#oh and also the eye placement- its not that noticeable in the sketch but when painting- boom binocular vision gone

[kachimera]

Have a (failed) artblock escape attempt, ft. The one and only "I don't wanna be Dracula anymore" guy

[four-loose-screws]

FE8 Novelization Translation - Chapter 13, Section 1

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations

If you are interested in donating to support my work, please check out my Ko-fi here. Thank you!

———————————

I call this a “section” because it is not a separate part of the chapter in the book, but divided from the rest of the chapter by a scene break.

———————————

Chapter 13: The Desert Palace

Jehanna was known as the Country of White Dunes. Just as that name implied, the capital city was chosen to be built upon a tiny patch of green land in the middle of a giant desert.

The rainy season was very short, and the air was dry almost the entire year round. Skeletons of animals that had collapsed from exhaustion dotted the desert. However, despite being suffocated by such harsh nature, Jehanna was also beautiful.

The country was ruled by Queen Ismaire. Her husband had passed long ago, and after overcoming countless hardships, she’d come to be a fine ruler for the country. The palace towered majestically over the white desert, and was a symbol of how the queen lived her life.

Eirika’s army traveled along the narrow main road built throughout the desert and towards the capital city. The palace looked so very far away.

What was going on inside that beautiful palace now? Just thinking about it lowered their spirits. Eirika was lost in thought as she swayed gently atop her horse, but noticed a small flower that had bloomed on the side of the road, and stopped.

When she jumped off her horse and went to pick the flower, she smelled a refreshing aroma. 

Tana saw what she was doing, and peered over at her. “It’s so cute! Wow, flowers can even bloom in a dry climate like this!”

“This is a medicinal plant. I forgot its name, but… it’s supposed to be very effective at relieving the pain of wounds. It only grows in dry climates, so it is a valuable plant.”

“Wow… you really know a lot about it! I'm surprised that you know something like that!"

Eirika smiled and stared down at the beautiful flower in her hand.

The person who had taught her all about it was Lyon. He had his very own medicinal plant garden in a corner of Grado Castle’s garden, where he grew a wide variety of plants. He’d even worked very hard to recreate a desert environment and tried to raise plants that only grew in that climate.

Ephraim showed no interest in medicinal plants, and did not come near them, but Eirika often visited the garden with Lyon. Even Lyon, who’d been shy at first, opened up and answered all of Eirika’s various questions on the subject, telling her all the plants’ names, effects, and how to care for them.

“Those without money cannot buy expensive medicine, right? But there are plants everywhere that can become effective medicines. I’m studying medicinal plants, and want to teach the people about them, because it should make life much easier for those suffering from illnesses…”

Eirika was impressed by all the things Lyon passionately shared with her. She still had much to learn about the world at the time, and hadn’t thought yet about the lives of the people.

“You’re so admirable, Lyon! You think as hard as you can to find a way to make everyone happy, don’t you?”

“Oh, I’m not admirable at all… This is the only sort of thing I can do… I’m terrible at sword fighting. I lose even to you.”

When Lyon said that, he seemed embarrassed, so much so that when Eirika looked at him, she felt sorry for him. She couldn’t keep herself from frowning.

‘Why can’t he realize what his own amazing strengths are? It doesn’t matter if he’s bad at sword fighting, because he posesses kindness and intelligence that is unlike anyone else’s.’

This was the same Lyon that had led the Grado Army and conquered Jehanna. Eirika still couldn’t believe it. 

Of course, a commanding officer didn’t need to be an exceptional soldier. It was also conceivable that Lyon was just being used as decoration, and someone else was really leading the army. However, Eirika was still not convinced.

“I’ve heard that Prince Lyon has a gentle personality, and loathes fighting.” Innes whispered, as if he could read Eirika’s wavering heart. He had come up beside her at some point, and was now walking alongside her horse.

“Seems like it was all an act. Perhaps he deceived you and Ephraim to get you two to let your guards down.”

“...That’s...” Eirika wanted to disagree, but she couldn’t find any strength to put into her voice.

Innes had never actually met Lyon, so he was suspicious of him. Eirika could assert that the many different ways he'd shown kindness could not have been false, but it would only be her insisting that her memories were the truth with no proof at all against the fact that they knew for certain that he had conquered Jehanna. 

“I’ve heard that he can use dark magic. Do you know how skilled he is in it, Eirika?”

“...Yes. The bishop that taught him always praised him highly because of his intelligence and passion for studying. He seemed to read difficult books a lot.”

"Then he is very dangerous.” Innes furrowed his brow.

Though he may know dark magic, Lyon never studied it with bad intentions. Darkness was important for bringing peace to people’s hearts. Lyon’s passion for learning magic was always for the sake of others.

L’Arachel was listening to their conversation, and added, “We have no reason to fear the power of darkness, for we have received the gods’ blessing! We shall retake the palace in one fell swoop!”

“No, we do not know if the queen is safe yet. She’s been taken as a hostage, so we must tread carefully.” Innes said.

“You’re right…” All of the energy drained from within L’Arachel, and she sighed deeply.

ー

Eirika’s army set up camp outside the city and decided to finalize their strategy.

There were hardly any people in the capital, and it had become very quiet. At first, Jehanna Palace looked like a beautiful mirage, but from this closer distance, they could see that it was guarded by a sturdy wall. Now that it had fallen into the hands of the enemy, the strength of that wall had backfired.

“The only way to minimize the damage we cause as we attack the palace is to swiftly tear down the front gate. The armored knights should rush in with the cavalry, then the infantry should follow in right after them. Still, we must prepare to damage the palace if need be…” Seth’s expression was dark. 

Innes asked, “Were we able to acquire any knowledge about the palace’s inner structure?”

“No. It is very complex, and we do not know the details of it.”

“That’s not good. We have no idea what kind of traps the enemy has laid out...”

“Rather than tear down the front gate, we should go around the side.”

Eirika and the others all looked up towards the source of the voice that had suddenly cut in from the side.

Those attending the meeting should have been only the army’s leaders. However, at some point, Joshua had entered the tent.

Innes huffed and ordered, “We’re in the middle of an important meeting right now. Please leave.”

“You want to know the inner structure of the palace, right? I’ll tell you.”

“What? Why would you know…?”

“Please wait, Innes!” Eirika stopped him.

Joshua had many years of experience as a mercenary. He might have had an opportunity to obtain a map of the palace at some point. It was unfortunate, but they didn’t have time to question him about it. If they did not hurry, then the queen would be in trouble.

“Please tell us everything you know, Joshua. Are there any other methods of getting inside the palace besides breaking down the front gate?”

“The layout of the palace is very complex. The front gate is not the only way inside. There is also a small passageway that merchants use to get in and out. It is likely that the enemy has not realized it is there.”

“...Can you lead us to it?”

“Yes.” Joshua nodded lightly. 

Innes narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

But Eirika decided to trust him. She had been suspicious of his true motives once in the past, but up until now, he had always fought as another member of her army with all his strength. She did not want to question that sincerity any longer.

Joshua pulled out a piece of paper that had a quick sketch of the palace drawn on it. Though the drawing only consisted of simple lines, it was surprisingly detailed. It had everything they would need written on it, from the placement of the hallways and rooms, to where the stairs and even pillars were. 

“The throne room is inside here. Prince Lyon is most likely leading the army from in there. And in the basement, there is an altar. If they are keeping the queen confined, then it is likely that they are using this room down there to do so.” Joshua pointed at the map and explained. 

Seth and Innes stared at the map with very serious looks on their faces.

“We’ll designate a large enough force to rush the gate and feint an attack on it. They will be a diversion and draw in the enemy, and should attack and retreat repeatedly so that no one is injured. Using that gap in the enemy’s defenses, a small elite force will attack from the merchant’s entrance on the east side. The enemy's guard there will probably be light, so we should be able to attack and defeat them in one swoop. After we establish that area as a base, we will head for the throne room.”

“...Alright.” Innes seemed to agree with that strategy. He raised his head up with confidence and looked at Joshua. “I shall lead the diversion team. At the very least, we will make a scene, and keep them in one area. Eirika, I want you to lead the elite force. Joshua, you will of course guide Eirika down the merchant’s entrance.”

Eirika nodded and looked at Joshua.

He had the same thin smile on his face as always, but his expression looked a bit more stiff than usual.

It wasn’t just a strange feeling. Something about the way Joshua was acting was undoubtedly strange. A dark color shaded his eyes. He seemed to have noticed that Eirika was staring at him, as he quickly turned his head away, and rushed out of the tent.

[yenrz1314]

Yo yenrz, I love your work and I was curious if you could show like a step by step process for what you do?

 I really need to stop answering asks so quickly I have a LIFe tO LivE

So here’s a step by step blog about how I draw stuffs 

Keep in mind that the end piece is still a WIP however. I’ll post it in full later.

Also if you’re asking about how I construct my text blogs I’m sorry I misconstrued the meaning of your message

So let’s start with what kind of brush I use:

I use the default pen brush on a little program called Krita. It’s free if you want to try it out. 

Here’s said brush in action:

I always start with a rather huge brush size, since It’s easier to make larger, longer, broader strokes. Also that way I don’t have to constantly change my brush strokes to erase large areas (which happens a lot when you sketch) The main detractor for this method is that you get really messy sketches however >.>

And like most pansies, I don’t go full on black. We artists have too much anxiety to deal with that.

TIME TO DRA-

wait I forgot to put on some music

K, so I’m going to be drawing our boy Roxas today because I made a screenshot for the previous text blog I did and I thought he looked really freaking fine in that shot. So I wanted to make a quick body study with facial expressions giving that same kind of edgy mood.

So I first start out with a circle, mapping out the direction that circle is pointing towards.

An important thing to keep in mind when drawing ANYTHING, especially if you’re a beginner, always remember to map out where the parts of your face are going to be. That way you don’t get trapped in a rabbit hole getting sucked into drawing your perfect eyes/nose/whatever facial feature and then realize when you zoom out that it looks like your person underwent a botched plastic surgery.

Rules of thumb to keep in mind about faces:

Eyes are at the midway point of your head

Distance between eyes should be about an eye wide

Ears are around the same level of your eyes

CHEEKBONES EXIST and Jawlines are square

So moving on, I go on and start sketching out the pose. Keep in mind that during the process, I usually don’t really know what I’m going for, so I test out different angles and positions and etc. 

So while I settle in, I finish deciding how I want the shoulders to look. 

But-

I notice something looks…off. 

If you’re a beginner, it can be hard to tell when something is wrong with your drawing. Or even worse, you’re an early intermediate and you know something’s wrong but you have no idea how to fix it. And then you start going down a very, very deep rabbit hole trying to fix it and no matter how you fiddle with it…it never quite looks right. Yes I know the struggle.

So here’s the solution:

Break down the figure into simple forms. The key to making this work is that you must have ample knowledge of proportions of body parts respective to one another. 

So here are rules of thumb for drawing most bodies (teenage or older and your figure isn’t larger or shorter than average)

 Each half of the arm is about the length of a single head

The arm should reach to the halfway point between the hip bone and the knee

The torso(from the base of the neck to the pubic bone) is about two heads

Each half of the leg is about the length of the torso starting from the hipbone(not the end of the torso)

Boobs don’t jut out the sides unless you’re drawing really big boobs

Also, in this case, i’m utilizing a bit of foreshortening because the shoulders are in perspective, as in they’re facing away from the viewer a little.

So now it’s time to add the arms and hands. And like any other body part, I break it down to basic forms first (when you become an uber drawing deity, something I’m clearly not, you’ll be used to this and can skip over this step )

Hands are one of the things you see beginner (and even advanced) artists cry about for days. For good reason. 

So the basic forms are like this:

Draw out your fingers as lines first. Also reminder that fingers are three segments long. Not two, which was evil propaganda that I was fed when I only drew anime.

Also and size should be about the length from the chin to a little above the eyebrows

Also I forgot to mention…

ALWAYS CHECK YOUR PROPORTIONS THROUGHOUT DRAWING. ALWAYS. 

And once I decided on the placement, I start mapping out the actual shapes.

Also I wanted Roxas to look more manly and such so I looked a reference image to make his jawline/cheekbones more manly so yeah

So now that I’ve decided on the overall pose, I start on the details.

Also another rule to draw by that I’ll shove down your throat

DETAILS SHOULD BE YOUR LOWEST PRIORITY WHEN STARTING OUT. Start simple and get the whole form first, then start adding details. This ups your productivity and prevents you from getting lost in rabbit holes

It’s called rendering for a reason. 

So I start adding the eyes and such and I’m overall satisfied with the face. And now I get started on the hair on a new layer. I don’t want the face lines to interrupt with drawing the hair, so I lower the opacity of the face layer. 

I check how it looks by zooming out to see if everything looks alright. Oh noes he looks a bit too manly

Shrink that seme crap

Much better I know I didn’t follow the meme format shoot me

K now time for the fun part: the hair.

….

I just want to give a moment of silence for all of the times people have suffered from drawing Roxas’s hair.

….

because by golly his hair is the one I see beginners dun goof up the most out of all kh characters.

K moving on, the keyword for Rucksack’s hair is WINDSWEPT. And funny enough, there’s actual logic to how his hair works. Everyone’s hair has a center line/point where said hair flows from, whether it be a part in the hair or a eye of a hurricane thing because I don’t know what the name for that is. 

Roxas’s is the latter. Demonstrated below:

See what I mean? It’s like an upside down wave going like whooooosh

Come to think of it, all hair should follow this rule. It should either be flowy or whooshy

Unless you’re Tetsuya Nomura, then you get to break all the rules

like seriously what the fu-

So now that’s done, I go and check for the gazillionth time, mirroring the image to see what I screwed up this time.

Oh noes something’s wrong with that shoulde-

Also I forgot here’s how I draw ears

-r it looks off.

That super spidey sense of knowing something’s wrong with your drawing is there for a reason. Heed its call. 

Also if you think there’s nothing wrong with that neck, draw naked people for a couple of months and you’ll see why.

So when something’s wrong you do the usual. Break it down to simple fo-

Or just use a reference.

Looks acceptable now. Time to start the lineart.

Out of personal preference, I like to lower the opacity to

Even as I do the lineart, nothing is set in stone. The sketch, at times, isn’t enough to go off of. So in that case, let’s go back to the reference.

Also I hit a roadblock when drawing the hand so move it out in the open so I can get a clearer look at it.

Also I use my own hand as reference a lot so I accidentally make make my manly men have delicate pansy hands.

This hand pose isn’t natural at all but I’m okay enough at this that I’m able to make it look okay

Study hands kids. They’ll do you good.

….

I forgot to draw him clothes daMMIT

Whatever i’ll just slap some cel-shade lighting on it and call it a day. This is still a WIP so expect a not-naked-Roxas later this week

Thank you for reading! Here’s a link to my twitter, And if you would be so kind, please consider supporting my patreon.

[lillotte17]

You're really good at doing faces and figures and your 'modern elves' have such great clothes! Any tips would be awesome but no preassure!

Oh wow, thanks! Ummm, that’s… a lot of ground to cover. Let’s start with the first one: Faces.

1) Draw yourself a circle and put it on a stick! A head is more or less a lollipop. The neck should always go up into the jaw. About a third of the way from the top, add a horizontal line to represent the brow ridge/ eye line. Add a vertical line to give yourself a rough idea of which direction the face is turned. The nose is usually about 2/3 of the way down the face, and the mouth sits a little less than half way between the nose and the chin. A good ruler for ear size/placement: the top of the ear should be at the same height as the corner of the eyes. And the bottom should be the same height as the end of the nose.

2)  Now you have a bowling ball-goblin! Time to start defining some features. As with all figure drawing, it is important to remember that there are bones and muscles under the skin that give the body its shape, just as the figure beneath clothing effects how the fabric stretches and bunches. If you have a hard time making faces look like there might be a skull under there….SKETCH IN THE SKULL! You don’t have to go all out, but eye sockets and cheekbones are a big help. I personally like to sketch in the rough shape of the cheek muscles, the shape of the chin, and the nose. This helps me remember that those shapes are not flat, and they should not be treated as if they are. 

3) When I get to more serious features, I like to change the color I am sketching with just so my new lines don’t get lost in the rough sketch. This is about the point where I start contemplating things like hairlines and some of the real detail work. It’s often a bunch of little things that are easy to do that give a piece personality. The shape of eyebrows, the direction of their gaze, dimples, etc. 

4) HAIR! If you are drawing with digital media and you do a lot of line work in your art, I CANNOT ENCOURAGE YOU ENOUGH TO DRAW THE HAIR ON A SEPARATE LAYER. You will thank me later. My general experience with drawing hair is to kind of let it do it’s own thing, at least for the base sketch. Just letting your hand be loose can make some really nice, natural looking shapes. And even if they look a bit sloppy, its okay, your going to come back and clean it up later.

5) Final touches! It is good to take a step back from any project before declaring it “done”. And it is also good to be aware of the mistakes you generally tend to make. (I, for instance, have a habit of making the nose and mouth a little too far down the face than they should be) It is never to late to fix things! Don’t be afraid to get back in there and twiddle with it until you’re satisfied. In this case, I noticed that I hadn’t made the mouth as wide as it should be (the corners of your mouth should be straight down from the center of the eyes) Don’t get frustrated that you did something wrong, but glad that you know enough to see what you did wrong! That is the first and biggest step to improving.

I don’t know if this will be any help or not, but I tried to break it down to the essentials. I literally spent years learning how to do this, so condensing it into a single post is…hard. ^_^; Let me know if there is anything more specific you wanted to know!!

[haberdashing]

Avarice (6/6)

AU of the Transcendence AU where Grunkle Stan becomes a demon instead of Dipper.

Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

on AO3

also on ff.net (no link because filters)

“Grunkle Ford, Grunkle Ford, look what we found!”

Ford let out a noise of surprise as he turned and threw the nearest of a sizable stack of crumpled-up wads of paper at the source of the words. The paper ball harmlessly bounced off an unbothered Mabel, who was excitedly waving a notebook page in the air, the wide grin on her face rivaled only by that of her brother.

Ford let out a sigh of relief as he pushed himself up from the desk, where he had been crouched over notes, head and arms encircling the papers. “I’m sorry, Mabel, you just... startled me.”

“Pssh.” Mabel used her free hand to make a gesture waving away Ford’s concern. “Not a problem. But look, we found something in your notes that could help against Bill!” She waved the notebook page around even more enthusiastically, the paper curving and flapping in the air.

“Careful with that! Here, let me get a closer look.”

“Oh. Right.”

Ford stepped closer, and Mabel held out the page. It didn’t look particularly remarkable at a glance, displaying nothing that looked particularly menacing or lethal, just a few small pictures and scribbled descriptions of several rather mundane-looking objects.

Ford examined the page closely, tracing the writing with his finger before eventually resting his thumb next to a picture of something that looked as much like a cheap gift shop knick-knack as a magical artifact worthy of serious study, muttering to himself all the while, before finally glancing back up at Dipper and Mabel. “Good find, you two.”

“Dipper found it, actually.” Mabel extended her arm towards her brother, who stood up straighter at the mention of his name.

