt guilty for planning to disobey his orders so soon after his kind gesture but she wanted to make sure her horse was recovering well.

The three of them exited the dining room as one. Feyre said her goodbyes, handed the wrapped pelt to Tamlin with a meek smile and headed towards the servant's quarters but instead of making a turn down the hall she waited until their heads disappeared into the study before heading to and out the main doors toward the stable.

Her horse was fine, but Feyre refilled her water and hay in her stall and patted her lovingly for a bit. Her horse grunted in appreciation. She took a seat on a hay bale next to her horse and sat with her for a bit. How about you be my first sketch in my new book. With that thought she set to work drawing.

She finished and surveyed her work. I'm definitely rusty. She thought with a small chuckle, but she still thought she did a decent job of the depiction.

"I'll paint you a real portrait next time girl, one worthy of your beauty." She smiled and looked outside. Feyre jumped when she saw the sun's position realizing that she had spent entirely too long drawing.

Shit, Shit, Shit. I'm supposed to be up in my room. Feyre gathered her drawing supplies quickly and eyed the antlers propped up in the stall. Fuck I have to get those too.

She rested the sketch book in the crook of her arm and put the pencil between her teeth as she heaved the Antlers over her shoulders. It was a struggle carrying it all and she knew she must look like a fool but she had to get back to her quarters.

Without a second glance she set a quick pace up to the palace. Where the hell is Dominic and Philip when I need them. She thought angrily as her hair fell into her eyes, unable to even blow the strands out of her face.

She was halfway to the door when she heard male voices chattering some distance behind her. For a split second she thought her prayers had been answered and it was her friends coming to help her, that was until she heard female voices join in on their bickering.

Just keep walking, maybe they haven't even noticed you yet. She reassured herself, picking up the pace to be as quick as she could go without running.

The voices behind her stopped as she reached the steps, but she knew better than to believe they were gone.

As she reached the doors she realized she had not puzzled out how she was supposed to get them open with so much in her arms. She was about to drop everything when a smooth Fae hand reached from behind her and pulled on the brass handle.

Feyre looked up and her eyes met piercing violet ones. Mother above he is beautiful. That was Feyre's first impression of this mysterious Fae. She studied his chiseled features for a short moment. His mouth was upturned in an amused smirk, but behind those violet eyes there was a sense of unease. But it was quickly gone when the first words were out of his mouth.

"Please, allow me to help you with that." He offered as swung the large doors open for her.

Feyre blinked her eyes. She thought he had to be part of a Lord's court. He was dressed all in black. Her eyes took him in from his black shoes, to his black pants and his black tunic. Part of a court she thought until her eyes landed upon the crown on his head. She almost dropped everything and ran.

She started to say thank you when she remembered the pencil between her teeth. The handsome Fae seemed to notice and delicately took the pencil out of her mouth and tucked it behind her ear.

"Thank you." She finally said. She was surprised at how strong her voice was but she had decided a long time ago that no Fae would every get the satisfaction of intimidating her.

Without wasting another second, she strode through the doors and down the hall. Disappearing as quick as she could around the turn where she paused to listen for the strangers. She heard another male let out a whistle.

"Damn, did you see the size of those antlers she was carrying. That has to be shadow elk antlers, I'm calling it. I would love to pick the brain of a hunter who killed that." She set down the antlers as light as she could and hugged the sketchbook to her chest. Peeking around the corner she could see the male the voice belonged to was nearly as handsome as the first. Dressed in black armor and jewels that glistened in the sunlight streaming in through the windows. But the most intimidating thing about him were his wings. Even with them tucked behind his body Feyre could tell they were massive.

There were three more accompanying the devastatingly handsome High Lord. Two females, one dressed in red with golden locks down to her low back and a far shorter female clothed in sliver with two large rubies in her ears. There was one other male with them as well that Feyre didn't notice at first. He was dressed in the same armor and similar jewels, he had wings as well but they nearly disappeared in the shadows around him.

"I was a little more interested in the fact that a human woman was carrying the antlers, Cassian." The golden-haired woman replied. "Why is there a human servant working here?" She directed that question toward her High Lord who was staring down the hall to where Feyre was hiding. She ducked her head around the corner at his gaze.

I don't think he saw me. She told herself but she knew that was too close of a call. Feyre quickly picked up the antler and headed as quick as possible to her quarters.

"I don't know." She heard the High Lord drawl as she scurried away. "But I'm planning to find out."

[rpgmgames]

August’s Featured Game: Shroom Soup

DEVELOPER(S): Shroomy ENGINE: RPGMaker 2000 GENRE: Adventure, RPG, Psychological Horror WARNINGS: listed here (may contain spoilers) SUMMARY: You play as Arnika, a gloomy teenage girl. Perpetually tired, you live off excessive sleep, lime juice, and instant soup. You look into the vortex forming in your cup of said soup, this time mushroom flavour. Next thing you know, you are in an entirely different world where everything, from buildings to people, is being devoured by fungi. It seems like you have no choice but to walk on... Your journey involves exploration, puzzle-solving and battles.

Download the demo here!

Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

Introduce yourself! Hello! I am Shroomy, and I still haven't figured out which one of my nicknames I should go by, but I use "uboaappears" for art and "toxic shroom swamp" for games. I have a bachelor's degree in biology since two weeks ago and like everything surreal, gory and gay. Nice to meet you. I have been in the community since about 2012, and that might be also when I first wanted to make a game - a Yume Nikki fangame, because YN brought me here. I messed around with the engine for a long time, and certain characters and ideas gradually mutated to whatever this is now.

What is your project about? What inspired you to create your game initially? *Shroomy: It's about making a cup of instant soup and accidentally going on a very weird adventure. ...Okay, actually, it's a coming-of-age story with an emphasis on mental health, relationships, and toxic flesh-eating mushrooms. The idea came to me when I made myself an instant soup once. For some reason, I thought it would be cool if there was a portal into another world in the cup. That's how it started. (I was also into drawing mushrooms growing on people at the time, so that naturally made its way into my Awesome Game Idea.)

How long have you been working on your project? *Shroomy: ...A while. It's enough to say that I graduated from both high school and university with it. But to be honest, I didn't really do much with it until about two years ago. Right now I tend to think of the time before that as trial and error, playing around with ideas and learning to use the engine. I feel a little self-conscious about how long it took me to come up with a coherent story, but that might be a good thing. Since this is quite a personal game, it helped to grow as a person. I think it made for a more interesting and mature work than it would be otherwise.

Did any other games or media influence aspects of your project? *Shroomy: I feel like I take little bits of inspirations from everything. But I'd say Yume Nikki and Re:Kinder were the biggest game influences. Maybe Hello Charlotte, too - the minimalistic world gave me some food for thought :> Design-wise, I think my current (character) style is a lovechild of Danganronpa, Killing Stalking and something else I am not sure about. Maybe just me.

