#maybe i should colour the main piece first BEFORE i start adding stuff

[sheeshiki]

[comfy-whumpee]

Whumping Safely 101

Many people in this community have mental health problems, face various types of discrimination, and have complicated relationships with some parts or types of whump. In particular, I aim this at people who care about the experience of survivors and others with triggers – partially because I am an abuse survivor who often flirts with triggering content as part of my love of whump.

Keeping your blog safe is difficult, takes effort, and is never a perfect process. But as the community grows and grows, it’s really important that we hold ourselves to a high standard. I would argue that this is a responsibility of all content creators, but especially those of us in the messy playground of whump.

I’ve got three sections in here: content warnings, writing with care, and community interaction. I’ve tried to make it navigable. It’s about 1.8k words. Shorter than a lot of drabbles! I welcome good-faith criticism on this topic and further questions on my own views.

Content Warnings

The biggest responsibility, in my opinion, is empowering your reader to make their own decision on whether they want to expose themselves to your writing. This also happens to be by far the easiest way to help people whump safely.

What to warn

This is a big and ever-changing topic. Some things you should warn for as a rule of thumb are anything NSFW, pet whump and box boy whump, drugs and alcohol, medical and hospital content, graphic gore, intimate partner violence, and animal harm. It can be tricky to draw the line of what counts – what needs a warning? If you’re in doubt, just warn it anyway. It doesn’t hurt.

If someone requests a trigger be warned for, even if it’s something that feels obscure or tame, show compassion and agree to the request. This is someone who cares enough about being able to read your writing that they wrote in! They want to be able to read it and enjoy it. You’re being complimented.

Otherwise, look at what other blogs tag for. You’ll see some variation in styles and levels of detail, but it’s a good way to gauge what people think is warn-worthy, when we’re often writing stuff that would already be R-rated in mainstream media.

Read Mores

The easiest way to make sure people don’t see your triggering content is to use a cut. Tumblr is not a very functional website and likes to delete cuts, but a cursory check of your posted content will usually tell you whether it’s worked. With asks, cuts are very spotty, so don’t be afraid to post an ask response separately with a screengrab of the original question. People often then respond to the ask itself with a link to the post, especially if it’s a whole drabble. Tumblr is weird and bad so just do your best.

Content notices

I.e., a quick summary before the drabble, usually in bold, to state what will be coming. I like to distinguish between using content notes (CN) and trigger warnings (TW) to indicate severity. Others might use the old phrase ‘dead dove do not eat’ to indicate this is a heavy piece, and often you will see qualifiers like ‘intense’, ‘mild’, ‘mention’, ‘referenced’ (i.e. it is discussed but not actively happening), and ‘implied’ (as the opposite of ‘explicit’). I’ve also seen a couple of people use ‘vibes’, which is a really nice way of demonstrating that it’s there, but not the focus. A quick paragraph like this, or just a line, lets people make a quick risk assessment on their reading.

This is also important if you’re sending in asks or requests to people. If you want to ask about something triggering, send an inquiry first about whether the blog is okay to hear it.

Tagging

Tagging is a chore, but it’s your primary way of warning people about your content. The main benefit of tagging is that you can be as detailed as you want, because can be tagging for content in general, not just triggers.

In a best case scenario, you’d tag the kind of whump you’re doing, tag triggers, tag characters, and even your ‘verses, because tagging is your index for your blog. If you tag reliably, you help your future self and your readers find stuff, and you also make your blog really dang safe. People who have unusual triggers can blacklist tags, and will pick up on your content tags to help them.

Don’t just tag your own writing. Tag your reblogs, tag your prompts, tag your asks. Yes, edit your asks to add the tags. Tag your images and gifs. Tag your images as images and your gifs as gifs.

If you aren’t up for detailed tagging for whatever reason, just tag for triggering content, and add stuff to that list if you’re asked to. My usual technique is to make a mental note of tags while I’m formatting and editing before posting.

Be aware that your first five tags will be used in search results. If you’re using tags that are associated with kink too, such as ‘shibari’, you might want to rethink your tag order if you don’t want interaction from those blogs. Also think about what tags might come up in non-whump contexts, such as ‘collar’ or ‘PTSD’. Some tactics for getting around this I’ve seen are adding ‘whump’ after the content or writing the tags in past tense (i.e., ‘collared’).

It is also a good idea to watch out for when you might be reblogging something whumpy that is intended as kink / porn / fetish, especially in images. Tagging these as spicy / nsfw / kink is a sensible move.

Writing with Care

Okay, now for the harder stuff.

I mean here to lay out some guidelines for how to write in a way that helps your reader build good faith. This is a much more nuanced topic, and it’s different for everyone. There will always be differing opinions on what should and shouldn’t be written about, what a good depiction of a sensitive topic is, and how to discuss that topic. I tried to strip this back into absolute basics that I hope we can all agree on.

Maybe your whump involves abuse. Maybe it’s gaslighting. Maybe it’s severe mental health problems, or addiction, or slavery, or you write about or analogise real-world issues. Whump deals with the dark stuff, and that’s a big part of its appeal. But don’t ever forget you’re writing the dark stuff.

(Try to) Know what you’re doing

Some of us play fast and loose with plots, medical accuracy, worldbuilding, and other things that get in the way of the pain we crave. This is all well and good, but when we start using whump that speaks true to people’s lived experiences, we shouldn’t be careless with it. I’m particularly talking about things that get represented poorly in mainstream media, such as abusive relationships, issues around marginalisation, mental illness and disability.

Be critical of media that you’ve consumed. Think about how its depicted things that you want to depict in turn. Look for opinions on fictional representations of those issues. Be aware that you might be more ignorant of things than you realise.

Look at how others are writing these issues, particularly if they’re writing from a perspective different to yours. If you haven’t personally experienced what you’re writing about, e.g., if you don’t have PTSD and you want to depict a character who does, seek out stuff written from or with experience. Listen to the experts.

If you’re looking for stuff about representation specifically, I recommend this collection of posts about ‘Braving Diversity’ cultivated by Writing With Colour, who are in themselves a fantastic resource for this topic, and have recommendations for other blogs that deal with intersecting issues.

Listen to others

Missteps are inevitable. Nobody is perfect. If constructive criticism is offered, that’s also a compliment to your writing. Someone read your work and thought about it, and thought you’d care about improving it. They’re offering themselves as a resource for helping you see your work in a new light.

Criticism is hard and sometimes hurtful, but even if we don’t think it’s accurate, there’s often a grain of truth in it. If someone tells you that your writing is harmful, think about why they’ve said that, not whether or not they’re correct. This is an opinion! Opinions are subjective! But what drove someone to send that in?

You don’t have to respond to all your criticism and definitely don’t respond straight away. Being respectful to those who are trying to help you means taking the time to consider it properly. Sometimes, they don’t need a response. Others, you might want to learn more about what they think before deciding. You might have already discussed the topic, in which case, you might just want to reblog your previous posts.

If it’s sent in bad faith or is outright hateful, you’re well within your rights to just delete it and move on. You might get the same criticism over and over again, and that’s exhausting, and you don’t have to retrace your steps for everyone.

But if it’s new, even if it puts your hackles up, you can always stop and wonder why someone felt that strongly about your work.

Take a step back

One of my better-known characters is a pet whumper who conditioned his victim to adore and depend on him. It’s not always easy to represent how deeply messed up that is within the text – though I think that’s part of the challenge – but in meta-commentary, I am always describing him as a creeptastic bastard lacking compassion and self-reflection. I hope to always give the reader the confidence that I know just how wrong it is.

This is a really simple thing you can do just to give readers good faith in you. Show that you know what you’re writing is dark and messed up. Show your understanding for the issues you’re handling and that they’re complicated. It might seem self-evident, but when you’re writing the really dark stuff, or unhealthy relationships, or institutionalised whump, you can inadvertently create the impression that you just think it’s fun. The fact that it’s fiction does not automatically absolve you. Show that you care about doing it right.

Community Interaction

I’m going to keep this one short and sweet because I will almost entirely be preaching to the choir here.

Be polite to others. Imagine saying what you’re saying to their face.

Don’t send anon hate. Just don’t. If you can send criticism off anon, do so.

Nobody is obligated to interact with you.

Nobody is obligated to monitor their own reader base.

If someone says do not interact, do not interact.

If someone says do not interact, why they’ve said that is none of your business.

You don’t need to spread the word about someone’s bad politics.

Ask yourself if your input is needed, or if what you’ve said has already been said.

You don’t have to take a side.

Take care of yourself. Take breaks. Remind yourself that whump is a small part of the world.

That’s all from me, folks. Stay safe.

[teacup-crow]

The Christmas Runner

On the 12th Christmas Eve after the world ended, Molly and Carena told someone the story of the Christmas Runner. Major end of S3 spoilers, very minor spoilers for early S5. 

I spent all day in bed and this happened? Will probably go on AO3 once I polish it (and when it’s actually close to Christmas). Promise it’s wholesome!

(In my headcanon here Carena is 15, Molly is 13 and Sara is 7)

“Sam’s givin’ you how much to watch her?” Carena Skeet spluttered, towering over the younger girl, leaning her hands over her head on the brick wall of the housing block. The moon was a sharpened, thin crescent, and lights winked in the guard towers. Over in the main barn, they could faintly hear the twanging of a slightly out-of-tune guitar and some tipsy singing, suggesting the grown-ups’ Christmas Eve party was already in full swing.

Everyone said that Molly Harrison was the prettiest girl in Abel, with blonde curly hair and eyes blue enough to knock out zoms, but right now she was shifting foot-to-foot, looking more irritated than anything else.

“A loaf of crusty bread and a pot of blackcurrant jam, and… you’re not having any of it, Caz.”

“Dr Cohen only promised me a bloody book!” Carena pouted, but avoided stomping her foot. She’d about grown out of that. Nobody would dare call her pretty, but she was too, in a fiercely intimidating way. It was two months until she turned sixteen and could finally start Runner training, and she’d already begun practicing first thing every morning, tearing around the training shed when the sun had barely risen. Where Molly was soft and homely, she was angled and muscular. “You can read it if you let me have a spoonful.”

“That’s a rubbish trade and you know it! I won’t always go along with everything you tell me to do, you know, it’s not fair-“

“Oh blah blah blah, quit whinin’, let’s just get the job done before they realise they double-booked.” She dropped her hands and stalked away. Her foster dad’s old fireman jacket was too big on her, but wearing the king’s clothing added to her swagger.

“You don’t like kids,” Molly pointed out, stumbling a little behind her as she strode off to the front door.

“Kids is fine. Kids is kids. I have, like, fifteen siblings. I know what I’m doing.”

“Yes, and you don’t like any of them. And they’re all the same age as you!”

“What can I say, I’m not good at sharing.” She turned and gazed pointedly at Molly, who shrugged it off. “It doesn’t take two people to babysit a seven year old.”

“Yeah, so go away, Caz. You don’t even want a book.”

“Gotta get on Dr Myers’ and Sam’s good side if I want to be recommended for Runner, don’t I? Janine respects their opinion more than anyone else except Runner Five.”

“So go and sit on guard duty with Runner Five and earn their approval.”

“You jokin’? Five’s batshit.”

“They’re also the only reason we’re not dead, so maybe you should be a bit more respectful.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t try to tell me what to do, Molly Harrison...” Carena’s tone was affronted, teetering on nasty. Then she stopped herself. “But yeah, you’re right. Five’s batshit bonkers, but they’re awesome.”

“And scary?” Molly added.

“Yeah, if you’re a wuss.”

They’d reached the green wooden door of Maxine and Paula’s apartment, a wreath on the outside, a menorah in the window. Sara had hung paper chains all down their part of the corridor. It made both the teenagers smile for a second or two.

Carena knocked, to no reply. She tried again. 

“That’s weird,” she muttered.

“Sara, you in there?” Molly tried, peeking through the window. 

“Sara, we brought chocolate!”

This caused a patter of feet to charge towards the door. Carena grinned. “First rule of kids is lie through your teeth.”

“MOLLY!” Sara sprang through the door in a bright blur of red sweater and green trousers, and jumped into Molly’s outstretched arms. “Did you bring Galileo too?”

Years before, when Archie Jensen had lost Mildred van der Graff to an explosion, Five had managed to get their own chicken back to Abel relatively unscathed. Molly, already interested in animals even as a small child, had adopted Galileo Figaro, a now-geriatric menace with a beak that had lasted longer than anyone expected. The hen had strong memories of her dinosaur roots, and, apart from Molly, Five and Sara, would attack almost anyone who dared enter the coop.

“Galileo’s an old hen, she’s resting.”

“She went cluck-cluck-cluck over the rainbow bridge to Ed Harrison’s stomach, you mean.”

“Caz! Dad would never!” Molly looked scandalised as Carena burst out laughing at her own joke. Thankfully, it went over Sara’s head as she dropped down from Molly’s arms and stared up at Carena’s jacket in awe. Caz ruffled her mop of springy hair affectionately. She liked this kid, at least. It was very difficult not to.

“Hello, baby Sara, how’s it goin’?”

“Good, Princess Caz! I’m making a jigsaw puzzle. It’s got a million trillion pieces!”

“Sounds like an absolute riot. Tell you what, Molly can finish it with you and I’ll heat up the rations.”

Molly nodded despite herself, taking the pudgy little hand in hers and stepping into the cosy apartment. “Okay, let’s go, hopefully we have all the pieces...”

“Daddy had to remake some of the missing ones but he said you can barely tell the difference, sort of! Anyway, you said you had chocolate?”

This was still one of the oldest housing blocks in Abel, but instead of enough bunks for eight people the two rooms comfortably housed the little family of three, bathroom splitting a bedroom on one side and a family room on the other with a table and a bookshelf and warm candle-lit lamps too high for Sara to knock over on the mantelpiece. Woollen throws covered the kind of battered armchairs you sank into and artwork lined the walls. There was even a tidy kitchen corner with a kettle and a camp stove and a stack of chipped plates and mugs. It was one of Carena’s favourite places: better even than sharing a room with some of the roller girls on a rare trip to see her foster dad in London; much better than her own springy bunk in the children’s dorms, the wall behind her chequered curtain plastered in pictures and photos and plans but still not private enough to block out the whining and crying of the little ones all night. It was nice to see a place where a real family lived. When she stood in the centre of the room, she could squeeze her eyes shut and almost picture the faces of her real parents, her actual bedroom, the kitchen they’d had with a white-tiled floor. Or was it sand-coloured tiles? She wasn’t quite sure, not that she’d admit it. Whenever anyone asked, she always said she remembered the pre-zombie world perfectly.

“Caz? Are you heating up the food or...?”

“I’m getting to it!” She stomped towards the stove, where Sara’s parents had already left a few crumbling Tupperware containers of pea soup from the kitchens, and Molly had brought a bowl of eggs to hard boil if they felt snacky. Not particularly inspiring, but then food had been limited for the last week as the kitchens saved all their supplies up for Christmas Day. And none of them knew how to be fussy: Sara and Molly did not remember a time when food was plentiful, and Carena’s last remnants of pickiness had been starved out of her when the Ministry occupied Abel. She’d been nine, and her stomach hadn’t stopped rumbling for that whole terrible ten months. It ached again a little just thinking about it. She wondered if that had left her weaker, permanently damaged her chance to become a Runner or a roller-girl. As if her asthma wasn’t enough of a handicap. Well, she’d do it anyway. Nothing was going to get in her way, least of all the legacy of those who had hurt her foster father. 

“Three bowls of green soup, coming up!” She added a lick of salt, and stirred the metal pot. The ruckus from the square was louder now, almost matched by the younger girls playing with the puzzle behind her.

“I can’t tell if this is supposed to be a man’s face or a rat.”

“Daddy’s not a very good draw-er.”

“I mean… he could use some practice, to be honest. Any clue on where this piece should fit, Caz?”

Carena doled out the bowls and spoons. “Looks like a squiggle with earmuffs to me. Sam’s crap at art.”

“Don’t swear in front of Sara!”

“She’ll be fiiiine,” Carena rolled her eyes. “Lighten up, Molly.”

“Yeah, lighten up, Molly!” Sara echoed jubilantly. “Crap, crap, crap.”

“Okay, you can cut it out now. Eat your dinner.”

Molly changed the subject, sensing another mischievous outburst of swearing on the horizon. “Are you excited for Christmas, Sara?”

“Yeah! Did you hear that we’re going to have a hog roast and potatoes?! And games! And, and, Ms Marsh knitted me a hat and mittens!”

“How do you know about that?” Molly admonished. Sara immediately looked caught in the act.

“I… maybe heard her and Mama talking about it.”

“Did you ‘maybe hear’ or were you spying on your Mama?”

“I wasn’t spying! People just think kids can’t hear stuff!”

“Hey, spyin’ is a great skill, don’t knock it, Mol. Don’t worry, we won’t tell.”

“I wasn’t spying!” Sara drank down the last of her soup, licked the bowl, and pouted adorably. It was hard for the babysitters not to laugh.

“You know, I think that piece might actually be a clockwork mouse. I think it goes down at the bottom…”

They finished the jigsaw with only four missing pieces. “It’s… a big man in a red coat with a white beard! With lots of toys. I’m going to call him Mr Bob.”

“Sara, that’s Santa. Do you not know about Santa?”

“Father Christmas?” Molly tried, although she wasn’t completely confident either. Sara looked blank.

“You know my father is called Sam Yao?”

“No, baby, Santa Claus is different. He brings things to good children at Christmas.” In the back of her mind was an image of Ed in a terribly cobbled together Santa suit, a tiny Molly on his shoulders. A good memory in a flock of bad ones. It twinged in her chest.

“He’s a Runner?”

Carena sighed. “Basically. Yeah. Santa Claus is just another name for the Christmas Runner. Every Christmas Eve, he goes from township to township, leaving gifts for all of the children.”

“How does he get through the gates?”

“Well, duh, he lets the township leaders know what time he’s going to come on Rofflenet first. And he’s really fast, so he doesn’t need to worry about Raiders or zoms. He’s got a big sled drawn by nine dogs for all the presents!”

Sara’s eyes sparkled. “What are the dogs called?”

“Well, the main one is Rudolf, and he’s an, an Irish red setter. Or he wears a red jumper, like you. Something to do with red. The other ones…” she looked to Molly for assistance, and realised the blonde girl was just as enraptured. “The other ones aren’t important.”

“Caz!”

“Fine! Dasher, Dancer, Prancer… Victor?” 

Her mind drew a complete blank. Somewhere in her subconscious, a woman’s voice read the words of Twas the Night Before Christmas, but she couldn’t quite make them out. “Um… Gold, Frankincense, Myrrh and Spam?”

Molly snorted in surprise, her face contorting and shoulders shaking as she tried to hold back a peal of laughter. At least Sara seemed satisfied. “Okay, so how come I don’t hear them all?”

“He sneaks in with magic and only when you’re extremely tired so it’s, like, impossible to stay up to hear. But if you leave a sock on the end of your bed he’s guaranteed to put sommat cool in it.”

“How will he know what I like?”

Molly looked thoughtful. “Maybe you should leave him a list? But you like a lot of things.”

“And my socks are quite small.” Sara looked pensive, kicking her feet in the air to check the size of them. “You two should write lists as well!”

“I’m too old to write one-“ Carena tried, but Sara was already insistently jabbing a pencil and an old receipt at her from a scrap paper drawer in the cabinet.

“These big long lists from the olden days are perfect, we can use the back.”

Carena’s eyes flitted over the receipt. Morrisons. Mango, papaya, hummus, avocadoes. All words she didn’t recognise, foods she would never get to try, and, suddenly intimidated, she laid it down on the table. She wasn’t the strongest reader or writer at the best of times - she’d learned too late, and it was difficult with so many new things in a row. Sara sounded out the letters on her own list as she wrote, her reading already confident.

“Dear Christmas Runner. Thank you for all your hard work, and for taking so many risks to deliver presents…”

Molly glanced over at Carena with a dash of awkward concern. They’d shared a schoolroom as children, and again for the last few years, and had some of the same frustrations, although Molly struggled more with maths and numbers and the purpose and point of algebra and geometry than writing and words. “Can I write both of ours, and you do the pictures? Your drawings are really good.”

Carena nodded, and got up abruptly to wash out the pot and make some tea. Outside, the town choir had drummed up enough numbers to give a few carols a go. She cracked open the window a little to let the sound filter up. 

“I would really like some bubblegum but I know it is hard to find and my mothers don’t like it so don’t worry if you can’t find any. I also like marbles and you can fit lots of them in a sock!”

“You’re already running out of space!”

“Okay. Lots of love from Sara Myers-Cohen-Yao, kiss kiss kiss! What are you going to ask for?”

“Nicer soap,” Molly said, quite serious. “And I need a new metal bucket for chicken feed and milking. Mine is close to holes.”

“A bucket won’t fit in a sock!” Sara scoffed with childish mirth. “That’s ridiculous!”

“I don’t know, she has really big feet.” This made Sara giggle even more, and slide off the chair to look at Molly’s feet more closely.

“Ha, ha, ha,” Molly gave Carena a mock-withering stare. “What do you want, Caz? I’m doing yours now.”

Carena thought as the water began to bubble. All she really wanted was to be a Runner. To explore. To get buckets and soap and marbles and gum and make faces back in the township light up. All she wanted was her lungs and airways to do as she commanded, her muscles and heart to work with her, to let her push past exhaustion. 

“Eh. Shoelaces would be nice.” She smirked at Molly. “Or some chicken fat.”

“Make one more threat to my chicken’s life, Carena Skeet and you won’t be getting anything from the Christmas Runner!” 

“I surrender, I surrender!” Carena laughed, and poured the tea. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be in bed by now, Sara? If we’re going to get this Runner to come at all.”

“But I’m not even tired,” the small girl yawned, still on the floor with her head on the chair and cuddling one of the throws her mothers had stacked on the sideboard. 

Molly grabbed the rest of them. “Come on, we’ll build a blanket den, have our tea in there, and Caz can tell you more about the Christmas Runner.”

“Startin’ to feel like Caz does all the work around here,” Carena added, stirring in milk and honey and using the puzzle box as a makeshift tea-tray. “Go on then, lead the way.”

Five minutes later, they’d constructed a large blanket fort and, huddled together inside it, Carena began to tell them everything she remembered from the world before, embellishing the odd detail or ten.

“You’re lying, there were no flying snowmen.”

“Well, I saw a film about them!”

Eventually, Sara curled up and fell asleep, thumb in her mouth, dreaming up a jumble of tinsel and angels and dancing snowmen and turkeys.

Molly smiled, sleepy herself. “You know, you’re actually really good with kids.”

“You’re actually good at lightenin’ up.”

“Yeah! This was fun. I had a really nice evening.”

“Molly…” Carena began, and stopped. She tucked Sara’s blankets around her a little tighter. She didn’t know how to say how safe she felt, maybe for the first time since she lost her brother, warm and wanted and hopeful, surrounded by the peace she wanted so badly to fight for. “I think tomorrow is gonna be a really good day.”

The bell in the square jangled once, twice, twelve times and for once they didn’t panic. It had been years since a horde went anywhere near the gates. This was midnight.

“Merry Christmas, Caz.”

“Merry Christmas.”

***

Carena awoke under a pile of blankets, her head on the end of Sara’s bed, the sound of Dr Cohen humming in the kitchen as she fried the eggs for breakfast, and caught three bulging stockings out of the corner of her eye. A lump came to her throat as she saw the book, as promised, bound in ribbon, that she recognised even without reading the words.

The Abel Runner’s Handbook, fourth ed.

She nearly knocked the wind out of the doctors in her rush to hug them.

[kumeko]

Title: airships

A/N: For the @bnha-steampunk zine! I think I got a better handle of descriptions in this one. :)

…

…

…

…

It wasn’t a typical morning without the steady thud of a hammer or Nejire’s quiet swears. Well, as quiet as Nejire could be, that is. This morning, Mirio was doubly lucky and woke up to both. Lying groggy on what could just barely be counted as a hammock, he stared at the bumpy ceiling as he listened to another thud followed by a swear. He’d say the walls were thin, but a better word was nonexistent. If he were honest, the fault lied more with him and Nejire; Tamaki was so quiet that sometimes Mirio forgot he was there.

 This was a case of getting exactly what they paid for. It was one thing to move in with his two best friends, another thing to pick the cheapest apartment they could afford. Rolling off his ‘bed’, Mirio automatically lumbered over to the window, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight. Grabbing his toothbrush along the way, he started to brush as he peeked out the window, to his adopted town of Musutafu.

 As usual, overhead, hot air balloons slowly drifted with the wind and dirigibles cast large shadows on the ground.  Just down the street, the sun glinted brightly off the gears of the town’s main clock. Like tombstones, the houses jutted out of a rising hill, matching one another neither in size nor colour. Tall chimneys poked out of roofs, smoke wafting to the sky. In the night, gas lamps would light the streets. Somehow, he never got bored of this sight. Musutafu was a floating city, just barely tethered to the earth, but he could barely tear his eyes away from city proper to look at the ground far below. There was always something going on.

Another clang sounded off behind him. Wryly, he glanced over his shoulder. Mirio didn’t have to look at the city to find something to do, there was always something going on in here too. Hopefully, the landlord didn’t hear it this time. Strolling over to the tiny bathroom, he quickly rinsed and washed his face. The splash of cold water woke him up entirely, ready to face whatever was waiting for him outside.

 Sucking her thumb, Nejire looked up at him as he entered the second room of their two-room apartment. Seated on the hardwood floor, she sat next to mass of gears, hammers, and strange pieces of metal. Maybe it was a good thing they didn’t have any furniture aside from a set of mismatched chairs and a wobbly table; Mirio wouldn’t have room to walk otherwise. As it was, he had to be careful to step around her long skirt that pooled around her. “Hey, hey, you’re awake!”

 “A little hard to sleep through all that noise,” Mirio replied dryly, turning from her to where Tamaki sat. A pair of goggles rested over his eyes as he worked on a long telescope. His nimble fingers twisted and turned gear, adjusting the precision of the instrument. Well, that explained why Nejire was taking apart things. “New creation?”

 Tamaki nodded, a soft smile on his face. “It’d be nice to see the ships coming in at night.” As usual, it took only two seconds for worries to enter his mind and he mumbled, “If it works. If you want to see it.”

 “Of course I do!” Mirio chirped, already on damage control. He crouched down to tap on the telescope, and a muted hallow clang sounded off inside the chamber. “And when have you made something that didn’t work?”

 “I…” Tamaki still looked doubtful, his hands anxiously playing with the instrument.

 “Hey, hey, you’re amazing.” Nejire beamed brightly. She stood up, dropping all the screws and gears from her lap. Gesturing at the mess around her, she added, “You made a telescope using toasters! And that weird toy I found!”

 “I can’t believe you recombined them all!” Mirio praised. His eyes widened as he processed what Nejire said and he whipped his head to the pile of scrap on the ground.  “That’s not our toaster, is it?”

 Nejire laughed. “Nope. I went around collecting junk while you were sleeping, bed head!”

 He flushed a bright red and quickly patted down his hair. Not that it’d help much, his hair always seemed to have a mind of its own that a brush could only barely control. He glanced at Nejire’s wild curls. “Your hair isn’t any better!”

 “It is!” Nejire flounced forward, flipping her hair off her shoulder. “It’s called style!”

 Mirio was certain that wasn’t how style worked, but it was impossible to break Nejire’s confidence. He glanced at Tamaki for help, but he looked away skittishly. “I don’t know anything about that,” Tamaki muttered, nervously fiddling with the telescope.

 “That’s alright.” Nejire skipped over to Tamaki and ran her hands through his messy locks. His ears burned a bright red, still unused to the attention. Leaning back, she beamed brightly. “You look great like this.”

 “And I don’t?” Mirio retorted, unable to stop himself.

 “I never said that,” Nejire leered, giving him a wink. Her dress flared around as she spun to face him, revealing her practical trousers underneath. “But that’s still bed head.”

 He wasn’t sure if he should take it as a compliment or an insult.  Knowing her, it was probably both. “Fine, fine.” It was easier just to stop the argument.

 A large, dark shadow flew overhead, blocking the sun from the window, and Nejire perked up. “Hey, hey, that’s huge!” She ran to the balcony, leaning hard against it as she tried to catch sight of the low-flying airship. “What’s that flag?”

 “What flag?” Mirio asked, following after her. Looking up, he saw a giant dirigible pass by, its belly low enough to almost skim the rooftops. He was surprised no one had come to stop such dangerous flying. His eyes slid up the canvas sides to the flag fluttering gently off the top, the image of an ever-burning torch. That explained it. The number two pirate-hunter in the city. “I think that’s Endeavor’s flag.”

 “Ohh, I heard he’s a prick to work for,” Nejire sighed, leaning out even further off the railing. She craned her neck trying to catch sight of other airships as they passed to and from the city. “Like a real tough boss. He threatens to toss over anyone who doesn’t listen and he’s constantly breaking things.”

 Tamaki stepped out now, keeping a safe distance from the railing. Tugging on the straps of his goggles nervously, he looked nervously at Nejire. “You’re out too far.”

 “What do you mean?” Nejire asked, by now leaning so far out her toes were skimming the ground. She looked back, cocking her head, and while her grip on the railing looked strong, it felt like she was about to fall at any minute. She seemed part acrobat sometimes, with no concept of gravity, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying to watch her.

 Tamaki squeaked and Mirio quickly loped an arm around her waist, pulling her back to safety. “Try to keep your feet on the ground,” he admonished with a tired shake of his head.

 “Thanks.” Nejire grinned before looking back at the airships. The wind blew through her hair and she pulled out a ribbon to tie back her loose curls. “Hey, hey, think we’ll get one?”

 “An airship?” Mirio stared at the large commercial blimps, carrying passengers from city to city. The smaller zepplins that were used on an almost hourly basis to ferry citizens from one side of floating city to the next. The medium sized ships used by police and criminal alike. They were the only ticket out of this city, the only way to discover more of the world. He raised a hand as a ship flew by and grabbed the empty air.

 He had spent years dreaming, fantasizing about having his own ship. Unfortunately, they were worth far more than the kind of money made doing odd jobs, scraping junk, or cleaning chimneys. Even the hot-air balloons would cost more money than they could save.

 “They’re too expensive,” Tamaki sighed gloomily, his back hunched as he peeked out at the sky from behind them. “It’s not happening.”

 “What if we built it!” Nejire suggested eagerly, twirling around to gesture at the forgotten telescope. “You made that!”

 Tamaki’s mouth fell open. “Do you know how long that’d take? And how much stuff we’d need?” He shook his head, his hands tugging on the straps of his goggles as he ducked his head. His skin grew pale as he considered the possibilities. “And I’d have to keep you safe and what if I did something wrong?”

 “You wouldn’t,” Mirio replied confidentially, patting Tamaki’s back gently. “But we’ll keep that as plan B, okay?”

 He looked a little better, the colour returning to his face. “Plan D.”

 “Plan D,” he confirmed.

 “Fine.” Nejire frowned, tilting left and right as she thought about another method. “Hey, hey, we could rob a bank.” She glared down at the fancily dressed people walking below, her eyes narrowing at a particularly rich couple. “Their bank.”