“A-and I was thinking-” Dipper rummaged through his vest before retrieving a small notebook, which he flipped through frantically. “-if we combined that with-”

“Quiet now.” Ford scanned the room, but overlooked Stan’s hiding spot near the bottom of the tarp. (Stan always had been the better of the two at hide and seek.) “He’s probably watching us as we speak. If we’re going to plan anything, we need to do it as quietly and stealthily as possible, so that there’s a chance he might not notice.”

And so Ford and the kids gathered together supplies and huddled around a piece of... was that parchment? Of all the things Ford could have around as writing material, he was using parchment? At least that’s what it looked like, a giant piece of off-white paper, nothing like the stuff you’d buy at the store...

The three sketched and wrote frantically on the paper, but the way they all leaned over it made it damn near impossible for Stan to get a glimpse at their plans, even when he eventually inched away from the tarp and closer to their work. They worked for minutes, maybe hours, it was hard to tell, but eventually the three split up and started working on separate projects, ones that still didn’t make much sense as Stan watched them being made piece by piece. But one pattern emerged from their work.

Apparently, to defeat a demon triangle, you needed... circles. Lots and lots of circles.

The circle that Mabel was working on was composed of wood, thin pine boughs twisted and bent until they joined together to make a circle as wide as Mabel was tall, a fact repeatedly demonstrated by her laying down in the middle while doing her work (and when she occasionally flopped down on top of the circle when she had had enough and needed a break). Across the circle, she made intricate loops and patterns with off-white string, geometric shapes arranged just so, with all the lines eventually criss-crossing around the circle’s center. On roughly a quarter of the circle she hung neon-colored strings and lined them with thick beads and brightly-dyed feathers.

It was, admittedly, a magnificent crafts project,  but its connection to the situation at hand was utterly lost on Stan.

Dipper’s project was a bit more straightforward. He made a circle out of rainbow hair, unicorn hair, and Stan had seen a similar lining just outside the Shack, could guess its intended purpose. There was more to the circle than the hair, too- stones dotted its perimeter at regular locations, and all around the edge had been sprinkled drops of mercury, the silver beads gleaming as they were carefully nudged into place. The space that this barrier encompassed was a bit smaller than that of Mabel’s wooden circle; within it lay a large stack of books, the memory gun that Ford had used to get rid of the feds, and, for some reason, a spray bottle full of unidentified clear liquid. (Stan would have liked to assume that the liquid was water. Stan knew better.)

Ford used thick white chalk to outline circles within circles within circles, the outermost one significantly dwarfing the other two projects. (Only one room in the house had enough open space for such a project, and upon poking his head into the basement, Stan had found its floor conveniently vacant; he hadn’t seen the cleaning happen, but the dust of the basement floor matched the dust on Ford’s clothes, and his boots sported a thick layer of mud that hadn’t been there the night before, and he could put together the rest.) Along the chalk lines he added a number of candles- not the ugly squat things Stan kept around in case of a power outage or the thin, colorful ones which had been sitting in a half-empty box in the far reaches of the freezer for decades on end, but long, white, tapered candles, probably meant for some formal occasion, doubtlessly expensive. In between the circles-in-circles Ford wrote symbols, some arcane and some prosaic, some that Stan dimly remembered from old portal-fixing research (was that one from a star chart?) and some that he came across on a daily basis (that tree symbol looked just like the one on that hat Dipper always wore, and he’d seen that shooting star on one of Mabel’s sweaters, and the six-fingered hand... was obvious enough as well).

The work on all three soon turned into mere tweaking, into brushing away lines and replacing them with nearly-identical counterparts, into scraping stones against wood while adjusting their placement slight fractions of an inch, into breaking out a tool Stan dimly remembered from math class to make sure that the string patterns were aligned just so. Stan didn’t know where to look, or what to look for. He suspected that that was rather the point.

Ford came up to check on the kids and their work every so often.

He did not, Stan noted, invite them to do the same.

The last of his check-ups came hours after the summer sun had set, and while in the others Ford had ended his examinations with long lists of things that needed to be edited or redone, this time he offered only a few minor additions, the critique far outweighed by praise. The three stood together inside the unicorn hair circle as Ford rambled on about something to do with the special properties of mercury on wood.

Stan was on the outside of the circle; he couldn’t join them if he tried (and he had tried, had tried several times now, growing bolder as the hours fled by and little seemed to change). Sure, the barrier was made with sparkly hair and gemstones, and the others had no trouble scampering through what looked to the world like thin air, but for Stan it might as well have been a metal wall- it was hard and smooth and cold and even if he charged at it with all his might, Stan wasn’t so sure it’d be the one to budge.

Stan leaned back against the barrier, which came into view as he made contact, emitting a purple-tinged glow riddled with strange sigils.

“Neat trick there, I’ll give you that one.”

Ford didn’t pause his nerd rant for even a moment to show that he’d heard.

“If I knew how to make these work for, er, normal people, the Mystery Shack would have its newest attraction ready to go!”

That one merited a pause, a pause followed by Ford spitting out words rapid-fire as if to make up for lost time.

Stan could practically feel Ford’s gaze burning into the back of his head.

He didn’t turn around.

“I can see it now...” Stan held up his hands as if framing a sign. “’The Invisi-Maze: More fun than the eye can handle!’ Or somethin’ like that, anyway...”

Stan’s arms fell back as he finished gesturing, and he kept slipping as he tried to reposition himself against the awkwardly-curved barrier, eventually taking a step back altogether. He glanced briefly at the colorful barrier before it rippled back into invisibility, revealing a brother who was indeed giving him a vicious glare.

“Probably, uh, hafta get that glow thing in check first. But forget the hall of mirrors, any two-bit hole in the wall can throw together one of those, but an actual invisible maze, hell, what tourist wouldn’t pay out the nose for something like that...”

“This is more than mere fodder for some cheap tourist attraction, Sta-”

All eyes fell on Ford as he halted his speech in the middle of the word. He rubbed one hand against his temple, breaths deep and quick as he paused before speaking up again, voice rushed and with a hint of a tremor.

“Bill, you’re Bill, I know you’re Bill-”

“Grunkle Ford, what’s going on?”

“What’s he doing? Is there something we can do to help?”

Dipper grabbed Ford’s loose hand, and as Ford let his other hand drop back to his side Mabel latched onto it in turn. Ford’s breathing slowed as he squeezed the twins’ hands, though there was still a slight weakness in his voice as he responded.

“...Never mind that. More importantly, I believe I’ve been lecturing you two for far too long.” He let out a noise that was clearly intended as some manner of laugh, but fell far short of the mark. “What matters is that you’ve both done a fine job, and both of these should do quite well to help us defeat Bill.”

Ford shot Stan a quick glare. Stan shot one right back.

“In fact, take the rest of the night off. We can do any minor tweaks in the morning, but I wouldn’t worry too much about that.”

“And what about you?”

“I’ll be tending to my own project down in the basement. I’ll see you again come morning.”

“Can we help?”

“No!”

A moment of silence fell upon the room before Ford attempted to soften his reply.

“It’s very- very delicate and complicated work, you see, and you two could use the rest anyway-”

“Sure, they’re the ones who need rest.” Stan mumbled.

If Ford heard Stan’s words, he didn’t show it.

“-so I’m sorry, but you can’t join me down there, you really can’t. Just- don’t go in the basement, no matter what, unless your life is in danger.”

“But Grunkle Ford-”

“No buts. I will come to see you in the morning. Until then, just- stay safe, stay up here, and if anything happens, if he...” Ford sighed and squeezed the twins’ hands tightly. “Just be careful. Promise me that.”

Dipper and Mabel looked up at their great-uncle’s deep eyes before nodding.

“We promise.”

“Don’t worry about us, Grunkle Ford- we’re just worried about you!”

“Don’t be.” Ford shook his head and let out another not-quite-laugh. “I’ll be fine. It will all be fine come morning. Now-” Ford released his hands from the children’s grip. “I’m going to go work. Nobody follow me.”

Ford rushed towards the basement entrance, leaving a confused Dipper and Mabel in his wake. Stan, after a brief moment of consideration, followed behind.

Ford worked at a frantic pace, sketching designs that were more and more intricate until Stan could barely make out the individual lines, measuring and re-measuring the circles and the candle placements, consuming prodigious amounts of coffee but no actual sustenance. Stan hung back for the most part, though he didn’t bother hiding from Ford’s view anymore; he made a few passing remarks, attempts to rekindle a conversation, but his words faded and died in the basement’s cold, stale air.

Stan kept his distance as Ford began to light the long, thin candles one by one, going from the outside inward; Stan hung back as Ford reached the center of the innermost circle and got out a fancy-looking knife, its hilt shimmering in the candlelight. Only as Ford pressed the knife into the palm of his hand and beads of crimson blood dripped onto the floor did Stan rush forward, suddenly keenly aware of every microscopic nerve and blood vessel that Ford might have just cut into, all the irreversible damage that might be caused by a single poorly-placed cut.

“Goddammit, Ford, be careful!”

But Ford was faster than him, it seemed, for by the time Stan reached the center Ford was already on the far side of the farthest circle, chanting some gobbledygook that might have been Latin. (Stan suddenly regretted all the times he had nodded off during Latin class.) Ford’s voice reached a crescendo, a wave of warmth passed over Stan...

And then, to Stan’s shock, Ford actually responded to him.

“Since when do you swear?”

“Since, uh, sixth grade? Seventh?” Stan shrugged. “You probably remember better than I do, I wasn’t exactly subtle-”

“That’s not what I meant.”

There was a sound Stan couldn’t quite place, something soft against stone.

“What was that?”

“I’m not getting distracted that easily.”

“No, seriously, what was that?” Stan looked to the source of the sound and saw nothing but a few clumps of dirt and pebbles- though he was pretty sure those hadn’t been there before. “Is this place caving in or something? Because that’s the sort of thing I’d like to know about sooner rather than later, ghost or no.”

“Wh- Look. We can solve this once and for all now. If you really are Stan’s ghost, just leave the circle. A ghost would have no trouble with these wards.”

“Seriously? That’s it?” Stan started floating towards Ford, whose expression was nearly indecipherable. “After all that, I just-”

Stan didn’t mean to scream.

Honestly, he didn’t. But it was only natural that he let out a yelp when he touched that first chalk line and slammed into what felt like a concrete wall and an electric fence put together. There was still no sign to the bare eye that anything was there, no glimmering wall to mark the barrier that was clearly there for him, just a point at which thin air turned into wall and pain.

“I knew it.” There was a cold fury in Ford’s voice, but also a strange melancholy. “This circle was made specifically to contain a demon, to contain you. Which it’s doing quite well, I might add.”

Stan tried to push through, to break whatever barrier those chalk lines had built up, but though he put all his force into it, the only sign that he was doing anything was a few measly sparks and an ever-increasing amount of pain.

Finally Stan fell back, retreating into the circle’s center, not sure that he was ready to concede defeat just yet but willing to at least give himself a little time to recover.

“If- if this thing only works against demons, then...” Stan put together the pieces quickly enough, though he didn’t much like the picture they painted. “Wait, humans can become demons? Does that mean Bill was-”

“No. Humans are humans, demons are demons, and that’s that.”

“Well, the world kind of went topsy-turvy yesterday, clearly a few things must have gone by the wayside...”

“Ah yes, thank you for reminding me of that.” Ford reached into his jacket and pulled out a box nearly as long as he was tall, setting it on the floor- there was a yellow label on the box, and Stan could just barely make out the word Experiment, followed by a three-digit number. “I’m going to make sure you never pull a stunt like that again.”

What Ford grabbed when he opened the box turned out to be a gun- a huge, sci-fi-looking gun, and Ford probably would’ve used fancier words to describe it, but Stan knew a gun when he saw one. It wasn’t the first time he’d found himself on the wrong end of one, either, but as Ford’s aim grew more precise, Stan was beginning to suspect that it would be the last.

“Your reign of terror ends here, Bill.”

“No, wait-” Stan flew upwards as fast as he could, but well before he could reach the ceiling one of those invisible barriers jolted him, sending him reeling back towards the floor. “-c’mon, Ford, don’t do this to me, please-” He tried to swerve, to maneuver around as much as he could to avoid whatever that sci-fi gun had in store for him, but there just wasn’t enough room, and the muzzle was glowing blue and Stan didn’t know exactly what that meant but he was pretty sure it wasn’t good news for him...

For one brief moment, Stan and Ford looked each other in the eye, and Stan silently pleaded to his brother to think twice, tried to save himself without words at a time when words failed him-

-but Ford closed his eyes as his finger twitched against the trigger.

THUMP!

Ford’s aim went awry as the sudden noise distracted him, and the shot landed not on Stan’s head or torso but on his left pinky finger, a grazing shot that nonetheless hurt like hell. What the shot had touched, it had obliterated, leaving Stan with only four fingers remaining on his hand- until, as he watched, bone and muscle and skin appeared out of thin air and stitched itself back together, and after a few long, painful seconds his pinky was back, with no sign left to show that it had ever vanished in the first place.

Ford was watching Stan too, a somber look upon his face as Stan’s finger rebuilt itself, so neither of the two had actually looked over at the source of the sudden sound until-

“Grunkle Ford, what are you doing?”

Both Stan and Ford spun around to find that where there had been nothing but a few rocks, there now stood both Dipper and Mabel, the two wide-eyed and covered in dirt.

“What are you doing?” Ford retorted. “I told you two to stay upstairs!”

“Yeah... about that...” Dipper scratched the back of his head nervously, while Mabel shot Ford a sheepish smile.

“You were acting... kinda suspicious. So I may have- sort of- followed you down here to see what was going on. And once I saw Grunkle Stan I went and got Dipper and-”

“How? I would have heard you using the elevator...”

Before Ford could finish his sentence, Mabel brought out her tool of choice and pointed it triumphantly in the air. “Grappling hook!”

“Wait, wait, wait...” Stan jumped in, and all eyes turned to face him. “You can see me?”

Dipper and Mabel both nodded and made noises of agreement, their wide eyes growing even wider.

Ford impatiently tapped his foot against the ground. “Of course they can see you, it’s a summoning circle, the whole point is that you’re physical until the summons ends-”

“Holy shit, you can- er- don’t tell your parents I said shit, okay?” After a moment’s thought, Stan added, “Actually, don’t tell your parents about any of this. That seems like a bad idea all around.”

“Was this your plan all along, Bill, to drag them into this?”

“Was your plan all along just to shoot me?” Ford stayed silent in the face of this accusation, and Stan, all too aware that Ford’s gun was still aimed in his general direction, pressed on. “All those fancy circles and lines and- it was all just a distraction, wasn’t it?” Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should have known- a classic shell game right there.”

Mabel wrinkled her nose and tilted her head to one side. “A what now?”

“A shell game- you know-” Stan’s hands flailed around in a series of awkward gestures as he attempted an explanation. “-you get three cups and put a ball under one, and move the cups around a bunch and get people to bet on which cup the ball is under, and by the time those rich guys realize you’re palming the ball halfway through you’re walking away a couple hundred dollars richer.” Stan coughed and scratched the back of his neck nervously in the silence that followed. “Uh, not that I’ve done it myself. And you shouldn’t either, it’s a bad idea. Especially once the cops get involved.”

Ford adjusted his glasses before speaking up. “That... is a surprisingly apt metaphor.”

“Was that a compliment? That sounded suspiciously like a compliment.”

“No, absolutely not.”

“Grunkle Ford...” Mabel’s speech was hesitant as she looked from one grunkle to the other. “...were you really going to shoot Grunkle Stan?”

Ford let out a long sigh before responding, resting one hand on Mabel’s shoulder in a gesture of solace. “I’m sorry, Mabel, but that?” Ford pointed to Stan. “That’s Bill. He’s been taking that form this whole time. That is not your uncle.”

“You mean…” Mabel looked at Stan with eyes full of sorrow. “I-in my dream… that was you, wasn’t it?”

Stan let out a long sigh before he could reply, grasping desperately for the right words, but all that came to him was a simple “I’m sorry, Mabel.”

“Don’t…” Mabel started, but the sentence trailed off without an end. Evidently Stan wasn’t the only one desperately scrambling for words.

“But we’ve got him now. Bill’s trapped in that circle, and one good shot from this-” Ford gestured awkwardly in Stan’s direction with his gun. “-will be enough to destroy him for good.”

Ford started aiming, but his arm was shaking and his fingers trembling and Dipper and Mabel were in front of him now, off to the side but only just- too close, much too close for comfort-

“Dipper, Mabel, for Pete’s sake get out of the way!”

Stan hadn’t meant for the words to be more than a mere whisper, hadn’t really expected the kids to heed his warning, but the words echoed through the stone chamber all the same, and all eyes turned to him.

Mabel looked at Ford, then at Stan, before taking a step forward. “No.”

“What?” Stan and Ford asked in near-unison.

“I said, no! I won’t get out of the way!” Mabel walked- no, ran towards the circle, passing through its chalk lines with ease before standing directly in front of Stan, her arms waving wildly in the air. “If you’re gonna shoot Grunkle Stan, you’re gonna have to go through me!”

Ford lowered his gun, though his grip on it remained tight.

“A-and me!” Dipper didn’t move quite as fast as Mabel had, and his eyes stayed glued to the ground until after he had navigated the last of the chalk lines, but when he turned to face Ford, his gaze was just as fierce as his sister’s. “You’ll have to go through me first.”

“Don’t you see what he’s doing?” Ford’s voice was hoarse and anguished. “Bill knows you care about Stan, he’s- he’s using that against us, using that to-”

“No. No, no, no, no, no.”

Dipper and Mabel looked up at Stan as he spoke, and Stan took that opportunity to grab them both, holding them at arm’s length away from him. They felt light as a feather, their weight barely even registering to him, and though they squirmed and struggled it was a cinch to keep them more or less in place.

“Neither of you pipsqueaks are dying on my account, got it?”

The only response Stan got was a few noises of protest and one solid bite to the arm, but then, he hadn’t been expecting much else.

“You want to kill me, Ford? Well, here’s your chance. Got a nice, clean shot for you here. No shields, no distractions, no nothin’. Just get it over with so you and the kids can go about your lives already.” After a moment’s pause, Stan added, “And for God’s sake, don’t close your eyes when you shoot this time.”

Stan locked eyes with his brother; Ford was doing an admirable job of keeping a neutral expression. For a moment, Stan thought he saw the gun moving out of the corner of his eye, thought he saw it rising up to point his way once more-

Clang!

The gun hit the ground near Ford’s feet, and Ford’s now-empty hands were shaking violently.

“I... I’ve been an idiot, haven’t I, Stanley?”

“Yup.” Stan loosened his grip on Dipper and Mabel, and as the two stood by his side, Stan couldn’t help but break out into a grin. “And here I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”

Ford smiled back at Stan, and the sight made his heart soar. “Evidently not.”

“I think this calls for a GROUP HUG!”

Stan winced a little as Mabel shrieked into his ear; she may have felt light in his hands, but her voice was clearly as loud as ever. “Mabel, I don’t think F-”

“Well, if you insist...”