Have you come across any challenges during development? How have you overcome or worked around them? *Shroomy: I think the biggest challenges for me have always been centered around the lack of free time, the lack of energy or the lack of motivation. Some people manage to juggle life and gamedev, but I get exhausted really easily, so it's hard. This is an ongoing issue. I tend to try and free up a day just for relaxing and creative stuff. I've also started using the Forest app for focusing on things, and sometimes use it for gamedev as well. At the beginning I found it frustrating that my skills (in pixel art, for example) didn't match what I wanted to create. That one was improved by - you guessed it - making a lot of pixel art. Making and scrapping a bunch of tilesets for the game. It's as simple as practice and learning how to get the most out of your art program. (It also helps me to make a detailed sketch of a map before I start working, or at least brainstorm the main elements of it.) Another challenge was the incoherence of the story. Originally I wanted to make something really vague and open to interpretation, but... that actually didn't give me enough material to work with. In the end, I played around with the characters, tried to write them some backstories that no one was going to see, and somehow ended up with an actual plot..? Shocking, I know! And the final thing is putting gameplay into the game. To be honest, the puzzles in the demo were pretty random on my side, I just thought them up on the spot. In subsequent locations I tried to make them relevant to the game's themes and/or hint towards the story.

Have any aspects of your project changed over time? How does your current project differ from your initial concept? *Shroomy: For one thing, the current project has a story and a plan, even if the story is presented in quite an obfuscated way. The original concept was not much more than an idea of a shroomy world. The characters also have a lot more depth and pain to them than they used to. The locations have changed a lot as well, to the point where most of the original ones don't exist anymore.

What was your team like at the beginning? How did people join the team? If you don’t have a team, do you wish you had one or do you prefer working alone? *Shroomy: My team is mostly just me. At the beginning it was a young and naive me, and now we have a slightly older and better-at-art me. After I started my dev blog, I was contacted by Tommuel, who now helps me with sound design and music. And my old friend Robin has made a few NPC sprites for me, and might give a hand with more pixel art in the future. They're not really involved with other aspects of development, but I really appreciate their help anyway! I prefer to keep most of this game to myself - it feels too personal to share, plus I'm a bit of a perfectionist.

What is the best part of developing the game? *Shroomy: I would say it's putting my work out there and sharing it with the world. I'm also really proud of how much I've grown as an artist and writer through developing this. I got attached to this story and this world, with all of its fun, weird and sad details. It's also been really fun, amazing even, to get to know other devs and make friends through being part of this interesting and creative community. I owe some wonderful friendships to it.

Do you find yourself playing other RPG Maker games to see what you can do with the engine, or do you prefer to do your own thing? *Shroomy: I definitely play other games for inspiration, it helps me a lot. Though I try not to make things "just like" other games, but make it a transformative learning experience instead.

Which character in your game do you relate to the most and why? (Alternatively: Who is your favorite character and why?) *Shroomy: I feel like I have been through stages. At first I was Arnika, then Lina, now I feel like I'm turning into Arthur. I guess I put my traits into all of them. (Does that mean that Bernard is the next stage? I'm /so/ ready to transcend humanity, finally learn how to do maths and become everyone's favourite character.)

Looking back now, is there anything that regret/wish you had done differently? *Shroomy: I think the biggest mistake I made was jumping straight into making a game without thinking it through or considering the scope. In the end, the lack of planning set me back a lot. Admittedly, I was young and excitable, so I guess it was a learning experience? I didn't really know how to write stories or plan long-term projects, but over time, I somehow built up those skills. I think it's good to have a clear-ish idea of what you want to make before you start, and maybe start with something small. (So basically, do the opposite of what I did.)

Once you finish your project, do you plan to explore the game’s universe and characters further in subsequent projects, or leave it as-is? *Shroomy: Aha. Actually, yes. I have accidentally started writing two sequels already. They will be small games focusing on other characters' perspectives (as opposed to Arnika). I'm not actually touching them yet though, only making some notes and writing scripts. Perhaps by the time the first game is released I'll have enough material to comfortably work on them.

What do you look most forward to upon/after release? *Shroomy: Fan reaction, I think? To be honest, I'm not really sure. I think I'll just be enjoying the incredible dopamine rush after finally setting this child of mine free to explore the world and infect people's brains with all the shroomy memes it contains. (Also will probably get off the internet for about a week from the anxiety.) Then maybe being free to work on other things, indeed. And posting spoilery concept art >:D

Is there something you’re afraid of concerning the development or the release of your game? *Shroomy: I am a little worried about the reception of the game's subject matter. If you looked at the list of warnings, you might have an idea what I mean. Sometimes it feels dangerous to explore certain themes in your stories, because people misinterpret depicting something bad as promoting it, for example. But that's why that list exists. I'm just going to let people know straight away that I explore dark themes in this project and I'm not going to hold back on how I do it. Creativity should flow freely, I think. (I am also a little worried about the ratio of my free time vs. gamedev time and /when/ I will finally be able to release it, but... Thankfully, I'm the one in charge of that.)

Do you have any advice for upcoming devs? *Shroomy: Take some time to make a plan for your project, start small, fail faster, and aim for something finished before you aim for perfect. Make a system for organising your files. Back up often, and on a different drive/cloud than your game is on, preferably several. Most of all, make something you would love to play! And don't be too hard on yourself.

Question from last month's featured dev @blackcrystalsrpg: What are your game dev pet peeves?? *Shroomy: I dislike the fact that sometimes I want to have made a game more than I want to make a game, but to have made a game you need to go and make the game. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But there's no escape from fate, so... go, go and make that game happen!

We mods would like to thank Shroomy for agreeing to our interview! We believe that featuring the developer and their creative process is just as important as featuring the final product. Hopefully this Q&A segment has been an entertaining and insightful experience for everyone involved!

Remember to check out Shroom Soup if you haven’t already! See you next month! 

- Mods Gold & Platinum

[orbyssarchives]

A Brief tl;dr

This is probably a lot to say for 20 unfinished webcomic pages and I know I can be fairly long-winded so if you just wanna skip ahead and click through the pictures I’ve put up, I understand.

The TL;DR is

Hello and welcome to Mage Punk Archives! My name is Tables and this is some of the work that I’ve done over the last few years and what I’ve been up to in my little corner of the world. This is the third and last of a series of posts, outlining a number of updates that I completed on the site.

Included are some of my inspirations and a little of what I’ve learned so far about myself as an ever growing artist up to this point.

After this, I want to keep the content more focused on the actual art and story.

  I’ll post to this site as often as I am able.

    Thanks for reading!

  ***

Long Ago, Before the miracle of handheld internet searches and Instagram

When I was but a young, internet webling, I was heavily into shitty online flash games and looking for anything even remotely related to my interests at the time. From Mario and Sonic to various comics, videos games, anime and things never to be said aloud (pornpornporn). My love of the likes of Super Mario Bros and Sonic the Hedgehog (big fandoms for me at the time) would later lead me to sprite comics. Today, my feelings for the little hodge podge collage strips of old video game sprite sheets and backgrounds are a little mixed.

(They were beautiful and I’m gonna make one someday)

Then, in Highschool, I took a basic Web Design class. It was a VVoid World Web of Notepad and Internet Explorer where a kindly old crone passed on to those of us there, some knowledge of the ancient runic language which forms the foundations of the World Wide Web: HTML. Tables, frames, css, oh my! This knowledge would eventually prove invaluable.

