#he’s been my inspiration for YEARS?? his style is what I’d want my art to be like !

[c00kiesart]

✨👽💖🍩✨

Twitter // kofi

[ranchstoryblog]

Ranch Story Community Q&A Volume 3: Igusa Matsuyama Returns!

Igusa Matsuyama, the legendary artist behind the Story of Seasons series since the original 1996 game has once again agreed to a Q&A featuring questions from fans from around the world! A big thank you to all the members of the community who helped make this possible.

Some aspects of the text have been altered to match localization people are familiar with. (Japanese names to English names, for example: Bokujou Monogatari (牧場物語) was formerly localized as Harvest Moon and is now localized as Story of Seasons, etc). Images were not part of the original text and have been added as a visual aid. Though we translated as many questions as we could, we did not include questions involving personal information or regarding unannounced releases. Please understand.

If you would like to read our original correspondence (in Japanese), that will be provided in a separate post.

Additional cosplay photo provided by Foxface from our community Discord.

Translations: @artycharmy (correspondence, outline) Editing and Clean-up: Jerome, @artycharmy, and @regularcelery

——— Anonymous asks: What is the relationship between Jamie and the Harvest Goddess?

Igusa Matsuyama: Jamie was treated as a fairy or spirit. I'm sorry, but I'm not sure if there's any points that link them and the Goddess.

Editor's note: the term Matsuyama uses is "妖精."

Tomato asks: I would like to ask about what their inspiration was for the outfits designs in the original release of harvest moon another wonderful life. Since I got reminded of the girl clothing brand Mezzo Piano when looking at the I love Kuma/I love bears outfit.

Igusa Matsuyama: I remember the only thing I thought of was using Spring-like colours! (All designs were made with seasonal colours In mind) When I knew that Daachan, who was planned to be used in a lot of events, wouldn't actually play a big role in the game, I put him on the T-Shirt so he could at least get some attention as a mascot-like existence.

Pansy asks: If you were able to create your own game for the Story of Seasons franchise, with no rules or limitations whatsoever, what do you think it might look like?

Igusa Mastuyama: Since I love dogs, I'd like to try making a Story of Seasons that's set in a world just full of dogs. Though that dream of mine probably won't come true.

Anonymous asks: The look of Story of Seasons has changed a lot over the years! What would you say is more challenging to create - simple designs, where you have to work with very little space, or complicated designs, where you have to consider many little details?

Igusa Matsuyama: A long time ago there were a lot of things you weren't able to replicate in video games. There were constraints for things like the number of colours and patterns for hair styles and clothes. It was difficult to work around those constraints, but at the same time a lot of fun. Nowadays, it's the complete opposite. Now we can design anything with hardly any constraints. And unlike a long time ago, now I'm asked to make more complicated designs, like patterns and decorations. However, if it's a big request, sometimes I run into quite a lot of trouble when designing. They each have had their own difficulties.

Anonymous asks: Hello, Matsuyama! Thank you for bringing the worlds of Bokujou Monogatari to life for many years. Your art has had a huge influence on me!

One of my favorite candidates is “Rock” from “A Wonderful Life.” I’d love to know any particular influences for his character design from 21 years ago, and his new design for the remake.

Igusa Matsuyama: I was told that he was a young, wannabe playboy, so I somehow ended up with that sort of design. For the remake, I made his clothes a little looser without changing his design, so he'd look even more playful. I, too, wanted to avoid changing him as much as I could as there are other people among the staff that also like the original for his “Rockness”. So, he got that makeover after everybody shared and checked their opinions with each other.

Jerome asks: On page 130 of the "Special Comic" manga there's artwork of Super Famicom characters that have never been printed anywhere else. Do you or Marvelous still have these? It would be great to see them in more detail in the future some time.

Igusa Matsuyama: They're all characters that appeared in the SNES version of "Harvest Moon." Nina's parents, Ellen's mother, Ann's father, Maria's parents (The mayor couple). I'm sorry. My SNES illustrations have gone missing...

Raven Bloom, Ryan, and Moth ask: How did you feel when your designs for the men in A Wonderful Life were repurposed to be bachelors? What do you think of the changes made to the bachelors in the remake of A Wonderful Life? I miss the “Bruce Campbell” look Matthew used to have.

Igusa Matsuyama: Matthew (マシュー) is Masshu (マッシュ) in the Japanese A Wonderful Life (Editors note: Charmy made a careless mistake when translating the questions, sorry Matsuyama san 🫣) When I first heard this name, the first thing that came to mind was Evil Dead's protagonist, Ash. You're right. I designed him after Bruce Campbell. I still love Bruce Campbell today. When Wonderful Life was under production, I had heard they weren't going to make a girl version, so I designed him not as a love interest, but as a quirky character. Knowing that he'd appear in the remake as a marriage candidate, I redesigned him as a character that would be liked by many. I hope you can enjoy the game for its nostalgia, as well as for being a shiny, brand new release.

Salmon Axe and Anonymous ask: I personally adore Doraemon x SOS game. Are you interested in working directly with or collaborating with other franchises in the future? And is there a series outside Story of Seasons you would like to work with now as a guest artist? (Could it be Pokemon?)

Igusa Matsuyama: I've loved Doraemon manga since I was a kid! Working as a guest artist? Hmm, I'm happier being the main illustrator, so nothing in particular comes to mind. I enjoy a lot of games in my free time, such as Fallout, Far Cry and Border Lands.

Anonymous asks: Even though we never see his face, was there ever a concept of how Woofio would look without his costume?

Igusa Matsuyama: I designed Woofio as the being that is Woofio, so there's no design of him without his costume.

Idris asks: Your style has upgraded a lot over the time to match the trends. Do you think you will ever go for an old school look (early HM) for a SoS game again? What do you think is the secret to your art’s charm?

Igusa Matsuyama: What I'm particular about when designing for Story of Seasons is making characters with head/body proportions and an atmosphere that go well with that release. First, I listen to the client's request then think of a design according to that. These days, game visuals have gotten fancier and fancier, so there's not many opportunities for characters with short proportions to make an appearance. To me, what's important when designing is "playfulness." More so than "pretty" or "cool" and such, I get attached to the character, have fun making the character. I find joy in character creation itself.

MacGyver asks: Yasuhiro Wada has shared some interesting stories about how chaotic the original game's development was. Is there anything interesting you remember from around that time? 

Igusa Matsuyama: Now it's a memory I can look back on and laugh about, but I'm not sure how much I can talk about it so please forgive me. If Wada hadn't been there back then, then "Harvest Moon" wouldn't have become a thing.

Toyberb and Anonymous ask: There’s a lot of different cow designs now, which is your favorite to draw?

Igusa Matsuyama: I've loved drawing animals since I was a kid, so I love all of the cows. Although the easiest one to draw is the cow with the big nose.

Anonymous asks: Were there any games where you made designs for protagonists of genders that did not end up available to play as? (Like a girl protagonist for Save the Homeland/Hero of Leaf Valley or a nonbinary protagonist for any game before A Wonderful Life)

Igusa Matsuyama: There's so many designs that got scrapped, but as far as I recall, there's not really many where that character's setting itself was scrapped. (Excluding Thumbelina, mentioned below)

Koharu asks: Were there ever any character designs made for other older SNES characters like Ellen for 64? Some magazines had Marie with blue hair, like the SNES character, so it made me wonder if she (SNES Maria) was meant to also be there at some point.

Igusa Matsuyama: I'm not in the position to make settings or scenarios where characters from other games appear, so I can't say, but I like the idea of older characters making an appearance!

Amina/k0iisu asks: Hello! I really love Hiro’s design specifically. Could you tell me a few facts about him/his design that might not be well known information? Thank you so much! I love your art :D

Igusa Matsuyama: Thank you very much! Hiro is a future doctor, so I tried to make them look as much like a doctor as I could. Also, to make him look friendlier, I designed him as your average everyday boy you'd see in the neighbourhood. He doesn't have a flashy face or hairstyle, but he's one of my favourite designs, too. I wrote this in the guidebook too, but what I like about him is the Asian flair I added to his clothes and the spot of colour around his feet.

Bunbun asks: I'm excited for the Nendoroid that was announced of Claire! I hope there will be ones of HM64 designs too. Since you have a lot of figures on your blog, how does it feel to be able to add one of your own characters to your collection? Are there any of your other characters you hope will get figures of?

Igusa Matsuyama: A nendoroid of Claire! I'm looking forward to it too, but when is it going to be released? If it's possible, I'd like one of Woofio.

Editor's note: Preorders are open for Nendoroid Claire now!

Chickee asks: A purple-haired princess character was rumored to have existed in Harvest Moon 64, but she didn't make it to the published game. Did you create a design for this character?

Igusa Matsuyama: That's probably Princess Thumbelina. Wasn't she Incredibly small? What I designed didn't end up being used. Speaking of HM64 characters, I pushed for them to include a pet turtle, but in the end it only appeared as an ornament. For A Wonderful Life, I asked for a turtle to be included again and designed a tortoise with a scarf, but it didn't make it as a pet and appeared only as a wild turtle that walks around the pond. I'm waiting for the day they finally include a pet turtle in the game.

emery flower147 asks: omg  I saw the pics where the AWL girls are in a team and Muffy has a shotgun and stuff? Do you think any other characters would work in a cool team like that?

Igusa Matsuyama: For the Friends of Mineral Town guide book, I had the five girls, Popuri, Marie, Ran, Elly and Karen work hard as Harvest Sprites. Also, for the guide books, I drew Pete (The old male protagonist), Sarah (The GB version female protagonist), and Claire doing whatever I wanted them to. I don't know if you can call it cool or not, but it was fun being in charge of that.

Ixur asks: A lot of the PoOT character designs for the regular villagers seem more popular than the marriage candidates in my region. Is that something that's been noticed by you/Marvelous in Japan? Lars, Clemens, Beth, and Misaki for example.

Igusa Matsuyama: Marvelous doesn't really talk about that sort of thing so I'm not sure if they're aware of it or not. I don't do social media so I'm also not sure which characters are popular. I'm happy as long as the characters are liked. The design on Lars’s shirt is modeled after my beloved dog, so I’d be especially happy if you like his shirt too.

Anonymous asks: What do you think about people cosplaying your designs?

Igusa Matsuyama: It makes me very happy! I'm no good at sewing, so I really admire people who can make their own clothes. It's an honour having the designs I made be made into real clothes, and I think it's great to have fun acting out the characters.

Afro Fae asks: When creating designs for characters, how do you settle on a specific color palette? Do you take color meanings into account with a character's personality or do you go purely off of feeling?

Igusa Matsuyama: I keep in mind the overall colours the client asked for while designing. Sometimes I propose a new colour when I think there's one that fits better. I'm also careful when choosing colours and everyone's traits to make sure it's easy to tell which character is which when seen from a distance. However, in the cases of families and such, I do the opposite and give them all a common colour to give them a sense of kinship.

———

From all of us at Ranch Story, we'd like to thank Matsuyama from the bottom of our hearts for answering our questions again! Whether a fan has only just discovered the series or has grown up alongside it, so many people have loved these characters and worlds that Igusa Matsuyama brings to life, so it feels truly special to be able to have this opportunity. We'll end this article with Matsuyama's own words, as well as a parting gift.

Igusa Matsuyama: I'm so glad I could answer your questions again. I'm the one that should be saying thank you. It means the world to me knowing that everyone enjoys my illustrations! I added an illustration as thanks. I'll keep up the hard work!

[bigdvmnhero]

relationships: dick & tim

word count: 6,019

summary:

“I—” Tim recalibrated. Desperately, he scanned Dick’s face—his features blurred over, a wall of nothing; Tim chipped away: “You were a kid, who’ll blame a kid? They won’t hurt anyone again. If you want to, to, to talk to anyone—but it was a long time ago, you’re Nightwing now—”

Tuesday morning: a video was uploaded to one of the deep web black markets. The footage, shot on those grainy vintage camcorders. But Tim knew that boy in the thumbnail; his eyes had memorized him, the heft and shape and dazzle of him, imprinting like an afterimage.

Or: a brother is a witness; there's your tragedy.

::

The apartment had that new-in-town smell: mothballs and desperation. Boxes upon boxes were strewn on the floor. One of them had a dirty plate forgotten on top of it. Old pad thai grease. Armed to the teeth in his full Robin regalia, Tim felt vaguely underdressed in Dick’s kitchen—like there was a speech to do, and he was already forgetting the words.

“Did I lose you again?” Dick said, through a mouthful of his second demolished mango. He was eating them fatherless-style. Dick had been talking about—insurance, maybe. “What’s up?”

Across him, Tim straightened. “Nothing, just.” Mortified, thinking about how I almost spritzed myself with cologne before coming here. What was this, prom? Tim just needed this to go better than last time, was all.

Last time: Tim’s absolute trashfire of a Bludhaven visit; Dick’s rictus of a smile; Dick’s face going bloodless in the half-dark as Tim mentioned Bruce’s adoption offer, absolute god-tier cringe; why’d he do that? It was the same look Dick wore, that first time Tim brandished the original Robin suit from its glass case. Of course Dick disappeared then, all dark and brooding into the night, seeyanara, or never; Tim never could stomach a Never.

He wanted to tell Dick he was working hard to learn it, too—the Bat’s art of Sheer Presence. The way its silhouette inspired awe, stillness. That lately Dick spooked easy, like an animal trying not to be seen. That on nights Tim was almost catatonic with grief, his first half-formed thought was, I want my brother.

Tim said, “It’s not every day you eat scrambled mangoes in Richard Grayson’s apartment.”

“Ever since I saw one of our knife-throwers eat it like this, I always wanted to try it.” Dick picked up a comically large knife and bisected the mango, carving the hairy seed out, before scraping its insides silly. He handed one of the halves to Tim, anointing it with a too-big spoon. Where was this man’s cutlery? “It’s supposed to look like a bowl, then you can walk around eating like that. Neat, huh?”

