#obviously there wasn’t too much for me to sketchy sketch like I don’t even do face lines I added those after lol

[peapod20001]

how do you draw ash,,, I'm struggling to draw him. pls break him down to his essence for me so I can better understand him

He’s got a very simple design compared to all my other ocs, so in theory he should be easy to draw…. But because his design is simple it is very easy to completely fuck up one thing and end up with him not looking right (speaking from experience lol)

So! Here’s my attempt at like. Breaking him down for you. I’m not actually sure if this will help any LMAO but I hope it does :,,) I’ll absolutely do more if you need it tho like anything specific like I had fun doing this

He’s a very round boy, as in like soft edges… really the only points on him would be like. His hair or whatever. He’s got a big mouth for yappin the ear off his family members, and big eyes for lookin at his family, and long arms to hug his family, etc etc.

You would NEVER see him mad like you would my other ocs, he’s the type to start crying when put into a situation that makes him really upset (you probably wouldn’t even see him very upset either as he has a tendency to run away from situations that make him feel bad)

He’s very aware of his body and the space he takes up, so unlike my other gangly ocs he isn’t clumsy at all. He DOES find himself in awkward situations sometimes (like accidentally eavesdropping on people cus they don’t notice he’s there and he’s too awkward to move away cus what if they think he’s listening in on purpose)

He’s not very outgoing with most people and it takes him a bit to really warm up to someone, but once you’re in his good books you are never getting him to chill out. He’s got a serious case of “lack of volume control” and he talks to people like they are across a big room pretty much all the time. If he isn’t yelling he’s probably whisper talking to try and seem less obvious, he gets self conscious about taking up too much space.

He’s a big talker he’s always trying to say something to someone if they’ll let him and often times it has no relation to the current topic or situation (only he seems to notice how the topics flow together) He can and will go on for hours if no one stops him. He’s got like, an internet sized brain in his noggin so he could quite literally go on forever about literally anything (he goes down research rabbit holes for fun)

I should probably stop rambling about him now LMAO sorry I just love him a bunch he’s a nerd

[desi-lgbt-fest]

Day 5: Platonic

A story I wrote for today's prompt. It's a story about two middle aged men realising the happiness they want can come in many different forms.

1. 8 k words.

Cw: Mild homophobia. Incorrect language. It's indicative of character's understanding, not mine.

...

When Vikram Kumar first transferred to their branch, Nath wasn't impressed. Theirs was a small transport company, still somehow holding on against the giants of the industry. They were doing well for themselves; they had branches in few neighbouring states where the business was concentrated. And yeah, the company policy does state that employees should get transferred around every 4 years or so. But that never really happened. Nath had been working at Gada transport ltd for more than 25 years now and the only way anybody new ever came in the office was if someone died or retired.

That was what had happened. Another clerk, Nisha Bhagwan, had a heart attack at the computer and in came Vikram Kumar, a transfer from Nagpur. The office people took to him like animals take to the new clown at the circus. Nobody was really sad about Mrs Bhagwan's passing. She was old and in an office full of other old people, they were just waiting for the hat to drop on someone. Better Mrs Bhagwan than us.

They inquired after him, after his family, his mother's family, his neighbour's family, his neighbour's dog's family. When they found out that he was divorced and currently living in a sketchy hotel, they immediately turned to Nath.

Nath, or Adinath, as his name was, owned two flats in his society. Two flats side by side, one in which he lived. He very famously refused to rent it out to families or students or single women. Which meant, he never really rented it out. It actually quite suited to his own solitary silent life. But he regretted boasting about it in the office because here came his perfect rent.

"I- uh. The apartment is very dirty and I'd have to clean it," he started making excuses.

Vikram Kumar shrugged. "I don't mind. Better than listening to the sex noises coming from the side wall." Raucous laughter emerged, unhampered by the fact that their only woman employee wasn't there anymore.

Nath couldn't say no.

Vikram Kumar did turn out to be an ideal renter. He was silent. No guests. Rent, which Nath had kept a little high to dissuade, always on time. Sometimes old hindi songs drifted from his flat but Nath didn't mind. As his novelty wore off and office people stopped fawning over him, Nath did find himself to be quite okay with Vikram Kumar's existence.

A distinct mark in his favour was that he didn't laugh when at their regular chai break (5 minute break that always turned into a 45 minute one) the others made him familiar with Nath's title as the resident Bramhachari.

"Never married, never looks at a woman," Bhosle, their manager remarked.

"Hey you remember that time when that bombshell came in complaining about some lost package? Nath did not even look away from her face."

"Pakka gentleman, I tell you. He's not the customer complaint manager for nothing."

Everybody guffawed. Nath gave his regular pained smile. Vikram Kumar smiled back. For a moment, Nath thought it was a smile of understanding.

Eventually, Nath started offering Vikram Kumar a ride home on his ancient scooter. He obliged. When the ride turned regular, Vikram Kumar started contributing for petrol. Another mark in his favour.

13 months later, Vivek Chand, accountant, retired. In came a new hire, Ashalata Waad.

Suddenly many colleagues started turning up in pressed shirts and oiled hair. Nath merely shook his head and laughed at their preening. It was their colleagues' turn to laugh when Ms. Ashalata, recently widowed, took to Nath. Furtive smiles. Sympathy over dealing with difficult clients. Nath of course did not notice. But the other colleagues did. And out of sympathy for Ms Ashalata's feelings, they gently took her to a side after a week or so and directed her towards someone more likely to respond; the new divorcee, Vikram Kumar.

That, Nath certainly noticed.

That evening, Nath left without offering a ride to him.

Next morning, everyone noticed the distinct coldness between Ms Ashalata and Vikram Kumar. It was a long day too. Some trouble with licensing of a large shipment, everybody had to stay behind. It was well over 8 when people started leaving. Vikram came over to Nath's desk and tapped on it.

"I don't think this late I will find a riksha like yesterday. Will you please give a ride home?"

Nath sighed. He wasn't petty after all. Well, not much.

The streets were near empty. Theirs was a small town. One that eats at 8 and sleeps at 10. Nath's scooter cut through the silence and the sickly orange lights of the streetlamps like an interloper. They were crossing the Hutatma Chauk when Vikram asked him to stop.

"What for?"

"It was a long and stressful day. I wanted us a relax a bit at the park bench before we go home."

"I'm not going-"

"Please yaar."

Nath sighed.

Stopping the scooter at side, they both walked to the circle where statue of some forgotten freedom fighter stood, benches around it. Surprisingly, there were some people ambling around. Old couples taking a rest from nightly walk. A group of youngsters.

After having the sound of scooter in the ears for past five minutes, the sudden silence was deafening.

"I don't think Ms Waad would be talking to me again," Vikram Kumar started without preamble, a laughter in his voice.

Nath sighed and ran a hand through in thin hair. "You didn't do any-"

"No no, oh god no! I just said I'm not interested. I think that was enough for her to be offended."

"She's not your type?" he probed gently, curious.

Vikram was silent for a moment and then burst out with sudden emotion, "Why does it matter? Why one single woman and one single man can not stay without having an affair? Ye saala bollywood-" Nath hushed him, noticing the people around.

"Sorry." Vikram said, taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

"I get it. Years ago, when I told my father I was gay-"

"You're what??"

Nath felt like he made a tremendous mistake in judgement. But he was a grown man dammit, he will hold his ground!

"I said I am gay." Nath held his gaze. Vikram Kumar stared back, unknown range of emotions passing. Eventually he broke the gaze, ran a hand through his own balding hair and sat back.

He shook his head. "I am not gay, if that's why you-"

"That wasn't-"

"I'm NOT. I like women. I- I mean men are good too. I. I don't-"

Nath couldn't help it. He broke into a loud laugh. Like Vikram had performed some excellent comedy sketch.

Vikram punched him lightly on his shoulder, a smile evident on his face.

"I just meant, men, women. All are same to me. Honestly, I didn't mind being married to Sheela. I provided for her, I cared for her wellbeing. Our.. bedroom relations were less ideal but I didn't shut her out. I did my duty."

"I'm guessing she wanted someone who didn't see her as a duty?"

Vikram shrugged. "She was nice about it. Told me plain and simple she found someone else. We didn't have kids. It was easy. Well. As easy as it could be. She told the court I was impotent for swift divorce. I agreed. It caused drama in families though, which is why I asked for a transfer."

"Mrs Bhagwan died at a really opportune moment then."

They both shared a laugh and things fell silent once again.

"So you are... one of those," Vikram tried to say casually.

The elderly couple had left. A newly wed looking one took their place. Nath suddenly felt he was thrown back in time.

"I don't have much family," he started. "Mother died when I was young. Theirs was a love marriage, quite unusual for the times. They had run away and so had lost their families. My father raised me well enough; started pestering me for marriage when I got the job at 22. I kept avoiding for few years. But eventually I had to tell him. I wasn't going to ruin some poor woman's life." Nath looked pointedly at Vikram. Vikram didn't take offence. Just laughed self-consciously. Mark in his favour etc etc.

"Father raged for days. Didn't raise his hand on me, didn't tell anyone else but we fought a lot. It wasn't that he denied my condition. He just wanted a family. On some level we understood each other. I realise it now. I knew he wanted me to marry because he didn't want his hard fought family to die with me. And I guess, he probably knew what it meant to love someone you weren't supposed to.

He died soon after."

"When you were thirty, I remember you telling me."

Nath nodded. "I was free. I had a place of my own. A job. No family to hide myself from. I felt guilty over feeling relieved. I felt angry at being guilty. Then came sadness over being angry. That sadness stayed for a decade."

Vikram asked, "So you never...?

Nath shook out of his trip to memory lane. "Hm?"

"Are you? A bramhachari? Did you ever find-"

"There were some men here and there. Obviously there wasn't going to be a relationship," Nath scoffed. "If you know where to look, you can find release. But after Father died, I don't know, I rarely ever went looking for anybody. I didn't have it in me."

Vikram laughed. "Look at us. Two old men, all on their own, no happy family for us."

"Speak for yourself, I'm barely a day over 40," said the man, almost 50.

Vikram laughed again, looking at him with such fondness in his eyes. Nath felt sharp fear for a moment. Then he decided to be an adult again.

"You look well for your age too."

"Nath..."

Nath shivered at hearing his name. It was an intimate name. People didn't say it much. But it fit in Vikram's mouth.

"I don't want to change anything," Vikram said. "I'm happy as things are. It's ideal. I can't offer anything more."

Nath got up, brushing dust from his pants. It had gotten late. They were alone at the circle. A vehicle passing by to remind them of the world that exists.

"I'll take whatever you can offer," he said, looking away from him.

"Friendship? For as long as I live?" Vikram held out his hand.

Nath looked at it. Big, warm. Hairy. Pale skin where the wedding ring used to sit. He extended his own and took it.

"As long as I live."

... Let me know if you like it enough to see some other prompts involving them... I have so many headcanons for them.

[worldspinsmadly]

OKAY! This is going to be an extreeeemely long post with my various WandaVision theories! SPOILERS ahead for episodes 1-5, so tread carefully if you haven’t seen them yet! Also, buckle in for a lot of reading haha...

- Agnes is Agatha Harkness

This theory is pretty widely accepted but in case you haven’t heard it yet/need a reminder of what the theory is: Agatha Harkness is a witch in the comic books. She is an agent of Mephisto (basically the devil in the MCU, a sorcerer who is super powerful & does trades/grants wishes but in a monkey’s paw kind of way) and also acts as Wanda’s mentor when she is training. She is there to help Wanda realize her full potential. Reasons for this theory being accepted are:

1. Agnes = AGatha HarkNESs

Pretty self explanatory, this one.

2. One piece of evidence everyone likes to point to is that Agnes is ALWAYS wearing a brooch, much like Agatha. 

In a similar vein, Agnes dresses up like a witch in the Halloween episode (which we get tonight!!). The third comic-y reason is that she says her anniversary with Ralph (whom we NEVER see) is June 2nd, which is the start of the Salem Witch Trials. Agatha Harkness was one of the witches at Salem.

3. She (especially in episode 5) keeps showing up at the exact right time to help Wanda however she needs it. Examples include her showing up to welcome Wanda to the neighborhood and plan the dinner with Vision, bringing her along to the neighborhood planning committee, helping Wanda with the boys (showing up when they’re crying, the doghouse). She is always there, basically acting as a guide for Wanda in the town.

3. She knows that this is a fake world and that Wanda has some control over what happens. This is most clearly evidenced in episode 5 when she says “Do you want me to run that again?” She also doesn’t notice/care that Wanda has magic, which anyone else in the town would. Also - anyone else notice how she overacts constantly? (In a good way - I love Kathryn Hahn)

Which brings me to theory two:

Agnes/Agatha Harkness is the one in control, not Wanda - or at the very least, is using her power to try to influence Wanda’s actions.

1. Agatha is an agent of Mephisto. I think that she is acting on his orders to make this town and Wanda’s life in it the way that it is. Multiple reasons for this, but the main one for me is episode 5 (On A Very Special Episode), she clearly has control over/intimate knowledge of what’s happening inside the WandaVis household. How else would she know to show up when the twins are crying, or when they bring in a new dog? Other sketch things:

2. The boys only ever age up (or attempt to age up) when Agnes is there. I think that she is the one who is making them do that. If she can control every single person in town’s actions and speech, who’s to say she can’t control and manipulate the magic twins’ powers as well?

3. She clearly* killed Sparky, likely in order to try to help Wanda realize how powerful she really is and bring in the idea that she can bring people back to life. It may even be possible that Agnes wants to bring back a specific person but can’t without Wanda’s powers. *To me, it’s clear, because when she walked into the kitchen, Sparky almost killed himself with the electricity but didn’t, and then of course she “found him” in her azaleas.

4. Norm never specifies who “she” is that’s in his head.

MOVING ON TO THEORY THREE:

SWORD and (Acting) Director Hayward are sketchy as fuck, and likely are doing some evil shit and trying to pin it on Wanda.

I don’t mean this to say that SWORD is the organization that put the town in the hex, or is the one that is controlling everything that's happening, but I think it's very clear that there's something going on behind the scenes that they don't want us to know. There are lots of different ways that you can see this, but some of the ones that are most important are as follows:

1. SWORD is clearly developing weapons which Monica highlights when she says, “it also says observation and response on that door not creation.” This is apparently against the mission of SWORD itself, which does not lead to a super trustworthy organization.

2. Director Hayward is clearly trying to place blame on Wanda for things she either didn’t do or didn’t control. The clearest example of this is when he is giving his speech in Episode 5 after Monica comes back, and Jimmy Woo was speaking. Hayward keeps interrupting to explain how Wanda is evil - she joined Hydra (as Jimmy says, it’s more complicated than that), she purposefully hurt people in Lagos (it was an accident), she fought against the Avengers (before gaining their trust and joining them). (Also, side note, I love Jimmy Woo and how kind he is. We need more Jimmy Woo in the MCU). 

3. The video that he shares of Wanda breaking into SWORD...not a single. person. in the SWORD lobby turns, notices, or reacts at all to Wanda walking in, violently throwing open doors, and basically stealing a corpse. I don’t know about you, but if I worked in a secure and secretive government facility, and a rogue Avenger that’s been gone for 5 years just suddenly appeared and was using her powers to break down doors and steal a secret project, I’d probably at LEAST turn and look. 

3a. I’m honestly not even sure that that’s Wanda vs. a body double, like, there’s a reason that the only power they showed was her opening a door, breaking glass, and gently coming down into the room - all things that can be easily faked. You’re telling me that SWORD, in all their advanced tech, space travel, science, money, you’re telling me that the best visuals they have are 1. barely in color 2. blurry and 3. don’t show close-ups of her face? I think that it wasn’t Wanda who took Vision’s body, and I think the footage was fabricated. 

4. CLEARLY - SWORD has been experimenting on Vision. Whether to revive him, recreate his technology, whatever, it is explicitly stated that that is against his living will and the Sokovia Accords. IF (and I think it’s a big if...) Wanda did violently break in to steal his body, it would likely be to protect him and make sure he is being honored, not make him into a weapon. 

NEXT THEORY!

VISION IS ALIVE - and no, Wanda is not just puppeteering his corpse (this is one of the worst theories I’ve heard about WandaVision and I hate it and if I never hear it again it’ll be too soon)

1. I have several reasons to think this. First, if he weren’t alive, why would we have so many scenes of just Vision, or scenes where Vision is figuring out that something is wrong?

2. In the trailers, we see Vision leaving the boundaries of the hex (to be fair, I haven’t watched any of the new trailers, because I don’t want any spoilers) - BUT - how could he do that if he weren’t his own being?

3. I genuinely do not think that Marvel is going to make us watch Vision die again. Not a third time.

How is he alive? I think that there’s obviously an extreme amount of Mind Stone energy within Wanda, and I’m sure that there’s a world in which she could transfer some of that energy to Vision and help bring him back. Not entirely sure of the methodology to be fair, but I just have a feeling in my heart.

OKAY ON TO RANDOM THEORIES THAT I BELIEVE BUT HAVE NO EVIDENCE FOR:

1. Monica came out of the Hex with powers - my only reasoning being that her brain scan and her blood draws were both inconclusive/blank.

2. Wanda isn’t lying when she says she doesn’t know how this started or what’s happening. I think she has more control than most people in town, but I think that’s more that she is a little tuned in to the frequencies of the town than that she started it all. But I really think that Agnes is in control.

3. OH PIETRO - He’s the Evan Peters Quicksilver instead of ATJ (rip) because Agnes had to search through the multiverse for him - she can’t bring people back to life (Wanda can though...ATJ i’m holding out hope...). So anyway, she just searched through the universes and found the closest thing to Pietro that she could.