Throughout our studies we were occasionally allowed to venture out into the Wider World Web. It was during these little adventures and travels across the Web that I happened upon the magical land of Webcomics. It was also during this time that I began break free of the enchantment of sprites. Even though I would probably never return to them, they would always hold a special place in my heart.

  The Internet is for [Comics]

    Webcomics – Synonymous with “Masochism”

At first, I had no idea just how grueling webcomics could be. Most webcomic artists pump out pages one to three times a week. At the time I got into them, MegaTokyo, then still partially a video game webcomic, was just releasing its third printed book; 2-3 updates a week with a loosely set schedule. Evan Dahm was wrapping up his surreal fantasy epic, Rice Boy; with updates consistently going up Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The various sprite and drawn webcomics that I was following at the time were updating all the time. Seeing all the great work going up, I felt encouraged to try it myself.

I drew these closer to the end of my junior year of high school.

Desu

Taking major inspiration from a lot of the manga and anime that I was enjoying then, I used pen and ink to make my comic pages. I liked working in black and white because it felt direct and skipping on color made it easier to finish faster. I figured I could work faster if I didn’t have to worry about the extra step. When I did want to use color, as is typical for the early pages of a new manga, I used markers.

At the time, I had no idea that mangakas used assistants. That’s messed up.

Not to say that it was completely unrealistic, but back in the real world I could only average one black and white page a week. If even. The spider webs I was drawing all over were so that I wouldn’t have to use a ruler to draw my panel proper borders. I thought it gave the comic an “old archive”. In the end, I concluded that the spider webs should have their place and not be all over.

This time, I decided to work a little more carefully and deliberately.

  Moving Forward

It was going pretty well but by the time page 7 rolled around, it was time for midterms and I had become too self-conscious and uncomfortable with the way I was drawing my comic pages then. Then, it was time to take finishing high school seriously and before I knew it, I was a freshman at The Art Institute of Fort Lauderdale. I did a lot of growing in the next four years that I attended there. Unfortunately, I never revisited those pages. Instead, near the end of my sophomore year, I took a Sequential Art class where the Final was a full-color, 5-page comic.

These are the ink-wash versions of the 7-page Final that I submitted. I’d originally colored them digitally to meet project requirements but I don’t want to post those just yet..

  In the End

I wasn’t satisfied. The truth was that I waited until the last minute, rushed it, and over-reached on a re-draw that wasn’t much fun for me to work on. During the course of that Sequential Art class my professor turned my attention to artists like Moebius and Mike Mignola. I also came across Katsuya Terada’s stuff around this time.

  And school went on…

    I worked on Mage Punk when I could between assignments.

    Between thinking I could possibly work on a for-print comic…

    …and a webcomic at the same time.

  The End was Near

Most of these were actually made towards the end of my four years at Ai. Those of us graduating were tasked with compiling our work from the years past in accordance with the requirements for obtaining our degrees. I believe that we were given two semesters to gather our pieces and do any revisions to previous works to get them up to date with the rest of the portfolio piece. Illustration Graduates at AiFL were typically required to gather a required selection of their work into an on-demand printed book. The year that I graduated, my department decided to change things around a little. Specifically, we were given the option to collect the requirement work into a plain black binder portfolio and make the printed book more geared towards our pursuits. I opted to make a Mage Punk/Orbyss Archives “Zine” as my main portfolio piece.

  And Then College was Over

I drew a few more pages of the comic until I became employed full-time. These days, there aren’t enough free hours in my days for me to keep up with any typical webcomic’s update schedule so for a long while I stopped working on the comic altogether. I’m squeezing as much work out of every second that I’m not there; with whatever energy I can muster. This includes planning, writing, sketching and drawing. Before I got back to work on the site, I was posting fairly regularly to my Twitter and Instagram; those posts took time to do as well.

  Most of this post was written in separate sessions on my commutes to work.

“Shortcuts”

Even though I always wanted to present Mage Punk as a webcomic, I always worked on it like it would go to print eventually. This created a confusing mindset for me when working on the comic, where I had to work on a whole book, but I have to rush to finish every page. If I wanted to put out pages more frequently I took shortcuts at any point I could to be done with them. Even if I created a good buffer of finished pages, I’d still run into that same pitfall eventually. I wasn’t enjoying my project because of a pressure I applied on myself to finish it in a way I wasn’t necessarily comfortable with. I didn’t even get that much done in the end.

It’s important that I work on it at a pace that lets me show the best of my ability. I would love it if I could be properly finished with the pages before I post them but if I wait before it’s all good and done I’ll just never get around to posting anything, forever floating, aimlessly, throughout creative internet limbo.

Instead, if I have to work on my comic in piecemeal, I’ll just post it up in piecemeal. Mage Punk will still be presented as a webcomic but, until the end of the book is done, certain changes are still a possibility. Editing is an important part of producing any book and I’m going to make its presentation reflect that.

  Cue Rhidiculous shouting “I told you so!” from some nearby bushes.

  A Webcomic in Presentation Only?

Those Two Images are the Same Page

Instead of trying to finish things at breakneck speeds, I’m going to work on the comics at a more reasonable pace. I’ll try to work on it mainly Chapter to chapter instead of page to page like how a webcomic normally is done (buffers aside) This gives me the opportunity to take a step back and get a broader look at the story while still putting out content in enjoyable chunks.

It’s difficult for me to wrap my head around drawing a comic on a start-to-finish, page-by-page basis. While I was working on the later pages in the chapter I kept finding myself jumping around and making changes to previous pages to make some things more consistent with later parts of the story. Instead of working page-by-page, I was editing the chapter as a whole to try to strengthen the narrative I’m trying to tell.

To that end, I still want to present it on this site as a webcomic; if only in name and archive.

The Process

At the VERY longtime behest of my editor, I’ll be presenting the comic as a work in progress at various points in the following production stages.

Writing

I’ll post dialog excerpts here and there. Nothing that can spoil the story too much.

This step will be kept largely behind the scenes.

Thumbnails

I do these on index cards in ballpoint pen to figure out the sequence of events that I most prefer.

This is the step where I’m prone to overloading a page with information.

First Drafts

Full size roughs of the earlier thumbnails. This step helps me get a better sense of how crowded or unbalanced a page might be early on.

This step also helps to prune out any strenuous scenes or dialog that could otherwise have their own pages.

If it isn’t working visually at this point, it’s not going to work in the next step.

Pencils

This is where the real drawing happens. Drawings in this step are made by either digital or traditional means depending on when or where I’m working.

Inking

This step is exactly like the drawing step but in pen and ink. Despite my affinity for real pen and ink, I’ll mainly be working this step digitally.

Color

This step is wrought with indecision but it also one of the faster, more fun steps to do.

Lettering

I’ve removed the dialog from all the pages currently up, opting to keep that out until a chapter is completed; it’s the thing I’m likeliest to change the most frequently until the end.

All lettering is currently done digitally but I’m considering the possibility of hand lettering.

Drawing dialog can be quite fulfilling but it takes a lot of practice.

Editing

This part will be happening all throughout. Page re-orders, panel redraws, changes in dialog.

Until the book is done.