“Guess so.” Tim accepted Dick’s mango concoction with a smile. Maybe a spoonful, to be polite. Watch and weep, Alfred. “You know, I always wanted to try eating a mango like an apple.”

“Well, we got two left,” Dick snorted, digging into the plastic bag. “Make your dreams come true?”

Do, please. Truth was, Tim daydreamed of it often—no capes, no mission, the solace of a brother only a nightmare-city away, and his quiet balcony. If Tim was lucky, a heart-to-heart. Namely, about the No Good, Very Bad Year he was having.

Same one he was sure Dick was going through now, if only Dick deigned to tell him anything.

“Let’s try it together,” Tim said, conspiratory. “Skin and everything. Sprinkle some seasoning. Alfred would call it… positively diabolical.”

“Oh, I’d move heaven and earth to see that look on that man’s face again.” Dick tipped the mango-bowl into his mouth, then licked his lips with sticky satisfaction. “God. This stuff is top-shelf. Which sunny, tropical island did you pick them from, Tim—the Philippines?”

“Just a freebie. From a grateful citizen.”

Wow, and he was starting to lie to Dick the way he lied to Bruce: with alarmingly little remorse!

The truth: Tim had seen the streetcam footage. Dick Grayson liked to linger longer than normal by that market stall on Hammerstone; stuff was always overpriced, but he stayed for the small talk, exchanging recipes and turning over spotted fruit, face soft with a small secret joy until some goon on busted tires screeched by, or the disembodied voice in his comm summoned him back into the fold—exit Richard Grayson, bereft of mangoes.

“A freebie, huh?” Dick said.

Tim shrugged. “Stopped a mugging on my way here.”

“‘Course you did.”

Tim looked up to see a secret smile on Dick’s face, the dimple deepening. Tim ducked his head—it was always intense when Dick did that, holding your eyes to wait for his words to land. When Dick pushed himself away from the table, Tim was glad to look without being seen.

The scrape on Dick’s elbow matched Batman’s data: Nightwing smashed himself free from a plexiglass wall when it came down on him; there was that wispy patch of petrified-looking hair near his left ear where the flames nearly singed his scalp off. Take a few drunk accidental teenage arsons, a rice cooker, and a wall outlet that hadn’t been maintained since the 80s, and you get a nice, toasty residential building that collapsed in forty minutes. With their training, Nightwing should’ve been in and out in five, tops.

Dick coughed as he groped inside the cupboard. Lung irritation, Tim noted. Possible airway inflammation. Shoddy haircut. Dick must’ve tried to trim the charred split ends. If Tim was there. If Tim had covered his blind spot. If Tim was someone Dick could count on from time to time, maybe.

Maybe.

If, if, if.

“Sorry, haven’t stocked the fridge yet,” Dick said. “Water fine?”

“Yep,” Tim says, popping the P, and looked at the carpet the moment Dick’s stagelight-eyes turned his way. His gaze had scanned Tim with that same cataloging sweep earlier. If Dick noticed the weight of Tim’s Mission, paling him like some kind of sepsis, he said nothing. Tim knew what Dick was trying to do. This polite distance, not quite cold, not quite warm, was a dead sea any man could drown in. Bruce currently was. Dick intended to leave Tim here too, in the rolling distance, where no eyes could follow. Fat fucking chance.

Watch me on the trapeze, Tim, said Dick from the memory; staring from a boy’s impish face; those torch-bright eyes, holding his frightened ones. I’m going to do my act—’specially for you. And Tim had watched. And Tim had never stopped, how could he ever stop?

“So, this friendly visit…” Dick slid him a chipped mug of water. “B asked you to check in, or is this gonna be a regular thing from now?”

“Naw, I was just,” Tim waved vaguely. “around.”

“And you got free mangoes.”

Tim sipped. “Thought I’d share my spoils of war.”

The cold hard truth: Tim needed a reason to see his brother now. A work reason. No one wasted Nightwing’s time. While dodging stilted dinners at the manor and Bruce’s guilt-marred face, Tim had spent the better part of his days turning the adoption offer in his head, plugging a fake uncle into his stage-life, not calling Dick, and tracking transactions in the deep web black markets. He had a lead to a CP ring tied to Gotham’s cluster of orphanages—just more children slipping through Her fingers, with no one to come looking. But Tim was looking now. Ten years too late, maybe, but looking all the same.

Bless Barbara and her detailed surveillance notes. He’d set up the alert as instructed and lost himself in the Styx waters of rote work, wading deep, the world submerged into the dull clack of fingers on a keyboard.

Tuesday morning, a new video was uploaded—the price tag: half a million in crypto.

The preview was fifteen seconds long. The footage, cast in near-darkness, had grain matching those recorded on a point-and-shoot that hadn’t been in the market for at least eight years. JVC VHS-C Camcorder, that was how old it was. But Tim knew that figure in the thumbnail. Canary-yellow cape, bloodied knees and pixie boots. A costume for someone ten apples tall.

Only one Robin was fighting against the affliction that was Gotham in single digits. And Tim would know him; his eyes had memorized him, the heft and shape and dazzle of him, imprinting like an afterimage.

Watch me on the trapeze, Tim.

“Get a visual,” was all Batman said, when he called an hour before. This was a case he didn’t think Batman was even supposed to know about, but Tim didn’t press; that voice, floundering in the undercurrent, was all Bruce. “I’ll take care of things here.”

Lung irritation, Tim thought. Grainy footage. Bruce’s cryptic-as-hell phone call. Charred split ends. Nightwing’s casual suicidal patrols? Yeah, Tim was going to dry-heave across Dick’s apartment floor; the inside of his mouth was all sour, like something gone bad overnight. Dick knew about the leak, but not that Batman and his underperforming Robin were on the case, too. Tim was gonna have to do it again—like his first day at the Cave, digging up the memory of Dick’s ghosts, not letting the damn dead stay dead.

Dick threw a hand towel at Tim’s face with a laugh. “Wipe your mouth, Timmy.”

Nicknames, huh.

If Dick hated him, he was hiding it well. Like a child, Tim obediently cleaned the pulp from his mouth. Then, like a coward: “Could I—bathroom?”

read the rest on ao3

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

in which lunch is had, old stories are told, and a misunderstanding is cleared up.

part five of the post-marineford portion of the near miss fics! (1, 2, 3, 4) if you have no idea what i'm talking about but would like to read a shanks/buggy story about kissing in disguise and then having to deal with the emotional fallout of doing that, click on this link, that's the tag for the whole thing in chronological order. (plus some complaining about writing, one inspirational improvised musical number, and a snippet of shanks pov) if you do know what i'm talking about: my intense examination of the cover to chapter 581 and frustrated googling of phrases like “oden cart curtain name” has finally paid off! also, i’d apologize for where this part ends, but that would be an enormous lie, i’ve been planning on ending this part on that line from the very beginning. >:3c enjoy!

With heavier topics taken off the table, the flow of conversation became smooth and easy.  Shanks asked about Buggy’s crew, his recent travels, his plans for the future; Buggy asked about the best places Shanks had been, who he’d met.  At Buggy’s request, Shanks devoted a full twenty minutes to a detailed description of his meeting with Rayleigh; to Buggy’s delight, it turned out Rayleigh was in Sabaody because Shakuyaku, the former Amazon empress, lived there.  Buggy had always been impressed by her, if a little privately judgy of her taste in men, so hearing that the two of them had semi-retired together made him smile.

As did the revelation that Shanks had first seen a wanted poster for Buggy the Clown—his earliest one, actually, before he’d perfected the crossbones and had still been experimenting with lip tints—when Rayleigh pulled a copy out that day.  “He keeps an eye on all the newspapers, from the four big seas and the Grand Line alike,” Shanks explained, digging his toes into the sand. (Buggy had gotten tired of his push-pull relationship with the tides and insisted they move further up the beach.) “I think he’s found and kept a copy of every one of our bounties.”

Buggy tried not to be obvious about how much that meant, but he had never been good at holding back the waterworks when he got emotional.  Sniffing thickly, he said, “That stupid old man… your bounty’s gone up so many times over the years without the picture ever looking different!  What a waste of his space.”

One of Shanks’ eyebrows went up—probably, Buggy realized a moment later, at the implication that Buggy had also been keeping track of Shanks’ bounties.  Ah, well, in for a penny… “Seriously!  It’s bad design!” Buggy insisted.  “If the only changes someone like me ever noticed are that you grew that shitty little beard—”

“Shitty?”  Shanks pouted, running his thumb along his jawline.  “It’s not that bad, is it?”

“It’s worse without the mustache,” Buggy said bluntly.  Shanks played up his shock, gasping and grabbing at his heart like an elderly man.

Buggy rolled his eyes.  “As I was saying: if all I ever noticed was the beard and that your hat disappeared at some point, your average citizen’s not going to realize the Marines have released a new poster and the bounty went up!”  Jabbing a thumb brazenly at his own face, Buggy said, “At least I had something new going on each time.”

Shanks cocked his head at Buggy.  “About that… do you change your makeup style so often for fun, or are you still searching for the perfect look?”

Buggy scoffed.  “There’s no such thing as perfection when it comes to art, or fashion,” he said.  “There’s just advancing your craft.  Every time I change my look up, I’m incorporating newer and flashier techniques, and better supplies.  The makeup I had access to fifteen, even ten years ago would never have lasted a day in Impel Down, let alone weeks.”

“That’s true,” Shanks said thoughtfully, hand on his chin.  “The stuff you have these days is much—” He cut himself off, glancing over Buggy’s shoulder.  Buggy turned to see a cluster of men in ragged prison uniforms standing maybe forty feet away, staring at them and then glancing away awkwardly when they met Buggy’s eye.

“I told them not to bother me today,” Buggy grumbled, giving the group a half-hearted glare.  They visibly quaked, knees knocking, but neither moved nor explained themselves.

“I guess our presence is interfering with their shore leave,” Shanks said, slipping back into his sandals.

Looking past the men revealed the beach had gotten crowded while Buggy wasn’t paying attention—save for a fifty-foot ring of emptiness centered on him and Shanks.  These men had only approached them because there wasn’t anywhere else to be.  Sighing, Buggy stood up, brushing sand off the seat of his pants.

“Lead the way, then,” he said grimly.

With a polite smile and a wave to the former prisoners, Shanks walked back up the beach.  Buggy gave them a glare, and a threatening slice-your-throat gesture (made more emphatic by the way Buggy separated his neck as he sliced) to encourage their silence before following Shanks further inland.

The terrain got a bit jungle-like as they went on, but there were neatly trodden paths between the trees.  It was a civilized corner of nature, and Buggy found he didn’t mind walking through it with just Shanks and his questions for company, even when those questions started getting a bit specific for Buggy’s tastes. (What did Shanks need to know about his plans after he found Captain John’s treasure, anyway?  Was he trying to go after Buggy’s next prize while he was still busy with the current one?)

It was the middle of the lunch hour by the time their jungle path led them back into town, which was almost suspiciously convenient timing.  Buggy glanced at Shanks, trying to figure out if he’d planned this or was just aimlessly wandering.  Well, either way he’d better lead them somewhere soon—Buggy was hungry!  He wanted to eat the kind of food he couldn’t get back on the ship—nothing a typical chef in a typical kitchen could manage.  He wanted something that involved a deep fryer, or another equally specialized device.  Something that would be too much of a hassle to make on a ship.  Something…

“Hey!”  Shanks turned to grab Buggy’s attention, pointing at a yatai on the opposite street corner.  “What about that?”

Buggy spotted the word written in bold white letters on slate gray cloth and started to laugh. “What are we, on a themed vacation or something?”

“You’re the one who put the idea in my head!” Shanks said defensively, grinning.  “I know it’s out of season, but…”

“No, you’re right, we have to,” Buggy said, and led them to the oden-ya.  “I’m just going to look like I’m obsessed, is all.”

Ducking under the bamboo noren curtains, they found themselves in a cozy space, with three stools set up along a polished wooden table the same length as the cooktop.  A gorilla mink stood behind the partitioned oden pot, rotating skewers of fishcake in their niches within the steaming broth.  He glanced up at their entrance, a friendly customer service smile spreading across his face.

“Welcome!  Looking for oden this afternoon, or just something to drink?”  He gestured to one side, where beautiful little sake flasks and other bottles of alcohol were arranged on shelves that took up the whole side wall of the cart.  “I’d be happy to warm a flask of sake up for you on the stove if you’d like.”

“We’re looking for both, thanks,” Shanks said warmly, stepping up to the counter.  “I don’t suppose any of your sake is sourced from Wano?”

The mink wrinkled his nose thoughtfully.  “I may have some in storage, but that stuff tend to run a little pricier, given… well, if you’re asking for it, you must know.”

“Of course you have expensive tastes in booze and nothing else,” Buggy said with a smirk, bent down to inspect the sake that was actually meant for sale.  “Come on, look, they’ve got some West Blue stuff, you were always a sucker for your home ocean.”

“Oh?”  Shanks leaned over Buggy to get a better look at the stock, and a prickle of heat went up Buggy’s spine.  “Ooh, I do like that stuff.  But I really had my heart set on something from Wano…”  Turning back to the mink, he said, “Sorry to trouble you, but can you bring out what you have from Wano?  I promise the price isn’t an issue, and I won’t have any problem drinking a flask of each.”  The mink ducked around back without complaint.

“More like a couple flasks of each,” Buggy muttered, but he didn’t mean it cruelly.  Shanks liked a drink, he always had—and rumor said the last time he saw Whitebeard before all this he’d matched him cup for cup.  Whitebeard-sized cups, too, which meant he had to have a crazy tolerance these days.  Good for him.  Buggy wasn’t quite as capable, but he could hold his liquor.  He wouldn’t be any kind of ex-Roger Pirate if he couldn’t.

“Guilty,” Shanks said, sing-songy, reaching over Buggy’s shoulder to snatch one of the larger bottles of shochu.  “Can you grab a flask or two of the West Blue sake for me?”

Buggy rolled his eyes, grabbing two.  “One of them’s for me.”

“We can share,” Shanks said mildly.

