#the ''style'' she was probably referring to was stuff that i drew years ago

[my-beloved-lakes]

My little sister just said I have a very distinctive way of drawing shoulder muscles😂

[bladeydp]

I only learned about this shameful affair a few months after the release of Fake Worlds End in late 2023. In this post, I will describe what happened and my subjective opinion of lunariamv as an active domestic Charon fan on the Internet.

First let's understand who lunariamv is. lunariamv is an online game maker (active on Tumblr and tiktok) who has been reviled by charon fans overseas for pirated charon games. lunariamv started out as a painter, but one day he started to imitate charon's games. At first, it was just the imitation of the painting style, and then gradually began to copy the original. lunariamv's Doom Stones is a direct copy of charon's Makoto Mobius. Not long ago, lunariamv copied Mikoto Nikki again.

Now let's talk about my personal feelings

My favorite charon character is Mikio from Makoto Mobius. I've only been active on Twitter for six months now. The first time I saw the Doom Stones CG I naively thought it was some unfinished work by charon. And then I was misled, like an idiot, and I posted it on Twitter. Later, under the explanation of the Internet fans, I found that what I saw was something contrary to heaven. (I ended up deleting that tweet because it was disgusting to think of copycat stuff as a family thing) and lunariamv drew Mikio as a man...

lunariamv, don't you get it? The decision to change the original in order to make it look less identical is disgusting...)

(" I don't Want People Who are hindering Me to Interact with Me "is like a thief declaring that he is stealing from people around him and not to stop him.) He claims to be artistic and aesthetic without any consideration for anything else, like A saying to B: "I like your dress, but you will be mediocre without it, so I will get the same dress as you." Let me make my position clear: I do not oppose those who learn from charon's painting style, and the later development of painting style depends on the reference in the early stage. But isn't it a little cheeky to copy the plot? lunariamv claims to be a charon fan, but she would rather draw a fan map of her own game than a fan map of charon's own character. In addition, lunariamv's early works were found to have been copied by overseas charon fans.

Like Matsuri? That's right, because lunariamv doesn't make people.

However, lunariamv explained the plagiarism: "I didn't do it intentionally, it was just for fun."

One day I robbed your house of every penny left, and when I finally tell you, "I didn't mean to rob your house, it was just for fun," you will be happy.

Why are you calling this guy Mikio? You probably know that I like Mikio, and I think you're getting back at me and the other Charon fans, right? lunariamv, I should have known you had no shame.

And this guy is trying to mislead his uninformed fans by branding his game as a Charon game.

lunariamv posted a video of herself playing the game she copied from Charon on YouTube. lunariamv's YouTube account:

I argued with him in the comments section of YouTube and was met with sophistry:

Even if you have no business purpose, no intention of making a profit, but you have done such a reckless thing, especially against the Charon group, lunariamv, I just want to ask you, is your conscience being eaten by a dog? You don't talk back to other fans, you don't talk back to me, you use the law as a shield when I'm judging, do you really think the world revolves around you?

So I went to tumblr to argue with this asshole. Continue to expose this guy's evil deeds under this guy's blog, and then he responded to me like this:

Who gave you the courage to be a thief and scold me for exposing your ugly face? First: No one listens to your guile, your guile is against ethics. Second, other fans are helping me. I only look at the facts. Third: I am 18 years old. I was diagnosed with ADHD as a child and had symptoms of delusional disorder. But I'm not retarded. I think lunariamv's comments have violated my right to personal dignity, mocking me as childish, retarded, and incapable of respecting others. No, have you ever respected other fans who come to you to talk to you alone? (There are private messages from overseas fans about how this guy's stolen work compares to the original, but this guy doesn't reply) Do you respect Charon? You're talking about respect here?

Not only was I scolded, but lunariamv wrote a short essay in order to "repay" my exposure:

(I have three requirements for you :1. Stop infringing 2. Delete the works that involve plagiarism 3. A public apology to Charon makes it spam?)Stop using the law as an excuse. I've seen that too many times before, "I don't take Inspiration as my own," and when you posted your last rip-off and shamelessly called it original, how did I tweet it back at you?

Just because you acknowledge and praise the original work doesn't mean you can copy it, but if you acknowledge and praise the renovation of my home, you can pick the door lock of my home? What bandit logic...) How can you proudly compare yourself to everything in the world? A: Do you think in other people's shoes? Don't you ignore other fans when they explain to you calmly? In my private letter to you, I just repeatedly emphasized my three demands. Did I verbally attack you? Isn't it true that you plagiarized? (" I'll Take Criticism with a grain of Salt, "and then you posted this quibbling essay.)