  Here We Are

I’ve already made some revisions to a handful of the pages that are already up; if you browse through the comics you can see the revisions noted in the comic descriptions. I’ll make blog posts for any major revisions or series of revisions that I do. I have a few ideas for some smaller projects that I can work on while I work on Mage Punk. Whether they be illustrations, stories, or even mini-comics like this silly thing down here.

      Moving on

I might have also mentioned before that I have a few other drawings that I wanted to make for the site. In particular I have a neat idea for some social media icon illustrations. I wanna make something that takes advantage of what I’ve learned with using CSS. It’s nothing too fancy.

All that said, future posts will be a bit more brief than these last three were. I’d much rather write and post about the work itself, but I feel like I’ve hit a personal milestone and felt the need to ramble on about it a little.

    Until next time,

  Thanks for reading!

    The Big Site Update (Part 3) A Brief tl;dr This is probably a lot to say for 20 unfinished webcomic pages and 

[sufferthesea]

The One Where It’s Kakashi’s Birthday (Kakashi/Reader)

It’s only appropriate to be late for Kakashi’s birthday celebration. Even he would be late. 

I did a few sketches for Kaka’s bday while watching PLL and then I ended up writing a fic to go with it, because the fic I wrote at 11.30pm last night wasn’t working out. Is this one any better? Idk I wrote it kinda fast and read it through once to do a quick revision because if I don’t get it posted tonight it’ll never see the light of day ...

Also kind of a gift to @thefoxthief because Ash said she wanted more of my Kakashi/Reader fic but I’ll be busy with Kakashi Week! So hopefully this li’l ol’ rushed thing will tide you over for now. (-: 

Words: 1.970 Rating: General 

Kakashi stared in dismay at the scene when he stepped into his apartment. There were no paper streamers hanging from the ceiling or balloons floating in the air; there were no massive centerpieces or banners or anything else that would indicate that today was different from any other day. It’s not like he wanted a big celebration - truth be told, he hated the attention it brought and the false sentimentality people spewed for the sake of appearing to care. But he couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed that you hadn’t done anything for his birthday. You’d been dating the Copy Ninja for a little over a year now, and this would be the second birthday you spent with him.

Maybe how I acted last time made them think I didn’t want them to do anything, Kakashi thought as he shed his flak jacket and sandals at the door. He grimaced at the memory of his last birthday. You’d only been dating for a few weeks then and you’d been so excited to celebrate his birthday that you went ahead and made plans without asking him because “it was a surprise.” You had done pretty much everything Kakashi despised - you’d made reservations at a popular restaurant, you’d baked him an unnecessarily sweet cake, you bought a handful of gifts, and you invited an even larger handful of people over to your own apartment for an after-dinner surprise party. As soon as Kakashi caught wind of your plan, he balked and spent most of the day wandering in the village to stay away from you. By the time he showed up, he was late for dinner (which, you had expected him to be a little late but three hours was just ridiculous), he looked you straight in the eye and said, “I don’t eat sweets”, he wouldn’t even look at the gifts you’d bought, and he declined your invitation to at least go back to your apartment so you could whip up a quick make-up dinner (and, you know, have the surprise party). Without so much as a hint of an apology, Kakashi disappeared into the night and left you standing in the middle of the street.

Yeah, I screwed that one up.

Kakashi couldn’t help it. He just didn’t like the idea of birthdays or all the gushing sweet words people tried to force on him. He just felt like it was a way for people to make themselves feel better for not caring enough about him throughout the rest of the year. It was a quick way to assert that they were still his “friend” without having to put forth the real effort of being a friend. Still, he noticed that he’d been holding his breath all day - hoping that maybe, just maybe, he’d come home to find you there with some decorations and a cake or maybe a gift. Not that he wanted anything like that - but just to know he hadn’t hurt your feelings or crushed your enthusiasm for things like this. But not only was the apartment bare and lacking any exceedingly sweet dessert and crinkled birthday bag, he noticed that you weren’t there either. You hadn’t even bothered to make a surprise visit to wait for him to get off work.

He pulled off his jonin shirt and tossed it on the floor, heading for the couch in the small living room, collapsing down on his stomach and burying his face into the cushion. If this was how his birthday was going to go then he might as well get a nap in while his body was willing to let him sleep …

Ding dong

No such luck. Kakashi dragged himself wearily to his feet and made his way to the front door, pulling it open a crack to peer outside.

“Hey, let me in!”

Surprised, Kakashi stood back and the door swung open. You juggled a paper grocery bag in one arm, a paper box in the other, and had a plastic bag hanging from your fingers.

“A little help would be nice,” you hinted, wiggling your fingers so the plastic bag shook. Kakashi reached for the bag but you yanked away. “No! Not that one! Take the paper bag!”

Kakashi snatched the grocery bag from you and followed you to the kitchen where you slid the paper box onto the counter.

“What are you doing?” he asked, peering over the top of the paper bag to look inside. You waved him away, retrieving the paper bag from his arms, and pushed him back towards the living room.

“No peeking! I know you hate surprises - trust me, I’ve learned my lesson - but I thought it’d be nice to have a quiet night in. I’m going to make dinner right now. You can go back to whatever you were doing.”

Kakashi felt a mix of embarrassment and happiness bubble up in the pit of his stomach but he forced himself to keep a straight face as he shrugged. “Alright, I’ll stay out of your hair.” He ambled back to the living room and laid himself out on the couch, listening to you clatter about in the kitchen. There was a sudden ease that washed over him that came only from your gentle presence filling the small apartment. He reached up and pulled down his mask and he was overtaken with the aromas of whatever it was you’d brought home; mixed among them was the sharp scent of your apple shampoo and the sweet notes of a dessert. His ears trained on the tapping of a wooden spoon, the crunch of a vegetable being sliced, and the sizzling of a hot pan. Before he knew it, Kakashi was asleep.

You gently shook Kakashi’s shoulder, hissing at him to wake up. You knew from experience that trying to wake him suddenly from a nap was a very bad idea. But sometimes the man could sleep like a rock and took a lot of effort to wake him up. After your fifth attempt to shake him awake, he blinked a few times and turned his eyes up to you. He sat up quickly, the back of his hair pressed flat while the rest was in its typical wild display.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice thick with worry as he tried to get his bearings. “Did something happen?”

“No! Nothing like that! I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have woken you but - dinner’s ready.”

“Huh?” Kakashi looked at you, studying your face. Your cheeks were bright pink and there was a lightness in your expression; you were up to something. “Oh … thank you.”

“I’ll grab you a plate and we can eat out here.”

Before he could say anything, you disappeared into the kitchen and returned with supernatural speed. You’d obviously had fixed two plates already and had planned this part out. Handing a plate to Kakashi, you sat down cross-legged next to him and gave him a broad smile.

“What?” he asked, feeling self-conscious for a moment. His hand reached for his mask but he stopped himself, forcing his hand back to his side.  

“Oh nothing. Just waiting for you to try it to see if you like it.”

“I’m sure if you made it then it’s delicious.”

“You’re sweet. Eat it.” You waited in anticipation until Kakashi took the first bite before you started eating. “Sorry,” you said through a mouthful of food. “But in my family we always let the whoever’s birthday it is to take the first bite. Hey, speaking of which …”

Kakashi sighed and felt his shoulders tense at the thought of another surprise party. “I appreciate this, but if you invited anyone over —”

“What? After what happened last year? Yeah right! I know better than that. I already said I learned my lesson.”