Buggy snorted. “If by ‘share’ you mean I get one cup and by the time I’ve finished it the flask is empty, sure, we can share.”

Shanks laughed.  “Am I that bad?”

“You’re just too fast about it is all.  I like to linger over a drink, really savor it.”

“Oh, you like to take your time, do you?”  Shanks’ smile, already suggestively wide, spread wider still when this comment flustered Buggy.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he snapped.

“No?”

Why do you sound disappointed, Buggy was tempted to ask—except no, no he wasn’t, he did not want to know why Shanks might be disappointed Buggy hadn’t intended to be suggestive.  He had already decided he wasn’t going there.  “I just mean you rush things a bit.”

“…do I?”

Once again feeling like Shanks was reading things into what he was saying, but this time not at all sure what deeper meaning Shanks was taking from his words, Buggy averted his eyes, setting the pair of sake flasks down in front of the stove top.  “Yeah, I know you like getting drunk, but there’s such a thing as pacing yourself, you know?”

Before Shanks could respond to this—with who knows what kind of misinterpretation of Buggy’s words this time—the mink returned, a crate of sake in flasks and jugs of various sizes in hand.

“Here we are!”  With a soft grunt of effort, the mink set the crate down in front of Shanks.  “Let me know if anything catches your eye.”  He spotted the flasks of West Blue sake Buggy had set down and quickly made room in a pot of steaming water for them to sit and warm up.  “Now, were any items looking especially appealing today?”

Buggy glanced sideways; Shanks was occupied with intently inspecting the sake.  Well, if he wanted something specific he could ask for it later.  “Two bowlfuls of whatever the chef recommends, for now.”

The gorilla nodded.  “Coming right up!”  And he was as good as his word, quickly throwing together a wide, shallow bowl of savory golden-brown broth with a skewer of fishcakes, an egg, and a few slices of daikon for each of them. It looked wonderful, warm and familiar, and it smelled even better.

Before Buggy could take a sip, Shanks had flung his arm across Buggy’s chest, blocking the spoonful of broth from reaching his mouth.

“Hang on,” Shanks said, weirdly serious.  “You have to have this first.”  He held out a small flask of Wano sake, tilted just far enough to encourage Buggy to grab a cup and accept the pour.

“Not warmed up?”  Shanks expression didn’t so much as twitch.  Buggy huffed.  “Fine, fine... you and your expensive tastes.”  He accepted the cup, swirled it for a moment to breathe in the aroma—they really did make it different in Wano; was it something in the water, or the rice?—and took a sip.  Then blinked, goggled at the half-drunk cup, and slung back the rest with a warm floaty feeling in his chest.

Setting the cup down, he breathed, “Is that...?”

Shanks grinned.  “Special pure rice brew.”  He spun the flask around to reveal the maker’s mark.  “From the Kuri region of Wano.”

Buggy snatched the flask away.  Looking it over, he said, “Seriously?! From the same brewery?”

“And you wondered why I was so insistent.”

Buggy shook his head, laughing a little in disbelief, and poured Shanks a cup of the stuff.  He glanced up at their host, politely not bothering them even though he had to be confused, and said, “This exact same sake was the first drink the two of us had, back when we were—what, eleven? Twelve?”

“Something like that,” Shanks said, watching Buggy with a pleased smile.  “Stolen out of Oden’s rooms on a dare—”

“—you’re the one who dared me!” Buggy snapped.  Thinking back, he added, “And he must have let us take it, we weren’t sneaky enough at twelve to get past Oden—”

“—oh, definitely,” Shanks agreed.  “Bet he thought of it as a rite of passage, stealing your first drink from under the nose of your honored elders.”

Buggy snorted.  “Definitely,” he echoed.  Giving Shanks a look, he passed this flask along to the mink as well.  “This stuff isn’t so fancy heating it will ruin the taste, right?  Might as well try it the way it was meant to be had.”

“Of course,” the mink said with a gracious smile, adding the flask to the steaming pot on his stove.  He watched the two of them dig into their bowls—delicious, of course—without comment, but as he carefully retrieved the first of the West Blue flasks from its bath he said, “Now, I haven’t thought about this in a long time, so I’m afraid I can’t quite recall… which of you is Shanks and which is Buggy?”

Buggy blinked dumbly up at the gorilla, his mouth full of radish.  Next to him, Shanks was pulling a similar face.

Hastily swallowing his mouthful, Buggy cleared his throat and said, “You know… both of us by name? But not well enough to know which is which on sight?”

The gorilla smiled sheepishly.  “I wasn’t sure until you brought up Oden.  That’s Kozuki Oden, isn’t it?  Which means the two of you must be Shanks and Buggy, they were the only other young people on the boat in all the stories I heard.”

“What stories?”

“‘The only other young people’…” Shanks lit up.  “Do you know Dogstorm and Cat Viper?”

Buggy nearly smacked Shanks.  “Seriously?!  Not every mink knows each other, Shanks!”

“Heh, actually...”  Buggy stared up at the gorilla mink in disbelief as he shrugged, making an embarrassed expression.  “The truth is, I only learned how to prepare oden at Duke Dogstorm’s request.”

“Duke Dogstorm?”  Shanks whistled.  “Somebody’s moved up in the world.”

Buggy jabbed him in the side with a free-floating elbow.  “I don’t want to hear that from you, Emperor Shanks!”

Shanks winced—an exaggerated gesture for the benefit of their audience—and leaned away from Buggy.  “Oh, come on,” he whined, “it’s not like I meant to become an emperor or anything.”

“Oh, of course not,” Buggy said, rolling his eyes and shoving a piece of tsukune in his mouth.  Eyes shut, he declared, “I’ll bet I can tell you exactly how it happened, too.  You had a meal with some mediocre pirate crew and made friends. Then some shitty Marines started beating the hell out of them; they could’ve just arrested the crew, but they decided to torture them for their own amusement.  Well, you could hardly let this abuse go unchallenged, could you?  So naturally you had to step in, and sent the Marines running with their tails between their legs.  And it was only natural that the pirate crew was thankful to you, but you never dreamed they’d all vow to follow you forever, forswearing their own flag in favor of yours.  Not daring to call themselves true Red-Haired Pirates, of course, but Red-Haired Pirates adjacent.”  Rolling his wrist, Buggy concluded, “And then that happened another twenty or thirty times, because you never learn.”

Opening one eye a crack, he glanced at Shanks.  “How’d I do?”

Shanks, red-faced, his fist pressed to his mouth to hold back laughter, nodded weakly.  “Well, uh... you’re not wrong,” he wheezed out.  Taking a drink to clear his throat and calm down, he sighed.  “Though you make it sound like far more of a foregone conclusion than it felt like when it was first happening.”

“That’s the benefit of an outside perspective,” Buggy said snippily.  “And also hindsight.”  Waving a hand in Shanks’ face, he said, “But enough about you!”  Jabbing the pointer finger of that same hand at their host, Buggy said, “What’s this about you learning to make oden for Dogstorm?”

The gorilla mink smiled, his eyes wide, and Buggy suddenly remembered hearing once that gorillas didn’t actually smile, but instead bared their teeth as a threat against potential enemies.  He pulled back his hand as casually as he could manage it.

“Do you really want to hear the story?  I’m told I can be a bit long-winded,” the mink said, fishing one of the Wano flasks out of its water bath and offering it up.

“Yeah, let’s hear it!” Buggy said, pouring a cup for Shanks, then handing over the flask so Shanks could do the same for him.  “I don’t know about Shanks but I haven’t heard anything from Zou in years, I’m dying to hear what those two have gotten up to.”

Closing his eyes, Buggy took a sip of the warmed Wano sake, not knowing Shanks was doing the same thing at the same time.  They set down their cups and sighed in unpracticed unison.  Suddenly aware of their double act, Buggy scowled at Shanks, who ignored him and made an encouraging gesture to their chef.  “Please, go ahead. I’d love to hear news of Dogstorm and Cat Viper.”

A sad expression washed over the gorilla’s face.  “I’m afraid I can only give you news of Duke Dogstorm.”  At the looks on his guests’ faces, the gorilla threw out a hand and said, “Not to say—please don’t misunderstand! Lord Cat Viper still lives! It’s just that I have not met with him since he and Duke Dogstorm first returned to Zou.  They... keep separate courts, and hours, and my service has always been to the day.”

A wrinkle appeared in Shanks’ brow.  “They don’t talk anymore?”

“It always turns into a fight.  Often one with devastating consequences for their surroundings.”

Buggy frowned.  That didn’t sound right.  Well, not the destruction—that sounded like those two—but fighting so badly they couldn’t even share waking hours... “What happened?”

The gorilla sighed.  “As I understand it?  Kozuki Oden died, and neither could forgive the other for failing to save him.”  A moment later, he gave Buggy a concerned look.  “Oh, are you hurt?”

Buggy blinked.  Staring down at his hands, he realized he’d snapped his chopsticks in half.  “I... no, I’m okay.”  The gorilla carefully plucked the broken shards of wood out of Buggy’s grasp, along with a splinter or two that had tried to wedge their way into his palms.  Thankfully the Chop-Chop fruit could handle any kind of stabbing, from needles up to legendary meito, so Buggy really was fine.

While the gorilla disposed of the pieces of wood, Buggy clenched his jaw, feeling Shanks’ eyes on him.  “I can hear you thinking.”

“…it makes sense,” he said quietly.  “What else could come between those two but the loss of someone who was as important to them as Oden?”

Buggy shot Shanks a narrow look out of the corner of his eye.  “Pretty sure I told you this morning that I was done talking about sad shit,” he warned, and Shanks raised his hand in a placating gesture.  The gorilla confirmed that Buggy wasn’t hurt, pointed out the extra chopsticks sitting in a cup to his left, and at their insistence told his story while they returned to their meal.

Dogstorm’s court sounded like a sight worth seeing.  Minks of countless animal forms, musketeers and attendants! To think Oden’s retainer had retainers of his own now!  And to think that he acted like a guy with such noble dignity, after the way he used to behave.

As the gorilla reached the end of his story—having made the closest thing to oden as could be produced with ingredients native to Zou, with Dogstorm pleased by the effort but quietly unsatisfied by the taste, the gorilla had left the court making a vow to learn the secrets of the oden-preparing arts, promising not to return until he was confident he would be able to put a true smile on the duke’s face—Buggy nudged Shanks in the side.  He glanced at Buggy, a half-eaten skewer of fishcakes sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

“Can you believe,” Buggy said with a shit-eating grin, “that the noble, wounded Dogstorm this guy is talking about is the same one who tarred and feathered Mr. Rayleigh?”

Shanks nearly choked before starting to laugh.  “How did I forget about that?!”

“I’m sorry, Duke Dogstorm did what?” the gorilla said incredulously, staring between the two of them.

“Wait, wait,” Shanks said, before Buggy could start to tell the story.  “If we’re sharing stories of mutual friends, you have to share a drink with us too.”  He grabbed a clean cup from a stack to one side and handed it over to the mink.  Shanks gave Buggy a pleading look, and with a magnanimous smirk Buggy chop-chopped a hand to swipe another sake flask from the water bath and pour for both of them.  “So—”

“Don’t you tell it!” Buggy snapped.  With a grin and a wave of his hand, Shanks metaphorically turned over the reins to Buggy, and took the opportunity to return to his sake and his meal.  “So,” Buggy said to the mink, “the first thing you need to understand about Dogstorm and Cat Viper is that they acted like respectful little attendants when Oden was around, but when it was just the four of us?”  Glancing at Shanks, who was grinning around the skewer in his mouth, Buggy cackled.  “They were just as bad as we were.”

Buggy went on to describe the prank in loving detail, alternating bites of fishcake with the reactions of the crew (mostly hysteria, especially from Roger) and the multiple attempts to blame the prank on someone else (Dogstorm nearly succeeded in pinning it all on Buggy, but forgot himself and corrected Rayleigh on where the tar had come from).  Shanks followed this up with a reminder of another time the four of them had been absolute nightmares to the crew of the Oro Jackson, and the story Buggy told about that day brought their host to literal tears of laughter.

They went around like this for over an hour, topping off their bowls and drinks all the while, recalling old times with the golden burnish of nostalgia softening the edges, easing the hurts and offenses of youth.  Gradually, the last of the fear Buggy had been clinging to all day faded.  It was hard to think that your childhood dread mattered much when looked at from so far off, in so fond a way. It was easy to smile at someone who so readily smiled back.

Eventually the broth pooling at the bottom of their bowls grew cold, and the flasks of sake they’d bought ran dry.  Not a soul had tried to enter the yatai while they were present, and Buggy felt a fleeting burst of pity for the gorilla’s business… until he saw how well Shanks tipped. With a light heart, Buggy waved a slightly drunken farewell to the mink—he’d paced himself pretty well, but a half-dozen bottles of sake split between two men were still going to have an effect—and ducked back out into the wider world.

The air outside was not exactly cold, but it lacked the cozy warmth of the oden-ya’s atmosphere.  It set something within Buggy out of alignment—or maybe back into place?  He stood just outside the noren with a hand pressed to his chest, trying to place the feeling, when Shanks made his own exit and nearly ran into him.

The proximity of Shanks at his back, with the last traces of that soup-warmed air drifting in his wake, sent a burst of longing down Buggy’s spine so intense his knees went weak.

Shanks’ hand went to his shoulder.  “Careful,” Shanks said, hoisting Buggy fully upright, the flat of his arm firm along the breadth of his back.  “You alright, Buggy?”

Fuck.  Even though it was the wrong arm, something about Shanks putting an arm over Buggy’s shoulder made his stomach flip and his heart kick into high gear.  Stupid, loyal organs didn’t have the sense Buggy’s brain had been given, to recognize that feeling feelings for Shanks was a very bad idea.

“Fine,” Buggy croaked out, taking a few careful steps away from Shanks to confirm he was steady enough to make that lie truth.  He shook himself off.

“Your tolerance not what it used to be?” Shanks teased.

“My tolerance is normal,” Buggy insisted, not looking back at Shanks.  “Yours, on the other hand...”