 “A bank?” Tamaki looked even more appalled.

 “Yeah, maybe not. That’s plan Z.” Mirio chuckled. He was never certain of how serious Nejire was when she said that. Glancing up one more time, he scanned the skies for a familiar flag of an overly smiling buff man. Nothing caught his eye; it seemed All Might hadn’t arrived yet. Clearing his throat, Mirio said, “Sir offered us a job.”

 Nejire and Tamaki snapped their heads toward him, their jaws slack. The first to recover, Nejire asked, “Sir did? I thought All Might said we’re too young.”

 “Yeah, but Sir convinced him to give us a chance.” Mirio nodded, grinning brightly. This was the first step to their dream and finally it felt like it was within reach, just at his fingertips.

 “It’s going to be dangerous.” Tamaki blanched, stepping back. He had always preferred to keep his feet on the ground. “I’ll sit this one out.”

 “Hey, hey, we’re the three musketeers.” She loped an arm around his back, keeping him close. “We all go! I’ll protect you.”

 “I’ll protect you too! And it’ll pay good,” Mirio added, hoping to convince him. “Maybe we can buy our own ship then, or even take over Sir’s.”

 Nejire clapped her hands, excitement shining in her eyes. “We could be pirates!”

 “Sir’s a cop,” Tamaki replied dryly.

 “A pirate cop,” she corrected. Grabbing his hands, she cocked her head. “Come on, it’s more fun with you.” She gave the widest, most pleading eyes possible and stuck out her bottom lip in a wobbly pout.

 It was no surprise what happened next. Tamaki had always been weak to puppy eyes. “F-fine,” he muttered, cheeks red as he averted his gaze. “I’ll go.”

 “Great!” Mirio bounced eagerly on his toes. Working in the high skies with his two best friends, All Might, and Sir? There was nothing that could top this.

 Aside from owning his own airship, of course.

 A loud gong broke him out of hit thoughts. The antique clock tower down the street chimed the hour. One. Two. Mirio counted the gongs silently. Five. Nine. The clock stopped. It was nine the morning. His eyes widened.

 It was nine in the morning. He was supposed to be at the docks right now, helping ships unload their cargo. Nejire chuckled. “Hey, hey, aren’t you gonna be late?”

 “Maybe if you run?” Tamaki suggested, weakly.

 Mirio didn’t bother to respond, already bolting out the front door. Well, it was a good thing Sir offered the job. He wasn’t sure how much longer he had his current one.

[mamabearcat]

All Fired Up Ch 7

Double the size of my usual chapters for this fic - an early gift for Nalu week. Hope you enjoy it. And if you’d prefer, here’s the link to fanfiction.net

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5 , Ch 6

“Okay, so spill. What’s going on between you and Natsu?”

 Lucy made an indistinct noise, nearly snorting her strawberry milkshake out her nose. Wendy had dragged her to the mall this morning on the pretext of ‘girl time’ and so far, it had been great. First stop had been to ‘Polish Me Pretty’ for mani pedi’s, then they’d had fun looking around a Japanese dollar store, both leaving with a bag full of cute and kitschy things they hadn’t known they needed until they saw them. They were now taking a break from shopping at a café, and Lucy was feeling relaxed and happy. Wendy’s question had caught her totally unprepared.

 Lucy gulped down the mouthful of milkshake threatening to choke her and licked her lips, placing the metal container down on the table next to her half-eaten donut. “Uh, what do you mean Wendy? We’re the same as always.”

 Wendy rolled her eyes, noisily slurping her chocolate milkshake through the straw. “Yeah, sure you are. You’ve been dancing around each other for the past two days. Natsu blushed when you handed him his coffee this morning.” Her eyes sparkled and the corners of her lips curled up in a knowing grin. “It’s so obvious. You like each other, don’t you? Are you gonna go out with him?”

 Lucy’s eyes widened. What should she say? “Um… we do like each other, but…”

 Wendy squealed excitedly, bouncing a little in her seat across from Lucy, her long blue pigtails bouncing with her. A few café patrons glanced at them curiously as Lucy frantically waved her hand and shushed her. “Wendy! Calm down! This is embarrassing!” Wendy giggled behind her hand at Lucy’s frantic expression.

 “I’m sorry”, she grinned, “but I’m just so happy for you both!” She planted her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “So, are you going out on a date?”

 Lucy smiled back, nodding shyly, twirling the straw of her milkshake absentmindedly between her fingers as she took another sip. “Yes, Natsu’s asked me, but we haven’t decided when or where yet.” She snorted. “Hopefully it won’t be anywhere too fancy, it’s not like I’ve got a wide variety of clothes to choose from at the moment.” She glanced down at the pale pink yoga pants and loose t-shirt she was wearing. She’d bought a few more outfits online as she’d been paid, but she’d aimed for comfort rather than style as her injuries healed.

 Wendy clapped her hands together, a look of determination on her face. “Alright! We’re in just the right place! Let’s go shopping and buy you a date outfit Lucy! My treat!”

 Lucy spluttered. “Wendy! I couldn’t possibly let you buy me an outfit!”

 “Sure you can”, announced Wendy airily. “And it’s not like I’m giving you a choice anyway.” She grinned again. “You two are good for each other Lucy. I can’t think of anyone that Natsu’s been so blatantly head over heels for, ever. And if little cuz Wendy can help smooth the path of true love with a bit of clothes shopping, who are you to stop me?” She looked down at Lucy’s plate. “You better eat that up – the way I shop, you’re gonna need the energy!” she teased.

 ________________________________________________________________

 Lucy frowned as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She’d didn’t consider herself a vain person. She had always liked clothes, and had taken pride in her appearance, but her self-esteem had never really depended on how she looked. Or so she had thought. But now she was second guessing the outfit that she and Wendy had so much fun picking out together.

 The floral skater skirt she’d fallen in love with on sight and Wendy had bought as part of her ‘date outfit’ was a perfect fit, the soft fabric falling to mid-thigh in flattering folds against her slim legs. She still loved the skirt, but that wasn’t the problem. She looked below the hem of the skirt at the mostly healed burn scars on the front of her thighs. Her pale skin had always scarred easily – she had a weird shape on one thumb where a pelican had bit her when she was a toddler, and a star shaped pattern on her knee where she’d come off her bike. But these scars – these would take some getting used to. They were obvious against her lightly tanned skin, the mixture of pale and darker pink looking even more vivid than usual, lit by the afternoon sunshine streaming in her bedroom window. She tugged at the hem of her skirt. Maybe she should have bought over the knee socks to wear with it. But that would still have left scars uncovered. And it wasn’t like Natsu didn’t know her legs were scarred, but… She chewed her thumb nail, unsure about her reflection.

 Her shirt was white and sleeveless, with a cute peter pan collar. The skin coloured pressure sleeves on her arms were ugly, but she planned to hide them under a light cardigan, so that wasn’t really a problem. Her blonde hair was caught back in a loose braid with a few soft pieces around her face, and she’d kept her makeup simple and natural looking. She looked at her legs again. She really had wanted to look nice when she went out with Natsu and had picked this skirt for their date because it was so different to the loose unisex outfits that he’d seen her in since leaving the hospital.

 “Hey Lucy?” Wendy’s voice filtered through her closed bedroom door. “Natsu just messaged me – he said he was running a little late, but he got changed at work and will be home in ten.”

 “Okay, thanks Wendy.” Lucy sighed. No time to change now. She sat down on her bed to pull on her tan suede ankle boots. She would really have to pay Wendy back. The younger girl had got so excited buying her an outfit that Lucy hadn’t had the heart to tell her to stop, but shoes as well as the clothes was really too much. She stroked the soft suede, trying to calm the nervous butterflies somersaulting in her stomach. Natsu hadn’t really even told her what he had planned. Just that he wanted to take her out on Friday evening after he got home from work. She pulled on the baby blue cardigan with small heart shaped buttons, also soft to touch. It was still Summer, but the evenings were starting to get chilly.

 She heard a soft knock on her door. “Lucy, can I come in?”

 “Sure Wendy,” she said, adding her wallet, tissues, keys and lip gloss to the small satchel style leather handbag that she’d bought online.

 Wendy’s head poked around the door, her long blue hair shimmering as the sunlight hit it. “Ooh, Lucy, you look lovely!” she exclaimed, stepping into the room. She made a circling movement with her forefinger, and Lucy obediently twirled for her, tugging her skirt downwards as she did so. Wendy gave her an encouraging smile.

 “Lucy, the scars will fade”, she said gently. “You’re beautiful. And it’s not like Natsu’s not covered in scars either you know.”

 Lucy’s eyes widened. “He is?”

 Wendy snorted. “Guess you’re not up to that part of the relationship yet huh?” she sniggered. “He got them in a house fire when he was younger – tried to climb through a broken window that was too small and cut up his side really badly on the glass. Sliced his neck too. He had so many stitches – I tried to count them while he was in hospital, but I was only four – I couldn’t count high enough.” They both turned at the sound of a key in a lock as the front door opened, and Wendy smiled again. “Speak of the devil!”

 Lucy took one deep breath, then walked out into the lounge room where Natsu had just sat down on the sofa to wait for her. He looked like a nervous wreck; his unkempt pink hair even messier than usual as he ran his fingers through his fringe. He’d dressed nicely, wearing his ‘good’ jeans and leather boots, and a slim fitting black polo shirt that she hadn’t seen before that accentuated his muscular frame. He jumped to his feet as soon as he saw her.

 “Lucy, I’m so sorry I’m late, I left my wallet at the station when I got changed and I had to go back and…”

 Lucy smiled at him, feeling most of the butterflies that had been teasing her stomach settle one by one. It helped that he was nervous too, that he understood the weight of this step they were taking together. She giggled.

 “Natsu, you’re babbling.” Lucy reached out her hand and squeezed his fingers. “It’s just me, remember?” She tugged on his hand and he chuckled.

 “Yeah, I know. I’ve just never been great at this date stuff. But I put a lot of thought into this and I really want you to have a good time tonight Lucy.” He took in her outfit appreciatively. “You look gorgeous, by the way”. The last of Lucy’s butterflies took flight, leaving only excitement behind.

 “Thank you Natsu. You look good too. And of course I’ll have a good time, silly. I’m with you.” Lucy beamed at him, giggling at the pink dusting his cheeks. They both did their best to ignore Wendy cooing in delight at their mutual compliments in the background.

 “Have fun you two!” she teased. “Don’t stay out too late, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

 Natsu mock glared at Wendy and took a deep breath. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road Lucy. I hope you’re feelin’ hungry!”

 ________________________________________________________________

 Natsu parked his little Datsun near the town centre and they strolled down the main street, hand in hand, the sunset dusting everything with a rosy glow. Long shadows tilted in front of them, making giants out of everyday objects. Natsu squeezed Lucy’s hand as they rounded the corner, and Lucy squeezed back and smiled, relishing the warmth of Natsu’s palm against hers. His hands were always warm.

 “I read lots of reviews, and this place is meant to make the best spicy hot pot in Magnolia”, said Natsu excitedly, licking his lips. “I’ve been wanting to try out this place for ages, and this seemed like the perfect night. I can’t wait!” He gestured proudly with his hand to a Sichuan Chinese restaurant called Rising Embers, the windows painted with stylized red dragons.

 “Um, Natsu? It’s closed.”

 Natsu turned, glancing at the doorway in confusion. “But it can’t be! I called and made a booking this morning!” He let go of Lucy’s hand, cupping his hands around his face so he could peer through the window into the darkened interior.

 Lucy pointed at a note stuck to the inside of the door with sticky tape, written in both Chinese hanzi and English. “It says closed due to a family emergency. I hope everyone’s okay.” She turned to take in the disappointment on Natsu’s face and grabbed his hand and squeezed gently. “Don’t worry Natsu, it doesn’t matter if we can’t go tonight. We’ll just come back some other time, okay?”

 Natsu sighed, seemingly mollified by her reassurance that they could come back. “Okay. I just really wanted to take you somewhere special the first time we went out on a date.” He interlaced their fingers and raised their joined hands to his lips, kissing Lucy’s knuckles gently. “I like holding your hand, by the way”, he said softly, rubbing his thumb on her wrist.

 Lucy smiled at him. Already her jaw was starting to ache from smiling so much in one evening. Was she that out of practice? “I like it too, Natsu.”

 Natsu grinned, tugging on her hand. “C’mon Luce, we’ve still got two hours before we need to be somewhere else. Let’s find another place to eat. I’m starving!” He yanked her forward and she giggled as he pulled her back up the street in the direction they’d just come.

 It looked like most of Magnolia had the same idea to eat out that evening. They walked along the main road, but nearly every restaurant looked full to bursting.

 “What about here?” asked Lucy, pointing to the pub on the corner. It also looked to be busy, but there were some empty tables in the beer garden at the side. Fairy lights twinkled in the trees and under the yellow and white striped umbrellas shading the wooden picnic tables, and people chatted animatedly, drinking beer and eating chips and burgers.

 Natsu rolled his eyes. “Give me some credit Luce. It’s our first date. I want to take you somewhere nice to eat.” But as the minutes ticked away, and every restaurant had a wait time of another hour, they ended up standing in front of the pub again. Natsu grumbled under his breath.

 Lucy looked at the brick building. It seemed like any other pub she’d ever seen, smelling faintly of stale beer, with blackboards advertising upcoming live bands and a weekly trivia night. The name was cute too, ‘Three of Cups’; Lucy recognised it as a minor arcana tarot card. Natsu still looked reluctant.

 “Is there something about this place you’re not telling me Natsu?”

 Natsu sighed, running his fingers through his already messy fringe exasperatedly as they walked in the door past the front bar and out into the beer garden. “There’s nothing wrong with it exactly, it’s just owned by someone I went to university with. She’s a good friend, but sometimes she can come on a little…”

 “Heeeey, Natsuuuuuu!”

 A tall woman with brown wavy hair and a wide smile waved at them, easily transferring the empty glasses she was collecting to a tray balanced on one curvy jean covered hip.

 Natsu huffed out a sigh but smiled as he turned to face the woman with a wave. “Hey Cana, it’s good to see you.”

 Cana grinned at him, putting the tray with glasses down on an empty table and leaning forward to give him a swift hug, the tight black cropped t-shirt she wore leaving little to the imagination regarding her curvy figure. “Don’t lie, hotshot, we both know you’re terrible at it.” She winked, looking Lucy up and down. “You do realise you’re punching above your weight with this one Natsu.”

 Natsu made a warning noise in the back of his throat. “Cana!” he growled. “Settle down, okay? This is Lucy. Lucy, this my friend Cana – we met at university, and she’s hung around like a bad smell ever since.”

 Cana rolled her eyes at him and held her hand out to shake Lucy’s. “Nice to meetcha Lucy!” She lowered her voice a little and grinned at her mischievously. “If things don’t work out tonight with this dork, stop by the bar and get my number.”

 Lucy flushed as she shook Cana’s hand, not quite sure what to say. “Oh, um, thank you, I’m flattered, but um…”

 Cana grinned, ignoring Natsu’s sputtering in the background. “Never mind, I gotcha. Always worth a try, ya know. So are you guys thinking about eating here? First drinks are on me tonight Natsu, friend discount.”

 Natsu nodded, and Cana grinned. “Okay, sit wherever. You can order at the bar when you’re ready to eat. Natsu knows what’s good on the menu, he’s a regular.”

 Lucy and Natsu sat down facing each other on the bench seating, the fairy lights overhead twinkling merrily under the yellow and white striped umbrellas. Natsu coughed apologetically, reaching out for her hand across the wooden picnic table.

 “So, uh, that was Cana.”

 Lucy smiled. “So I gathered. She seems nice.” Natsu snorted but nodded.

 “I dunno if nice is the word I’d use, but she’s definitely a good friend. Gray and I come here a lot for lunch.” He rattled off the menu to her, and after she’d made her choice he went off to the bar to order, returning with a beer for each of them and the restaurant pager that would indicate when their food was ready.

 Ten minutes later when the pager began beeping, Natsu disappeared again, returning with Lucy’s chicken skewers and his own gigantic beef burger with a bowl of wedges to share. Lucy tucked in. She was really hungry, and the garlic and lemon flavoured chicken was delicious. Natsu was also hungry, judging by the way he launched himself into eating the burger on his plate. A movement next to Lucy’s shoulder made her look up.

 “Everything okay? Is the food good?” asked Cana as she paused near them with a tray crowded with empty glasses.

 “It’s really delicious, thank you”, replied Lucy with a smile. Natsu, whose mouth was clearly too full to make any sort of coherent comment, just gave her a thumbs up.

 “Okay, glad to hear it!” grinned Cana, disappearing with her tray. But as they ate their meal, she kept reappearing, watching them with a knowing grin. Natsu was clearly getting more irritated by the second as she loitered near them to pick up glasses. Again.

 “Are you nearly finished eating Lucy?” he grumped, as Cana sashayed past them with her tray, giving Natsu a meaningful wink.

 Lucy leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Natsu, it’s okay, really. She’s obviously just teasing you, trying to get a rise out of you. Just ignore it.”

 “Well, it’s working dammit”, he growled. He’d finished his burger and Lucy was three quarters of the way through her meal. “How about we get out of here, and I buy you ice-cream instead? There’s a place near where we’re goin’ next.”

 Lucy nodded. “That sounds good!” They each snagged a handful of wedges to eat on the way and got up to leave, Natsu glowering over his shoulder at a grinning Cana.

 “Nice to meet ya Lucy! See ya later Natsu!” called out Cana.

 “Not if I see you first”, muttered Natsu. Lucy bumped his hip playfully with hers.

 “Come on, cheer up! The food was really good! I’d like to go here again.” Natsu raised an eyebrow at her. “Okay, it possibly wasn’t the romantic atmosphere you wanted during dinner, but I’m enjoying myself Natsu, really.”

 Natsu’s usual cheerful grin returned. “Okay.”

 He took her hand again, and they walked down towards the canal, where there was a man selling ice-cream from a small pink refrigerated food vendor’s cart on wheels. Lucy got a single strawberry cone with a drizzle of cherry syrup, and Natsu ordered a double cone with butterscotch pecan and vanilla. They dawdled slowly across the bridge, licking their ice-creams, and enjoying the balmy twilight, smiling at each other.

 “Look out!” yelled a voice behind them. A courier riding a bicycle zoomed close by, knocking Lucy off balance as she shifted quickly to get out of the way. Natsu’s arm wrapped around her waist before she could fall, pulling her tightly against him. She dropped her ice-cream with a cry of surprise, watching it land with a splat on the ground in front of her, just missing her new suede boots. Natsu’s elbow jostled against the edge of the stone bridge, and the scoops of ice-cream dropped into the canal, leaving him holding an empty cone.  

 “Watch where you’re goin’ you ass wipe!” hollered Natsu at the retreating back of the cyclist, who had already made it across the bridge. His distant cry of ‘sorry’ floated back on the breeze towards them but did nothing to improve Natsu’s temper.

 “Are you okay Lucy?” he asked gruffly, glancing in disgust at the empty ice-cream cone still clutched in his fist, then tossing it over the side of the bridge to join the rest of it in the water below. She nodded.

 “I’m sorry Lucy. Like I told you earlier, I’m not real good at planning dates”, he sighed. His expression was so despondent that she couldn’t help hugging him tightly.

 “Natsu, this is all just unlucky! It wasn’t your fault that the first restaurant was closed. The pub would have been amazing if Cana hadn’t been trying to tease you! And my ice-cream was really good! Please don’t be down about this, okay?” Natsu hugged her back, then picked her up, twirling her around. He finally listened to her squeals to put her down, but refused to relinquish his hold on her, kissing her on top of her head.

 “Why are you so nice Lucy? Any sane person would have given up on this date by now! Hopefully this last thing will make it up to you – I know you’ll love this!” He glanced at his phone to check the time. “Crap, we gotta move or we’ll miss the beginning!”

 He grabbed Lucy’s hand and tugged her along, until they ended up outside an old movie theatre. The exterior architecture reminded Lucy of photos she’d seen of 1920’s buildings.

 “This place shows older movies, and it looks really cool inside too, all red velvet curtains and cushy seats. They even have people dressed up in old time usher costumes who show you to your seats and sell popcorn. I checked their website yesterday and they’ve got a Jane Austen movie festival running – they’re playing ‘Sense and Sensibility’ tonight, which I happen to know is one of your favourites, because I heard you tell Wendy!”

 Lucy grinned at him, squeezing his arm. “Oh wow Natsu, I haven’t seen that movie in ages! Thank you so much!”

 Natsu walked over to the small ticket booth, manned by a bored looking woman with dark hair. “Two tickets to Sense and Sensibility please”, he said cheerfully.

 “Sorry love, no can do. That’s on next month during our Jane Austen festival. It’s ‘Screamers’ showing tonight – we’re doing a 90’s space theme this week.”

 “You’re joking”, said Natsu, pulling back. “Please, tell me you’re joking. I looked it up yesterday – your website said it was on this evening!”

 “Yeah, sorry about that. There was a mix up and the wrong dates were entered. Did you want tickets or not?”

 Natsu looked at her, speechless. He turned to Lucy, who had her back to him, her shoulders shaking. Natsu tentatively put his hand on her shoulder. “Lucy, please don’t be upset. We’ll come back and see it when it’s on, okay? I promise, I’ll make it up to you. Please don’t cry!”

 Lucy turned around. There were indeed tears in her eyes, but that was because she was struggling not to laugh. Finally she gave up and let loose, laughing louder than Natsu had ever heard her. She threw her arms around his neck, still giggling. Natsu gazed at her, unsure of what to do.

 “I’m sorry to laugh”, she giggled, “really Natsu, but it’s just so ridiculous! And you tried so hard!” She stood up on tiptoe and kissed him gently on the lips. “Let’s go buy a hot chocolate and talk under the stars. What do you say?”

 Natsu was momentarily stunned after her kiss, but then smiled, dropping his forehead to hers. “Whatever you say milady”, he grinned, returning her kiss with one of his own.

________________________________________________________________

 Lucy was still giggling as they finally sat down under a tree in the park, Natsu leaning back against the trunk, with Lucy sitting between his legs, her back against his chest. Natsu rested his chin on top of her head, reaching around to tap her on the nose as she handed him his takeaway hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.

 “You can stop laughing now, you know. It’s not that funny”, he grumbled as he sipped his hot chocolate, trying not to smile.

 “Oh, but it is”, she sniggered. “Do you know Natsu, you couldn’t have planned a better first date if you’d tried. Do you know why?”

 “All right, I’ll take the bait. Why Lucy?”

 “Because”, she giggled, “I’m never going to forget this date, not in a million years.” She cupped her hands around her hot chocolate, taking careful sips of the hot liquid.

 “Yeah”, sighed Natsu. “That’s pretty true. I’d rather that it was because I’d got everything right though.” Hearing the wistful tone in his voice, Lucy put down her hot chocolate, and turned so she was kneeling in front of him.

 “But you did get everything right Natsu!” she exclaimed, stroking his cheek. “Every single thing you picked to do, was something you chose because you believed I would enjoy it, that we’d enjoy doing it together. And that makes you the most thoughtful person I’ve ever gone on a date with.”

 Natsu snorted. “The other guys you’ve been out with must have been total bastards then. Why wouldn’t I want to choose things that you’d want to do?” He shifted slightly, pulling on her shoulder gently. “Here, if you’re gonna turn around this way, scoot sideways and sit on me. I don’t want you to scrape the skin on your legs, not when it’s just getting better.”

 Lucy moved to sit on Natsu’s thigh. “Why are you so kind to me Natsu?” she asked seriously.

 “I can’t help it”, he grinned.

 “No, I mean it.”

 “So do I”, he said, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “There’s just somethin’ about you Luce. It’s like I need to help you find your smile, and when you smile at me, it’s the best thing ever.”

 Lucy looped her arms around his neck. “You do help me smile Natsu. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

 “That’s good to know”, he said huskily, moving his forefinger down to her chin and tilting her head back. His green eyes examined hers carefully, pausing, the tension between them winding so taut that Lucy was sure it would snap, and then he closed his eyes and bent down to meet his lips with hers.

 The first press of his lips was gentle, exploratory as he learned the shape of hers, the curve and texture. They were petal soft, moving gently against his own. “Lucy,” he murmured, his hand moving to cradle the back of her head. He stroked his tongue over her plump bottom lip, tasting cherry lip gloss and hot chocolate, a delicious combination. Eager to taste more, Natsu licked and then sucked her lip between his teeth. She gave a needy whimper, and he slipped his tongue swiftly into her mouth to explore and learn all he could. Her tongue was silky and slid against his, and he groaned. Her hands had thoroughly messed his hair, and his had made their way downwards, resting on her hips. Breaking from her lips, he placed small heated kisses in the hollow of her throat as Lucy sighed his name, her fingers still twisting in his tangled hair.  

 A throat clearing behind them had Lucy squeaking, hiding her head in Natsu’s neck, and his shooting upwards with a glare.

 “Sorry to break this up kids, but the park is now officially closed, and you’re trespassing. You’re gonna have to take this somewhere else.” At least the park ranger had the decency to shine the torch to one side, rather than shine it directly in his eyes. Natsu’s head tipped backward onto the tree trunk with a dull thud.

 “That’s it. I’m officially done with today Luce. Let’s go home.”

 The park ranger waited until they’d picked up their mostly empty cups and walked through the park gate, then shut and locked it behind them with a clang. Lucy was still feeling embarrassed, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth as they walked back towards Natsu’s car. She peeked at Natsu out of the corner of her eye. He was striding along with his eyes down, hands thrust in his jean pockets.

 “I’m sorry”, she said hesitantly.

 Natsu looked at her incredulously. “What on earth have you got to apologise for Lucy?”

 “Well, the park was my idea”, she answered softly. “I didn’t realise that they would close it when it got to a certain time.” She curled her fingers around his bicep. “And I was having a pretty good time until we were, um, interrupted.” She cleared her throat. “Natsu, when you said you were done with today, that didn’t mean that you were done with, um, the idea of us…”

 Natsu leaned down and kissed her swiftly. “That answer your question Lucy?” He took his hand out of his pocket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Please say you’ll give me another chance at this”, he chuckled. “I know I can do better.”

 Lucy wrapped her arm around his waist as they continued walking back to his car. “Of course I will Natsu. But can I make a suggestion?”

 “Anythin’ Luce.”

 “Maybe next date we can send Wendy out, and order in. That way there’ll be less chance of things going wrong, or any interruptions.” Natsu leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

 “Great plan Luce. Tomorrow good for you?”

 Lucy sighed happily. “Tomorrow sounds awesome.”

________________________________________________________________

 This, believe it or not, is based roughly on my very first date with my husband. We’d been best friends for about three years before we started going out, but he was very determined to take me on a ‘proper date’. He lost his wallet and was running late; the French restaurant was booked out for a private function and the dinky Chinese restaurant we ended up at was where his female flatmate worked. She teased us the whole time we were there but did give us free soft drink. Then when we got to the movies, Sense and Sensibility wasn’t playing as advertised, but Screamers was. Unlike Natsu and Lucy, we stayed to watch it. It was hilariously bad. Then we got sprung making out in the hallway at university. It was an unforgettable night and makes me think of him lovingly every time I remember it.

[whnvr]

Brain Drain

Ah yes, hello. It is once again time to drain these brains of mine. A couple of more thoughts on this ‘Morning Pages’ process. Firstly, I’ve decided to take the Artist’s Way wording to heart and think of this as a non-negotiable exercise and, at least for the time being, I am going to do the full 1500 words as a block before I move onto anything else in my day. I’m still going to take the approach of retroactively editing them before I sleep in order to be more formatted, but the main body of text will be done first as, based on yesterday, I think this will focus me far more than spreading the writing out. Secondly, the more I think about it the more experimental I realise this entire process is for me. It’s probably best thought of as a heavily modified and specified version of the ‘Artist’s Way’ approach, as one of the stipulations offered up by Julia Cameron is that these are to be for your eyes and your eyes alone - even then going so far as to suggest that these should be sealed away in an envelope so that even the practitioner does not read them. So in that sense I am both taking a more documentative, methodical approach to the process and I am altering the formula by hosting these in a public forum. I understand that privacy helps to remove any filtering one may do but I also believe that the potential for these to be read comes with its own benefits. To that end this feels like an experiment of being creatively candid in public which is simulatenously exciting and daunting given that it runs so counter to the common approach of creating behind closed doors. I’d love to explore these ideas further as this journal progresses and see how my relationship with creativity changes due to these factors. So, I guess I’ll start by taking the measure of my day, as I am very much enjoying the ‘touching base’ element of these Morning Pages. I definitely feel a lot more blocked than I did yesterday, and it seems as though there’s somewhat of a hump to get over when I do these within the first 500 words or so before I get into a state of flow with it - this was true of yesterday also. Maybe that is one of the possible benefits of this exercise, that 'ramping-up-to-flow’ stage is one I likely experience whenever I sit down to create and the Brain Drain may be a way of me overcoming that before I come to do any of the actual creative work of my day. It seems as though forcing myself to do all 1500 words yesterday put me into the same sort of flow-state I gain from working on a really successful piece of music, and then today I am once again reset back into that familiar place of being 'blocked’, which even now I am slowly working through and unpicking purely by writing these words. Looking back on previous creative work this would seem to make an awful lot of sense. How much more demotivating it is to have to wake up and untease the same blocked feeling each morning on projects that I care deeply about and am heavily invested in than it is to instead get that part of the process out of the way on an off the cuff exercise like Brain Drain each morning. Maybe attempting to ease such a block through the work we care about is where all feelings of 'I’ve lost it’ and 'this project is hard now. Therefore how much better it must be to work through those blocks in a format that we’re not quite so invested in. Even right now there is a part of me that is very much resisting this process. It is an anxiety that masks itself as restlessness and tells me to 'go and watch a film, Aaron. Why put yourself through something so hard?’. As it is the creative enemy I have decided to call this my personal Antagonizer. Other thoughts of the Antagonizer, or the 'me’ that feels uncomfortable and uncreative: - 'Go and make a milkshake Aaron. Don’t do this. It’s 30 degrees outside today. You really need to just cool down.’ - 'Get up and walk around. You really need to release some of this tension that you’re feeling.’ - 'Go and talk to a family member. Telling them about what you want to write would be much easier than simply writing it’. That’s right Antagonizer, I WILL use your criticism in order to help me hit this wordcount. Checkmate. Yesterday has taught me that past this feeling is where enjoyment and flow lie if I can only push through it. I imagine some days will be significantly harder than others, and I imagine that I will even have days where 1500 words won’t begin to scratch the surface of this block, but I would so much rather try to push through this block writing whatever comes to mind over-and-above pushing through this block attempting to create whatever passes for a masterpiece in my world. On to next steps then. I would like to select a new artist to listen to today as I get on with other work. This would also be a good opportunity to show off a little of how I organise my inspiration, despite how embarrassingly over-elaborate it is.