Kakashi turned away to hide his guilty blush and cleared his throat. “Oh? Then what?”

“I got you a dessert - but it’s not that sweet!” You threw up a hand to stop him from speaking. “I found a cake that’s not all that sweet! Okay? And I know you don’t like gifts, but I was passing by the bookstore on my way home from the grocery store and I saw something I had to get you.” You pulled out the plastic bag from behind your back and handed it to him. Cautiously, he took it and removed its contents, which were loosely wrapped in a thin piece of tissue paper.

“Sorry about the wrapping job,” you said nervously, “it was all I had handy when I bought it. And I figured you didn’t want to spend the time to actually unwrap a gift.”

Am I really that picky? Kakashi tore away the paper and stared at the book in his hand. It had a bright lime green cover and the words Itami to Ai written across the front in bold kanji. Below it had an illustration of a clenched fist and every knuckle had a small heart on it. Confused, he looked at you but you were bright-eyed, ready to explain.

“It’s called Pain and Love and it was a recommended read for people who like the Icha Icha series! I figured since you’ve read your Icha Icha books at least five times each, you might like something new. Look, it even has a review from Jiraiya!” You flipped the book over to point to the back where there was, indeed, a review from the Mountain Sage giving high praise about the novel.

Kakashi turned to look at you, unsure of what to say. Taking this opportunity of confused silence, you leaned over and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Happy birthday, Kaka-chan.”

The ninja’s eyes widened in surprise and a hot blush covered his cheeks as he processed what had just happened. Kaka-chan? That’s … c-cute… As if his body was finally allowing him to react, his eyes snapped shut and a soft smile spread across his face, followed by everything from his neck up turning a rosy shade of pink. “Ha - th-thank you …”

Grinning from ear to ear you sat back, satisfied with his reaction. “Of course! I’d never not do something for your birthday. But I think that doing the same thing every year could get boring… Maybe by next year I’ll have convinced you to have a party!” You laughed out loud at the pure stress on Kakashi’s face. “Just think about it. We have a whole year to prepare!”

“No amount of time could prepare me for that,” he muttered. Kakashi gingerly reached out and took your hand in his, tugging you closer and placing a soft kiss to your temple. “Really … Thank you,” he murmured against your hair.

Smiling to yourself, you leaned into him, feeling the heat of his chest radiate against your skin. “Thank you,” you replied, almost too quiet for him to hear, “for making it to another birthday.”

After a moment of content quietness, Kakashi pulled back and shyly looked away. “We should finish dinner so we can have that dessert. And maybe, if you’re up for it … I’ll … er, I can … uhm … r-read you part of th-this, ah, book … you got me.” He glanced over and saw your grin was even wider than ever and your eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Really?!”

“S-Sure … if you want. Since you bought it and all.”

“Well then forget dinner, let’s skip straight to dessert and you can start reading!” You jumped to your feet to grab the paper box that held Kakashi’s birthday cake.

Turning the book in his hands, Kakashi shook his head and tried to fight back the inescapable blush covering his entire body. Well this will certainly be an interesting birthday. But it’s better than a surprise party.

[sapphicluxanna]

1-100 pls 🌹💕

BABE. oh my god. okay here we go, it’s gonna be long!!

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? more cereal than milk I think?

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? I love winter and everything about it, I’d rather be cold than hot 

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? post it notes, receipts, I’ve used flowers a few times, really anything that’s in reach

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? tea with a little bit of milk and honey, coffee depends on the day? typically with a lil bit of vanilla creamer. when I make my ‘fancy’ coffee at home with frothy milk on top I always top them off with a dusting of cinnamon 

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? always

6: do you keep plants? ye! I have a succulent/cacti terrarium, some sunflowers, jasmine, african violets, tomato plants, hanging planters, and a few more I forget the names of!

7: do you name your plants? not the ones I have currently

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? I love ink. I haven't been able to paint with ink in a while, but the movement of that and watercolor are just.. freeing? I dunno how to explain it.  that and drawing using ink, every mark you make is permanent and I just kinda zone out when doing it

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? aight listen. my future s/o is gonna have to deal with this a lot. shower? singing. car ride? singing. cooking? singing. y'all aint getting a break even if I sound like a dying cat

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? primarily side and stomach!

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? I cant think of many at the moment but uhhhh. hmm. a few guys and I play a game together and I run the group (in rdr2), and we don't let people join it if their horse’s tail isn't braided so we’ll hunt them down and kill them instead

12: what’s your favorite planet? neptune looks beautiful

13: what’s something that made you smile today? the fact that you wanted to know more about me

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? lots and lots of plants, kinda modern, a few fish tanks, smells like lavender and coffee

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! mars has the biggest known volcano!

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish? stupidly basic, but chicken parmesan 

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? I’ve always wanted to impulsively dye it some shade of blue just for a few weeks

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. I got ridiculously drunk off tequila at a house party and was given my first mojito, thought he picked leaves off the tree out back and threw them in so I dug them out and threw them around the yard in disgust. I have a very vague memory of this but they always give me crap for it

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? I have a couple! one is my bujo where I keep lists of things like self care ideas, favorite movies and books, quotes, friend stuff, etc. another I use to draw in and like to recreate van gogh sketches, others are private 

20: what’s your favorite eye color? y'all ever really see brown eyes? oof

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. I don't have this?

22: are you a morning person? I could be if I woke up next to the right person

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? netflix binging, reading, aquarium shopping, walks with my dog in the woods, making stupid pancakes, and league with a babe

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? it takes time for me to trust people, so probably all my life at some point with a girl. as for family? no

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? I’ve locked myself outta my place a few times and had to go through the window

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? several pairs of sandals and slides!

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? just regular mint?

28: sunrise or sunset? watching the sunset on a blanket in the grass with a girl I care about 

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? her voice gets a lil louder and she talks fast when she's excited about something and its flipping adorable

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? yes. 

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. I love fluffy socks and patterned socks and ones with dinosaurs and stuff and I love socks so much, don't sleep in them though

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. we played a drinking game based off how we did in a split screen game, one drink for every kill, got v drunk that night 

33: what’s your fave pastry? I love baclava but I’m horribly allergic to walnuts

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? I still have it! my dad went down to south carolina a lot and I was, and still am, very much in love with alligators. I think I was six or something but he came home with this giant garbage bag and was moving it like there was an animal inside and when I opened it, it was a giant stuffed alligator. he's currently sitting on my bed, but seems a lot smaller now

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? I really wanna get into using thicker paper for letters with pressed wax seals and pressed flowers 

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? I don’t really focus on individual bands too much tbh, I bounce around a lot within genres. anything happy and country atm

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? I’m tryna keep it cleaner, better habit to make myself get into 

38: tell us about your pet peeves! people smoking around me (I don't care that you smoke whatever, I just ask you don't do it around me bc it makes me feel sick), a group of people that takes up the whole sidewalk going incredibly slow, people that cut me off in traffic without turn signals, people who f around in the tsa line and don't get ready then stand there for ten minutes taking everything off for the scanner and hold us up, “there” and “their” and “they’re” misuses, etc. jeez, didn't realize I had so many and that's not even all of them

39: what color do you wear the most? blue?