“Yeah, unlike you I’m actually fine,” Shanks said, picking up his pace to match Buggy’s stride.  Glancing around, his back straightened involuntarily with recognition.  Nudging Buggy’s shoulder with his own, he said, “Here, there’s a park nearby where we won’t be bothered.  We can sit down, let you sober up a little before heading back to the ship.”

Buggy drifted in Shanks’ wake on some old instinct.  It was only mid-afternoon.  “There wasn’t anything else you wanted to do?”

Shanks glanced at Buggy over his shoulder.  “What?”

“I dunno, some... sight you thought I should see, or a shop you like or something?”

Shanks blinked.  “Buggy, I’ve never been to this island before. I asked the locals for recommendations yesterday so I could have a good time with you.���

Buggy’s face went hot.  “You—stop saying shit like that!  Don’t you know how that sounds?”

“How it sounds?” Shanks echoed. He led Buggy through a tall, metal gate, into a walled-off plot of land with very little to it, just rock-paved paths, plaques underneath oddly colored trees, and the occasional bench.  Closing the gate behind them, he spun on Buggy.  “How does it sound?”

Buggy scowled and stormed past him.  Like Shanks didn’t know.

“If it sounds like I’ve missed you—well, sorry, Buggy, but I have.  I thought I’d been pretty obvious about that.”  When Buggy turned an incredulous look on Shanks, the corner of his mouth turned up, amused.  “Obvious to everyone but you, I guess.”

“You—you didn’t miss me,” Buggy said, insistent.  “You missed—” he gestured vaguely between the two of them. “—someone knowing you, without you having to say anything.  You missed having a history with someone.”

Shanks shook his head.  “I would love to see many people from back then again, but I’ve never missed any of them like I did you.”

“Oh, come on!” Buggy spat, “what was there to miss?  A greedy little brat who couldn’t decide if he hated you more than he was jealous of you?  A coward who ran and hid from every fight?”  The memory of Shanks leaning in close, a hand on his face, shot through Buggy.  Resisting another stab of longing, he blurted out, “Some stranger’s pretty face?”

“I missed my best—” Shanks’ face screwed up in confusion.  “A pretty face?”

Buggy hadn’t meant to say that.  He grimaced.  “You know.”  Swiping a hand across his face, he chop-chopped his nose off for a moment, hiding the gap behind his free hand.  “This one, that you liked so much that time.”

Understanding lit up Shanks’ face.  “Oh, the gorgeous stranger with stunning eyes.”  A sheepish expression coming over him, Shanks looked away, askance.  “Can I tell you something embarrassing?”

Buggy blinked.  Not the response he’d expected.  “Uh, sure?”

“I only thought those eyes were so stunning because they reminded me of yours.”

Buggy’s jaw dropped.  “The hell they did!”

“They did!”  Shoving his hand over his eyes, Shanks smiled self-consciously.  “Oh, I felt so ridiculous later.  That poor guy, I thought, was deserving of more than my secondhand affections.”  Dropping his hand to look at Buggy, he said, “Though that’s nothing compared to how ridiculous I felt the other day.”

Buggy swallowed, mouth dry.

“I’m sorry, Buggy,” Shanks said after a long, silent moment.  “If I’d known it was you, I wouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

Buggy blinked.

Well.  Of course he wouldn’t have.  That went without saying.

He stepped back.  “I know that.”

“You do?”  Shanks frowned.  “I… good.”  Shoulders hunched, he turned to peer down at a plaque mounted beneath a pink-leafed bush.  “That’s good.  I don’t want there to be any more misunderstandings between us.”

“What’s there to misunderstand?”  Buggy spotted a bench and sat down.  He immediately felt clearer-headed.  Maybe Shanks was right about his tolerance.  “I get it.  You kiss strangers, not old friends.”

Shanks paused mid-step.  “Are you…” He spun to frown at Buggy.  “Are you deliberately misunderstanding me?”

“Hm?”  Buggy had just gotten comfortable, hiking one knee over the bench’s arm.  What was Shanks talking about now?

“Buggy.”

Buggy craned his head back to look up at Shanks.  He looked tall from this angle, and taller still when he leaned over Buggy, resting his hand on the back of the bench.  Shanks’ expression was unreadable, but intense.  Buggy’s mouth felt dry again.  Oh, this was bad.

“I was not apologizing for kissing you.  I was apologizing for kissing you wrong.”

“Kissing me wrong?” Buggy echoed bewilderedly.

“If I’d known that stranger was you, I still would have kissed you, if you’d let me,” Shanks said bluntly.  “I’d kiss you now, if you’d let me.  But it wouldn’t be like that kiss, it would be different.”

Buggy blinked, dumbfounded.

Shanks… wanted to kiss him.

Not the stranger he’d taken him for back then, but Buggy himself.

Had wanted to kiss Buggy then.

Still wanted to kiss Buggy now.

Would kiss him in a different way from a stranger.

“Different how?” Buggy croaked out.

For a long, agonizing moment, Shanks stared blankly at Buggy.  A furious heat rushed into Buggy’s face—there was no way to take a sentence like that back.  He couldn’t pretend it was simple curiosity.  He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t eager to be kissed.

Slowly, Shanks grinned, infuriatingly smug.  “Would you like me to show you?”

[tojisth3rdwife]

ACT 1.3

<previous chapter> <next chapter>

“I met Cho back in like..2015ish? It had to be around then because my kid hadnt even been born yet and I was in a very weird place in my life..Was going through some shit. But whats new?” he chuckles dryly, smirking knowingly at the camera.

The shot focused on Sukuna as he lounged comfortably on the leather couch, the soft glow of warm studio lights casting a relaxed ambiance around him. He leaned back, heavily tattooed arms crossed over his broad chest, exuding a laid-back confidence in his maroon button down and tailored slacks. Sukuna wasn’t a flashy guy, despite his elaborate body art and fuchsia tinted hair, so he kept his jewelry to a minimalistic gold chain and that still was worth more than what most people drove. His gaze drifted momentarily as he recalled the past, a slight smile creeping onto his face.

“Honestly,” he began, his voice low and steady, “the first time I met him was one of those random moments that just stick with you.” He shifted slightly, getting more comfortable, the couch creaking beneath him. “I was jogging in this park just a block or two from my place. It was a nice day, the kind where you just wanna be outside, you know? Normally, I’d have my headphones in with music to keep the rhythm. But that day, I don't know, I must have forgotten em or something..”

Sukuna's expression brightened with the memory. “So here I am, running through the park, and I start hearing music. Like, real music. Not just some kid with a cheap speaker or whatever…this was different. So I followed the sound until I saw him.”

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I mean, you look at him, and he’s skinny as a rail, got shaggy hair, thrifted clothes, and this fedora that looked like it had seen better days. No style whatsoever, right? Had to be like 17..18.” Sukuna’s arms unfolded as he gestured animatedly, a hint of admiration creeping into his tone. “But the moment he opened his mouth… man, it was like someone flipped a switch.”

Sukuna’s eyes sparkled with nostalgia. “His voice was so mature, so rich—completely unexpected. You’d think he’d sound like a kid, but no. It had this texture, this depth that just pulled you in. I was blown away. And he wasn’t just singing; he was playing everything, too! I mean, he’d take requests like it was the easiest thing in the world. Any genre. Any style. His musical intelligence was just so impressive to me.”

Sukuna leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, clearly caught up in the memory. “I stood there for a while, just watching him. It was like I’d stumbled onto something special—the kind of raw talent that doesn’t come around often. Turns out, Choso wasn’t just some kid; he was a force of nature. And you know, I was in the process of getting my own thing together. I sat in for some bands and played the drums. That had always been my thing. Had this little homemade studio in the basement of my house where I'd just play around. Wanting to take it seriously for myself but not having tge inspiration to start. The only real outlet I had outside of work and family life was music. I dunno..” he pauses, scratchung his chin.

“Then I see this kid, just singing his heart out in the park. Day after day. And then Sort of became one of his regular audience members that would drop off a couple dollars in his guitar case. Then there came a day where I just introduced myself..”

He settled back into the couch, a satisfied grin on his face, the memory of that day igniting a spark of excitement within him. "And the rest, as they say, is history."

Choso dragged his feet over the cracked pavement outside Sukuna's family home, the familiar sight of the two-story brick house igniting a whirlwind of emotions within him. Years had passed since he left Tennessee behind in pursuit of dreams in New York City, and now he found himself back in this cozy, chaotic haven. His studio apartment, barely large enough to accommodate his guitar, was just a short walk away and served more as a place to keep his stuff and sleep whenever he wasn't at Sukuna’s or Suguru’s. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm orange hue over the neighborhood, a stark contrast to the shadows of doubt that loomed over his aspirations.

He climbed the few steps to the side entrance, the familiar creaks of the wooden door welcoming him back as he pushed it open. The inviting aroma of spices and simmering vegetables wafted through the air, drawing him into the heart of the home. In the kitchen, he found Camila, Sukuna’s vibrant wife, a whirlwind of energy as she balanced cooking with tending to their small child. She was a beautiful blend of Dominican and Jamaican heritage, her tawny skin glowing with warmth as she moved gracefully around the kitchen.

“¡Hola, Choso!” she greeted him, her voice bright yet laced with the gentle authority of a mother. She turned, a wooden spoon in her hand, her brow furrowed in playful annoyance as she fussed at their toddler, who was trying to sneak a cookie from the counter. “No, mijo! You need to eat your vegetables first!”

Choso couldn’t help but smile at the scene, the love and chaos of family life wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. A feeling he missed tremendously.

“Hey, Camila. Smells good in here,” he replied, glancing at the colorful array of dishes simmering on the stove.

“You hungry?” she asked, wiping her hands on a dishtowel, her eyes sparkling with warmth. Camila was a stunning woman, exuding beauty in an effortlessly natural way. As far as Choso could tell, she never wore makeup; her hair, always in its natural state, showcased thick, vibrant coils that she often styled into elegant twists or a beautiful poof atop her head. Choso found himself intrigued by the contrast between her laid-back, earthy demeanor and the presence of a man like Sukuna.

How the hell had someone so grounded ended up with someone so intense?

“Oh, no, I’m good,” he declined politely, feeling a twinge of guilt wash over him. Not that whatever she was making didnt smell tempting. Choso just had too much on his mind to think about food. “Where’s ya boy?”

“Basement,” she said, eyeing him incredulously before nodding toward the door that led to the lower level. “He’s been working on something. You know how he gets…”

Choso chuckled softly, knowing all too well and grateful for the familiarity of it all. “Thanks, Camila.” He turned , ruffling the babbling toddlers mane of unruly curls before he made his way to the basement, excitement bubbling within him as he descended the stairs.

As he reached the bottom, the dim light of the makeshift studio greeted him. The space was a blend of creativity and clutter, filled with instruments, scattered papers, and an array of sound equipment. In the corner, Sukuna was deeply engrossed in his work, his fingers dancing over the pads of a drum machine, crafting a beat that pulsed with energy. He glanced up briefly, brow furrowed in concentration, before quickly jotting down ideas in a worn notebook filled with sketches, lyrics, and musical notations.

Choso stood for a moment, absorbing the scene: the familiar sound of an instrumental mixing with the faint scent of incense and marijuana lingering in the air. This was where he felt at home, where chaos transformed into creativity. With a smile, he stepped further into the room, ready to reconnect with his friend and dive back into the world of music that had once felt so distant.

Finally noticing him, Sukuna’s intense focus shifted positively at the sight of Choso standing in his basement.

“Ooh, Cho, c’mere.”

Sukuna scooted over in his wheeled chair and began tapping on the keyboard, commanding the recording program to replay the intricate beat he’d been working on. It was a hard-hitting combination of drums and synths, with distorted bass samples woven throughout.

Choso stood by him, tucking his hands in his pants pockets and nodding in sync to the rhythm until Sukuna lowered the volume.

“Damn..thats crazy..” he muttered, obviously impressed by what he was hearing. It never ceased to amaze him how a producers mind worked. Choso had a great ear and could express what he heard in his mind, but melodies and lyrics had always been his strong suit.

“It’s for one of the tracks for the next EP. Suguru sent me the beat, and I haven't been able to get it outta my head.”

Choso listened as Sukuna rambled about his vision for the song, tossing out lyrics he hoped Choso would expand on to kickstart the writing process. But when he noticed Choso’s silence, Sukuna turned to find him now seated in the other chair, swaying gently with his gaze fixed on the chipped corner of Sukuna's worn desk.

“Cho…”

“Hmm?” Choso lifted his head, still distracted.

“What’s up?” Sukuna deadpanned.

Choso frowned, feigning confusion at the question. “What do you mean?”

Sukuna frowned back, taking a moment to really look at his friend, noting his wrinkled shirt, disheveled hair and forlorn eyes.

“Something happen at work? You look like you got some shit on your mind. ” he mutters, leaning up to click around on the computer's mouse, effectively minimizing Pro Tools and displaying a collage of Sukuna and Camilla’s wedding photos and their baby Kai when he was first born.

“Oh… yeah,” Choso scoffed inwardly, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him.

He went on to tell Sukuna about his day, how he’d been fired from the job he had managed to hold for over a year due to tardiness and lack of focus, and how his manager's parting words echoed painfully in his mind. All the while, Sukuna listened, leaning back in his chair and gazing at Choso intently.

“"The bright side of getting let go is that at least I don’t have to drag myself out of bed at the crack of dawn after a show," Choso said, a bitter smile tugging at his lips.

"But now I need to find another job to afford rent for this piece-of-shit shoebox I’m stuck in, where I can’t even get my landlord to fix anything. What we make from local gigs is nice, but it just isn’t enough to live on."

Sukuna leaned forward, tossing in a suggestion. “So, are you going to call that lady your boss said could help you find another job?”

Choso shrugged, his expression distant. “I could… but the thought of going through that whole employment process again just depresses me more than anything.”

“Why?” Sukuna raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious.

Choso wilted a bit, his body swaying gently in the chair as he propped his chin on his fist.