On Spotify I keep a folder of artists who I’m either interest in, inspired by, are important pieces of musical history, examples of current artists who are doing what they do incredibly successfully, or artists that I feel would be generally useful to experience. For each artist, I will create a playlist, and in each playlist, I will save that artist’s entire discography chronologically. I will then slowly work my way through each of the artist’s discographies, deleting what I’ve listened to and categorising songs that jump out to me either in terms of whether I love, like, or dislike them, the emotional qualities that I want to emulate in my own music, or the technical qualities that stand out as exemplary within each song. This allows me to simultaneously build a picture of what my musical tastes are, keep an accurate record of my listening history, and create song palettes for different emotional qualities that I wish to put into my own work.

(Above: the technical qualities of music that I have categorised. This forms up a reference library that I can use to further refine these qualities when I’m working on my own music)Here are the criteria I use to define each of these categories. Idea: the concept behind a piece. Narrative: the story told. Lyrics: how ideas are expressed through words. Mood: the emotionality of a piece. Expression: how ideas are framed and delivered through the articulation of the music. Musicality: the use of harmony, rhythm, and theory to communicate those ideas. Rhythm: the measure, speed, flow, and cadence of a piece. Timbre: the overall texture, tone, and sonic palette of a piece. Structure: the flow of a piece over time. Mix: how the timbre has been arranged as an ensemble. Master: how the piece has been polished. Delivery: the title, artwork, context, presentation, and moving image that contain the piece.

(Above: the emotional qualities of music that I have categorised as a reference library for how artists that I look up to achieve specific emotional qualities in their work). These are decidedly more abstract and are generally more subject to the songs themselves that are being added. For reference, here’s the current list of artists who’s work I want to study, all at various stages of listened to, completed, or not listened to at all: - Labelle - Car Seat Headrest - Snail Mail - Japanese Breakfast - Let’s Eat Grandma - Soccer Mommy - LCD Soundsystem - Big Thief - Have a Nice Life - Beebadoobee - Animanaguchi - 100gecs - Courtney Barnett - Chromonicci - Owsey - Dark Cat - Valentine - SOPHIE - Kamasi Washington - Prince - Aurora - Massive Attack - Haywyre - Maths Time Joy - Counting Crows - Jack Strauber - Blossom Calderone - Goldfrapp - Janelle Monae - Meteorologist - Easyfun - Saint Lewis - Julian Gray - Jade Cicada - Blake Skowron - 92Elm - Maxime - Stereo Cube - Chuck Sutton - Gemi - Queen - Laxcity - Duumu - Oh Wonder - Galamatias - Umru - Underscores - Brockhampton - Fleece - i Monster - Deaton Chris Anthony - Amy Winehouse - The Beatles - Sumthin Sumthin - Radiohead - Flume - Knapsack - Dodie Here are the artists who’s discographies I have completed via this approach: - Sidney Gish - M.I.A - In Love With a Ghost - Bowie - Pink Floyd - Baird - Rudimental - Iglooghost - Madeon - Porter Robinson - 100gecs I use a similar system alongside this over on Pinterest for visual work in order to better inform my visual style and aesthetic sensibilities. Here is how I define my visual observation: Interior & Exterior, the space of dwelling.

Colour, of which idiosyncrasy and primary colours are a main focus.

Tone, subtler than colour. An intangible quality communicated by shifting hues and gradiated layers.

Mood, the way an image feels.

Looks, clothes, & apparel: personal artistic image and identity.

Desolation, a quality not currently present in my own work, but one that I often observe and love within other work, as well as in storytelling and other environments.

Layout, the way things are arranged in relation to one another within a space.

Idea, the concept behind a thing.

Texture, the tactile quality of visual elements.

Form, the shape and bounds of a thing.

Presentation, the context a thing is placed within.

Render, the quality imparted by computer generated imagery.

Type, how words are displayed.

Pattern, the use of repetition.

As you can see, how I define sound and visual art share a fairly common language between them. Anyway, I divert. I’m going to select SOPHIE as the next discography to tear through and I am also going to continue working through the UE4 Beginner learning path, though before either of these I have some university paperwork/admin stuff to finish so I’d best crack on with that. Toodles!

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 26)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25

Part 27: here

LEWIS POV

Why is Arthur afraid of him? The question sits at the forefront of his mind, occupying his thoughts. Was it all him or was there something more, someone else, involved like Vivi suggests?

What can Lewis do to help someone who obviously doesn’t what it?  At least, he’s pretty sure Arthur doesn’t want his help. Despite her instance, for Lewis to not jump to any hasty conclusion, he is definitely partly responsible for Arthur running off without them. If he’s not the cause of Arthur’s initial fear, then he is surely at fault for driving a wedge between them with his less than stela reaction to Arthur’s panic attack. The echo of anger, at himself and the situation, is distant but ever-present.  Lewis quickly shoves the unruly emotion away, focusing on the less concerning sense of guilt.  

Honestly, Lewis isn’t enjoying this unwanted return to self-doubt and emotional insecurity. These last few years, spent working at the family diner, hanging with Arthur, and dating Vivi, have been his best by a long shot. Now all his old fears are back with a vengeance. In his front breast pocket, Arthur’s note seems unnaturally heavy and he resists the urge to pull it out and scan it for answers that didn’t exist. In his mind’s eye, every communication and interaction with Arthur flashes by. Was he too imposing? Too pushy.? Not friendly enough? Should he have stepped back and given Arthur more space? Mabey he’d give Arthur too much space?  

All the memories seem wrong now, which is knows can’t be right. Discontent grows. Lewis gives Vivi a light squeeze, trying to find a distraction from the building unease. Lewis is letting his current feelings colour his past recollections, and he needs to stop. This needs to be approached logically. Inadvertently, his free hand lifts to hover over his breast pocket. The piece of paper drags at his heart like a chain attached to a cement block, sinking slowly into the ocean.

“What are you thinking about?” The prompt breaks his worried silence. Vivi is staring pointedly, attention flicking between his hand and the pocket. This whole situation has got her wound into a ball of worried energy, jittery and irritable.

Lewis sighs to release tension, moving the hand to rub his eyes, “Just trying, and kind of failing, to find a rational explanation for stuff.” He lets the sentence hang so it can encompass all of everything. Arthur panicking, running away, Lance’s mysterious hospitalisation, being left stranded, and it all potentially being his fault.

“We can’t know why…” Vivi starts to reassure to which Lewis finishes quickly, “Without asking Arthur. I know…” He is still trying to incorporate it into this current mindset. He’s not been entirely successful but saying it out loud helps.  

Lewis continues doggedly, “But maybe, if we narrow the weird behaviour down to a particular point we’ll find some reason for it?” A reason that wasn’t him. He doesn’t say the last part. He doesn’t need to. Despite his preference towards sitting and silently thinking through a problem, talking benefits them both.

Vivi shuffles a bit to lean into him, her jittery leg movement stops. “Yeah, I was thinking about that as well. It has to be recent because I’m sure one of us would have noticed if it was a long-term thing.”

Lewis frowns at the highway, offering, “We haven’t really spent a lot of time with Arthur this last few weeks. So I guess that makes a bit of sense.”

As if picking up on his line of thought, Vivi comments, “Two weeks ago, the first day we started painting the van, Arthur ran off and spent all that time in the bathroom. I kind to thought it was odd, but, you know, one extended trip to the bathroom isn’t really that big a deal.  But then he also sat in his room for the rest of the evening….”

Lewis grimaces, thinking back, sorting through his recollections. Arthur had been awfully uncommunicative ad unsarcastically silent that day. Initially, he’d concluded that his friend was annoyed at him for ruining the budgeting, over-spending on paint. It sounds dumb in hindsight, but it’s the first time in a long while Lewis remembers being unsure on the direction of Arthur’s thoughts or reaction to a problem.

“Maybe” He responds noncommittally, wounding how to describe the weird disconnect out loud.

“This is going to sound weird…” Vivi continues, tapping her food to show her renewed agitation, “But I swear his face was moving funny that day.”

“Moving funny?” Lewis raises a brow at the odd statement. She shrugs loosely, leaning into him a bit more, so he’s supporting her full weight.

“Yeah, it was like, his face was different. Strange. I don’t know. Is that weird?”

“A little,” Lewis admits, catching Vivi’s thoughtful expression. Together they mull over the conundrum in more comfortable silence. Despite managing to narrow down a potential start date, they make little progress on possible causes, leading to more frustration.

Finally, a navy-blue pick-up truck with a compacted cab and shallow flat-bed slows along the main road, pulling off and forcing them to shelve any further conversation.  Vivi is up and moving before Lewis gets a chance to really process the arrival, knocking both him and Mystery to the side. While Lewis picks himself up, Vivi hails the driver, a darker-haired, flannel wearing middle aged man. The man, probably Jamie, waves a response, jumping from the vehicle, meeting Vivi halfway.

“I take it you’re the couple looking to buy a truck?” Lewis hears a confused greeting, drawing closer, close on Vivi's heels. Jamie is giving both him and Vivi a perplexed expression. Between Vivi’s blue and his purple, they make quite the pair, so the hesitation isn’t entirely unfounded.

“Is this the pick-up? It’s small,” Vivi steps to the side, dodging around Jamie and his outstretched hand to stare at the truck, “I thought it would be bigger.”

“It’s compact,” Jamie grunts, swivelling awkwardly to track Vivi’s quick progress past, calling, “One of the reasons I’m selling actually, not enough space for equipment.” Lewis represses the twitch threatening at the corners of his mouth.  Vivi’s complete disregard of social queues is as amusing as it is exasperating.

“Hey, I’m Lewis,” He introduces, catching Jamie’s outstretched hand. If there is one thing Lewis abides by, it's the idea that being friendly and making people like you pays off in the long run, even if it is emotionally exhausting and the last thing he really feels like doing.  Another grunt and the handshake is returned, “Name’s Jamie. Nice to meet you I suppose.”  Lewis is the subject of a critical once over and more confusion. The copious amount of purple tends to do that.

“Your cousin said this is good for an eight-hour drive? Is that true?” Vivi yells from where she is circling the truck. She hoists herself up, leaning in through one of the open windows, checking the interior.

“We have to get to a town called Tempo. It’s eight hours away,” Lewis elaborates quickly,  “The truck looks pretty new?”

“That’s because it is. The thing’s several years old but barely seen any use. What do you need to go all the way to Tempo for?”

Lewis starts to respond but hesitates when Vivi calls, “We’ll take it. $2500 right?”

“What,” Jamie stalls, turning to stare past him at Vivi, who is now crawling out from under the truck, where she’s presumably been checking for rust and or other defects, wiping dirt off her skirt.

“Right now?” He glances at Lewis as if to confirm, to which he nods, reinforcing her verdict. Neither of them knows a whole lot about cars, but they’ve spent enough time around Arthur that he trusts her ability to spot any potential problems.

“Yes. This second even…” Vivi presses.

Jamie, now squinting between them, narrows his eyes ever so slightly in obvious suspicion, “Yeah. I mean, there’s paperwork, we have to transfer the registration, and insurance…that’ll only take a few hours….You’re sure?”

“Definitely sure. Is it possible to do the paperwork stuff later? We really need to get going right this second.”

“Are you two in some sort of trouble…because I don’t want to be involved in none of that.”

Lewis waves the concern aside, projecting as much confidence as he can muster given how out of sorts he’s feeling. This is what all those hours spent gossiping and chatting with Tempo’s locals have prepared him for, convicting a random man to trust them not to screw him over.   “We’re not in any trouble or going to cause trouble. However, our friend might be. We need to find him as quickly as possible.”

“Right…” Jamie hesitates, expression clearing.

“He drove off with our only form of transport.” Sometimes, it’s best to give a bit of truth to build a better repour.  

“That’s rough…” Jamie scowls but appears a little more accommodating, “I suppose we could sort something out. But I’ll be taking both your details. If you go off and crash, I’m not taking any responsibility.” Lewis nods gratefully. Across the carpark, Vivi grins, relief splashed across her features, making the whole exchange worth it.

After paying the $2500, exchanging identification, contact details, signing a proof of sales, and a guarantee to register and insure the vehicle upon reaching their destination, they have their mode of transport. While Vivi jostles Jamie through the process, flicking through paperwork, and enlists the help of receptionist Claire to print and photocopy documents, Lewis finishes packing, throwing most their bags into the empty truck-bed. Overall, in no small part due to Vivi’s perseverance, they end up leaving a mere two hours behind Arthur. Lewis has never been more appreciative of her  ‘charge blindly ahead’ attitude until now. Thank god one them doesn’t turn into a useless over-emotional lump at the first sign of misfortune.  Does that make him a bad person?

Both Jamie and Claire gather to watch their departure. The truck lurches awkwardly, Vivi acquainting herself with the unfamiliar size and weight. Lewis grips the inner door handle, a bit of motion sickness mixing in with worry and other more unwelcome emotions.  With Vivi focused entirely on driving, Lewis is left once again to think in silence. Till now, Lewis has been doing his best to ignore it, but there is no denying the uninvited trickle of anger, underscoring everything, growing steadily. A small part of it is directed at Arthur, for not telling them what was wrong and thinking he had to face his problems alone. A more significant portion of it is directed at himself, his lack of control, his failure to recognise Arthur’s hate as fear, and for feeling the emotion in the first place. Mostly, the anger is purposeless, a foundation for his worry, apprehension and fear. However, if Vivi is right. If something is messing with Arthur and causing this sharp divide between the two of them...

Lewis clenches his fist.

NOTE: Lewis exercising his high charisma stats. Also, this part required way more words than I initially planned. Do people enjoy these character focused sections or does everyone just want to see the plot progress?

Part 27: here

[justauthoring]

No Reason To (8/50)

Prompt: “And I guess… when it comes down to it, I trust you.”

It has come to my attention that by adding links to my posts, it stops that post from being seen in the tags tagged. So, sadly, I will no longer be able to link previous parts of NRT on new chapters. BUT all part can be found easily on my “No Reason To Series MasterList!” found in my bio.

A/N: Here we go! Another part!

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Pairing: Stiles x McCall!Reader

Based off of: Teen Wolf 02x03 and 02x04

Tag List: @potterheadbbc - @sunsetblake - @mythicalamphitrite - @loverofwaytoomanythings618 - @creamychickenuggets - @mnk - @gazebros- @colie87 - @quilliamfears - @quellum - @pessimisticbullshite - @desired-love-@thinkwritexpress-official - @kaylinfayezink - @maiabiovillage - @tr1chst3r - @arkcangel - @quirkytwinkles - @thegirlwhoimagined - @noones-girl1980 - @illumminated - @fairchild345 - @all-will-be-well-love - @animemes-trash - @starryrevelations - @literallyhelpme - @theskytraveler - @jinandtion1c - @ilovemymoose - @bibliophilesquared - @stilessarcasmqueen - @mersuperwholocked-lowlife - @newtsshelbys - @wyattgoleft - @pancakefancake - @saturno-in-the-night - @pizzamelon7384 - @riskregretting - @mdgrdians - @ravenclawnerdfromnarnia - @franchisefan14 - @lovingpeterparker - @audreysduvxl - @kararanae23 - @alioop3818 If you’d like to be tagged, just let me know! Any in italics are those Tumblr won’t let me tag!

“Stilinski, Erica, let’s go.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you watch as Stiles races over to the rock climbing wall, his lips curved into an excited smile. While on the other hand, Erica hesitates a moment, as if nervous.

Once they’re both strapped up and ready to go, you can’t help but sigh at Stiles’s attire. Sure, maybe it’s gym - but come on? Green track pants with a blue shirt? It’s moment like these that make you wonder why you like him- or actually, did like. Why you did like him.

Stiles reaches the top in seconds flat, landing back down on his feet with a celebratory whoop. You would’ve basked in his enjoyment as well had your attention not been caught by Erica, who, opposite to Stiles, had barely made it halfway up. If you listened closely enough, you could hear her soft whimpers of distress.

Her soft whimpers eventually grew loud, until she began hyperventilating. “Oh, please...” She cries, her knuckles turning white from the tight grip she has on two of the coloured rocks. 

The group of students, plus coach, step forward, circling underneath Erica.

“Erica,” coach calls out. “Dizzy? Is it vertigo?”

“Vertigo’s a dysfunction of the vestibular system of the inner ear,” Lydia corrects, shaking her head. “She’s just freaking out.”

“Erica!”

“I’m-I’m fine,” she stammers, voice shaky.

“Coach,” you call, “she’s obviously not fine. Besides, maybe it’s not safe. You know she’s epileptic.” Slowly, you pull your gaze off of Erica, turning to the coach who meets your gaze as if shocked. He did know she was epileptic, right?

“Why-Why doesn’t anybody tell me this stuff?” Correction, he did not. “Erica, y-you’re fine. Just kick off from the wall. T-There’s a mat to catch you. Come on.”

Erica hesitates a moment longer, and the thought that maybe you should go up there and help her passes through your mind. But then, she’s pushing back, slowly letting go of the rocks she’d been gripping onto for so long, and then, Erica’s letting herself fall down.

“See,” the coach laughs lightly, obviously not sure how to react. “You’re fine. You’re on the ground. You’re all right. Just shake it off. Let’s go.”

You frown heavily at the sound of your classmates laughing at the poor girl as she walks pass. You seriously don’t understand what’s so funny. The poor girl was just afraid. 

Stepping in front of her before she’s able to leave, you offer a small smile; “hey,” you call, voice soft. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she dismisses, shaking her head. “Fine.”

Before you can say anything more, she’s walking past you and out of the gym.

-

“Got ‘em. Pick you up right after work tonight and we’ll meet at the rink, cool?”

“Where are you guys even going?”

You expect an answer, taking a bite out of your lunch. Though, a moment later, nothing.

Raising your head with furrowed brows, you glance at both Scott and Stiles, prepared to give them a piece of your mind for blatantly ignoring your question. But the moment you see them, you noticed their attention focused on something or rather, someone passed you.

Turning your head in the direction they’re looking, you never expect to see Erica, same Erica from that morning that practically cried at having to climb a rock wall, dressed in leopard print high heels and a short skirt that competes with even Lydia’s. Your jaw slackens in surprise, eyes widening with bafflement.

Erica saunters into the cafeteria, stopping by a boy, taking his apple and taking a bite out of it before giving the boy across from him a sultry smirk. She wipes away a bit of the apple from the corner of her lip, before straightening out once more, cocking out her left hip.

Just then, Lydia arrives at your table, slamming her hands down. “What... the holy hell... is that?”

“...It’s Erica,” Scott answers, in a daze.

The next minute, she’s walking out of the cafeteria and you, Stiles and Scott are quick to follow after her.

A moment later, you’re rushing out of the school, just managing to catch sight of Erica opening up a car door. The car door to Derek’s car.

Derek offers a bright grin, before speeding off.

“I thought he wasn’t going to turn anyone anymore,” you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

“So did I.”

-

“Stiles.”

“Y/N.”

Blinking, you glance past Stiles, attempting to find some reason why he’s here, right now, at your door step. Scott’s working, so it can’t be him. And he’s definitely not here to see your mom, so... “What are you doing here?” You question, raising a brow.

“Here to pick you up,” Stiles grins, “duh.”

“Pick me up?” You repeat, narrowing your eyes in thought. Yup, nothing. “...Why?”

“You, me, Scott, Allison and Lydia are all going ice skating tonight.” Stiles explains, the bright on his lips never wavering. He waves the keys you saw him with earlier today, at lunch, and suddenly it clicks.

“Hmm, no,” you shake your head, “i’m not going.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, i’m not.”

“Y/N,” Stiles huffs, lips curling down into a pout. “Come on, it’s going to be fun.”

“Yes, i’m sure you and my brother will have a great time.” You offer a tight-lipped smile, attempting to step back and shut the door. “Tell Lydia and Allison I say hi!”

Before you can even attempt at shutting the door, Stiles stops you, placing his hand against it and pushing you back. You huff in response, this time it’s your turn to pout. “Must I go?”

Stiles doesn’t hesitate; “yes.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab your coat off the of the coat hook, pulling it on. “Mom!” You call, not waiting for a response. “I’m going out! Should be home later!”

Part of you hopes that Melissa will come running down, professing that, no, you can’t go. She needs your help or she wants to hang with you. Something. But instead, Melissa simply just calls back; “okay!” And then Stiles is clapping his hands in excitement, reaching forward to grab your wrist and practically yanking you out of your own home, down the steps and into his jeep.

The main reason you hadn’t wanted to go when Scott had offered earlier was because Allison and Lydia were coming. You loved hanging with them, of course. Lydia had been your best friend for years, and Allison was now too. But... you didn’t want to be a third wheel, or you guess, a fifth wheel. Allison was obviously going for Scott, since the two were dating. And you knew Lydia had been invited for Stiles’s sake, so they could hangout.

That didn’t matter to you so much. You didn’t like Stiles like that anymore, ever since you had started dating Isaac. But because of everything that happened with Isaac, you hadn’t seen him in a few days and... well, you would essentially be the only one there without a date.

Meaning, you’d be skating by yourself.

-

Sighing, you glance down at your skates, fiddling with the shoe-lace before slowly drifting your gaze upwards once more. Allison and Scott are having a wonderful time, even if Scott can’t skate. You’ve counted him falling about at least seven times, and that was just on his butt. If you counted on his face or back, well... you don’t have enough fingers on both hands for that.

And Lydia and Stiles seem to be getting along, so that’s great.

You’re happy for them. You really are. And the reason you aren’t skating definitely isn’t because you don’t want to be the only skating alone... definitely not.

Biting your lip, you set your head in the palm of your hand, hugging yourself tighter. You wish Stiles would’ve given you more time to prepare and you would’ve worn a warmer outfit than just a knee-length skirt, a sweater and some tights. 

“Skating not your thing?”

Gasping slightly, you raise your head in surprise, not having expected to see Stiles before you. Glancing past his shoulder, you watch as Lydia keeps on skating, without a care in the world that Stiles was no longer by her side.

“Uh,” you laugh, rubbing at the back of your head. “I’m just a little bit tired.”

“Or are you as bad of a skater as Scott?”

Snorting, you roll your eyes; “as if,” you shake your head. “I use to skate all the time. Scott on the other hand not so much.”

“Then,” Stiles continues, stepping off the ice rink and moving until he’s before you. Your eyes widen when he extends his hand out towards you, palm facing upwards. “Come on.”

“No, no,” you shake your head once more, laughing lightly. “I mean-”

“Get up off your lazy butt,” Stiles sasses, taking your hand in his own and gently pulling you up. You wobble slightly in response, gripping onto Stiles’s hand tighter to balance yourself. “And come skate with me.”

Before you know it, you’re being led off into the ice rink, Stiles’s hand still in your own. It takes a moment, but eventually you relent, beginning to skate next to Stiles. You hate the disappointment that floods you when Stiles lets go of your hand, opting to let it rest by his side as he grins brightly over at you. You’d thought, that after everything at the winter formal and Isaac, you’d gotten over your feelings for Stiles... but here they were.

They were small. Minimal. You still liked Isaac, a lot. But... being here, with Stiles like this, you can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if it had been you at the winter formal with Stiles, instead of Lydia.

“See? Told you it’d be fun.”

Rolling your eyes, you let out a laugh; “I will admit, I am having a little bit of fun.”

A piercing scream interrupts your laughing. With wide eyes, you halt to a stop, spinning your head around in the direction of the scream. There is Lydia, on her hands and knees, palms pressed against the ice, screaming at the top of her lungs. Almost immediately, Stiles leaves your side, rushing over to her, attempting to pull her back.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Allison and Scott standing there, looking just as hopeless as you.

-

“Y/N.”

Jumping, you hold a hand against your chest, letting out a huff when you see Derek standing before you. “Must you sneak up on me?” You breathe, letting your hand fall by your side once more.

Derek laughs, a smirk falling on his lips as he takes the few short steps over to you. The way he walks, as if he’s got a purpose, baffles you somewhat, and instinctively, you take one back, a gasp leaving your lips when you feel your back hit the wall. Glancing around yourself, you notice the lack of students in the hallway, and silently you wish you had class instead of a spare.

When you look forwards once more, Derek is now directly before you, still smirking.

Swallowing thickly, you cross your arms over your chest, attempting at seeming more confident than you actually feel in that moment. “Is there something you needed?”

“You,” Derek says simply.

Blinking, you raise a brow; “me?” You question, unable to stop the laugh of surprise that leaves your lips. “What could you possibly want with me?”

“The last time we spoke, you said you would never take the bite,” Derek explains, and you feel a sense of dread flood you at his words. “I don’t believe that’s true.”

“Well, you might wanna rethink that, because I meant what I said.”

Derek takes another step forward, and suddenly, he feels a little too close for comfort. It almost feels like your breath is caught in your throat, desperately keeping your chin raised, so as not to appear afraid. You never tear your gaze off of Derek’s, ignoring the nervousness that floods you.

Leaning forward, Derek lowers his voice to a whisper. “I don’t think I have to.”

Scoffing, you shake your head. “Why would you want me apart of your pack anyway?”

“I already have three people,” Derek explains, and immediately your eyes widen. “I’m merely just offering you because your Scott’s sister and because Isaac seems to trust you. If you become apart of my pack, you could see him a lot more.”

“Good try,” you shrug, shaking your head. “But I don’t wanna be like you.”

Derek leans back then, stunning you. With a shrug, he nods; “thought I should offer.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“I won’t force you, Y/N,” Derek smiles back at you, walking away. And you realize, even if you hadn’t meant to, Derek got exactly what he wanted. “But you know where to find me if you happen to change your mind.”

Long after Derek disappears, you remain stood there, in the exact same position. It doesn’t settle right within you. Derek’s offer. But you can’t deny it’s tempting...

-

“Derek has already has his third member.”

Scott and Stiles turn to you in surprise as you hastily take a seat before them, eyes wide.

“How do you know that?” Scott questions, face scrunching up in bewilderment.

Coughing slightly, you wave off his question. “It doesn’t matter how I know,” you dismiss, “all that matters is we need to figure out who.”

“I think I might already know,” Stiles sighs.

“Who?”

Pointing behind you, Stiles frowns. “Look at that empty table.”

Listening, you crane your neck around, finding the empty table Stiles refers to. You stare at it a moment, trying to figure what Stiles is trying to say to you... You can’t.

“Okay,” you say slowly, turning to face the two. “And?”

“And, who’s empty table is that?”

Lips parting, realization floods you; “Boyd’s...”

-

Swallowing down your fear, you ignore everything else, hastily making your way up the steps and into the ice rink. You can hear grunts and moans in the background, mixed with thuds and other sounds you can only imagine is coming from fighting.

You don’t know what you’ll find when you get there. And you know there’s a huge possibility that Isaac will be there too. But you also know Scott will be there, and if Derek is as strong as he made himself seem earlier, Scott won’t last by himself.

And yes, you don’t know what you’ll do. You’re just human. What are you going to do against a bunch of werewolves? But that is your brother in there, your twin brother, and you have to at least try.

The first thing you notice though, when you get inside, is not your brother or Derek, but Isaac, laying on his stomach, knocked out. His name leaves your lips in a shrill cry, rushing forward and sliding to your knees next to him. Grabbing his shoulder, you heft him over so he’s on his back with a grunt of effort, shifting over until you’re peering above him. Grabbing both his cheeks, you make sure he’s okay. That nothing isn’t seriously wrong.

The moment you’re sure he’s okay, that’s when you notice Derek standing to your left, and Scott and Boyd across from him.

“It’s true,” Derek nods, “it is about power.”

Still crouched next to Isaac, your eyes widen when you see Derek’s claws, and the way he’s stalking over to your brother. It’s clear by the expression on Boyd’s face that he isn’t here to help your brother, and possibly, maybe even against him. You don’t know. All you know is that Derek is heading straight for your brother, and everything you know about werewolves tells you that beta’s can’t beat alpha’s.

Derek lets out a growl, and then he’s bashing his head against Scott’s, causing the latter to stumble back. In the next second, Derek’s claws are slashing through your brother’s stomach, causing him to cry out. Your stomach lurches, and your eyes water with distress at the sight of seeing your brother beat repeatedly.

And for a while, you just sit there, helpless, as Scott only manages to hit Derek a few times, and the rest, he’s being hit. It isn’t until Derek takes Scott by the collar of his shirt, picking him up and slamming Scott down on his back does your body react. Just as Scott turns his head to the side, blood spitting out from his mouth, a shrill scream leaves your lips.

“Stop!”

You don’t know how you do it, you can’t explain it. But with one simple blink, Derek’s suddenly on his back, far away from your brother.

Silence floods the entire rink, and slowly picking himself up, Derek’s wide and surprised eyes fall on you. You feel stuck, now on your feet, isolated in the middle of that ice rink, as if all eyes are on you.

Somehow, you made Derek move, just with your mind. And you don’t know how.

Derek picks himself up until he’s on his feet, and you take a step back, hugging yourself, afraid. Not of him though, but yourself. 

But Derek only looks at you a moment longer, before making his way over to Scott once more. He doesn’t do anything more, just simply stares down at your brother, almost in a threatening way, before walking off. He walks past you, watching you, and with uneven breathing, you stand there, staring down at your feet.

“Don’t,” you hear your brother rasp, “you don’t wanna be like them.”

“You’re right,” Boyd says in response, and slowly, you pick up your head, watching as Boyd reveals the bite on his lower left hip. “I wanna be like you.”

Erica and Isaac stand up then, just as Boyd makes his way over to the two of them and Derek. Still stunned, you turn your head, meeting Isaac’s gaze. He swallows nervously, holding his arm in pain, as he meets your gaze. There’s a million thoughts passing through your mind in that moment, but you don’t say any of them.

It’s only when they’ve left, do you finally move. 

Falling next to Scott’s side, you help him up, wrapping his arm around his shoulder, before hefting him up. He struggles a bit, groaning in response. “Y/N,” he rasps, voice weak. “What was th-”

“We need to get you to the vet, somewhere where you can heal,” you dismiss, interrupting him. “Let’s go.”

You refuse to say anything on the way there, just as you refuse Scott when he tries to tell you to go home. If anything, right now, you really don’t wanna be alone.

“I don’t understand,” Scott huffs, walking into the back of the vet store. “Why isn’t it healing?”

“Because it’s from an alpha.”

Blinking, you glance up, surprise to see Deaton, Scott’s boss, standing there. He has a body laying on the examining table, scars lining the man’s stomach.

“I think we better have that talk now.”

-

Turns out, Deaton, Scott’s boss, knew everything. And by everything, you mean everything. He knows about werewolves, about the Argents and he knew Scott was a werewolf. He told you more about werewolves than you’d ever known, and it was possibly the most clear thing that had happened that night. 

Actually, the only clear thing. 

Every time you feel like you’re ahead, you are really two steps behind. Whatever you did that night in the ice rink, however you somehow threw Derek with nothing but your mind, you don’t care. You don’t want to know. You don’t want to care. It hurts your mind just thinking about it and you refused to answer Scott whenever he brings it up.

Whatever that was, it was just a fluke. Nothing more. What you did isn’t possible, and you will continue to believe that until someone tells you differently.

And no, you’re not taking a late night stroll through the woods because you’re afraid. That’s ridiculous.