"You want the same thing as Charon, Please don't expect it," Then you don't fucking get involved with Charon, you can't be original? Your work is too misleading, and some Charon fans who don't know the truth have begun to defend you, really fucking "Congratulations, congratulations" ah)(you have violated the bottom line of Charon and Charon fans again and again, my evaluation is either apologize or delete the number roll, pretend what big tail Wolf)

This guy played Fake Worlds End and still insists he didn't plagiarize, knowing Charon went through a plagiarism scandal and still plagiarized, so it's a little cheeky to defend herself, right?

By the way, this guy is already copying mix ore.

Finally, I gave it to lunariamv with one of our famous Chinese poems. Anyway, that guy doesn't understand the broad and profound Chinese culture.

《诗经·彼阳》

彼阳若至，初升东曦。

绯雾飒蔽，似幕绡绸。

彼阳篝碧，雾霂涧滁。

赤石冬溪，似玛瑙潭。

彼阳晚意，暖梦似乐。

寐游浮沐，若雉飞舞。

あなたは少し能力と度胸があるならば、私の郵便受けに来て私のフィードバックを探します:tamasuyouaya@gmail.com

盗作って何ができるんですか?

[akocomyk]

That's it!

The people whom I based the stories I posted these past few weeks are in the images above. Seven of them are not there though and two people who are present are actually not included—I’m not pertaining the two professors on the far left who were from different schools. Pondering upon these thoughts now made me wish that I did make stories about the other two as well—maybe the 21 year old me couldn’t find a way to squeeze them in.

If you have no I idea what I'm talking about since you've only just seen this post, please read the series Souls of the Gateway Kingdom—a.k.a. The Game of 13 Characters—here in my blog. I recommend that you scroll down and start reading with the post “A foreword” then read the characters’ stories in order and finish with “At the end…”.

If you’re one of the very few people who read original version, you have may have noticed a lot of differences—aside from the full color illustrations, of course. I thought it would be better to add more dimension to the characters that lacked depth and removed some parts that would probably be harmful for some people. Some of the new stuff were also based on real events back then. To give more impact to these additions, I had to change the order of posting as well. I also added a new character that would serve as a concluding note—that was the only illustration that I drew from scratch this year, everything else were the exact original line arts.

Original artworks made for the game.

Reg won that game nine years ago (almost exactly since the winner was announced on May 25). And then a few months later, she succeeded me as the Editor-in-Chief of the school paper—just as I wanted. And it’s funny that during the editorial board screening, when I was on the judging panel and we were asking the would-be members who they think deserved to be my successor, they were all saying her name and they had good reasons for it. And in the back of my mind, all I could think of was maybe their thoughts were influenced by my freakin’ game.

Going back the images above… Those were the people that made my college life more memorable, more enjoyable, and definitely more dramatic—you can tell by the stories I’ve created. I miss it sometimes—I’m not only referring to the people but also the work and the friendship we had.

Perhaps these are just a thing in my past—that surely made a huge influence to the person I am now—but if the opportunity rises for me to somehow come back, I might welcome it with open arms. Who knows?

P. S. My friend Annie saw the God of Chaos character illustration and thought it was really good—a beautiful chaos, she said—and that my improvement as an artist is very evident in that drawing. So, she urged me to make another series, like a sequel or something that would have a similar art style. And… I’m actually planning on doing another series like this, or something like the Letters to the Cosmos, and I still haven’t scrapped that idea yet. I can’t tell much right now.

[not-xpr-art]

Art Advice #4 - A Beginner’s Guide to Digital Art

Hi all!

This weeks entry into my Art Advice tag, where I offer various advice for artists of any skill level, is about digital art! Now, I am by no means an expert at digital (I’ve been doing it for nearly 8 years at this point and that is almost entirely self taught), but I have picked up a few pointers in that time which will hopefully help anyone just starting out!

(this blogpost is a little over 2000 words long btw)

A Beginner’s Guide to Digital Art 

I know that the world of digital art has changed drastically in the 8 odd years since I started, but I’d still say that some of the options I started out with will be just as good for anyone who’s starting out now! 

As always, I’ll be splitting this into sections to make it easier for you to navigate this post!

Part 1 - Equipment/Hardware 

There are a lot of drawing tablet options on the market at the moment, and I’m not going to pretend that I know anything about half of them lol. But I think for a beginner, don’t worry about going for the most expensive option, even if the reviews are really good or your favourite artist uses it, especially if it is way above your budget! 

An important thing to know is that there are two types of tablet. One is the plug-in kind. These are essentially a pad which you plug into your laptop or computer and draw on that whilst looking at the screen (they basically work the same way as a plug in mouse works). The other kind is the screen variety, which is a lot more like what most of us know as ‘tablets’ nowadays. And you draw directly onto the screen. 