“You know why.”

There was a heaviness in his tone that spoke volumes, revealing the weight of past rejections and the fear of facing yet another uphill battle.

Sukuna nodded, understanding all too well why the idea of being out in the world working a menial job felt like torture to Choso when all he truly wanted was to immerse himself in music and perform on stage.

He understood the pressure of feeling lost, of grappling with the fear of failure. He had been there himself, and he couldn't shake the feeling that offering Choso a place to stay was more than just a favor; it was a lifeline.

The thought of leaving him to fend for himself in a city that could be so unforgiving stirred a deep empathy within him. He resolved to ensure that Choso would have a safe space, a chance to regroup and find his footing. After all, everyone deserves a helping hand when life got tough.

Back in the rehearsal studio, the atmosphere buzzed with a mix of creativity and tension as the camera focused on Sukuna’s expression, capturing the intensity in his eyes as he prepared to recall the events that led him to invite Choso to move in.

You listened intently from your high director’s chair as Sukuna recounted the day in his basement, vividly recalling the pivotal conversation he had with Choso. It was clear that Choso felt he was at a crossroads in his life.

“The thing with Choso is, I could sense that music was his everything. It was like he was made for it,” Sukuna said, his expression shifting to one of deep understanding. “I know what it’s like to want something so badly while facing countless obstacles. That’s when the idea hit me.” he smirks.

“I suggested that Choso break his lease and move into our basement. Of course, I didn’t bother to discuss it with my wife first... real smart move on my part,” Sukuna chuckled, the sound rich with self-deprecation as he pulled himself back into the backdrop of his memories.

As he spoke, the sincerity in his eyes revealed the weight of his decision and the empathy he felt for his friend, making it clear that this was more than just a practical solution.

The bustling streets were alive that evening with the symphony of honking horns and distant chatter, the sun hanging low in the sky and casting a warm amber glow over the brownstone townhome. Choso sat in the passenger seat of Sukuna's SUV, remnants of his old life packed tightly in boxes and bags. A mix of excitement and trepidation swirled in his stomach; the familiarity of his old apartment had begun to fade, and now he was stepping into a new chapter—one that was both thrilling and daunting.

Sukuna pulled up in front of the brownstone, the engine rumbling gently before he turned it off. He glanced at Choso, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “What’s with the face?” he asked, eyeing Choso’s apprehensive expression as he peered past Sukuna at the house.

Choso chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I just… I hope I’m not imposing.”

Before Sukuna could respond, the front door swung open, revealing Camila. She stood on the stoop, a mix of warmth and confusion knitting her brows together. Little Kai, with his tousled hair and wide, curious eyes, clung to her leg, peeking out at the two men with a mix of excitement and curiosity as his father exited the vehicle.

“Papa!” he squealed, stumbling down the steps, Camila instinctively following close behind.

“Hey! I thought you said you were helping Choso get packed to move…” Camila exclaimed, her arms crossing defensively over her chest. She caught sight of the boxes piled high in the back of the SUV, and her expression shifted, a shadow of frustration crossing her features. “What’s all this?”

Sukuna stepped around the car, a casual confidence radiating from him as he hoisted Kai up into his arms, planting a kiss on his forehead. “Hey, baby! I did! Figured it would be easier for him to stay here while he gets his life sorted. You know how tough it is to find a decent place around here. Plus, I could use an extra set of hands in the studio.”

Camila’s eyes narrowed, disbelief and annoyance flickering in her gaze. “And you were going to tell me this when?”

Choso shuffled out of the car, feeling like an intruder in a conversation that had nothing to do with him. “Uh… if it’s an issue, Camila, I don’t mind figuring something else out. I don’t mean to—”

“Callete…” Camila interrupted, her tone softening. “Mijo, look who’s here!” She gestured to Choso, who stood awkwardly behind Sukuna. Kai craned his neck to see, and as Sukuna passed him over, Choso forced a smile, trying to ease the tension in the air even as Camila’s eyes still held a trace of irritation toward her husband.

Kai’s face broke into a wide grin, arms outstretched toward the familiar adult. “Tío ChoCho!!” He wrapped his little arms around Choso’s neck the moment Sukuna handed him over, and Choso couldn’t help but smile, the warmth of the child’s affection easing some of his nerves.

“Hey, little man,” Choso replied, ruffling Kai’s hair playfully while securing him against his side. “What’s up?”

“I got a new Hot Wheels monster truck with dinosaur teeth on it!” Kai babbled, tugging at Choso’s collar and tugging at his heartstrings. “I gotta show you! Come on!”

Sukuna watched the exchange with a hint of pride, but Camila’s gaze flicked back to her husband, a silent challenge in her eyes. “Yeah, that’s a good idea, papi. Hey Cho, you mind taking him inside? Just for a second…”

Choso didn’t need to be overly acquainted with Camila to understand the underlying tension in her tone. He glanced at Sukuna, who nodded at him with an assured expression, unfazed by the brewing storm.

“Yeah, I’ll be in there.” Sukuna gestured toward the house, giving Choso a gentle nudge for him to gi ahead. Camila waited until they were alone in the front yard before starting.

“Ryo…” she exhaled, and Sukuna closed the distance between them, hands finding her waist.

“Mila… I know what you’re gonna say,” he began, but Camila stepped back, rejecting his attempt at placating her with a touch.

“Yeah? I bet you do, Mr. Knows-Every-Fucking-Thing-and-Does-What-He-Wants! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that having him move in seemed like a no-brainer. He’s over here so much anyway. We can get so much more done musically with him here. Plus, he can help out with Kai when we work. The kid just lost his job and has no one else, Mila. You really want him out on the streets when he can’t even pay his rent?”

“Uh-uhn, don’t make it seem like I’m the big bad guy who doesn’t want to help Choso,” Camila countered, her voice dropping slightly as she stepped closer. “It’s about our family. You can’t just make decisions like this without talking to me. I have no issue with helping him. He’s a sweet boy and good with Kai, and I know he has no one else. But we already agreed to let your nephew come live with us this summer.”

Sukuna sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t forgotten that he agreed to let his brother’s delinquent son stay with them over the summer to keep him out of trouble. He wasn’t sure if Jin thought Sukuna would have a positive influence on him or if he and his wife were just that fed up, but he had no real reason to refuse since they had the space for him in the basement.

“Where are we going to fit all these people? Hm? You gonna make Kai give up his room or me give up my office space so one of them can stay in there?” Camila pressed, driving her point home.

“Alright, I get it. I should have talked to you first,” he conceded.

“Damn straight. You should have,” she nodded.

“This is just like when you decided to quit your job and go all in with this band. The late shows and sleepless nights. Granted, you guys are doing well, and we’re making ends meet, just barely. But you didn’t think to talk to me then, and now it feels like you’re leaving me out of everything now. Its like Im just here for nothing..”

Sukuna grasped Camila by the wrist the second he hears the tremble in her voice, gently tugging her toward him, and she let him, albeit reluctantly. He knew it was hard to resist being pressed against her husband’s muscular chest, her much smaller body caged in the embrace of his huge arms.

“Hey… I’m sorry, okay? I know this seems like that, but I swear it’s not. Working for your dad was something I had to step away from. I didn’t feel like a man, and stepping out on my own was about pride. But this? My music, helping Choso, and my nephew—this is about family and our home. A home that wouldn’t exist without you. I promise to never leave you out of any more decisions that affect us. Okay? We can make room for both Choso and Yuji to stay in the basement. Move enough around and its spacious enough for it to work.”

Camila cast a lingering glance at her husband, her expression softening as she pondered how she had come to fall for such an ambitious man. To him, everything always seemed to work out, no matter the cost. Some might label that as foolish optimism, but Sukuna had a unique ability to make things happen. Trusting him had never led her astray, so why should she doubt him now? As she watched him, a sense of reassurance washed over her, reminding her of the countless times he had turned challenges into opportunities.

“Fine… Come on. You and Cho should hurry and get all this stuff inside before it gets dark,” she said quietly, though a hint of understanding laced her tone. She turned away from Sukuna, giving him an expectant glance that urged him to follow.

“Hurry up. And don’t think this conversation is over just because you apologized. You’ll have to make it up to me later.”

He nodded, a small, knowing smile spreading across his face as he trailed behind her, admiring the sway of her hips as she ascended the steps and slipped through the door. The familiar warmth of her presence filled him with a sense of hope, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for the bond they shared, even amidst the challenges.

🥀Like~Comment~Reblog🥀

a/n: gorgeous character art all credited to @arekushisu_11 on twt&pinterest

< next chapter >

< Meet the Band >

[kaihuntrr]

FLOWER HUSBANDS FIC: Coral Reefs and Cigarettes (working title) Prologue designs!

ALRIGHT! Hello everyone, in this post I’ll be sharing (and talking!) about the development of my multi-chapter fanfiction flower husbands au, based on @vyeoh ‘s punk x prep au! I’ll be starting off with the characters we meet in the prologue; the divorce quartet!

We open the prologue at the tail-end of last life, aka one of their school years. I wanted to focus on this, as while the fanfic is on the re-budding relationship between Scott and Jimmy, the side plot focuses on friendships, and of course, the friendship in mind are on the Divorce Quartet.

Without further ado, let’s take a look at these designs!

(I used a more simpler style so I can get these concepts across!)

The designs of the Quartet as a whole are supposed to mimic their soulbounds/ besties and with each other! I wanted each of them to have a distinct style but also keep them connected. It’s a tough challenge (considering I always do fantastical designs) but I think I did pretty well!

Moving unto them individually, I can talk about their character and designs! Starting with

Scott S. Major.

The richest and smartest kid in school

Has a reputation (family) in the area

Studies marine biology + gardening

He’s usually sweet, but approaching him is a nightmare. Imagine a Regina George-type character but a lot more sassy and open with his remarks

He loves to spoil his friends

DESIGN

Cold colors with a red and gold contrast

Keepsakes of his “alliances” (important relationships) as accessories (Jimmy’s poppy, Pearl’s moon necklace/belt chain), has yet to receive something he could use from Cleo and Martyn

Feminine outfits + heels are a go-to for him (is still a bit short)

The preppiest looking one out of the four

His body type is petite! (He’s still the dominant one in the relationship tho)

Pearl Moon.

The “newest” of the four (a nod to her being introduced in Last Life)

Has been friends with Scott before high school online

Art student

Loves studying the stars/ constellations

Lanky and tall

DESIGN

Muted red tones with a dark blue and green contrast

Heterochromia eyes

Lesbian + graphic design is my passion pins (from Cleo) on her polo shirt (mimicking Scott’s blazer(?) )+ moon hairpin (from Martyn)

Hoodie has a wolf skull on it ;)

moon/star-inspired makeup (done by Scott!)

Cleo Zombie

The one who hypes up the chaos/ also the most grounded

Could kill you, doesn’t hurt a fly

Not entirely sure what they’re studying

Sportsy! Probably basketball

Interested in zombie-type fiction

DESIGN

Green (mimics Martyn) with blue and orange contrast

Nonbinary choker and pendant + dog tags from a relative

The most “jock” out of all of them, the black shirt has a ribcage design

Blue orchid from Scott, jacket from Martyn, piercings from Pearl (well, scheduling them to get it)

Large/ bulky

Martyn I. Woods

The friendliest and most sociable

Theatre kid (obviously), loves the dramatic

Jokester/ class clown

Loyal to a fault

Has information on every student due to his social skills

DESIGN

Green with white and black contrast

Dogwarts (his theater group, now disbanded) bandana ;)

Studded white belt and chains from Scott, white boots from Pearl, and hasn’t received anything from Cleo yet

Mimics Cleo with the vest

Average, some muscle

STOKED to introduce you all to the beginning of this story, who else is excited? >:D!

(ps, if y’all have ideas for the title of this work I’d love to hear some!! I need it lol)

[joeyquinndrabz]

Inked- Joseph Quinn x Reader

TW: none im trying to give you guys a break from the angst I have in my drafts 😭

Being a tattoo artist was a dream you’d had since you were a kid. Your friends would laugh and tell you to ‘get real’ but you knew it’s what you wanted to do and so you did. Your grandfather was a tattoo artist in London and became highly respected by the whole city, everyone wanted a tattoo from your grandfather and so did you. When you were 18, he gave you your first tattoo after years of pestering. His talent was impeccable and his art was your inspiration. You soon began an apprenticeship at his shop and , it must be in the genes, because you’re very good at it too. Of course you were aware of the privilege you had due to your grandads high status, but it didn’t mean you didn’t have to work hard. It took years of practice to get to the level you’re at now, but being 28 and working alongside your 68 year old grandad was the gift that kept on giving. His guidance was still so important to you and your relationship was unbreakable. He wasn’t your stereotypical elder male tattoo artist, his style was still the same as it had been in the 70s. Checkered button ups, flares, docs and a very impressive moustache. He was ridiculously cool, your grandma was the same. A stylish woman with a blue rinse on her grey hair and she was always sporting a pair of new glasses. She worked on the front desk, greeting each client with a smile and being the first point of contact to ease that anxiety many of them had. It was a family run business and a great one at that.

It’d been a busy day, it was a Saturday and you’d tattooed a lot of people and a lot of different things. You were getting ready to pack up when your Grandfather could be heard chuckling out in the corridor. There were two different male voices that followed and curiosity killed the cat, you wanted to find out more.

“Ahh this is my wonderful granddaughter I’ve been talking about. She’ll enjoy this one lads.” He chuckled at the two mystery men as he pulled you in for a side hug. “Enjoy what?” You questioned, smiling at the two strangers. “It’s slightly embarrassing but we got very drunk and stick and picked out initials onto each others feet but they’re not looking the best.” One of them told you, you noticed the curtains he was sporting and the slight permanent smirk that was stuck on his face. “Yeah not our brightest idea.” The other man laughed, you noticed something different with this one. He was looking directly at you, admiring your tattoos with each passing of his eyes. It was cute. He was cute.