But, every time you do close your eyes, these terrible nightmares flood you. You end up waking up in a cold sweat, breathing uneven and shaking in terror. Whatever happened that night, it changed something within you. Maybe it’s all just in your head. Maybe because of what happened, you’re blowing it out of proportion and worrying over nothing.

That’s probably what’s happening. It has to be.

Nonetheless, sleep isn’t something that comes to easy to you anymore. And you hope, after a walk, maybe you’ll finally be able to drift off. You sure hope so at least, given that you’re about two minutes away from home and definitely ready to sleep.

At least you were, until you saw Isaac standing by your front door, pacing as if unsure if he should knock or not. The sight of him baffles you, especially because you haven’t seen him since that night in the ice rink. Things have just been... odd between the two of you, and you’re not really sure how to act around him anymore.

“Isaac,” you call, making your way up the steps to your front porch. Said boy turns around to face you at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening slightly. Stopping before him, you bite your lip; “what are you... um, doing here?”

“I, um,” Isaac starts, coughing slightly to find his voice. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Nodding slowly, you swallow thickly, hugging yourself tighter. “About?”

“Well, actually, I wanted to apologize. For everything. Uh, for that night in the ice rink with Scott and Derek.”

“Oh, you mean when you beat up my brother?” You question, raising a brow.

“To be fair,” Isaac laughs lightly, “I think he kicked my ass more...”

Chuckling quietly, you shrug, you can’t deny that. 

“Is this how it’s gonna be between us now?” You can’t help but ask after a moment of silence. “Awkward? Distant?”

Isaac’s face falls, and his lips part; “no, I-”

“Isaac, before that night, I hadn’t seen you in days. And I know you can’t help the whole being a fugitive thing, but, you’re with Derek... And there’s no way i’m betraying my brother.”

Isaac nods, “I know.”

Shaking your head, you sigh; “then I think we’ve said all we need to say.” Taking a step forward, you move to step past Isaac, intent on heading inside. But before you can, Isaac grabs a hold of your wrist, pulling you back until you’re stood before him. His quick reflexes surprise you, and you stare up at him with wide eyes.

Without even saying anything, Isaac cups both your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours. And for a small, split second, you know you should push away. After everything he’s done, you can’t let him do this. But you don’t. Instead, you raise your own hands, wrapping them around his neck and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

When you pull apart, you’re panting slightly, Isaac’s forehead resting against your own, his breath fawning over your face. 

“Now, we’ve said all we need to say.”

-

“Woah...”

Panting, rather heavily, Stiles holds his hands up before him; “sorry,” he breathes. “I’ve been... running back and forth for the past... ten minutes.”

Narrowing your eyes, you bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning madly the way Stiles’s is clearly out of breath. There’s a thick shine of sweat on his face, and he keeps having to pause in between words to catch said breath. Plus, he looks like he’s about to fall over and pass out.

“Slow down,” you laugh, shaking your head. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, you know,” Stiles shrugs, “just being Scott and Allison’s personal messenger.”

Snorting, you hold a hand against your mouth. “Messenger?”

“Ye- hey, don’t laugh,” Stiles snaps, narrowing his eyes at you. After a moment of just staring at you, his eyes widen; “wait, why can’t you do it? You know just about everything as well.”

“Oh, sorry,” you frown, feigning pity. “I have to get to class, but... I wish you luck!”

“Haha,” Stiles rolls his eyes, “thank you for your help.”

“No problem,” you grin, moving to walk off before pausing. “Oh! What are they talking about anyway?”

Stiles suddenly stills, turning to you with narrowed eyes. “I’m not being your messenger either.”

“No, no, I just wanna know what’s happening, you know. Stay in the loop.”

“Fine,” he huffs, pulling his backpack higher on his shoulder. “Scott wants Allison to try and get that book his boss mentioned..?”

“Oh, yeah,” you nod, “I remember.”

“Anyways, Allison thinks her grandfather has it.”

“Cool,” you nod with a small smile, “thanks for filling me in.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome.”

You turn, and out of the corner of your eye you also notice Stiles turn to walk off. It isn’t until something else pops into your mind, do you stop him once again. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“For the love of God,” Stiles mumbles under his breath, spinning around to face you. “What?”

“Okay, grumpy,” you pout, shaking your head. “I just wanted you to know I won’t be at the game tonight.”

Stiles face falls at your words, he tries to hide it, but it so clearly does. With a deep frown marring his features, Stiles furrows his brows. “Why?”

“Umm, i’m... busy,” you quickly explain, glancing down at your feet. Stiles can tell by the way you avoid his gaze, there’s more to you just being busy, but he doesn’t push it.

“Well, have fun being busy.”

“Thanks,” you laugh, “and tell Scott for me?”

“I’m not your messenger!”

-

“My mom’s at the game. So is Scott.”

Smirking, Isaac nods, following you up the stairs and eventually, into your bedroom. You shut the door behind you, even if Melissa won’t be home for a while, and Scott even longer, before turning around to face Isaac who’s managed to make himself comfortable on your bed.

You can’t help but grin a little at the sight of him. You really liked Isaac pre-bite, but Isaac as a werewolf is completely different. While Isaac had always been tender and gentle with you, and you’d loved it, this Isaac was quite confident in himself. And to be honest, you rather liked it. Plus, that leather jacket did look good on him.

Making your way over to Isaac, you stop before him, standing tall before him while Isaac leans back, smirking up at you. You push down the bundle of nerves that flood you, smiling down at Isaac. “So,” you continue, quieting your voice. “We have the house all to ourselves.”

“It seems we do,” Isaac grins, reaching forward to grab your hips. He shuffles back on your bed, and you follow, moving until you’re resting on his lap, legs on either side of his own. 

Grabbing a hold of his leather jacket, you use it to pull Isaac forward, bringing your lips against his, stopping until they’re just inches apart. “You know,” you whisper, “I quite like the leather jacket.”

“Is that all you like?”

Leaning back, you lick your lips, before biting the bottom one. “Not necessarily.”

Pulling you closer, Isaac laughs; “what else do you like?”

The smile on your lips doesn’t falter, but instead of it being sultry, you smile endearingly. “I like your confidence,” you mumble, eyes softening. “Confidence you didn’t have before.”

Isaac’s smile falters slightly, “I was hoping you would,” he mumbles, eyes falling downwards.

You slouch slightly, letting go of his leather jacket with your right hand to grasp Isaac’s chin gently, pulling his gaze back on you. The moment his eyes are on yours, you move your thumb, gently stroking Isaac’s cheek, warmth spreading your gaze. “How come you never told me?”

It’s not hard for Isaac to understand what you’re talking about. “I didn’t tell anyone,” he shrugs.

“I know,” you nod, blinking. “But why not me? Do you not trust me?”

Isaac’s grip tightens ever so slightly, not so much that it’s bruising, but enough to gain your attention. “I trust you more than anyone.”

“Then... why?”

“I was ashamed,” he whispers, “I didn’t want you knowing that my father beat me. It’s not something i’m proud of.”

Frowning, you raise your hand, letting it fall against Isaac’s cheek. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“Wasn’t there for me?” Isaac exclaims, shaking his head. “You were, you are, the best thing that happened to me, Y/N. Not the bite, but you. I mean that.”

“I was so scared,” you admit, voice soft with uncertainty. “When I saw the police leading you away at school, I couldn’t stop shaking. But I knew, I knew you didn’t kill your father. I know you would never purposely hurt someone.”

Isaac’s smiles softly, raising his hands to cup your cheeks, laughing softly.

Slowly, you lean forward, this time you being the one to instigate the kiss. Isaac pulls you closer as you wrap your arms around his neck, loving the feeling of Isaac’s lips against your own. Eventually, Isaac falls back, you moving with him, until he flips you, making him the one on top.

He pulls back then, staring down at you with a certain hunger in his eyes.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he whispers, hands moving to grab the hem of your shirt.

You hesitate a moment, pausing. Is this something you want? And easily, the answer comes to mind. Yes.

“Keep going.”

-

You moan slightly in response to your phone ringing, comfortably cuddled against Isaac’s side. His arm is wrapped around your waist, holding you close with your sheets laying over top of the both of you.

You attempt to ignore the call, but the moment your phone stops ringing, it starts up again. Pushing yourself up, you wipe your hair out of your face, shifting in Isaac’s grip to grab your phone off your night stand. You frown slightly at seeing Stiles’s contact pop up.

“Who is it?” Isaac mumbles, turning his head to look at you.

“Stiles,” you answer, before swiping your phone across the screen. Pressing your phone against your ear, you furrow your brows. “Hello?”

“Y/N,” Stiles exclaims, “you have to get to the school. Now.”

“Stiles,” you sigh, “I told you I was busy-”

“Doesn’t matter. This is important.”

You open your mouth to say more, but before you know it, Stiles has hung up on you.

“What did he want?” Isaac asks, pushing himself up, setting his hand on your arm.

“He says I have to get to the school,” you shrug, “now.”

-

“Scott! Stiles!”

Said boys turn to you, Stiles lips immediately opening to say something before he halts at the sight of Isaac. “What is he doing here?”

Stopping before your brother and Stiles, you glance over at Isaac, meeting his eyes. “Doesn’t matter,” you dismiss after a moment, turning your attention back on the two of them. “What’s going on?”

“We have the bestiary,” Scott explains, gesturing to his laptop.

“The bestiary?” You question, scrunching your face up in confusion. “What’s a bestiary?”

“The book Allison got from her grandfather,” Stiles explains with a huff, surprising you with his sharp tongue. “Derek and I were attacked by that creature,” he continues, shaking his head. “We need to figure out what it is.”

Isaac steps forward, narrowing his eyes; “what language is that?”

“Hey!” Stiles exclaims, stepping in front of Isaac, blocking him from view of the text. “Back off, buddy.”

“Stiles,” you snap, glaring at him. “Just lay off.”

“Well, excuse me, but last time I checked, Isaac was on Derek’s side.”

“Hello,” Scott calls, bringing your attention back on him. “We still have to figure out what we’re dealing with. And what it is.”

“It’s called the kanima,” a new voice speaks up, pulling your attention to the left and on Derek. You notice Erica by his side, looking quite glum as the two of them stop in front of you four. Derek’s eyes fall on Isaac and you for a moment, before turning back to Scott. 

“You knew the whole time,” Stiles sighs, thoroughly annoyed.

“No,” Derek says, “only when it was confused by it’s own reflection.”

“It doesn’t know what it is,” Scott realizes.

“Or who,” Derek adds. 

“Well,” you speak up, “what else do you know?”

“Just stories. Rumors.”

“But it’s like us?” Scott asks, referring to his werewolf powers.

“It’s a shapeshifter, yes,” Derek nods, “but it’s-it’s not right. It’s like a...”

“Abomination,” Stiles finishes, causing you to frown. You glance over at Isaac, biting your lip.

After a moment, Derek nods, taking a step back. “Let’s go, Isaac.”

Isaac glances down at you, and with a sigh, you nod, stepping back. He steps forward with his own sigh, reaching Derek’s side, before the three of them start walking off.

“Derek!” Scott calls, halting the three of them. “We need to work together on this. Maybe even tell the Argents.”

Huffing, Derek shakes his head; “you trust them?”

“Nobody trusts anyone,” Scott argues, “that’s the problem. While we’re here arguing about who’s one what side, there’s something scarier, stronger, and faster than any of us, and it’s killing people! And we still don’t even know anything about it!”

“I know one thing,” Derek says, turning away. “When I find it... i’m gonna kill it.”

-

let me know what you thought? remember, reblogging always helps!

[ichigopanhpff]

BNHA Fic: Blink! Ch. 20

We’ve reach chapter 20! Does anyone really read this thing though? lol

SPOILER ALERT: This is leading up to the Redemption Arc, so there’s a bit of spoiler to the main story here. This one is a much shorter chapter compared to the last one.

Read. Ch. 19 | Masterlist

With November coming to a close, winter was in full swing. There was always something about the cold in Japan that made Ren want to bury her body under a kotatsu and hibernate. She lethargically emerged from the her warm cocoon of her bed to get ready for class. The chill of the air made her shudder aloud and rubbed her arms furiously to stay warm. Putting on her designated “home hoodie,” she grabbed her belongings to wash up downstairs. Even after fully clothed, 1-A’s resident advisor found herself moving much slower than she liked. And her monthly visitor’s cramps did little to help. She saw Asui coming down with half-lidded eyes and yawned aloud.

“I’m sorry, ribbit,” the amphibian girl apologized and rubbed one of her eyes. “Winter is always hard for me.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, Tsuyu-chan,” Ren agreed and proceeded to boil water for some tea. “Would you like some? Maybe it’ll help wake you up.”

Asui slowly nodded and let out another yawn.

Leaning her head on the refrigerator door, the pink-haired girl found herself drifting asleep, only to be rudely woken up by Bakugou.

“If you’re gonna sleep, don’t do it somewhere where people need to grab stuff,” he exasperatingly refuted and pinched her cheek hard to get her to move.

The stinging from the pinch woke her up halfway as the electric kettle turned off automatically. Heaving a heavy sigh, she wobbled over to the other counter and made English Breakfast tea for herself and Asui. Adding a splash of milk and half a spoon of sugar, she stifled a yawn before sipping the hot beverage. She then handed the second cup to the napping frog girl, to which she thanked her for. Heaving a long sigh, she grabbed two pieces of toast and munched on it like a turtle.

Class went by in a blur and Ren managed to halfway wake up just as the day ended. The classroom door to 2-A suddenly slid open and revealed a very excited Ito with something in his hand.

“Everyone! The photos from the festival have been printed!” her classmate announced.

“About time!” one student chimed.

The class crowded over Ito as he opened the album and flipped through until they found the group shot of their class.

“Whoa! We look out of this world!” Tomoe exclaimed.

“I do have to say, the costume team did a wonderful job,” Seri commended. “My dress was so comfortable to move around.”

“And thanks for adding that last minute train to mine,” Ren sighed out. “It was much appreciated.”

“You’re still sensitive ‘bout that?” Tomoe asked with a tone of surprise. “Dude, let it go. Flaunt it.”

“I absolutely refuse to,” the pink-haired girl deadpanned and blushed. “I don’t want it to be bodysuit-gate all over again.”

“Speaking of your costume, Takahiro,” Ito interjected with a sly smile. “Your photo was one of the top three most requested for reprints next to Hadou-senpai’s.”

She blinked stupidly.

“I’m sorry, what now?”

“This one.” He flipped to the page where her photo had the full page spread of a mid-action shot from when she jumped off of the swing. She let out a panicked scream.

“It seems the audience was quite entranced by your wisp character,” Hayasaka remarked, staring at the photo. “Maybe it was a blessing in disguise I injured my ankle and helped backstage instead.”

“Your quirk would’ve made the wisp freakin’ legendary!” she reasoned. “I did what I could while running on 3 hours of sleep and barely remembered half the shit I did!”

“So?”  Akiyama huffed. “ I was on energy drinks and was awake for nearly 36 hours making all the costume adjustments.”

“Well no matter,” Miyake disregarded. “What’s important is the festival was a huge success and we were able to pull off the performance thanks to your help, Takahiro.”

Heading back to 1-A, she found Aizawa with the Big Three and Eri-chan sitting on the couch. She overheard Aizawa saying U.A. was now in charge of her well-being. Before Ren was able to go over to say hi, Togata and Aizawa waved her, Uraraka, Midoriya, Asui and Kirishima out the door to talk.

“It seems like Eri-chan’s parents abandoned her,” their homeroom teacher revealed. “And her closest blood relative is the boss of the Hassaikai, who is currently in a coma. So she has no where to go.”

“You may have heard this from sensei, but her horn is the source of her quirk,” Togata chimed in and tapped the left part of his forehead.

“We heard it shrunk and everything was good though...” Kirishima replied.

“The horn seems to have grown a bit recently,” the third year blond revealed.

“So… we need to make sure “that” doesn’t happen again?” Ochaco asked, thinking back to what happened to Midoriya after Overhaul was taken down with Eri’s quirk.

“That’s why her transfer was U.A. rather than a foster home,” Aizawa summarized. “I’ll be watching over her in the teacher’s lounge to monitor her situation. Hopefully, we can find a way to work out her power.”

“Aizawa-sensei, it seems like you’re taking on a lot of work,” Asui said with a tone of worry.

“This is where, I, friend of Eri-chan and student-on-hiatus, come in!” Togata shouted happily with both hands on hips hero pose.

“We’ll be busy but you can visit her every once in a while,” Aizawa finalized to which those present agreed to.

“If Eri-chan’s mind and body are stable then maybe...” Amajiki clasped a hand on Togata’s shoulder. “The return of the fearless hero could be soon.”

“That’d be nice,” Togata replied with a dry laugh.

“Third years, this is sudden, but can I leave Eri with you for a bit? I have something do.”

“Of course!” Togata enthusiastically agreed.

The first years were asked to return to their dorms to receive some guests. Ren followed them back in and saw the Wild Wild Pussycats talking with the class. She remembered from the report Aizawa gave her they were there at the training camp when the villains attacked. The resident advisor politely greeted and introduced herself to the idol heroes, noticing a small boy bashfully standing with Midoriya.

Talks of their return to the spotlight and the JP Hero Billboard Chart came about; the list of heroes aggregated twice a year based on their level of contribution to society, approval ratings, popularity, etc.

The following night, everyone tuned into the official announcement of the top 10 heroes. As expected, Endeavor was in the number one spot, with Hawks moving up to second. The R.A. glanced over at the bi-hair coloured boy, unflinching and expressionless watching the ceremony. His back almost felt distant from everyone. She wanted to ask how he was feeling about all this, but didn’t want to pry into something that’s not her business.

The next day, everyone was doing their own thing in the dorms. The TV could be heard in the background as several 1-A students hung out in the common area; Ren was huddled on the corner of a couch knitting. Some of the guys were talking and joking around with a few of the girls.

Kirishima, however, was entranced and emotionally invested with how fast their R.A. was going through the yarn, trying to figure out how she was creating something tangible from a thread like magic. Stopping momentarily, she counted her stitches and clicked her tongue. Muttering under her breath, she immediately removed the needle and unraveled a row. The spiky redhead exclaimed loudly as she did it, catching her attention.

“Did something happen?” she looked up and blinked in surprise.

“Gah, you worked so hard at it and you’re taking it apart?!” Kirishima groaned out. “Just leave it!”

“It’ll be uneven if I did. Besides,” she looked down to smooth out the yarn thread before starting again. “One row is nothing. I can remake it in my sleep.”

“What are you making anyway?”

“Something for Eri-chan,” she answered mid-stitch and picked up the rhythm after figuring out where she went wrong. “Christmas is coming up and I figured I’d give this to her as a present.”

“Oh that’s right!” Ashido chimed in. “We should all do something as a class!”

“We can’t exactly go off campus to have a party,” Kaminari lamented and leaned back on the couch across. “Kacchan and Todoroki still have their provisional lessons too.”

“How about we throw a party here after those two take their licensing exam?” Ren suggested and looked up. “As for presents...”

“We can do a Secret Santa!” the pink-skinned girl excitedly proposed.

“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Hagakure agreed and clapped her hands together.

“Looks like we got a plan!” Uraraka eagerly said. “I’m getting excited!”

“Mina-chan, I’ll let you take care of the Secret Santa details then, budget and everything,” Ren directed.

“Roger!” The alien queen saluted with a wink and toothy grin before heading up to her room.

The TV suddenly turned to a breaking news screen, showing part of a city in ruins somewhere in Kyushu with the headline “Endeavor, Number One Hero, Fighting Engineered Nomu.” The camera then pans into a bloodied Endeavor laying on top of rubble. The once vibrant common room fell silent with shocked eyes on the screen. Midoriya grabbed the remote and turned up the volume to hear the newscast. Ren dropped her knitting needles and clasped her hands to her mouth.

Feeling a new presence, those sitting on the couch turned to see a shocked Todoroki staring at the TV. It was like time suddenly slowed down and all the noise faded away from the loud beating of his pulse in his ear. Ren could only look on at the boy with extreme worry.

“Todoroki!” Kirishima called, with Midoriya following right after.

“The scene here, is sadly reminiscent of the nightmare from three months ago...” the caster presented.

The camera zoomed in at the Nomu beginning to walk away, with Endeavor immediately getting back up and rushed the monster with his flames. The scene then cuts to civilians panicking and screaming as they’re trying to escape from the disaster.

“This is society without a symbol of peace!” the live voice over strongly stated.

The main entrance of the dorm bursted open, revealing Aizawa running to them.

“Todoroki...” he panted. “You already saw what’s going on?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me...” the red and white colored haired boy uttered out nervously.

“Stop saying that crap already!” A voice from the TV abruptly shouted, revealing an angry young boy on camera. “Open your eyes before you say that crap! Especially at a time like this! You still see those flames up, right?! Endeavor’s still alive and fighting! So don’t give up just cus the other guy’s gone!”

Panicked pedestrians were still pushing the boy, but he wasn’t giving up.

“He’s still out there risking it for all of us! Can’t you see?!”

The camera changed back to the aerial view they have of the fight. As the broadcast continued on, everyone watched on with bated breath, hoping for a good outcome for Todoroki’s sake. Endeavor’s flames discharged with intensity out of his body and at the Nomu. Hawks then came from behind to assist him with his feathers. By now, the newscaster had changed her tone.

“Dad...” Todoroki’s voice quivered out with strength. “I’m watching!”

All they could see on the screen was a blinding exploding supernova in the sky on the screen and in that instant, two falling figures dropped from the sky at an alarming rate. After the smoke cleared, the victor was clear.

There he was, Endeavor bloodied and beaten up holding a victorious pose with his right fist up in the air and a super crispy Nomu on the ground.

“It’s Endeavor! He’s standing tall in victory, no! Standing tall for his beginning!” the newscaster shouted in elation. The once panicking crowd then erupted into screams and cheers. The other students jumped off of their seats and ran to over to him. Any energy Todoroki had was completely zapped when he squatted down and breathed a sigh of relief and placed his hands together over his forehead. But that peace didn’t last long as the surrounding area was engulfed with blue flames.

“It’s him!” Aizawa stated. “What’s he thinking being out in the open like that?!”

“The League of Villains is here! It’s league member Dabi!” the newscaster announced. “He’s surrounded Endeavor and Hawks with a wall of flames!”

The three got into a confrontation and a fight started breaking out, but was soon broken up by Mirko’s powerful kick.

“You’re one of those League of Villains bastards ain’tcha?!” she proclaimed. “I’ll kick your ass till kingdom come!”

As fast as Dabi came, he disappeared with a black essence coming out of his mouth. And moment of silence filled the void, with only the TV caster announcing the fight was won. Heaving another soul-leaving sigh, Todoroki gathered the strength in his legs and slowly stood back up. Aizawa took him to the side to talk one-on-one. All Ren could do was look on like an outsider.

After a quick discussion, 1-A’s homeroom teacher gave special permission for him to go home for a few days. With the rest of the students retreating back to their respective rooms, Ren decided to stop by Tororoki’s to check on him. She stood in front of his room door and swallowed hard, her right hand freezing mid-air.

What kind of face would he show her?

Would he even want to talk?

Was she here as his friend, the R.A. or something else?

Gathering what courage she had, the door opened just as she was about to knock. She met his hetero-chromatic eyes expressing surprise. All she could do was stand there in stupor, unable to move.

“Ren-senpai...” he softly greeted. “Did you need something?”

“Huh? I, er, uh…” she stammered out at a higher pitch than she liked, feeling her cheeks get warm and looked down at her now fumbling hands. “I-I just wanted to see how you were d-doing and–”

She cleared her throat and calmed herself from her botched words.

“I came by to see how you were doing, that’s all,” she managed to get out and looked away.

Todoroki merely blinked at her slowly. It took him all of his willpower to not pull her into his room and embrace her. He wanted to feel her warmth to comfort him, but he had to hold back. Anyone could come out of their rooms at any moment and would misunderstand their relationship.

But… what was their relationship exactly?

He wanted to say more, but all he could default to was, “I’m fine. Aizawa-sensei’s letting me go home tomorrow to see my siblings and my dad.”

“Oh, right. I’ll… leave you to it then,” she said with a look of distance in her eyes.

Watching her small form walk away from his door, Todoroki felt that sensation bubbling up again. The tinge of pain in his chest she’ll disappear if he dared look away for one second. His hand instinctively grabbed a hold of her wrist, jolting her muscles and turned her head. He looked at her with loneliness reflecting off of his glassy gaze.

“Todo-kun?” she questioned.

Realizing what he’d done, he immediately released his hold.

“I-I’m sorry...” he whispered and grabbed his hair by the roots, looking away with shame. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Ren slowly walked back and stood in front of him with a softened gaze.

“Just remember it’s okay to not be okay,” she gently spoke with an encouraging smile, making sure to keep a moderate distance from physical contact in case anyone saw. “You have people on your side to help.”

[kierongillen]

Writer Notes: The Wicked + the Divine 40

Spoilers, obv.

The first issue of "Okay." I've known for quite some time that it was likely the final arc would use the word "Okay" in some way. The unpacking phrase "It's going to be okay" has been a backbone of the series. Due to the first year on the book, that's been a loaded phrase, all the way through.

But when signing a first volume of the book, I've added the dedication "It's going to be okay." There's lots to unpack in that, and I suspect I'll wait until later in this arc to say any more. But knowing that eventually we'd like have an arc called "Okay" was definitely part of doing it.

The quotation marks are key. It's a move I've done a few times in my career, in terms of showing it's a story that wants to highlight something, and raise awareness that the word should be approached with conscious consideration. This is a choice. I want you to know it's a choice. Let's talk about what that actually means anyway, right?

It's a technique I first lifted from Bowie's "Heroes". Which, of course, is doubly appropriate to use it at the end of WicDiv.

We knew they'd be a gap between the end of Mothering Invention and the start of this. The remaining five issues of the arc were tightly plotted, but in the document, this is the one which I left a lot open. I knew what I wanted to be, and it was a chance of finding an execution to make it work. It was a last chance to do a big concept issue.

(Which isn't to say there isn't conceptual stuff elsewhere in the arc. There just isn't a whole issue of it.)

This is something that I've been trying to do since issue 6. As in, a purely fan-centric issue of mainly talking heads. Every time, it's had to be cut for space. The talking heads shots of realistic footage, showing a lot of fans views on the matter. You get ghosts of it – any time Beth turns up, you get some, basically, but all of those moments could have been issues in another version of WicDiv.

(The one we won't be doing is the whole issue of literal talking heads. As in, Tara, Lucifer and Inanna just telling stories. That's fun, but we just don't have the time, and when I realised I had to stop them talking, it was definitely out. Oh, Minerva. You spoil everything.)

Equally, WicDiv's a book with two poles – the modern fan pop cultural part and the mythological grandeur. We swing one way or another, and it's easy for the latter to mug the former. I suspect that's because that's the easier stuff. Especially as Laura has gone down her hole, she's been incapable of seeing the good parts of fandom. An issue of that before the end, seemed necessary.

(Equally, with where it goes. Like, we start with Laura as a fan, and end with her on stage, saving people. The Bowie Saved More People Than Batman of WicDiv. It's a book about cycles, and ever more so here.)

So! The other side is this apocalyptic final scheme, and give a perspective on that – the necessary plot. Equally, keeping Laura off stage as long as possible.

So we end up with this.

I knew wanting to pick up and run with minor characters in WicDiv was something I wanted to do, and merging it with a disaster rapidly led to something else – this is clearly an inverted Watchmen 11. There, they gather the supporting cast together in the b-plot and then with a I-did-it-35-minutes-ago kill them all. We flip that. We imply everyone we're watching is dead, reintroduce the whole cast and then have Laura save them.

Suffice to say, formally, this was tricky.

Jamie and Matt's cover:

Meet Tom. We surveyed the whole supporting cast and picked someone who was present enough in a scene to be likely to be remembered but minor enough to be a surprise. In the end, there were less options... and the kid who asks Persephone about what to call her obviously has some strong thematic elements. She told him something. What did he make of it? It also gave a supporting cast of friends.

It's fun doing a cover like this and people going "who the hell is he?"

I wish he wasn't white and male – if I realised I was definitely going to use him in issue 24, I'd have likely have suggested otherwise. But, on the other hand, there is a point that white male guys should have heroes who aren't white male guys. So maybe I'm okay with it. Comics!

Claire Roe's Cover Well, this is monstrous. You do get the image of Minerva, like she's in Home Alone, trying to smuggle skulls. Just some great images here.

Ray Fawkes' Cover

For the Heroes Inititative Charity. The theme was "Giving" which immediately jumped to a "Lucifer giving an apple." Giving is very loaded for us. Ray is amazing – he's been an incredible support throughout all of WicDiv, and we love him. Go buy his books. My favourite is THE PEOPLE INSIDE, but for something more genre, the UNDERWINTER books are fascinating, horror. UNDERWINTER: SYMPHONY is the adult gothic sister of Wicdiv, if you squint.

IFC

Flipping "Ascended Fangirl" into "Descended God" was sitting in the script for this issue before anything else.

Page 3

Black page with white text is something that's come to the fore in the last year of WicDiv. In here, the exact word choice was key. While this feels like a documentary in terms of how it arranges information, the text doesn't tell you that. It tells you it's just footage. This means that it's not necessarily an in-world document.

Page 4-5

Working out the exact panel dimensions was a nightmare, and led to a couple of rewrites to move some pages from eight panel to a more accurate six panel. You can also see Jamie start to wrestle with the unique horror of drawing stuff that is slightly distorted, choosing angles which are less traditionally interesting and so on.

Unboxing videos are a fascinating phenomena. It's fun to see culture happen which I fundamentally don't get on an emotional level. That's what culture should throwing up.

The details on the ticket do make me smile, in an awful way.

Yes, the "change the orientation" panel is clearly us showing off. This is the sort of issue I did a lot of doodles for. It also led to a bunch of lettering challenges for Clayton, in working out whether to put balloon tails off-camera to signify the other speaker. In the end, Clayton talked us into the other approach, noting it worked fine in Mister Miracle. Hey, if Tom King does it, I guess it's fine with us.

It's worth noting the way the off-panel speaker is orientated, to ensure you know who they are. See the "Tom" in the dialogue in the second panel, to ensure you know it's Nathan.

"The front row if it kills us" is very us. This issue is a mix of awful tension and strokes of equally awful gallows humour. His smile is also adorable.

Page 6

Sometimes the most beautiful thing in the world is a page of exposition via the medium of power-point. We're all big fans of the 1960s kirby superhero maps, and this is kind of the same thing.

Page 7

This is also a masterclass in a "Naturalism is hard" sort of page layout. The choice of the greys by Matt is really nice too.

Page 8

And back with Tom and friends. Worth noting the planning on this issue – I had this list of scenes, and tried to work how much I can cut between them to create a rhythm, which obviously accelerates the further we go in.

"Shitting them whole"? Nathan is totally right. Tom, you re NASTY.

Trying to get a subplot which fit in the space for them is key. Like, friends navigating a space. That Tom and Nathan are both far from perfect in this is also important. I just realised this is totally an alt-dimension Kohl and Kid-with-knife scene.