Ford walked towards Stan, his steps slow and deliberate as he stepped between the chalk lines. Dipper and Mabel grabbed onto Stan and embraced him tightly, and once Ford entered the center circle they embraced him as well. Stan was slow to embrace them back, half-expecting that his arm would pass through them as it had before, but no, they were there and they were real and he could feel their warmth as they clung to him and if he were still human Stan might have been concerned that Mabel’s tight grip was going to cut off his circulation, but that was one small upside of the situation, that he wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore...

Stan wasn’t sure when, exactly, Ford joined the hug, but soon enough Stan realized that the kids alone couldn’t account for all the limbs latching onto him, and once he focused on it he could tell that yes, there was definitely a six-fingered hand patting him on the back. For one shining moment they were all there, all together, all hugging, and Stan knew deep down that despite all the shit he’d gone through, things were going to be okay, at least more or less.

Then Mabel lifted her hands into the air and screamed “GROUP HUG!” again and the group broke apart a little bit, though they were still close, still nearly touching as they faced one another in the circle.

Stan was the first to speak up after that.

“So, uh, Ford, you said something earlier about this circle making me physical, right? How’s all that work?”

Ford nodded and took a breath before replying. “It’s a summoning circle, it binds demons- which, in this case means you I suppose- I, I still don’t know how that works-” Stan was pretty sure that even if he hadn’t been looking right at Ford, he still would have felt the force of his brother’s wide-eyed gaze as he hesitated for a moment and looked him at him up and down before continuing. (Stan glanced downward for a brief moment and realized that his feet still weren’t quite touching the floor.) “-anyway, it binds demons to the physical plane temporarily, until one of two things happens: either we make a deal-”

“Not happening.” Stan interjected.

“Or... or the summons runs out of time.”

“And then these numbskulls-” Stan wrapped one arm around Dipper and the other around Mabel. “-won’t be able to see me anymore?”

“Not unless we perform another summoning, no.”

“Alright. So.” Stan’s grasp on Dipper and Mabel grew slightly tighter. “You’re the brainiac here, Ford, so tell me. How long have we got?”

[almaasi]

reaction post typed while watching SPN 13x02 “The Rising Son”

me: *waving pom poms* JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK

04:45pm

so... a deadly duo episode right?? oh no

expectations: jack being a cute lil nugget

hopes: ???? not being offensive, dean mourning

-

04:48

demon: “he will make hell great again”

i dunno what the hiatus did to me but i feel like i’m Over this parallel

not a fan of pellegrino, or trump, so it’s all one big ball of nope

fingers crossed these non-white demons live to see another episode

-

04:51

...missed opportunity for a cooler entrance frankly

(what was his name? 4th demon of hell)

-

04:53

what a jerk

-

04:54

DEAN DRIVE SLOWER WOW

-

also sometimes i think about how jack basically has 5 dads

lucifer

cas

sam

dean

the president of the united states

-

04:57

right now i’m having a lot of trouble separating lucifer’s face from pellegrino’s values

i kiiiinda liked lucifer before (in like a “love to hate him” sort of way) but hrhrhgh can’t really stand him at all now i know what the actor’s like

the actor always kinda bleeds into the character anyway. like how in season 10 cole was never really anyone’s darling, and the actor turned out to be a turd. and how misha is a sparkly gem person and he makes cas lovable too

y’know that thing where good, kind thoughts make a person beautiful regardless of how “attractive” they are?? yeah, that thing. pellegrino’s face has a toxic skew on it now

-

05:03

although that thing he did with his hands after he said “i don’t want you dead, because i need you alive” was funny

-

05:06

i want a season-long arc of this sensible downtrodden secretary demon usurping the throne and becoming king of hell

-

05:09

jack is so much like cas.............oh i love hhim

protect him !!!!!!

EEYYY SCOOBY DOO

-

05:20

awww DEANIE

I’M EMOTIONAL

HE’S SO TIRED AND HE’S JUST A BLOB HE NEEDS A REST AND CARTOONS

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

I LOVE THEM BOTH

I LOVE THEM ALL

AHHHHHH

-

05:11

i want episodes where dean and cas and sam and jody and donna are looking after claire and jack together and they get along and HAVE CHRISTMAS TOGETHER PLEASE PLEASE

that was be cool

...maybe my christmas fic this year who knows

-

05:13

JACK LIKES BURGERS

oh god pleases let dean see the similarities and want to keep jack ‘cause he misses cas

-

05:14

“wait wait wait how old do you think you are?”

omgggggggggggg

;u;

also? appreciating that dean wouldn’t let underage kids drink. i’m writing an au fic right now where he cares about that, but i was concerned it would be out of character to some extent? i figured in canon maybe he’d let kids try a sip of something if they were supervised, even if it was illegal

-

05:16

THE FACT HE’S COPYING DEAN

LIKE CAS DID BUT MORE OBVIOUSLY

HELP

-

05:18

“he’s family and that’s... good”

i can’t comprehend how much i love jack?? it was all so fast and i want him to stick around

he’s small and soft and confused and i want to see him smile

-

05:19

i wonder if jack is mimicking dean so dean likes him more

it would make more sense to mimic sam since they already have a bond

and yet...

-

05:21

dean! the dude’s 3 days old and you’re bothered by the fact he doesn’t know what “teleport” means ?

-

THE SOFT GENTLE KNOCK

-

05:24

the fact the question “is god with you?” has such a different meaning in this show compared to real life

-

05:25

does jensen have a little scar on his chin? i swear i’ve noticed it before, the lighting makes it obvious here

also, he’s purty ~

-

SO purty

-

05:31

that’s cas’ face right there

-

05:32

JEEZ TATTOO DUDE PLEASE PUT SOME GLOVES ON

-

05:33

IT GOT WORSE. I HOPED MAYBE HE’D PUT GLOVES ON BEFORE STARTING BUT NOPE. AND DID HE OPEN THE INK PACKETS FRESH OR SPEND SOME TIME DISINFECTING NOPE

DID HE SKETCH THE THING OUT FIRST OR ASK ABOUT THE EXACT PLACEMENT

NOPE

/ENDLESS RECOILING

IF DEAN AND SAM DON’T HAVE HIV .......................

-

05:37

sam: “looks good, jack”

actually no it looks a lil skewed... could’ve been better

but serves its purpose i guess

-

05:38

dean: “didn’t see cas smiting someone every time he got his teeth cleaned”

DID THEY GO TO THE DENTIST TOGETHER

*pauses to imagine dean holding cas’ hand and rolling his eyes as cas squints and frowns at the dentist’s buzzy brush thing*

i always wondered about that. ‘cause misha has fillings and sometimes you could see them in cas’ mouth too (obviously it’s unavoidable) but can angels not heal their rotten teeth??? what a bummer

-

05:42

sam totally gets dean and doesn’t judge him for having his “wires crossed” and i love him for that

-

05:44

sign behind the lady that says “sheeps” while dean’s talking to her

second reference to sheep and dean this episode?? sam said he was hallucinating sheep on the road before

and !!! JACK IS THE LION

AND THE LAMB LIES DOWN WITH THE LION

or something like that i forget

!!!!!

quick google search: “The "lion and the lamb shall lay down together" is cited as a prophecy of a coming utopia. But there is a problem with this: it does not occur in the Bible!” // “the “lion and the lamb,” Isaiah 11:6 is in mind due to it often being misquoted, “And the wolf will dwell with the lamb, and the leopard will lie down with the baby goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them.”

HOT DAMN

-

05:50

is that a bisexual light i see

“jack” in the background too

-

05:52

alternate reading: lamb to the slaughter

-

05:53

what i wanna know is why nobody made a big deal about the nephilim who was working in a cafe a few years ago? the time cas and metatron went there and cas said his coat was actually quite warm

-

05:56

RIP HIS FACE OFF MARY

-

05:57

where’s the episode where the women aren’t tossed from one man to another, forced to do their bidding

the deadly duo are the WORST at this

i’m still not over rowena for the record

-

06:00

the set designers did such an interesting job with this hotel

i still wanna try my hand to being a set designer sometime in my life i think

-

06:03

dean is such an impressive fucking human being

(he just killed a demon from 12 feet away... goddamn)

-

06:06

i fucking LOVE the vibe of driving down a country road in summer

even with the drama

-

06:08

everything lucifer says sounds like pellegrino now

what a condescending jerkface

-

06:11

with this whole thing in black and white i can’t tell if michael is a white dude or not

-

06:13

while it makes sense, something about this episode feels disjointed. like all the scenes and segments aren’t quite fully relevant to each other. specifically the lucifer+mary stuff vs. everything else

-

06:18

lucifer: “kill me?”

michael: “maybe not. maybe.... i need you”

oooooh michael just did to lucifer what lucifer was doing to mary

-

06:19

dean: “if it comes to killing you... i’ll be the one to do it”

poor kid. i can’t help but ...understand how terrible that must be for a teenager to hear. magic and supernatural aside, to have to live with someone who wants you dead, and doesn’t trust you ?

it hurts a lot

and even though the logic mostly adds up, it hurts that dean would do this to jack when he went through such a shitty childhood himself, without trust or affection

treating a child as untrustable is a surefire way to make them that way

or at least it would make jack feel like it’s excusable to give in, if the urge to hurt someone ever did arise, since it’s ~inevitable~

-

ah. dean leaves the room with a bloody knife in one hand a a beer bottle in the other

how symbolic

someone help him

-

06:24

HOKAY it’s over

that was.....good? i was surprised

only a few women died and some people of colour SURVIVED which is impressive for the deadly duo. one misogynistic slur, and then the would-be rapist got ganked by lucifer.... not sure what to make of that

i just..........i love jack

so much

and i hear cas is back next episode and I’M INCREDIBLY HAPPY ABOUT THAT

i was under the impression this episode was called “the rising sun” rather than “son” and i thought it seemed relevant to cas, but i guess the sun symbolism could refer to jack too?

anyway i’d give it a 8/10 - it lacked a solid full-circle thing imo, but was otherwise a decent linking episode

also donatello was fun, i like him

BRING ON THE CAS EPISODES !!!!!!!!!!!

[allebooklover]

Playing Postman (of Love)

@girls-with-boys-names - Thank you for waiting, I’m your Secret Santa! Happy New Year!

This is for the @voltron-ss! Apologies for the delay, I had trouble figuring out what romantic love is like. Tbh I still don’t entirely get how it feels, but I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: When Keith’s long-time crush leaves a package in his room, Keith’s decision to return it brings more than he bargains for.

Tags: Keith, Lance, Klance, college au, slowburn?

wordcount: 6234 words

Disclaimer - I don’t own these characters, they’re all from Voltron Legendary Defenders, all I own is the situations I cast them into.

It begins with a party.

To be more precise, it begins the morning after the party when Keith wakes up and heads to the kitchen for something to drink. He’s certainly not expecting that his first step into the kitchen would result in something papery crinkling under foot - with a yelp, Keith steps back, hoping against hope that it wasn’t one of Shiro’s books.

Fortunately for Keith, it’s not one of Shiro’s books - it’s a parcel, dressed in Red wrapping paper that’s decorated with cute little reindeer. It’s around the length of half his arm, and when Keith carefully prods it with a finger it’s soft, a barely audible crinkling noise that Keith Recognizes as wrapping tissues. Whatever is inside it is thankfully undamaged by Keith’s wrong foot placement.

Carefully, Keith places the package down on the table, transferring beer bottles and empty cans to the ground. The entire room is a mess now that Keith’s more alert to notice, actually - there’s obvious attempts at tidying up, as evident by a full plastic bag at the corner of the room, but it’s half hearted. There are pillows and books strewn around like the remnants of a pillow fight, and underneath the table is an open bag of chips and, surprisingly, the remaining half of what seems to be a pack of bud. Shiro must have been feeling really bad to leave it undone, but Keith can take care of the rest. Grabbing the pack of chips, Keith flops onto the sofa, hands clasped loosely together in thought as he stares intently at the parcel.

It’s not his. Keith doesn’t remember buying anything that’s covered in Red wrapping paper. It’s also not from his roommate - Shiro would have told Keith of it if it was. But whose parcel could it be then?

Maybe it was one of the guests from last night. Closing his eyes, Keith tries to recall who’d been at the celebration party. The memories appear like a string of bubbles, one after another - Hunk experimenting in the kitchen what beer could fry while they all acted as test eaters, Shiro and Allura and Matt patting themselves on the back for surviving finals, Pidge tipsily mumbling complex equations about space, Lance laughing as he leant against the sofa, cheeks flushed red, One warm arm around a two-glasses-more-than-he -should’ve-drunk Keith and the other on -

-On a red parcel with tiny deer decorations that was the length of Keith’s arm.

Keith’s eyes snaps open. Bingo.

A quick hunt confirms Keith’s suspicions - there’s a post it note containing ‘don’t forget’ in Lance’s handwriting a few feet away the parcel. It must have fallen off when Keith slipped on it. Lance must have forgotten about it while he was heading out with the others. Another quick search results in Keith’s phone - how the hell did it end up under the sofa? Keith’s barely finished sweeping it out from where it lay (alongside a small variety of dust bunnies) before he’s typing in Lance’s number.

“Hello!” Lance says after what feels like forever. Keith’s heart quickens. “This is Lance, if you’re hearing this I’m not capable of using my phone right now so leave a-“

Keith jabs the ‘end dial’ button with slightly more force than necessary. “Oh C’mon!” He yells when he reaches Lance’s voicemail for the third time. One repeat call later and that’s it - With a growl that only reveals the surface of the boiling vat of irritation inside him, Keith grabs the parcel and heads for his room.

Rationally, Keith knows that he can just wait till the next day to hand it over. Too bad that he doesn’t like to owe people things. Besides, Lance would probably accuse him of stealing if he waited too long, like the Bean Snake Incident of last year, and Keith absolutely refuses to go through that again so fuck it, if Lance can’t be reached through the phone, Keith is going to reach him in person. They all go to the same college - it’s how Keith met all of them (minus Shiro), and he can still remember Lance complaining about morning classes yesterday. All Keith has today is a lecture in the afternoon, but that doesn’t mean he can’t go there early to hand Lance his things back and get lunch in the process. That’s all there is to it.

(And if it means seeing Lance smile and getting more time to hang out with his long-term entirely secret crush, well, that was Keith’s secret and nobody else’s.)

Reaching the college is easy, even with a little detour for some coffee. Getting in touch with Lance is, unfortunately, a little more harder.

“What do you mean, he’s not here?” Keith demands. The great stream of bodies that had flowed outside when the clock struck forty-five has dissipated into mere trickles by the time Keith had made it to the lecture hall, and the only person he’s managed to spot is Pidge, with her short stature and large round frames. “It’s his class! He’s supposed to be here!”

“It’s been seven minutes since class ended, Keith.” Pidge says, deadpan. “Lance is long gone. What’d you expect?”

“Ungh.” Keith groans, shoulders slumping in dismay. When he’d set out, he hadn’t exactly thought about what to do in case he missed Lance. “I don’t know, I guess I’d expected to - to run into him or something. Do you know where he is?”

“Well.” Pidge hums thoughtfully. The gaze she directs at Keith is one part amusement, one part analytic and three parts burning curiosity. Keith crosses his arms and tries not to feel like he’s a bug under a microscope. “I might, and I might not. Why’re you looking for him?”

Keith pulls out the red package. “He left this at my house. You remember the Bean Snake Incident in first year?”

“Oh yeah.” Pidge grins. “Aisle three in the supermarket, the pineapple-”

“That wasn’t my fault!” Keith interrupts, cheeks blazing red. “That was Lance! And the pineapple too!”

“Sure.” Pidge’s smirking now, eyes gleaming with amusement behind the glasses she wears. “Suuuure it wasn't your fault. Just like that time in class where everyone had to evacuate because of burning paper aeroplanes."

"That was because-"

"Yeah, I know, I was there." Pidge cuts in, and Keith wonders if Matt would forgive him if he punched his little sister in the shoulder. "But yeah." The smile slips away into a serious look. "Yeah, I understand why you don't want a repeat of last year."

"Exactly!" Oh thank whoever was up there for Pidge to understand so easily. "So will you finally tell me where he is?"

"Hmm." Pidge trails off, hands stroking her chin in thought as she leans against the wall. Keith can see the gears rotate over her head as she thinks - from the look on her face, it's as if she's half curious to see how things play out without her help. One minute passes, then two, and just as Keith is about to - barge off on a hide and seek chase around campus, shake Pidge by the shoulders, pull out the chit of favors she owes him, who knows just anything but standing around and waiting - something flickers across her face. "Alright, I'll help you out. Block fifty-two, level one, room one-oh-two. Hunk asked Lance to come by during free time - that's probably where he'll be. Mind you, I dunno if he's still there, but it's a good place to start."

Keith grins, eyes lighting up. "Thanks, Pidge." He says, turning. The campus map flashes through his mind - block 52 isn’t that far away from where he was right now, he could make it in five minutes if he ran. "See you later!"

"No problemo, lover boy. And eh, I’ll pass." Pidge grins, eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Professor Slav is teaching about parallel universes today, don’t wanna miss it -”

Keith’s jacket was already disappearing around the corner with its owner before Pidge could finish her sentence, heart pounding lance, lance, lance in his ears at a steady rhythm.

The room Pidge directed him to turned out to be a mixture of science laboratory and relaxation room. One side was filled with engineering equipment and what looked like a bunch of half finished work projects, and an open doorway leading to the other side had an empty spot which was furnished with a bunch of chairs and desks. Hunk was at one of those desks, sketching something out on a scrap of paper with a pencil beside a bunch of machine parts Keith didn't know the name of - the screech of surprise Hunk emits when Keith barges into the room almost makes him skid into a table.

"Aaagh IswearI’mnotsle - Oh, it's just you Keith. Jeez." Hunk rested a hand against his heart as Keith pants for breath, hands on knees. "Jeez, you scared the quiznak out of me! Never do that again or I swear no peanut butter cookies for you."

"S-Sorry," Keith wheezed. Oh god, running here had been a mistake. One he was never going to make again. "Just - huff - looking for - pant - Lance. Is he here?"

"Ohhh." Keith's hope wobbles at Hunk’s tone. It crashes into the rocks with the force of a meteor when Hunk shakes his head apologetically. "Sorry dude, he left ages ago. Why're you looking for him?"

"He left this at my apartment." Brushing sweaty hair out of his eyes, Keith reaches into his bag and pulls out the package. "I wanted to give it back because I don’t want last year happening again. Know where Lance went?"

“Last year?” Hunk takes the package before Keith can stop him and lifts it into the air, examining it with a broad grin. “Ohh. You mean the time when you and Lance -”

“Hunk.” Keith’s glare could evaporate water.

“Right, right, sorry.” Hunk says not-so-apologetically, giving the package back. “But yeah, let’s not go through that again. And sorry, man, I dunno where Lance went.” Hunk’s shrug syncs perfectly with the shattering of the remainder of Keith’s hope. “The only reason he came here was because I asked him to help me out with my project. He left ages ago. Sorry.”

It's official - Keith's heart drops through his boots and into the center of the earth. "Great." He groans, collapsing onto a chair. "Just great."

"Hey, hey, it's not that bad." Hunk says sympathetically, patting Keith on the back. “No worries, my dude, we can just call him - oh wait he was complaining about having no battery and forgetting his charger at home, guess that’s out of the question.”

Keith’s head lands on the table with a thunk.