4. Aerospace engineer that Monica knows might be Reed Richards aka Mr. Fantastic. (The Fantastic 4 and the X-Men have a long history with Agatha Harkness, so it would make sense to bring those characters in now that Disney is able to)

5. Dottie is also a witch - she’s not identified on the magnet board with the other townspeople, she’s in control of some things.

6. Hayward might be Mephisto in disguise, who knows.

7. Magneto is going to come back at the end of the series i have no real reason to believe this

8. I don’t trust the post man.

OKAY THAT’S ALL I have to go back to work and this is way too long please send me all your theories :)

[superthiccthighssavelives]

Give Me a Try Chapter 14

Surprise, surprise, Next chapter already! I made you all wait so long, I figured I would just post as I go along.instead of waiting at set times. Please enjoy.

@linseykalynn @alyss–in–wonderland @primaba11erina @autumnslovex

Chapter 14 - Excuses

I realize I was being irrational, crazy even. I mean, who has a fit over ice cream? I don’t know why he affects me so much, or why I keep running into him. It’s some weird, sick joke. Like I need another distraction, I need to focus. Yeah yeah yeah, I keep saying that don’t I?

I didn’t even look to see what I grabbed before I rushed off and threw my childish tantrum. Now I’m stuck with raspberry ripple, and goddamnit, I hate raspberry. I need to get this article finished, so I can get him off my mind, for good. And I did just that. The article, not the latter. Unfortunately.

I spent a few days busy at work, as usual, I asserted myself for once, and had a meeting with Noreen and Justin. I wanted them to know I appreciated everything they’ve done for me, and I am happy to continue, but I need to know that there’s room for me to grow. I ranted, raved, and pleaded my case for more meaty work. I knew being an intern, there wasn’t much of a guarantee in anything. They talked to Melanie, and she agreed to a meeting with me. Again, I went over everything, I practiced everything I wanted to say so many times in the mirror, I knew it by heart. 

Melanie seemed impressed, she deemed my article regarding the play, and the interview, worthy of being published, and assigned me a probationary column, about art, lifestyle, small events. I could not have been more excited. It not only gave me a chance to show off my writing, but to be able to get out more and enjoy the culture and happenings around my neighborhood. 

My weekends were finally a bit more relaxing. I took a walk down the street, to a cafe I’ve passed many times, it looked cozy enough to relax and get some work done, and scribble down some ideas and plan out some events to hit up. 

I was enjoying some music filling up my ears, eating a bagel, scouring facebook and the local lifestyle paper for goings-on, jotting them down in my calendar, when my eyes met with his. Seriously? Is he stalking me? I thought maybe he came to find me about the article, but that isn’t out until next month, closer to the opening of the play. 

I guess I should be glad he hasn’t come talk to me. I wonder why. I mean, I don’t know what I mean. His smile was distracting me, even if it wasn’t directed at me, but some fluttery girl babbling on to him. I got nosy, and had to take a pass by. She was asking him out. I tried to seem oblivious, still with my earbuds in, but the music had stopped. I felt a painful twist in my stomach hearing her speak and seeing the smile plastered on his face. I’m chalking it up to the cream cheese on the bagel. Or the coffee. Coffee never agreed with me. 

I felt strange. I just wanted to bolt. I couldn’t be there. I made a detour back to my table and escaped as fast as I could. I didn’t want to stick around for the outcome. 

My Saturday afternoon seemed a wash. I went home, and just sat on my futon staring at the wall. I don’t know why I feel like this. Yes I do. I just don’t want to admit it. I fought it with every single molecule inside me. I made excuses to myself, I’m probably going crazy. I needed some social interaction. I took a nap instead.

 I felt slightly better when I woke up, I made myself a real meal, I took a shower, and without even thinking I was getting dressed for a night out. My neglected eyeshadow palettes were put to use. I almost didn’t recognize myself, I don’t know if that was a good or bad thing. I remembered a band with a cult following was playing tonight a few blocks away, besides enjoying some music, I could collect some article info. A few drinks wouldn’t hurt either. 

The band was decent, typical alt-rock, nothing to write home about. I never considered myself a music snob, but I tended to sway toward the more obscure and unique. I threw back a couple drinks, jotted down my thoughts, and felt a strange loneliness. I looked at my phone, but realized I didn’t really have any friends here, or anywhere really. My friend in the states was so busy, we barely spoke. I don’t know if I could consider my work colleagues friends? Maybe. But I don’t think I could text them just to gossip. 

I did chat with a few of the band’s fans, getting their thoughts and what they liked so much about them. They were sweet, and after a few minutes, I decided I'd hit my threshold for the night and carried myself back home. 

I was hoping I’d be tired enough to sleep, but no dice. I picked up my abandoned sketch book and hoped for inspiration. The last thing I had attempted were hands. His hands. Sigh. 

I spent the rest of the weekend watching old black and white movies, and eating too many snacks. 

Having a column was pretty awesome, I’m not gonna lie, even if I haven’t had anything published yet. I was given enough freedom and time to get things together, so the lesser time making phone calls and yelling at people, the better.  But that also freed up time to think more. Not so sure that was a good idea. 

I ventured to a bookstore to see about finding some inspiration for my sketching. That would at least curb the thinking/feeling nonsense going on. All the books I needed were, of course, on the highest top shelf. I wasn’t tall by any means, and there was no ladder in sight, nor anyone to ask for help. I took it upon myself to do a little climbing, only the bottom shelf, standing on the very tips of my toes, my arm stretched as far as it would go, my short fingers trying to just reach a corner to pull it down. 

I felt my legs start to shake, I was extending myself too much, I tried to clutch onto anything in my grasp. Before I could hit the floor, something, or someone, had caught me. 

“Oh god, thank....” I shouldn’t be surprised, really. He must be stalking me.

“You.” 

“Me.”

“Are you stalking me?” 

He chuckled, shaking his head, obviously amused. 

“Sweetheart, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Funny, I see you everywhere I go.”

“How do I know you’re not stalking me?”

My eyes rolled involuntarily. His smile was starting to get on my nerves.

“Sure, I have absolutely nothing better to do than follow a…” I didn’t want to finish the sentence, because I really had nothing to say. My annoyance had no reason, not really. His presence just gets to me, and he totally knows it. He’s so, so, so...UGH!

His eyebrows were raised, an expectant look on his face, waiting. “A what?”

I shook my head. My mouth was closed, my eyes just boring into his. 

His gaze didn’t break either. It seemed like an eternity. The book I was so desperately reaching for was in his hands, tightly gripped.

“Can I please have that book?” I tried to use my most calm voice, even though inside I wanted to yet again, throw another tantrum.

“Only if you tell me what I apparently am, I am dying to know, come on then, out with it” He was definitely still entertained, his sly, irksome, stupid smile still spread across his face.

“Ugh! You’re so infuriating!” I couldn’t do this anymore, these feelings were getting stronger, and I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to choke him or throw myself at him. Maybe a little of both. The kiss flashed in my mind, and my eyes moved to his lips. I felt hot. I needed air. I couldn’t look away. My mouth watered. If I didn’t force myself out of here, this situation...I have to go.

I turned on my heel, attempting to just leave. I was caught by his hand gripping my arm. It set me on fire. Just that small touch. Fuck. 

I turned, facing him again, unsure of what was about to happen. 

He handed me the book, nodded and walked away.

Why did I feel so disappointed?

Chapter 1 - The London Underground

Chapter 2 - Theater

Chapter 3 - The Agenda

Chapter 4 - The Shoot

Chapter 5 - Back to Business

Chapter 5 ½ - Sketchy

Chapter 6 - Tired

Chapter 7 - Drinks

Chapter 8 - Temptation

Chapter 9 - Close®

Chapter 10 - The Interview

Chapter 11 - Strange Birds

Chapter 12 - Exhaustion

Chapter 13 - Mint Chocolate Chip

[nate-santos]

Am I Alive? || Nate & Remmy

Nate didn’t often let people into his life. The few friends he had were the result of long and tiresome interactions as they slowly infiltrated his careful barriers. His own assistant had never been to his house and never knew where he was from. But something about Remmy felt...familiar. They’d both been through hell, though Nate would never pretend to know what war was like. They seemed like kindred spirits, and Nate wondered if he might actually have found someone who could compliment his neuroticism. Plus he knew better than most how hard it was to acclimate after a traumatic event and he wanted to help any way he could. So he donned his puffiest coat – offering more cushion should something happen. He also made sure to grab his sturdiest umbrella, one that he’d reinforced should any fish come flying down at him. The medical examiner had said four people had died so far, and Nate was not gonna be the fifth. After carefully making his way to Coffee Plus, he set up his little area and ordered a latte, waiting patiently with his hands cupped around his mug for his potential employee to arrive.

The offer for another job was extremely enticing, but Remmy would have to make sure it didn’t pay too much, because they could lose their disability if it did. And then, no more writing off Moose’s food, no more HSA, and no more cheap meds. But Nate seemed like a really nice guy, and he seemed to know how Remmy felt. How hard it was to reintegrate into society after witnessing something that inherently changes you. Inside and out. This time, they made public transport didn’t make them late but catching the bus early. Coffee Plus was the station they’d met Deirdre outside of, and if they didn’t get thrown in front of a car again, then it would already be a better meeting. They’d even tried their best to clean themself up this time. Combed their hair, put on their best jeans-- the only pair with no holes or rips-- and their nice jacket. When they arrived, they had to pause a moment outside, give themself that little pep talk that usually given in front of a bathroom mirror. But Remmy’s room didn’t have a bathroom mirror, despite the landlord saying they were going to replace it two weeks ago. The little bell chimed as Remmy pulled the door open and they glanced around. There, in the corner. Right wher eNate had said he would be. He looked almost as nervous as Remmy felt, bundled up in a puffy coat, tucked into a corner, cupping his coffee. They waved as they approached tentatively. “Nate?” they asked. “It’s um-- Remmy. Hi.”

A large grin spread across Nate’s face as Remmy appeared. Thank god they actually showed up. He shifted in his seat and motioned for them to sit. Nervously, his hands fumbled with the pages of one of his old sketchbooks, one that before this morning he hadn’t looked at in years. It made him want to start drawing again, drawing things that weren’t buildings at the very least. He’d have to thank Remmy for reminding him how much he’d loved doing it. “Hey! Nice to meet you!” He held out his hand, careful not to bump into anything. “I’m so glad you came! You want something to drink?” Nate caught his usual barista’s attention and waved her over. “I personally like the lattes, but everything’s really good!”

Remmy noticed the way Nate stayed tucked into himself and close to the table, but didn’t think it was anything they needed to point out or think about. They took his hand, giving it a firm shake. His hand was large and warm and it reminded Remmy of Dario’s hand. They smiled back. “Nice to meet you, too! Finally.” They slid into the booth across from Nate, glancing around. The coffee shop was small, but had that busy, local atmosphere. It was different from any place they’d been in Bangor. “Oh, um, sure! I’ll just have a um...Americano? Thanks!” Looked back over to Nate once the lady took their order. They had their sketchbook tucked under one arm and their eyes fell onto the one Nate had on the table. “Thanks for um-- agreeing to meet me. And-and offering me a job. And...all that other stuff.”

Nate grinned and took a long sip of his coffee. “Really, it’s nothing. I uh, you seem like good people!” He chuckled nervously, trying not to think about how cold their hand was. He drummed his fingers on the top of his sketchbook and fell silent for a moment. It had been years since he’d shown his drawings to anyone when it wasn’t work related, but this...sort of was. “The job is mostly menial, nothing too exciting, but I could definitely use the assistance.” He shrugged, thinking about the kid currently interning for him. Bobby was next to useless, especially when it came to moving samples around the office. “But whether you take the job or not, I’m happy to have met you!” He began to slide his sketchbook over, his knee bouncing at a hypersonic rate. “Plus I never get to trade art with anyone! Not trade trade, but like...look over pieces...share, that sort of thing.”

“You seem like good people, too,” Remmy said back. This was nice. This felt nice. And normal. Pleasant, almost. They eyed his sketchbook, before setting theirs on the table as well, still holding tightly onto it. They’d never actually shown anyone else their stuff. Except some of the other officers at the camp. “Oh, um-- I’m not sure mine are gonna be really good enough to like...compare to yours, I’m sure. But I’m glad I get to see yours! I’ve never exactly….shared this kinda stuff before. Wasn’t exactly um-- encouraged in the troops.” Stop bringing the mood down, Rem. They shook their head. “But, I mean-- I’m good with menial things! And physical labor. Also good at running errands! Whatever you need! If um-- you decide you like me.”

Nate laughed, wringing his hands anxiously in his lap. “Oh, definitely no comparing here! That’s the worst thing artists can do, really. Everyone’s styles and strengths are so different, like…” He reached out and opened his book to a rather choppy looking portrait. “Soft lines, not my thing. But straight edges, flowing concrete, somehow that I can do.” A hand reached up into his hair and began to twirl. “I’m sorry you weren’t uh...encouraged. Art’s….soothing. Even if what you draw isn’t.” Nate had specifically not brought the book he’d kept right when he first found himself in White Crest. All the images in there were charcoal drawings of pure angst, sadness and desperation. These sketches weren’t great, but they at least weren’t morosely depressing. “Well I already think I like you!” Nate grinned, hoping he wasn’t coming on too strong. He hadn’t realized how desperately he’d needed something as normal as coffee and a job interview, even as lax as this was.

“Really?” Remmy asked. They leaned in a little more when Nate opened his book, gazing in with wide eyes. “Wow, that’s so good! You’re really good.” Hands tightening on their own book. “Oh, it-it’s okay. I don’t think I coulda done anything with it, anyway. I guess it just helps...occupy my mind. I don’t mean like..busy work, or whatever, but yeah-- soothing. Like you said, it’s...soothing…” They remembered how the group therapist had encouraged writing or drawing as an outlet. Remmy had taken quite to it. They liked drawing what they saw, copying down detail in an almost hyperfocus manner. “Well, I think I like you, too! You’re really nice and open and...not weird. If that makes sense? Not that weird is bad! I’ve just met a few...really weird people, too.”

Nate nodded, sucking down more of the hot bean juice. “Like I said, anyone can be an artist. Doesn’t matter if you do anything with it. Just so long as it makes you feel good.” He shrugged, his eyes falling to his lap and his cheeks flushing. Nate never could take a compliment. “I cannot promise that weird won’t end up popping up,” he laughed nervously. What was he supposed to say? I’m normal now but wait till I die in some freak accident and come back trying to eat your brains? “But I’m glad I’m not the weirdest person you’ve met here. I mean, I hope.”

“Hey, a little bit of weird isn’t bad. Don’t they say like, normal is boring or whatever?” Remmy grinned. “You’re not, definitely not. I think the woman I met who tried to push me into a car is the weirdest I’ve met so far.” They shrugged it off. Deirdre was a mystery they didn’t really wanna think about right now. The waitress came back with their order and they took it gratefully, taking a long sip. “Um…” they pushed their notebook over towards Nate, a little tentative, a little shy. “I-if you wanna look.” Though they would never admit it, as they weren’t sure of their own talent, their eye for detail gave them the ability to draw from life fairly well. Thin pencil lines, sketchy figures, and some doodles of animals riddled the sketchbook, an unorganized mess, unlike every other aspect of their life. Some drawings layered on top of others, like stacks of photos. They sipped their coffee again.

Nate smiled, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “I respectfully disagree with those people. I’d take normal over weird any day.” Nate’s life was already filled with too much weirdness. “Wait- like she was shoving you into a car or...throwing you in front of one?” Nate’s brow furrowed and he felt oddly protective over this person he just met. “Of course I wanna see!” He reached out, delicately turning the pages of the sketchbook. It was practically exploding with creativity. Lines and shades he’d seen but never really seen, it was so unlike his personal style and so refreshing. You could see real heart. “These are amazing, Remmington. Remmy? Which do you prefer?” He glanced up for only a moment before being sucked back into the book.

“Kinda...both? I’m not really sure. She said she wanted to test something and almost threw me into a taxi. It was fine, obviously, but I got kinda mad at her after that,” Remmy said, as if getting thrown in front of a car was a normal thing. In all honesty, it just didn’t strike them as odd. After all, they’d stuck their hands into a live case of TNT before. Was getting hit by a car really that much different? They felt their chest tingle as Nate delicately flipped through the notebook, suddenly so nervous they couldn’t even drink their coffee, just hold the cup tightly. “What? Really? Y-you think so?” Swallowed. “Oh, um-- either! Either is fine! I don’t mind.” They rolled their bottom lip between their teeth nervously. “I just...like drawing what I see. Nothing special…”

Nate’s mouth dropped open and he had to actively think about closing it so as not to be overly rude. “She- on purpose?? Yeah! I’d be mad too!” Nate nearly had a heart attack just thinking about the ordeal. But he looked back down to the drawings to distract himself. They were really good. Not professional, but that didn’t mean anything to Nate. He actually felt most professional artists were stuck up and rarely creative. “Yeah, Remmy, these are awesome!” He beamed up at them. “I like what you see.” It had been so long since Nate had really stopped to look around, flipping through Remmy’s sketches was like being unafraid to wander through town. It felt free. “You should keep this up. Seriously. Even if it’s just for you.”

Remmy couldn’t help but give a shy smile. “Th-thanks. I, um-- I will. I haven’t had much time lately between all the...stuff, but...I think I’ll try and make time.” They smiled over at Nate, finally relaxed enough again to sip their coffee. “So, um-- do you like, design the buildings and stuff? Or just do more like...blueprints stuff? I’m not-- sorry. I don’t mean to sound like...rude, but I’m not really sure what architects do, like a hundred percent? I’m totally willing to learn though!”