Page 9

The greatest tragedy of WicDiv is we never got around to doing the WicDiv calendar with all the dates on. Will we get around to it for Christmas 2019? IT COULD BE POSSIBLE.

The problem in terms of story here is getting the multiple lies – Woden doesn't know what Baal has had him to do, and Baal doesn't know what Minerva is making him do. So trying to set that information up so is clear, while also in a naturalistic fashion is a trick.

We were having LOC CAPs on some of this footage, but decided to cut them all. Only some of them had it, and having it on them all would create a mess. This is the one I regret though – there's one tiny bit of information I'd like to have got in here. C'est la vie.

The colour banding on this is fascinating – the late night recording. Also, Jamie's burn on the calendar is golden.

Page 10

This was another one where the lines were worked hard. What happens BEFORE the image, what happens AFTER the image and all that.

Anyway, some good thinking here Tom.

The chat between the two, in terms of fans-beliefs and minor pieces, and hot takes and their own beliefs. Also re-introducing certain takes.

Page 11

This page is hard. The silent third panel is amazing – what Jamie does with the panning between the two. The caption would have revealed who's filming it – the Sister – but that isn't essential information.

"You soppy twat" is something I'm oddly pleased with getting in. It's a very naturalistic issue, and the tenderness is very real.

There has been a tendency for people to take Baal's fight against the Great Darkness solely to save his family, and understandable why. This scene and what follows shows that no, it's not just that. He actually believes he's saving the world, because if he didn't, he certainly wouldn't fucking do this.

Page 12

And Minerva reveals her side of all this. The little callback to 1373 does make me smile.

The stylistic nature of this is key – Jamie doing the fish-eye, Matt working the blues, giving that night vision creepiness.

Page 13-14

This issue was definitely me trying to look for ways for Jamie to not just draw a million crowd-scenes. The first two is definitely me lampshading it.

In passing, this two pages is basically all of Young Avengers in sixteen panels.

The last panel is a thing of love, and definitely inspired by a Glastonbury festival, circa 1998. I'm there alone, as it was one of the infamous wet years, waiting for Nick Cave to come on the main stage. A highly high and/or drunk guy stops beside me, after pushing through the crowd. He's clearly very excited, to the level where a group of younger women start to join in and/or mock him. He is very entertaining.

Nick Cave comes on stage, doing a half-speed From Her To Eternity.

"From her."

"To."

Eternity."

Murmurs Nick.

Our new friend hasn't actually noticed and howls at the top of his lungs...

"FROM HHHHEERRRRR TOOooOOOOOOooOOOOOOoo ETERRNNITYYYY!"

...at at least twice the speed of Nick.

At which point, he's decides he wants to be further front. Turning to the people around him, he suggests we all go forward. "Yeah?" "Yeah!" the girls scream, and immediately they all form a conga and start pushing through the crowd, with him chanting "NICK CAVE ARMY COMING THRUUUUUU!"

I join in, as clearly I want to follow this journey. It leads us to the front, where I believe I stay for the rest of the night?

On the way to the front I step on the shoe of a guy who, a year or two later, invites me to storm the stage on a Saturday morning TV show. I turn it down, and then he only goes and does it anyway.

Pop music!

Anyway, that panel is for that guy, wherever he is.

Page 15

Okay, I can't hold off crowd scenes forever. Sorry Jamie, but not too sorry, as this looks amazing. Matt pushing the controls completely into the red, with the distortions going on. This is everything. It's also the panel where the conceit of watching television is lowest – the panel shape is wrong, and it's unlikely a camera would be on Baal's mum on the top of the pillar... but they are deniably so, I suspect.

I look at this page and smile. This is some comics. Nice work, us.

Page 16-17-18-19

And we're off. This is... oh, god. There were diagrams for this, in terms of working out panel flow. There's multiple routes through the two pages, which cascade together. The backbone is the "Baal" story arc, across the diagonal on both spreads.

The second panel reads across both pages – notice the orange band leading you to the right – where a talking head explains what's actually going on at the gig, and why everyone is being immersed.

When you finish this row, you get the presenter giving the context for the remaining talking heads. On the first spread, you get a talking head talking answering the question... and then placing them in the crowd. When that ideas's been set up, in the second spread we have multiple talking heads answering it, which all gather around a single group shot showing them all by each other, unknowing. And then there's Tom, and his friends, mixed in, with Tom's own answer stumbling towards his own truth, and his friends together, joined in this.

I'm getting excited here, clearly, but this is some engineered machine monstrosity, and I love how it collaborates with the reader.

This made it a nightmare for the guided view on Comixology. We contacted them in advance, offering to help a little. In the end, I wrote my suggested route, and they went with it. Moving from a non-linear sequence to a linear sequence clearly changes it somewhat, but I think it keeps a lot of the percussion. So don't blame them, blame me.

Oh – I had a list of people to possibly include in this sequence, and selected from them. There's been some impressive attempts by readers to ID everyone. Clearly, I tried to signal who they were in their dialogue a little. My personal hero is the guy from issue 19 who saw Dionysus before Baph nabbed him. You're a fucking legend too, mate.

Tweaks we did was realising it was three hetero-reading couples on the first page, which was heteronormative. We changed that to avoid it. And, yes, that's Jon's mum.

The one I wished I could get in, but lost, was the guy standing to the right of Laura in Issue one, who jizzed to Amaterasu. His line would have been something like "I hope I enjoy this one as much as that time with Amaterasu!"

This is an awful book, in many ways.

20-21

And just let the awful moment linger. Do it naturally and show it. All that rush and then this. Once more, Matt Wilson for Eisners. The hyperbright is one thing, but the flicker on the aftermath another. And the hint of the giant in there is also carefully worked – it's something we needed there, but also was a small part of it. What was important just imagining all those people dying.

22

Inevitable Total Eclipse Of The Heart reference, the go-to song for ending WicDiv dance parties.

23-24

And then, after all that, we get this moment, building towards that final image of Laura.

Honestly, this got to me when Jamie first sent it to me in a burst into tears way. You've come a long way.

I also like the idea that Laura, before heading out, looked through all her stuff and decided "Yes, Hoop ear-rings are the look for saving 20,000 people."

Next issue is out on Wednesday.

Thanks for reading.

[agreekdemigod]

Coffee Whim

“Your designs are always so colorful.”

The brush traced a long curve in the canvas, lining in pastel colors the figure of a profile.

“Are you sure you don’t want any of them as your protagonist?”

The shadow must be done right, if he didn’t want it to look opaque. Light shades to enhance the curve of her cheeks and lips, curved in a peaceful smile.

“I wish I had such amazing ideas.”

Should he add a bit of orange at the tips of the petals? Or maybe at the base of the flowers. But then the colour would contrast with the blond of her hair and that just wouldn’t work.

The tips would be, then, but very slightly, as if the sunlight reflected in her curls.

“My eyes hurt a bit while watching it but it is indeed beautiful.”

Adding one last detail, Kaminari left the utensil in the table beside him, eyes fixed in his last piece of work, his breath uneasy as he watched nervously the face in front of him.

His brain hadn’t failed him this time. All the details were perfect, as if she was there in front of him, real and reachable.

The idea of calling his sister crossed his mind as the feeling of keeping it only for his eyes thickened in his chest.

Later, he would call later.

*

All his life, Kaminari has painted everything his mind provided.

His mother used to say she and his father had to run to stop him from painting the walls, at the time when “no’s” didn’t mean anything to him.

He was so small and still that didn't stop him from holding a crayon, even before he learnt how to walk without stumbling. And once his grandma bought him his first brush, he was unstoppable.

His sister only seemed to encourage him. Her bedroom walls were an explosion of colour, doodles of their garden, their family and just random stuff covering every inch from the base to where his tiny hand could reach. Their parents gave up soon after he decorated their own bedroom too.

They had another artist in the family, there was nothing else they could do to stop it. And in all truth, they didn’t want to.

The walls in the house were white but Denki brought them colour, just as he did with everything he touched and everyone he met.

His teachers said he had too much energy, that he was different. Some would tell his parents to find him activities to tire him up while others would state that he must learn to control himself, that everything could be solved with discipline.

The doctors gave his parents the name and a better way to deal with it and they accepted it as a part of the son they loved and cared about and heard attentively  the recommendations that would help their kid to integrate in a society not as comprensible as them.

They encouraged him and were with him with every step he took, ready to catch him everytime he fell.

Denki learnt how to play the guitar from his father himself, and went to his first art class thanks to his mother.

He learnt that drawing helped him with his ADHD and that listening to things was an easier way to memorize complicated stuff.

He learnt the tricks to control his anxiety and how to make his hands movements less obvious in public, specially after being hours sitting in a classroom with his mind flying miles away from the teacher's explanation.

It wasn’t perfect and most of the times he still got nagged by the adults for not staying steady more than ten minutes but he learnt to get used to that too, to shrug off the harsh words or stares, even when sometimes they hurt so much that he had the go to hide in his  mother's arms to find understanding

Things are inevitable in this world, she would say, pressing her cheek against his, her curls tickling Denki's skin.That close to her, he could smell her shampoo and the scent of coffee in her clothes. Things such as love and fate. And you, my dear, are one of those things. You are inevitable, Denki. Inevitable to love and impossible to forget and ignore. She would kiss his temple then and would caress his blonde hair with her nose as she whispered,

You are our star.

*

Denki loved coffee even before tasting it for the first time.

He loved the smell of it lingering on his house’s kitchen, the way his father seemed so happy while drinking it and the profundity of its colour, neither brown nor black and sometimes with a hint of gold.

And he loved its flavour, of course, the sweet and bitter taste of it against his tongue and the million ways it could be prepared and still taste so rich and contradictory.

He loved coffee and the way his mother would smile while preparing it, with the attentive stares of the three coffee addicts in the household on her, as they waited impatiently for it to be ready.

And he kept loving it, even after she wasn’t there to prepare it anymore.

*

“...now I have to find a new fucking job that isn’t a total waste of time and without a shitty pay.” Bakugou growled and Kaminari kicked a can in the middle of the street, doing it a couple of times more before picking it up, talking to the other end of the line as he did so.

“I mean, you could have let that old woman shout at you? I know it would have been shitty but at least that would have let you keep your job. It would be difficult to get hired at this time of the year.” The can clanked when he throw it in the trash bin, loud enough to rival Bakugo's rude scoff.

“And let that fucker continue her life without no one telling her how much she sucked? No way. I may have been fired but shit I don’t regret anything.”

Kaminari sighed but nodded nonetheless. He was right, this world sure needed more people that would face middle class woman to suck it up and stop acting as if everyone debt them something.

Bakugou started ranting again and Kaminari readjusted his grip on his backpack, heavy because of the new assignments and homework he didn't have the energy or motivation to do.

The second part of the semester had barely started and he could already feel the fatigue and stress of the upcoming final project.The fact that he should had started planning it weeks ago wasn't helping either.

And that's why he was there that day.

The tinkle of the doorbell of The Coffee Whim welcomed him as a feeling similar to homecoming replaced the anxiety on his chest and the warm and exquisite scent of the coffee filled his nostrils.

The place was rather small, with wooden floors and big picture windows towards the main street, sofas and rounded tables spread around in an organized disorder. The walls were surprisingly empty, though: only a poster of a porcelain cup and a cork board with coffee recipes hanging on the main wall.

“I'm saving the space for your works, dear.” The owner replied when Kaminari had mentioned it casually one afternoon. “Now, where is the promised portrait of my son?”

Denki had laughed before shrugging helplessly.

“He keeps running away everytime he sees me, how can I paint a kid like that?.”

Kaminari had known Mrs. Midoriya since the opening of the café. He had wandered there one night, back in his highschool days, in the middle of a sexuality crisis that had been eating him for the last year.

He must had been looking as pitiful as he felt because she had smiled kindly to his mumbling and added extra cream and chocolate chips to his order. Kaminari had loved her since then.

She wouldn't be there that time though, having getting married only a few days ago. Her honeymoon would probably last, at least, one more month, and Kaminari sure missed her as well as he was happy for her. (The premise was still open though which he was very thankful for)

The cafe was deserted that day, no sign of Mineta or any of the other baristas at the other side of the counter. They were probably in the kitchen, playing on their phones while enjoying the lazy day.

Instead, a black haired guy was behind the register, his black eyes looking uninterested at the numbers on the screen.

Kaminari stopped in his tracks when he got close enough to see his features. The guy wasn't someone he knew but there was something, like a sensation of deja vu in the back of his mind, that made him feel intrigued.

It had happened before, when he had met some of his friends, random people on the streets or even teachers.

Kirishima used to joke it was because they had met in another universe, maybe in a world of superheroes and villains( or in a medieval world depending on whatever Kirishima's mood that day was. They all had gotten use to his writer mumbling by that point.).

“Oi, are you still there, Denki?”

Bakugou’s voice brought him back, and the blond got suddenly aware of how strange he might look there, standing in the middle of the café while staring at an stranger.

“Just about to order some coffee before heading to the dorms, want me to get you something?”

“A macchiato.”

“Got it. See ya there.”

“Be quick.”

Kaminari put his phone on his hoodie's pocket, took a long breath and went right to the register where the guy hadn’t move an inch in the last minute.

The deja vu sensation stayed there, only increasing when the guy looked up and a pair of black eyes were directed at him.

Truth to be told, he looked miserable. That close, the blonde could see the bags under his eyes, the sick pale tone of his skin and a messy hair as if he hadn’t brushed it for three days straight. He also had one long strip hanging off his hoodie’s sleeve, for some reason.

And still, Kaminari could swear he felt like electricity, shivers of excitement going through his body, like the ones he had when inspiration strike him before painting a new work.

How strange.

*

“-do chai”

Sero stared at the yellow sun eyes for a long moment, his sleep deprived brain trying to focus on what the guy in front of him was saying, his senses still too numb to process  anything that wasn't the utter pain of his back, after a whole night sitting on his desk working on a groupal homework assigned a week ago.

The guy looked around his age, tho he was significantly shorter. He black highlights in his golden hair, a pair of very pretty eyes and a friendly smile, wavering with nervousness as Sero’s silence prolonged.

Oh right. Coffee.

God, he was such a mess.

“Ah, I’m sorry but could you please repeat your order?”

The guy's smile turned sympathetic, in that weird way a college student can recognise another of their kind and their suffering.

“A macchiato and a nevado chai, please.”

As Sero worked, his arms moving as if they had been programated, he could feel the guy's gaze on him. Golden eyes following his movements with careful attention. Evaluating.  

Had they met before? Sero couldn't tell, as tired as he was, but he was sure he would have remembered him. The guy was cute he couldn't deny that.

He was so going to regret not to try to start a conversation or getting his number, once he was wide awake again.

It would be for the best tho. It was too risky, he would probably said something that would ridicule himself, or even worse, something that could offend him.

So no hitting on that dude today.

Handling him his order, Sero looked at the names written in his messy calligraphy in both cups as they slid in the counter.

Denki. Katsuki.

Which one would be his name? The name Denki certainly fit him but who knows, maybe it was the other one. Guessing his name was probably the only thing he could do right now about this guy.

“It’s Denki” the guy said, and Sero blinked, realizing that he had been voicing his thoughts out loud for who knows how long. “Thanks for the coffee”

An small alarm voice started inside sero’s head as he watched the guy leave his cheeks itching in embarrassment.

Did he..?

No, he wouldn’t think about that right now. He just wouldn't,

Going to the kitchen to tell Mineta to get the fuck behind the counter (his break had finished five minutes ago), he noticed something by the corner of his eye, something long and white hanging of his right elbow, an strip of tape probably left by the twins before he got out of home that morning, as a reminder that he still had to fulfill his promise of playing with them that afternoon.

Shit.

His future self was going to regret so many things.

*

“...and he prepared the most amazing coffee, I swear. God, how can the same coffee taste so different? Kaminari's cheeks were flushed by the excitement as he moved his hands in big gestures, his sandwich longly  forgotten in the tray in front of him.

His friends listened in different levels of attention, torned between their own food and the blonde’s story. The college’s cafeteria wasn’t really full that day so they could eat without missing a detail of the story.

“Tastes better when the barista is hot” Mina said and Kirishima laughed immediately. Kaminari wasn't going to deny it. Only facts allowed here. And it was a fact that the dude had been very attractive, yes. Just like his coffee was really good.

“You say that because you haven’t try it, but I’m serious here. It is amazing.”

“I don't know it seems biased. What do you say, Bakugou?” Said Kirisha as he elbowed Bakugo's side, who had been hearing the conversation in silence. “You went there this morning, don't you?”

Kaminari felt his eyebrows rise in surprise. He didn’t know that. And he shared a room with the dude.

“The coffee was decent”

Decent. The group let out a choir of “oh”'s in appreciation. If Bakugou was saying that then it meant it had really been something else, in a good way.

“And the guy?” Insisted Kirishima, excited for an opportunity to gossip.

Katsuki shrugged.

“Rather plain”

Kaminari rolled his eyes as his friends giggled around him. “Sometimes I think you are made of stone or something”

“You told me he had a long line of tape hanging off his elbow.”

“And that only makes him cuter”

“Uh-huh.”

“Wait, why did he have a tape strip on his elbow?”

Denki shrugged.

“It was already there when I went. He looked pretty tired too, as if he hadn't slept more than a couple of hours. And I can tell because he looked exactly like Bakugou does right now, except for the frown of course, and more handsome.”

“Shut up, dunce face.”

“Why are you so meaaan”

As the conversation trailed to another topic, Kaminari turned his attention back to his sandwich, his stomach growling in annoyance for having ignored it for so long. Mina inclined a bit into him, her black eyes staring at him with interest. “You know, you never told us his name.”

Another shrugg. “He wasn’t wearing his name tag”  

Kirishima whistled, and suddenly all the attention was back at Kaminari. “The (still up to debate) handsome barista remains like a mystery” Bakugou barely blinked when everyone turned at him. “What nickname should we gave him?”

“Soy sauce”

“Rude. I suggest You-know-who.”

“And you call mine ‘rude’?”

“Tapey” Mina intervened, and everyone turned to look at her in silence before bursting again in complains.

“That is so lameee”

“And yikes.”

“Yeah, no cool at all.”

She had shrugged and gave them an small smile behind her smoothie.

“But it works better than yours, doesn’t it?”

They were willing to fight that. And they did.

*

Kaminari went to the café that same day once the classes were over. After the conversation with him friends at lunch, the mystery guy topic didn’t leave his brain for the rest of the day, his curiosity increasing as the hours passed.

The café was slightly less empty this time. Only three persons in line and two sit around at the tables. A friendly face was behind the register too.

 “What’s up, Shouji?” He said, once his turn came, not even five minutes later. Sometimes it was like the guy had six arms or something. He moved so fast, not that he was complaining.“Feeling better after your rest? How’s Tokoyami?”

 Shouji's eyes curved friendly, his mouth hidden behind a black mask with a toothy smile printed on it. ( It wasn't Shouji's style at all, too dark and edgy for that and Kaminari could bet that it was Tokoyami's, Shouji's best friend and roommate.)

 “I'm recovered but he insisted that I should use it in case there was some germ around.” he explained, pointing at the mask. “My own are dirty so he let me his, refusing to let me go out if i didn’t wear it.”

“Aw, you guys are cute.”

Shouji ignored his comment. “Anyways, what is you order today?”

 Kaminari smiled, trying to peek over Shouji’s shoulder to see if there was someone else behind the counter. It was impossible, the dude was huge.

 “Just a latte this time.”

 His friend nodded and gave him his change before going the kitchen’s entrance, his hands holding the door open as he peeked inside. “Hey Sero, we are almost out of milk, could you please take care of these orders while I go to the back and bring some?” Some incomprehensible words and Shouji nodded before disappearing inside.

 Kaminari's heart jumped inside his chest when he saw the tall black haired boy from the day before got out of the kitchen. He was yawning lazily as he tied his apron back to its place and his face shined with recognition when he saw the blonde there.

 Both guys blushed immediately. Their gazes trapped in each other for a few seconds before quickly looking away. It was an entertaining sight for the outsiders. And it would had been almost funny if it hadn’t been so lame.

 “Your name” said Kaminari, breaking the silence. It came softly, almost like a whisper but he would take it. Better that than a cracked voice. At the barista's confused expression, he explained “You weren’t wearing a name tag the last time.” Or today.  The realisation crossed the guy’s features once he looked down to his apron to see the empty space in the front of it.

 “I probably took it off before doing the laundry. My mind has been floating around these last days” Not the best choice of words. The guy’s blush got more intense. “It’s Hanta, by the way.”

 “Nice to meet you,” Kaminari said slowly, holding back a laugh at the guy distinct dorkiness, and trying to pronounce it carefully. “Hanta”

 Hanta nodded and went back to work and Kaminari allowed himself of taking a deep breath, fanning himself with his hands to soothe his blush, drawing on the fact he was opposed to him.

 Instead of going to any of the tables or sofas, Kaminari sit in one of the tabourets under the counter and waited for his coffee, trying not to stare too much at the barista and why he found him so fascinating.

He really didn't know why he was acting that way.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t had a real crush in years so his brain was overcoming it by making him act like a highschooler now that he finally has.  

Or maybe it wasn’t and Denki was just .

The twinkling sound of the porcelain cup interrupted his train of thoughts as it was left in front of him.

“Here it is, a classic latte.”  Hanta said, leaving as quickly as he came, ready to work on the next orders.

Kaminari didn’t pay much attention to it. He was still looking down at his coffee cup, where Sero had drawn a lighting in the foam.

Denki.

He waited until it dissolved before taking a sip.

*

As the bisexual disaster that he was, Kaminari took that as a sign to keep going to the café to talk more with the barista.

It started kinda awkward and timid, polite conversations made between breaks and orders as they both tested carefully the waters before taking an step.

Sero made a move first, asking for his number one night, just after Kaminari had finished his coffee and was ready to leave.

It was then when things started to move faster. Once they reached topics they were both interested in, all shyness was left behind.

Kaminari learnt Sero had his same age and that he was studying programming. He had three brothers, one older and two young ones, all boys.

 “I like to babysit the twins.” He said when Denki asked him about them.  “They are so different and at the same time so similar to each other. It just blows my mind.”

 Sero learnt that Kaminari had one older sister and that he lived with one of his best friends. He also learnt he was taking painting classes outside the university, in a total different academy, and that he had been doing it for fun since he was ten.

 “It is not like you stop once you know all the techniques” Kaminari had replied when he saw Sero's arched eyebrows. “You keep taking them because you just love them.”

 They both liked video games and anime, and despite not liking exactly the same genres of music, they were similar enough to enjoy it. And the same went with sense of humour.

“Obviously the pikashook meme wins over the galaxy brain one.”

“You say that because it is like the golden age for pikashook but once it is over you will forget it just like any other trendy meme. But the galaxy brain one is a classic. Totally superior.”  

 There were times where they prefered to be silent, though, not because they were tired of talking, but because they enjoyed each other’s company without interruptions.

 Kaminari used to observe him behind his coffee cup in those moments, taking mental notes of his features to sketch them later, without anyone to see it.

 His art teacher had peeked over his shoulder one morning, nodding in approval at his draft.

“A nice face, you should paint him next time.” Kaminari had nodded and excused himself to go right to his dorm, hype to tell Bakugou what a professional had said and that his opinions were invalid.

 At some point, it became a custom. Kaminari would stop by the café three or four time a week, (way more times he had visited the place in the last months) with the excuse of a coffee whim to tell Sero how his day went, the good and the bad anecdotes, brightening everytime he managed to get a laugh out of him and his heart expanding on his chest everytime he smiled at him.

So Kaminari kept ordering and Sero kept delivering,to the point that the coffee Denki had loved all his life became something even bigger for him. Something brighter.

*

Sero had watched Kaminari coming week after week for over a month now.

Sometimes in the morning, other times in the afternoon but thrice a week without fail, always carrying a backpack or a notebook. The days he wouldn’t they would chat until their phones ran out of battery or some of the blonde’s friend stole it because of the ‘bros before hoes’ rule (By Kaminari’s descriptions of them, they all sounded like awesome people.).

 There would be times where Kaminari would cross the doors looking like a normal college student, wearing a jean jacket, a hoodie or in flannel, and others where he would look like a total disaster, his ripped old jeans and simple shirt covered in paint and marker stains. (Sero would secretly prefer that one a lot, with his hair tied in a messy ponytail, paint stains on a side of his face and his eyes sparkling with excitement as he asked for the day’s special.)

 And he would always smile and Sero would be lying if he said he didn’t ask his grandma for more coffee tips so he could see more of that.

 “It is weird for you to ask me all of this in such a short period of time.”she had told him in one of their calls, just a pair of days ago. Sero had tried to respond but she interrupted him. “And it can’t be only for your job. Don’t they have their own recipes? It must be for a certain someone. And I don’t like the idea of my secret tips being shared with an stranger.”

 “I’m not gonna tell anyone, grandma, I will just prepare him the coffee.”

 “So there is someone!” He decided to end the call there before she managed to get more information out of him and decided to tell his mom.

 And just like that a month passed, with them talking over coffee cups and pastries, pretending it was something as casual as a friendship and ignoring the other's blush and secret stares, if only that bought them more time to not confess their feelings.

They would talk for hours until their voices got hoarse and his cheeks numb for how hard they had laughed, and once the night came Kaminari would say his goodbye and Sero would wave back, and they both will wait for the next time, looking forward for a conversation that hadn't happened yet, but they could imagine and replay in their head in such detail that it would be like a memory.

 *

And then Kaminari broke the chain.

 He had came one late afternoon, his hair even more messy and his shoulders dropped in surrender and Sero hadn't seen someone so miserable out of final exams season in such a long time.

 “Cure my sorrows and pain with your magical coffee, oh good sir.” The blonde had mumbled, with his face against the counter, in front of where Hanta had been drying a cup because of the lack of customers in line.

 Sero hadn’t said anything, he only stared at Denki for a few seconds before going to the coffee machine and return with a big plastic cup of a caramel coloured drink, with a lot of cream and syrup on top.

 “Drown them all.” He said as he waited patiently for Kaminari to gain enough strength to rise his head and take a sip.

 The impact was obvious. Denki's eyes opened in surprise as the mix of sugar and coffee exploded in his mouth and caressed his palate.

 “Jesus Christ, what is this?”

 Sero shrugged as if it wasn’t much, but the small curve of his lips betrayed his satisfaction.

 “Just an Arequipe.”

 The blonde shook slightly his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts, watching in astonishment the divine drink he was holding .“This is the first time I’ve tasted something like this”.

He could feel some remaining cream on the tip of his nose, but he couldn't care less. He would whip it later. “It is so sweet and cold. I’m about to cry.” He really felt tempted to, only to emphasize his point. “How did you know this?”

 “My grandma is colombian, and every good colombian knows their coffee.”

 “That’s awesome.” And then a question popped in his mind and he couldn't just not ask. “Can you talk in spanish then?”

 Sero had smiled before saying:

 “Un poquito.”

 It physically hurt Denki not to scream. Dear god. Could he get anymore perfect? He made a dramatic play of a heart clenching and Sero let out a muffled laugh, watching attentive how Kaminari enjoyed his coffee.

 “Back to your issue…” He said, after a long silence only interrupted by Denki's happy sighs.

 “Give me a second to put my thoughts in order. I can't even remember it right now. This has cured my everything” He took another long sip. “Wow. Okay, so humm, well okay, I will explain it all in detail so you can’t miss a thing.” licking the cream out of his lips, Kaminari took a long breath before starting.

 “I'm an animator student, and by the end of the semester we have this huge project where we write an script of a work of our own. It is not only an script tho, but a whole presentation of our story.” he explained, fidgening in his seat. “We write it all in a notebook, adding sketches of the places and the profiles and designs of the characters and it requires so many details and work to put it all together. It is like trying to put all your ideas in something real, in paper and ink.”

 Sero let out a long whistle. “Man, that sure sounds cool”

 “And it is! But it is also very frustrating because, what if i do it wrong? What if it ends up being the worst thing the teacher has ever read? I can't deal with this pressure, the ideas just don’t come.” Or not good ones, at least. “It is like I had lost the ability to create something that actually mattered.” Kaminari blushed, noticing how much he had said already. But the waterfall of words didn’t stop and they probably wouldn’t until he had said everything.

 “And everyone seems always so focused on my work, comparing themselves with me and I don't understand. I ve seen their works and they are all so lovely, so different to my own.” The blonde bit his lower lip, as his hands played with the now empty cup. “ And i thought i was okay with that, you know. With my style being so colorful and weird and unconventional.”

 The way he said it didn't make it sound like a compliment, despite that was everyone meant when they saw his works.

It never felt like it was one though, not even once,not for him.

 “Recently when I see my ideas I just-I just can't seem to find them to be anything else than that. I only see them as obnoxious and it is killing me.”

 Kaminari thought about his notebook of sketches, the art classes and the painting he kept in his apartment, hidden of the world’s eyes. “Because I do like drawing and creating. But now i wonder if that's enough. What can an artist do when they can’t create something that isn’t garbage?”

 And cut. Kaminari took a long breath as he tried to relax his fists, his fingers numb by how strong his grip had been.

Sero hummed, and the blonde gulped in anticipation. The black haired guy seemed to be thinking about his words, his gaze low as if he was lost in his thoughts.

“I certainly can't tell you if you are or not talented enough,” he admitted, “I haven’t really seen any of your works and to be honest I don’t know if my opinion has much importance when I barely know anything about art”

Kamina wanted to fight that. Because it would, at least for him.

“But,” he said, the tip of his tongue poking softly his upper lip, as he tried to find the correct words to express his point of view. “Sometimes what makes humans to create good things isn’t only our confidence or talent, because we could have any of them, or even both, and that wouldn’t garantize us to stop procrastinating and start doing things.”

“Without resolve, us, creators, are just nothing. Because we could have many ideas, the resources and abilities to make it happen, and it would still mean nothing if we just don’t get in front of the screen or paper and start working on it. Do you have the talent? That’s really good. Do you have ideas? That’s even better. You don’t need the approval of the rest to do what you love, then why would you need it while you are creating it?”

Opening tenderly Kaminari’s fisted hands, Sero traced with his fingers the marks the nails had digged in the soft skin, looking at the stains of graphite in Denki's fingertips as he spoke.

“Have confidence and resolve, and then you will immediately have the talent everyone always talks about.”

The blonde looked at his extended palms and Sero’s own placed gently on them. They were different. Sero's fingers were longer and paler, kinda bony even. His were smaller in comparison, with round nails and rough palms. The contrast was fun to look at.

“That's” said Denki, after a short pause,where he let go Hanta's hands so he could look right at his black eyes “...some pretty good advice.

He was met with a playful smile.

“Barakamon's wise words.”

“I really do need to read the manga.”

Sighing, Kaminari smiled, his eyes shining like liquid gold as he took Sero’s hands to hold them again, their palms facing each other above the wooden table. “Thank you.” he said and Sero nodded, looking at their intertwined fingers with an small smile on his lips.