“But!” Hunk continues hastily. “I do know where he is.”

Keith’s butt is already launching out of the chair by the time Hunk finishes the sentence. “Where?”

Hunk beams like an angel. He’s holding a round container now, and he thrusts it towards Keith. “I’ll tell you after you finish drinking this.” The spicy and savory smell that wafts out of the container has Keith salivating like a dog. Inside is an creamy sort of soup, little bits of onions and croutons mixed into it, and Keith has never been hungrier. “You look like you need some hydration - whoa!”

Keith is vaguely aware of Hunk jumping back as he lifts the bowl towards his mouth, but he doesn’t care - it’s lukewarm, almost cold, but the flavors mix together in blissful harmony down his throat and oh god, why hadn’t he realised how dry his throat had been? The container is empty almost before Keith realises, and he places the container down carefully on the table, almost regretful that there hadn’t been more to consume.

“Whoa.” Hunk’s staring wide eye at him as Keith turns to face him, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Man, I hadn’t realised you needed it that badly - ok, ok, don’t look at me like that, Lance left for the gym on the other side of campus to see if Allura had a charger since I forgot mine too.”

“Got it.” Keith strides across the room. The soup is already doing its work - it rests comfortably in his belly, warming him up and calming him down, and Keith hadn’t realised how hungry and irritated he’d been until then.  At the door, Keith pauses and looks back over his shoulder. “Thanks, buddy.” he says, grinning, and he doesn’t just mean for Lance’s location. Hunk’s food truly is miraculous, right down to the effects on the soul.

Hunk grins and waves back, and Keith has never been more grateful in his life. “No problem, buddy. Good luck finding him!”

Keith tries. Truly, he does.

He reaches the gym in record time. Only the quick reflexes he’d trained in tae-kwan-do saves him from a nasty collision with Allura when he pulls open the door just as she’s about to head out - Lance isn’t there and Allura doesn’t know where he is. Trail gone cold, Keith heads to the dance studio Shiro’s at -

Which isn’t where Lance is either.

Science lab? No Lance to be seen.

The pool? All Keith gets is a story about three dozen roses, a Sasquatch costume and the teacher’s dog, but there’s no Lance to laugh it over with him.

The study halls beside the pool?

“Lance!” The relief that shoots through Keith’s heart at the sight of that familiar green jacket is almost sharp enough to make him double over. A small grin spreading across his face, Keith begins to make his way through the crowd as Lance whirls around. It takes him a few seconds to see Keith. When their eyes meet, Keith’s heart quickens up almost unwillingly, and he gives a small wave.

Keith is expecting a wave back, maybe a small chat, definitely a smile of acknowledgement that he was there. Secretly, he hopes for a light to shine up in Lance’s eyes like how Keith feels whenever they’re laughing with each other instead of engaging in passionate debate.an affectionate tone to his greeting; but Keith is alright with the former.

What he does not expect is for Lance’s eyes to go wide and his face to flush up like an exploding tomato and for Lance to pat his classmate on the shoulder before turn tail and run away.

It’s like seeing an optical illusion in 3D, except it’s happening in the real world. For a moment, Keith’s world goes off beat, a rock in the boat that almost sends him staggering. By the time it uprights itself Lance is out of sight before Keith can even consider yelling.

What the fucking hell.

No matter where Keith goes, he can’t find Lance. It's like trying to find Waldo while Waldo is on the move and the finder wearing an eyepatch and looking through the wrong side of a binocular. With each passing location and no familiar tall lean figure appearing, Keith's heart sinks lower and lower. Desperation and misery swirls through him and hardens into rocks that weigh him down into the sea of despair with each passing step, and it's only through sheer stubborn tenacity that Keith manages to keep himself afloat.

Why was Lance avoiding him? Keith’s been looking everywhere and he still hasn’t found him - was Lance deliberately hiding from him? It has to be something from last night - they’d been buddies until then, but try as he might Keith can’t remember much. Questions swirled around in Keith’s head like woodpeckers carving into Keith’s heart, and try as he might, Keith couldn’t dislodge the nagging doubt that sprouted thorny vines in his heart which squeezed in pain.

And just as always, the misery and desperation slowly transforms into anger. Anger and anxiety that bubbles under Keith’s skin like molten lava with no way out. Gritting his teeth, Keith makes his way through the plaza. It’s on the way to his next destination - the almighty cafeteria, center of chaos and noise, homing beacon to generation upon generation of hungry students, the bane and salvation of Hunk’s domain (Keith still doesn’t know how Hunk managed to strike up a deal with the Drink Vendor Grannies and Sal). It’s his last resort to finding Lance - if Lance isn’t amongst the hundreds of students lounging in the cafeteria, Keith is officially giving up and heading back to the gym to punch his grievances out onto an unfortunate training dummy.

Fortunately for Keith’s heart and the training dummy, Keith spies a familiar tall lean figure exiting the cafeteria.

Keith blinks in disbelief. Then he blinks again. Nope, Lance is still there - wearing his dark green hoodie, talking casually to a girl Keith vaguely recognizes from science class, waving his hands animatedly in the air as he grins brightly as the sun. If Lance is the sun, Keith is the moon - just seeing that cheerful grin causes Keith to be overwhelmed with emotions and two thoughts smal into his head with the force of duo meteor.

One of those thoughts is ‘oh fuck he looks hot smiling like that I want to kiss him.’

The second thought, which is actually more of an afterthought but still extremely prevalent, is ‘I am going to punch that smile off his face. And then kiss him after. But first imma punch him.”

Eyes narrowed in irritation, Keith makes his way over with all the stealth of a ninja - he even crawls behind a bush in case Lance spots him.

Lance doesn’t spot him. Unfortunately, Lance’s classmate does.

“Hey, Lance.” She points at Keith’s direction. “Isn’t that your friend?”

“Oooh, who?” Lance turns with a grin, eyes shining. “Is it Matt? Cause I really need to-”

Lance’s jaw snaps shut when he sees Keith looking up from the floor. Their eyes meet.

Keith can see the instant Lance’s face goes from ‘hello!’ to ‘oh shit its Keith and he’s pissed’ to ‘engage emergency escape program’. Which is why when Lance abruptly turns on his heel to run like the wind, Keith is already scrambling to his feet to chase after him.

“Laaaaance!” Keith runs with the speed and power of a rampaging rhinoceros. Lance might have longer legs but Keith has more stamina, anxious rage pumping a machine gun staccato through his heart and determination fuelling his lungs and legs. “Get back here!”

“No way you’re gonna kill me,” Lance screams back. His leg pumps even faster and somewhere in the back of his mind Keith is appreciating the form of his run and the lines on his back but as the rest of his mind is focused on punching Lance’s face out Keith simply moves faster. “I’m too young to die!”

“I’m not gonna kill you I just-” Two familiar figures in front of them, chatting to one another. Keith’s eyes flashes. “SHIRO!”

Almost in tandem, Shiro and Matt’s heads whirl. It takes them only a moment to register the situation before they’ve spread out like footballers in the final round. Matt sprints the five yard dash, he dives -

- and misses! Lance swerves like a frightened gazelle as Matt bellyflops onto the ground - right into Shiro’s arms.

“Wha-SHIRO NO,” Lance screeches betrayal as he tries to struggle free, but Shiro holds fast. Shiro and his ridiculously solid arm muscles have reigned as the arm wrestling champion for 3 years running before Allura had knocked him off the throne, and they withstand Lance’s wriggling with the ease of a vet holding a cat. “I TRUSTED YOUU,” Lance wails as Keith jogs up to them, wiping sweat out of his eyes.

“This is for the green paint last year,” Shiro says primly as Matt rightens his glasses and asks, like any other sane person would, “Why’re we catching Lance?”

Lance goes limp, clearly giving up on any chance of escaping. “I dunno, he was chasing me so I was running!”

“You don’t know?” Keith growls out breathlessly. His lungs are on fire and his throat is parched dry with smoke, but the answer is like oxygen to the flames of his rage. “What the hell d’you mean you don’t know - You were avoiding me!”

“False accusations, mullet for brains! I was totally not avoiding you I just - just had a uh, a few places to go to cause of Professor Coran-“ Lance pales as Keith draws himself up to his full height, eyes blazing. “Oh god please don’t kill me I swear I’ll keep it a secret-”

“I asked Professor Coran where you were today and he didn’t know you lying s-“

“Alright, calm down.” In situations where tensions run as high as a star in the sky and can turn into a falling meteor of regret and destruction faster than a popped balloon, Shiro’s voice has a particular tone that never fails to send the tension flying back into the stratosphere, and that tone is definitely present now. Lance and Keith immediately fall silent. “What is going on? Keith?”

“I’ve been trying to find Lance all morning.” Keith blurts out. The words rush out of him, water finally freed from its dam and taking the heat of his emotions with it. “I spotted him once but then he just - ran off. For-”

“Wait, secret?” Matt asks just as Lance squawks “That was because,” face blushing red, and even though his heart hurts Keith can’t stop his heart from skipping a beat. People’s heads turn at the noise, eyes going wide before dismissing it as yet another weird part of college life before heading back to their routine, and Lance lowers his voice accordingly. “That was because - just - look.” Lance sighs, scratching his head. “I know you’re mad at me, and I’m sorry. I’ll pretend it never happened and we can continue.”

Keith blinks. The apology is gratifying after all this time, but - something doesn’t feel right. Lance looks resigned like he’s about to get hit by a train and there’s nothing he can do about it, like he’s terrified, and oh shit. It was his temper, wasn’t it, his fucking violent temper messing everything up again. Keith’s heart twinges with guilt - yeah, he’s definitely not punching Lance now, not when he looks like that.

“Ugh,” He forces out, voice painfully stuck in his throat. His arms dangle uselessly at his sides - Keith folds them across his chest and out of the way, not quite looking at Lance’s face. “Look. I’m not mad at you - ok, I am mad at you,” he amends with a scowl at their disbelieving looks, “but not to the point that I want to just. Forget everything that ever happened. It wasn’t even that bad, anyway - I should have tried calling you again.”

(Behind him, Matt turns to Shiro. “Was it just me, or did Lance say secret?”

Tilting Lance to the side so that he can turn his head to the side without mushing Lance’s back against his cheek, Shiro nods. “No, I heard too.” he whispers quietly, directing his eyes away from the redness of Keith’s cheeks. He frowns. “Do you think..?”)

“Nah, that wouldn't have worked, my phone battery’s dead.” Lance waves his hands dismissively. “I forgot my charger and Allura lent hers to Shay. But you really mean it? You’re not mad?”

“Uh.” Keith gulps. Lance doesn’t look like he’s going to cry anymore - his eyes are wide, light falling softly across dark brown eyes that gleam with hope and relief and emotions Keith can’t quite decipher. His lips are slightly curled up, the beginnings of what looks like a smile about to sprout on his face and his cheeks are dusted a dark red for some reason - maybe it was from Shiro squeezing the life out of him. Yep, that's probably it. Keith is only thankful that the sudden wave of affection that’s swamping his heart hasn’t completely taken away his ability to utter words. “Uh. Y-Yeah. Yeah, I’m not mad.”

(“Yeah.” Matt mutters back decisively, grinning. “My bet’s on Lance. Five bucks to the winner?”

“Mine’s on Keith.” Shiro’s eyes glint. “You’re on.”)

“Sweet!” The smile that bursts out on Lance’s face is like seeing a flower sprout, blooming in all its glory. Keith quickly looks away before it blinds him. “Oh thank god,” He says happily as Shiro finally lets his feet touch the ground. “I thought you were going to be so mad that I confessed to you last night-”

What.

Keith freezes. The words echo in his head.

Kissed you last night.

Kissed.

Last Night.

Kissed.

“- thought you forgot because you passed out on me after that but you didn’t, thank god-”

His crush confessed to him and he doesn’t even remember it until said crush brought it up. Inwardly, Keith is screaming, inner world cracking and rebuilding as the words echo in his mind. Why does the world hate him so?

“- so I ran and - hello? Earth to Keith? Dude, anyone there?”

It takes a herculean amount of effort, but Keith finally manages a hoarse, strangled “What.”

“Uh.” Lance blinks at Keith, smile slipping off his face. “What’ as in ‘yeah Lance I’m listening’ what or ‘what the hell is going on’ what?”

Keith’s face is on fire. “What.”

“Oh.” Lance’s face falls. “It’s the latter what, isn’t it? Oh no.”

Behind them, Shiro presses his prosthetic hand over his eyes with a silent groan as Matt raises the green bill in his hand with victory.

“Ok, so let me get this straight. You,” Matt says, pointing a straw at Keith, “Were trying to find Lance because he forgot something at your house after the drinking party and didn’t want things to turn out like the Bean Snake Incident. And you,” He says, straw swivelling over to Lance’s direction, “Thought he was out to turn you down after you confessed to him last night, but he actually didn’t remember and after our lovely little game of Tag you both misunderstood each other epically until Lance confessed again. Right?” Keith nods, still lost for words. They’re in a secluded corner at the student cafe, Matt and Lance on one side with Keith and Shiro on the other. The exits are woefully far away - Keith is under no delusions why such a table was chosen. If any of them wanted to run, they'd have to not only make it past Shiro and Matt, but make it to the doors before the duo caught up. Like it or not, they are having this conversation. Which is, honestly, fine with Keith. A quick pinch to his own wrist has convinced him that he's not dreaming, but he's still not quite sure what's happening. All he knows is that Lance has just confessed to him (to him! Keith internally thanks whoever's up there for a requited crush) and Keith wants to know, well, about everything. If it means remaining in one spot for half an hour while they're eating lunch, Keith is more than willing to do so. Lance, on the other hand, seems less willing. "I still can't believe you betted on us," He's grumbling, leg shaking up and down as he sips his drink restlessly. "Is it revenge for the snowman competition? Because that was totally valid betting, everyone else was doing it!" "It’s not about the snowman competition,” Shiro says calmly over a cup of hot mocha, but it’s a little too innocent to be genuine. “Professor Coran covered for us all in the end anyway. And before you ask, no, this isn’t revenge for the Bean Snake Incident. We’re just worried about you two, that’s all.”

“And what’s in the package?” Matt pipes in. The package Keith had been carrying around all morning was at the center of the table, and Matt pokes curiously at it with a finger. “It must have been a really important present for Keith to run around that much. What’s in it?”

At Matt’s questioning glance, Keith shrugs. “I don’t know.” It has occurred to him to open the package to check it himself, but it felt a lot like losing. “Lance?”

“Ugh, fine.” Lance sighs. “You can open it, Keith. It’s for you, mullethead, so go on, open it already.”

The present was for him? Heart in throat, Keith carefully opens the package.

It’s a scarf. It’s a dark burgundy red, soft wool knitted with a criss cross pattern, and when Keith picks it up it’s soft to the touch. Eyes wide, Keith’s head snaps up, lost for words.

“You remember how you lost your scarf after the Bean Snake Incident?” Lance explains anxiously, scratching the back of his head. “I know you’re still looking for a scarf, so I bought you one. It was my fault after all.” He looks away, cheeks blushing a dark red. “It’s ok if you don’t like it, I know it’s pretty shit, you can just toss it or whatev-“

Lance stops mid-tirade when Keith wraps the scarf around his neck. “Are you kidding? I’m never going to toss this,” he says, affection spreading through him, and he’s not quite sure what expression he has on his face but it’s enough for Lance’s to look like his crops have been watered and they’ve grown a bumper crop of strawberry blushes. “This scarf is perfect, I’m going to wear it until my funeral.”

(Behind them, Matt tilts his head at the two. “You think this is a good time for me to ask what the Bean Snake Incident is?”

Shiro sips his coffee serenely. “Maybe we should wait for them a little more. Or I could tell you while we give them some privacy.”

“I think it’s better if you tell the story,” Matt scoots away from the two with a grin, elbows resting across the table as he leans forward. “There was this mention of paint..?”

“That happens later on.” Shiro leans forward too, grinning conspiratorially as he keeps his voice low. “It begins with…”)

“Are you sure?” Lance asks anxiously. “Because I can get a new one if you don’t like it-“

“The only way you can take this scarf back is over my dead body,” Keith states baldly, but he’s smiling, lips curved up in a slight grin. “This is perfect, Lance, thank you.”

Their eyes meet for a second as Keith glances up. Lance glances away, cheeks reddening, and Keith can feel his cheeks reddening too at the sudden rise of affection and nervousness. Taking a sip of his drink to recenter himself, Keith leans back against the chair, the taste of apples sitting cool on his tongue as he tries to decide how to get to the meat of the conversation - the confession.

He knows that Lance likes him now - how has he never noticed the blushing and lingering gazes before, the way they seek each other out? - and that this is the perfect time to confess, but with Lance sipping at his frappe like he hopes it’ll deter him from any conversation Keith is at a loss on how to approach.

Insides tingling like the butterflies of anxiety are beginning to hatch, Keith takes another sip from his cup in what he hopes is a cool and totally not nervous manner. It takes 8 sips for Keith to give up hope of Lance starting the conversation, and 2 more sips to brace himself to start what is probably going to be the most awkward conversation in his life. Keith's only thankful that Matt and Shiro are too absorbed in their conversation to make it even more awkward. "So." Keith says, clearing his throat. He clutches the edges of the scarf, fingers fidgeting restlessly with the wool. "You uh. You confessed to me last night?"

He's fully prepared for Lance to laugh it off or try to flee, but Lance doesn't do that. Instead, he hunches in on himself, an uncharacteristically serious look spreading on his face as he puts down his drink. "Yeah." Lance says quietly, looking down at his drink. "Yeah, I - I did, ok? Look, it was the alcohol making me talk crazy so you can just.” Lance gives a jerky one shoulder shrug. “Ignore it-“

“No.” Keith puts his drink down and leans forward, eyes staring intensely into Lance’s. Lance freezes. There’s something warm bubbling in Keith’s gut that isn’t the drink, and when Keith says ‘tell me what you said last night,” something in Keith’s voice makes Lance talk instead of clamming up, low and stuttering, face heating up with each word.

“I-I like you, ok? My heart beats faster everytime we talk and it feels like my heart is fluttering and - well, I just." Lance smiles helplessly, almost resigned, and something in Keith’s heart twinges. “I like how passionate you get when you’re debating and how you cross your arms when you’re nervous and how your eyes gleam this weird violet when you turn just right and ok I’m just going to shut up now but yeah I just really like you a lot ahahaha.”

Keith blinks. Something warm spreads in him like warm cacao on a cold winter day, satisfying and spreading heat all the way down to his toes. "Oh." "Oh?" Lance's echo is almost indignant in a way that sounds designed to hide hurt. "Oh?' That's all you have to say? I confessed my heart out to you, man, at least sound a little more impressed before you reject me-" Keith's cup lands on the table with enough force to stop Lance mid-tirade. "Oi," he says fiercely, panic and affection rampaging a whirlpool in the undertone. Rejection?! Nonono Lance is not going to pull that crap on him, not if he can help it, "Who said I was going to reject you, you beanpole?! I like you too!" It takes him a few seconds to realise what he said. The second he does, Keith’s face immediately lights up with the red of a blazing bonfire. He almost tries to take back his words, burning them into illegible ashes blown away by the wind, but Lance - his face is light up with every source of emotion; eyes gleaming like he doesn’t quite believe its reality, and so Keith slouches back into his chair and turns his head away instead, willing his blush to settle back down.