Nate cocked his head to the side. “Like all the getting shoved towards taxis?” He frowned, hoping Remmy wasn’t befriending people that would willingly shove them into oncoming traffic. It wasn’t entirely unheard of in White Crest, especially in the seedier areas. Yet another reason to never leave his house. “Oh, yeah! It really depends on the project, and most of what I get to do around here is restoring some of the town’s older buildings, making sure they’re up to code while maintaining the historical integrity of the design.” He smiled softly, taking another sip of coffee. “But every once in a while someone wants to build an entirely new house or business, then I get to flex my creative chops.” He sighed dramatically. “Those fun projects don’t tend to come around as often, though, so sometimes I just teach a class at the college.”

“Yeah,” Remmy sighed, “like that.” They still hadn’t parsed out Deirdre’s actual intention with doing that. Was it to see if Remmy would move? If they would let her? If they would get scare and run away? It still baffled them, but she hadn’t been eager to talk after that, so the answer would likely never come. So Remmy would concentrate on the here and now. “Wow, that’s so cool! I had no idea that’s what architects actually did...do you go to the houses and like actually help build stuff? Or do you just do more of the like...drawing and planning stuff?” They couldn’t help but be excited by all this. They’d always loved learning new things, even if public schooling had made them feel inadequate. “And you get to teach at the University?? That’s SO cool!”

Nate frowned, already feeling the twinge of protectiveness over this person he’d literally just met. Remmy had already been through so much, they needed a soft place to land, not a place where people literally threw them into oncoming traffic. But he would drop it- for now. Not like he was in any position to go hunting down this person, and to do what, exactly? Yell at them? Punch them? Neither of those things were in Nate’s wheelhouse. “I don’t do too much building, but I do get to visit the sites sometimes to help oversee everything! A lot of what I do is actually project management and organizing the construction crews, but I’ve gotten to know most of the crews around here pretty well, so they send me progress photos and stuff. It’s really cool to see an idea you have come to life right before your eyes.” Nate paused, smiling sheepishly to himself. “It’s really not that cool, most people find it kinda boring. But I love it.”

“Oh, I think that sounds amazing!” Remmy blurted, without thinking much. They reigned themself back in sheepishly. “Sorry. I just-- I don’t think it sounds boring at all! I think that sounds amazing. Getting to do something that actually changes the world around you...even if it’s just a building. And seeing it in progress? That’s just…” they trailed off a bit. “That’s incredible.” They took another long sip of the coffee, realizing it didn’t much taste like anything. It didn’t fill any sort of need inside of them. Not like it used to. “It sounds kinda lame but...when I was younger, I think I always wanted to do something that could, like, change things for the better. I guess that’s why I thought going into the military might...you know. Be like that.”

Nate’s eyes lit up. He so rarely spoke to anyone, let alone about his work, it was refreshing to be able to gush about it to someone who thought it was as interesting as he did. Well, maybe not as much, but at least Remmy was feigning interest! “I’m glad you think it’s interesting! I could definitely tell you more about it, and I mean, if you come help out, you’d get to see a lot of it first hand, too.” Nate knew exactly what they meant. It was the reason so many of his high school peers had enlisted, not knowing what else to do but needing and wanting to do something. He smiled softly, feeling his body loosen a bit from the tense ball it had been in. “I’m Sorry. If it wasn’t, I mean. Like that. Doing something for the better. Or that’s presumptuous- was it?” And he tensed right back up again as he stuck his foot in his mouth.

“Oh, yes! That would be great!” Remmy said excitedly. They had no idea someone would think they were just pretending, because Remmy didn’t have it in them to lie or pretend. “I’d love to learn all that stuff! Even if I’m no good at it, I think it’d be cool to know!” They sipped the coffee again, their legs twitching excitedly. Remmy had never been this excited before. Was this was it meant to find something they loved? “Oh, um-- I think it was, a little. I don’t um-- it’s hard to explain. I think there’s better ways to change things, but...it felt like my only option. I wasn’t the smartest or funniest or strongest. So...that was pretty much it.” They shrugged. “But, I mean-- as far as job offers go, I um-- think I’d be happy to come work for you. I-if you’re still looking.”

Nate sometimes felt like he was looking in a mirror when he talked to Remmy. They’d only known each other a short while, but he felt like he understood them in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. Sure, some of that might be how excited they were about architecture, but it was something more than that, too. Nate remembered what it felt like to be so lost, heck he was still unbearably lost. But when he did what he loved, it wasn’t quite so unbearable. It was part of the reason he hadn’t tried to just end things. Seeing Remmy light up like this, it ignited something in Nate too. “I would be more than happy to have you join the team, Remmy.” He grinned, holding out his hand more confidently than before. “Welcome to the family.”

Remmy couldn’t remember the last time they’d been this excited. They couldn’t remember the last time they’d felt this hopeful. Sure, it was just an assistant job, helping out around Nate’s firm, but it was more than anything they could’ve hoped for in coming to White Crest. Being a security guard was easy and it paid the bills, but it wasn’t exactly the most riveting job. After being in the field for so long, Remmy had found life wasn’t exciting anymore. Remmy took Nate’s hand eagerly. “Thanks, Nate. Really, thank you so much.”

@whatsin-yourhead

[heartsofstrangers]

What has been one of the most challenging things you’ve experienced or are currently experiencing?

“Probably drug addiction.”

Tell me about that.

“Since I was fourteen years old, the first time I ever tried it, I’ve been intermittently addicted to crystal meth. The past four years, it’s been pretty consecutive other than the four months that I spent in jail two years ago. I guess that’s the gist of it.”

When did you start using it?

“I was about fourteen years old. I used to do it every other weekend with a group of shitty friends that I had made.”

What was going on in your life at that time?

“I had just lost my best friend, who was like my brother; we grew up together. He died from complications due to diabetes. I saw that they were using it and I had taken Adderall before. I thought it was like Adderall, except you could snort it or smoke it, and I thought that’s always fun. I recognized that they were carefree on it, and I wanted to be like that, so I did it.”

What was it like the first time you got high?

“It was sketchy and I was on edge. I don’t know if you’ve done any sort of upper, but it’s intense. It actually made me feel disgusting for a while. I felt really gross the entire time and then coming down was awful, but something inside me wanted to do it again, so I did. It disconnected me from the world. All that really mattered was scribbling on a piece of paper for hours on end. I guess it was really getting lost in reality.”

How did your life unfold—were you in school at that time?

“It kind of caused me to ‘fail out’ of high school; I didn’t drop out, but failed out pretty bad. I had to retake my sophomore year on the computer and graduated at the bottom of my class because of it, or the choices I made while on it. I don’t really know if I was in control or not then.”

You talked about jail—how did you end up there?

“I got arrested leaving a drug deal in June 2015 and then, after my parents bailed me out, I stopped going to court for the probation sentence and a year and a half later, they picked me up at my older brother’s apartment at 11:00 p.m. Six bounty hunters apprehended me and  then I spent the next four months in Montgomery County. I was there for Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas, New Year’s Eve, New Year’s, and almost my birthday, all behind bars.”

What was that like?

“Honestly, it wasn’t that bad. It was pretty shitty and I was very confined. I was in a sixteen-man room for the most part. It was me and fifteen other people, all in a big-ass room full of bunk beds, having to stare at each other all day.”

Where did that lead you to mentally? Did you process anything in your mind about where you had been, where you wanted to go, where you were?

“I just wanted out. It kind of made me feel like an animal. In Texas, I don’t know what it’s like anywhere else, but you become state property when you’re incarcerated; you lose all your rights. Basically, you’re a body with a name. You’re not a human in there. It’s weird.”

How long ago was that?

“It was January 2017.”

Where did you end up when you were released?

“Back to my older brother’s, and he does dope too. I went right back to where I started, or stopped at midway.”

So, you were sober and clean in jail?

“Yes, while I was there.”

Did you go through withdrawal?

“I slept for the first four days. I didn’t eat or use the restroom; I just slept.”

So, you get out, move back in with your brother, and get right back into it?

“The night that I got out, I used.”

What’s your relationship like with your family, aside from your brother?

“I don’t talk to them, only whenever they speak to me and, even then, it’s usually just my mom, and it’s like once every two weeks, sometimes twice.”

What are those conversations like?

“I love you, I miss you. I love you too, I miss you too.”

Do they live locally?

“They live about two hours away.”

Do they kind of push you away due to your addiction?

“I alienated myself because I knew I’m not anyone a parent could be proud of—that’s how I feel. Because of my problem, and I don’t want them to see me like this and I won’t let them. So, I pushed myself away from them.”

Have you done that with close friends as well?

“I’ve done it with everyone.”

So, who are you associating with, dealers and other users?

“Yeah. I dated this dude for almost a year and he basically isolated himself away from me recently because of it. That really fucked me up a little bit because I feel like I put so much into it, but really it was just me high as hell, overthinking everything, all the time, slowly dissipating into nothing.”

It’s got to be a pretty lonely feeling to be that isolated.

“Yeah, but you’re never really alone when you’re a drug addict.”

Because you’re connecting with your substance.

“I’m perfectly fine with being alone, but I’m not okay with how lonely I am most times.”

Are you scared at all to continue down this path?

“Yeah, because I don’t know where my life’s going. So, I just get high and it’s like ‘where are you going now?’ to go get high.”

How can you afford to get high?

“My best friend sells it. My only friend just happens to be a drug dealer.”

Are you performing any sort of acts or anything in exchange?

“No, no, no; we’re just really good friends and misery loves company. He’s basically in the same spot I’m in.”

What are some of the things you’ve lost along the way through these years of addiction?

“Honestly, I lost my sanity, a lot of good friends, and a close tie with my family. I lost my car. I lost my license. Somehow I lost my social security card, but I don’t think that had anything to do with drugs. I lost my apartment, but that was at the beginning so that’s not a big deal.”

Where are you living now?

“I live with my friend, Pat, who is also a drug addict, but he’s a more functioning one, I should say. He’s held a job for four years and his addiction is kind of new and, ironically enough, I’m the first one he ever tried it with, which is kind of funny or fucked up.”

Have you ever been in any situations where you felt like your life was being threatened?

“No, not really. Not that I can think of, but I don’t know . . . no.”

How’s your judgment when you’re high?

“You can rationalize just about anything. For the most part, I would say it’s pretty good. There are dumb people who get addicted to drugs and there are people who are addicted to drugs who already have a good grip on reality and are able to make the right decisions or rational ones at least, but I’ve done some pretty stupid stuff.”

What are some of the stupid things that you’ve done?

“Not put the filter on a vacuum cleaner and small things like that. I’ve never done anything really stupid like rob anyone. I did, however, one time throw a brick through a window. I was super pissed off at the person who lived at the apartment and, in a fit of rage due to addiction or substance use, I picked up what was closest to me, which happed to be a chipped piece of concrete by the curb and chucked it threw the window. I don’t know how’s that going to fix it, but it made me feel better. It was really stupid.”

Prior to losing your friend, had you experienced any sort of obstacles early on in your life that taught you some coping skills to deal with grief, pain, or challenging experiences?

“To isolate; that’s all I’ve ever really known. Get over it and, if you can’t, shut up about it. That’s what I was basically taught.”

Do you want to stop?

“Yes and no. Crystal meth is the only thing that’s kept a roof over my head while, at the same time, it’s kept me on the edge of losing that. It’s the only thing that sort of keeps me connected with the real world because I have friends and acquaintances who use and who keep me from going insane living alone. At the same time, those people come and go. Those people aren’t necessarily friends you want to keep around; they’re people who are just going to bring you down because they’re going to keep you high. I’m aware of that but, at the same time, I can’t stop. So, yes and no. I was sober for about a month and moved to New Mexico with my ex. That didn’t turn out well, obviously. He flew me back here on a last-minute, overnight flight and I started using again.”

How old are you now?

“Twenty-four.”

So, you’ve been using for ten years?

“Just about.”

Any issues with your health?

“No, not that I know of. I probably have shaky hands, but so does everybody.”

Do you sleep?

“Yeah, every night, which is kind of an achievement really if you’re a crackhead like me. I’ve kind of plateaued. I’ve reached a level of tolerance that makes me have a normal sleeping schedule, which is something you really don’t want to be but, at the same time, I’m glad I’m there because now I’m normal-ish. I don’t look cracked out.”

What’s your biggest fear?

“Dying—not from drug use, though I guess that would suck too, but just dying in general, because I don’t know what’s going to happen after that. Maybe my biggest fear is actually not knowing and being unaware.”

In contrast, do you feel like you’re living?

“I feel like I’ve been dead since I was about twelve, but I don’t think that had anything to do with drugs, but the realization of how fucked up the world really is. I think I’m living in a way—I get to do shit that not everybody gets to do, like not have to work, I’m able to explore the city, and that’s what I do every day. I go to different parts of the city and sketch around, but I’m probably not really living, not in a way that’s (I guess) savory.”

Did you grow up here?

“No. I grew up two hours northeast, in a little town, Cold Springs, with about 900 people, and that’s consolidated because it’s a bunch of small towns put together.”

What brought you to Houston?

“Drugs. I bounced from circle of users to circle of users to circle of users until I ended up in Kingwood. Kingwood is right on the outskirts of Houston. I just migrated over here, made friends wherever I could, and now I’m here.”

When you agreed to do the interview, did you have any idea that you’d be talking about this?

“No, not at all. I honestly had no idea what it would be about. I was just like ‘an interview, okay, that’s fine.’ I thought maybe it was going to be ‘how do you feel about Houston’ or some sort of typical bullshit interview, but I didn’t think it would make me open my eyes to shit I’ve been closing them to or haven’t said out loud in a while. I’ve said this stuff before, ‘I don’t want to do this.’”

How does it feel to hear yourself expressing these things?

“It kind of pisses me off.”

In what way?  You’re pissed at yourself?

“Yeah, because I know I’m just going to go get high afterwards.”

Are you high now?

“No. I used, but I’m not high. I guess that’s high; I don’t really know. The last time I used was about six hours ago. I get high and then there’s other days where I just get by and, today, is a just a get by day because I didn’t do too much of it.”

What happens if you don’t use?

“I sleep and I’m dead to the world basically, which is probably what I am now, but in a different way because I’m asleep. I’ve slept for thirty-six hours straight before and my friends have asked if I had a bladder infection, and I said that I was good, just tired. When I woke up, I had muscular atrophy, where I couldn’t really feel much, and then I’d just waddle around until I found food, and then I was good.”

Would you say you’re depressed?

“Probably clinically. I used to take Pristiq, but it didn’t mix well with my meth use, so I cold turkey stopped taking it after about six months. It’s a serotonin replacement or something, but I thought it was kind of bullshit. I’ve been told before by friends that I’ve been manic; they would say ‘wow, you’re pretty manic’ and I’d say ‘yeah, I know.’”

Do you think you were like that before the drugs or has that manifested since?

“Half and half. I’ve always been kind of bipolar-ish, but this has really intensified it or brought it to a meniscus versus overflowing. If it was overflowed, I’d probably be in prison, but it’s definitely got to that point.”

What keeps you in that elevated state?

“Being aware that I’d probably go to prison, so to stay at a constant ‘that’s okay.’ It’s not necessarily the way anybody would want to live.”

What were you like as a child?

“I didn’t take ‘no’ as an answer. I wasn’t a spoiled brat or handed everything I wanted, but I didn’t have to ask for much. I never really had to go without anything. My parents weren’t wealthy, but they were comfortable, and have been that way as long as I can remember. For the most part, I’d say I was a pretty happy kid.”

How did you meet your friend who died?

“We were neighbors. He was like my brother. I don’t have close ties or close relationships with anybody like I did with him. He was the first person I could ever really say was my best friend. When you’re a kid, grandparents, aunts, uncles, parents’ and grandparents’ friends die, and  you say ‘oh, that’s sad.’ But, when your fourteen-year-old best friend dies, basically out of the blue, he just wakes up one morning and then he’s dead . . . That shit really happens, people die, people who you know die, people you’re close with die, and it’s hard. It sucks pretty bad, especially when you’re that young and you don’t really know how to take it in. You know how you’re supposed to take it in, you know how people do it, and you see it in movies, but there’s something inside of you that dies too, and you can’t wake it up. Josh was my best friend and was like a brother to me. We did just about everything together.”

What would you say to him if he was here now?

“That I’m sorry. I would tell him that I’m sorry because, at this point, I would have probably alienated myself from him too. I guess given if he had left and came back. Yeah, I would tell him that I was sorry because I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted to see me like this.”

What do you think he would say to you?

“I don’t know. He’d probably call me an idiot, but I’m not sure.”

If you could go back to your twelve- or fourteen-year-old self in that time in your life, as the adult you are now, what would you say to that child?

“Don’t do it. You’re going to fuck up. Don’t do it, but that twelve- or fourteen-year-old probably wouldn’t listen anyway. He’d probably think that I was stupid because ‘no’ is not an answer and ‘don’t’ is not a reason.”

What were you passionate about at that age?

“I really liked art and liked to draw. I haven’t actually picked up a pen or pencil and drawn anything since I was about seventeen. My senior year of high school was a pretty heavy usage year. I was focused on doing that versus something that made me happy.”

How does it feel when you’re drawing or creating something?

“It’s instant gratification, kind of like vacuuming is to me now. I did it, it’s there, that’s something I did, it’s something I completed on my own, other people get to see it, I get to see it, know that it’s done, know that I did it, and I like it. It’s a successful feeling, but I haven’t felt that in a minute.”

Did you have any other outlets that you felt a connection to?

“I listened to music a lot. Even now, I listen to music all the time. I never played any instruments and I’m not really talented in any other way, but I like music.”

Do you write at all?

“No, not at all. I don’t even remember the last time I wrote something down. My handwriting probably looks like someone trying to write with their left hand. I’m not used to a pencil or pen; it’s unfamiliar.”