“Always glad to help.”

*

“If you could change something about yourself, what would that be?”

“Like a possible change? Or something you aren't but you wish you were?”

Denki shrugged. “As long as it is a change”

It had been a few days after the last time they had seen each other. Since the night Kaminari had gone to vent about his studies, their interactions seemed to have changed. Not a lot, but definitely different from how it was before. There was a feeling of trust there now, as well as an slight vulnerability, than instead of scare them out, only made their bond stronger, knowing the other one wouldn’t use it for their advantage.  

They also touched a lot more too. they were starting to get more comfortable in getting into the other one’s personal space, as if the hand holding event had broke an unspoken restriction of physical contact.

And Kaminari had to admit, that he liked that.

Back to the present, Sero seemed to think a bit about the question before responding.

“My hairstyle, maybe? Mina keeps insisting that I should get an undercut asap.” (Yes, he knew Mina. Apparently they went to the same university. That’s why she had being so curious about his story when his description of Sero fit her friend’s looks. The world sure was small.)

Kaminari tried to picture him with an undercut and he found out that it was easier than he thought by how much it would suit him. His face would be more visible, changing his looks from relaxed fresh boy to mature and playful guy.

He would definitely look hot as fuck.

And people would start noticing it too, sadly.

“And why don't you do it?” he said, trying to sound unaffected.

“Because I'm scared of messing it up.”

Impossible.

“What about you?” asked Sero. “What would you change?”

Kaminari didn't hesitate. “I would like to have freckles.”

The blonde played with the spoon on his empty cup, his voice and smile going softer as if he was remembering something sweet, “My dad has them and so does my sister. I think I’m the only one that just wasn’t gifted with them.”

His mother had them too, around ten in every cheek. She had many more though, in the entirety of her shoulders upper arms. Like stardust.

A gentle poke on his face startled him.

“I think you have, though they are very tenuous.”Sero’s finger touched an small dot in Kaminari’s cheek, and then another one next to his ear. “More than freckles they look like tiny moles.”

There was one just above his upper lip too, just in the border of it and another one in the arc of his nose.

Hanta's finger caressed slightly the dots, following them all as if they lead somewhere, tracing an imaginary path in Denki's blushed skin.

The last one was next to Kaminaris right eye, that was widened in awe and embarrassment.

And alarm went off inside Sero’s head, too late as he registered his action and took off his hand out of Denki's freckled face. His own face flushing in an instant. “I’m sorry, I just-” He seemed as lost of words as the blonde himself.

Kaminari opened his mouth, his voice seemed to be failing him as his intense blush seemed to extend from his whole face to the tip of his ears.

“It is alright.” he finally managed to say, “It’s okay”

Kaminari tried to shrugged it off but the memory of Sero's eyes roaming over his features, his face so close to his that he felt his breath tickling his skin made him difficult to breath.

 It had been overwhelmingly private. And somehow, deleitable.

 Sero must have been thinking something similar because his face was getting redder as the minutes passed.

 “I think your coffee is getting cold.” he croaked and  Kaminari was suddenly aware of the few people who were also at the café and the messy notes and draws that he had left on the table, that were the main reason he had came today.

 Mumbling a quick thanks and a goodbye, Denki stuffed all of his things on his backpack, his mind reproducing the moment again and again, and thoughts about what would have happened if he had close the distance between them there.

 Yep, it was definitely time to go. He would tell him about his project next time he saw him.

 Or text him. That sounded a lot better.

*

“I think I’m falling hard” said Denki that night, after staring at the ceiling for two long hours. In the bed at the opposite side of the room, Bakugou muffled against the pillot.

 “For who? The plain dude from the café?”

“Okay first of all, he’s not plain. Have you seen those arms? Or that wide back? He has the most tender eyes too…-”

“I can see where your priorities are.”

“And secondly,” continued Kaminari “he makes the best coffee in town just so you know, so he's not just any dude from the café. He’s THE dude from the Café.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes and Kaminari sighed. That wasn’t even the point of all of this.

“I'm just saying, he's so nice and funny. And so considerate and he listens and…”

And he’s special.

Because he can give an amazing advice while referencing a shonen manga.

Because his laugh is so sincere and loud and joyful.

Because he makes this furrowed expression while he tries to decipher Mineta’s chicken scrawl and because he never really minds all the harsh complains some clients say unless it is something unfair or mean to his coworkers.

Because his jokes always make me laugh and because he gets all my vine references.

Because this is the first time I’ve feeling this strong about someone.

“I just don't feel like pretending we are only friends anymore.”

The sound of the sheats and the creaking of a bed made Kaminari turned his head, his golden eyes facing his friend’s red ones, both of their expressions neutrally serious as they looked at each other.

“I don’t fucking know. Have you tried asking Mina?

“I can’t, he’s her friend and she will embarrass me trying to organise a date or something”

Bakugou seemed to bite his tongue to hold back a biter reply. He closed his eyes before taking a short breath and said, his voice even and calm. “I thought you wanted to date him?” 

“I do!”

 “I understand no shit.”

 Kaminari blushed, playing to intertwined his fingers just as he always did everytime he was feeling shy or he talked about something too personal.  “But I want to ask him myself, you know. And also, I'm pretty scared. I haven't dated anyone since high school and you had seen how good things went back then.”

 Bakugou hummed in agreement and Kaminari waited for him to say something else, the knowledge that will solve all his problems, a new point of view he had myself that the genius Bakugou had sure catched.

 And then Katsuki said: “You are pretty fucked up.”

 Kaminari almost got up to kick him and demand a true answer. Only the love for his friend and his self-preservation stopped him.

 “Don’t you have anything else to say? I already know that.”

 Silence. Or Bakugo had fallen asleep or was actively ignoring him. And since it was pretty late and his friend hated to be woken up for littleness, it was probably the second one.

 But then Bakugo’s voice came very low, almost like a whisper, and Kaminari needed all his attention, to not miss a word.

 “If you really like that asshole as you say you do,” he started, his voice steady and calm despite the harshness of his words. “then why not risk it and just ask him out? I mean, wouldn't that be better than just staying around watching him without really having any right to do more? Only because you were too scared to risk it? If you have the opportunity to make a move, because you know it is mutual, then you should stop being a pussy and just do it.”

 They both remained still a few minutes, the words hanging above their heads in the silence of the room.

 He was right.

 And yes, Bakugo most of the time was but there was something now, not only in his voice but in his attitude, that made him look more mature, softer. Like if he talked from experience. Something had changed and Kaminari couldn’t tell what, how or when it had happened, but he sure liked it.

 “Thanks man” he said and Bakugou hummed again, followed by a long comfortable silence after, the one someone shares with a roommate before going to sleep.

 And then Kaminari interrupted it with “Hey, do you know that I have freckles”

 “I would say they are more like small moles.”

 “Yeah, he said that too!”

 Bakugo groaned against his pillow. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

 “I know right”

 “When the fuck did this become a fucking sleepover talk?”

 “The moment you gave me advice. You have exposed yourself, Katsuki. Now give me all those juicy gossips. I heard from Kirishima that there's this cute boy in your Ethics classe-”

 Throwing a pilow at him, his friend screamed and cursed, the mature and empathic Bakugo disappearing in a matter of seconds leaving the classic angry dandelion they all loved and appreciated, jumping out of the bed and ready to fight Denki to death.

 Kaminari’s giggles turned into peals of laughter once he saw his friend’s blushed face, and Bakugou started to curse even more colorful and louder.

They both ignored the protesting knocks on their door for the noise, as they played catch around the room as if they were kids, the atmosphere turning playful again.

 *

Unsurprisingly, Mina arranged a date even without Kaminari asking.

“I can’t keep watching you two dancing around each other any longer.” She had said, when Kaminari had sent her a fifteen seconds long audio of him screaming “WHYYYYYYYYY”

 “It is this sunday, 5.pm., in the east entry of the Amusement Park. And you better go or I will tell Jirou to kick your ass.”

 To be honest, she didn’t need to. Kaminari was definitely going.

 Sure, he was nervous and embarrassed as heck, but the idea of spending a whole afternoon with Sero, even if it was a fake date, made him shiver with excitement.do de

 An hour before the meeting, Kaminari looked at his outfit’s reflection in the mirror for the third time already. He had bought a new pair of ankle boots only for that and even managed to convince Mina to let him one of her furry coats, after many hours of begging and promises of taking care of it over his life.

 “Should I do something to my hair?” He asked Kirishima, who was laying on couch, watching lazily Kaminari’s efforts as he ate the last bag of potato chips in the apartment. Bakugou would probably kick his ass for that later but he didn’t seem to care much by his relaxed expression as he chew.

 “Nah, leave it like that. Makes you look kinda wild” Perfect, then.

 “Should I try cherry red or raspberry fuchsia lipstick?”

 “Go fuchsia, man”

 The make up were his sister’s, who had looked at him weird when he explained her why he needed it for. “Is it really necessary? It is only your first date with this guy.”

 Yes, it was. It was part of the deal.

 12:35: hey quick question, are we really doing that date this sunday

 12:37: Yeah why not, Mina was so kind in asking me out for you.

 12: 38: She said she was done. That we’ve been delaying it too much.

 12:42: The nerve of that girl

 12:43: Some people have never watch the teletubbies and learnt the important values of life and it shows.

 12:45: I can’t believe I got asked out through my friend who also asked out the other person in my name

 12:47: It is like a fanfic plot or something

 12.48: Where the dudes decide to fake date so their friends can let them in peace

 12:50:...and we were fake dating

 12:50: omg we were fake dating

 12: 55: what the heck does someone even does in a fake date

 12: 56: idk, act like they care? Or pretend that they do not care as much as they do, depending on the fanfic.

 12: 57: let's turn it into the next level then

 12:57: I’m listening

 12:58: Let’s care too much.

 It had been an hilarious idea, and they both had agreed on it,  but as Kaminari walked to their point of reunion he wondered if he hadn’t overdone it. Maybe the lennon sunglasses were just too much. 

 Act and look like if they were a pairing out of a cliche novel shouldn't be difficult but still, there was this tiny voice in his head that told him that maybe he had went too far, that he would scare Hanta away as all his other dates back then in high school.

 But Kaminari wasn’t backing away now. He knew Sero and they had made a deal. He would have to wait to see him to see if he was up to the challenge or if he did got scared.

 And he was not disappointed.

 Just as they had agreed, Sero had been waiting in front of the ice cream bus track that always parked in front of the Amusement Park, wearing a pair of ripped sky-blue jeans, a turtleneck without sleeves and a fedora to top it all. He was also wearing hipster glasses, the thick black frame positioned elegantly in the arch of his nose, as if they had been made for him. The blonde took a mental note about asking him about his outfit later. Because damn.

 The guy was good, Kaminari had to admit, but not enough to beat his raspberry fuchsia lipstick.

 “Sorry for the wait. Ready to go?”

 Sero turned, following the sound of his voice and Kaminari waited expectantly for a reaction, something in his face that told him that he liked the blonde's outfit.

 For a moment it looked like he was about to burst into laughs but Hanta composed himself quickly before smiling charmingly and extending right arm, offering it to the blonde to hold as they walked. Cheesy.

 “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

 *

The best thing about autumn was that there was a lot of breeze.

And not the cold winter breeze, that makes your cheeks itch and freezed your fingers, no. But the refreshing autumn breeze that carried leaves around and smelled fresh and clean.

 That afternoon though, the only thing Kaminari could smell was the snacks from the food stalls around them.

 Denki inhaled deeply as he watched intensely the cans he was supposed to knock down, at least two if he wanted a decent price.

The man running the booth coughed impatiently and the blonde put his best Bakugou resting bitch face while actively ignoring him.

He was about to win this game. The man could wait.

Sero smiled apologetically at the booth's owner before elbowing him softly between the ribs. “Do you know that we still have another games to try, don't you?”

 “After I get this one. I've almost done it”

 Kaminari closed his eyes, trying to gain all the concentration before he directed his throw at his targets, with the confidence of a winner.

The luck was on his side.

The two cans that he needed fell to the ground, one of them knocking the other one as it fell, and the blonde smiled to the sound of the bell announcing his victory as the man told him to choose his price.

 “A well earned plushie for you” Denki said to Sero, handling him the small stuffed animal of a fluffy grey chinchilla hanging from a keychain.

 Sero received it with a wide smile, before hanging it from one of his belt loops. “Just for now, so I don’t lost it.” he explained. “This little guy would look perfect in my backpack.”

 Humming happily, Kaminari scratched ‘win a plushie for him’ off his to-do-list, satisfaction filling him as he took Sero’s hand on his.

 Kaminari couldn’t deny it, he was excited. He kept looking around, searching for activities to do together, trying to complete all the things-to-do in the least time possible.

 His eyes sparkled when he saw another objective, Another point of their list that they still hadn’t achieve on sight.

 Holding Sero’s hand to make him stop, Kaminari pointed a photo booth some meters behind him, the shiny lights glowing brightly, as if telling them to come inside.

“We gotta immortalise this moment,” he explained, while dragging him inside. “you don’t know when you will have another opportunity of having a fake date”  

Hanta laughed as he watched Denki’s fingers roam over the buttons and options, choosing some before changing his mind and choosing again.

 “Just choose the one the corniest one.”

 “I'm trying to do that but I want them to match with my outfit.”Kaminari hummed before selecting one. “Okay this one is the one. May you do the honours?” He asked, pointing the button that would confirm it all and started taking the pictures.

 They decided to get three pictures each once it was over.

 “You can choose first.” Sero said, before pointing at the chinchilla hanging of the loop of his jeans. “You just won me this, it would be only fair”

 “You bought me cotton candy before. We are technically even”

 “Look at this little guy, and tell me he definitely isn't worth more than cotton candy.”

 Kaminari didn’t need to look at the small puff the chinchilla was, with its tiny ears and black eyes, and its long and fluffy tail to know that it was the cutest thing he had ever seen.

 “You made a damn good point.” He said before giving Sero the ones remaining and saving the other three in the pocket of his furry coat.

 “Now let’s get in the line for the rollercoaster again, the one who screams first buys the other one a hot dog.”

 “Deal.”

*

 “You know if this wasn't a fake date then we should probably  have gone and eaten something for dinner before the food stalls close up.” Sero said, once it started to get dark. Instead, Kaminari had looked at the red sky, orange and yellow mixing as the sun descended on the sea, and nodded his disagreement.

 They had time and there was something more important to do now.

 “This is a fake date” the blonde reminded him, pointing at the attraction in front of them with decision. “so, as the fake-dating-rules say, we shall get advantage of the sunset and go and watch it in the ferris wheel.”

 Sero had looked at the ferris wheel, its colorful lights  and the small line for it, before looking back to blonde, whose eyes were shining at the idea of getting up there, the excuse clear as water.

 “Everything just to follow the fake dating rules.”

 Kaminari smiled like a kid who had just received a candy.

 *

 To be fair, the fanfics had a point in using the ferris wheel for the climax of a date.

 Sero had to admit the view from the top was pretty breathtaking. All the attraction’s lights and the people gathered around them under the orange sky. He could have appreciate it more though, if Kaminari hadn't been poking him in the leg every time he saw an All Might through the car's window as they ascended more and more.

 “Have you notice how many kids are obsessed with All Might since the new season came out?” He had said earlier, when they had come across a group of children wearing the superhero costume. “It sure does bring back memories.”

 Sero’s thoughts got interrupted by another poke from Denki, his eyes not moving from the window as he searched for the distinct blonde hairstyle amongst the crowd.

 “Oh, there's another one.” Poke.

 Hanta guy looked at the boy's features. The sunlight illuminating his face, turning his eyelashes and hair pure gold. It was entrancing,

 He looked at the curve of his cheekbones, the small moles spread around the smooth skin and those raspberry colored lips that seemed to never stop smiling.

 Sero wondered when it had been the last time he had been that immersed in someone to notice such small details, and to like every one of them.

 Never, his brain responded, you’ve never fallen this hard.

 If he kissed Kaminari right now, just as when they had joked before getting in, would the boy react well? Would he freeze in surprise, his body stiffening as Sero inclined to hug him? Would he kiss him back? His pretty eyelids closing as his tongue dance with his own?

 He could. do it right now and find out. Less than thirty centimeters. He knew he wanted to, he had wanted it for a long time, but the idea of Kaminari rejecting him fueled his hesitation.

 Kaminari poked him again, pointing at the window with a wide smile.

 “Look there's a mini Eraserhead too!”

 Hanta sighed and saw the blonde's eyes sparkling like stars, just as every time he got excited by something.

 No, Sero wouldn’t do any move today and that wasn’t something bad

 After all, Denki always was a beautiful sight.

 *

 After that one attraction they decided they couldn't delay their hunger any longer. 

 Their stomachs complained loudly, as a reminder that they hadn't received any food since lunch and Kaminari told him he knew a shortcut to the nearest McDonalds.

 They got lost because who would have thought the same streets would look so different at night?

Apparently not Kaminari.

 *

 The cashier barely blinked when she saw them: two young boys dressed as vintage models, looking exhausted and ready to faint from starvation at any moment.

 Kaminari went to search for a table as Sero ordered, releasing himself of the boots once he spotted a free table near the corner.

 Checking his phone as he reclined his tired back against the cushions of the sofa, Kaminari unlocked his phone. It had stayed forgotten in his pocket the whole day. He had many messages from Mina(demanding him details about how the day went), a pair of Jirou and even one of his sister, who was asking him when he was free so they could have quality siblings time together.

 He didn’t have any intention of answering Mina’s (at least not right now), but he answered Jiro’s and his sister’s before putting it back to his pocket, where he felt the smooth texture of the paper against his fingers.

 Kaminari looked at the pictures they had taken on the photo cabin earlier that day, both of them smiling and doing silly poses and expressions. Each of them funny and completely unique.The last one was his favourite though. A picture of they laughing while looking at each other's eyes, totally lost in their own private joke.

 Sero appeared a pair of minutes later, carrying a tray with their orders.

 “So, a Macnificent, a Big Mac, two big portions of fries and one milkshake to share.”he said, holding two straws up so Kaminati could see them.

 The blonde smiled cheekily, an eyebrow playfully raising as he looked at the straws.

 “Damn it, boy, you really want to get in my pants, don’t you”

 Hanta laughed, his eyes shining with amusement behind his glasses.

 “Oh right I've been wanting to ask you, where did you get those glasses?

 “They are actually mine” Sero explained as he took a bite of his burger. “though I mostly use them at home.”

 “You wear contacts all the time?”

 Sero shrugged. “I used to play volleyball in high school, so I had to get use to them.” He quirked his nose as if remembering something painful. “Volleyball and glasses aren't a good match.”

 Kaminari cleaned his hands in the napkin before direct them to Sero’s glasses. He pulled them off and then on again, humming thoughtfully as he watched the other guy's face.

 “It is weird, no, not weird, but seeing you with glasses… I don't know it feels different.”

 “You know I'm nailing the Jeff Goldblum look”

 “Blasphemy.” Kaminari said before nodding appreciatively.  “But seriously, it isn't bad. think I actually like it.”

 “I can't believe you when you are wearing Barney's furr.”

 “Tell that right to Mina's face.”

 The guy arched an eyebrow before pointing at Kaminari’s mouth.

 “Is the lipstick also hers?”

 “My sister's. It was this one or cherry red. I look amazing in both either way.”

 “Woah you sure took your time to choose your outfit, huh”

 Denki rolled his eyes.

 “And you are telling me you didn’t? or is that turtleneck  yours?” He snatched playfully the hat, Sero's smirk turning wider as Kaminari put it over his own head “And the rest?”

 Sero snickered and sipped through his straw before nodding. “We may look extra but that isn't something bad” He looked so happy and relaxed there that Denki’s heart couldn’t help but flutter in his chest.

 Christ, this guy was too much for him.

 “We do, indeed.”

 *

 After that, they walked on silence to the bus stop, hearing the sounds of the street once the night was on its full.

 Kaminari had given up on the boots, not willing to put them on again after freeing his feet, so he was walking on his socks now.

 “At least until the bus arrives”, he explained to Sero’s exceptical look, “No way I’m walking bare feet on that cold metal.”

 That had been once they got out of the restaurant. They were in silence now, the knowledge that the date was close to its end hanging heavy in the air.

 “I had fun today” said Sero and Kaminari smiled back at him. He had smiled and laughed so much that day that only by doing that  his cheeks hurt. How cool was that?  A lot. A hella lot

 “Yeah me too, I gotta thank Mina later for this”

 He could already see Mina’s knowing-all smile, and her cheeky attitude once he told him how it all went. The worst part is that he really wanted to share it with her. She could be kinda nosy sometimes but she was always there when you need her. Kinda like a heroine.

 “What did she say to you to convince you?” Kaminari asked, not even trying to hide his curiosity at that point. The whole day had been a ride (both figurative and literally.) and he was too tired to pretend right now.

 “Isn’t being Mina enough?” Sero said and Kaminari nodded in an unspoken “Touché”  as the silence sunk between them again.

 At least until Sero asked suddenly. “Why do you think she had to convince me?”

 The world seemed to stop then.

 Kaminari gaped at him, his mind suddenly blank and his cheeks burning. His mouth moved automatically, the words leaving his tongue in an instant.

 “Let’s go on a date again.” Both of them blinked at each other and Denki explained quickly: “Not today, of course! I meant another day, you know, without all of this fake dating thing.” Biting his lip nervously he said: “As ourselves.”

 He could hear his heartbeats as he waited for an answer, playing with his fingers as he saw Sero’s mouth move in response.

 “Bold of you to think I haven't been myself the whole day.”

 Kaminari arched an eyebrow, then looked at Seros exposed arms and then back at his face. The guy snickered. He had been obviously kidding, the idiot. How dare he, didn’t he know how nervous he-

 “Alright.” Sero said, shutting any complain up inside Kaminari’s head. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

 Hanta’s hand reached for his own, playing gently with his fingers before intertwining them and his smile was blinding and beautiful and Kaminari wondered why it took him so much to ask him out, thanking Mina a million times in his head.

 “This time for real.” Sero said and Kaminari nodded. He couldn’t wait.

 *

 “Dude,” said Kirishima “this universe is so good.”

 Kaminari spinned even faster on his chair, the world turning a blur around him. He was feeling particularly anxious that afternoon, which wasn’t contributing to his creative mood. An that was the main reason he had stayed in his room that day, instead of going to the café as always. To finish the rough draft of his project.

 That had been the plan but...

  “They are not gonna end up together, aren't they?” Kirishima asked and Kaminari winced internally. No, he didn’t plan to. They were only friends, their romantic partners weren’t going to appear until a few more events later.

 “Please, tell me Elysia isn’t going to die.” She was already an orphan, no way he wasn’t giving her a happy ending.

 “Aren’t you asking too many questions?” Bakugo frowned in confusion, pointing with his chin at the rest of the papers gathered around the carpet. “Isn't it all draw and written there?”

 “Yes, but there’s parts that aren’t complete” Kirishima said as he handled the notes to Katsuki.“It is so good”

 “It is still a work in progress,”Kaminari explained, as he stand up to open the window. So many spins had made him feel nauseous and he needed some fresh air to calm down a bit. There was also another reason, but he tried to ignore it “Just some ideas written around. I don’t even have a main character yet.”

 “How is that possible? Dude, you have no idea how much I love it, I’d write a 34k fanfic about this, I’m dying to get to know more about this world.”

 The fact that it was Kirishima the one saying that just made Kaminari’s anxiety grow stronger on his chest.  He hadn’t been planning on showing it to his friends yet. Specially not Kirishima. They had just bursted in the middle of it, holding a bag with soda and snacks and declaring it a movie night.

 And he was happy to see them, he always was, but he felt like he needed some time for himself for now. To create and think. And definitely not dealing with the pressure of his work being examined by his talented and creative friend.

 “You don't have to compete with his ideas or do the same thing you know.” Mina said and Kaminari felt ashamed instantly, despite probably not being his fault at all. She was just too good at reading people.

 The girl was looking at him from her position in the bed, far enough so the other two couldn’t hear them. “He doesn't really realises how intimidated people can get just by hearing his opinions, despite them being always positive. He’s that dense about his talent.”

 Mina looked at the guys, to Bakugo’s thoughtful expression as he read the profiles of the characters and Kirishima’s excited chatter, showing the spiky blonde some of the landscapes Kaminari had draw.

 “But the same goes for you.” continued Mina and Kaminari looked back at those black eyes, which looked at him with sincerity. “Believe me when I say we all admire you as or even much more than you admire us. You create such pretty things, Denki. And you bring them all to live with only a pencil or a brush and it is amazing. Like, really amazing.”

 “We also know you had been having a creator’s block since some weeks ago.” Kaminari blinked at that, honestly surprised. He had tried to act like it hadn’t been bothering him but it seemed nothing went over his friends’ heads. Specially when you have someone as observant as Bakugou as your roommate. “Just don’t be scared in telling us your artistic problems, okay? We may not totally understand them but we want to be there for you. For everything.”

 “I will, I promise.”

 The pink haired girl smiled and layed totally down on his bed, pointing at the two other boys, who were still talking about the project. “You should try to add Sero to the squad you know”

 “Oh my god, Mina.”

 She shrugged. “If you won’t do it, I will.”

 And the worst thing was that Denki actually knew she would.

*

Sero looked at the board without looking, his fingers tapping softly against the desk, in an imaginary rhythm only he could hear. In the front of the classroom the teacher was explaining something that sure would come in the exam but he had given up on trying to pay attention long ago. (He would have to ask his friends to send him their notes later, the audio he was recording wouldn’t be enough.)

There was only ten minutes left for the class to be over and still it felt like forever. Sero sighed as he unlocked his phone, not even bothering in going unnoticed.

 1:20: Hey, do you like sushi?

 1:23: is that where you are gonna take me today? ;)

 1:23: Yeah, I like it. Let's go for Bubble tea at some point too

 1:24: And pair it up with donuts :sparkle: :sparkle: :sparkle:

 1:25: you know me ;*

 “Who’s that?” Sero startled in the middle of his response and Satou hummed, peeking over his shoulder while trying to read what was on the screen.“Your girlfriend?”

In the seat on his left, Ojiro snickered.

“Don’t you know?” he said, reclining in his chair in the seat on his left as if he was telling them a secret. “He has a date today”

 His friends let out a choir of whistles that turned into laughs when they saw Sero’s irritated expression.

 “So that’s why you had been distracted the whole class, uh?” Hanta rolled his eyes despite the assumption being absolutely correct. But they didn’t need to know that.

 The bell rang and the teacher dismissed them all with a nod and Sero used the opportunity to fled off the classroom, not willing to give any more details to his friends that they will sure save for blackmail him later.

 The day was sunny, which was weird, being winter so close, but Sero enjoyed the warm sunlight as he walked to the meeting  point, his heart beating strongly in his chest with anticipation.

 Kaminari wasn’t there yet, which wasn’t a surprise. Sero had noticed that the blonde always seemed to be running to get on time to his meetings. He tended to get distracted very easily and once he realised how much time has passed, he was already late.

 Sero spotted Kaminari as he turned a corner, watching him waiting for the traffic light to turn red before crossing the road.

 No ankle boots, lennon glasses nor raspberry lipstick. Just the classic Denki, with his hair tied up in a ponytail and wearing a jean jacket and a simple t-shirt, looking as excited and nervous as he felt.

 A date as ourselves.

 It wasn’t that unplanned tho. They would go for sushi and watch a movie. Hanta had already bought the tickets, two seats in the middle row (not too close, not too far) for the 10PM play.

 In the meantime they could do whatever they wanted.

 “Let’s go to the arcade,” Kaminari said, once they got out of the restaurant. They spent two hours there before getting bored and that’s when they started suggesting places to go, dismissing the ones that would take too much time for another occasion.

 No to the zoo, yes to the karaoke.

 Who would have known that Denki knew a respectable list of 70’s songs?

No to the ice skating parlor, yes to abandoned house near the park.

 It was all laughs and fun until they found a creepy doll. They ran their asses outta there.  

 “I feel like eating ice cream” said Kaminari, once they got near the beach, the colourful light of the Amusement Park shining in the distance. Sero was following some steps behind him, feeling the breeze against his skin and revolving his hair. He felt tempted to take his shoes off and submerge his feet on the sea, hearing the sound of the water splashing with every step he make.

 And then he looked up to find Denki doing exactly that. He was already calves in, his jeans rolled up so they didn’t get wet as he jumped around.

 “What are you waiting for?” He said and Sero shook his head to him, not even trying to hold back his smile. Because, of course, Denki had had the same impulse. Sero would never get tired of discovering the puzzle Kaminari Denki was.

 Leaving his converse next to Denki’s, Hanta ran to the sea, the cold water caressing his skin as he joined the blonde.

 *

Hours later, they were still on the beach, throwing rocks at the sea and competing to see who throw it the farthest. The conversation had died a while ago, both of them enjoying each other’s company under the starry sky.

Kaminari wasn’t paying much attention to the competition though, because right there, sitting that close to Sero on the sand, he could see every feature of his face, from the tip of his ear to the curve of his chin.

 Bakugou’s comment echoed inside his head. “Plain”.

 “Oh, shit our movie is starting in half an hour” Hanta said, when an alarm on his phone ran off. He didn’t rush Denki as he put his shoes on though, waiting patiently as the blonde shook the sand out of his jeans. “Do you think we have time to get some bubble tea on our way there?”

 Yeah, Denki still couldn’t see how an smile like that could have any of ordinary.

 “There’s always time for bubble tea.” He answered and the taller guy chuckled, holding his hand as he lead the way to the mall.

 *

Sero’s stupid jokes and Denki’s obnoxious laughs almost got them kicked out of the theater, almost an hour later. They didn’t care though, they were too busy eating the donuts they had hidden in their clothes, sugar powder falling falling on their jeans and covering their cheeks as if they were kids again. Indeed, a perfect date.

 *

Following the map on his phone, Sero took a moment to compare the address before entering into an small neighbourhood. White and beige houses were displayed in order with mailboxes with the family names written elegantly on them and Sero stopped in front of the only house that was breaking the silence, and that coincidentally matched the address that Mina had sent him.

 The sound of the drums was loud and probably the reason no one answered the doorbell, so Sero found himself following the tunes through the already open doors of the garage and hoping it didn't count as trespassing. And by the sight of the animal print backpack dropped in one of the wooden chairs of the garden, Sero knew he had found the right house.

 Mina had failed to mention that there would have been more people there too. (And it had been on purpose, Sero could tell, after spotting Denki in a corner of the garage, casually playing the guitar as he heard his friends yelling beside him.)

 “You gotta get the tempo right! Have in mind that they all will follow you, idiot.” screamed one of them, an ash blonde guy with a frightening scowl and angry red eyes.

 “I know!” The guy in the drums responded, a redhead with strong arms and a sprightly smile, that didn’t even flinched when the blonde slapped the back of his head, as if he was used to it.

 “Then why do you keep accelerating, you dumbass!” growling, the blonde turned to Denki, noticing Sero’s presence by the corner of his eye.

The sudden silence made the other two to look up to his direction, the spiky redhead barely raising an eyebrow as Denki’s eyes widen in stupefaction.