“Really?” Lance finally asks, as if he’s not quite sure that what Keith said is true. A quick glance out of the corner of Keith’s eyes reveals a fragile unsure happiness, glass that’s halfway cracked. “Do you mean you like me as a friend, or that you - you love me?”

“I-I.” Keith takes a gulp of his drink for fortitude, scarf gripped in his fingers like it’s a rock of stability. This is not how he imagined his love confession to play out, but Keith is perfectly willing to do this if it means Lance will believe that his crush is reciprocated. “I. I like you. Ok?” He shoots the words out like bullets, aggressive and unstopping despite the embarrassment flushing his entire face red. “I love your laughter, the way your hands move when you’re talking, how excited you get when you come across the latest game and how you talk to people so easily.” Keith smile is gentle, his heart finally free as he pours all the emotions that he’s bottled out into words. “I’ve liked you ever since you gave me a concussion during open house. I love you, Lance, and if it’s ok with you, I want to spend the rest of our days together.”

Silence. Keith’s entire body is on fire, static crackling restlessly through his bones, but he waits. Lance is looking at him like he’s never seen him before, mouth agape, eyes wide like Keith is stardust shining in space, and Keith wants to shrink away from that gaze but instead he stands tall and meets it with a look of his own, honest and full of the love he feels.

Lance’s smile is radiant, burning bright, blinding light that outshines the sun. “Can I kiss you?”

Keith’s reply is immediate and heartfelt. “Oh god yes.” The words are barely out of Keith’s mouth before Lance is leaning over the table. Lance’s lips feels soft, smooth with what feels like lip balm, and even though the kiss is short and chaste it sparks what can only be called an electrical outage of emotions in Keith’s mind; heat radiating contentedly from the whirlpool of love in his heart as he commits it to memory.

They’ve just barely pulled away when they hear a familiar click. Keith almost gets whiplash from his fast his head turns - Matt is beaming like a monkey with his phone out in front of him. “Pidge and Hunk are going to be so pleased,” He cackles gleefully.

“Matt!” Keith’s about to lunge for the phone when Lance laughs, while and heartfelt.

“Let him,” Lance says happily, and Keith’s heart skips a beat as Lance’s hand clasps his own, fingers intertwining. “They can’t handle the amount of love that we have, they’re gonna regret how lovey-dovey we can get!”

Shiro wipes an imaginary tear from his eye. “Ah, they grow up so fast,” he says mockingly, but he’s beaming like a proud parent, and his next words are sincere. “Congratulations, Keith, Lance.”

“Shiro.” Keith looks away, cheeks tinted red, but he grins and lifts Lance’s hand in his own like they’re champions. “You’re right, Lance,” Keith’s grin is almost devilish. “Let’s make them regret ever asking for photos.”

With his friends supporting him, Lance by his side, beaming and happy and love reciprocated, there is nothing that can bring Keith down.

(Naturally, the pictures are deleted after the congratulations and betting money have been passed around, but Keith keeps two - a picture of him and Lance holding hands, beaming their love at each other, and the picture of Keith surprise kissing Lance on the cheek in his phone.)

[thepositivescientist]

Elly’s Confession

Long D/iscord RP with Swap and Elly from @hiddeninshxdows 

( Please forgive bad writing. ((Mostly on my part)) We wrote this at like 3 am over several nights xP )

Setting: Surface world, Swap visits frequently under the disguise of a human named Simon. 

Reason: Swap promised that if Elly didn’t say anything self depreciating for a month he’d take her out to eat as a friendly hangout. 

Swap

Swap stepped through a portal, leading Elly behind him. He nearly trips as the slight drop but catches himself. He's wearing a blue sweater vest on top of a dress shirt, gloves, dresspants, and dress shoes. He has his human disguise up, cocoa skin, blue eyes, and short, dark brown hair. They stepped into an alleyway, the sky above is nearing sunset. Outside of the alleyway a sidewalk is seen, people walking around, music playing in the distance as the usual nightlife starts to become active.

Elly

Elly quickly opened her umbrella, even if it was sunset she still needed to protect her face from the sunlight. She had a nice little jacket with red undershirt some jeans, boots and gloves with her hair tied up in the ponytail, she even put on her glasses so she could read properly. she looked around amazed at everything and all the humans "W-wow...this is t-the surface?....its...its...AMAZING!!"

Swap

He nodded, grinning brightly. He loved seeing monster's reactions to the surface. "i know right? wait until you see the stars!" He led her out of the alley and onto the sidewalk. He glanced around to get his bearings and huffed a bit. "portal sent us to the wrong place. the restaurant is over here." He led her in the up the sidewalk. Along the sidewalk on this side of the road was a cinema, a few shops, a bar, ect. It seemed like a fairly nice downtownish area. There was also a lovely coffee shop on the corner, it had a little outside area with colorful umbrellas to sit under and enjoy a drink. Swap gave it a glance and a smile before moving on. Just across the street passed the coffeeshop was a diner. The sign read Rose's Diner. It also had a little outside area. Swap stopped in front and gestured to it proudly. "here we are! they have great burgers and they also serve breakfast all day! my favorite thing though is that they make sweets here with no sugar! apparently the daughter of the person who runs the place can't have sugar just like me! so they started making sugar free things." Through the disguise you couldn't see, but from his excitement it was obvious his eye lights were little stars.

Elly

She was so amazed by everything, gladly letting him lead her as they walked to the diner, she had never seen such liveliness, such color, she wished she brought her sketch book, so instead she just took a couple pictures with her phone. when they reached the diner she was surprised that they served sugar free things, but she was happy that he like s this place "W-well then, lets go i-inside and order some f-food!" she grabbed his hand and started walking inside practically vibrating with excitement at the new surroundings. she was very quietly making odd noises that sounded close to purring but not quite

Swap

Swap let himself get dragged along. Nearly laughing at her excitement. The inside of the diner was wood floored with rose wallpaper. It gave off a homey feeling. It had both booths and tables as well as a door leading out to the outside. A friendly woman greeted them. "Simon! You're looking nice today. I see you've brought a friend! Where'd you like to sit this time? Outside again?" Swap nodded before pausing and turning to Elly. "is that okay with you?"

Elly

She was admiring the inside almost not hearing them. She turned to swap and nodded "s-sure. I like the o-outdoors" she let go of his hand slightly embarrassed she held onto it so long "l-lead the w-way!" She said cheerfully. Masking her worry about the end of this hangout

Swap

He gave a comforting smile to Elly. He was worried that he might be overwhelming her with everything. It took him a while to get use to this stuff too. He turned back to face the woman that greeted them who grabbed two menus and gestured for them to follow before walking out to the outside area and putting the menus on a table. It was in a nice spot kinda in the corner. It had a umbrella that was brightly colored and cast shade over the table. The placement of the table allowed a great view of the rest of the tables and the street. A great place if you liked people watching. "This work?" The woman asked. To which Swap enthusiastically nodded. This was his favorite spot when he normally came here. "I'll be back in a few minutes to take your order!" And with that she walked off. Swap gestured for Elly to pick the seat she wanted. There were only two but he thought she might prefer one over the other.

Elly

She smiled back at him before following the lady, she did feel slightly overwhelmed with everything but she was trying her best to just take all this in. She saw the nice umbrella and seating, liking the spot already because of the shade.  She sat down in one of the seats and looked around. she was so happy that she didn't notice her ears started wiggling in joy as she excitedly stared around at all the people "W-wow look at a-all those people!"

Swap

He sat across from her, beaming proudly.  "i know right?! i love watching humans! reading books on them is okay but watching them in their day to day lives is soooo much more interesting! there are so many different humans! and none of them look the same! and the more i learn the more i realize how alike they are to monsters!" He paused as he noticed her ears wiggling. "oh my gosh that's adorable! how are you doing that?"

Elly

"I w-wish i could o-observe them more, i-it seems like fun!" her ears wiggled  little more intensely before turning her head to him with a confused face "D-doing what...?" she then realized her ears are wiggling, she slaps her hands over her ears to stop them from wiggling, her face flushing gray "g-gosh sorry, my e-ears do that when i-im happy, i-its weird i know" she felt really embarrassed now because it was a stupid quirk her ears did

Swap

He chuckled. "don't be embarrassed, it's charming! i'm glad you're happy!" He paused and looked thoughtful. "i've...never seen you do that before. never really seen you this happy before either." He smiled again. "guess i'll have to take you here more often!" He froze up for a moment before quickly reaching over, opening her menu, and half shoving it in her face. He spoke in hushed tone. "h-humans don't turn grey! gotta blend in!" He cleared his throat and spoke up a bit louder. "l-look at this! they have everything here! how awesome is that?" No one seemed to notice any of this and it looked rather ridiculous. Especially with him leaning across the table like that.

Elly

she smiled a little hearing he'll take her here more often, then squeaked at the menu being pushed into her face, mentally facepalming that she let herself blush. she took the menu from his hands whispering a 'sorry' before adjusting her glasses so she can read the menu "W-wow your right t-they do have e-everything!" she hid her face in the menu waiting for her blush to calm down before moving the menu out of her face "T-there's so much i c-can't decide..." she leaned on her hand taking off her glasses and setting it on top of her head to contemplate the options in deep thought, then eventually she spaces out, staring at the sun set forgetting what she was doing

Swap

He sighed. Gosh he wished that they didn't have to hide that they were monsters. She kinda looked cute in grey. Oh well. He leaned back and picked up his own menu. Although he already knew what he was getting. After a bit of time looking at it he put it down to talk with Elly but paused when he saw her expression. He looked were she was looking and his smile got brighter. "it's beautiful isn't it? one of my favorite things about the surface." He sighed in an almost lovestruck fashion and leaned on his hand as he stared out at it. He wished that he could share this sight with everyone.

Elly

she snapped out of her thoughts when he spoke up, getting slightly startled but regaining her composure "i-it is pretty, e-even if it stings my s-skin a l-little" she turned to look at him and saw his face, she leaned on her hands looking at him with a lovestruck face, admiring him a bit before snapping herself out of it and looking back down at her menu "S-so what are y-you gonna get? i c-can't decide so i-i'll get the same as y-you" she focused on her menu while trying to ignore the voices in her head

Swap

He finally snapped out of it and tore his gaze away from the sunset when she asked him what he was going to get. "h-huh? oh uh, they have these really great pancakes. they have peanutbutter and chocolate on them! all sugar free of course." He paused and looked her over for a second. "are...are you okay? you're stuttering. is this too overwhelming? is the sun burning you?" He hoped he hadn't done something wrong. "...i'm sorry for shoving the menu in your face. did you get a papercut?"

Elly

She shook her head "S-swap i a-always stutter, i am getting b-better at english but its h-hard sometimes. and although y-yes the sun does burn me a l-little its not overwhelming, a-and no i didn't get a paper cut....i-i guess i’m just mostly nervous a-about the end of this because of w-what i need to tell you" she chuckles nervously, closing the menu and putting it down and clearing her throat "see? i can also not stutter, its just harder and takes me longer to do"

Swap

"w-well...yeah you stutter a lot but you were stuttering differently." He sighed. "guess i'm just a little worried. i want you to have a great time. you've worked so hard for this." He smiled a bit. "you've got me curious now. but there's really no need to be nervous. i'm sure it's gonna be fine." He reached over and took her menu, stacking it on top of his own to it would be easier to hand to the waitress when she came back.

Elly

"I-i was?" she always thought she stuttered how she usually did "...o-oh! my stutters probably s-seem weird because im not t-talking in third person a-anymore" she let him take her menu, she leaned on her hands smiling a little "I-ive got plenty reason t-to be nervous, mostly t-the voices are making me more n-nervous but im trying my best s-since im having a wonderful time. w-while also trying to keep myself c-calm from the sheer amount of p-people"

Swap

"o-oh dear! are there too many people? i'm sorry. probably should have thought of that." He paused again. "wait...voices?" She heard voices? Well that was a very Elly thing.

Elly

"D-dont worry its fine! i-im not in a room so i-im okay." she twiddled her thumbs "Y-yes voices, they showed u-up after my first crush...well a-attacked me, they torment my m-mind by voicing my deepest inner t-thoughts, my worries, and making m-me feel horrible and worthless a l-lot, most of the time i ignore t-them but sometimes its h-hard when they are really intense like r-right now"

Swap

He looked worried. "oh gosh...i'm so sorry you have to deal with that." He reached over and put his hand over her's. "is there some way i can help? distract you somehow from them or something?"

Elly

her cheeks dusted a little gray, hardly noticeable if anyone glanced over "T-they are hard to ignore but, just b-being here with you is enough" she turns her hand around to gently hold his

Swap

He managed a smile, still a little worried about her. "i'm glad i can help. you're a good friend and i'd hate for you to be sad." The waitress started to come back and he withdrew his hand to straighten the menus, handing them to her when she finally got there. "two of the usual, please!" She pulled out her notepad and wrote it down. "Okay! I'll have that out in a bit!" And just like that she walked off. "that's amy. she's super nice. she's the daughter that i talked about that can't have sugar."

Elly

She looked at amy as she walked off "Wow she's pretty." she slipped her glasses back on her face. "But not as pretty or good looking as you" she finger guns him with a big smirk on her face as she wiggles her eyebrows at him, hoping to make him at least a little flustered

Swap

"yeah she is pretty-" He paused and stared blankly for a moment before a light blush showed up. His magic automatically made his human disguise alter to turn very pink. "e-elly! i-i'm not- i-" he huffed a bit as the blush got worse. His expression softened as he straightened his sweatervest and refused to look at her. "...a-am i pretty?"

Elly

she chuckles at how flustered he's being, she takes a quick secret picture of this then moves her chair so she's sitting next to him. so she can grab his chin to make him look at her "Y-your the prettiest a-and i mean that" she lets go of his chin and blows a kiss at him before moving her chair back to its original spot to just smile at him

Swap

When she took his chin he was surprised and at her words his blush skyrocketed. He made a choked squeak and covered his face. "n-no one h-has ever c-called me p-pretty before." Unless they were joking or being sarcastic. His illusion shifted a little. Looking like a wave of tv fuzz went through it. He was so embarrassed that he almost lost concentration.

Elly

"W-well its true, your really pretty, a-and amazing, and just overall wonderful. i-im surprised no one has told you t-that yet because every. word. is. true." she leaned on her hand, letting the other flop on the table, thinking she should stop flustering him before he ends up revealing he's a skeleton

Swap

His face was totally red at this point and his illusion flickered a few more times. He wanted to deny it but that would be a little hypocritical. He whined a bit instead. "w-well y-you're p-pretty and amazing too."

Elly

"i-im glad you think so, i may not think h-highly of myself, and although i usually d-deny it it does make me a little happy to h-hear you say that about me" she chuckles and leans on both hands staring at him with a look of fondness on her face

Swap

He focused on calming himself down. Taking deep breaths. Slowly his blush started to fade but not all the way. He finally uncovered his face, but didn't look at her. Focusing on straightening his sweatervest instead.  "y-you just l-love flustering me don't ya?"

Elly

her smile widens seeing him uncover his face, seeing the little bit of blush still leftover "a-although yes i do love doing it, today i-im being one hundred percent serious. y-you being flustered is just a bonus" she kept staring seeing he didn't look at her "w-why are you looking away?  i know there's n-nothing wrong with my face right now, a-and i know you don't like me romantically so t-there's no reason for you to look away"

Swap

His blush got worse. "h-huh? u-uh i-i'm just- i-i um...genuine c-complements- i- uh..." He nervously straightened his bow tie. "i-i'm not use to them a-at all. i-i f-feel all f-fuzzy a-and i just-" He gestured vaguely still not looking at her directly. "y-you know? i-i just don't know what t-to do!"

Elly

She laughs a little "W-well ive always complemented y-you genuinely. ive never once jokingly, o-or sarcastically complemented you. and y-you should get used to it since n-now you know im always genuine" she looked away for a minuet, glancing around to see if a waitress is nearby with their order. "though i-ive never heard someone say t-they feel all fuzzy from complements"

Swap

He whined and rubbed his face as if that would help get rid of his blush. "w-well yeah b-but y-you never said them l-like that a-and i just thought you were b-being polite o-or- i dunno...m-maybe it's just me...i-i feel like a different person when i'm on the surface." The waitress could be seen taking orders to people. It looks like it wouldn't be long before the food came.

Elly

"W-well your not a different p-person, your still the same, pretty, wonderful guy ive known for....hmm about a year now?" she didnt quite remember but she was happy she's known him that long "Your the first person to really get to know the me under my mask . you make me feel safe, heck my eye still turns off whenever im around you even though you don't even have total trust anymore" she actually took out a sticker from her jean pocket, and sides it over to him, it was her trust sticker but it had a whopping 65% on it

Swap

He looked at the sticker with surprise, his blush not subsiding. He looked up at her with the same surprise. "r-really?" He hesitantly picked up the sticker and smiled at it. After a moment looking up at her with the same smile. "th-thank you for trusting me!"

Elly

she smiled back tucking the large clump of hair that usually covers her eye behind her ear, its now visible that she took off her stitches today, and her eye was totally normal "Im still used to seeing only out of one eye but this is fine too" she felt weird not having her eye covered but she felt safe

Swap

He beamed even brighter seeing that her eye was normal. "i'm sure you'll get use to it." He put the sticker in his pocket for safekeeping. "it's nice to see both of your eyes."

Elly

"I-its weird though. I l-look strange with it not c-covered" her stomach growled quite loudly "I....h-haven't eaten anything a-all day"

Swap

He was worried again. "elly you need to take better care of yourself!" He sighed. "i'm sure the food with be here soon." As soon as he said that the waitress came from the door to the inside carrying two normal sized plates and two smaller ones. She trotted over balancing everything with practiced ease. Setting the bigger plates in front of them, they had a stack of delicious looking pancakes covered in peanut butter and chocolate syrup. She set down the smaller plates as well. They each had a small slice of what looked like strawberry cake. "Mom's trying a new recipe. She's not sure if she should add it to the menu so I thought you could try it and tell me how it is! I personally love it but the customers are  the deciding vote. Anyways, enjoy!" And with that she turned around and went back inside.

Elly

"i k-know i know im trying, b-but i tend to forget and when i r-run out of money its required i d-don't eat" she smiled at the pancakes and picked up her fork starting to dig in, already loving it, and using all her willpower not to eat how she normally does since it wouldn't be very 'human' if she did. "So good~!" she started gobbling it down, licking any chocolate and penutbutter around her mouth "gosh if you treat me out to food like this more often im gonna have to marry you just to lock you down" she says totally joking as she stuffed more into her mouth

Swap

He laughed a bit at that. "well, i'd like to take you out more often. especially if you can't afford food. you know you can always ask for help, right? it's no bother." He took a bite of the cake and his face lit up. "oh my gosh this is amazing! i hope they add this to the menu." He shoved the rest of the small slice in his mouth, swallowing it in one big bite.