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you? I love my claddagh ring, my mom and sister both have the same one and we all match. currently not wearing it bc it was like 100 degrees F then other day and it burned my finger?????

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? asoiaf!!!!

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! I like this lil coffee shop about half an hour away, every drink has an individual and funny name and the workers are nice 

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? I honestly can’t remember, but I could really go for this right now

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? uhhhh it’s been a bit? lotta stressors recently 

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? I try to, should've listened to them regarding some stuff and I didn’t 

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. what do you call a blind dinosaur? a do-you-think-he-saurus.

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? broccoli

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? santa and the dark, no on both accounts now 

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? no, I just use apple music 

50: what’s an odd thing you collect? I dunno about odd, but I keep seashells and shark teeth I find on beaches 

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? somebody to love

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? uhhhh I’m bad at keeping up with when these come out but probably the “wait was anyone going to tell me ___ or was I supposed to find out in this ___”

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? I haven't seen these sorry!

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? my dad

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? I honestly cannot think of this right now

56: what are some things you find endearing in people? when they get excited about something, when their eyes sparkle a bit in sunlight, when they’re touchy (only certain ones), compassion, weird hobbies and interests, etc

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? it’s an experience. listen with headphones on high or don't listen to it at all

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? I guess I’d be the wine mom bc I don't drink heavily too often with my friends cause I’m usually the dd, vodka aunt would go to my friend S cause hell she puts that shit away fast

59: what’s your favorite myth? I love greek mythology

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? sappho

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received? a lil cat bank that grabs a coin with its paw and drags it into the box and a potato, respectively 

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? not usually

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? I kept all of my books on a shelf before the move but idk what imma do with them now bc I have no room for a bookcase so they're kinda messy rn

64: what color is the sky where you are right now? pale blue and cloudy

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with? a friend who moved away a few years ago, I miss her 

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? oooooh. hmm. lots of blues and pinks and purples with lil twisty brown vines?

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? I love them, 10/10, perfect. 

68: what’s winter like where you live? we either get 3 feet of snow overnight or a dusting, there’s no in between

69: what are your favorite board games? I cant remember the last time I played a board game??? I liked the game of life and monopoly when I was a kid 

70: have you ever used a ouija board? nope

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea? whatever happens to be in the cabinet!

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it? I have the memory of a goldfish

73: what are some of your worst habits? letting people get away with things they've done to me, being too lenient with people that make me uncomfortable, etc

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. they’re such a good friend and we have enough years built into our friendship that we can go a few weeks without talking and be right where we left off. they’re kind and caring and ready to help people when they need it 

75: tell us about your pets! my cat is an 8 year old lil grump, but he gets so freaking affectionate and lovey too. he knows when I’m anxious and will come up and sit on my chest and purr. my dog’s a ball of jumping energy, she's always excited and happy, she’s only 2 so hopefully she’ll mellow out. then my clownfish are flipping adorable even though they try to bite my fingers when I’m working on the aquarium 

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? unpacking and socializing with family

77: pink or yellow lemonade? pink lemonade 

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? I don't care about them really, but the facebook minion memes passed around by moms gotta stop

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? one of my exes surprise got me flowers sometimes, while the relationship just didn't work that was a cute action 

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? they’re kinda beige-ish? I just moved here and I don’t wanna repaint them

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. hmm. one of my friends’ eyes are like the leaves on the forest floor, an assortment of greens and browns blended together with the occasional fleck of gold when light filters through the trees

82: are/were you good in school? I’m okay? In high school I was in honor classes and stuff and I've made the deans list a few times in college so far, but honestly I think I’m just average. I have a lot of issues with math and it’s why I couldn't go into one of the fields I was considering. I get overwhelmed quickly

83: what’s some of your favorite album art? tbh I don't look at this kinda stuff but I know kesha’s rainbow was good?

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? ye! I want a small humpback whale on my left inner wrist, they mean a lot to me and I finally got to see one in person just last year. then I have some scars on my thigh I’ve been tossing around the idea of getting a tattoo to cover up, but idk if I would or what I would get 

85: do you read comics? what are your faves? no sorry! I always wanted to when I was younger but I got psyched out by guys who would say they're not for girls who I never took advantage of the comic shop a family friend owns 

86: do you like concept albums? which ones? I dunno what this is and I’m too tired to google it but imma guess its about music? to which I say I’m v bad at keeping up with everyones stuff 

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? the princess bride, star wars, lord of the rings, the sound of music, indiana jones (NOT crystal skull, it sucked), jurassic park, and a lottttt more. 

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? impressionism, post impressionism, and expressionism 

89: are you close to your parents? ish. 

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. I absolutely loved st. malo in france. I need to go back. it’s a giant walled city on the water and it’s just beautiful. I sat and watched an artist on the street for a while and bought two of his paintings afterward, gotta figure out where to hang them in my new bedroom. the air smelled amazing, it rained a lot when I was there but I still loved it and I wish I’d had more time to really explore than I did

91: where do you plan on traveling this year? I wanted to go to sri lanka to see my family but I don’t think it’s gonna happen, but I’ve got my fingers crossed for pennsylvania cause reasons 

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? cheese is life

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most? I braid it overnight and wear it down during the day!

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? my dad a few days ago 

95: what are your plans for this weekend? I think I’ve got another family party to go to? feel kinda done with my fam rn though

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? I literally just installed 2 years worth of updates this morning, so yeah, I procrastinate updates quite a bit 

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? idk what the first thing is but the others are scorpio and slytherin!

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? oh wow I can’t remember, but imma say yes? I wanna hike with my dog at some point 

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. somebody to love, la mer, and some others

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? 5 years into the future. I hope that future me is happy and comfy with someone she loves surrounded by their plants, aquariums, pets, and love. 

[francu-s]

Laments in 3 parts

Lament part I

Not Les Mis related just sayin’... what you find here are: feelings, life and a couple of progress pics to lessen the pain.

I know my posts are... sparse in number, to say the least. I also know that most of my followers started to follow me due to my les mis related drawings. So every time when I felt like sharing some personal details, or write a random post, I was like “ow no, don’t do it, you just waste others' time, nobody cares about your shit and so-called 'problems', they are just whinings anyway (fuck, if you want to know what 'problem' really means, check out the news)."

Almost everyone knows this feeling I guess - when your bitch of mind is your worst enemy.  

But... maybe we should take it as a challenge.

Take it as a challenge and resist the urge to say 'sorry' after telling what needs to be told, or taking the blame for something what has nothing to do with you. Say 'no' to things what you don't want to do, and don't feel bad about it. Say 'no' to shame, sorrow, doubt and fear.

Harder than one might think! I try to live like this since last month and still fail in it every day. Like, I have deleted 5 'sorry'-s and 14 self-degrading sentences so far. I do not want to say sorry for my feelings anymore, or see them a burden what's unfair to share. If writing them out helps me then I have to do so.