“Let’s get you lads sorted, I’ll do yours Wesley and Y/N can do Joe’s. I won’t make you do them both kiddo you’ve been here since 6.” Your grandad aimed the last bit at you, you smiled and nodded before taking Joe into your part of the studio.

“I’m really sorry about this, I didn’t know you’d been here that long. I’m more than happy to get it fixed another day.” The man who you now knew as Joe was rambling and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly it’s fine, if you were coming in for a back piece then I would’ve said otherwise but I’m sure we can fix this in no time.” You smiled at him as you handed him the consent forms. “Do people genuinely come in last minute for things like that?” He asked whilst signing all the needed paperwork. “You’d be surprised, we don’t actually do walk ins but my grandads had a rule that if he likes your ‘vibe’ then he’ll allow it in some cases.” This caught Joes attention, looking up at you from the clipboard to give you a massive smile that you could only assume was because he’d realised he met your grandads criteria. “He’s a cool man.” Joe continued to smile as he handed you the papers back. “He’s my favourite discussion point, the man’s a walking, talking 70s masterpiece.” You laughed and soon heard him joining in with you. “I’d kill to have him as my grandad, you’re very lucky.” Joe was admiring the art on the walls, walking closer to his favourites then standing back with a tilted head to take it all in. “I’m forever grateful for him, he’s the reason I do what I do.” You smiled to yourself, getting ready to fix the drunken scribble on his foot. “Looks like you’re pretty bloody good at it too, love.” He turned to face you, admiration on his face. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.” You shyly smiled back before asking him all the boring questions required.

Joe was now sat on the tattoo bed, showing you the tattoo in all its glory. “I mean.” You tried to find the words but struggled with a chuckle.

“Yeah I know I think Wes was shaking a little bit.” Joe grimaced before laughing with you. “It’s an easy fix don’t worry, are you okay for me to start?” You asked, in a weird way hoping he’d say no so you had more time to talk to him and hear more about his life. But he was ready, he told you he was more than ready and watched you as you got to work.

“You ok?” Looking up from the W and to Joe, you’d expected him to flinch or say something about the pain but he didn’t. Instead his face was plastered with a picture perfect smile. “Peachy keen darlin’.”

You were aware of the blush spreading on your face so got back to fixing the W and soon you had finished, wiping it down and wrapping it up.

“There we are, all finished.” You beamed and watched as Joe admired it in the mirror. “It’s perfect, thank you so much.” He mirrored your expression, happy there was now some symmetry to his drunken decision. “You’re more than welcome, grandad will sort out the payment and everything when Wesley’s finished.” You explained as you began cleaning up your station.

Soon the pair were at the front desk, paying for their tattoos and laughing with your grandad. You were still cleaning up so hadn’t realised they’d left due to your fixation on making the studio ready for you tomorrow morning.

“Knock,knock.” Your grandad announced his presence and walked in with a massive grin on his face. “What’s got you smiling so wide?” You laughed at his animated demeanour as he slowly approached you with his hands behind his back. He sat on the bench and smirked, before pulling his hands from his back to reveal a piece of paper and five £20 notes. “You got a big tip and a new admirer.” He laughed before handing you the money and the note. “But it was a tiny tattoo?” You were in shock, complete and utter shock.

“Read the note.” Your grandad pressed, leaning forward in anticipation. “Grandad!” You exclaimed,laughing at his eagerness. “Oh Cmon kiddo I’m dying over here.” He laughed back.

You opened the note and scanned the page with your eyes, a smile growing after each letter.

I’m sorry if this is totally inappropriate and i completely understand if you rip this up but just wanted to say I really enjoyed getting tattooed by you today and I’d love to get to know you more. Here’s my number, again I’m sorry if this isn’t appropriate I just think you’re pretty incredible and I’d love to get to know you more.

The tip is because you’re a brilliant artist and I hope you treat yourself with it and get something to help ease the stress of today.

All the best,

Joe

XXX

You grabbed your phone and copied the number into your phone immediately, passing your grandad the note before going outside to ring Joe.

“Hello?” He answered, anxiety evident in his voice.

“I’m leaving here in 10 minutes, fancy sharing a couple glasses of wine with that tip?” You had no idea where this confidence had emerged from but nether the less you were extremely thankful for it.

“Darlin’ that’d be a dream.”

[seaplusglass]

Alright, lets talk about Leon's design

As mentioned in a previous post, I find the progress of my OC Leon’s design very interesting, as they have been a character I’ve been consistently using for the past 7 years. Because of that, I thought it might be interesting to share these insights with everyone else. So that's what this post is about!

It should be noted that although Leon is a character I’ve had since 2014, I’m going to be focusing on 2017 and onwards, as their concept before this could practically be considered a separate entity. 

Initial concept

Leon was originally made for a 1920s horror roleplay group, and his concept was to create an antagonistic character who would eventually be killed off. When I made the previous post discussing Leon’s design, I said the following:

I don't entirely know what my inspiration for them was at the time (I think I just wanted them to look sophisticated, British, and ocean-themed??)

Although it is true I don’t fully know what my inspiration was, I think those words also give the impression that I didn’t know what I was going for at all, and that isn’t the case either. Rather, a better description of what I was trying to achieve with the design is simple, and the amount of initial thinking I did doesn’t compare to the work I put into his character later on. 

His design could easily be boiled down to 3 words; Gentleman serial killer. He was supposed to look composed and charming but with something darker brewing under the surface. I gave him a tailored 3-piece suit to make him seem put-together, and gloves to make him seem clinical, as if to create a barrier between him and other people. I made him tall for the intimidation factor, and although his body type was described as lanky, I struggled to show that within the limitations of my work at the time.

Leon wasn't meant to last long in this setting at all - I had planned for him to be a pretty one-note villain who was meant to be killed off pretty quickly. But plans changed, and Leon ended up pivoting to becoming my main PC for a time. 

2018-2021

Adapting Leon to being my primary PC meant I also had to change things, as there were several things about Leon’s design that didn’t work with my art style at the time - Primarily, his hair.

(some examples of Leon’s hair from 2018)

It was meant to be messy, wavy and slicked back, which did achieve the vibe I was hoping for, but I didn’t know how to draw it properly.

(2018 vs 2024)

This still bothered me at the time though, so I started experimenting with different hairstyles. Eventually, I settled on a voluminous, wavy haircut with a tousled fringe and tapered sides.

This was also to give Leon a more youthful appearance, as Leon despite their greys was supposed to be in their late 20s. (Their age is more ambiguous now due to character lore, but they retain the grays.) 

2021-2023

Leon’s design stayed mostly consistent after this point, even as I used them for various other projects, but I did start to make little tweaks to their design, as I got a better handle on the fundamentals. I started defining Leon’s hair better and drawing it more consistently, and by 2021 I have what I’d consider the basis for Leon’s current design.

By this point, Leon had pivoted entirely from the concept of ‘gentleman serial killer’, as it didn’t fit with most places I wanted to use them, especially if I wanted to play them as a good guy - And so their backstory was entirely reworked from the ground up to be a little more fitting the direction I was taking them in.

But changing their foundation also meant changing their design. 

Because of this, I tried to give them a more approachable appearance and demeanor, and I opted to dress them in lighter colors to also reflect this change. It’s also around this time I depicting them a camera - Leon was always written to be naturally curious, but I wanted to add more facets to the character that made them seem interested in the world around them. This is also reflected in other works from the time where they're depicted, which often emphasize travel.

Then, in 2022, I started experiencing increasing dissatisfaction with their design. I think this could be attributed to a variety of factors, but most of all themes of queerness surfacing for the character. 

Since mid-2019, I had been playing around with the idea that Leon wasn’t cisgender. I wasn’t entirely sure how I wanted that to be expressed for the character (I played around with labels such as androgynous, demi-guy, etc.) but eventually settled on genderfluid, as that felt most fitting to how the character themselves felt about their gender expression. I experimented with various looks and styles, for the most part settling on a shoulder-length haircut, and retro 1970s suits to match.

(It's... Different, that's for sure!)

I admittedly liked the style and the change in fashion, but I consistently returned to the hairstyle they originally had because the hairstyle was difficult for me to draw and often did not fit their remaining wardrobe the same way their old hair had. I continued to experiment with their looks into 2023, but I still struggled to settle on a look. It wasn’t until the end of 2023 that I decided to scrap most of these concepts and decided to return to their 2021 design.

2024

Reverting to Leon’s old design still left much to be desired, however. I was sad because I had a lot of concepts for the character that I wanted to explore, but no proper way to encompass them into a full character.

It turned out that this wasn’t true at all. I just needed to lay the foundation for the character a bit differently. As an off-hand idea, a few friends suggested that I try adapting Leon to the World of Darkness universe, as I had began to have a budding interest in the universe. Applying the concepts I had for Leon into one linear story rather than concepts out of sequence, allowed me to put them into place in a way that allowed the concepts to all be present throughout a journey instead of being present from the get-go. 

This leads me to Leon’s current design.

Leon can be depicted in a myriad of different ways, as their design is meant to encompass a journey - One of self-discovery, transition, and self-acceptance in a time where they barely have words for what or who they are. It’s difficult to entirely nail down a design for how they dress, but I think it’s fun that I can use the excuse to dress them up.

There is a common thread in most of their depictions though. They retain the voluminous, wavy haircut and their round glasses, and I make a point not to change their build regardless of what they’re wearing. I think it's much more interesting how the right cuts and clothes can change a character, and at this stage, I’m incredibly happy with their design and the versatility it gives me.

Conclusion

Do I have a way to really conclude this? Not particularly. I just think it's cool to see how far the character has come given their origin. From a character meant to be killed off to one of my dearest OCs is a massive progression, and I think it's interesting how much they have changed, and how much has stuck around despite these changes. It makes me ecxited for what they might look like in another 5 years!

[annwhiskers]

Art school Portfolio project 1

Please, Go Home

Art school didn't end up happening for me (I'm going to do something completely different and more secure, and keep art and writing for myself for fun), so I thought I’d share my portfolio projects here.

Buckle up, this'll be long as fuck.

This is a story I’d been working on for years, since 2018. I’d rewritten it several times, until in 2023, I got the chance to come up with my own project at design school. Immediately, I knew this was what I wanted. I wanted to make this story into a real book. And I wanted to make it all by hand, cause bookbinding seemed cool to try.

I had to come up with 2 ideas to do.

Translation:

Subject 1

Book. Specifically a novel (written by me). I want to make illustrations of the characters, design the inside (text and design thingies and everything), design the cover. Print and bind it myself. Illustrations of the characters are in it, I’ll try to finish as many as possible, but I probably won’t be able to finish all of them. Then I’ll leave blank pages in and stick the remaining illustration in later. (I did finish them all, so I didn’t need to do this.)

Why? I love books. I read them a lot and I’ve been writing for years. Now I want to make a professional looking book myself. And of course I love to draw, I want to incorporate that too. I’d like to have completely handmade versions of the books I’ve written. I’d like to learn bookbinding.

Subject 2

Graphic novel. I want to learn to tell a story visually. And I want to experiment with color more.

Why? I like to read graphic novels. I want to tell and draw stories, and get better with color.

A mood board of what I wanted, I chose the book.

Translation:

Inside book

Physical book

Character illustrations

Little drawings

Dust jacket

Translation:

Little drawings

Inspiration

Finished product

Why? The main character writes and doodles in a journal. When he’s anxious or his head is full, he doodles a certain type of pattern to calm down. More of the design of the book is based on this. He also sometimes draws little things that he likes.

Translation:

Inside

Fonts

Novels always have a serif font as the standard. Standard book font: Adobe Garamond Pro.

Other than that, I want to use quite a lot of different fonts that resemble handwriting for the chapter titles. The titles are quotes from a character in the chapter, each has their own font as their voice or handwriting. Sometimes, the characters write too, that’s also in their own font.

[A list of fonts.]

Preparations

I made parent-pages for each type of spread that I needed. One with only text, one with an illustration and the start of a chapter, and 2 with only the start of a chapter on either side of the spread. And I made a bunch of paragraph-styles for all the types of text that I needed. I have 2 sections, 1 for the front matter, 1 for the rest.

Translation:

Final product

Here are a few spreads, I won’t show all of them, because that’s 308 of them.

Here I have a spread with an illustration, a basic page with a little drawing in it, and a regular chapter opening where I use one of the other fonts for the title. The titles are quotes, and the font shows who said it.

Translation:

Cover

Research

Adult Fantasy Romance. What’s already out there? (Put a bunch of YA there, but whatever)

I want illustrated, probably with characters. Detailed or silhouette.

Sketches

Colour

Translation:

Final product

Color choice. In the end, this is the illustration I went for. I showed the two bigger color choices from the last page to a friend, she said with the purple one, that the characters nicely sprung out of the image because of the orange. But the green one was more relaxed. I thought the green one fit better with the vibes of the book, but I really like the purple one too. I ended up switching the colours of the text and the characters, so the characters sprung out like the purple one.

Subject. The twigs are around it, because one of the main characters (the right one) often draws them in his journal. They’re also there in the rest of the book, in his journal entries. He’s writing in it on the cover. Left, he’s reading a book, because he does that often, and others in his family do so too. The two shadows are their grandfathers, who also knew each other, which the main two don’t know. Those two have quite a bit of history.

Title. The story is about them meeting each other, and they’ve both been away from home for various reasons. They push each other to go back to their families, that’s why it’s called ‘Please, go home’.

Font. It’s one of the characters fonts, orange left. I wanted to use one of the main characters’ fonts, and I liked this one better.

Translation:

Dust jacket

I put a description on the back, quotes on the front flap, and normally there’s an ‘about the author’ on the back flap, but I didn’t feel like doing that, so I put a short text there to give more context to the book itself.

Sorry about the shitty quality of the next few.

Translation:

Character illustrations

Inspiration

Sketches

I sketched some poses I could use. Other than that, I’m not planning to sketch a lot, I’ve drawn all these characters before and I already have a good idea of what I want them to look like.