What’s the first thing you do in the morning when you wake up?

“I drink coffee sometimes; that or Coke, which is terrible for you. I eat, smoke a cigarette, and then smoke dope (I guess use).”

Have you ever felt hopeless and suicidal?

“Yes, at least twice a week. I feel like I’ve reached a point where there’s no way of turning around. I’m twenty-four years old and I already hold a drug possession felony. No one’s going to want to hire me, so I haven’t tried to look anymore. I have basically no friends, especially if I were to stop. My family and I aren’t really close and they don’t want to help me anyway. I feel like there’s not a good enough reason to want to keep living but, at the same time, I’m kind of too much of a pussy to kill myself.”

So, you’re just kind of slowly and passively doing it through using drugs every day and not taking care of yourself.

“Pretty much.”

Is this what you thought you’d be doing tonight?

“No. I knew I was going to be doing an interview, but didn’t think it would be such a reflective one.”

If there was someone else out there listening to this or reading this who could relate to where you are in your life and where you’ve been, and possibly feeling hopeless or numb, or even just alone, what message would you want them to hear and know?

“That they’re not alone. There are other people just as fucked up as you are. I have a really bad mouth, it’s probably just another side effect of drug use. They’re not the only ones who feel nothing or like they are that.”

Is there any part of you that sees a different future for yourself other than your situation right now?

“Yeah, but it’s all sort of hazy. If I were to try to picture it, I couldn’t put the pieces together. It’s more like an audio clip. I can hear myself ���all right, you’re sober, you’re good, life’s okay,’ but I can’t actually see it. It’s like there’s someone with my voice telling me that, but I don’t see it with my own eyes or inside my own head. I can’t picture it and to me that just tells me it’s not a thing. If you can see it, you can achieve it, and I can’t see it.”

Is it possible that that’s faith? Do you have faith?

“I have something; I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if I’m pessimistic or I’m realistic, but I don’t think I have faith in myself; that’s what it is.”

Why?

“Why should I? Maybe I just doubt myself more than I have faith in myself.”

All the various skills you’ve developed to sustain what you’re doing today could be used in the opposite direction to sustain you in a way that you might thrive.

“I’ve managed to be able to live without any sort of resources other than the kindness of strangers for the past three years, so that’s good; that makes me something.”

That’s strength.

“I’m probably evil. I don’t think I’m a bad person for it—surviving strictly on the kindness of others. It sounds terrible when you say it like that. I’m just getting by how I can.”

What would give you hope?

“Probably better resources. If I knew there would be something to catch me whenever I fell off this horrible plane ride of whatever it is I’m going through now. If there was a safety net that would give me hope. Now knowing that I would hit rock bottom and fall to my death if I were to stop, I won’t stop because of that. If there was something to catch me, and if I knew it would be okay and there was a better support system other than the people who are constantly throwing dope in my pipe, then I probably would stop.”

It’s hard to see that in any situation. I can only speak for myself, but for me, I could never see what was going to catch me either, whether I continued to perpetuate self-destruction and didn’t want to not feel pain anymore, but didn’t know how to end it without inflicting more pain on myself, or to follow my heart and intuition and move in the other direction. My life started to change when I listened to my heart and moved in the other direction, but it was just as scary because I couldn’t see how I was going to have the resources I needed and somehow (and I’m not a believer in your traditional God or any type of religion) miraculously I had what I needed when I needed it. It didn’t ever come in the way I expected it to, and yet it was there, some sort of ground beneath my feet, and that gave me faith and restored my faith that if I had enough courage to continue to be vulnerable, enough to step out of my old behaviors, to step out of the routine, and step out of the comfort, even if it is perpetuating discomfort—somehow it’s familiar so it’s comfortable—if I had the vulnerability and courage to do that, something would catch me. I remember early on looking for people who were going to save me or thinking that all these various opportunities that presented themselves were going to be the quick fix that would save me. What I continued to learn, and to repeat over and over again through making that mistake of thinking someone else was going to save me, is that I had the power to save myself all the while. All the resources I needed were within me. I had to think them into reality: thought, action, reality. Yet somehow, we train ourselves to think it’s going to come the opposite way, that it comes from the outside in, but that wasn’t my experience. I don’t know if that makes any sense to you.

“It does.”

I can relate to that feeling of being stuck. You know you want to get off that ride, but you don’t know if there will be anything to catch you if you’re to get off. So, you stay stuck.

“I made up this fun little terminology of being plateaued. You’ve reached a level where there’s nothing much around other than the great distance between you and the ground and it’s not high enough to put you up in the clouds where you need to be. So, you’re there, drifting above the surface of rock bottom and normalcy.”

It’s like being in limbo.

“Yeah, or purgatory. I live in purgatory. Actually, it might be hell. I live in gray, very gray, not a whole lot of color there.”

Are there moments where you see or feel color in your life?

“There’s a lot of blue and, when it’s not blue, it’s red but, for the most part, it’s gray. I don’t really feel much but, whenever I do, it’s usually just sadness. I get so sad and I feel like I can’t do much about it, so again, I get angry, then I get so mad that I cry and that makes me even more sad, and then I’m mad that I’m crying, so it’s purple or gray. It’s not really a colorful journey—this life. It’s like an old-school comic book, it’s all grayscale with a little blue and a little red.”

What do you know about the process of grieving?

“I don’t. I know that it sucks. I don’t know how to get over it. You can either sweep it under the rug or you can actually deal with it, and I’ve just been sweeping it under the rug. Anything that I’ve ever lost, I’ve been ‘all right, shut that down, shut that down’ and only ever pick up where I left off, which is having it suck basically, whenever someone lifts that rug up for me ‘thanks.’ So, I guess I don’t know much about the process of grieving.”

I’m not particularly sure about the order, but there are five stages of grief. I think you’ve mentioned a few of them, like the deep sadness, the anger, and there’s a stage of blame, transferring that uncomfortable feeling onto someone else, making them responsible for your suffering. There’s also acceptance, which I think is a hard one to come to; we avoid a lot by repressing. As long as we can keep it stuffed down, we don’t have to look at it or accept that it happened. Until we do that, we’re not truly moving on, whether it’s grief or trauma. I had a woman tell me in an interview, and it’s very profound, she said when she started to heal the trauma, the addictions started to go away, and that really stuck with me. I believe that we continue to connect with whatever our substance is, whether it’s our phones, drugs, alcohol, money, or sex, to avoid looking at the wound, but the only way to heal a wound is to treat it with compassion and kindness.

“Not a big band aid?”

No. I know in our culture and in our families, we’re taught to discharge pain, to move away from it, and stuff it down.

“The sun gives you a sunburn, stay away from it kind of thing.”

Yes, but growth, transformation, awareness, wisdom, empathy, joy, and love are all qualities that are developed through leaning into pain and discomfort, not from running away from it. Everything that we long for—that sense of real meaningful connection, fulfillment, sustenance in our life, and purpose—is on the other side of that pain, and there’s no way to skip over it or go around it.

“You got to go through it and deal with it.”

Yeah. It’s shitty. I don’t know what’s worse, spending your lifetime running away from it or feeling shitty for a period of time, then having some relief, and maybe recognizing that you’re resilient, you do have potential, and there is more to life than this grayscale and constant fear of when is the bottom going to drop out.

“I feel like I’ve hit rock bottom a couple of times, like literally scraping my teeth on its surface is where I’ll probably want to stop but, at the same time, I’ve probably hit that part too. It seems like chilling at the mantle.”

Do you have a favorite song lyric, mantra, or something that someone has said to you, maybe even your friend or your parents, that has stuck with you that you’d like to share?

“There are lyrics to a song that says ‘if you talk me out of my needs and stitch me up at the seams then I can live in my dreams’.”

What’s that mean to you?

“It’s kind of sad, if you think about it. If I didn’t have to do the things I have to do, then I’d be happy. If I didn’t have to wake up and get high, I’d probably be okay or if I didn’t require x amount of blah, blah, blah then I’d be cool, things would be okay, and life would be a dream. But, that’s not how it is and I’m living a nightmare. Yeah, talk me out of my needs and stitch me up at the seams, I can live in my dreams.”

Do you think it’s possible to heal?

“Yeah. You just got to rip off that band aid I was telling you about. I don’t know. I feel like, metaphorically, my band aid is waterproof and I don’t want to pull it off because it really hurts, and I don’t want to deal with it, so I slowly pick at it, but eventually I just stick it back on. Yeah, it’s possible to heal; tons of people do it, right?”

Yes. It’s a matter of surrendering. It’s like showing up and saying ‘I don’t know how this is going to turn out.’

“But doing it anyway.”

Yeah. That’s courage, right?

“Yeah. I don’t think I have much of that. Like I said earlier, the fear of the unknown, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do it, so I don’t try it.”

What’s worse? It seems like you have more to lose by continuing and knowing that the rest of your life may look like it does right now or there’s a risk that you may feel some discomfort for a while, but there’s a chance that things could get better.

“I don’t know. I should probably stop using, because it’s not helping me. I wouldn’t necessarily say that it’s hurting me either, but that’s probably the drugs talking.”

Who would be the first person you would call, if you were to make that choice?

“I’d probably call my mom. Yeah, that’s probably who I’d call. I’d probably tell her to come get me. I’ve done it before. I’ve told her ‘I need you to come get me. I need you to fuckin’ stop what you’re doing and come get me’ and she has; she would do it in a heartbeat. The last time I called her and said that was about three years ago. I’m not too sure how or if she would be okay with it or how she would go about it, but I’d call her. I need to call her actually.

“Not only for that, but I miss my family a little bit, a lot. I haven’t seen them. I spent that one Christmas in jail, but the two after that—I didn’t go, the one before that—I didn’t go. I haven’t been home in so long. I haven’t actually seen my mom in a year—that sucks. For a long time, she was my best friend. She was always a shoulder and an ear. It’s been a while, a long time.”

I hope you do make that phone call.

“We Snapchat sometimes, which is kind of weird. We’re actually Snapchat friends, but I haven’t snapchatted her in about six months. I sent her a text about two weeks ago, and that’s about it. I haven’t heard her voice in a long time. I can still remember what she sounds like, which is kind of surprising. Usually whenever I cut things off like that, I completely disconnect from it. I don’t know what they look like. I don’t know what they feel like. I remember her and her voice; it’s weird.”

Do you think she would answer the phone now if you called?

“She’s probably asleep right now, but yeah she might answer. If not, she would text me ‘what?’, but I think she would answer.”

I hope you make that call after this interview. How has it felt to talk about these thoughts, feelings, and experiences with me tonight?

“Surprisingly, not bad. Like I said, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. At the beginning, I thought it was probably going to be annoying, but I didn’t find it that annoying because there was a level of comfort versus judgment. I didn’t feel very judged at all.”

It’s a beautiful thing, you being vulnerable.

“Is that what this is?”

Yeah, and you being met with empathy. It kind of kills shame, which I think feeds addiction.

“Probably, yeah, needing to hide something.”

It’s a heavy weight.

“It will suffocate you. That’s always good.”

It’s lethal; it really is.  Do you think it’s possible by sharing your thoughts, feelings, and experiences so courageously tonight, as you are, that someone on the receiving end gains some hope, inspiration, or at least a sense that they��re not alone?

“I would hope so, because this wasn’t that easy to do. Yeah, I think they probably could if they aren’t stubborn assholes like me, and listen all the way through. Because if I were handed this to listen to, read, or watch, I’d probably stop paying attention halfway through; depending on my state of mind I might say ‘I don’t want to hear that.’ If I actually listened to it or if someone like me listened to it from A to B, they’d probably like it; they’d probably get it.”

Yeah.  Thank you.

“Thank you. You’re welcome.”

I’m really proud of you. This was a really courageous thing to do and you skipped right into it.

“I ripped the band aid off that time.”

You did. I hope you’ll continue to do that.

“There’s a bunch of open blisters and sores here—this sounds so weird.”

Thanks.

[dylan-hague]

Chapter 2

“You’re a pilot, right?”

Van glanced up from his drink at a girl in a rather drab beige robe cinched tight around her body that covered most of her face. The robe was immaculate, without spot or wrinkle despite the squalor of their surroundings. He couldn’t help cocking a brow; if she was attempting to go unnoticed, she wasn’t doing it very well. She carried herself far too proudly, kept her shoulders too square, held her head too high. But there was a craze behind her eyes, one that spoke desperation, He scratched at his chin for a moment as he looked around the cantina. Nobody seemed to be paying attention. Seemed nobody had noticed her. This sort of hire had a tendency to get him into trouble… but having spent the last of his credits on that fill-up, Van wasn’t exactly in any position to turn her down.

“Uh, yeah.” He smiled. “Van Taris, pilot-for-hire. You got somewhere to be?”

The girl nodded, frantically it seemed to Van’s eyes. “An orbital station, above Bonumaan.”

In the back of his head, Van felt a twinge of excitement spark. Bonumaan was a ways out. That kind of a trip.... that would be the ticket right there. But he wasn’t fool enough to say as much aloud, instead feigning a half-sneer. “Ick… Never liked Bonumaan,” Van replied. “So muggy everywhere you go… least, where I’ve been. Big planet, all that.”

“But you can get me there, yes?”

“Of course, yeah, but uhhh, y’know... not free.” Van pulled his sleeve back and began punching in a few quick calculations on his wrist console. It was a simple little gadget, mainly just used for this exact purpose. “Lemme see… We’re on Natoth, and Bonumaan is about… 2400 parsecs Rimwards... rounding down, anyway, to save you money.” Van winked at the girl. People usually liked that bit. “That’s gonna be a couple days’ travel… maybe we can stop over on Takodana--”

“No! Please, we have to be as fast as possible.”

“Alright, alright! No stops…” Van continued, changing his calculations. “So accounting for fuel cost these days, food and water for the road, plus my extra twenty percent…” A moment of further calculation, then a quiet ping from the console. “That’ll run you 1680 NRC.”

“Can you take Imperial?”

Van frowned. “Sorry, I… people still do Imperial? That was… that was kinda before my time. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s alright, nevermind…” The girl dipped a hand into her robe and pulled out a stack of 500-NRC chips. Four, to be exact. Van licked his lips; that was a big fat tip.

“Now, I can’t make exact change, you gotta understand…”

“It’s fine,” the girl urged. “Just… please. I have to hurry.”

Van nodded, turning back and draining the rest of his drink. It was an effort to hide his excitement. 2000 credits… back in the day, that would have been enough for a pretty decent used speeder bike. Nowadays… well, Van would put it to good use. Maybe get the Bird shopped up, see if he couldn’t improve her fuel-rate so that his current situation didn’t happen again. Between the creds, and his tank filled up now… Van liked his odds of making it home.

“Alrighty, you got yourself a pilot. If you’ll follow m-ohhh…” The pilot shook his head as he stood up from his stool. He never drank anything too strong, but perhaps that had been a bit of a chug. He cleared his throat and got his feet back under him. “Okay, okay. Follow me, Bluebird’s this way!”

Van led the girl on a quick jaunt out of the bar and across town, in the chilly Natoth air. This particular hemisphere was hitting the middle of winter, and things on this system got particularly cold, cold enough to build up ice on the windows of any structure without proper heating. He liked Natoth well enough, but he didn’t have the blood for it. He blamed Naboo for that one.

Rinng met him outside his ship, covered in grease. Van produced his last 5-credit chip and dropped it into the mechanic’s hand. He would have tipped more, but he was going to need every credit of that 2000.

“Hey, hold on before you take off,” Rinng called after the pair. Van turned curiously back to the tendril-headed fellow. “I noticed a bit of buildup around the base of your cannon, so I went ahead and cleaned it off for ya.”

“Oh, thanks man! You really didn’t have to do that.”

The Nautolan waved the comment aside. “I’d go ahead and fire up the bioshields, get started warming those windscreens up. You know how bad the ice gets these days.”

“Thanks again, Rinng. See ya soon.” Van offered a sloppy salute as he opened the Bluebird’s hatch and led his passenger inside. As he eased himself back into his seat at the helm, he heard the klik-ssssssssssssss of the station’s fuel line disconnecting. As he began firing up the ship, the fuel tank showed at full capacity. While that was always a good sight, Van still couldn’t shake an odd feeling about this gig. Last time he was on Natoth, he picked up a shady character… admittedly he’d been more obviously sketch than this lady, but he’d picked him up in the Cantina just like her. Cheap scum didn’t even leave a tip, and Van was pretty sure he saw the creep try to swipe his blaster on the way out the door. All said creep got away with was a holster… which Van had to replace, since the creep apparently just up and disappeared a day after he left the Bird and couldn’t be hunted down. Either way, this gig still seemed on the verge of being sketchy, but these days… again, 2000 is 2000.

Van grinned as the engines roared to life, and the Bluebird began to lift up out of the station. He quickly pulled up his astrogation chart, plotting a course for Bonumaan, past Takodana--avoiding open space, for Rinng’s sake--as the ship lifted itself up through the atmosphere.

“So!” Van called, turning to see the girl strapping herself in. Nearly swallowing his words, the pilot hurriedly secured his own safety belt as well. “Once we make the jump, that’ll put us just past Takodana, at which point we’ll swing around the planet and make a second jump to hit Bonumaan. Normally I’d just shoot straight there, but I’ve heard about some, uhh… well, some unsavory activity goin’ on right in that sector. Do hope you don’t mind.”

“What sort of unsavory activity?”

“Fighter Jockies,” Van replied with just a hint of a sneer. “Pirates. Like to blast apart good honest travelers, then pick at whatever’s left of their ships like animals.”

“Sounds like you’ve encountered them before.”

“I have,” Van said grimly. “I was lucky I’d just hooked my cannon controls up to the helm, because I didn’t have a gunner with me. If I hadn’t sprung for the upgrade, they prob’ly woulda blown me right outta lightspeed, scattered what was left of me across the whole parsec.”