(a plug-in vs on screen tablet, both from Wacom)

Now, as for choosing between these, it is honestly a personal choice. But I’d say if you’re just wanting to try digital and you’re on a budget, a plug-in tablet can be really useful since it gets you used to the mechanics of what digital is like, and they are often significantly cheaper than the screen alternatives. I would say that plug-in tablets are a big learning curve, especially if you’re used to doing traditional stuff, but I do know a lot of professional artists who still use this kind of tablet when doing their work, so if it’s something you can get used to I would definitely consider it! Also, they’re often a lot more portable than some screen tablets! The first one I had was a Huion (a model so old that I can’t even find a link to it now lol), and I also know that Wacom are a well known brand that do some decent plug-in tablet. I’d recommend you do your own research on other brands and options, though!

Screen tablets are often a lot more expensive, but if you’re used to traditional art, they are a lot easier to get a handle of! But I know if you already have something like an iPad, or other general use tablets, then they offer apps that you can use to draw on (as well as things like the Apple pen, or other stylus’). The big difference between using these general tablets and ones specifically designed for drawing is pretty much purely a personal choice. I personally prefer the bigger screen of my XP-Pen tablet, along with a special screen protector that removes the shininess of the tablet screen and makes it feel more like ‘paper’ over when I used a general use tablet it draw. But if you already have an iPad, or something similar, then it’s honestly a really great starting point!

I think it’s important for me to mention that you don’t need fancy equipment to be an artist. The incredible Elicia Donze has revealed countless times how she has very basic equipment but still manages to produce the most stunning artworks! All you really need is some kind of drawing apparatus and a lot of patience lol! Getting good at any kind of art takes a lot of time and effort, but I would definitely say it’s worth it when you’re able to look back at your progress!

Part 2 - Software/Drawing Programs 

Much like with the hardware discussion, choosing which program to use is entirely down to personal preference. I personally have never really liked Photoshop purely because it’s really complicated, but I know so many artists swear by it. 

I think the main aspect to consider when you’re starting out is whether you want to pay for a program. Software like Photoshop, Clip Studio Paint and Procreate are some of the popular ones I hear about a lot of people using, but all require you to purchase or subscribe to them. So if you’re young or on a very tight budget, I’d honestly recommend the free alternative versions of these, such as Krita (Krita is quite a large program, but it has a lot of really awesome features and is very similar to Photoshop!), Gimp (this one is similar to Krita, but has slightly less options, I’d honestly recommend Gimp for anyone who does photo editing though!) or FireAlpaca (this is the one I use, by the way and it’s a pretty simple program, but has a lot of fantastic features and is perfect for how I work!). These don’t have as many features as some of the paid alternatives, but I honestly think all you really need to start digital art is some kind of ‘canvas’ and set of brushes!

Another great free program for beginners I’d recommend is MyPaint, which is great for doodling and just getting used to how digital art feels in comparison to traditional! It also has a bunch of ‘traditional style’ brushes, to make it look like charcoal or watercolour (which I’m sure the paid alternatives have too, but it’s always better when it’s free, I find lol...)

(this is an example of a drawing I did on MyPaint using the ‘charcoal’ effect brush!)

Most of the sites are pretty self explanatory, with sections dedicated to different brushes (I’ll go into the types of brushes later on in this post btw!), adjusting brush size, shape and opacity, a colour wheel, etc. You also have a section dedicated to ‘layers’ (another thing I’ll go into more detail later), and various ‘filters’ and editing options and effects you can add to your work to make it more interesting!

I’d really just recommend playing around with programs until you find your one!

Part 3 - The Pros of Digital Art!

I realise this section should probably earlier in this blog post lol, but I kinda wanted to go into what digital art can achieve in comparison to traditional art, and how beginner artists can utilise this!

I definitely didn’t take advantage of certain aspects of digital art when I first got into it, and they’re things that would have definitely made my life a whole lot easier lol!

Digital art allows you to tweak drawings as you do them. So if you accidentally drew the eye too far to the right, then you can easily move it to the right place. (I usually do this by selecting whichever area is wrong, cutting it out and then pasting it into a new area... And yes, there is probably a better and quick way of doing this but...I haven’t found that way yet lol...). And I honestly think that this has allowed me to look a lot more at a reference image in order to figure out where I’ve gone wrong with a drawing! Whereas with traditional art, I usually spend so long trying to get an eye right, that even if it’s slightly in the wrong place, I don’t want to completely redo that section. Digital allows you to completely rub out sections without leaving indents, which is honestly such a saving grace!