 “What are you doing here?” Denki asked when he approached him. He was smiling though, and Sero felt his body relax under his golden gaze.

 “Mina forgot his speaker and told me to get it for her since I was still at uni.” Sero hold the bright pink device up so Denki could see it. “What was all of that?”

 Denki smiled sheepishly, his gaze turning at his friends.

 “do you see the spiky redhead there? That’s Kirishima. He usually plays the bass but suddenly he decided he wanted to try the drums.” Hanta looked at the boys who were back at their bickering. “Bakugo’s been trying to teach him but he’s too impatient. Mina got tired of them so she went to the kitchen for snacks.” he explained. “Give me a second I will go for her”

 Sero felt the gazes turn at him once more after Denki disappeared behind a door. They didn’t say a thing though, they just stayed there evaluating him in terrifying silence while Hanta did his best in trying to ignore them. Denki used to look at him like, before they exchanged numbers and stories.Sometimes he still looked at him like that.

 “Sero!” exclaimed a feminine voice and Sero barely had time to blink before a body collided with his and hold him in a tight hug. Mina’s pink curls tickled his neck and Sero chuckled as she released him as fast as she had came. She had already taken the speaker out of his hands before he could say a word. (It wasn’t really a surprise to find out she was already friends with Denki. They both had the same chaotic energy, Sero was more surprised he didn’t take it for granted.)

 What happened after that was a blur in his memory. Sero had mentioned something about going back and suddenly Mina was shoving Denki by the wrist at him, saying something about their houses being in the same direction before pushing them both out of the garage and closing the door behind them with an slam.

 “Do you tend to do this a lot?” he asked, once he recovered. Denki’s guitar wouldn’t fit on his bicycle so Hanta was leading it as they walked, his eyes fixated on the pavement in front of his feet.

 “We are approaching finals so we wanted to release some stress making noise before starting again.”said the blonde “Sometimes when we are all free we give small concerts.”

 Hanta turned his head to him so fast he nearly strained his neck, his mouth falling open in shock. “You are kidding me”

 Denki tried to hold back his smile by biting his lower lip instead. He seemed kinda proud as he talked. “I’m seriously not. Kirishima’s uncle has an small bar and he lets us play there from time to time.” He turned in a corner and Hanta followed him. They had already passed the avenue that leaded to his own home but Hanta didn't care, he was enjoying the company. “We are trying to find someone that knows how to play the music keyboard so if you are interested, just tell me.” He winked, jokingly and Hanta seriously considered telling him that he actually knew the basics only to see his cheeks turning a cute shade of red.

 Denki stopped in front of an apartment building and suddenly the atmosphere was heavy again, crowded in unsaid questions.

 “We are here” the blonde said, and Hanta wanted to believe his hesitation was because he didn’t want to say goodbye either. Not yet. “is your house near?”

 “We may have passed it already.” Hanta confessed and since he was already doing that, he decided to risk it, trying to ignore his heart throbbing like crazy inside his chest. “I just wanted to expend some more time with you.”

 Denki gaped like a fish for a few seconds, his eyes not meeting his as he opened the door, the invitation clear in his tone as he said, “What about a movie then?” and before Sero could say something he was already inside, and the taller guy could swear he saw a hint of redness in his ears.

 The blonde’s apartment was on the second floor and it was bigger than Hanta expected, enough for two people to live there without feeling like trapped in a cage. It’s interior was red brick, with a white ceiling that matched the rug that covered the center of the wooden floor.

There were two beds, at the opposite wall of the entrance door, and two personal wardrobes next to each one. A white door was between them, probably the entrance of the bathroom, and windows in the sidewalls.

The small living room was formed by a green sofa, a beanbag and a desk in each sidewall, with two shelves above each of them.  

 The blonde had told him that he shared the place with Bakugou, so Hanta was expecting his side to be kinda rough, something that was a resemblance of his attitude.

Intead, Bakugo's side was impeccable, and it was Kaminari's side the one that looked chaotic, painting utensils, clothes, manga and papers were scattered everywhere, as if it was a tornado’s doing.

 But the most noticeable thing was the canvas that was displayed on the sofa, a painting of a woman with her eyes closed and flowers in her hair, her golden curls adorning a face covered in freckles.

 “She's my mom” Kaminari said and Hanta noticed that while he was there daydreaming, Denki had already picked everything up. “It is my best painting so far.”

 And he might not said it, but Hanta had the feeling that it was also the most important for him.

  “You look a lot like her.” Hanta said and Kaminari smiled, trying to ignore the ache he felt on his chest, a pain he felt every time he saw the painting.

It was a bittersweet feeling, of having someone you lost in front of you, so detailed and perfect and still, finding it lacking: no trace of the sound of her laugh, the shine of her eyes, the tinkle of her voice as she called him and his sister for dinner.

It was empty, and still, it managed to fool his eyes.

 “I get that a lot.” Denki responded. “It seems I took a lot after her and my sister after my dad. I don’t have the curls or freckles tho, as you can see.”

 In all honesty, Kaminari forgot the painting was there, he had gotten used to think it was inside his closet, hidden of the world and his own eyes. But his sister had com to visit the day before and he knew he couldn’t not tell her about it, between her visit, that lasted until midnight, and the early band practice from today, Denki had forgotten everything about the painting,that was there in the middle of his sofa for everyone to see.

 Sero hummed thoughtfully before asking,“And why the flowers?”

 The question shouldn’t have hurt so much.

 “They are lillies. She loved nature. Our whole house looked like a flower shop, we had so many plants there.” It still did. His father never stopped taking care of her plants, no matter how tired he was after a full day of work. His father, who had to raise two children alone and that drinked tea instead of coffee since she passed away. “She didn’t seem to have a favourite though, so I had to do my research on them to decide which one I should choose.”

 He didn’t dare to ask his father if she had a favourite plant. He was the man that lost his heart but kept living nevertheless.

The love story of their parents always amazed him. A college girl who met his future husband in a beach concert. A guy that played in a rock band  and that fell for the girl whose arms were covered in flower tattoos, petals and leaves decorating her skin.

 “Yellow lillies are beautiful and elegant.” explained Kaminari, brushing softly with his fingertips the painted  blossoms.“They also symbolize thankfulness and desire of enjoyment. There’s people who associates them with negative meanings, bad luck, falsity, as well as happiness or joy.” Kaminari wondered what kind of face he was making. Was it reflecting the homesickness he was feeling?  “I decided to stay with desire of enjoyment. Because my mom was like that, free and soft and extraordinary.”    

 Their mom told his sister that falling in love with their father was easy, that she felt so quickly that it was alarming. And that still, she felt no fear, because her love was bigger than it. A love like that. So big, so deep. So easy.

 It sounded like a fairy tale and still, he witnessed it, how they were around each other. As if they were about to burst into a musical at any moment,

 “Disgustingly in love”, would say his sister, always smiling.

 “She sounds like an amazing person.” Hanta said, and Denki blinked away the tears he didn’t know that were gathering in the corner of his eyes.

 “She was.” he agreed and then he added, “I still can’t decide which one of you makes a better coffee though.”

 *

 Sero looked at the calendar and counted again the days he had left until his deadline. Almost a month. Then he counted the days he would need to study for his other exams, the homework he still had to do and the courses that would probably leave him more. That leave him with two weeks more or less. Two weeks to finish the prototype of a videogame for the most important course of the semester.

 He should have started it already. Actually, he had but he didn't plan on using that first attempt as his final work. So he was behind the schedule, but it was alright, because he would rather sacrifice some nights of sleep now than later, he would the energy once exams arrive.

 It wasn’t a pleasant thought, tough.

 Maybe if he finished on time he could ask Denki out again, maybe this time to the zoo, or any of the other places they had agree to visit another time, in their latest date.

Sero knew it would be impossible. By the time he’d finish, exam's week would had already started, and Denki would be busy with his own exams as well. Hanta hoped he wasn't as stuck as he was with his project, because the blonde had been sending him his ideas for already three weeks and Sero thought that it would be a shame if he didn’t see the end of that story.

What was the advice he had told to Denki, around two months ago, about being a creator?

 “Have confidence and determination and then the talent would bloom” Hanta whispered to his ceiling. Or something amongst those lines.

Where did that come from? Definitely a moment of inspiration, Sero couldn’t imagine himself saying something like that again, not even in his best pep-talk.

 But he did, once, and Denki had believed him and the prove of it wa sthe pictures he had now of his phone, sketches and messy notes that created new worlds by themselves.

 Finish on time. Do it right.

He didn’t need to choose between them if he made other decision instead.

 Sighing, Hanta picked up and dialed the numbers of the Coffee Whim.

*

“It is finals week in our uni” Shouji said when Kaminari had asked him about Sero's absence. “He has taken the last two weeks off, though I wouldn't be surprised if he didnt come some days after. You know how tiring it can be”.

 Kaminari had nodded and thanked for the coffee before going back to his place on the sofa.

 He hasn't seeing Sero since that movie night, almost three weeks ago. They hadn’t text much either, between his classes and homeworks, the blonde’s energy focused on study to pass his exams, that were just about to start that week. And now, knowing that Sero was the busy one made it impossible.

 So the week passed, with the café empty and no sign of Sero, Kaminari coming everyday once the afternoon started and his exams were over, looking at the register and sitting on the table beside the window, drawing and writing, his story taking form in front of his eyes as the ink filled the white pages of the notebook. An story about a ordinary character, that by being surrounded by the unconvencional, was unique.

 *

 A knock on the door brought Sero back to the reality.

The door opened swiftly to show his mother, holding a tray with sandwiches and a big milkshake and the boy’s stomach growled loudly with hunger. “I brought some snacks.” she said and just then Sero realised he had been working non stop for seven hours. His fingers felt cramped and his back and neck felt as tense as a violin cord. The incomplete software was shining in his laptop screen, reminding him the time left he had to finish it and some parts of the story he still had to add. But those sandwiches looked good and so did the milkshake, and his mother had made them for him after arriving home after work so Sero decided to stop for a minute. He needed a break.

 His mom stayed in the room, sitting besides him in the bed as she watched him eat, her black eyes shining in relief and the slight hint of an smile in the curve of her lips. She was still wearing her work attire, a long tube skirt with a white blouse and a red handkerchief around her neck. She hadn’t even took his make up off and Sero felt a wave of love filling his chest despite the numb state his brain was at the moment. His mom sure was the best.

 “How was work?” he asked, once his stomach calmed enough to let his brain formulate words. There was only one sandwich left but Sero concentrated on the milkshake, enjoying the sweet flavour against his tongue.

 His mom shrugged. “Kinda boring.”

 “No interesting stories then?”

 “Oh no, there's always drama in the airport. Nothing really remarkable this time tho.” her long red nails brushed his hair from the front to the back, as she did when he was a kid. He must really look horrible if she was doing that. “What about you? Are you close to finish it?”

 Hanta didn’t look at her eyes.“Something like that.”

 “One of those days, uh” Sometimes she could read him too easily.

 Sero fidgeted in his chair, suddenly interested in the shelf in front of his bed, his figures way more interesting than his mother evaluating gaze.

 “Remember when your brother taught you how to ride a bike?” she said after a moment and Sero couldn’t help but raise a brow..

Teach was an overstatement.

“You mean when he just left me in the top of an slope and waited for me to do it by myself.”

 “Yes, I taught him that way too”

 Sero hold back a laugh. So that's why his brother never got grounded.

 “Also he told me you already knew the basics, it was time for him to let you go.”

 “Debatable.”

 She ignored him.

 “I've seen many parents helping their kids when they learn. And I did that too, at the beginning.”

 “Marco only did it like four or five times” Sero replied.

 “More than enough. I only did it tree times for him.”

 “Jesus, mom.”

 “Don’t be like that, it was a very small slope.” She said  “what i mean is that sometimes kids just need to prove the hardest thing, just to acquire something more important that succeed: experience. Oh, don't look at me like that, niño. Or are you gonna tell me that you didn’t enjoy the rush of adrenaline once your brain assimilated the fear and proceed to act? Overcoming it and try to do something. Anything! Because If you were going to fall, you would fall by your own terms.” Her soft hand cupped his cheek and Sero reclined in it.

 “Sometimes i feel like you have changed a little with your experiences, but that’s okay, because you are still turning out and you learn from your mistakes. Just remember that I will always be here to remind you that sometimes it is better to take a risk. In everything.”

 She kissed his forehead and Sero sighed, inevitably.

 “Don’t doubt and don’t be scared, because when you are already falling you have nothing to lose. And knee scraps almost never leave scars.”

 *

 He was late.

The teacher had had a problem with her car and the class representative had told them to wait for another hour until she arrived. They just couldn't leave their notebooks, she wanted to ask them about them, confirm that they were the right authors and to exploit every piece of information they had not noted.

So they needed to wait.

The hours seem to last eternities and Kaminari had never hated that his last name was one of the lasts in the list.

The traffic was a disaster too. Winter had came and with it the snow and half of the buses in the city were stuck in the traffic. More time passed as he waited for a bus that never seemed to came and Kaminari was late, so he decided to ran.

He ran through the cold streets, his breath creating puffs in the cold air as he ran all the way to the café.

He wished it didn’t close, that maybe Sero was still there, delaying it because someone told him that Denki had gone there everyday and that he planned to do the same that day too.

And Kaminari ran. And he wished.

 *

 Sero had closed the cafe late that day.

It had been a busy day. It was the last day of finals and the eve of a long vacation term and the college students felt like treating themselves with caffeine and sugar after having survived hell.

 Mineta was still mia (he would call him later, the dude always overdone it for finals) and Shouji had left early so he could go out with his (boy)friend. (Sero had to insist. He had been the only one working while the rest of them studied. He deserved the break.) He himself had finished his exams the day before, and he had never felt prouder of presenting a work on time. (He slept for fifteen hours after that, practically fainting on top of his bed with a victory smile.)

 Right then though, he took orders, prepared, served and even greeted some friends and familiar faces, compensating for the days of absence with even more energy while doing his tasks.

 “A vanilla cappuccino and a macchiato” a voice said and Sero looked up from the register to found himself in front of Denki’s roommate and friend, Bakugou, who was looking as exhausted and dead inside as everyone else.

 Hanta wondered if he should greet him or try to make an small conversation, after all he had been in the guy’s house, but Bakugou didn’t make any sign of recognising him. Instead, the blonde looked silently at the small box next to the register before picking up one of the chocolate chips cookies bags displayed in it, not willing to look at Sero at the eyes as he asked for the price.

 “I thought Denki would have been here” Bakugou said, while receiving his change. Hanta frowned in confusion.

 “I hadn’t seen him in weeks”

 “You must be blind then because he had come everyday in the last week”. Sero’s eyes widened in surprise and the blonde looked at him with curiosity before going back to his table, handling the cookie bag to the freckled guy that was waiting him there.

 Hanta repeated that part of the conversation in his head for the rest of the night, unaware of the passing of the time as he swept the floor and cleaned the tables.

 He didn’t notice the clock marking that it was already half an hour after closing time, or the clumsiness of his movements as tiredness started to affect him.

 And once he heard the footsteps and the doorbell as the doors opened, every sign of exhaustion vanished from his body, his heart stopping for a second at the sight of a messy blond, with his cheeks and hands pinks for the cold and his breath uneven as he gasped, “A coffee, please”

 Compared to outside, the Coffee Whim was cozy and warm and Kaminari’s muscles relaxed at the change of temperature.

Hanta had gone behind the counter, opening and closing cupboards before pouring the ingredients in the machine with ease.

Denki just observed, taking every detail of him in, trying to find small changes compared to the last time they had met. But aside from the bags under his eyes, practically hidden behind the frame of his glasses, he found none and he found it more comforting than he thought.

 An small cup was slid softly to his direction and Kaminari looked down to the smiley face Sero had draw on the foam, the sweet smell of the coffee filling his nostrils before taking it to his lips.  

 “This…” he whispered, after a long sip and Hanta’s smile made Kaminari’s heart made a somersault in his chest.

 “This time it is not a Nevado, it is too cold for that.” Sero explained, “ But I thought you might needed something sweet. This is the warm and original version: An Arequipe Latte.”

 Kaminari sighed happily, his body welcoming the hot drink as his tongue drowned in its sweet taste. A cozy feeling filling him from head to toes the more he drank it.“I'm gonna marry you one of these days.” he said and Sero huffed at his dramatism.

 Once he had finished it all, the blonde asked, “I see your finals are over. How did it go?”

 Hanta shrugged. “It was rough, not gonna lie, but it turned out fine at the end. Very good actually, I’m satisfied with the results.” He poked kindly Denki’s hand, positioned on top of the wooden table. “And yours?”

 “I won't know the results till monday but I'm positive.” Denki thought of his project, his explanation of it and the teacher's face as she checked the notebook. He closed his eyes at the memory of her asking him if she could keep it for a few days and the encouraging smile she gave to him before closing the door behind him. “I really want to nail this.”

 “I’m glad to hear that. I’m sure you are gonna kick some asses there.”

 Denki mirrored his smile and then there was silence between them again, a comfortable one, as they both lost in the comfort that being with each other was.

 At least until Kaminari’s phone rang, the pop song cutting the atmosphere like a knife.

 It wasn’t nothing important, only an old alarm he had forgotten to deactivate, but it reminded Denki how late it was, his muscles suddenly aching with the realization.

 “I think it is time to go home” he said, rather hesitantly, as he got up of the chair. He didn’t make any more move though, watching Hanta as he put his coat on and turning the last lights off before getting next to him to walk to the bus stop together.

 The snow had already started to accumulate in the streets by the time they spotted the bus stop from afar, and despite being a cold night, Kaminari found himself extending his arm to catch the snowflakes, even if they gave him goosebumps when they made contact with his skin. Carefully, Hanta took his hand on his own to put them both in his coat’s pocket, protecting them of the cold temperature, the warm of his palm transfering to his own.

 “You know, I tend to do stupid things when I’m tired.” said Sero, as they approached more and more their destination. Their steps had turned slower though, prolonging their time together as long as possible neither of them wanting to say goodbye.

 Hanta hadn’t let go his hand yet, and Denki felt his hand squeeze his as Sero turned his body to face him, so close, he could see through his glasses clearly.

 “Really? I do them all the time” said Kaminari, suddenly out of breath and his eyes roamed over Hanta’s features, searching for any sign that revealed a doubt, a rejection. There was none. Quite the contrary even, as Denki watched his lips quirk in a shy smile, the blush extending to his ears as Hanta looked back at him, at his lips. “It must be really annoying.”

 “It is,” Hanta said and then there was a hand caressing softly Denki’s cheek, raising his chin with cold fingers and touching lovingly the corner of his mouth, and the blonde felt a dejavu as he felt his breath against his skin, his heart stopping as Hanta whispered, “but I think I won’t call it a mistake this time.”

 The long awaited kiss was soft and tender, almost shy, and both guys closed his eyes as they hugged each other closer, their lips parting almost immediately with craving. It tasted sweet and slightly bitter and Denki stood on his tiptoes to get to taste more of it.

 Hanta and coffee, coffee and Hanta.

 He almost whined when they had to separate to breath, joining their foreheads together as Hanta chuckled against his mouth.

 “Suddenly I feel like drinking coffee again.” He said and Denki pulled him down by the collar of his coat because for the first time on his life, he did not. He found that he liked Hanta’s lips even more.

[mareyshelley]

Since we’re 20 days into August, how about 1-20 of the writers ask meme?!?!?!?! #imtheworst 😄

This is madness, let’s do it.

1. Favourite place to write.Anywhere I can get comfy and either put my feet up or curl up with a blanket.

2. Favourite part of writing.All. Of. It. I love having an idea and being able to bring that to life.

3. Least favourite part of writing.I don’t really have a part I don’t like. It can be frustrating if a scene isn’t working, but then I work around it and it’s fun again.

4. Do you have writing habits or rituals?Not really? I do like playing some music, usually something with the right lyrics or sound/feel for what I’m writing. So I’ll stick on a playlist to write, but that’s about it.

5. Books or authors that influenced your style the most.It depends on the kind of story I want to write. I think every book/author I’ve read and enjoyed rubs off on me, but then some influence me more if I want to write something in that vein. Poe’s one of my favourite writers, but he only tends to influence my Victorian/Edwardian and more Gothic stories. He influenced The Image of Her more than anything.

6. Favourite character you ever created.I have a bunch for original works, but my favourite OCs from a fic are Azrael and Pruflas from this Lucifer series. I like Herz too but he’s a dick, so.

7. Favourite author.Edgar Allan Poe. That’s why my URL’s Mary Shelley. Recently I’ve been reading Erin Morgenstern and Brandon Sanderson, if you want more recent (and living) authors.

8. Favourite trope to write.The Monster Within. It’s my favourite of all the Gothic Tropes™ and I use it a lot. It’s like Jekyll and Hyde or Frankenstein and the creature.It’s the idea of, instead of the monster being an outside threat (as in regular horror) the monster is our own creation, something that comes from within us. In The Image of Her, Belle thinks the threat might come from the creepy old house itself, or the servants who’re never around, or the ghost boy, or her Byronic husband, but Surprise! Turns out she was the scary thing all along. In Lovelier Colours is a bit more obvious. It’s told from the POV of vampires who literally kill people. But are they really monsters? When you get a character’s POV, if it’s done right, you get to know them as a person. Is this old-fashioned, love-sick fool really a monster? (Yes, he kills people.) But is he really when he went to such lengths to save the woman he loves? (Yes.)Echoing Hearts is more subtle, but it still has this. Belle has a darkness of her own that speaks to her and tells her to do awful things. She’s literally hanging out with the Darkest Dark One to Ever Dark, Wish!Rumple, but he isn’t telling her to do anything bad. All of that comes from within Belle herself.Anyway, it’s my favourite trope and you’ll never stop me from talking about it or writing it.

9. Least favourite trope to write.I don’t really have an answer for this. If I don’t like a trope, I don’t write it.

10. Pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.I Choose You. It’d probably have some Beauty and the Beast element and be historical, maybe with a hint of fantasy. I’m thinking Edwardian. With magic. The main guy has to have a scar. There’s no reason for that. I just want it. That’s the setting and one (1) character. That’s all you’re getting. I can’t do all the work.

11. Describe your writing process from scratch to finish.I get an idea. I start writing the idea. I make notes on where I want the characters and plot to go, as I’m still writing the idea. I make a Table and plot out the idea as I’m writing it. I finish writing part of the idea, and I make you read it, and then I reread the idea. Then the idea is done. That’s it. I write it from start to finish. Sometimes I’ll have an idea for future scenes, or I’ll suddenly get an idea for a bit of dialogue or narrative for an upcoming part, but I never write out a full chapter until the one before it is finished. It’s easier to write stuff in order so I know where the characters and relationships are.

12. How do you deal with self-doubts?I don’t. I let it build up and try to ignore it until I can’t anymore and end up dying inside.

13. How do you deal with writers block?I don’t really get it. If I’m unsure of what to write next for a story, I just move to a different WIP and that usually helps. But I never just… can’t write anything at all.

14. What’s the most research you ever put into a book?I don’t do a lot of research for fantasy stories, but if I’m writing a period piece, then that’s when I’ll do the most research. And I’ll research stuff I don’t even need to research. I get distracted doing that and 84% of what I learn doesn’t even get used in the story.

15. Where does your inspiration come from?I wish I knew. Inspiration comes when I’m not looking for it. It can come from reading something else, or even writing something else. It could come from listening to a particularly good song, or when I’m forcing myself to come up with an idea because gdi I will write a Mermaid AU if it kills me. The inspiration for those ideas comes when I just start asking questions. What kinda setting do I want? If it’s a fanfic, which version of Rumple do I want to upset this time? Etc.

16. Where do you take your motivation from?I guess my motivation just comes from the fact that I love writing. I love literature. I read all the time. I study it. I always want to write, even when I’m tired or feel Not Good. Loving it is all the motivation I need.

17. On average, how much writing do you get done in a day?There isn’t really an average. It depends on my current WIPs, my mood, how busy that day is, the scene I have to write. On a good day I can do maybe 1k words, or just a few hundred on a bad day. As long as I’ve done something, I’m happy.

18. What’s your revision or rewriting process like?I put the old thing that I wanna revise/rewrite/kill in a 2x1 table, then I read through that as I rewrite it. So the old piece and the new piece are next to one another, and I can copy and paste from the old piece if there’s anything I wanna keep. Or, I straight up delete everything, cry, and start again.

19. First line of a WIP you’re working on.

He would have to marry soon.

That’s the first line of a WIP I’ve been working on for months. I’m determined to finish it, I just need time.

20. Post a snippet of a WIP you’re working on.

“How do we finalise this deal?” Belle asked, determined not to back out now no matter how stunned her certainty made him. “Should we sign somewhere?”

“No, no,” he said, finally making his decision. He curled his hand around her neck and a warmth spread across her chest. “There are better ways of finalising a deal such as this,” he added, all mirth and merriment replaced with a deep, gravelly tone. “One thing all marriages need to make them binding.”

Belle stared up at him, her cheeks flushing hot, and stepped closer. 

“What?” she asked breathlessly.

“This.” Rumplestiltskin pulled her to him, holding her against his chest, and kissed her.

That’s from the same WIP. It’s all just the first draft, so it’s unedited.

[themagiciansreccenter]

Author Spotlight: @shmazarov/ lazarov

Every week we interview a writer from The Magicians fandom. If you would like to be interviewed or you want to nominate a writer, get in touch via our ask box.

First things first, tell us a little about yourself.

I'm in my late 20s, Canadian. I've spent more of my life writing fic than not, and tend to flit around from fandom to fandom.

How long have you been writing for? 

The oldest fic on my semi-defunct ff.net account dates back to 2006 - so at least 13 years, although I posted plenty of misguided LiveJournal fanfiction long before that.

What inspired you to start writing for The Magicians?

I was originally a book fan, although when the books were coming out there wasn't much of an online fandom. Truth be told, it took me a long time to warm up to the show - but once I did, I found that the TV versions of the characters inspired a lot of fic ideas.

Who is/are your favourite character(s) to write? What it is about them that makes them your favourite? 

Quentin! Always. I really enjoy the way his jumbled, speedy thought patterns and self-consciousness translate into the way he speaks, and I think it's fascinating to explore the ways in which he subverts the White Male Hero trope by never quite managing to be the hero in his (or anyone's) story. Quentin Coldwater is deeply misunderstood and I would fight a bear for him.

Do you have a preference for a particular season/point in time to write about? 

Not really, except for being fond of the Mosaic timeline (because I am human). Otherwise, I usually write as if canon is an inconvenience.

Are you working on anything right now? Care to give us an idea about it? 

For the Magicians fandom, I am slowly picking away at a multi-part Queliot angst fic that is dear to my heart as well as something new, current-season oriented and (surprisingly) canon-compliant. Who knew I had it in me? For other fandoms, I am perpetually working on a Daredevil fic that is well over 60,000 words and has been ongoing since 2015. It is my white whale. I also, naturally, have not even gotten around to watching the newest season of Daredevil in keeping with my tradition of treating canon as more of a suggestion than an imperative.

How long is your “to do list”? 

Not that long! My to do list is limited strictly to the stuff I'm actively working on right now. I have dozens of little prompts-to-self saved in my Google Docs drive, but I tend to write them and tuck them away, forgetting them until I can rediscover them with fresh eyes. I never think of them as "to dos" so much as "maybe somedays."

What is your favourite fic that you’ve written for The Magicians? Why? 

I love Other People very much.

Many writers have a fic that they are passionate about that doesn’t get the reception from the fandom that they hoped for. Do you have a fic you would like more people to read and appreciate?

It never surprises me when things I write don't get much traction, because I have a tendency to write niche tropes or stuff that I personally want to read! However - I do think One and the Same is good and affecting and has kind of snuck under the radar. I like that one, and I'm going to keep adding to it (because I like it so much and because, as above, I am a sucker for the Mosaic timeline).

What is your writing process like? Do you have any traditions or superstitions that you like to stick to when you’re writing?

My writing process is GARBAGE! It's garbage. I am needy, and lazy, and terrible at self-motivating. I'm disorganized and hard on myself. I almost never have the help of betas, because I feel a silly but overwhelming sense of guilt asking people for help. With that said, I am always extremely proud of myself for Doing the Damn Thing when I do write.

My personal weird thing is writing on my computer, then always doing my edit read-throughs on my phone. Something about the smaller screen and different font focuses my brain and helps me read my own writing more objectively. I also tend to pick a song, or an album, to listen to on repeat every time I work on a fic or a chapter of. It focuses my scattered brain and helps me write toward a specific mood.

Do you write while the seasons are airing or do you prefer to wait for hiatus? How does the ongoing development of the canon influence and inspire your writing process?

I love writing during seasons because it means people are READING. The spike in feedback that happens during seasons is incredible and so gratifying. Plus, I'm desperate for attention at all times and want those comments and kudos like Mardi Gras beads, obviously. Canon, as always, is optional. Especially in this fandom! Who needs fandom when you have timelines?

What has been the most challenging fic for you to write?

In the Magicians fandom, the most recent chapter of Stories We Tell kicked my ass. I am always trying to improve my visualization and descriptive imagery, and that was a real test for me. I'm not great at it yet, but I'm glad I challenged myself with that one and look forward to doing it even more.

Are there any themes or tropes that you like particularly like to explore in your writing?

So much angst. Sorry guys, it's free therapy? I can get self-conscious about the fact that I barely ever write fluff, but I have a really hard time getting inspired by anything other than misery. 

 Somebody's gotta do it.

Are there any writers that inspire your work? Fanfiction or otherwise?

Fanfiction : @greywash, obviously @sashayed and Lady Jaida are like, the pinnacle??? of fic writing, @longnationalnightmare, @afterism, @refusals... there are so many.

What are you currently reading? Fanfiction or otherwise?

I haven't had time to read or keep up with much fic lately, but semi-recent greats include colour all the squares by @afterism and spring sooner than the lark by @greywash!

What is the most valuable piece of writing advice you’ve ever been given?

"Your writing is incomprehensible." - a TA who gave me an extremely sub-par mark and made me realize that sometimes people are just going to hate your writing, and that's ok. 

"When you write a story, you're telling yourself the story. When you rewrite, your main job is taking out all the things that are not the story." - that one is Stephen King, but I would like to pretend it was advice given to me, because I cherish it.

Are there any words or phrases you worry about overusing in your work?

I can't think of any offhand, but I would pay someone to hit me with a rigid stick every time I use a cliche in my writing.

What was the first fanfic that you wrote? Do you still have access to it?

I have vague memories of terrible The 10th Kingdom fanfiction. It doesn't exist anymore, sadly/thankfully - but now I am feeling nostalgic and digging through the old 10th Kingdom Angelfire archive, right this second. Be still my heart.

Rapidfire Round! 

Self-edit or Beta?

Self-edit, because I am too shy and full of shame to ask for help. It's not a virtue.

Comments or Kudos/Reblogs or Likes?

COMMENTS. Comments are the thing that bring me more joy than, well, many other things that probably should give me a lot of joy. Comments keep my heart full.