“How would they fire on you at lightspeed? No weapon can fire that quickly.”

“Not a cannon. Some of ‘em have these big ol’ blades strapped to the flanks of their fighters. So long as they can swing in beside you, they’ll carve your ship wide open.”

“That’s horrid!”

“You’re absolutely right,” said Van, “which is why it’s such skiff that the Senate can’t decide on what to do about it.” He paused for a moment. “Uhh, pardon my language.”

“It’s fine.”

Van turned back to the helm. “Anyway, I’m gonna take us around the other end of Tako just to be on the safe side, alright? If it helps, I can offer you back 20 credits.”

“Don’t worry about the money, I just need to get to that station soon…”

“Don’t suppose you have any reasons for the express treatment you’d like to share?”

The girl frowned. “I’m sorry, but I can’t say.”

Van held up a hand. “Totally cool, pretend I didn’t even ask.”

They had just passed into the void of space, pinpoints of starlight shining through the blackness stretched out forever before them. Van wrapped his fingers around the warp switch and turned back to his passenger. The girl pushed back into her seat and offered a single nod of confirmation. The pilot whipped back forward and slowly pushed the switch forward. The stars stretched and shone brighter and brighter, until the blackness of space gave way to a swirling vortex of shimmering blue hyperspace.

“Beenine. Stabilize, please.”

“Of course, love,” came a voice from overhead.

The girl jumped. “What was that?”

“Oh, that’s Beenine. She useta be a droid, but then we got into a scuffle with an ex-Imp cell. One of ‘em had one of those riot batons, Beenine took a hit. Lucky me, I was flying into Nar Shaddaa at the time, so I swung by a chop shop, got her patched up as best I could. Beenine, say hi!”

Van pointed up over the console, where built into the ship itself was installed the round head of a protocol droid. The girl let out a little gasp as the droid’s illuminated eyes.

“Nice to meet you, love. Designation B9-V at your service. Welcome to Taris Travels, ready to do all we can to make your travels as smooth and swift as possible.”

The girl blinked profusely for a moment, but she nodded. “Pl-uhh, pleasure to meet you.”

After a moment longer, the Bluebird’s pressure-stabilizers kicked in, alleviating the force pressing the ship’s occupants into their seats. Van heaved himself up from his chair and stretched. “So!” he started, “lemme show you where everything is. Don’t worry, she’s a real small ship… sure you noticed on the way in.”

The tour was brief. Van had two sleeping quarters on opposite ends of the Bluebird, one for himself and one for his passenger, or two for his passengers if he was flying for more than one. The pilot’s seat was a perfectly fine napping spot… usually. Foodstores and a very, very rudimentary kitchen took up most of the lower deck, and the rest of the ship was either working parts or storage. Van made a point to keep things cozy. Sure, it was a source of occasional complaints, but what did it matter? This ship wasn’t a home to anyone but Van, and Van liked things the way he had them.

“I believe I’ll retire for a bit, if it’s all the same to you,” said the girl. “Forgive me, but it’s been…”

“Hey, I get it,” said Van. “That’s what the beds are for. Take a load off. I’ll be up here keepin’ an eye on things.”

The girl bowed, and disappeared into the hallway. Van turned back to the swirling hyperspace before him.

Beenine’s head swiveled down to look at her pilot. “So what do we know about her?” her voice came from a smaller speaker on the console now, rather than the overhead speakers.

“Not a thing,” Van replied. “Picked her up in Sen-Trill.”

“Sen-tr--” Beenine sighed, an exaggerated sort of sound. “Captain, we’ve discussed this, nothing good comes out of Sen-Trill.”

“Well that doesn’t change the fact that we’re out of work,” Van shot back. “She gave us 2000 creds, we can’t afford to turn that kind of money down!”

“Is this about Life Day?” Beenine groaned. “We’ve had this conversation a thousand times! Just Comm your mother, she can take care of it!”

“And I’ve told you a thousand times, I’m not doing that! I’m a grown man, I don’t need a handout from my mother.”

“Your credit account says differently.”

“Bee! We literally just got 2000!”

“And before that, you had six.”

“Oh, shut up and plot us a course!”

Both pilot and droid let out exasperated half-shouts as they went back to their respective duties. Van would never think about wiping Beenine’s memory, but times like this she just tested his patience so much…

Just keep flying, Van thought to himself as he gazed out the windscreen. His eyelids grew heavy, and he felt weariness settling on his shoulders like a great weight. Everything will work out fine if… if you just keep… keep... flying...

[s0meday0neday]

Don’t Lose Your Head - Outtakes #1

So, on a few occasions I would write nearly a whole chapter for Don’t Lose Your Head, and then slowly realise as I wrote it that I really didn’t want the fic to go in that direction. They’re all just piled up at the bottom of the word document I keep the fic on, so I figured I’d share!

This was a potential chapter where the whole ‘school bullies’ topic from Chapter 7 made a comeback. (if you somehow have no idea what I’m talking about, check out Don’t Lose Your Head, my Breaky fic on ao3: link)

“Brian, darling, when you said you wanted to take the new van for a test ride, this really wasn’t what I had in mind,” Freddie remarked, looking entirely dissatisfied with the whole state of affairs. Brian wasn’t really focused on him, he was more intent on looking out of the window. Seeing that Brian was paying no attention to him, Freddie continued.

“You do understand that just because it’s a bit of a sketchy looking van doesn’t mean we have to act like criminals, yes?” he drawled, leaning over to rest his head on Brian’s shoulder from behind, following his gaze. “And I don’t know that ‘Yes, officer, I was spying on those school children, but it’s okay because one of them’s my boyfriend’ would be met with a smile.”

That prompted a response out of Brian, finally.

“Four more months, and you and Rog won’t be able to make those sorts of jokes anymore. I can’t bloody wait,” he muttered.

“Four more months and perhaps you’ll finally get laid and stop acting so bloody uptight,” Freddie retorted quickly, “Honestly, what are you even looking at? He’s just sitting there. You know he’s going to spot us soon enough, and he’ll be terribly annoyed.”

It was indeed a rather dull view by most people’s standards. Saint George’s Secondary School for Boys had been hastily rebuilt after the war, and it showed in the ugly grey façade of the school’s main building. The gates looked a little newer, but they also looked like prison bars, providing a partially obscured view into the school’s outdoor recreation area. A few benches and a football pitch were all that could be seen from the street, but it was enough of a view for Brian, since John was currently occupying one of said benches.

“We were just in the area, and I’m checking up on him, that’s not weird,” Brian said absent-mindedly, and Freddie scoffed.

“We’re in the area because you drove us here!”

“I just… Look, do you remember that time before Christmas, the guys from his school were in the audience and he was a bit upset by it all?” Brian sighed, shifting to face Freddie, who nodded.

“I thought the two of you sorted that out though?”

“So did I! And I forgot about it a bit, and John didn’t bring it up again. But then I started to think it was strange that he hadn’t, because he’d been so worried about going back in on Monday and he never told me what happened,” Brian said agitatedly, finally letting the worries that had been stewing in his head for the past couple of days come rushing out. “I thought… Maybe if something was up, this would be the way to find out.”

“And what have we observed so far?” Freddie asked, with a slightly more sympathetic tone now.

“Nothing much… But he’s eating lunch alone. That doesn’t seem normal.”

“You have to remember that John’s quite the introvert, I think he likes his alone time,” Freddie reminded him gently.

“I guess,” Brian sighed, slumping forward against the steering wheel, “Maybe I was just being paranoid… But I still feel like-“

Both men jumped when their conversation was interrupted by a sharp rapping of knuckles against the van window, and Brian nearly had a heart attack when he saw who the sound had originated from.

John, who had somehow magically transported out of the school gates, knocked again, looking puzzled and a little bemused. Brian quickly rolled the window down.

“How did you get out?” was the first thing he asked, heart still racing a little at having been caught.

“How did I… What do you mean? I’m a sixth former, I’m allowed to leave at lunchtime,” John replied, sounding increasingly confused, “I thought you knew that. Why else would you come?”

“We were just… in the area,” Brian replied hesitantly. He could tell immediately that John knew that was a lie, but the younger man let it slide, “How’s your day been?”

“Oh, not bad. Not fantastic either. Just average,” John said with a shrug, leaning forward to rest his forearms against the windowsill of the van, “Quite a bit better seeing you here,” he added softly, cheeks flushing when Freddie made some sly comment about flattery.

Before Brian could reply, he noticed John frowning, and shifting away from the window a little, reacting to something out of Brian’s field of vision. He could certainly hear it though.

“Who you talking to, Deacon?” The voice was unfamiliar to Brian, but evidently not to John, who abruptly pulled away from the van, expression shuttering into something carefully blank unreadable. As Brian watched, a pair of boys – both clad in the same uniform as John – stepped out into view, obviously heading in the direction of the school gate but slowing down to address their classmate. John opened his mouth, as if to reply, but closed it again without a word. He looked painfully uncomfortable, even if he wasn’t letting it show on his face.

“Hey,” one of the boys, who Brian quickly marked as the ringleader, called, “I asked you a question.”

Brian wasn’t quite sure in his own mind why he wasn’t doing anything.

“A friend,” John replied, voice so soft Brian could barely make it out, “I was just heading back though.”

He watched, helpless, as John turned to make his way back to the school gates. Watched as one of the boys made some jeering comment as John approached, and the other gave him a jab in the ribs that was played off as amicable, but clearly wasn’t. Watched as a foot was stuck out in John’s path, and the younger man stumbled on it as the pair of boys roared in laughter. John looked so horribly miserable in that moment that Brian finally felt kicked into action.

It seemed Freddie had had the exact same idea, but about five seconds earlier, because he was already out of the van and cursing up a storm.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, you little piss-flaps?”

John swung around, eyes wide and a little horrified as he and the other boys watched Freddie approach, quickly followed by Brian.

“Why don’t you come and try to knock me around like that, hm? What? Not in the mood for it when it’s three against two?” Freddie continued, as Brian made it his mission to get closer to John. Let Freddie do the yelling, he was better at it.

John still looked like a deer caught in headlights. Brian sorely wanted to pull him close, but knew anything like that would have to wait until they were back in the van at the very least. Luckily, that didn’t seem too long away, as Freddie seemed to have scared the bullies off back past the school gates.

“And don’t think I won’t keep to that threat if you lay your grubby paws on Deacy again!” was as much as Brian caught of the end of his volley of threats and insults. He was far more focused on John, who seemed to still be processing what had happened.

“Let’s get back to the van, okay?” Brian suggested, putting a hand on John’s back to guide him back to the other side of the street, and hoping that there were no teachers around to see what was happening.

John put up a token resistance, murmuring something about afternoon classes, but Brian wasn’t having it. He knew John had near-perfect attendance, he could afford to skip a couple of hours.

The drive back was frustrating for Brian. Since Freddie had never bothered to learn to drive, and John hadn’t yet passed his test, Brian was stuck behind the wheel and forced to focus more on the road than on his boyfriend.

Fortunately, Freddie had started to worm himself into the group of people John was relatively comfortable around, and so he filled the journey with outrageous anecdotes and seemingly-innocuous questions that slowly drew John out of the nervous state he was in. By the time they arrived back at the house, John was even smiling a little as Freddie recounted the tale of a particularly terrible gig the band had performed with a different bassist.

Finishing off his story as they stepped over the threshold, Freddie glanced back at the two of them – catching the look Brian sent his way – and smiled. “Well, you two want some alone time, I’m sure. I have some sketches I wanted to finish, so I’ll leave you be,” he said, disappearing into his own bedroom with a wave, and leaving John and Brian alone.

---------------------

As soon as Freddie left, John felt his chest tighten again, anticipating that he was on the verge of having a conversation he really didn’t want to have. He seemed to be having a lot of those lately, but he supposed it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Rather, it was just a result of being so close to Brian, close enough that he couldn’t simply hide things that bothered him and wait for them to go away.

That didn’t stop John from wanting to hide this, though.

It was almost a small comfort that Brian seemed just as uncomfortable as he did, though Brian also seemed quite upset, which John hated to think he had caused. Before John could dwell on that fact too much, though, Brian spoke up.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked.

“Fine,” John replied quickly and, seeing that Brian didn’t seem to believe him, added, “Better than earlier. Thank you… For sticking up for me.”

Brian seemed to accept that answer. “It was more Freddie, I don’t think I did very much,” he said as he led John up the stairs, “Is it okay if we just sit down for a bit? Just… talk, and be honest with eachother.”

It sounded very nice in theory, but John decidedly did not want to talk about the incident Brian and Freddie had intervened in. Talking about it seemed a worst prospect than reliving it. Still, he followed Brian up the stairs, and into his bedroom, nestling up close to Brian when the older man sat on the bed.

“First things first… I think it’s pretty obvious that wasn’t the first time something like that’s happened, right?” Brian started. He sounded like he was enjoying this conversation just as much as John, that is to say, not at all.

John just nodded, fingers plucking at a loose thread on one of the blankets covering Brian’s duvet.

“Is it the same people who came to see us playing a couple of months back?”

Another nod, careful avoidance of eye contact.

“How often has it been happening? Stuff like that, I mean, the tripping and the- the teasing?” Brian asked, arm wrapping around John’s shoulder, a comforting weight.

“Not often. Maybe two or three times a week. We don’t share any classes,” John said. Seeing how Brian didn’t seem at all happy with that answer, he pressed on. “It’s not as bad as you’re thinking, Brian. I can manage it. It was only today I froze because you were there and I felt…” Humiliated. Juvenile. Weak. Helpless.  “I knew it would upset you,” he finished awkwardly.

“But I still want to know about this stuff, John. I’d rather be upset than blind to it all,” Brian sighed, “I wish I could do something.”

“Aren’t you the one always saying I’m practically finished with school anyway? It won’t be an issue much longer,” John pointed out.

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said that…” Brian muttered, which John latched onto as a good enough way to change the topic.

“What did you have in mind?”

Brian gave him a bemused look, then smiled and shook his head a little. “I had in mind you having a lot more free time,” he began, leaning closer and lowering his voice, “And me taking advantage of that free time to do a lot of things I’ve wanted to do for a while.” And then, just as quickly as the huskier tone had come, it was gone, and Brian drew back a little, “But you’re changing the subject. We need to think of something we’re going to do about this, or I’ll feel like the worst boyfriend in the world.”

John racked his brain for a solution. In all honesty, he really, truly didn’t mind much. What Brian had witnessed was the extent of how bad things got, and John’s main fear – that bigger groups of people would be drawn in and put the spotlight on him – had never come to fruition. Usually, he was perfectly capable of just carrying on his way and ignoring it. It was only Brian’s presence that had caused the issue.

Despite the older man’s assurances, John

At this point, the author realised she didn’t want to go in this direction with the fic, and scrapped the whole chapter without ever proof-reading it even so don’t come at me for typos ;P

[avengemebuckyy]

Sketchy 👀📝

Summary: Steve’s been crushing on you for a while but is forcing down his feelings….Well all that  tension has to go somewhere… and it manifests in his sketchbook.

Warnings:Language, not much else I think, it’s long lol I got carried away

Note: This is my first ever fic, feedback is appreciated! Even if its just ‘It was too fast paced’. Thanks for reading!

Steve Rogers had a problem. For some reason he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of you. It’s like his eyeballs had decided to separate from the rest of his body and follow you. Constantly.

This problem had started about a year and a half ago when you had come to the compound and started working with the reconstructed Avengers. You were a former SHEILD agent, hand to hand combat and espionage were your strong suits. You were also friendly and smart.

Steve knew he was in trouble when his first thoughts on meeting you were about how pretty you were. So he maintained his distance from you, keeping cordial and almost cool relationship. But keeping his distance didn’t stop his mind from wandering. Or his eyes.

“Wow,I really ain’t shit to you”

Steve’s head whipped around to meet Bucky’s grin.

“Huh, sorry?” Steve mumbles. Bucky laughs. “I was tryin’ to ask ya if you wanted some eggs,but your mind seems to have wandered.” Bucky leans against the kitchen counter top, they had just completed their morning run, and had showered before heading into the kitchen to grab breakfast. Where Steve found you already sitting on a stool at the end of the counter, talking to Natasha and a visiting Clint. You were wearing that skirt, the pleated white  one that was short enough to make him sweat a little every time he saw you in it.

“Oh, I’ll have some, sorry ‘bout that” Steve says.

“Oh no, it’s fine, after all your mind seems to have wandered to more… pleasing things.”  he jerks his head in the direction of your figure. If it was possible, Bucky’s grin gets wider. “Damn now those are some legs.” He gives a low whistle. Steve feels his face heat up and he whips his head around to make sure you didn’t hear. But you were too far away and too involved in your conversation. Bucky’s recovery is still ongoing, but in the past couple of years he slowly but surely made marked progress. Enough progress that he began to socialize and started giving Steve a hard time again. Steve’s glad that he is feeling better, but man if he wasn’t a pain in the ass sometimes.

“Don’t you have some fuckin’ eggs to make?” Steve hisses lowly throwing Bucky a glare, who in turn just laughs and grabs a saucepan from the counter.

“You’re not as slick as you think Stevie,”

Steve’s brow furrows as he tries to apply the right amount of pressure to get the shading right. Now more so than ever Steve finds himself turning to drawing as a way to relax. He had opened some windows in the kitchen and sat at one of the stools at the counter with some coffee and a snack. He finds he goes through phases,  a section of his sketchbook was filled with sketches of birds, followed by drawings of only buildings, and then depressingly desolate landscapes. But now he’s going through a different phase. One that has him checking over his shoulder every time he sketches out in the open. Recently it seems like his infatuation with you bubbled over into his drawings. He smudges the shadows that fill out the curve of your smile. The page he’s working on is filled with sketches of your face in different expressions. The one before that was of your face at different angles. 