Elly

"Of c-course, i'll be sure to r-rely on you more" she finished off her pancakes and nearly choked seeing him shove it in his mouth swallowing in one bite. she decided to try the cake too "y-your right it i-is good!" she scarfed down the cake totally satisfied "T-this really was worth n-not being self depreciating for a m-month, even more so b-because i get to spend some nice t-time with you when we aren't just using e-each other to sleep"

Swap

"well, it's not really using. it's helping eachother out! i get nightmares and you eat nightmares! and you can only get good rest when you're in a dream so you can hang out in mine! it is nicer hanging out with you when i'm awake though." He started cutting up his pancakes into perhaps a little too big of pieces. "we should hang out more often! maybe make it a bi-monthly thing. if you can go two weeks without being self depreciating then we go out to eat!"

Elly

"I s-should cut back on it t-though, the nightmares are k-kind of fuel for my magic. a-and if i eat too much i end up w-with a 50/50 chance of either getting h-horribly sick or just...horrible" she shudders thinking about it "T-two weeks...I think i can do t-that, not often but i can t-try sometimes so we can do this m-more" she tries to poke for more pancakes but realizing she ate it all "o-oh, i guess i a-ate it all" she just set her fork down doing deep in thought, a serious look taking over the more joyful one

Swap

"what's important is you being healthy! i don't want you to overdo the nightmare eating if it's gonna make you sick. and i'm sure you can resist being self depreciating. you managed this far!" He shoved a big bite of pancake in his mouth. He was practically glowing with joy. Gosh he loved pancakes. He seemed oblivious to her expression, too busy with his food. "by how fast you ate them i'd say you enjoyed it!"

Elly

she didn't respond, she was so deep in her thoughts she almost forgot she was even anywhere. its almost as if she lagged since it took her quite a long  while before she responds "I d-did like them, t-they were very tasty, and i-ill try to be h-healthy..." she contemplates a question in her mind before voicing it "H-hey swap, after this c-can we go for a walk s-someplace with less people?" although she enjoyed the liveliness she prefers a more peaceful quiet more

Swap

Swap paused mid bite when she finally spoke up. He's devoured half his plate already. "uh, sure! there's this park a few blocks away that's nice. i was actually planning on taking you there for viewing the stars." The sun was almost down by now, reds and oranges fading into pinks and purples.

Elly

"Wonderful!" she's been wanting to see stars so badly ever since she looked at the lid of her music box her mom gave her "Im quite excited to see the stars, since the closest ive seen to a star is what your necklace is made out of." she started playing with one of her earrings a bit feeling increasingly nervous and very excited, her ears started wiggling, feeling so happy

Swap

He smiled brightly. "i love that necklace! i'm actually wearing it!" He sat down his fork and reached down his shirt collar to pull out the crystal necklace. "i'd wear it out in the open but it doesn't fit my outfit and my bowtie gets in the way." He carefully tucked it back under his collar. "i'm sure you'll love them!" He went back to eating his food. Rushing it even more than normal so they could get to the park before sundown

Elly

Her ears wiggled intensely that she felt her ears hitting her head with the wiggling "I-i'm happy you wear it, i w-worked on it for...about a month or so g-getting the shape right" she snorted seeing him eating really fast "Woooaaahh s-slow down or your gonna m-make a mess all over your f-face" the thought of chocolate sauce and penutbutter on his face did make her laugh

Swap

He paused in his eating, a slight blush appearing. "i-i uh, already have. i'm just hiding it with illusions." He picked up a napkin and wiped his face . Despite the illusion making it look clean, the napkin came back as a mess of peanutbutter and chocolate. "i um...i'm a really messy eater." He looked a little sheepish as he started eating again, this time taking 'small' bites and slowing down a bit.

Elly

she laughs seeing the really messy napkin "D-don't worry im also a messy e-eater sometimes" she just tried her best to not be one today since she doesn't have illusions "y-you can take your time e-eating since we have plenty o-of time up here"

Swap

"i know i know i just wanna make sure we get there before the stars come out!" He swallowed a bite. "it gets really really dark. they actually shut off a good amount of light around the park area so the stars are more visible. it has something to do with an age old tradition or something. this place is weird like that but it does make it nice." He shoved another rather large bite in his mouth. "something to do with, ironically enough, ancient human wizards. the kind that sealed monsters underground. they say that one of them is buried in that park. which is why after all these years they haven't touched that plot of land. it's actually a very large section too. anyways, they said that this wizard could bring stars down from the sky! and some people even said they've seen their ghost! it's all folktale but it's interesting that it's stuck around so long. the reason they turn the lights off is because they say their sprite wants to see the stars."

Elly

"W-wow ghosts....i wonder i-if anyone got murdered in that park b-because if its that dark then it would be so easy t-to do it, like some horror movie" she laughs a little evilly thinking about it "B-but i like the little folktale its n-nice. i don't get to hear many tales b-besides the one of how my mom and dad m-met. they both met each other during the heat o-of battle, my mom protected my dad since he wasn't a f-fighter and after that he was infatuated with her s-strength and bravery that he started giving her f-flowers and gifts. and they got married at t-their favorite spot, just before they got sealed i-in, and they've been together s-since. its wonderfully sweet how long they've b-been together”

Swap

He smiled brightly. "that's so romantic! my parents met when they were kids. they grew up together! but then my mom left snowdin and moved to new home where she worked on the blueprints and oversaw the construction of the core. they kinda drifted apart for a long while. dad wasn't the riverman yet because his dad was still alive. so he was focusing on writing romance novels. eventually mom came back and they both found themselves head over heels for eachother again and started to officially date. dad can't talk without stuttering and messing up a lot. it's some kinda disability. so when he proposed to my mom he used the old echo flower tea trick! recording the message and then sealing it in the flower with heat and making tea with the flower. even though i can talk perfectly fine, i'd like to do that when i propose. mostly because i feel like i'd get so nervous i'd mess up." He looked a little dazed out. "i was born soon after that. a little over a week after they were married. they got into a rush and didn't check to make sure they had enough magic...dad says it caused a lot of stress for them. they we so worried that i wouldn't make it..." He smiled a bit. "but i did. and when i was in the clear everyone had a big party. too bad i was too young to remember it. he says that mom didn't leave my side for a month. she was always fretting about her little son. but even if i was born with a weak soul she insisted that i was meant for greatness. to follow in her footsteps and become the scientist that set all of monsterkind free!" He seemed to be glowing with pride at this. A moment later it all faded and he looked a little downcast. "guess she couldn't be right all the time."

Elly

She reached over the table and put her hand on him of his after hearing this story "You may n-not be a scientist, but i believe y-you're still meant for greatness. i m-mean my mom thought i was gonna be like h-her and be a strong fighter in an a-army and find my own Pesu, but i take after m-my dad so violence isn't for me" she still had to endure training but it just made her stronger so she can protect anyone she cares about "I d-do hope to find someone for myself b-but because of my trust issues it m-makes it very hard for me. and with all my problems s-some people don't wanna deal with i-it" she took her hand off his "A-anyway did you finish u-up your food?"

Swap

He smiled a bit at her words. He was sad that he'd given up on being a royal scientist. But he did hope he could do something great. He took a deep breath and smiled brighter. "yeah. i'm done. oh, and elly, i'm sure you'll find someone. good things come to those who wait. you'll find the perfect person soon enough." He wiped off his face again, making sure that it was clean, even if the illusion hid it. "i'm gonna go pay. be right back!" He stood up, brushed himself off and walked off back inside the building to pay.

Elly

"Okay!" she smiled as he left into the building, she then flopped her head on the table groaning a little as soon as he left into the building "G-god damn he's so c-cute, hold yourself together Elly....j-just be patient..." she was mentally practicing her confession and trying to calm herself. taking deep breaths "O-okay calm yourself, a-and resist confessing too e-early..." she knows she's gonna have a hard time doing that, she had a hard time just not kissing him right then and there with how cute he was being

Swap

Swap trotted back out after a few minutes, he was grinning brightly. "good news! i talked to amy and her mom and they're adding that cake to the menu!" He was as giddy as a child on Christmas. "oh! and i paid so we're good to go!" He offered her a hand. "it's a bit of a walk to get to the perfect viewing spot so we should get a move on."

Elly

she bolted her head up from flopped on the table when she heard him. she smiled hearing the cake would be on the menu "Wonderful! i-im glad its being added!" she gets up from her seat and picks back up her umbrella she set aside before putting her hand in his "O-okay lets go!" she was excited to get to this viewing spot

Swap

He led her off, back through the inside of the restaurant, waving at Amy before heading out back on the sidewalk. He glanced around before leading her in the quickest way he knew to the park. It was a few minutes of fast walking and twists and turns before they got to the grassy area. The sun was just falling below the horizon. As soon as they were on the grass he scooped her up and dashed at full speed. The area was quite large as he'd said. At least a few miles wide. 'Park' was an understatement. It was largely forested with a few large clearings and paths leading to different parts. The whole area seemed very out of place next to the city area. He didn't waste time to dash through the forest, ignoring the neat paths to take a shortcut. The whole area was on a gradual slope up and when they finally left the trees they found a clearing on top of a hill. The top had a few benches and a path up it if you took the normal path instead of just dashing through the unmarked forested area. "here we are!" He carefully set her down on a bench and sat next to her. Just their luck that it seemed no one else was around. The sun had just gone down and the very very last specks of purple turned into dark blue of the night sky. Despite being near the city lights and light pollution, it seemed that the stars were bright as ever. Swap was still grinning, a few happy sparks of magic popping without him noticing as he pointed up. "just in time!"

Elly

She followed gladly as he lead her to the park. then squeaked loudly as she was scooped up, she clung to him tightly as he bolted at full speed though the park to the spot. she had a bit of lag from the intense speed, when she finally realized what was going on she saw the stars, her eyes widened and sparkled. she was so amazed and happy that she didn't notice her magic reacting to it, causing any shadows within 20 feet of them swirling upwards almost weightlessly "Woah..."

Swap

He was overjoyed at her reaction. Glad that he could make this dream come true. He gave a glance to the shadows, freaking out for only a spilt second before he decided it was probably like his sparks. He looked up at the stars instead. "aren't they beautiful? when i first saw them i stayed up all night just to look a them. finding constellations that i'd only read about and recalling the stories behind them..." Be sighed happily. He loved the stars so much. He was glad she loved them too

Elly

her eyes trailed off to look at him, her grip on her umbrella tightened trying to resist as much as she can but she couldn't "Swap i....i just c-can't take it anymore!! i c-can't keep hiding it from you!" she drops her umbrella and grabs both his hands "SWAP I LOVE YOU!! a-and not like a friend, im IN l-love with you and i h-have been for a long time. it j-just intensified ever since you looked i-in my repression box just...UGH i l-love you so much!....but i know y-you don't like me back, you always get c-crushes on girls and i try to be supportive b-but it kills me a little inside pretending i d-don't love you just....you don't have to g-give me an answer because i know you'll r-reject me." she kisses his cheek and lets go of his hands running off in a random direction, mentally scolding herself for blurting it out like that. the voices yelling at her how he won't wanna see her again

Swap

He turned to look at her when she spoke. When she took his hands he stared in confusion and shock. His illusion fell from how surprised he was and he didn't even process it fast enough to start blushing before she kissed his cheek and dashed off. He sat there for another few seconds before bolting after her. As soon as he caught up to her he hugged her from behind. "p-please don't run." He just held on tightly for a few moments as things started to set in. Very carefully he picked her and brought her back to the bench. Setting her back down like he had before. He crouched in front of her her took her hands in his own, looking up at her with bright eyelights and an even brighter blush. A soft, and little nervous smile in place.  "i-i had no idea you felt that way. look, i...i don't feel the same. but, i'm willing to give this a chance. m-maybe...we could go on a few dates? see how we get along? b-but no matter what happens i need you to promise me something." He took a deep breath. "regardless of if this works out or not, i'd like to still be your friend. can you promise that if we...if this doesn't work out, you'll still be willing to be my friend?"

Elly

she was nearly gonna cry as she ran, and almost attacked swap when he grabbed her, squirming a but but stilled when he asked her not to run. she let herself be carried back to the bench. her hair had flopped back over her other eye as she nervously stared him in the eyes, unable to look away from his bright eyelights. she was expecting the worst but her expression softened from being nervous to pure shock  "Y-you'll give me a c-chance..?" tears start forming in her eyes which she then tackled him into a hug clinging tightly "I-i promise even if it doesn't w-work i will still be your friend, i-im just so happy your b-bothering to give me a-a chance...e-even more so since t-the voices were telling m-me that i just ruined e-everything..."

Swap

He nearly falls over at the hug, hugging back after a moment. "it's okay elly. you haven't ruined anything." He sighed. "we've been friends for a while now so it's the least i could do. i dunno if i'll end up feeling anything or not but...it would be stupid of me not to at least try. after all, you'd make a wonderful girlfriend." He backed up a little to look her in the eye again. "just so you know, this doesn't mean that i'm your boyfriend, yet. this means we're two friends testing the waters to see if we could be something more. don't get your hopes up too much because i don't wanna hurt you if it doesn't end up how you expected." He smiled brighter. "besides that, i'm excited to see how this goes!" He pecked a kiss on her forehead.

Elly

"O-of course, i wont get my hopes u-up and we're not together, but i can h-have a little speck of hope that me m-might" her face flushed a very light gray at the forehead smooch "Im also e-excited....but um ive never b-been on a date before....ever. u-unless being left in the snow for h-hours while the other gets n-nicecream, leaving me without a j-jacket and comes back giving me h-half of one, because thats what m-my last crush did" she did not know how relationships properly worked. "s-so you'll have to plan the date...sorry im inexperienced...."

Swap

He cling tighter. "i promise i won't do that to you. and uh...a date is kinda like what we did today except um...you talk about more personal things? we kinda did that though...dates are for getting to know eachother better!" He looked a little sheepish. "uh..i'm not the best with dating either. most of the time me and my last girlfriend just hung out and occasionally had some really deep talks or spoke about how we wanted to get married and how many kids we'd have....been a while since i last dated." He sighed sadly before snapping back. Talking about his ex probably wasn't a good thing to do. "it's fine though! we'll figure it out together!"

Elly

"Y-yeah we will figure it out t-together" she wanted to pinch herself to make sure this isnt some dream , so she just instead nuzzled him a bit. "W-well i don't mind t-talking about stuff, im not exactly i-intresting but there is things you don't k-know about me" she slips from his arms and just lays on the ground patting the spot next to her "L-like you don't know that i c-can make music out of almost anything. l-like if i find something that i t-think can be used to make a b-beat i can do it"

Swap

He laid down next to her, snuggling up close.  "really? that's so cool!" He thought for a moment as he looked up at the stars. "i use to want to be an astronaut when i was a kid. said i'd be the first monster in space." He laughed a bit. "my mom told me as soon as we were on the surface she'd make sure that happened." He sighed. "i really miss her. i can't even say her name now...at least i don't think i can...i know i can't say it in my world because weird things happen...from what i understand, she's been erased from existence, the only link keeping her from being totally gone is me because i have her magic. to delete her would mean deleting me and i'm not...suppose to be forgotten? although if i try to say her name it...it's odd. it's like i lose a part of her. like, acknowledging her is forbidden." He paused for a moment and looked sheepish again. "s-sorry. that probably made no sense. erasing people, heh. this isn't a video game." He awkwardly tugged at his gloves. "it's hard to explain. she's alive but also not alive and everyone but me and my dad and brother have forgotten about her. and she lives in the void now? and she can sometimes watch what we do through one sided portals that show up. also she can talk to me in my dreams....i think i made that sound even more crazy."

Elly

she gently holds his hand "Y-you don't sound crazy at all. i h-have a grandmother, i knew her f-for a long  time until she d-died, and when we die its usually l-like we just, melt. vanish into j-just thick black mist. she was a w-wonderful person and was so kind and c-caring, but when she died my family stopped t-talking about her almost like she was f-forgotten." she chuckles a little sadly "I k-know she isn't but n-no one ever wants to talk a-about her, it makes me worry about w-what if mom or dad died, would everyone stop t-talking about them too? what if i d-died would everyone just forget m-my existence..." She squeezed his hand a little "I-its just stupid thoughts.  b-but yeah i don't think your crazy, i m-mean knowing about timelines and s-stuff was already crazy so anything is p-possible"

Swap

He glanced over and smiled at her. "thanks elly. ya know, i wouldn't forget you." He gave her hand a reassuring  squeeze. "makes me think of grandpa semi. he was my mom's dad. my dad wasn't around much so semi filled in whenever he could. he was the best. he taught me all sorts of things." He sighed. "when i was around 17 he passed away. it's okay though. he lived a long and happy life. fell in his sleep. it was painful losing him but that's just how life is. i'm thankful to have met him."

Elly

"Y-your grandpa sounds n-nice..." she scoots closer, leaning her head on his shoulder "I-its nice you got taught a l-lot, i got taught only how t-to bake, how to fight, and h-how to grow tea. i was never even t-taught how to see my soul, i only g-got to see it once and that was with my m-moms help when i was 6 to check a c-crack on it" she sighs deeply "ive b-been wanting to check it again s-since it was only about...i d-dunno this big?" she lifts up her free hand and shows her fingers which were almost touching "i-its probably nothing but i-its just something in the back o-of my mind i think about"

Swap

He looked worried. "oh gosh...that doesn't sound good. do you want me to check it? i know a thing or two about souls."

Elly

She sits up "Could you? it would be very helpful since i don't remember what my soul looked like"

Swap

He sits up as well, leaning back on his hands. "of course! maybe i can teach you how to summon it yourself too. not sure if it works the same but here's how i do it." He put a hand over where his soul would be. "i focus on my soul, it's the core of a monster's being so keep that in mind. try to sense where the most concentrated magic is. and then will it to show itself." He moved his hand and he soul showed itself, floating over his palm. Slightly smaller than it should be and glowing white with a barely blue tint. Two deep cracks visible, one looking more filled in and older and the other still looked fresh. "Like that."

Elly

she stared amazed "W-wow...your soul is v-very pretty!" she decides to try it herself, she does exactly as he instructed and she took out a normal sized soul, it had a very very slightly purple tint. and it looked a little clear with gray on the inside swirling around inside. it also had a crack that split out into multiple cracks, they weren't deep hairline cracks at the least, but it still was kinda big for hairline cracks, nearly reaching the top of her soul "H-huh, it got much bigger t-then before"

Swap

His eyesockets widened in surprise. "i've never seen anything like it!" His own vanished back into his chest. He looked it over. "those cracks aren't good at all. the cracks in mine are more precise but yours seems almost...infectious." He squinted at it for a long moment in deep thought. "you said you were...6 when the damage appeared? do you remember if it looked like this before? with all the smaller fractures?"

Elly

"N-no it didn't look like this at a-all. last time i saw it it was only t-this far up" she points to the very bottom, only a little bit upwards from the bottom "I d-dunno what could have c-caused it to grow bigger though." she shrugs as she examines the cracks

Swap

He squinted a bit harder at it before nodding as if coming to a decision. "i have one more question. did this crack show up around the time of your first crush attacking you?"

Elly

"Um yeah, thats when i started having some trust issues. we were still 'friends' but she got more brutal and since she knew everything about me she used that information against me to make me feel worthless" she had no idea how it was related "Are my cracks caused by that or something?"