Smut, Fluff or Angst?

As if it's even a competition -- ANGST. Always angst. Angst always.

Quick & Dirty or Slow Burn?

Slow burn. Particularly involving difficult and meandering conversations and shrouded looks.

Favourite Season? 

Season One

Favourite Epiosde? 

I truly cannot decide.

Favourite Book?

The Magicians Land

Three favourite words?

softly / petrichor / idyllic

Want to be interviewed for our author spotlight? Get in touch here.

[mariniacipher]

But Light Sides Do

Inspired by @quillfics42 onehot “Dark Sides Don’t Do Holidays” 

Summary: Patton gets his fellow Light Sides to make a christmas gift for their new housemate. 

Character: Patton, Roman, Logan, Virgil is mentioned and has a small appeareance at the end

Pairings: none, platonic L(A)MP

Warnings: none

Words: 1.761

“But why?” Roman whined, ignoring the way Logan rolled his eyes as Patton gave him a stern look.

“Now Roman, I know you don’t like Anxiety much, but I won’t stand for anyone here not getting a present on Christmas!”

“However good your intentions may be, I don’t think that Anxiety would necessarily appreciate your efforts, seeing his apparent disdain for the holidays.”

“I understood 80% of that sentence!” Logan’s eyes would get stuck at the back of his head one of these days. “But really, Logan, why not make an effort to make Anxiety feel more included? We don’t even really know him, and he probably moved here for a reason- Maybe he’s another Light Side!”

“Yeah, right, that dreadful- dork looks ready to kill a man and you think he’s a Light Side? He should try lightening up first, if you ask me,” Roman grinned at his joke, to the amusement of no one, except Patton who laughed out of politeness,”Also, his eyeshadow is absolutely garish, you’d think he doesn’t even TRY!” Roman threw an arm against his head as he fell against the logical Side next to him, who only smirked as he let Roman fall to the ground, making no effort to catch him. “TRAITOR!” The prince wailed from the ground, gripping one of Logan’s legs, gesturing dramatically with the other arm. “How could I, the all-beloved, talented, beautiful, charming, favoured Side of all be betrayed like this- by my own brethren no less!”

Before Logan could reply, already moving to pinch his nose, he fell. Roman grabbed the other’s leg, breaking out into thunderous laughter, only getting louder at the logical Side’s disgruntled expression. But his laugh was quickly cut off in favour of high-pitched squeaks, Logan wasting no time at all tickling him into submission, a cruel smile on his face.

“Unprepared for retaliation? A shame, for the prince to go down due to such an easily avoidable error.”

“Hey! Let me- Let go of me, you fiend! I demand to be freed- Patton! Patton, save me! Save me from this vile villain!”

“No- Patton, please-”

High-pitched laughing filled the living room, interrupted by screams. Patton’s smile was absolutely innocent, a stark contrast to Roman’s positively gleeful one. Logan, meanwhile, was crying for help. “Aww, come on Lo, we can stop as soon as you agree to helping us with anxiety’s present!”

“Us?”

“Yeah, of course, or do you not want to help?” Patton smiled, as sweet as a cherub, while Logan yelped on the ground in front of him, and Roman wasn’t frightened, per se, he’s a prince after all, but well- a prince always does good deeds whenever he can!

“No- I can’t wait, Patton, we shall show that Grinch the joys of Christmas! I am already thinking of ideas,” he grinned, conjuring a scroll of parchment and a self-inking quill, writing down the headline- “A Gift For A Grouch”- in pink, glittering, cursive writing.  

Logan relaxed as Patton moved away from him in favour of looking over Roman’s shoulder as the creative Side jotted down ideas, calming his breathing and his nerves. Patton and his incessant tickling, it was humilitaing.

“Hey, Lo, c’mere, look at all of Roman’s ideas!”

“Yes, very fascinating- what would he do with a set of Magic: The gathering cards? He doesn’t have anyone to play with.”

“I was brainstorming, genius,” Roman muttered, striking out the idea. “Besides, I think we all know the obvious winner here-”

“Yeah, the onesie!”

“No- You mean the collection of works by Edgar Allan Poe, correct?”

“No! The make-up set, you fools! He obviously needs it.”

“Kiddo, don’t be mean!” The only reply Patton got was displeased grumbling, but he went on unbothered. “And we don’t know if he even likes that scary stuff, or if he already has it, if he does.” “And scary stories belong to Halloween, not Christmas.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t know his size, so we can’t make him a hoodie either, not even regarding how strenuous it’d be to make a hoodie in such a short amount of time.”

“Uh, I can conjure?”

“But it’s a present, it should be handmade!”

“Okay, well, we can’t very well sneak into his room and just measure him-”

“-I could! It’s what I did to get the measurements for your Christmas sweater last year! Did you know that you sleep-talk?”

“No, I… did not, Patton. Thanks for informing me of that,” Logan noted, stiffly. He’d definitely get a lock tomorrow. Maybe earlier.

“You’re welcome! Oh! What if we get him a housewarming present?”

“And what would that be? Maybe a stocked wardrobe?... I don’t think I’ve seen him in anything other than that hoodie in years, it’s a crime.”

“Roman!”

“I can’t help it if it’s true!”

“Well, maybe he just gets cold quickly?”

“I think it’s more likely to be a coping mechanism, seeing as Sides usually have a deeper connection with what they embody, and hoodies being widely considered to be calming for people dealing with heightened anxiety due to stimulating the skin, offering warmth and comfort, as well as hiding the person’s figure.”

“Either way, we could make him a blanket! That way, he’d be warm, and whenever he uses it he can remember that even though none of us expected this, he is welcome here!”

“A grand idea, Padre!”

“Thank you Roman!”

“It does seem fitting. I’d suggest Princey designs it, for obvious reasons, while Patton and I make the actual blanket.”

“That emo nightmare won’t know what hit him, it’ll look so amazing!”

“Remember that it’s supposed to fit his aesthetic!”

“Shall do, dear Patton!”

“Aaand he’s gone. Well, let’s start on the actual blanket. Would you mind conjuring all we need, and get Thomas to research the process behind making a blanket, I don’t think I’ve got one in my records, and you’re more familiar with creating a sudden flash of interest in one of these,” he fished for a flash card, just to be sure,” DIY-projects.”

“Course, Lo. Ohhh, how about we make it weighted?”

“Like the one we made for Roman, so his incessant moving wouldn’t keep him up even longer? Well, I don’t see anything wrong with it, although it’d be a considerable amount of extra work.”

“I’m sure we’ll manage!”

So it was decided.

Roman came down with his drawing pad just a few minutes later, Logan planning how to do the actual blanket, guessing how much Anxiety would weigh to calculate the amount of pellets they’d need, and how much cotton would be needed to make it pleasantly soft, while Patton hummed christmas carols to himself, rolling out a batch of sugar cookies he’d quickly thrown together, before lining up a batch of different cookie cutters to make as many different shapes as possible. He especially liked the pumpkin and the elephant ones, as they always made Logan pinch his brow in that adorable, confused way of his.

It didn’t take long for Logan to be finished with the match behind it, and he sat next to Roman- Patton subtly keeping an eye on them, to make sure they wouldn’t argue too badly- looking over the prince’s designs and offering both praise and criticism. Both working towards a shared goal, it was easier to accept each other’s differences, easier to appreciate the other’s strengths.

The end product was a mix of black, purple and red, with stripes of white on the upper side, truly capturing Anxiety’s emo style, even if it seemed a bit more goth than his usual aesthetic. The flannel pattern wasn’t the main subject of their pride, though. That would the underside of the blanket, where they’d settled for a soft, crocheted blanket from Patton, in a light violet tone that looked like the clouds in the twilight of the dying sun, a calming colour with black embroidery they’d added, at the start just to proof that they were better at it than the other. The final product was a mixture of extravagant floral swirls and linear, geometric shapes, somehow slotting together perfectly. Patton squealed as he saw the two pieces of fabric, hugging both of them, and crinkling the blankets, almost choking on his own breath and excitement.

Patton had the most experience with the sewing machine, ,so he was the one sewing the blanket together, Logan weighing the pellets and mixing them with cotton to put into the patterns of the quilt and Roman eating some- not all!- of the sugar cookies- “A snack deserves a snack!”- and decorating the others, singing festive broadway and disney songs under his breath to avoid Logan getting into another tirade about waking their new housemate.

A bit more than an hour later, the quilt was finished, and the Sides looked it with pride. Anxiety would surely love his present! Patton wrote a quick note to put on the folded blanket and, seeing as Logan was barely seeing straight and Roman had offered to carry him to bed, walked upstairs and to Anxiety’s room, knocking quietly to check if he was awake, before slipping inside to quickly put the blanket on the desk, but- the kiddo was freezing! He was freezing, even under his numerous blankets and covers, this wouldn’t do! Patton covered the dark Side with the quilt, tucking him in as the kiddo snuggled deeper into the weighted blanket, quickly stilling, a tenseness leaving his form that Patton hadn’t even noticed was there. He put the note on Anxiety’s bedside cabinet and snuck out again.

“Merry Christmas, kiddo!”

~

They all tried to cover their disappointment when Anxiety failed to acknowledge their gift, if anything only growing more hostile with time, and never once uttering a thank you. Unknowing that the dark Side had accidentally knocked their note under his bed when reaching for his phone, Roman saw no reason not to let his hurt turn into bitterness, enjoying to get a rise out of the ungrateful Side. Logan, of course, had no such emotionally based reasoning, but if pressed he would admit that the other Side’s dismissal of their efforts was a tad… rude. But then again, he probably thought it a silly gesture, with his talk of Dark Sides not “doing” holidays, so he’d be glad to respect his views. Patton tried to stay nice, but wrapped under his covers, he was hurt- but he kept on hoping, he was sure Anxiety was nice under all his snarling and teasing!

He’d eventually be proven right, but none of the Light Sides knew that yet.

[starglasszodiac]

SGZ Anniversary - Cassie and the Comic

The big one, the origin story!!!! And honestly one of my favourite memories to look back on. :’D I’ll be talking about both the idea itself and the evolution of Cassie’s character in what is a BEHEMOTH of a text post, so here we go!

While July 19th, 2015 is the official origin day of SGZ, it started a bit prior to that. I have this story already somewhat explained on the blog’s FAQ page, but I might as well reiterate it here:

SGZ started as an idea in the summer of 2015 after my buddy Laura showed me two webcomics: Paranatural by Zack Morrison, and Vibe by Dan Ciurczak (two comics I highly recommend, please go read them!). I loved how vibrant and beautiful their artwork was despite how different their stories were, and how wonderful the writing and humour was. My two biggest creative passions have always been visual art and writing, but ironically this was what really flicked the switch in my head to actually try comics, the literal combination of the two. Why I didn’t start sooner will forever be a mystery to me, but I suppose a lack of exposure to comics as a kid had something to do with it. Better late than never, right?

The specific launch day of July 19th is an homage to not only the creation of the idea but of the main protagonist, Cassie. After thinking “hey, I could do this!” I started wondering what I should make a comic about. While working at my retail job (on the slowest day in existence), I began to make a list of things that I liked or wanted to write a story about, and stars / astrology was one of them. I had always loved that aspect of mythology, and my affection for stars is a mystery to no one.

I worked at what was effectively a Blockbuster clone in my hometown (RIP Cherry Hill Video) and we had scrap pieces of paper that we made from old movie facings, so the first ever notes and doodles for this series exist on these scraps. I’ve still got quite a few of them, but they got a bit scattered when I moved for college. I’m hoping the rest are at my house somewhere.

I got the idea of a girl with a star in her eye, and called it the Starglass. And, well, the idea went from there! I started researching all of the zodiac signs and symbols, and drew the first (digital) drawing of Cassie when I got back home that day. Which, looked like this:

Seeing this again is not only weird and oddly nostalgic but it’s a testament to where my artistic sensibilities were prior to going to animation school. The idea for SGZ happened mere months before I was thrown into that 3-year fray of insanity so the evolution is pretty odd in places, especially how my knowledge of shape language, anatomy, etc. evolved and how my style adapted to that. I had almost NEVER drawn humans prior to going to college, so a lot of the art for this series deals with my inability to do so at the start. ^^’ The awkward phase, if you will. And as such, it is the first story idea I had that primarily focused on humans.

Looking back on it, Cassie’s character in terms of personality was pretty different than what it is now, but from a visual standpoint there’s (surprisingly) a lot that stayed. The basic idea of her hair stayed, right down to the double ponytail and orange clasps. Her freckles, eye colour and general face shape too, even if that ended up modified after solidifying her character later.

Her main colour was always red, in fact after making the headshot I remember having NO IDEA what to do for the rest of her body, so it just ended up being RED. Then I added the blue for the contrast, but I still wasn’t happy with it at the time (a perhaps subconscious origin for her blue pants though, lol). I also find amusement in the fact that my current concept for her mother Nora has her wearing blue flats much like these.

Based on the notes I have and what I remember, Cassie was older at this point (like 15 or 16 probably) and seemed to be a lot more sarcastic (this is a norm for a lot of my characters, trust me). xD Some of the first character interactions I ever wrote largely involved Cassie being sassy to one of the signs, back when a few of them were being over dramatic (looking at you SCORPIO). I cackled reading those interactions again now that my characters have changed so much. They’re not well written at all but they still let me look back to that time with fondness. :’D

What is also interesting is the progression of her name, or the fact that she didn’t have one right at the start. My earliest notes have simply Starglass or SG whenever I wrote dialogue. I started trying to think of a name, and contrary to popular belief, settling on Cassie actually had nothing to do with Cassiopeia. Though I do really enjoy the irony of that. xD It started with Cass, which could be short for either Cassandra or Cassidy, and I ended up going with Cassidy. I then changed it to Cassie, as I find the -ie suffix makes it a lot cuter. I am biased though, my name ends with it too, aha. There is a note that spells it as Cassi and for the life of me I cannot determine if that was a typo or not, but when I write fast I miss letters sometimes. The nickname of “Star” was one the table for a while too, and now that Star VS exists it’s even funnier. I specifically recall my mother telling me that she was going to suggest Star on the Facebook post I had made for the art at the time, but thought maybe it was too obvious. She was right, though this idea lives on in the nicknames that the signs end up giving Cassie later on, my favourite being “Little Star”.

While development for the story and characters started right away, it got a much welcomed jumpstart at the beginning of my second year at animation school. We were given a character design project that would span the entire year, and would require a story concept to complete all of the assignments. We were told this fact in first year to give us time to prepare over the summer, and I had just pulled an all-nighter to finish an assignment that day, but upon hearing this news I was not tired at all. Character design was already my favourite class, but this put it over the top. That beautiful feeling of inspiration that hits you is the BEST and in that moment nothing else mattered. Not even my fatigue, which I promptly dealt with the next day.

I used this as an opportunity to spend time developing the designs and story progression of all the characters, while getting marks for it at the same time! This is largely the reason I was able to launch the comic a few months after completing that year of school, as it ended up giving me full-sized references, colour schemes, and a much better idea of the story as a whole. Based on when my school years took place, I can actually track the progression of the characters pretty well through the artistic skill upgrade I was getting too.

The progression is pretty wild honestly, especially between 2015 and 2016:

(oh god these are so old help me) 

(these aren’t all of them either but I did my best jdhkfhsjkfhskjf)

From 2016 onwards I had the basic idea of her, so her colours stayed more or less the same once I actually added them. Cassie’s hair was one of the things that required a lot more iterations. I had her general idea down for a while, but when it came to making the character pack of her for my character design class, I remember having to sit down and actually figure out how her hair would work, structurally and otherwise, for that High Quality Refinement™ that was required of the project. Her older drawings had the part in her hair be in the middle, and that posed the problem of covering her eyes too much. If she was a more reserved character in any way this could have worked, but nah. I knew from the beginning she was going to be an outwardly eccentric child, one I wish I could have been when I was growing up.

Now for anyone that knows me as both a huge nerd and an artist, when it comes to fantasy stuff I LOVE armour. Absolutely love it. You see it everywhere in the things I make both inside and outside of SGZ, and I adore making themed costumes based on that (see my Feather Knights series for the most extreme example of this ever, ahahaha). So, it stands to reason that I would do the same for Cassie at some point, and I did! 

There was a particular focus on a helmet for a while too, whole plot points in fact! This helmet was, story wise, a long-standing plot point that proved difficult to change once the focus shifted. The initial idea was that the helmet belonged to Cassie’s science teacher (who is still a minor character in this as of now) and he gave it to her knowing its significance to the Starglass, thus establishing a sort of connection between Cassie’s normal life on Earth and the supernatural shenanigans that happen on the Astral Plane. The night she brings it home, she discovers that this little friend laid dormant inside:

This is Flicker. A character I’ve actually never revealed to anyone prior to now but hey, why not? The idea of Cassie having a spirit companion certainly didn’t come out of left field for me, but I wasn’t entirely sure how this character would appear, or what dynamic they would have with Cassie. I didn’t have pets bigger than a hamster growing up, so the idea of Cassie having a potential dog or cat companion would be new territory based on my own experiences. 

Flicker, as they are right now, acts as a sort of sensor for spirits that are roaming loose on Earth, and alerts Cassie to them... even if she’s not always up for a spirit hunt. They do have a backstory associated with how they appear and what their purpose is in the overall context of the world, but that isn’t revealed until much later in the story. For now Flicker is a cute little friend that cannot say much, but is devoted to protecting things, especially the Starglass. Luckily they still made the cut when it came to the helmet idea, and you should be meeting them officially pretty soon in the comic! :D

While the initial problem was getting any sort of cohesive look to the helmet or any other armour in terms of concept, I found as the story developed along with Cassie’s design, both her hair and her star sweater ended up being her two most “iconic” qualities aside from her eye, and using armour would have covered that up. 

On top of that, Cassie didn’t really end up being the type of character that would use armour, as one might expect from a character that has to fight and defend things a lot. She’s one to do things a little differently, and both her and the signs discover that, well, different works! It wasn’t a matter of her physical strength for the majority of the problems she faces, but rather strength of heart, and that’s a very personal note for me to touch on with this character. As such, nothing about an armour concept ever came out of the sketch phase:

It still makes for really interesting ideas though, so I’m sure I can work these into something else I’m working on. :’D Knowing myself, I’ll find a way. (The wings are VERY Cardcaptors though lol)

What did stay, however, were her swords:

She had at least one sword at the very beginning of this concept, but it eventually evolved into two. I find it interesting that sun, moon and star symbols were always present, regardless of what iteration these swords went through. Their official names are the Sun Star and Moon Star Swords respectively. Aside from the few doodles here and there for the zodiac weapons, this was the first appearance of any kind of fantasy weapon in SGZ. I can confirm that Cassie and the signs were going to have weapons from the get-go though, this IS something I made after all. xD

I think I also need to mention the main influences for this series, as the love for those things is very evident in my work, from the visuals to the storytelling and everything in between. Aside from my general interest in fantasy topics such as mythology and astrology, here’s a list including (but not limited to) the series that inspired the making of SGZ:

Kirby, Steven Universe, Harry Potter, Avatar: The Last Airbender & The Legend of Korra, Cardcaptor Sakura / Cardcaptors, Kim Possible, Danny Phantom, and pretty much any other show I’ve watched about surviving school while going on crazy adventures. That stuff may be cliche now but I’ll be damned if I don’t love it still.

I grew up with some of these and the rest are new, but they’re all near and dear to my heart for many reasons. I’m happy that I can put that love into something I’ve made, and share that story with the world. 

I know I’ve got a lot more ranting about this story to do in general and the comic is still going, but I want to say some special thanks to some of SGZ’s biggest supporters: 

Laura, Eleanor, and my classmates and teachers at Seneca College. This comic wouldn’t exist without you. <3

I’ll be honest, working on this series got me through some of the toughest years of my life so far, and this was one of the first times where something I made actually came to fruition in some way, and had a genuine development period that I can look back on. I’ve grown a lot as both a person and an artist since then, and doing this look back in time really solidified that for me. I have a cast of characters that I love, and now I get to tell their story. So if you’ve stayed till the end in this gigantic post, thank you. I don’t know where this story will lead me, but with any luck it’ll be somewhere in the stars. Thanks for reading, friends. <3

[wordtowordtoword]

How Do I Decorate My Small Living Room: Small Living Room Designs

When it comes to a small living room, you don't have a lot space to work with. Yet, you want to make the most out of your space to provide a charming and welcoming area for guests who visit. The living space is the area in the house that is the most exposed to guests, hence it has to be both welcoming and beautiful. If you've been at the task of decorating or redecorating your small living room, you have come to the right place. We have some helpful tips and advice that should help you figure out the best design for your small living room. We will discuss the various small living rooms designs, so you know, what to add and what to simply leave out.    Cluttering the living space is probably on the biggest worries when it comes to decorating a small space. You don't want to overwhelm the space with too much furniture to the point that it becomes difficult to get from one side to another.    Coupled with the quanlity of the living space, you would also have to keep in mind the colours that you use.   Regardless of how small your space is, there is a design that you can choose to make your living room look fabulous. Hence without further adieu, let's dive into the integral component of designing a small living room, that you should first keep in mind.   

    Read These 7 Tips and Remember Them First

When it comes to designing a small living space, you have your work cut out for you. You don't have a lot of space to work with and you don't want to overwhelm the area with too much furniture. So what is the best place to start?   

1. Sofa's Choice

When it comes to arranging the furniture in a small space, this can become an overwhelming task. You want to ensure that you get furniture that is suitable for the small space. You don't want to stuff the living room with a huge couch and not have space for anything more. Hence the main rule when it comes to design applies, choose the furniture that fits the space and don't try to squeeze too much in.    Oftentimes, with decorating, you would find that less is more. You can always opt for a minimalistic design, however, there is more that you can do by way of design.    Choosing the sofa is probably the most important task that you have at hand. It becomes the centre-piece of the living area and is usually where the eye is drawn to first. Hence be sure to pick the right sofa for your space.    Armless sofas look amazingly sleek in small spaces, however, they aren't the most comfortable to lounge on. One more thing to keep in mind is how you probably won't have a small living room for as long as you may have the couch. If you are looking to move to a bigger space, you may want to choose a sofa that is more comfortable.    The sofa is the highlighting piece of furniture for the room, hence when it comes to picking a sofa, think of it as an investment and you can go about purchasing the less expensive furniture to accent your design.   

2. Accent Chairs

When working on a small space, you want to diversify the look and feel of the living area without adding too much into the space. A great way to do this is by adding an accent chair.    When you are looking for the right accent chair for a small living space, you want to look for light colours. Dark colours on the contrary will make the chair look too big for the room.    Once again, armless chairs would be a good choice to make when you decide on the accent chair for your room. Slipper chairs are a great choice and you should avoid anything with a tall backrest. You can also opt for something like a ghost chair, which is a transparent chair, which works really well in small spaces.   

3. Simplify Till it Hurts

Simplicity takes the crown when you are designing a small living space. Look for furniture with a simple and clean finish, with clean lines to ensure that eyes are not stuck in one place.   Just keep it simple and don't try to do too much with the space. After all, you aren't designing a huge living space with plenty of room, you want to make the most of the little space you have and make it look fabulous.    Don't work to overpower your living space with overstuffed chairs and shabby chic slipcovers. These would work to overpower your design, hence always think of simplicity first.   

4. Picking Colours

The selection of colours for your living space decides on the final outcome of the design and how well the decor works together.   So start with the bigger pieces such as your sofa. Remember to stick to neutral colours for the larger furniture. Once you have the big neutral colour in place, you can add some interesting texture by mixing smaller pieces of different colours and styles. This will ensure that you don't have too generic of a feel to the space.    When you are furnishing your small space, you have to remember to stick to a lighter feel and keep colours and patterns simple. The more complexity you try to bring into the project, the harder of a time you would have to blend everything together.    When you are working with a small space, you should keep in mind that colour usually works better in smaller amounts. Hence opt to add colour to the room through things like throw pillows or accessories such as vases and lamps.    

5. Finding the Right Coffee Table

You can choose to go for a centre coffee table or an ottoman for the arrangement of the living room. You could even completely opt-out from a coffee table.   However, if you are going for a centre coffee table instead of an ottoman, you should look for something that is transparent, such as acrylic or glass. You should work to steer clear of ornate furnishings and instead look for a table with simple and delicate lines.    With the right coffee table, your table should look to dissolve into the space and disappear, giving the illusion of a larger room.   

6. Wall Colour

You should ideally pick your furniture first before deciding on a wall colour. Some people choose to work backwards and paint their walls first and once they purchase the furniture decide that the wall colour doesn't work and have to go through the task of repainting the walls.    When it comes to wall colours, you should work to provide a small contrast and steer clear of darker colours which will make your space look smaller. You can also opt for vertical stripes which may give the impression of a higher ceiling.    A subtle and light shade of colour for the walls will give the living space a vibrant and welcoming feel, ensuring that the atmosphere isn't too stuffy. You don't want to go with too dark of a colour and completely overwhelm a smaller space.   

7. Minimalism is Key

As with simplicity, think minimally and you are sure to have a great design on your hands. The truth about a small living space is, you don't have room to add junk into the space. Hence, you have to ensure that you are making the most out of every square inch of the space.    The best way to ensure that you are making the most out of the space is to ensure that you stick to a minimalistic design. Add only what you need and don't go overboard. As a rule of thumb, you should stick to one sofa, one chair and one table. It is that simple and that really is the winning formula for small living rooms designs.   

    Small Living Room Designs

With the basic tips in the bag, you are ready to take on your living room and make the design work for you. When it comes to designing a small living room, you want to opt for simple and beautiful designs that are sure to work well together.   Here are 16 small living room designs which are sure to help you along your way.  

1. Anchor the Living Area With the Right Furniture

When it comes to working with a small space, you have a good chance to focus on the right furniture and you don't really have much space to go wrong. All you have to do is pick a table, a chair and a sofa, so there isn't much you can go wrong with.    The statement object of a space is what anchors the area. You can turn the TV area for instance into an accent wall, further highlighting the wall and anchoring it into the design of the small living room.    Another thing you should keep in mind is the dual purpose usability of some of the furniture. For instance, the side tables and upholstered ottomans could have dual purposes for entertaining and hosting.    Anchor the living space with the right furniture to give the space the balance it requires. Draw attention to the sofa or a highlighted wall or two. Once again, you don't have to go overboard, think simplicity and you would be able to anchor the right furniture to fit a small space.     

2. Scale the Furniture for the Best Look

When you are looking to work with a small space, you don't want to misuse the space by adding an overstuffed couch. This will make the space look smaller than it already is.    Scale the furniture to provide the best look for the space by adding an apartment-size sofa that is also close to the ground. This will tend to have the opposite effect on the living area, making it look more spacious.    If you are looking to accent colours and decor by adding elements of shine, such as gold, make sure to blend it well with a good amount of light colours. For instance, if you are looking to add some gold decor to glam up the living room, opt for a lighter shade for the couch and maybe a transparent coffee table to give the space the balance it requires.    Don't simply overload the space with one shine or colour, instead scale the colours to balance for the best look.     

  3. Adding Plants to the Decor

When it comes to small spaces, you may think that there really isn't space for plants. However, you couldn't be more wrong. Plants come in various sizes and you can surely find something to add to your living space that will brighten up the living area.    There is nothing prettier than adding some plants into the mix. So don't be afraid of adding plants into the decor.    You could opt for blooming perennials like daffodils or tulips which add some beautiful colour to the room. Or, you could opt for leafy plants which are too beautiful such as ferns and spider plants.   Plants bring an interesting texture to the room and they work really well to clean your air. Hence, do not forget plants when you are thinking of designing your small living room.     

4. The Sofa for a Narrow Space

Small living rooms often have a narrow space that you have to work with. In fact, living rooms which are narrow and small can be particularly difficult to decorate.    However, choosing the right sofa for a narrow space could win you a brilliantly finished look, ensuring that you make the most out of the precious square footage.    Opt for something like a sectional sofa, one that is long and can easily lean up against a wall. This will give your narrow space more depth.     

  5. White Wall Finish

Though you may consider white to be dull, walls painted in white actually work to provide the most calming effect. You can finish your small living room design with a white-on-white interior.    Simply paring white walls with light and pale shades of furniture will provide for an elegant and classy finish, which will undoubtedly make a small space feel much larger and brighter.    Remember when we spoke about wall colours, how we mentioned lighter shades will make a room look bigger. Well, using white is the best means to acquire this. You can mix splashes of colour and texture through smaller items such as accessories such as lamps and sofa cushions; don't forget houseplants.     

6. Don't Overmatch, Rather Mismatch

Low slung furniture works really well in providing a small space with a larger look and feel. Don't try too hard to match everything. In fact, you could give your space more texture by adding mismatched furniture and decor from different eras.   Use a vintage leather chair, when in contrast with a contemporary sofa, will pop. Though these individual pieces of furniture are mismatched, they will blend together as a seamless complete set.    Mismatching can be a great way to get the most out of a living space. You would find yourself pleasantly pleased with a vintage piece of furniture, which not only acts as a striking feature of the living space but also blends in perfectly with the other colours and textures of the room.   

  7. Pair the Best Furniture Together

Once again, low slung designs are your best bet in ensuring that you get the most out of a small space.    When choosing furniture, find the furniture that works well together and pair them. For instance, large mirrors could be paired really well with the interior design of the room to give more depth to the room by making the room appear bigger than it is.    Just the way, low slung furniture looks better in a small room, mirrors when paired with the furniture provide for a grandeur finish.   For more design inspiration, you could pair a lampstand with an accent chair or the sofa with a side table.     

8. Rely on Modern Styles

If you are designing your living space from scratch, you should make sure that you stick to a low-profile neutral colour for your furniture, giving the space a more modern feel.    Modern styles rely on pattern rugs and of course house plants to provide for contrasting textures with a pop of colour against what should be a pale and light backdrop. The walls and the focus furniture such as the couch should be light. Hence, when you add the colours of a patterned rug, it gives the space a modern and tasteful finish.    If you find yourself trying to set up a floor lamp but are finding it hard to place it in the living area, you should think a little beyond and look to wall-mount the lamp or light.   

  9. Use Shabby Chic

Now, this is basically based on preference. If you like shabby chic, you could design your small living room to have a beautiful style with a mix of light colours which will make the space look much bigger than it really is.   You could use white slipcovered furniture and vintage accents to add some style to the living space while ensuring an enchanting feel which is both comfortable and stylish.    You don't want to go overboard with the colours though. As mentioned repeatedly in this article, you should aim for light and pale shades which will accent the style of the interior and give your space a grander look.     

10. Shelf The Gap

Unless you have your sofa backed against a wall, you may find that there may be room between your sofa and your wall. Now, this is a one-off design issue which only happens in certain circumstances. However, if you do find yourself in this predicament, there are things that you can do.    For instance, you can add a bookcase of shelves to the gap of the sofa and the wall to provide as a sneaky yet effective way to add visual elements to the living room. Further to this, a shelf provides a great place to store things in the small space that you have.    Shelves work well in small spaces, however, you should make a point to make sure the colours blend with the style and feel of the room. Read the full article