He supposed it would be easier to forget you if you weren’t so sweet. And patient. And funny. Steve had had several moments where he almost laughed at a joke you had made when he wasn’t even in the conversation. And even though he tried to give you the brush off you always were friendly when interacting with him…and those legs…He found himself flipping the page and before he even knew what he was doing, the outline of you  sitting on a stool, legs crossed, was on the page. Then your figure in that tight dress you wore to the last party Tony threw joins it. His neck heats up. A sketch of your ass from that one time you wore tiny cutoff shorts soon follows. Damn he still thinks about those shorts sometimes. His whole body heats up. He feels like a creep, drawing you, but he can’t help himself….and admitting that makes him feel creepier. He rubs his hands over his face and groans.

“Rough day?” Your voice makes him jump, but when he catches sight of you he almost falls off the stool. You’re wearing a red bikini and water is trickling down your body. You seem hell-bent on giving him a heart attack.

“Something like that,” He says stiffly, flipping pages back in his sketchbook when you turn to get something from the fridge. His eyes trace your form, and he bites his lip to keep from groaning out loud. ‘How is it even possible?’ Steve thinks to himself ‘to have a body that looks that good?’ You bend over slightly to get something and Steve feels himself start to sweat. ‘I gotta get outta here.’

“Well,its an amazing day outside.” You stand up straight and turn towards him, Holding two water bottles and a Popsicle “I’m gonna spend the day by the rooftop pool, swimming and trying to finish my book…if you want to join?” Your voice tips up hopefully at the end. It takes a moment for Steve to realize you asked him something because he’s too busy watching the path of water droplets down your body while trying to not look like he’s watching water drip down your body. His mind scrambles and goes then blank.

“No thank you,” he finally musters and it comes out harsher than he intended. And Steve’s too busy getting the hell out of the kitchen to see your hurt expression. Or realize that he left behind his sketchbook.

Steve makes a bee-line to where he knows Bucky will be. He finds the brunette sitting in his usual spot, this time joined by Sam, and playing checkers. This makes Steve crack a smile. The two are constantly giving each other shit, but they’ll never admit that they’ve become pretty good friends.

Steve screeches to a halt in front of the window seat.

“Ya got the devil chasing ya or somethin’, Steve?” Bucky looks up and smiles at Steve.

“No something much worse.” Steve sighs and plops down on the floor in front of them. The men exchange an amused  glance.

“What, Y/N caught you drilling holes into her head?” Sam says. Steve’s head whips up.

“Excuse me?”

Sam and Bucky burst out laughing.

“Man you think you’re subtle?” Sam snickers. Bucky moves his checker and snorts. “Like I said, ya ain’t slick, Stevie.”

“I-I uh,” Steve stutters, flushing.

“I’m pretty sure even Fury’s noticed by now” Sam says moving his checker and Bucky chokes, coughing out a laugh.

“Just make a move already.” Bucky says.”Ya obviously like ‘er and the distant act ain’t fooling nobody, what with the way you watch her.”

“Amen.” Sam says, and raises an eyebrow. “And lets be real, a girl that smart and that fine won’t stay single for long.” Bucky nods.

Steve groans, running his hands through his hair. “Shuddap, don’t you guys have a game to play?”

Bucky and Sam share another smirk, but keep quiet, focusing back in on their checker game. Steve sits back and watches them play, listening to them making small talk. But his mind keeps on wandering back your body in that bikini…. he wanted to be able to call you his ….what he wouldn’t give to just hold you…. …you always looked so soft….

He doesn’t know how much later, but he knows he must have zoned out for a little bit because Sam is snapping his fingers in from of his face get his attention and the checker game is put away.

“Hey you want to order a pizza and watch a movie?”

“Yeah sounds good.” Steve smiles and stands, stretching, his joints making popping sounds. The three men make their way down the hallway and are entering the living room when Steve hears a voice calling his name.

It’s you. And you’re holding his sketchbook.

Steve’s stomach bottoms out. ‘Can Captain America enroll in witness protection program?’

“Hey, mind if I talk to you for a bit?” You say, jerking your head towards the hallway, and Steve nods glumly. His heart is pounding painfully and he squares himself for the inevitable rejection and disgust. He follows you into the hallway. Scratching the back of his neck.

“Listen I-” he starts, but you interrupt.

“You know you’re a really good artist. The birds almost looked they were gonna fly off the page.” You hold up his sketchbook “I’m really sorry about being nosy, but you left it open….and your art is amazing.” You sheepishly look down.

Steve’s eyes widen. Maybe you hadn’t flipped far enough to see the drawings of yourself? Relief soaks down his body.

“Uh thanks,” he says, taking the sketchbook and moving to get away.

“Wait, can I ask you something?” You say and he nods, freezing.

“Do you draw from memory or use models?” you ask curiously.

“Uh, usually I like having whatever I’m drawing in front of me for the beginning of the sketch, it helps with accuracy.” Steve mumbles.

“Oh, okay” you say, and step closer and closer until Steve can feel the warmth of your body heat. Steve swears he stops breathing. “You know,” you start, your face a hairsbreadth away from his. “You really are an amazing artist. But if it helps with accuracy you should let me know the next time you’re going to draw my ass. I’d love to model for you.” with that You smirk and turn, heading back down the hallway. Steve stays frozen for a few more seconds staring  at your retreating figure before glancing back to the living room where Sam and Bucky are arguing over movie choices and then back at the hallway.

There’s no question.

“Hey! Y/N wait up a second!”

[96percentdone]

imaginepartybabyz

 “someone ask me for viktuuri fic recs so I can just get this post out...”

hey skylar give us... the good reccomendations for the good content I LONG for it...

@imaginepartybabyz Y’know half the reason I wanted to make this post is because of your fics. I can’t rec your own fics to you Noa. It doesn’t work out.

I’m gonna try to keep the super popular fics everyone and their mother has already read off the list. Y’know the ones that show up every fic rec. Anyway let’s begin. Under the cut!

Finished Fics:

Masks off by emulikule  “And so the story goes that a playboy comes to a town, makes it fall in love with him and then proceeds to get himself enticed by the most mysterious person there. Wait... did it really go like that?” Alright so I am weak for stories where a character loves two people, and it looks like a love triangle, but those two people are actually just the same fuckin person and they have a secret identity or some shit. It’s why I like Miraculous Ladybug. This fic??? It has that. Also it has fucking masquerades. It’s great.

Lifetime Record by futuresoon  “Victor Nikiforov is a lot of things: a celebrity, a genius, the world's greatest men's figure skater, the object of Yuuri Katsuki's idolization. He's also been dead for twenty years. When Yuuri returns home in search of something to inspire him to get back into skating, what he finds is someone eager to help, unconventional, and incredibly, desperately lonely.” So I don’t typically like ghost fics because the concept of them makes me depressed. (”They can’t be together really if one of them is dead!!”) But I read this one anyway. Because. it was on the tvtropes fic rec page and didn’t contain garbage, and I have no regrets. Listen if you’re afraid of an unhappy ending. Don’t be. I hate tragedies. I would not rec this if it was one. Believe me. It’s an emotional ride.

lie to make me like you by cityboys “It’s become a game, of sorts, to anyone privy to the fact that the pattern exists in the first place: ask Victor out at the beginning of the month, date for however many days, and wait for the end to come and for Victor to say, always: I couldn’t fall in love with you. Let’s break up.” Now the truth is I really could rec all of cityboys fics because they’re all works of art but I told myself to just pick one so this list doesn’t end up 90% them. And this fic. Let me tell you. It’s fucking beautiful. I think the most wonderful aspect of this fic is there’s tension, but there isn’t like extreme angst. The climax of the fic isn’t incredibly stressful, even when there is build up to it. I think it’s truly wonderful. Also this fic singlehandedly got ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” stuck in my head forever. 

Impostor Syndrome by renaissance “At some point, most people with a childhood crush will imagine meeting their idol, and might even pretend that they're dating. This is the story of how Yuuri Katsuki meets his childhood crush, and how they pretend that they're dating.” Alright we need one fake dating AU on here and this is it. This is peak fake dating AU. It doesn’t get any better than this. Everyone else go home. No but seriously this fuckin fake dating AU. has just so much going for it. At the start it seems pretty standard, but the way it develops. HOly shit. Just. Just read it. 

not gold like in your dreams by ebenroot ““Victor, you could have let some psychopath into your apartment.” “Oh come on, he’s not a psychopath,” Victor chides.Christophe makes a gesture with his hand that says ‘are you seriously this naïve or are you drunk at work again?’. “Victor, you don’t know that. You don’t know anything about him. Whose name am I going to give to the police or face I’m going to describe to the sketch artist when they find your body chopped up like Hannibal Lecter’s side dish? ”-- in which Victor and Yuuri are roommates and Yuuri has a secret“ So this. Is a Penelope AU. AKA a movie I never watched, which should be a testament to how good this fucking fic is because damn. Like. You don’t have to see this movie just read this fic. It works fucking perfectly. Yuuri is constantly hiding his face in Viktor’s apartment and doesn’t give his full name, and Viktor is like “this is kinda sketchy but it’s fine” and then romance. I just made this sound so much worse than it is but listen. I was emotional. I felt things. I don’t always feel things but I felt them here. Just read it.

And Miles to Go Before I Sleep by Orchids_and_Fictional_Cities “Katsuki Yuuri has been cursed to spread misery and grief to those who dare to come close to him. Viktor Nikiforov has been sentenced to wander the earth, unable to die, granting wishes to mortals in the hopes that one of them might give his life meaning in exchange. They meet in a tempest of April snow.“ So I just binge read this all in one go. Okay first. it has gorgeous art. Holy shit. Yes. There’s art. And second. This story. The world it built. The atmosphere. The emotions. That fucking beautiful ending. Oh my god. four chapters of just. perfection. Please. Just. Please. Read this. 

Waiting for the Rain by trashy_cas “In which Katsuki Yuuri meets a stranger who also enjoys frequenting empty parks on rainy mornings. Garden of Words AU“ Here’s another fic based on a movie I haven’t seen, and also won’t see because. eww. Creepy age gap. The creepy age gap is obviously not in this fic. I would not put it here if it was. No this fic is just a wonderful atmospheric experience. It really captures that rainy garden mood throughout and when it ends...it feels a little bit like the skies cleared up and the sun shines again. It’s just beautiful. 

Ongoing:

don't want to be lonely (just want to be yours) by Linisy “This time the flesh and blood Yuuri wasn't around to distract him, and he watched the video intently, hypnotized by the swing of Yuuri’s hips, the look in his eyes that burned with intensity and the strong, confident line of his shoulders. Yuuri was, as always, breathtaking. Victor remembered their first meeting well. Yuuri was the last member to join the group. He was soft spoken, and he stood as if he were trying to make himself smaller, shoulders drawn inward, head tilted toward the ground, glasses slipping off his nose. Victor was surprised to hear that he was the second oldest behind Victor himself. Everything changed the first time he saw him dance. - Vitya, Katsu, Yura, Beka and Chu make up the top idol group SVD. They've been through hell together, living in their tiny dorm and working toward the day they'd finally hit it big. That day has finally come, but sometime over the course of the past three years, Victor has fallen in love with Yuuri Katsuki.” Okay so this fic has just started, and it’s an idol AU, but don’t let that turn you away because it’s masterful. It covers like five different POVs and all of them are so distinct. You can really feel the character they switch to. It has so much potential. 

Lullaby of Birdland by Orchids_and_Fictional_Cities “In another world, their story might have started with ‘Hi there’, or ‘Lovely sky tonight’, or ‘Hello, stranger’. Or perhaps something less cliché, something like: ‘A commemorative photo? Sure thing! ’But in this one, it starts with an electric blue cocktail, the taste of smoke in the air. And: “You have really talented, um. Fingers.” --- Yuuri makes music with his body. Victor makes music because that's all he knows. (Or: After his poor performance at the Grand Prix Final, Yuuri is weary but not broken, and decides to give it one last shot. Victor plays piano three nights a week at a small jazz bar near the Detroit Skating Club, and does his best to get by.)” This fic has this one really clever plot point I can’t tell you because spoilers. But I think about it all the time. And you will too probably!! If you read it. I don’t even like jazz but this fic made me like jazz. Also. The feelings are real. The feelings are real and it’s got the atmosphere of a Jazz Club. Fitting considering. 

On Ice, Yuri!!! by octothorpe “Russia’s rising star, Victor Nikiforov, age twenty-three, has just finished his first Grand Prix Final and is gearing up for Serious Training for the next season. Russia’s rising star, Victor Nikiforov, age twenty-three, is currently standing naked in the Yu-Topia onsen, back arched, silver hair flowing, with one arm outstretched toward a very bewildered Yuuri Katsuki.“Yuuri! Hi!” OR The weirdly-canon-but-not-really Reverse AU.“ This is the only reverse AU that matters. Okay. Every other AU was weird in some way, but this one feels...accurate. To everyone. Also it doesn’t feel gross. So there’s that. Everyone feels true to themselves, and it’s “weirdly canon” like they said, so this fic really does feel like the most accurate version of this AU there could be. Everyone is so IC. It’s beautiful.

Rhapsody by FigureSgayts “He's been a star from the beginning. Both of his parents, Yakov, and all those around him, everybody who has seen him skate, knows it. Viktor, however, continues to see himself as nothing but a potential rising star. After all, he's only sixteen and is just making his senior debut. He can't be as good as everybody seems to be making him out to be, ignoring the small (large) collection of gold medals that he has. As such, all he wants to do is focus on improving and living up to the expectations thrown at him on and off the ice. However, only a few months before the start of his first senior Grand Prix series, a sharp blue smears itself right above his clavicle. Only in his dreams can it be bruise. The late appearance of a soulmark is enough to knock Viktor a little off balance mentally. This isn't to say that Viktor will reject his soulmate. In fact, he's willing to go above and beyond to do all he can for whoever they may be, but first, he's going to claw his way to the top. If everybody expects him to be a star, then so be it. He'll be the star that they want, and once he's at the top, nobody will be able to stop him from giving his all to whoever shares his mark. After all, he is Viktor Nikiforov.” It’s a soulmate AU. But it’s also a Viktor backstory fic. AKA it’s a fucking win win y’all. It has everything you could ever want probably. Warning though Viktor is kinda an oblivious dingus at times and you’ll want to just. argh. Viktor please. But listen it’s really good at super worth it okay. 

The Coin, The Stone & The Rose by Silver_Scribbles “Crown Prince Viktor Nikiforov once had the world at his fingertips; he was rich and powerful and handsome, and he had everything his heart desired. Now, he is a Beast, imprisoned by an Enchantress' spell; hiding away from the world in the never-ending winter of his shame. Katsuki Yuuri is . . . odd, to say the least. Beautiful, but odd. While the rest of the villagers put one foot firmly in front of the other, Yuuri would rather loose himself to his dancing and his daydreams; always wishing for something more than his provincial life. Each is captive to circumstances beyond their control; trapped by unbreakable spells and impossible dreams. However, an unlikely meeting is about to change everything. Hope makes a final play for their salvation as the sands of time run out; but as Yuuri and Viktor learn to find themselves in one another, they also make discoveries that they're completely unprepared for . . . some wondrous, some wretched . . . and some treacherous enough to permanently tear them apart. For who could ever learn to love a Beast?“ Fuckin I don’t like beauty and the beast as like. a movie. And everyone who’s tried this AU up until this fic was doing it wrong with all the bad things about the movie. But this fic!!!! It takes the basic premise (a prince turned into a beast that can only be saved by true love) and keeps everyone in character. No fucking uncontrollable rage outbursts from Viktor. Everyone is just how they should be, and there’s none of the fucking Bad tropes that were in the original movie. It’s basically what the movie should have been. Basically. 

This Conversation by RedTwice “Somewhere along his journey to share himself with the world, Yuuri finds himself travelling to Detroit to train with the world-renowned ice skating coach Celestino Cialdini. There’s just one small problem: Christophe Giacometti’s coach has retired earlier than anyone expected, leading the young skater to Celestino’s door as another full-time student. Yuuri slowly befriends Christophe as they train for the senior circuits together, and finds that this friendship is bringing out parts of himself he never expected to find, for better or worse. Or: Christophe joins Yuuri in Detroit from the beginning, and leads Yuuri down a six-year-long path of self-discovery.“ Do you want a fic where Chris and Yuuri are friends. Do you. Because. This is that fic. The viktuuri hasn’t happened yet but it will, but listen, if you also want that good friendship content. Read this. Read it. Just do it. Just. Read. 

Trade Your Heroes For Ghosts by Naamah_Beherit “Having endured what was probably the worst day of his life followed by a night he does not remember, Yuuri wakes up with a hangover of the century and a desperate plea for the world to forget about his existence. Alas, the world has other plans. So does a certain Russian skater.“ Okay so like. Here’s a great canon divergence AU where Yuuri finds out immediately about the banquet. ANd it’s just. wonderful. it’s just great. Listen. Listen okay secretly all of you have wanted this. I know. I understand. But listen. It’s here okay. You can read it. It’s super good. It makes you feel good inside. All kinds of feelings. Don’t you like feelings? no probably not BUT THEY’RE GOOD FEELINGS.

And finally, everything by komagayda. (Yes Noa. It’s your turn). Everything he write is IC, and while they’re all “weird AUs” don’t we all need weird AUs? Yes. Yes we do. The workings of the worlds he’s built are so fascinating and fun, and the super accurate characterization just brings everything to life. It’s beautiful. ALso. mlm fics written by an actual mlm???? it’s more likely than you think. I couldn’t pick one fic like I did for cityboys because I’d feel like a fucking liar. And I didn’t want this to also be even longer with every single fic. So we’re just gonna do this all at once kids. It’s great. Noa is a great author. 100000000000/10. Get on reading his shit. 