Swap

He nodded again. "My cracks are caused by emotional damage. they are precise because they focus on one thing in particular. i believe yours are linked to that event and onwards! the cracks were small at first but as you continued to be abused, you became less and less trusting and that spiraled out into every aspect of yourself. your self worth, your trust in others, your trust in yourself, etc. the cracks mimicked this." He pointed to the starting crack. "i have reason to believe that this is where those voices are coming from as well. elly, you're literally being chipped away at by your fear. the less you trust the more the cracks grow. the more you hate yourself the more they grow. everything negative is stemming from your fear. and the only way to heal is to face your fear." He paused for a moment before adding. "of course soul study is still a very uh...vague science. so i could be off. but from my experience, if it follows the same logic then what i said should be accurate."

Elly

she put a hand to her chin thinking about his words before sighing "S-sounds pretty understandable, i...i a-am trying my best to t-trust people more but of c-course its hard, and so is trying my b-best to be less negative...i mean i honestly d-don't feel that right now, being n-near you kinda makes me forget about a-all my issues, and m-makes me happy." she puts away her soul and leans her head on his shoulder "t-the voices still of course a-are annoying and make me t-think bad things, b-but i can ignore them when i-im with you" her cheeks flushed "O-oops im getting m-mushy...sorry"

Swap

He chuckled a bit. "i'm glad i can help." He wraps an arm around her and kisses her forehead. "you can be mushy all you want! be yourself!" He paused for a moment and looked up. "oh yeah, i almost forgot why we came here in the first place."

Elly

Her cheeks went a lighter gray as she also looked up "O-oh right, i distracted u-us from it with m-my sudden confession." she can at least now fondly stare at the stars and think about what happened today "The stars are pretty, but of course they aren't as pretty as you" she kisses his cheek before turning her head away from him

Swap

His blush comes back, a bright blue. He still hadn't remembered to put his illusion back up. He sighed and tried to calm himself. "i could say the same about you." He said it casually. As if a passing thought as he stared into the sky and mentally traced out constellations.

Elly

she felt her cheeks go a somehow lighter gray before turning back, scooting so she's as close as she can to him, nuzzling his cheek "....d-do you actually mean t-that?....actually with h-how you said it you probably do m-mean it"

Swap

"hmm? yeah i mean it. i know a beautiful lady when i see one." He squinted at the sky for a moment before his eyes lit up. "oh yeah! i keep forgetting that it changes! no wonder they weren't in the same places. you'd think i'd remember that but time and time again i keep forgetting. i guess that's what happens when you're use to living in a world where things don't change."

Elly

"....I-i'm gonna take a wild g-guess and assume your talking about c-constellations." she took his hand in hers and started absentmindedly playing with his hand, She yawns long, her tongue flopping out almost like a cat yawn. she was mostly emotionally tired from today but also physically "Today has been wonderful. it went the complete opposite of how i was expecting it"

Swap

He glanced over at her when she yawned, chuckling a bit at how funny she looked. "what? did you expect me to go crazy and throw you off a bridge?" He paused for a moment before adding. "uh...don't answer that." He looked up at the stars for another few moments before speaking again. "you seem tired. you ready to go home, dreamcatcher? you can come to my place if you're feeling up to eating some nightmares and you can hang out in my dreams so you get some good rest. seems like a good night's sleep would be a perfect way to wrap up the day."

Elly

she was totally gonna say yes to his guess but of course he added on to it so she kept silent. she thought about it for a bit "Y-yeah hanging out in your dream s-sounds nice, mostly since i felt oddly kinda d-drained as soon as i saw the s-stars" she had no idea her magic was reacting to her joy "A-and hopefully i get a goodnight k-kiss~" she points to her mouth before laughing a bit "Kidding, kidding. just teasing you a bit"

Swap

He stared at her for a moment before finally speaking. "you want one? um...i can give you a kiss if you want. might as well." He shrugged as if it was no big deal.

Elly

her face turned near white "u-u-uh i-i me-mean o-of c-course i-i wa-w-want o-one...." she was trying not to stutter but she couldn't help it with how flushed her face is, she tried using the bit of her hair thats flopped to cover as much of her face as she can "b-bu-but y-you d-do-don't h-have t-to i-if y-you d-dont wa-w-want t-to"

Swap

He looked thoughtful for a moment before shrugging. "i'm okay with it." He carefully brushed her hair out of her face. "you sure though? you're not gonna faint if i do, are you?"

Elly

she let him move the hair out of her face and took a deep breath lightly slapping her cheeks to make her blush calm to just a dark gray "I-i won't, i can s-stay awake if i-im aware im g-gonna be kissed"

Swap

He smiled softly. "okay then, dreamcatcher. you ready now?"

Elly

She nods trying to keep herself confident "Y-yes i am Star prince"

Swap

He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth. "there ya go, a goodnight kiss!"

Elly

She squeaked and her soul fluttered, her face turned almost solid white as she buried her face in her knees, her ears wiggled a ton as the tips were even near white. she never felt happier then by his side

Swap

He looked surprised at her reaction, staring for a moment before bursting into laughter. "o-oh my gosh! i-i didn't think you'd get that flustered! it was just a little kiss!" He tried to stifle his laughter. " are y-you okay?"

Elly

"i-im f-fine! i-im s-still n-new t-to k-kissing s-since i-ive on-only b-been ki-k-kissed o-once.....a-and t-t-that ki-kiss h-hurt" she felt a little disappointed in herself that she's only ever kissed once. it took her a little bit to calm down, her blush going from near solid white to just a light gray "S-swap really just... thank you a-again for giving me a chance, the voices a-are quite enthusiastically saying its a p-pointless effort since you'll never like m-me back, but im just happy at getting even a s-small chance to at least try to win your h-heart"

Swap

He smiled softly at her. "it's the least i could do. i hope this turns out okay, no matter the outcome." He pulled her into a hug. "and no matter what, i'll still be here for you. as a friend, or something more." He backed up from the hug a bit. "you ready to go get some rest?"

Elly

"Im p-positive it'll turn out o-okay, even if i don't w-win your heart ill s-still win your friendship b-because your stuck with me s-star prince" she nodded and tried standing up, her legs kinda fell asleep so she wobbled and grabbed onto the bench "...sometimes i-i forget i have l-legs."

Swap

He chuckled. "here, let me help." He carefully picked her up. "ready to go?"

Elly

She wrapped her arms around his neck just in case, making sure her umbrella was in her hand when she was lifted up "Y-yup! lets go back to your place f-for cuddles and good d-dreams~!"

Swap

A portal appeared, through it was his dark room, lit barely by the many glowing stars on his walls. He glanced back at the real ones one last time before stepping through. He was looking forward to getting some good rest. And with that, the portal shut.

[nonoboymusic]

“Ama-Chan,” The Amache Pinup

(The Granada Pioneer, 4/1/44)

While there are photographs from the camps, a few home movies, memoirs, poetry, and oral histories, one of the best resources we have to help us better understand what life behind barbed wire was really like is the art. One of the best known artists from the camps is Estelle Ishigo, a white woman who went with her Japanese-American husband to Heart Mountain (and thus probably gets more attention than if she was Japanese-American herself). Ishigo’s sketches and paintings, much like Mine Okubo’s work, captures moments of daily life which do not show up in the photographic record. In many of her pieces, she draws scenes which show the every day doldrums, sadness, and non-activity of life in camp which was the reality for many people. 

Photographers, whether they were Japanese-Americans or outside government hires, were more interested in taking portraits, and capturing dramatic landscapes, action shots, or happy or industrious scenes. The feelings of dread, uncertainty, and boredom, which we know haunted these place don’t really appear, and so, our memory, especially without much testimony from the older folks in camp who had it the worst, shifts towards what the photographs show--people (mostly young) making the best of hard environments. 

A sketch pad is much less invasive than a pointed camera, and one can always draw from memory, so if we are to look for these dense, complicated scenes of melancholy, we need to look at Ishigo’s sketch of people milling about after they heard Hiroshima was obliterated by the bomb. Ishigo and Okubo’s sketches of mess hall lines, people milling about, bathroom scenes, these pictures, much like diary entries, or letters, are hugely important in recovering evidence of those hard to place emotions which were constantly mixing around the camps but do not show up in the photos which dominate the museums and presentations which define the legacy of the camps. Even the lauded Dorothea Lange photos don’t get at what these sketches do.

(April 29, 1942 — San Francisco, California. A young evacuee looks out the window of bus before it starts for Tanforan Assembly center. Evacuees will be transferred to War Relocation Authority centers for the duration. Lange.)

Lange captures some truly heartbreaking moments and powerful moments, but that’s precisely why they don’t do the same work as the simpler sketches. Her work aims for something bigger, something which arches over the shallow despairs and loose monotony appears in Okube and Ishigo’s drawings with their wavy, sometimes blurry lines reproducing a sense of the phantom, foggy bummer depression, which needs be meditated on the same way we should meditate on the grand injustice dramatically captured in Lange’s work. To me, the sketches remain more alive a little more because they are not so “realistic.” They can find those moments of  candid boredom or quotidian sadness. Lange was an outsider, a voyeur with good intentions and an obtuse sense of social justice. Her shots are professional shots which are striking, right away, but they do not work the same as simple glimpses drawn by people who lived the situation.

(Waiting In Lines, Mine Okubo)

(Family in A Barrack, Estelle Ishigo)

Like the art of Ishigo and Okube, cartoons printed in camp newspapers, remain powerful artifacts which allow us further insight into the incarceration. Though they use humor and fictional characters and serve a more entertaining purpose than paintings or sketches, these comics can tell us a lot about what was going on, and shed particular light on the lives and feelings of the Nisei. 

These comic strips appeared all over the camps. In Rowher, George Akimoto, who would go on to be a successful commercial artist, drew “Lil’ Dan’l” a Nisei boy in a coon skin cap who comically experienced camp through a series of misadventures. In the Minidoka Irrigator, Eddie Sato’s “Dokie” was always complaining about food, waking up late or trying to pull some kind of shenanigans to pass the time. Lil’ Neebo (Little Nisei Boy), created by Chris Ishii at the Santa Anita Assembly Center and carried on by Jack Ito, when Ishii went into the service, appeared weekly in the Granada Pioneer, engaging in similar hijinks as Lil’ Dan’l and providing escape and levity for his readers at Amache. 

(”Artist Jack Ito working on a design,” ca. 1943-1945, Namura collection. Courtesy of the Amache Preservation Society)

(Lil’ Neebo, 4/24/43)

The Granada Pioneer, featured several comics besides “Lil’ Neebo,” including the cleverly titled “Lil’ Eva-Cuee” by Rosie Arima, which took over for Neebo when Jack Ito left camp to serve. But to me, going through these papers, the character I found myself most interested in was “Ama-Chan,” drawn by Esther Takei, during her relatively brief incarceration. 

Ama-Chan, who only in single panels as oppose to full strips, was only published seven times. She is a young woman who is often featured in overtly sexual poses, like a pinup girl. Ama-Chan is much older than “Lil Neebo” and the other “Lil’” characters which appear in these papers, thus allowing for more sophisticated, or at least, more adult content, to be touched upon, subjects such as popular music, intergenerational relationships, and dating. 

The “Real Banana” cartoon at the top of this post is the most risque of the series. Published on April 1st, 1944, this provocative cartoon, buried at the end of the paper, introduced Ama-Chan to the readers of the Granada Pioneer. In the cartoon, we find Ama-Chan sitting on the ground in a daze, moments after she has slipped on a banana peel placed on the ground as an April Fools prank. But, even in the more “naive” times of the 40s, there were obviously more layers to the joke. 

The position of her legs and the placement of the empty banana peel say a lot. “Oh!” she exclaims, surprised, eyes wide, mouth agape. For any reader beyond adolescence, the sexual overtones would have been palpable. It’s not hard to imagine some young men (and old men... and perhaps young and old women, too) wondering to themselves, “where’d the banana go?”-- I know, this is obviously reading a lot into this, and probably not what the seemingly well behaved and high achieving 18 year old female artist intended, but having spoken to several men who were boys in the camp, and having a pretty firm grasp on the youth culture of these camps, there is no doubt in my mind that, like boys today, crude and perverted behavior and language was found in camp.

But there’s something else the banana does in this comic which is both more interesting and less obvious. The term “real banana” being spoken by an Asian-American character holds a lot of weight, especially for people like myself, an Asian kid who grew up in Nashville. I’m not sure when the term “banana” became a slur for east Asians who grew up in the west (yellow on the outside, white on the inside), but similar to the term jook-sing, which means hollow bamboo and refers to American Born Chinese (ABC), it goes back a ways. If this term was in use in the camps, this is a really smart cartoon, beyond or despite the sexual overtones. 

But that tangent on race and nationality aside, I’d like to look at the rest of Ama-Chan’s scenes with ideas of gender and sexuality at the forefront, because I think this is the work the paper was intending the character to provide commentary on. 

The big question really is, why is Ama-Chan so sexualized?especially in these camps where very little has been written about sexual practice? Perhaps, we should look to the fact that Esther Takei was in her late teens when she was charged with drawing Ama-Chan and was the only female on a staff of older men. The April 1st, 1944 edition of the Pioneer, in which the cartoon first appears has an introduction which reads as follows:

As the only female reporter on an all male stuff, and a very young one at that, growing up in a society with restrictive gender norms, it’s not surprising that Ama-Chan is basically a pinup girl who seems to be an expression for stereotypical notions of high school girlhood and a male fantasy. We have to keep in mind that Takei’s “much needed ‘feminine touch,’” as the paper says, is filtered and edited through a male staff which was undoubtedly of its era, that is too say not that progressive and certainly not feminist in any way. (I’d point to the Feminidoka  from the Minidoka Irrigator, for a contemporary example of a woman writing a column which is meant to reinforce gender norms, privileging beauty and proper behavior).

In the Granada Pioneer, Ama-Chan may speak to the girls and young women of the camp directly, nodding to their lived experiences and mass-culture teenage ideals, but the character is also very much drawn for male readers. She is boy-obsessed, moody, sexy, a little vapid, but also, sweet to her mother. These qualities work to both girls and men, and create a perfectly two-dimensional woman. In short, she is the perfect pinup for a buttoned up, but still red-blooded community of Japanese-Americans in the 1940s. She’s got a bangin’ bod, is always dressed up/hair did, and titillates without knowing she’s doing so. She’s kind of dumb, but really hot, and at the end of the day, she loves her mama.

Let’s take a closer look at the adventures of Ama-Chan:

(The Granada Pioneer, 4/8/44)

Here is Ama-Chan, on her hands and knees, ass up in the air, searching for eggs. I have no idea what the “hair pins...” comment means. Her lascivious pose is excused by the necessity of the egg hunt. The barbed wire and guard tower in the background are barely noticeable while one is focused on Ama-Chan.

(The Granada Pioneer, 4/12/44)

A commentary on the wild shifts in weather in southeast Colorado using Ama-Chan as the stand in for all women, and their wild mood swings. I almost wonder if a male staffer put in the text for this picture. It could very easily have read: “Around here, a person has to be prepared for anything!”

... although, a funnier caption might have been as follows:

“Hey Ama-Chan, what’s up?”

“Well, I just robbed a sporting goods store and murdered the owner.”

“Sounds like a you’re in a real pickle! Aren’t you worried about the police?!”

 “What are they gonna do, lock me up!?”

(The Granada Pioneer, 4/19/44)

Here we find Ama-Chan in her cutely decorated barrack, gazing lovingly, and pridefully at her collection of soldiers who have sent her signed photographs of themselves in uniform, as well as pieces of their actual uniforms. Her “post-war” problem, which she contemplates while petting her cute dog, is being too popular and having to choose just one boyfriend when (if) they return from war. 

She plays into a typical 1940s American female fantasy here of being pretty and popular, having lots of admirers and a cute dog, while also hinting at the arousing/damning proposition that she is a promiscuous young woman who knows just what she’s doing (the slut fantasy). Ama-Chan, once again is playing to multiple audiences.

Side note: It was very uncommon for the internees to have dogs in camp. In fact, some of the most heartbreaking stories of the evacuation are from kids who had to leave their pets behind. However, I have seen photos of them in the camps, mostly belonging to the families of white staff.

(The Granada Pioneer, 4/26/44)

As we saw in the “post-war problem” cartoon, Ama-Chan, comes off as a vapid, boy-crazy young woman who is more concerned with her popularity and social life than the war. Here, she is making light of the war effort by focusing on her lack of a date for that night’s dance, while the rest of the crowd (all women) wave goodbye to the heroic soldier going to help with the war effort. 

This cartoon denigrates the role of women in the camps during WWII, comparing Ama-Chan’s self centeredness against her would be boyfriend’s sacrifice. She must find a date. He has to defeat Hitler.

(The Granada Pioneer, 5/3/44)

Luckily, a week later, Ama-Chan solved her problem and we find her on a date with handsome fellow attending a mess hall talent show. Once again, we focus on Ama-Chan’s social life. Commenting that “They say he’s the Issei Frank Sinatra,” this comic takes aim at the limited entertainment camp could provide. The caricatured issei performer, bald, wearing glasses, dressed in a sweater vest and tie, and possessing a big gut, is obviously no Sinatra. A hip jazz club, this is not. Had the cartoon featured a handsome man crooning on stage (which there were many instances of), instead of an awkward looking old dude, it would have established that the talent show was something resembling professional entertainment, rather than what is portrayed here, a joke. 

At the same time, maybe Ama-Chan really enjoys the act... if this is the case, and she agrees with the sentiment that this guy is like Sinatra, the comic might be playing up that she’s kind of dumb and doesn’t have great taste in music. 

(The Granada Pioneer, 5/10/44)

The final cartoon in the series clears up any confusion as to the true nature of Ama-Chan. For all of her promiscuity, posing, and air headedness, she proves that she is indeed a sweet girl with a heart of gold, as she peaks around the corner to watch her mother read the loving note attached to the Mother’s Day present she got for her. Our sweet Ama-Chan, despite getting into some compromising positions, and being kind of dumb, shows us that she has respect and gratitude towards her elders, and is truly, a good girl.

Ama-Chan, besides being a play on words describing someone from Amache, makes use of “chan” a Japanese honorific which, in this context, denotes someone who is childish and cute. Ama-Chan, despite her pinup girl body, is still a little girl. She is the camp’s little girl. What does that say? The trope of the sexy little girl is embedded in our culture from Lolita to Britney to Ariana Grande, and historically, in how westerners have long viewed and portrayed Asian women as hyper sexual but diminutive, quiet, and childlike.

 In September 1944, as part of a “test case” sending loyal Japanese-Americans home, Esther Takei went to live with a sponsor in Pasadena, a Quaker activist who advocated for the incarceration to be undone and those affected set free and allowed to return home. She was the first Japanese American not in a special category allowed to return to the West Coast from the camps. Before the war was over, she lived in Gila River for a month. 

When interviewed in 2011, Takei, now with the last name of Nishio, said this about her Ama-Chan cartoon: 

“When I went to work for the camp newspaper... I got a job as a reporter, I think a Sunday school reporter, something like that, and it was news. And then I graduated to having my own column, and then I decided I'd like to draw little cartoons, so I invented a little character called Ama-chan, short for Amache… It was just one little square and it was this little girl... A little situation, not too clever."