To be honest, I wanted to put a "keep reading" button at the very beginning, but then I realized - that's exactly the root of the problem. The need to hide away even from myself, to feel unworthy, and frightened by exposure.  

And the sad truth is that whatever happened in the past, I did this to myself. It was not a conscious decision to close up like a seashell of course, but it's time to take responsibility for myself. I have to open up. I have to re-learn how to let things in, and out. How to let a person close, be an old friend or a stranger. How to trust.

I want to be brave and happy again. I want to get better.  

So I refuse to put that "keep reading" button there.

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

Lament part II

And now... let's practise this "sharing" thing.

I work as an au-pair right now, and the little girl I look after always asks somebody to check on her after bedtime. This person is usually her mummy but she travels a lot (like, for 4 days or one whole week) due to her work, and the task then falls on me. Her mom said it isn't really necessary to do so, though - if she is sleeping she will never know if you checked on her or not. The surprising thing is that this possibility of cheating has never occurred to the little girl. Well, I skipped the check-ons many times (still do) I admit that, but I felt bad about it so I usually crept to the door as she asked, but did not go into the room. Mostly bc she was a very poor sleeper in my first couple of months with her and did not wish to wake her up accidently and screw up my night with it.

It was too good to last for long. After the third time period or so alone, she finally stated the logical question:

"How will I know if you checked on me?"

Lol, how indeed...

So that night I made her very first bedtime note. Just a silly drawing on a piece of paper, a little girl in her bed and a short message (something like "I was here at 21:15"). I made three more at that week.

It worked. She loved them.

And the thing is, her mom loved them even more. She liked them so much that she asked me to draw some more so she can collect them and put them on the wall in a nice frame, well how lovely that would be.

I was flattered and happy, said OK but from that minute I just didn't feel so thrilled about this whole bedtime note thing. As that Lakota proverb says: "Force, no matter how concealed, begets resistance." I have made more than 60 bed-time notes so far but only 10 or 15 which I really felt like, "wow I got I good idea for this one, let's do it" (I might share some of them later on). And this - to be unhappy while drawing and almost unable to perform - made me wonder if it was a good idea to pursue this utopia, to draw for a living. And I don't really dare to look at the bottom of this question bc the next logical one is this: "What to do, then?"

And the answer is... nothing. I don't want to do anything. I feel no calling, no enthusiasm by anything, or not for long enough. And I am tired and numb by fear.

The worst thing that maybe drawing IS part of the problem. ("Am I a part of the cure? Or am I part of the disease?") I can't say I'm happy when I'm drawing but I'm in this flowing, timeless state and I feel nothing then. Nothing in a good way. I thought that helps. But maybe this is just a defensive mechanism on my part - I draw bc it makes (made) me feel safe. I draw to isolate myself from the world in body, mind and soul. To shut down, don't think, just be. To procrastinate dealing with Real Life.

All I know that it makes me angry when I feel like drawing and I can't, or when I have to draw something else what I feel for (even if the former is for free and the latter is for money... especially then).

Btw money - let's get back to my host mom/boss. 2 weeks ago she asked if I would draw a picture for her company. She offered 20 pound for it and I said yes bc it actually did seem interesting, so why not? So I asked about the details but haven't gotten much, only vague ideas. I made sketches, made modifications as her idea got more clear (but not much clearer). Never, ever say yes to a job where the customer has no idea what she/he/they actually wants! (yep it seems evident now...).

I have shoved her every progress, she was happy with them.

Then, at the very end of the project, she said there was a different style in her mind. Hand-made watercoloured picture to name it.

For God's sake, man... She knew how my style looks like. She knew I was working on the computer. She saw all the WIP pics.

I thought back the late week then - all the hours I spent drawing it, all the night I could have spent working on something else, or just sleep. I mean, there was at least 3 days when I did not get away from the computer for 5 constant hours, not even to pee. I was thinking of the burning sensation in my eyes (not crying, just too much hours in front of the computer). I was doing some quick maths then - how much time did I waste on this, exactly?... Let's be gracious here - 20 hours or so.

Let's just pretend for a funny moment that I actually hold a proper job, and also pretend that a proper job can be compared to art.

The minimum wage over 25 is currently 7.20 pound per hour in the UK, I just checked it. If you are an apprentice then 3.40, this is the minimum of minimums.  

When I said OK to this project I did not do it for the money, but anyway, let's just take out our pocket calculator, shall we? (if you mess with the zero then you don't even need one:)

20 x 7.20 = 144 20 x 3.40 = 68

So. At that point, all my sense of humor has left me.

And the worst part? I felt disappointed - in myself. I felt I failed her. That the whole shit is my fault. And that after all this work, I still owe her. I owe her a finished piece of art, watercoloured as she wants, even if watercolouring (OK, colouring in general) is as far out of my comfort zone as it is possible. I am the line-art type and not the colour type of person. But I felt I have to become a master of watercolour for next day no matter what and DO THE THING.

She has been so kind to print the line-art for me. I told her that I try to do my best but for watercolouring you have to use aquarelle paper.

Some harmful, ill determination and maximalism what made me finish this project. I bought paper, brushes, watercolours, all from my own money. I was not even thinking anymore. If any HR manager asks me during a job interview if I am a dedicated person, I shall tell them this story. (Then they can send me away for being such an idiot.)

Yes, I know I am an idiot. What else can I be when I still feel disappointed in myself, convinced that she did not like the final piece and only that damned English Politeness made her say what she said, and that I almost refused to take the 20 pound when she gave it to me today?

I reckon everyone reading this has already guessed that the whole post is about "releasing some steam". Here, I release some of the progress pics, too, out of gratitude that you haven't clicked on the "unfollow" button yet:

The original concept what I got: 1) hares 2) big hats.

Some random sketches and stages:

 She wanted only 3 hares having tea and cylinders like the Mad Hatter's in Alice in Wonderland. (couldn't you just say this much at the very beginning?)

Line art without the hats

Final line-art

Here is the flower border what she asked for (and what I spent one of those constant 5 hours on), and which was not needed after all.

Before colouring

Finished colouring (it's a fabric company and they wanted to show off their new collection on the hats)

Desperate attempt to make it less line-work-ish

Final watercoloured shit

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

Lament part III

The gall of me. I am not only an idiot, but an ungrateful, selfish one.

I hesitated to post this as my mind has been mocking me with one word during the whole time while writing it:

fanfiction

I plan to dedicate a proper post for this topic alone some time. For now, I just want to say that reading fanfictions is, shame or not, one of the most important aspect of my life. I have been reading them for more than a decade now, but they were my fuel of life in the last for 3 years or so. I can't be grateful enough for all the stories which kept (and still do keep) me going, and the authors who share their work, not for 20 pound or for one million as they deserve, but for free, without any lament.

If I were religious I would say: God bless you all. I wish you the very best and everything what you might wish for yourselves.

[brittanyinterviews]

Eben Benson, Managing Editor of Juxtapoz Magazine

Eben Benson, Managing Editor of Juxtapoz Magazine

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This interview was conducted via email in November 2018.

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Brittany: Can you tell me a bit about yourself?

Eben: Hi! My name is Eben Benson, I’m 25 years old, and I’m managing editor of Juxtapoz magazine. I’m from Gorham, Maine, but live in SF now. I generally take things one day at a time.