Style experiment

I tried something painty first, didn’t like it. After that, I experimented with the background. I didn’t want the colour to go all the way to the edge, because I didn’t want to have to deal with bleed and trimming. In the end, I didn’t give the background any colour, except black and white lines, as you can see in the final result. I liked the effect of only the character having colour.

Translation:

Rune

Earlier drawings

Sketches

Final product

In the book, it’ll be greyscale.

(All the next few have the same text except the characters names, so I won’t translate again. Except if I did add some text somewhere.)

Translation:

And with this, all the illustrations are done. I'm not super happy with all of them, but I did my best to make them all unique and recognizable. And within 4 weeks. I'm happy with it.

Translation:

Physical book

Research

Binding. At first, I thought about doing a standard case-binding, a standard hardcover book. But after watching some tutorials, I realised that's quite complicated and requires supplies that I couldn't easily get. I continued searching and found crisscross-binding or secret Belgian binding. It resembles a standard hardcover book, but you barely have to glue, you need less supplies, and it's easier for beginners. It looks cool, it's sturdy, but also flexible.

Paper and size. A5 size, then I don't have to trim and printing is easy. A4 folded. A4 cream novel paper, I want it to look as professional as I can. It's not the best paper for illustrations, but it does work, I've seen it in other books.

Material. I bought everything I need at an art store in the city, except the paper. I ordered that online.

Practice. As a try-out, I made a small book of printer paper and used watercolour paper. It went well, except that i didn't sew the pages to the spine properly.

Translation:

Final product

Printing

I put my printer at home in my room. First, I tried on standard printer paper if the printer did what I wanted it to do. Which it didn't. It couldn't print double-sided. But with Acrobat, I printed booklets. First only the front, then the back. So I managed to do it.

After successfully printing one booklet on the standard paper(left), I started printing the whole book on the cream paper. Within 1,5 hours, I printed the whole book, 19 booklets. Together with the testing, it took me about 2 hours.

I pressed the pages underneath my cutting mat with two bricks. I left it there for about a day.

Translation:

Cover

I cut the front and back cover out of cardboard, then covered it with linen paper. I drew a twig on it with ink and a brush. Then I poked holes in it for the sewing.

Here, I made the spine 2cm wide, which I thought would be enough. It was not. I'll get back to that. I covered the spine in linen paper, too.

I sewed the cover together, I followed a tutorial on YouTube. Then i glued the end papers on.

Translation:

Binding & Dust jacket

I poked holes (in the booklets) for the sewing, then I started sewing the paper to the cover.

When I'd sewn 6 out of the 19 booklets onto the cover, I was already halfway along the spine and I realised this wasn't going to fit. I undid all the sewing and remade the spine. This time 3cm.

The new spine was still a bit too small, even though I thought I'd exaggerated it a bit. The book doesn't close properly. But I refused to redo everything again, so I just accepted it. It was better after pressing it for a day. I didn't trim the edges, that was very difficult with the pages already bound into the book. I quite like the untrimmed edges.

I folded the dust jacket around it and pressed it, so it'd keep it's shape. And now the book is done. The paper of it smudges very easily. A little bit of dust on it and it won't come off. That's a bit disappointing. (Now a year later, it also isn't lightfast whatsoever. It stood in a dark corner of my bookshelf nowhere near the sun and the spine turned yellow. I guess I now know why covers have protective coatings on them. Which I didn't have the option for.)

Translation:

FINAL final product

Reflection

This project was the most fun thing I did at this school. I've always wanted to do this and it's awesome I can now hold my own book in my hands. The binding was fun to learn, but also a challenge. Not everything went perfectly, like i said earlier. But now I've can learn from those mistakes. I'm quite impressed with myself that I managed to do this in this time. I wasn't sure I could do it. But i did dedicate every moment of free time I had to this.

(I did all of this in 5 weeks. All the teachers doubted me, that it was too much work, and just told me good luck. And I said "Watch me." Autistic hyperfocus activated.)

(The second paragraph isn't important, just a short description of the last discussion I'd had with my teacher about this.)

Awful picture, sorry.

This is the final presentation I had at school for this, and this is where it stops for the school projects side of this. But it continues.

After this, I didn't touch it for a few months. Then I let a friend read it (digitally) and processed her feedback into the book afterwards. Then I published it on Amazon.

This won't be the last time I do this. The whole process is really fun and fulfilling. And owning a real, published book that I wrote, illustrated and designed is awesome.

In case you're interested, click here to buy it.

[j4m3s-b4k3r]

BACK TO THE FUTURE: the animated series

I was working at Disney France when John Hays contacted me, looking for an overseas supervisor for a Saturday Morning cartoon that he'd be directing for Colossal Pictures. I’d done such things before. What interested me about this particular gig was that John wanted the supervisor to firstly work as part of the pre-production team at Colossal. I absolutely loved that idea. So headed to San Francisco to work on the BACK TO THE FUTURE cartoon.

I’d been introduced to John by mutual pal Tony Stacchi while backpacking in the USA a few years earlier. When Colossal diversified from special effects & TV commercials into longer form animation, John remembered me. Thinking my experience in Saturday Morning animation would fit with this new project, that both he & Phil Robinson would direct.. 

The crew had not fully assembled when I arrived in San Francisco. In fact, it was so early in production that even the look of the show had not yet been locked down. Many freelance artists, including Steve Purcell & Dave Fiess, plus Colossal staffers had a crack at design proposals, and I had a go too. 

Colossal had acquired a new building for long form production, but it was still being refit. So, a few of us worked in a cold drafty room at Colossal’s 3rd street building. As the crew expanded, we were housed in a cramped annex in their Custer Street sound stage. Until we finally moved into the facility on 15th street. (That building would eventually host the entire Colossal animation department).

When some designs of mine were selected for the main characters, the plan for me to supervise production in Taiwan was modified. Instead, I became one of two art director/character designers on the series. The mighty John Stevenson being the other. 

There was such a back & forth between Colossal & Universal over the main characters (even the actors got involved) that it was hard to do anything truly unique (although I was happy with how Doc Brown turned out). But we definitely had fun on the secondary character designs. 

Private Stevenson & Private Baker..

John & I both worked on designs for the first episode together, then took it in turns thereafter. I designed characters on even-numbered episodes, and John designed for odd-numbered episodes. We both sat side by side, cracking each other up with sillier & sillier designs. Joyfully competing as the series progressed. (In my opinion, John utterly killed it with his designs for his ROMAN episode..)

Directors John Hays & Phil Robinson really assembled a mighty crew for this series. Dave Gordon & Richard Moore did the BG styling, with Dave doing a lot of great VisDev too. Robin Steele, and future Pixar heavyweights Bud Luckey, & Joe Ranft did the storyboards. Two more future Pixar legends, Bob Pauley & Bill Cone, led much of the layout & location design. Future LucasFilm directors Bosco Ng, & Steward Lee were stalwarts of the art department. Colour styling was by future CNN design director Dewey Reid, and John Pomeroy animated the title sequence! 

After years of living & working in countries where I struggled to learn the language, it was great to finally be in a city where I could actually socialise. I was very lucky to be working with utterly inspiring artists. We often worked late, as we were all excited to be working together.

The pre-pro team was enthusiastic and worked hard, with high hopes for the show. However, by this point in my career I had a pretty good idea of how the Saturday Morning sausage was made. Having worked in the bowels of the sausage factory myself for 10 years by that point. I was hopeful, but also knew that it was anybody’s guess if the show would get the same care at the other end..

A show about a kooky scientist, his young buddy and a time machine had the potential to be absolutely great. The best of Doctor Who and a (family friendly) Rick & Morty. But stories that went to a new time zone each week needed a lot of design. I kept hoping that the scripts would contain less characters & locations. So that we could really refine the model packets. But every script contained tons of NEW characters & locations. Plus new outfits/gear for the main characters too. SIGH..

We'd been promised the 'top floor' animators at Taiwan's Cuckoo's Nest studio, but "Uh oh.." early footage made it clear that we'd gotten the basement crew instead.. "DOH!" Back when I'd supervised outsourcing myself, I learned that if the good artists are already assigned to another project there wasn’t much you could do. So, despite an absolutely stellar design & storyboard team, and early optimism, the show itself came out merely 'OK'. It ran for two seasons on CBS.

It has been one of the counter intuitive aspects of my career that sometimes the fave projects are NOT the best projects.. Despite being merely a footnote in animation history, this was absolutely a linchpin project in my own career, and I have fond memories of it to this day. Many great opportunities that came later were thanks to this show. I met many wonderful artists, who became lifelong friends, who I still work with and/or socialise with, decades later. On this project, I fell in love with San Francisco. And, after living out of a backpack for years, made this kooky town my home. I’d later go on staff at Colossal Pictures, which became my favourite studio I ever worked at. Where I finally escaped from Saturday Morning cartoons, into TV commercials and other more challenging projects.

[foxes-that-run]

Walking in the wind

Harry Styles has a gift for answering a question and not answering it at all at once. In the Made in the A.M track by track he said WITW was inspired by Paul Simon’s song Graceland.

I love how Harry's solo work draws modern inspiration from his diverse music tastes and he encourages his fans to broaden their tastes. Hindsight being 20/20 you can see where he went with his debut in that short video and this song.

When Simon wrote Graceland he and Carrie Fisher were divorcing and his relationship with Art Garfunkel was bitter. Simon said Graceland was a metaphor for the journey to mend a broken heart. Much like 2015 Harry who had broken up with Taylor and was on tour as One Direction ended. Simon also went to Africa to make this album, much like Harry went to South America for debut.

Timeline

Made on the AM was written in Japan in February 2015. Harry talked being able to just write 'good songs' because it wouldn’t be toured which made space for a song like this. WITW was probably written between February and May 2015. Harry and Taylor had been close at the end of 2014, it was over on or by his 21st birthday 2 February 2015. His smile when he saw her at the start (0:29) of BBMAs showed no animosity, but it’s unlikely WITW was written after the BBMAs in May (Woman). He also started looking even sadder live then.

To rolling stone Julian Bunetta said:

“That title was born in Japan. Just the title of it and the idea of it. Everyone’s different experiences of what they’re going through, whether it’s this or that, I’d like to think that these songs can apply to more than just [one instance].”

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Harry] A week ago, you said to me "Do you believe I'll never be too far?" If you're lost, just look for me You'll find me in the region of the summer stars The fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye Means we've already won A necessity for apologies between you and me Baby, there is none

The relaxed and happy tone depicts their romantic friendship that continues. I think they genuinely cared for each other, are nice people who both prioritised their careers. To me, “the fact we can say goodbye means we’ve already won” shows that mutual respect for each other.

To me “Do you believe I���ll never be too far” is agreeing to be apart while they focus on being massively famous and together in the future.

In the context of their later work about being end game, the 1, sushi is about having only a piece of your persons life, in as it was and golden he sings about it being time or feel her taking over.

Harry does not have anyone that would never be too far in a literal sense, and although at that time he was always with 1D they have spoken in interviews that year of that not being good.

[Pre-Chorus: Niall] Ah-ooh, we had some good times, didn't we? Ah-ooh, we had some good tricks up our sleeve Ah-ooh, goodbyes are bittersweet But it's not the end, I'll see your face again

Taylor has a similar lyric in The 1 “But we were something, don't you think so? / Roaring 20s, / tossing pennies in the pool / And if my wishes came true / It would've been you” this is about appreciating the relationship.

[Chorus: All] And you will find me Yeah, you will find me In places that we've never been For reasons we don't understand Walking in the wind Walking in the wind

Where their earlier work on Red and other 1D albums sung about always wanting to be together and coping in their career by Made in the AM and Reputation onwards they started singing about being connected but apart, on faith they’d come back together.

[Verse 2: Louis] Yesterday, I went out To celebrate the birthday of a friend But as we raised our glasses up to make a toast I realised you were missing

This may be referring to the friends birthday where they both were. Harry’s 21st birthday was 2 weeks later but Lily and Taylor were in Nashville. In Hunger he sang about making her cry on his birthday, if it was for Debut the 1 year to 2 timeframe line up for that. (Hunger also sings of “your stuff” as in music, doesn’t taste the same, as in Two Ghosts)

Later on 27 February he posted the overgrown winding wheel and she started dating CH.

[Bridge: Harry] And I know we'll be alright, child Just close your eyes and see I'll be by your side Any time you're needing me Oh, yeah

The bridge is similar to Fine Line, which also ends on “we’ll be alright” in Fine line he’s reflecting on being friends with someone he’s in love with. Here he is asking his muse to have faith that although they are not together he’s there for her. Also Sign of the Times "Just stop your crying / It'll be alright"

I just wanna love you leak

In September 2023 a leaked song, I just wanna love you referenced WITW with “A week ago you said to me: "We've started running out of time" / Crying over memories that we lost and cannot be found / Why don't we stop talking now? / (I just wanna love you)” which to me, in the sound and this lyric is the sequel to WITW, he’s saying it’s time. It also refers to Late night talking, and The 1 and Question…? Where they explore friendship with someone they love, in WITW they seem to agree to leave a live unresolved, on Harry’s House and Midnights they are contemplating that unresolved love.