Esther was humble about her artistic and creative talents. Her interview shed no light into any commentary she might have been trying to get across with each cartoon. Most likely, she didn’t put nearly as much thought into each drawing, as I have just now, and the nuances concerning race, gender, sexuality and identity, we would read into Ama-Chan today, only came through the subconscious in 1944. Esther had a job to do. She was an 18/19 year old girl, and she wanted to draw funny, little sketches of young womanhood for the camp folk to enjoy. 

Still, these cartoons indicate the existence of sexual thoughts, discussion and actions in these camps, a subject which is rarely ever talked about, but we know must have been present. The histories of the incarceration largely ignore the emotions, sex lives, social lives of young people, especially young women in the camps. I’ve been told kids were hooking up in the laundry rooms and sexual assaults “surely happened.” People dated. In Minidoka they built four “social rooms” for the purpose of encouraging dating, and there were dances all the time, and you know what dancing leads too... Scientifically speaking, everyone knows people had sex because a lot of babies were born in camp. And we know people were aware of sex because in the barracks you could hear everything. There were a lot of boy scouts at Amache, yes, but some of those boy scouts, as they were going through changes in the spring of ‘44, probably spent a lot of time with Ama-Chan.

Ama-Chan is perhaps the most blunt indication of the sexual currents which certainly ran through Amache and the rest of the camps. She has a lot to tell us. Whatever compromised agency Esther Takei might have had in drawing Ama-Chan, under the watch, influence, and editing of her all male colleagues, her cartoon and it’s not so subtle sexuality, helps us to put a little bit of hot blood into a population who we only really know through oral histories recorded in their eighties or from black and white pictures, taken very long ago. The way Ishigo and Okube’s sketches help bring out emotions are hard to see in the photographic record, Takei’s character helps us recover a sexual dimension present in the camps, especially when paired with some of the frank conversations I’ve had with former internees.

[classywastelandbread-blog]

Moving Color - Vers. 1

Another old assignment I found in an old collection of writing from college. If I am remembering correctly, the assignment was to write two versions of the same story or maybe I just had two drafts. 

While she knew that no one thought her particularly bright, Gladys was sure that the empty line of shops she passed on the way to school that day had been that - empty. But now on her way back, there was a shop, a tattoo parlor. It looked very much like something kids her age would be into and she briefly wondered when the first kid from her high school would be bragging about getting inked there.

It looked like a very nice place with the backlit sign above the entrance reading HUMMINGBIRD TATTOO and bearing a very colorful rendition of its namesake. The hummingbird’s wings were spread and something impish seemed to flicker behind the plastic eyes. Something drew her there, something that made her want to go inside and look around.

“Perhaps it won’t be so bad if I just looked?” she murmured to herself, now staring openly at the little shop. It looked painfully bright and out of place among the other run-down shops and maybe a red flag should’ve gone off in her head. “It won’t be so bad,” she told herself, taking a bold step toward the door. “I’ll just run back out if it’s bad.”

Behind the tinted doors lay a very professional-looking suite, though of course Gladys didn’t know what a professional tattooing suite looked like but she assumed that it would look like Hummingbird’s interior. The only other person there was a large and terrifying man with scars across his face and an elaborate sleeve tattoo of a demonic skull with sunken eyes but he seemed kind enough, calling a polite “afternoon!” to her. “Can I interest you in anything?” he asked as he stood up from where he was lounging and lumbered over.

“I-I-I’m just...I’m just looking.” Gladys stammered, trying to look anywhere but the puckered scars of the man’s face or the skull tattoo that seemed to be grinning lecherously at her.

The man smiled again. “Well, I have a few albums of my work if you’d like to look,” he said, gesturing to the small pile of books on the desk. “I’m also having a sale. 50% off. Grand opening, that sort of thing. Now until Friday.”

Somehow she was charmed by him. “I’m not allowed to get a tattoo,” she demurred. “My parents would kill me.” As the words fell from her mouth however, she felt a sudden compulsion to buy a tattoo, something pretty.

The artist shrugged his massive shoulders. “Well I can’t help you there. You have to be 18 to get a tattoo without parental permission.”

“Oh no, I’m 18,” Gladys reassured him. “It’s just that they’d be so mad at me if I got one. No offense, I’m sure you’re a great tattooer...um...I mean…” Feeling her face start to burn, she looked down and kicked herself for being so awkward.

The artist said nothing and sat down behind the desk. “Hang around if you like,” he said as he pulled out a sketch pad. “I don’t got no one here anyway. Just let me know if you need anything.”

Shyly and unsure if she should stay or go, Gladys picked up one of the albums he had gestured to and found a place on the couch. In the album were things she’d expect, like crosses, various expletives on the knuckles, and Chinese dragons. On the very last page, however, a jewel-like hummingbird caught her eye. It seemed ready to pop right off the skin and take flight. “Did you do this?” she asked, startling the big man out of his reverie. She held up the book and showed him the hummingbird. “Was this yours?”

He grinned at her. “One of my best works.”

“I want it,” she blurted then dropped the book to cover her mouth with her hands.

The artist’s bushy brows rose. “I thought you weren’t allowed?”

Gladys made a face at him, feeling suddenly affronted. “I’m eighteen,” she snapped back. “I can do whatever I want.” Carefully she picked up the book and found that it had fallen on the page of the hummingbird. It called to her, she wanted this tattoo, this particular one. “And I want this tattoo.”

Rolling his big shoulders, the artist carefully took the book from her and closed it, putting it on the counter. “Take the night to think it over.” he said very seriously, dark eyes glittering at her and crazily it seemed as if he was simultaneously trying to scare her away and lure her in. “If you still want it tomorrow, come back and I’ll give it to you.”

Gladys shook her head so violently that some strands burst from her plain ponytail. “I want it now. How much is it?”

The man hesitated but only for a moment. “One-fifty for the tattoo, not including the 50% discount for the grand opening. Still want it?” he asked, brows raising as if challenging her to say no.

Even with the discount it was still a decent sum of money. It was almost a turnoff. Almost. If she hadn’t looked down at the album she would have caved in and fled. But she saw the beautiful hummingbird tattoo whose eyes seemed to tease her playfully, don’t be such a wimp. That decided it. She was tired of being plain and boring Gladys. She was tired of being a quiet pushover.

The artist smiled when she said, “I’ll take it.”

“Let’s get started then,” he said as he ushered her kindly into the back room and gestured for her to seat herself in one of the padded chairs. “It’s an additional 50% off if you go for the GhostInk option. And where do you want the tattoo?”

The question made her pause. “Um...my ankle I guess. What’s GhostInk?”

Bushy eyebrows rose as he took her leg and applied the stencil to the area she indicated. “You haven’t heard of it? Well I guess you wouldn’t, this is your first tattoo. But I would have thought that it would have spread to you high schoolers by now.”

Stung by that remark, Gladys jutted her chin and lips out. “Oh, that,” she said, flapping her hand. “I thought it was something else.”

“You’ve heard of it then?” the artist pressed as he checked the adhesion of the stencil and handed her a mirror to inspect its placement. “And you know the risks?”

Gladys handed the mirror back to him. “Yes,” she grumbled. “I know all about them. And I’m fine with it.” she reassured him. “I’ll take that then.”

The artist shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He began pouring the ink into the little capsules and arranging them around his station. Her leg he pulled into his lap where he could steady it while he worked.

For half a second, as the artist grabbed his gun, Gladys considered turning back. But seeing the vibrant and beautiful colors in the little containers and the stencil of the hummingbird on her ankle steeled her resolve. Gritting her teeth, she prepared herself for the pain of her desire.

Flushed with victory and nursing a red and swollen ankle, Gladys thanked and paid the artist. “Here,” he said gruffly, handing her a sheet of paper. “Some instructions on taking care of it. It’ll be fine quick, don’t worry.”

Thanking him again, she fled, making her painful way home. She dodged her parents and locked herself in her room. Peeling off her sock and the plastic saran-wrap the artist had wrapped it in, she inspected the glittering hummingbird on her ankle. Somehow the artist had made it look iridescent and as she turned her ankle this way and that in the light, she thought she saw the colors shift as a real bird’s feathers might. Brushing it off, she rebandaged her tattoo and went down for dinner.

Later that night as she washed and lotioned the tattoo before bed, she noticed that the wings appeared to have moved, as if it had beat its wings. She swore they had been reaching upwards. “I probably should’ve paid more attention to my tattoo,” she murmured as she admired it under the light. As she fell asleep, she thought she felt little things crawling on her ankle over her tattoo. “Oversensitivity,” she mumbled to herself. “I’m just imagining I feel the needle.” Rolling over, she went back to sleep.

The next morning when she woke up, she checked the hummingbird first. It was still on her leg - as if she had expected it to just fly off! - and was as beautiful and colorful as ever. As she tenderly washed and lotioned it, Gladys noticed that it seemed to be an inch or so higher than she remembered and its wings were once more reaching for the sky. Shaking her head at her foolishness - tattoos don’t move! - she finished getting ready for school.

Throughout the day, the tattoo seemed to inch up her leg until there was no way that she could ignore that it moved. By the end of the day, it was halfway up her calf and the wings had definitely shifted. Swallowing her fear, she walked quickly toward the tattoo parlor and when she pushed at the door, she was surprised to find it covered in dust and boarded up. Leaping back, she looked around for the beautiful sign and found no sign that the little suite had been touched in years.

“Hello?” she called, trying to peel a board back from the door or window, trying to look inside for the friendly tattoo artist. “Hello?” she called again, more desperate this time and yanked on the boards until a splinter jabbed her in the soft skin between her fingers. Running home, she went online.

Google told her that there was a Hummingbird Tattoo Parlor in the United Kingdom and that Ghost Ink was a book on magic and illusions. A search for ‘ghostink tattoo’ yielded a tumblr account run by a tattoo artist. She stayed up late researching, trying in vain to search for something that she was slowly beginning to accept wasn’t there, didn’t exist.

“If it didn’t exist, then how did I get the tattoo?” she whispered to herself. “And what is GhostInk?”

You shouldn’t be doing this, an insistent voice in her head said.

Gladys shook her head. “I need to. I need to figure this out.”

It’s not so bad, the voice insisted. I mean, who else has a moving tattoo? No one. You’re one of a kind.

“Maybe you’re right,” she murmured. “But it’s kind of freaky. I want to know what happened. I need to know what happened.”

No, you don’t. The voice replied. You can be popular now. All you have to do is get used to the weirdness. It paused for a moment. Maybe you should lie down and go to sleep. You’re just scaring yourself. Sleep. Rest. Figure it out tomorrow.

Gladys sighed and pushed herself away from her desk and eyed her bed. “Maybe I should just go to sleep,” she mused to herself. “I’m just scaring myself. It could be nothing but I won’t figure it out now. I can do that tomorrow.”

Sleep well, the voice whispered back.

In the morning, she left the house in clothes she normally wouldn’t dare go out in. The hummingbird tattoo had moved in the night to her lower thigh and she wore shorts specifically to show it off. Gladys basked in the compliments on everything from her legs to her “badass tattoo”.

At her locker, she heard the other side of her compliments. “Look at her,” someone muttered to their friend. “Just because she has a tattoo she thinks she’s so cool.”

Don’t take that from them, the voice told her. How dare they speak about you like that?

Fury boiled in Gladys’s veins and she forced herself to remain calm and close the door of her locker. “It’s fine,” she whispered to herself. “It’s all right, they’re just jealous.”

They think they’re so cool, the voice hissed.

Gladys scoffed. “They think they’re so cool.” She flipped her hair at them and walked away, ignoring their glares. “Well I know better.”

This disrespect cannot be tolerated, the voice continued as she walked away to her next class. They need to be taught a lesson.

“They need to be taught a lesson,” Gladys muttered to herself as she continued walking, completely ignoring her friend who was waiting for her at the door. “How dare they.”

A hand on her shoulder made her flinch. “Gladys?” her friend asked in a soft voice. “Are you okay?”

Gladys shook herself out of her friend’s hold. “Fine,” she said with a sniff. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’m just-”

She whirled around, eyes alight with fury. “You’re just what?” Gladys sneered. “Just boring, uncool Carrie? Is that what you’re trying to say. Because you’re right. I don’t know why I’ve ever considered you my friend. I can see that you’re a complete loser.”

Ignoring the tears pooling in Carrie’s eyes, Gladys sat at her desk and crossed her legs. Very good, the voice whispered. Very...regal.

“Queen Gladys,” she murmured to herself so no one would hear. “I like it.”

They are disrespecting you, the voice whispered to her one day. You need to teach them a lesson they won’t forget.

“I need to teach them a lesson,” Gladys hissed to herself as she walked home. “How dare they.”

Yesss, the voice encouraged her, goaded her on. By now the hummingbird had moved to her ribs and moved along her ribcage throughout the day, much more active now that it had gained momentum. They doubt you, they don’t believe you ever had a tattoo.

Gladys paused. “But...you moved. It was because of you.”

Pain shot through her side and she gasped, instinctively clasping a hand to her side. No, the voice hissed. They do not respect you! They must be taken care of. They must die.

“No,” Gladys whispered and whimpered when more pain flared through her ribs. “No, I can’t kill them!”

Hearing voices, she whirled to find a group of girls staring at her strangely. She began to run home, crying like a child every time the little hummingbird tattoo dug its claws into her. By the time she locked herself in her room and peeled off her blouse, her sides were bleeding and the tattoo had settled itself in the center of her chest and was staring up at her. “Oh God,” Gladys moaned, dabbing at the blood with wads of Kleenex from her desk.

God is not here, the tattoo hissed, eyes flashing. It fluttered its wings in a perfectly avian gesture and Gladys felt hot tears slide down her face. There is only me. Now obey.This time it dug its little claws into her skin harder and more blood poured from her skin.

The tattoo ignored her while she sobbed and begged for it to stop. It wasn’t until she screamed that she’d obey it that it ceased mutilating her skin. “I’ll do it,” she sniffed, wiping the snot from her face with a blood-stained Kleenex. “I’ll do it. Just please...stop. Please…”

Claws dug into her chest - comparatively lightly - in warning. Good.

Taking a shaky breath, Gladys opened the door and darted into the bathroom where she hastily patched up the gouges in her flesh and pulled on a bloodless shirt. Still shaking, she made her way downstairs into the kitchen where she gulped down a glass of water. She felt the tell-tale signs of the tattoo moving along her chest and down to her arm where it stared accusingly at her as she refilled her glass. “I need to calm down,” she whispered to it. “Please let me just calm down a bit.”

You will never be calm after I’m done with you, the tattoo hissed, eyes narrowing into furious slits. Now hurry. There is much work to be done.

A hot tear slid down her face and she swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. As she was putting the cup in the sink, she felt the tattoo move to the back of her hand and she saw a fork in the drain rack.

There are so many people that need to die, the tattoo hissed, digging its claws into her skin lightly in warning. Let’s start with your boring little friend Carrie.

Before she could convince herself otherwise, she snatched up the fork, sending the other plates in the drain rack clattering in her haste, and buried it into her hand over the tattoo. Gladys screamed as she furiously stabbed at the tattoo which was quickly lost beneath the gore of her mangled hand.

Her mother came running and screamed when she saw the blood splattered over the counter and the bloody fork in Gladys’s hand.

That was the last straw. Worried about her daughter’s increasingly bizarre behavior, Gladys’s mother had no other choice but to take drastic measures.

Gladys took a shaky breath and lay back on her cot, cradling her bandaged hand against her chest. She hadn’t heard from the demonic tattoo, not since she had stabbed her hand. After it was bandaged she saw only the smallest tip of its beak and tail left unscathed and she had breathed a sigh of relief, finally feeling free of its terrible whispers.

Of course no one believed her when she told them what really happened. Her parents were furious that she had gotten a tattoo and that she had been so stupid about the shop. But this bout of apparent insanity could not be overlooked and they took her to the local mental hospital. No one believed her when she insisted that she wasn’t crazy, but then again, everyone says that.

She sighed and kicked her feet up on the bed, crossing them at the ankles. “It’s not so bad here, I guess.”

Gladys, a very familiar voice called and she clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream.

After a moment she relaxed and laughed shakily. “Just my imagination.”

Gladys, the voice called again and this time she sat up straight, clutching her bandaged hand to her chest. Now Gladys, remember what we talked about.

“No,” she whimpered, clutching her head to her knees. “NO!”

Yes, the voice whispered back. Oh, yes. Remember what I told you? You talked about me. That’s not supposed to happen.

“You’re not real,” Gladys whimpered. “You’re not real. I’m just crazy. Rationalizing…”

No good of himself does a listener hear…

Gladys felt her skin rolling, the tell-tale sign of the tattoo moving around and she cried out as his beak - whole, unscathed - began to emerge from beneath the bandages.

…speak of the devil…

The last of the tattoo’s head emerged and it turned sharply to her, morphing into something grotesque and hideous.

...and he shall appear.

It swelled and emerged from her hand, transforming as it encountered the air until a physical apparition with a large grinning mouth and overlapping teeth stood at the end of her cot.

“Why?” she whispered, too terrified to look away from those fiery eyes and bloody mouth.

Because that’s what I do. I like to play. Would you like to play with me, Gladys? It made a show of looking around the room. Oh. There’s no one else here. I have no one else to play with. Its head snapped back to her and the mouth’s grin stretched impossibly wide. I guess I’ll have to make do with you.

Gladys screamed as the apparition’s hand, tipped with long and terrifying claws caked in blood reached for her.

Carrie kicked the stones along the path as she walked. She missed Gladys. The old Gladys, before that whole tattoo nonsense. It changed her for the worse and look where she ended up. The mental ward was a hard place to keep a friendship going so Carrie eventually gave up on it. Toying with her curly hair, Carrie was surprised to find a tattoo parlor in the old abandoned shop that she had always passed on the way to school.

“Good for them,” she murmured, looking at the sign. There was a slinky black cat and as she watched the sign’s bright green eyes seemed to wink at her. Inexplicably drawn to the shop, she found herself poking her head in the door.

The man behind the counter smiled widely. “Afternoon,” he drawled to her. “How can I help you?”

“I’m just looking, thanks,” she murmured back, looking around. “I was curious to see who bought it.”

“Blak Kat Tats,” the man rumbled kindly through his scarred mouth. “We have 50% now from now until Saturday. Grand Opening and all.”

Carrie shook her head though she didn’t want to admit that she was drawn to the sassy black cat emblazoned on one of the photo albums. She tore her eyes away from the album and looked back at the man to find that he was also looking down at the albums she was staring at. The angle of his neck revealed a bright tattoo of a jewel-like hummingbird with a red beak and claws. As she watched, she could have sworn she saw it wink at her and flex those macabre talons.

“Something wrong?” the artist asked and Carrie shook her head, dispelling the illusion from her mind.

“No, no,” she murmured, looking back down and running her finger along the curve of the cat’s tail. “Everything’s fine.” Hesitantly she glanced back at the artist with his creepy hummingbird tattoo then back at the cat. “I’d like this tattoo, please.”