Brittany: How did you get into writing and editing? Have you always been interested in writing?

Eben: I’ve actually never been much of a writer. I’d try writing stuff for myself in high school, but then I’d burn it because I’m dramatic and also have had a hard time creating certain types of things since I was young. I did okay in English class, and have always been a pretty strong reader, but I would get really distracted and bored in school so I never dedicated much time to it. I became a substantially better writer when I became more engaged with history and politics, which I ended up majoring in at UMass, where I went to college. So, expository writing has been more my thing.

Brittany: How did you come into your role as the Managing Editor of Juxtapoz? Did you have prior experience in publishing?

Eben: I didn’t! I was managing the web store for Thrasher magazine, which isn’t an editorial role but is in the same office as Juxtapoz. One day, my boss came downstairs and asked if I wanted to work at Juxtapoz, and I was like, “Wait, what? Seriously? I don’t know how to edit. I feel like I barely know how to read? I don’t know anything about art?” and everyone was like, “Eh, you’ll figure it out.”

Brittany: Can you describe your day-to-day in this role?

Eben: Basically I get into the office at 8 and leave at 4:30, between those hours it’s a toss-up. I spend a lot of time posting stuff on our site and social media platforms. Other than that, I edit the print mag, plan events, interview artists, check out new books, respond to Instagram DMs, and read through, like, 200 emails a day.

Brittany: You've interviewed quite a few artists about their work. In your opinion, what makes a great interview?

Eben: It’s tough, because I’m sure I drop the ball on good questions sometimes, but I think when someone writes back something funny and unexpected, they make the interview so much better. The work of course has to look nice. I hate when people send me shitty photos of their amazing art. I wanna be like, “Where are you located? I’m going to go buy a camera right now and get some higher res images because I know your art looks better than this.”

Brittany: In an interview with the graffiti artist known as SLUTO, you mentioned that you crowd-sourced questions on Instagram and scrolled through 150 of his post recent posts. Can you elaborate further on how you prepare for an interview and what research it might entail?

Eben: Yeah, I usually go deep on the IG. I’ll be back in like, 2013, looking at heavily-filtered photos of artists and their high school friends, or their emo phase, or something like that. I spend a lot of time looking at their work and their progression. I love seeing how an artist’s work has changed over the years. I’ll usually check and see if they’ve done other interviews, to make sure I don’t ask redundant questions. Thankfully, the internet has short-term memory loss, so even if I ask some of the same questions, it’ll be new to the reader.

Brittany: Have you always been a big fan of art? Can you describe your first "art memory"?

Eben: Honestly, no. I grew up on music and skateboarding, and felt like critically successful or “fine art” was some exclusive club that I was actively excluded from. I had some people just really turn me off from art, kind of shaming me for not getting it, and then I’d try to “get” it, but since there’s nothing to “get,” of course I never got close.

I think my earliest art memory was looking at a Picasso at the Portland Museum of Art (in Maine) and thinking, “Oh, this is apparently the good stuff.” I had to have been like 6, and I think I hated it. Growing up on a farm, a lot of “high culture” is really distant and kind of unattainable. I associated art with yuppie intellectuals, which isn’t entirely false, but they aren’t entirely bad. Haha.

I went to a drawing class in college because my friend was modeling for it, and this girl I was dating at the time laughed at all the sketches I made. She ended up talking hella shit on me after I started working at Juxtapoz because she went to art school and I didn’t. I think it was people like her who made me think art was bullshit, and there are plenty of people like that. I just don’t hang out with them anymore.

Brittany: Who are artists we should know about, particularly any local ones in the Bay Area?

Eben: Wheeew. Well, I am going to ramble here. In no particular order: Jeffrey Cheung, Oliver Hawk Holden, Calvin Wong, Muzae Sesay, Casey Grey, Yetunde Olagbaju, Kristin Farr, Lena Gustafson, Nychos, Joe Roberts (LSD World Peace), George Rocha, Paige Gausman, Alán González, Ellie Andrews, Max Stern, Olivia Krause, Elizabeth Yoshiko Schmidt, Cannon Dill, Brett Flanigan, Anson Cyr, Austin Leong, Maryam Yousif, Marcela Pardo Ariza, Meryl Pataky, Kellen Chasuk, Anika Chasuk, Laura Rokas, Robbie Api, Michelle Fleck, Terry Hoff, Bryon Christman, Yarrow Slaps, Joonbug, Odysseus Wolken, Ryan Whelan, Liz Hernández, Sofie Ramos, Tim Diet, and damn, a few more. The Bay Area is the shit, there is so much good stuff happening here right now.

That’s more the younger up-and-coming crowd. Then you have the legends obviously: Alicia McCarthy, Barry McGee, Rigo23, Jeremy Fish, John DeFazio. There are more I’m forgetting…

Brittany: I think you use social media, specifically Twitter and Instagram, in a fascinating way. Although both are public accounts, you discuss very real, potentially sensitive, and very personal issues around topics like mental health that are still often seen as off-limits. Is using social media in this very public way a conscious effort? Can you speak more about how you approach using social media?

Eben: I think it’s odd that my generation has been on social media for more than half our lives. Starting out on Myspace, AIM, and forums like 4chan, etc, the internet definitely became a very normal part of my life at an early age. Then, moving on to Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Reddit, Slap magazine, etc. became organic too. I hit my self-conscious adolescence at the same time the internet was in its adolescent phase, so I was very fragmented in the way I used it. I would post the most random shit, trying to keep it “safe” and not, like, overshare. I used to be freaked out a lot, thinking of every person who might see anything I do.

Around 2013, I started opening up a little more, I think that was when I got Instagram. I definitely used it in a lot more boring way, just not as self-conscious as before. In 2015, I got super depressed and started just pouring it out online. I was spiraling hard, but it was nice to have some company and to feel a little bit seen, even if I was being annoying in my head. Then at one point, I kinda synthesized the self-conscious and manic-sharing, where I recognize that seeking validation will only solve half the problem, but also that no one has to follow me, so I have the “right” to be as personal as I want, and if someone really hates it, they can unfollow me, and that’s fine. I think my progression in how I use social media reflects my own mental health progression. Coming to terms with who I am has made me more comfortable sharing what I’m going through, or what I think, and at the same time, the internet is now growing up in a way, too, where we collectively know that whatever you post will be quickly forgotten anyway, at no fault of our own, so why not just live it up online? Four years ago I would have been bummed out that nearly everyone reading this interview has clicked out by now, but me at 25 is entirely fine with that and I’m having fun talking about myself. Haha.

Brittany: What can readers expect to see from you in the future?

Eben: Hopefully I’ll introduce people to new, challenging, and talented artists that make work they like. Hopefully they can get a few laughs or feel some comradery in the feelings or thoughts that we share, and hopefully at some point I can make a big enough mark on the world that I will leave it slightly nicer than it would have been if I never materialized.

In the meantime, like I said at the beginning, I’ll be taking it day by day. Thanks, Brittany <3

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Photo provided by Eben Benson.

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Special thanks to Eben for discussing his work at Juxtapoz with us. You can follow Eben on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.