[cape-cod-lullaby]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!! I love your art so much, what kind of art inspires you and who do you look up to the most? I hope you have an amazing birthday and happy new year 🎄💗💗💌💌🎄🎄🫶🏼🫶🏼💌🎄🫶🏼💌🎄🫶🏼🎄💌🎄

YAY thank youuuu

i had to consider this question thoroughly… surprisingly, there’s no artist i’ve ever been really inspired by in a way of wanting to incorporate some part of their style to mine. it’s the particular moments that impact me deeply. it’s sort of visceral, i’ve never had an intention to create my own individual style so i’ve never kept track of influences, but i, of course, do not exist in a vacuum and there’s gotta be things that leave an imprint on my creations. it’s more like i absorb beauty all around and it feeds my creative energy as a whole.

to name people who i look up to:

among comic artists i admire Takehiko Inoue most, that’s for sure. it’s the author of Slam Dunk, Vagabond and Real (the latter is my favorite). he has this impeccable academic-ish skill and realistic art is kinda my realm so i aspire to become as meticulous as him, but not particularly LIKE him.

in other manga artists it’s usually not the style in itself, but individual visual storytelling decisions that make me go crazy. i love Tatsuki Fujimoto’s paneling when it comes to dialogues — these sections of almost identical close-up panels with characters’ faces which expressions are subtly changing with every new phrase. i wholeheartedly respect Yoshihiro Togashi’s versatility when it comes to character design — the nerve he has to interchange detailed and realistic figures with vague, primitive ones. i respect Ai Yazawa’s line work and here i WISH i could do the same but i have distaste for doing line work myself because i become obsessed with redrawing every single dot and it slows the process too bad.

as for painting, i’m completely omnivorous. i watch paintings every day while scrolling social media and i pick up on good artistic moves. if you went to a gallery with me, i’d regard every painting with interest because i’m crazy about picking apart the way painters work with shapes, patterns and colors. after all, composition is my favorite framework, i’m soooo anal-retentive about that. i would call Edward Munch the absolute GOAT in composition.

my fav:

among my favorite avant-garde artists are Anselm Kiefer, Gerghard Richter, Basquiat, Egon Schiele and Marc Chagall to name a few.

i love graphics too, for example Tagashige Ono:

my favorite genre by far is still-life. this is Horst Jannsen:

what truly influences me in real time is art that doesn’t usually have an author’s name pinned to it or this very name is not relevant because the individual artist is a part of tradition. i’m talking about murals, ritualistic objects, textiles, frescoes. i learned a lot from orthodox iconography and eastern christian miniatures. i’m big on East Asia’s buddhist and hinduist art and japanese graphics. i never miss brand new exhibitions at the local Eastern Art gallery.

like, this is my favorite artwork of all time, no cap:

the second huge source of inspiration for me is cinema and documentary photography. i straight up gather screenshots every time i’m watching a movie. in terms of visuals my favorite director is Zhang Yimou. his film “Raise The Red Lantern” is pretty much what i wish my art would look and feel like.

the second best would be Wong Kar-Wai and Paolo Pasolini. also Tarkovsky, i guess🤔

anyway, thanks for giving me an opportunity to geek out!! i could talk about pretty images for eternity.

[bejeweledblondie]

The Lakes

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x F! Reader

Summary: While on leave for a vacation road trip, Y/N & Johnny come across the Windermere Peaks & talk about their future together. Based on “The Lakes” off of Folklore by Taylor Swift

A/N: Miss Swift is a big inspiration for my work she has a huge discography so yeah, legit this is all I want too. If I could resort to living a small cabin in the woods by a beautiful lake I’d be seventh heaven

Warnings: none

“I don’t belong, & my beloved neither do you”

It had been a few years since you & Johnny took a vacation all to yourselves. He had been working overtime consistently for the past few months & finally he was given some time off. You put in for vacation time & the both of you decided on a road trip. There were still parts of the new country you called home you hadn’t seen before & you wanted to see them in a fun way. Johnny & you had been driving all over the UK for the past two weeks. You planned on ending your trip in Edinburgh so he could show you around his favorite locals spots.

Johnny pulled the rental car you two had chosen into the parking lot of the bed & breakfast the two of you were staying at. It was a old Tudor style cottage in the northwest English countryside. You studied literature at university & wanted to see where William Wordsworth spent the final years of his career as a writer. He parked the car & the two of you started to unpack the car. The air was crisp & refreshing compared to the smog that sat over London. You looked up at the cottage, admiring it’s wisteria & ivy that grew along the side of the building.

“Come on love let’s get settled, then we can go for a nice lunch.” Johnny said grabbed your suitcase from your hand. He never let you carry your own luggage. The both of you walked in & were amazed by the decor. Victorian furniture & carved oak woodwork decorated the interior. A small older woman greeted the two of you from the top of the stairs.

“Oh you must be the MacTavish’s!” She said & started down the stairs.

“Yes ma’am, we are.” Johnny replied smiling at her.

“Oh well I am Mrs. Harkness,” She greeted them. “But please call me Rebekah. Come follow me upstairs I’ll show you around & to your rooms.” The more you looked around the home the more you realized this was your ideal home. The cozinesses & tranquility brought a sense of comfort to you. The room Johnny had rented could’ve made you melt into the floor. A marble fireplace with a Edwardian clock faced the art deco style bed with green velvet bedding. “I’ll leave you two, enjoy your stay. Breakfast is from nine to eleven am tomorrow.”

“Oh John,” You sighed looking around the room. “This room is beautiful.”

“I knew you’d love it.” He said smirking to himself as he put your suitcases on the small loveseat that was in the corner of the room. “You want to get some lunch?” He asked. You nodded following him out of the room. After getting a recommendation from Rebekah you guys decided on a small sandwich shop. The both of you decided on a outdoor picnic the autumn air was perfect for it. The two of you picked a willow tree that sat upon a hill over looking the lakes.

“This is perfect John.” You said turning to look at him. He brushed some of the hair that had flown into your face over your ear.

“I know darling.” He replied. You leaned into his touch & he leaned in for a kiss. He placed one hand on your waist deepening the kiss. Once the two of you were coming up for the air you rested your foreheads together.

“This is what I want for us John.” You softly said. “Imagine it, us maybe a sheep dog & two little ones running around. A cottage that overlooks the lakes.” You smiled just at the thought of it. “I want for our little ones to grow up with grass, trees, for them to be adventurous.”

“Just like their mother,” John started & kissed you again.

“More like you Mr. MacTavish.” You replied & booped his nose. You took his hand pressing it to your little now growing baby bump. His large hands started to rub small circles on your stomach. You brought a hand up to his face your finger tips danced along his stubble. Just you wanted to basking this intimate moment for as long as you could.

“God I love you so much.” John whispered.

“I love you most.” You replied kissing him again. “We should get going baby MacTavish has decided they want something sweet.” You giggled.

[novabjd]

Hi there! My name is Lunar.

I have been in the BJD hobby for decades, but I’ve spent the last eight years or so on hiatus. I don’t know if I fell out of love with the hobby or what, but I stopped playing with my dolls, and nothing was inspiring me, anymore.

That is, until I came across someone selling their Logan.Dolls Valentine on Facebook three days ago. I kept revisiting the listing, drawn to the sculpt. I kept on wondering what I would do with the doll if he was in my collection. And, all of a sudden, that spark that I’d been missing came back! I became hooked, and started to dream up a character. I started to look for owner photos, shop for eyes and clothes. I finally made an offer on the doll on the Marketplace, and as of three am this morning, my offer was accepted. I’m now paying for my new doll through layaway. I haven’t sent the first payment yet, since I don’t get paid until next Friday, but the intention is there: Valentine will be mine!

It’s been awhile since I’ve been on tumblr, but I am setting up camp here, since Logan.Dolls are banned on Den of Angels. I decided to start a new tumblr (instead of opening up my old one), because I wanted a fresh start for this collection of dolls. Right now, I’m thinking it’s only going to be the one doll, since he’s the only one who inspires me at this moment. But who knows, maybe I’ll get more dolls down the road.

As for the new doll, my Valentine is in blue resin (oooooo!), and will come with an OE and a dreamy faceplate, as well as some extra hands. He will have the masc chest and the femme hips, and his name will be Nova.

Nova is a fallen star, and a fortune teller! I spent forever looking for the perfect eyes for him on Etsy. I finally picked out a pair and am waiting for them to ship to me. I’m still deciding how I want to style his hair, but I know that it will be white. I can do faceups, but all of my art supplies are in storage, and I’m thinking that for this doll, I want to commission faceups and body blushing. I’m thinking of sending Nova to Angel Toast, an artist that I’ve always admired, and would like to own some of his work someday.

So that’s what I’m planning. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be reacquainting myself with dolly tumblr, shopping for clothes and wigs, and adding to this blog. Other people’s content, first, and then, some of my own once Nova and his stuff start to arrive.

See you all around! :)

[savebylou]

hi cc, what is the idea of you and what are people hating on it?

Hi anon. I will put my answer below because is too long and I'm unable to explain it short.

The idea of you is a book that now is having a screen adaptation on prime, here is the trailer. Acording to the author Robinne Lee she was inspired by a guy in a boyband, here is her quote:

A few years ago, my husband was away on business and I was up late surfing music videos on YouTube when I came across the face of a boy I’d never seen in a band I’d never paid attention to, and it was so aesthetically perfect it took me by surprise. It was like…art. I spent a good hour or so Googling and trying to figure out who this kid was and in doing so I discovered that he often dated older women, and so the seed was planted. When my husband returned a couple of days later, I joked with him that I’d found the perfect guy and I was leaving him and our two kids, “oh, and by the way, he’s half my age.”

So basically initially she was inspired by Harry Styles, here are some tweets of her talking about the character. Then in other interview mentions that is a combination of different guys:

I made him into my dream guy,” she told me, “like Prince Harry, meets Harry [Styles],” plus a couple of ex-boyfriends, a little of her husband, and a dash of Eddie Redmayne.

I think the movie is being controversial because first is inspired by Harry dating older women since he was younger, according to the author the character is 20, but the womaniser image that Harry had and that likes and dates older women and this image started when he was 17, a minor.

This idea of Harry liking older women, just reduce him as an artist just to that image that has been know for the general public is just frustrating. And also in the articles and social media talking about the movie they had been making the comparison between photos of Nicholas and Harry.

Nicholas said this quote about if the character is inspired by Harry Styles:

“We tried to create a character that felt, you know, a kin to Harry in a sense that he’s a younger man dating older women. It was important to create someone who felt new and original and not a shoddy impersonation of this person.”

Anything that mentions Harry Styles will always bring attention and clicks so the promo of the movie know what they are doing, and this is nothing against Nicholas, the book is just inspired by Harry and the movie is promoted with that idea.

Now the second problem is that the songwriter and producer of the album of the movie of this fictional boyband is Savan Kotecha. If you are not aware he is a producer and songwriter and was involved with One Direction since The X Factor and work for the first two albums of the band. Savan is a person not liked in the fandom, because he basically never wanted the boys to be part of the songwriting, he saw the band as this machine, never saw the boys as artists and said awful things about Louis. He is one of the persons responsable that Louis didn't get that much solos, read this transcript for more info.

Savan also in that interview explains that couldn't see the boys as this grown young adults that wanted to write songs, because he knew them since they started and didn't think they would have the ability to do so (he was wrong as we know). So Savan left after the second album, now his association with this movie that is related to Harry and 1D is his way of trying to stay relevant again in the fandom.

This is my perspective, but anyone can have a different POV of what the movie is hated and probably they would explain better than me. Sorry for the long response as you can't see I can't write short answers.

[euphorial-docx]

a breakdown of opev reg’s style evolution because i felt like talking about it :)

PART 1: OGNI PARTE E VIVA🍊

in opev, regulus didn’t truly develop a sense of style yet. he was still trying to figure himself out, and figure out a way to express that in ways he was comfortable.

regulus mostly dressed for comfort in opev.

in the warm seasons, he’d wear a lot of loose button ups and t-shirts, shorts or swim trunks. he most of the time wore a pair of converse, and sometimes sunglasses. in the colder seasons, he wore standard cold weather things like sweaters, jeans, gloves, hats, etc etc. he also rewears outfits often.

there were times where he would show some of his personality in his outfits. the things he truly did style were: his hair, his jewelry (namely the star of david necklace), and the occasional band t-shirt. his clothes usually are cool tones, such as blues and cool greens, as well as neutrals like white and black. outside of those things, he dressed pretty generically.

i feel his style reflects the music he listened to at the time. opev regulus was on the new wave train from the start, being a fan of the talking heads and joy division early in their careers. while joy divison was dark in tone, talking heads was relatively upbeat and a more familiar band to regulus as they’d been around longer than joy division.

my inspirations for his outfits was, very unsurprisingly, elio from call me by your name. although i did stray away from the polo shirts, because i didn’t think opev regulus would really wear those. i wanted to keep a sense of put togetherness despite his lack of personal style by having him wear loose button ups a lot and take care of his hair.

there is only one instance in opev where regulus has a chance to dress up a little bit, and that’s when he and james go to an art gallery. regulus wears a button up shirt, jeans, and a jean jacket.

good elio references i looked at a lot for opev:

PART 2: TEMPS SANS FIN🌃

i know we haven’t dived too much into the sequel yet, but oh boy do i have plans for his fashion there.

between opev and tsf, regulus has developed a true sense of self and a sense of fashion of his own. part of that was from his experiences in university, where he dated a musician named chiara who got him more into the new wave/goth music scene. another part was simply him getting older and living independently.

in the 70s regulus dressed for necessity and with a vague new wave influence, and in the 80s he expanded on that a bit.

i’d describe his 80s style as predominately new wave with a bit of goth and new romantics thrown in there.

he has kept with his loose button ups, but has traded his converse for boots and began to experiment a little more with accessories. necklaces, rings, and yes even earrings and nail polish have made their way into his outfits. he’s also began to use makeup, albeit just a little, when it comes to his eyes, reminiscent of the goth and new romantics influences he’s gathered.

his hair has changed over the years, and he’s started doing a variation of the wavy pompadour/elephant trunk hairstyle popular among the new wave scene as well as more mainstream scenes. i imagine the hairstyle to be a bit like duckie’s from pretty in pink, but mostly like elio’s hair in the epilogue of cmbyn.

as i said for part 1, music greatly inspires opev regulus’s style. in the 80s, his edge of goth and new romantics comes from the music he started listening to. he leaned more into goth in the 80s with his love for bands such as the cure (at least early the cure), depeche mode, bauhaus, echo & the bunnymen, and the smiths— he also kept up his love for joy division, while his passion for talking heads faded a bit as they wandered more into pop territory.

inspirations i have for regulus include: john taylor, steve jansen, a little bit of john koviak and robert smith, but heavy with the john taylor

photo inspo (most of which are john taylor. i’m sorry. his outfits are just almost exactly what i picture reg wearing in the 80s.)