And there you go. Enjoy the good content. Your welcome. 

[unit7designmethodsgeorgesmith]

YCA Asset Creation:                   Queen Elizabeth Illustration + Cover Design

20.03.19

Today I started working on my illustration of Queen Elizabeth for this project. I wanted to have her on the front cover of a graphic novel that I would be designing. The background would have Big Ben, which you can see in the previous post below. 

Rough Linework 

So, to start with, I sketched out a rough drawing of the Queen in a drawing program called Clip Studio Paint. Out of Paint Tool Sai, Photoshop and this, I find this to be my favourite program to draw and paint in. For this rough sketch, I used a thin watercolour brush like I usually do. I used various different reference images from Google. I decided to draw her like how she looks most of the time. I think that the hat and the curly hair are kind of her defining parts. The hair was really challenging to get right—I’m not very good at drawing curly hair/hair in general. The hat looks pretty good too I think. I tried to get it to look like her as best I could, as far as this particular style will let me, and I think I kind of pulled it off, but I still need to improve on my faces in general. 

Polished Linework

After finishing the rough sketch of the Queen, I thought it time to go over the lines. To do this, I created a new layer, and then lowered the opacity of the sketch layer, so that I could go just make out what I was drawing over. I don’t really like how the lines turned out once I compare it to the original sketch work, because it kind of lost the sketchy and rough charm, but I thought that I could probably make up for that when it comes to painting it. In this screenshot, you can see her outfit now—it is her usual outfit that she appears in public wearing. I went with this one because it was simple, and I would prefer to keep the focus on her face if possible. Overall, I’m not a big fan of how it looks right now, but I’m confident that I can improve this soon. 

Colouring

The next thing to do after finishing the linework was to colour in the Queen’s main parts, so I’d decided that I wanted her outfit to be coloured red, since I was adhering to the colour palette of the Union Jack; red, white, and blue (the blue will be the sky, white for clouds). I chose a regular not-too-saturated but not-too- desaturated red shade for her clothing and her hat. For the moment, I want to have the rose thing on her hat red, but maybe it will look good if I am to make it white instead. I chose a middle shade of grey for the hair, because I would need highlights for it as well as, obviously, darker tones. A regular white skin tone and plain white for the eyes and mouth for now. The mouth is white at the moment as I plan to show teeth, but later on I change this. 

So, to colour this in, what I do is I create two layers—one where I will colour whatever I want, so the hat and torso for example. And how I colour is I use a pen to draw around the outside using the red, and then I just fill in the rest because it is much more easy and efficient than colouring in the hat, and then doing the outlines. Anyway, after I’ve coloured the parts, I use the second layer above the coloured one, and apply a clipping mask of sorts. This enables me to paint on this layer, only on the colour that I’ve filled in, an extremely useful feature. 

Painting Face I

Now it was time to paint the face that I’d coloured in with the skin tone. I added the necessary shades first, like with her face lines, which I’ve exaggerated in her favour, the shade under her nose and shadows being cast by her hair, look to the left and right of her face. Also, you may have noticed that I completely forgot to draw the eyebrows from the second screenshot onward, so i corrected that below. I painted in the inside of the ear using dark shades also. It was fun to paint underneath the head, where a shadow is being cast. The shadow being cast from her hat makes her look almost evil and scheming right now, I think it may be because the eyes aren’t painted yet. There must be a relatively harsh lighting right now with how dark I’ve made the shadows—probably midday sunlight or something. There are all sorts of shades among the shadows, underneath the hat are a mix of greys, oranges and also a bit of red and pink nearer the top, where the colours from the hat bounce off. The shadow below the head has multiple shades too, mainly the same as the shadow from the hat, except from reds. There is a slight pinkish shade on the left side of the of the shade, bouncing off of the clothing, and an orange shade just under the chin.

Painting Face II

Next I decided to work on the face some more to try and finish it. I started with the eyes. The eyes were under the hat’s shade, therefore, I needed to paint them accordingly. This meant that the main white in the eye would be a darker shade; grey. I painted her eyes a greyish blue, like her real eyes, and kept the shading quite minimal. After I finished the iris, I went over the outside using the blur tool to give it a soft look. Then I went back to the brush tool and did one white stroke on each of the eyes, and airbrushed a slight white over the middles of them. I think that it really adds to the painting and makes her eyes look less dead, which is something that often unintentionally happens when I’m drawing eyes. After finishing the eyes up, I moved to the mouth. After a bit of experimenting, I realised that making her grin was a bad idea, mainly because I just couldn’t get it to look right, but also because, once I drew her with her mouth open, presumably in joy, it looked a lot better.

I also tidied up the face shading, using the blend tool to blend parts that looked like they were too harsh and intruding. Next I continued on with the mouth area, and painted her red lips. Right now they don’t look very good, like they’re too thin or something, I fix this somewhat later on. I painted a small white dot on her lips to look like a highlight, which I think really goes far. Finally, I worked on the hair—easily my least favorite part of the illustration. For starters, even the sketches don’t look good to me, so adding depth to the hair via color wasn’t sounding too thrilling. But alas, I continued on, and painted them in a way that is acceptable, not great but I’m okay with it, so I continued with the shade from the hat, and painted a dark shadow coming from one edge of the hat to the other. It kind of dips, down and then up at the edges, which corresponds to how close the hair is to the sides of the hat. There aren’t many different shades among the hair, but I did decide to make it get lighter as it went down, no particular reason really, I just thought it would look nice and kind of a little less boring.

Painting Outfit I

Next I worked on her outfit, which wasn’t too difficult to come up with something I was pleased with. I looked at references of her wearing this kind of stiff outfit when I was sketching, and the reason I call it stiff is because there are minimal wrinkles on the outfit, not really any lines to introduce any shading to, and the lighting that I went with doesn’t really help me there either. Instead I used some of my usual tricks to add some kind of nice depth to something that is really flat otherwise. I painted a gradient from a desaturated purple-ish red from the bottom of the composition, to the red that I started with nearer the top. Although, this isn’t to say there’s no shading whatsoever, there is a nice shadow that continues on from the neck from the one that is being cast by the head. This shadow has a nice variety of shades in it, some greys, some purples and reds, and a slight desaturated orange as a bounce light from the skin tone that is very close by. There’s also some other shading as you can see in the illustration. Also a dark shade where the button is sewn through.

Painting Outfit II

I am nearing the end of the illustration, and next is to do the hat, which I thought would be difficult. Luckily so, I got kind of distracted by my linework—it was really messy still, therefore, I needed to clean it up, which took quite a while to be honest, though I think it was worth it. Essentially, I went over the hat lines with a thicker brush and then erased the thicker parts to correspond with the rest of the lines throughout the drawing. Now, it was a hat, not much I can think to shade really. I did the same gradient trick that I used with the outfit, and then also did a slight darker shade down the right hand side of the hat, to give it a slight beveled effect—make it look as though it was rounding off towards the edges, as a hat would do. I may still work on the hat some more later. I made the strip across the bottom of the hat a darker shade so that it didn’t look too boring. Now, for the white flower thing, I’m not sure what to call it, it was a challenge at first. I started by trying to make each of the points join together at the center where it would be darker, but as that looked terrible to me, I decided on a much more appealing way of painting it. As you can see, it looks quite soft and pastel-themed almost. I used a slightly large brush size to paint these blobs everywhere to create the effect of something that was puffed out. I’m really pleased with how it turned out, and I love the colours that I used in it. Again, looking at it now, the hat will probably need some more doing to it, but right now, I was roughly done with the painting.

Finished Queen Elizabeth Illustration with Cover

[screechthemighty]

justice in “rabbit in a snowstorm”

Told you this would be delayed. There will probably be a lot of assorted thoughts for this one, but fortunately I do have a central thought about how the case Matt works this episode ends up revealing a lot of his world view. Check out the ground rules if you haven’t already and let’s begin!

The Healey case starts with Matt, once again, jumping to the worst possible conclusion: that Wesley is up to something. Granted, Wesley is a snake in an Armani suit, but up until he calls out their hiring of Karen, he’s polite and calm. There’s nothing to suspect that he’s anything sketchy if you’re not Matt or an audience member. It could be that Matt automatically distrusts corporations—possibly a holdover from his days working at L&Z—and there is more canon proof to suggest that he’s inherently a bit distrustful of people with money (see 2.05 and the underlying thematic element of Elektra leading to Matt’s distaste for fancy things). But he seems to jump beyond even just “this guy is a skuzzy corporate dude” in his determination to figure out what Wesley’s game is. This could just be me reading into it because I know that there’s more to it than that; if that is the case, then that means it’s enough for Matt that Wesley is a skuzzy corporate dude doing something potentially even a little bit shady. For Matt, no crime is too big or too small. He’s going to stop it, no matter what. (This is also interesting in light of him asking Father Lantom if the fact that he can’t do anything about any crimes confessed to him “seems fair.” Matt is incapable of inaction if he knows something is wrong, and this is just another example of that urge in action.)

The next really noticeable detail about the case is the way Matt completely steamrollers over Foggy while trying to achieve his goals. This is something Matt does a lot with a lot of people, and I think there are two reasons for it. First, Matt is the kind of guy who gets hyperfocused on the desired outcome, to the point where he blinds himself to other obligations, other people’s input, and so on. It’s not a malice thing; he just doesn’t know how not to focus hardcore. I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it until it’s pointed out to him. (Side note, but his lack of subtlety when he does it is hysterical to me. Like, Matt, you’re supposed to be asking this guy about the murder, not about Wesley. You’re just cluing them in to the fact that you know something is up.)

Second, I think that Matt has an instinctive need to push his wants and opinions as hard as he can—again, not out of malice, but due to the influence of one PARTICULAR PERSON that we’ll get to in a few episodes. The tl;dr of it is that Matt has, in the past, had his thoughts and worldview steamrollerd over so repeatedly and viciously that I think it trained him to be just as aggressive back, least he be washed away by outside forces. And again, I don’t think he realizes he’s doing it. His sense of conflict resolution has been that fucked.

Matt talks a lot about the confines of the law in this episode. The first time it comes up is when he’s talking to Healey, and talks about how they’ll work out the case “honestly and morally and within the confines of the law.” This time it comes up, you could read it as him justifying what he’s doing to himself. Healey is their best inroad to figuring out what’s up with Wesley, so he has to play ball if he wants answers. But even though he’s mostly chill about it, this is the guy who said he only wants to represent the innocent. Representing someone that is so obviously guilty is killing him inside. Saying this is probably his way of justifying what he’s doing to himself—of telling himself that he’s worth it. The fact that he’s so visibly frustrated when Healey says he wants the trial as soon as possible could tie into that. Doing it Healey’s way makes being “honest” and “moral” a lot harder, so the justification starts wearing thin. It also gives Matt less time to investigate, which is insult to injury in something like this.

There’s a lot going on in his closing arguments. Besides it just being a good speech (honestly, I could listen to him give closing arguments for a whole episode, like, I wouldn’t even care), he reveals a thing or two about his headspace. First, there’s the mention of morality being what ties us to humanity. Given that he’s definitely not lying when he says he’s been dwelling on questions of morality lately (between him sitting outside church and him having to face Claire’s “I don’t think you enjoy this” moment), I think this is one of the moments he’s been dwelling on: the place rules have in society, and what happens when you stop following them. What he might become if he keeps going down this path. That’s really an overarching plot of this season: how far do you go? When does it stop being justifiable? Sorry to say, Matt, but you’re going to be questioning this a lot.

There’s also the fact that he stresses that facts are the only thing that matter in the courtroom, not morality. Is this what he told himself to justify taking the case? That because he wasn’t arguing against the known facts, he was sticking to the sanctity of the law and therefore not doing anything wrong? Or is this something he’s known for a long time? I could easily see this realization as being part of the reason why he put the mask on. It certainly meshes with the flashbacks to his time as a legal intern and the lead up to his first act as Daredevil.

On a final, unrelated to the trial note, I think this is the episode where Matt starts to exhibit signs of The Sadness Beard. It’s a thing in the first season (not so much the second, which is a bummer) where Matt’s beard waxes and wanes in thickness depending on the current events and his mood. It can be hard to spot, since Matt almost always sports a five o’clock shadow (on a production level, probably so they can clean shave him for the flashback scenes), but it’s there. I think this is the episode where it starts appearing, and it’d make sense. The signs of his self-doubt start poking up here, in small but important ways (see the assorted thoughts section). It’s also possible that he’s been too tired to shave since he fairly recently fractured a few ribs and then went on to fight 7-8 Russians. I’ll be tracking his beard growth as I watch (which is a sentence I didn’t think I’d ever type).

Assorted Thoughts:

It’s interesting that Matt sits outside of Church but never goes in, and becomes skittish when confronted about why he’s hear. I think he’s starting to want help—especially since he was faced with the question of whether or not he enjoys hurting people—but also that Matt is the sort of person who needs to ask for help on his own terms. He can’t really be nudged or coaxed into it. This relates back to the thing I talked about RE: Matt kind of steamrolling back Foggy in his quest for Justice, and again, we’ll get to that when we get to Stick.

“I wasn’t paying attention, it’s my fault.” While Matt is definitely deflecting the truth as to how he got a black eye, this only feels like a half-lie. I wonder if he does this a lot—not actually specify what happened, but say that he was “careless”, which he probably thinks he was to end up that beat up.

Just World On Fire Things: Matt’s little head twitches during the meeting with Wesley. I think this is him trying to adjust his reading on Wesley, and I love it. Also, the detail with Wesley’s watch breaks my heart because it’s reductionist in a big way. Matt wouldn’t just know it’s Wesley by the sound of his watch—he’d know by his cologne, his shampoo, the fabric of his suit, a thousand details that the viewer can’t experience. Without narration, we can’t even really know that’s how Matt perceives the world. I know that the show writers can only do so much when they’re presenting the perspective of a blind man to a sighted audience, but it bugs me because it leads to the idea that Matt can “basically see”—AKA the worst criticism of Daredevil ever and I’ll fight anyone who says it in my presence. Matt Murdock is Fucking Blind 2kForever.

More World on Fire things: the moment when Matt hears the one juror’s racing heartbeat. I find that bit interesting because it raises the question of whether Matt’s senses are so fine-tuned that he can pick up the one racing heartbeat in the room without having to hear it, or whether he was already checking out their heartbeats before he noticed. I’m inclined to think the latter, mostly because it makes sense for Matt and the way he perceives the world. Think about it: if Matt could see, he’d probably be glancing their way to check the mood of the jury after Foggy’s opening statement. He can’t check their faces, but he can check their heartbeats. It’s how he tells what’s going on with anything. This is a bit of a call forward, but I feel like Foggy criticizing Matt for listening to heartbeats because it’s invasive is a unfair, because it’s the only way Matt knows what people are feeling or if they’re screwing him over. In his line of work, he has to know these things. (Zero judgment towards Foggy for reacting that way, there was a lot going on, but we’ll get to that when we get to Nelson v. Murdock.)

Matt’s comment about the check Wesley gives them is interesting to me. He states that maybe Foggy would care about how sketch the situation feels if he couldn’t see the zeroes on the check, and I have to ask how much of Matt’s perception of the world differs from yours or mine because he can’t see. He doesn’t have the visual cues that a lot of us use and judge people on. Granted, Matt has other cues that he uses and judges people on, but do they lead him to draw different conclusions than the rest of us about a person? Or the same conclusion, but for different reasons?

Also, Matt really DOES lead with his face. There is not a point in the conversation with Wesley that he looks anything but distrustful. It’s interesting that he can cover up a lot of things with charm, but not his negative emotions.

The saga of Matt’s sunglasses continues in this episode: he has them off as he and Foggy research, but puts them on the second Karen comes to the door and doesn’t take them off again after that. Karen is still a new person in Matt’s life, for whatever tenuous connections they have aren’t enough for him to feel glasses-less around her. Foggy, meanwhile, has known Matt for a long time; he knows Foggy isn’t uncomfortable with his lack of sunglasses or anything like that. He’s comfortable around Foggy.

On a finale note, there’s Matt’s reaction to the guy stabbing himself in the face. On the one hand, it’s a totally justifiable reaction to a guy stabbing himself in the face with a spike. On the other hand, the way he freezes up brings to mind other moments in the show. It’s Matt’s reaction to any unexpected event. When something happens that he doesn’t see coming, he flounders and freezes, regardless of context. Again, in this case it’s how pretty much anyone would react, but it does also fit a wider pattern. I’ll look for more of this as time goes on.

[drennalynspast]

[ austin and bewilderedness ]

Friday, May. 02, 2008

[ austin and some good news ]

so around friday early evening we left to go to austin.  jacob and shagun were the ones who were driving.  ricky (jacob's cute queer roomate) also came along too. on the highway, there was a stupid semi that stopped in the middle of the road. the car in front of us was stopping and we had to quickly change lanes so we wouldn't slam our brakes.  >.>  we almost ran into the car next to us too..if the other car hadn't changed lanes.  ricky had a gps thing on his phone.  it helped us a lot in navigating.

we arrived in austin around 12 am lol.  we drove to find this street where there was a lot of stuff of eateries and shopping strip (that was close to the UT campus). then, we searched for a hotel to stay for the night.  of course we wanted a relatively cheap hotel.  around  $50-65.  we figured, 'let's go to a super 8 motel'.  we drove in the parking lot and there were cop cars all around with the lights flashing.  and we saw some sketchy black person outside  lolol.  we didn't get a good vibe.  "uhmm...let's go somewhere else. " "i agree"

we went somewhere called the 'rodeway inn".  we looked at the parking lot and there appeared to be nice cars around.  one of the guys walking in the rooms seemed well kept.  so we decided to try it there for one night to see how it goes.  the room was okay.  later on, we turned on the light and we saw this  EFFING HUUUGE cockroach that crawled up the wall.  it was soo disgusting. it was the largest cockroach i have ever seen. and you can see its antennas. ricky and i were freaking out.  

jacob and shagun were like..oh wow uhh.  we had to go to walgreens and get some supplies.  i forgot my toothbrush, retainers, and phone charger >.>  so i got a toothbrush.  we got a can of raid too to spray our room with also.  we found another dead cockroach near the toilet seat and one under the bed.  O_o..... we pretty much established that we are sleeping with the lights on.  (cockroaches supposedly dont' come out in light).  damn, i wanted to get duct tape and tape my mouth shut.  just in case one were to crawl on me *shivers*

luckily we survived that night. the next day, we packed our bags outta that hotel.  next, we went to go to that one street near the campus with the shops and food places.  we mostly looked through the stores.  we wanted to go eat sushi in downtown austin.   the jap restaurant  was closed during the afternoon.

after that, we drove to red rock.  a place close to austin.  it had a recently new outlet mall in there.at red rock, we were disappointed in the stores.  we didn't feel like browsing through a lot of stuff and the clothes were pretty shitty.  (since outlet malls sells the 'defective' items that were made in the factories for a cheaper price :/)  lol we were joking, hey there's a starbucks here.  "it's cheap because it's irregular". red rock outlets wasn't amusing after we tried it look through it.

after outlet shopping, we went to find another hotel.  the night at rodeway, we were on our laptops researching where to find the next better hotel and getting directions.  we decided to go to holiday inn.  it was more expensive..like 30+ more.  but we wanted something better to compensate for our bad night at rodeway.  cockroach free. it was okay.  been a while since i stayed at hotels.  it felt weird being in one.  somehow, i just don't care about semen on sheets anymore lol . i just don't want cockroaches and bedbugs. >.<  if i get pregnant soon, you'll know why x_x. 

we chilled at the hotel for a while and headed out to go look to eat dinner somewhere.  we went back to that same street near campus and ate at a vegan place.  it was pretty good.  i ate some of ricky's sushi that he ordered lolol.  after that, we stopped by this one store where jacob's UT friend helped prepare the opening for.  this guy is like in PR or whatever.  we all said hi to the guy and left.  after that, we walked around the UT austin campus at night. 

zomg, the ut campus was soo big and pretty.  everyone [jacob etc] felt so ashamed for being at ou.  >.>  man, imagine how i freaking feel. c'mon, i go to swosu. :/  they had a lot of stuff. like a bowling alley and pool tables etc in the lower student union.  zomg -this computer lounge area was so awesome.  hmm some random culture rooms above the union.  nice architecture structures all around.  ut campus is obviously right in the center of the austin capitol city.  along that shopping/dining strip, you see a lot of diverse kind of people. some of the people were way too happy riding bikes.  and you see random hippies on the street.  (lol at the weird shirtless guy on the street O_o).  people actually had some style going on in their fashion too.  we took some pictures of us around campus and stuff - running around at night heh.

after the campus browsing (which wasn't much, soo huge and so little time.  i wanted to see the dorms, but it was farther >.>)/ , we went to starbucks and chillaxed.  then, we headed back towards the hilton...i mean, holiday inn.  we went to bed pretty early lol 10:30-11:00 pm ish.  and we woke up around 10-10:30 am.  we were dead tired.</p><p>on the drive back, we still slept. there was nothing else to do.  we ate lunch at luby's cafeteria.  there wasn't a lot of luby's in oklahoma, and ricky missed eating there as a child.  we went there.  there was a lot of old people there..and kids... but the food was good (expensive too :/).  we were so full though.  i couldn't finish my cheesecake arhghhg.

yepyep------------------------------------

[monday]  so after classes, as usual, i was browsing on my computer.  my roomate comes in the room and says the college of pharmacy sent me a letter.  i was thinking, 'omg...so soon!?" x_x.  i wasn't sure what i was feeling at that time.  i knew that if i got rejected, i wouldn't be disappointed.  it was as if i was preparing myself to be rejected somehow.  i opened the letter and stared at it.  i kept reading it over and over again.

>lolwut?  “Dear Ms. XXXX:I am happy to inform you of your conditional acceptance to the College of Pharmacy for the Fall semester 2008"

at that moment, i was flabergasted, bewildered, weirded, and elated.  seriously, omfg, i got accepted.  deep down inside i felt lucky.  obviously i have this inferiority complex where i was skeptical of my acceptance - i don't have an amazing gpa ...hell..even my pcat score is non remarkable.  i was surprised how other people i knew weren't called for an interview etc.  

i feel like people could hate me if they knew of my academic status. but...fuck damnit. screw it all - whatever this inferiority complex i have.  somehow, the admissions committee saw something in me that stood out.  maybe it was autobiographical sketch? maybe it was my interview (which i actually felt pretty confident i did well in)?  maybe it was something in my persona/character that stood out despite my academic blemishes. maybe god is watching me and telling me not to give up?

nonetheless, i feel like i have a reason to believe in myself more. i think i should be more motivated now. i still need to do well in organic 2 during the summer to actually be formally accepted in pharm school.  damnit, i can't screw up this time.  i really want to try hard not to fuck this opportunity. ashdjahfds i really hope i can survive organic 2.  i'm so scared. T_T i just need to make a 'c'.  in pharmacy school, i believe my gpa will be a clean slate. so, there is time to redeem myself. i have to prove to others that i am academically capable and deserving of my admittance - also, i need to improve my character as well -_-.

-----------------------------------

[ random disappointment(s)?] - for some odd reason, i was feeling sad on thursday.  it was quite a trivial thing.  i think the reason was just a dumb one. i happened to finish some random pieces of art i was working on, and i posted the works online.  i was hoping to receive some feedback and recognition on them.  though, i didn't really get much response. >.>

why am i not getting any comments damnit? maybe because my art sucks/they don't like it, i'm not popular, people don't know what to say (or they are lazy to say anything), or they hate me?

after brooding, a nap, and working out, i don't feel [too] sad anymore about it (at the moment anyway:|)   ohwait. still kind of irked.  i just hate it when i put hard work into these art things and receive no feedback from them.  it pisses me off rather. i'm not talking about wanting appraisal..but just critique comments that help me improve and shit.  i actually don't complain about it publicly in my art galleries. i don't want to cause a scene. though, i'll rant/vent about my frustration here. XD

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[ehhh sure] - i bumped into an 'acquaintance friend' the other day.  he asked me how i was doing. he asked for my number, and wondered if we could hang out sometime.  i was kind of reluctant to really hang out with this person.  but i gave my number and agreed to hang out later on sometime.  

he called me to confirm the time and stuff and he asked me what things i like to do/what i do in my freetime. me: uh...browse online...workout...  o_o?.....him: i can see that you have a lot of friends. me:...>.> yeah i know i don't have much of a life.

seriously, i don't think i have much of a life.  i don't watch a lot of movies.  i don't play sports.  err...i like to do art and stuff... but who the hell does that kind of hobby?  not a lot of people....sometimes i hate ruining people's expectations of me.  like..somehow people usually seem to be fascinated with exterior sides of people and not no a clue of who the person is really like.  i admit, i can be that kind of judgmental person too.

anyways, i feel like it is going to be awkward hanging out with this guy. i can anticipate myself holding back in how i express myself >.>. ughhg seriously, why am i picky when it comes to hanging out with people? sooo laem.

[damostaranth-arts]

Day something-or-other damn I’m bad at this.

So, this is in fact the work of several days as I continue to try to work on my muzzles. I went a long time after my last post and more or less forgot what I was doing, so basically started trying to learn again from scratch. Woo!

The top image was a bunch of sketching I was doing trying to get the idea of a 3/4 muzzle down again, using the ever amazing work from twokinds - specifically this image - https://twokinds.deviantart.com/art/Pose-Reversal-692533445

The top left one was pretty good but it was also almost directly sketched over the original image so I can’t claim too much of it. As I started trying to work on my own images, issues quickly became clear - primarily, as seen in the lower middle, that my eyes needed to have the right amount of tilt compared to the muzzle if I don’t want it to look derpy as hell.

However, I soon figured one of the major issues was that I was attempting to draw waaaay too small - which can be seen in the next image, I tried to scale up significantly.

The two images on the right here were my next attempt - and the problem here is pretty clear, that nose is waaaaaaay too damn long. The upper image could be a kangaroo or something I dunno? But it looks more canine on the bottom. The nose needs some major work, and it’s a bit bland, but it was definitely progress over the previous images.

The cat in the lower left is actually the most recent image, and a bit of a point of irritation. I went through about six iterations to get to that point - the original image had a much flatter muzzle and the head was... well, parts of it were closer to 3/4, rather than the almost-profile I was going for here - I was really happy with the progression and would have shown it, but Clip Studio crashed on me about two minutes after I screenshotted the image shown here to post to some friends, and I lost all of it.

Save your work early and often, folks. At least I kept this much!  I think the muzzle is still a fraction too flat and the ear fluff needs some work, but progress is.

Finally, we have the progression I DID manage to save, and that I am most happy with. I decided I loved this character on the very first image, and within an hour or so she had a name and the beginnings of a personality and backstory, so meet Evelynn - I’ll probably be trying to draw her more often.

1. The original sketch. Obviously a lot of elements of this got scrapped pretty quickly. The nose is clearly too small, the muzzle a bit too thin (and TOO pointed) and the ears too large. Again, looks more like a deer than my intent here. The eye shape was entirely placeholder here.

2. Attempting to refine it a bit. Shorter muzzle, larger nose, a bit more shape to the eyes, and the idea of a differently-coloured muzzle. Definite progress but still very sketchy - this was basically a quick fix before moving on to...

3. Trying for a cleaner sketch here. Definitely going for a very feminine look on those eyes, and cleaned up the linework some; Most folks I showed this image to, when prompted to guess the species, guessed big cat of some sort - Jaguar or lioness. Not quite what I was going for. The main issues here were the ears, the neck was too thin, and she needs some floof. So, those produced...

4. Okay so the neck and ears look a lot better on this one buuuuut I might have gone just the slightest bit overboard on the fur. Lost a bit of her charm here, too much hair. On the other hand, it’s at least pretty difficult to not guess bear at this point :) So, let’s clean her up a bit. *pulls out the electric razor*

5. I wasn’t sure whether I actually wanted to go with proper hair hair, or just a fluff, but either way, these spikes weren’t quite right for the job. Cleaning up the lower facial fur and emphasising those tertiary sexual characteristics. (those eyelashes woo) 

6. Almost identical to the previous, with the only major differences being the hair and the addition of a little eyeshadow. Better! But still not perfect.

I’ve gotta work a bit more on deciding what I want to do with her hair, but I’m still pretty happy with how she came out. Someday I might even decide what colour I want to make her. :)

That! Was a lot of words. Hopefully will have some more images soon.. though I won’t deign to suggest I have any idea what of.

[survivor-marianas-trench]

“I made a new friend, his name is Bruce.” - Episode 7

Dear Chrissa, How are you fake?! Girl, I love you, but in games, I can't do it. Every damn time we try and play together, I want to give you a chance, but time and time again you prove to me why the hell I vote you out every damn time. You're a snake who can't lie. http://prntscr.com/emhlwg Signed Rhea 

So yesterday, I go up to Chrissa, and like mention to her how I'm worried that I am the one who is going because people aren't talking to me (I lied). And she replies with "Oh, I heard Seamus." Now, take into account Dan came to me to tell me that Chrissa was debating between me and Seamus to vote out. So girl LIED to me! https://media0.giphy.com/media/eTvXVpu8AWlC8/200.webp#36 Like if you're going to lie, make sure you have your damn base covered. I know you were the other vote to get rid of me. GIRL BYE!

I'm sorry but how did everyone finish those puzzles so quickly I feel.....dumb. I wasn't even trying to throw it. Anyway, I guess it's good to be a flop since it took me to the deep but I'm still.....shook.  At this point I feel like Kelsey is the obvious target but I'm hoping we can take out Liana so if Kait takes away her immunity it'll be beautiful. Kelsey is sketchy but I'll take a sketch over someone who doesn't talk to me any day.

Whew ok so guess who's not totally made up of bad luck!? Me apparently! I made a new friend, his name is Bruce. He's such a pal going off to the other tribe like I asked. Much nicer than Matilda if I do say so myself! Anyway, the plan looks like we're getting rid of Kelsey and I love Kelsey to death but I know the other target is Jenn so its like....I have one person who could self vote out of the game and another who will possibly go with whatever I say.....so, yeah. Plus this is the smarter decision because we've literally just been forcing the non-tasi members to vote each other out and if we continue to do that, we're in for a rude awakening when merge comes along. Plus I love Amanda, Luke and Jenn so losing them this early is no bueno. I'm also a little bit worried about what Billy could've got in the deep cause apparently he played a multitask game which is...the exact same game I played. And he supposedly went to 27 when I went to 22 so I don't have a good feeling about him. Hopefully it doesn't merge after this cause I don't have any good connections with anyone on Tasi except for Kait and Dan so I'm worried to say the least. But as long as me and Jenn are safe here for now, I'm good.

...GIRL. Call it Dre hun. "THE B*TCH HAS FALLEN." SOOOO much has happened in the past...and I'm boiled. So I got votes at the last tribal. Funny. These people are frickin. RUDE. First of all. FIRST of all, these people say I don't talk to them? Ohhhhh my gosh. OOHHHHHH my gosh, NO. NO. I have talked to EVERYONE about their POINTLESS lives and the fact that THAT is what I'm being called? Girl, I have done NOTHING shady and the fact that THAT'S what's being called around? The only thing I can think of is that my association with Liana is the reason why I could be seen as shady. Liana has wanted this Tasi thing but has equipped ME to do all the gathering for it. At this point, I reaaaallly doubt it's because she "trusts" me. She better be careful though. The more I think about my situation, the more I feel like exposing her behind. I KNOW that I'm not the only who doesn't trust her and if Finite is split into two sides, I'd rather be in the middle of two than barely hanging on to one. I'm not here to tip toe around the bush until I'm burned from it, I'm here to be the one who sets it on fire. I was hiding behind this "nice person" front for so longing, I was totally and consciously rejecting the use of strategy. Well, honey. We saw where that got me. I'm all in. I've GOT to take this competition seriously and play harder, being nice is no longer an option. Friendship is OVER, darling. I'm not joking, B*TCH. My goal this week is to not only STAY, but to get the spotlight off of me and on to other people. Literally, when I survived the tribal, I got more people from TASI they're happy to see I'm still here. If I make the merge, I'm good! I just need to secure my spot in this competition, I've got to hustle before I can become comfortable again. I want to be here. I DESERVE to be here, I still feel like I've got people depending on me. And HENNY. I ain't finna feel like leaving! I'm trying my best to be proactive, I'm trying my best to just...to slay faves!!! It'll be awful if people who want this twice as bad as me make it twice as far. My only solution is to be aggressive. Call me Jojo, I'm going to screw apologies and only say sorry if I mean it. When I tell you I'm looking to hit that top? Now you know. I am. NEIN ZEDD. I came to slash throats, save my family and wear ugg boots! This time, I'll ACTUALLY do it~! Wish me luck~! Sincerely, Canada's Self-Proclaimed Favourite, Kelsey Mikaelson!

Well I voted Kelsey. I feel as though this may be the biggest mistake I will make. But I'm doing what people want and I hope it works out. 

So I think/hope that Kelsey is going home tonight. He's really nice but he's kind of a loose cannon and has no clue what's going on in this tribe. He asked Lily and Liana to start an OG Tasi tribe alliance but didn't know that me or Christine should be part of it? Plus on the old tribe 90% of the time when we had a vote decided Kelsey would tell that person about it. It didn't really change the vote much but it was still frustrating and if he keeps doing it now that more and more people go to the deep it could be even worse. He could end up telling someone and they could have an idol or some other kind of power. That's just risky. Plus Lily clearly wants to keep him because he's just a vote for her. I really hope that these confessionals are like every other PI game I've been in and don't actually end up getting released but if they do I wanna preface this by saying, Lily I absolutely adore you and I think you're the sweetest, kindest, more awesome girl ever! But with that being said, I hate the way she runs around the tribe telling everyone how to vote and what to do. I don't even think she realizes she's doing it but she insisted that Sara go instead of Kelsey with the promise that Kelsey goes home next. So we all complied even though Liana and I wanted Kelsey gone and she kind of wouldn't really listen. So now that this vote came she really wanted Jenn to go and everyone is too afraid to tell her no. So Luke and I talked and decided we're making sure that Kelsey is still going with or without Lily's approval. Lily said that everyone, including Christine was okay with Jenn going but as soon as I talked to Christine she was like 'no I really don't want vote out Jenn' so we talk and agree that if we just vote Kelsey we'll be in the majority and Kelsey will go home. I had to let Liana and Lily know obviously but I just hope that they were okay with it because it's happening no matter what. Plus we don't want to look like a really tight group. We're going to come off really bad come a swap or merge if all 6 of us are still there when everyone else has lost people. Especially if we keep forcing Luke and Amanda to vote out people that they don't want to vote out.  Anyways yeah, I love Lily to death but whew she's so lucky that Luke and I promised Drew we would keep an eye on her otherwise I probably would have began planting seeds and trying to get something against her. I wonder if that's part of the reason I don't want Jenn to go? It would be smart to get rid of her but by voting out Kelsey I'm rebelling against the main powerhouse and taking away some power from Lily. So anyways, maybe I'm being messy maybe I'm being petty because I want all of the power or maybe this is actually the right decision. I don't know, we'll see what happens.