Another pro of digital is the Undo/Ctrl Z function! This means you can easily go back to before you made a major mistake with just a click of Ctrl Z... Though I have to say that this function has honestly ruined traditional art for me... Oh what wouldn’t I give for a real life Ctrl Z... But yeah, this is a great part of digital art and definitely something you will grow to love lol!

Another great thing about digital is that it allows you to flip and turn a canvas as you’re drawing on it. I spent a lot of time trying to turn my tablet around in order to draw certain parts of a piece before I realised you can turn the canvas itself without having to move yourself or your tablet!

Layers are another part of digital that can be super useful, and I have to be honest but I don’t really use them a lot. I know a lot of artists create layers for every section of their artworks (so, one for the linework, one for colouring, a separate one for the background, etc etc...). And there’s something really great about being able to paint without worrying about smudging into a previous section of the painting. This works well for my work since I do a lot of bright backgrounds. I also often create a lot of ‘versions’ of my works, so it’s useful to be able to change the background without affecting the main figure of the piece! (I have to say that I often work in one big layer when I’m doing paintings, just because I like how it feels more like ‘traditional’ art that way, but layers are such a brilliant tool, and definitely something you should play around with!)

The eyedropper tool is another one that is really useful! Although I never colour pick from my reference photos, I know some artists find this useful when they were just starting out (especially if you’re not sure what colour to make shadows or how to mix skin tones, etc etc). The eyedropper basically means you don’t need to mix your colours every time

Part 4 - Just some other things I wish I had known about when I was starting out lol...

This last section is just dedicated to a few things that I would have liked to have known when I was just starting out all those years ago. 

First one is fluffy/textured brushes! 

I spent most of my art life from 2013 until 2016 using ‘round’ brushes which are notoriously hard to blend with, so I’d recommend either downloading some fluffy/textured brushes (DeviantArt was where I got mine from a few years back, but there are probably other places you can get them for free too!) to your program of choice, since most of the programs I’ve used haven’t had fluffy/textured brushes as pre-set. 

I may make another post about how I blend in my artworks if that’s something people would be interested in?

(this is an example of textured brush blending vs round brush blending... I usually opt for round brushes for rougher blending styles and the textured brushes for more smooth and ‘realistic’ blending... for a lot of pieces, though, I use both brushes (the round brushes are good for details!) in the same way that you use different sized brushes for real paintings!)

The next thing I wish I’d discovered earlier is the Brush Stabiliser option. Some programs may do this automatically, but the one I use (FireAlpaca) requires you to manually change the amount of stabilising you have on your brush. This is particularly useful if you want to draw neat lines or straight lines (the stabiliser essentially slows down the ‘ink’ as you’re drawing). I only recently started using the stabiliser, and although I still like having it mostly turned ‘off’ for doing sketchy work, it does make doing line work a lot easier, and also gives pieces a more polished look!  

Next advice is to explore all the options you can in whatever program you use! 

I feel like with certain programs, you can get overwhelmed by choice and you end up just using a few of the functions. But I’d really recommend just playing around with these programs, trying all the filters and editing options to get used to how the program works. You can often find interesting ways to adjust your artworks this way! In a way I’d recommend this way of working more than finding tutorials made by other people... Unless there’s a specific function you want to learn how to do, just having fun with digital art is a major part of it’s appeal to me! 

~

There are probably a lot of other options I could go into, but this is already over 2000 words long, so I’ll leave it here for now lol! (I may do a part 2 though so... keep a look out for that!)

As always, if you have any questions to things I’ve said here, or are just looking for more advice, don’t hesitate to message me!

And if you like my work on here (art & blog posts) feel free to support me on my Ko-Fi! <3

[faerielleart]

Hello Angie! I hope you're great...So, I love watching people drawing and painting and I'm curious about the process of finding your own style. How was your process on finding your own style? Have you ever feell like a copycat on some moment of your artistical journey?

heyo anon! thanks for the super interesting question, i hope i can deliver an equally interesting answer :’) <333

imma start off by saying that i am still figuring out *my* artstyle and i find my art to be very, very, very inconsistent at this point. i do have some specific traits that i guess kinda characterize my art and make it ✨mine✨ but i don’t think i have a super recognizable style, working on it tho ☝️ hopefully one day i’ll post something and someone’ll go “OHH THAT WAS TOTALLY DRAWN BY ANGIE I CAN TELL FROM THE STYLE” but that day is probably centuries away-

rather than calling it my art style, i’m using “my art traits”, and the process of finding them and standardizing them in my brain was totally done through experimenting! and probably the most important thing for me is lighting and shadows, and i am super inspired by the painter caravaggio and i’ve done studies of his painting ever since i was in school. my mom went to art school and graduated from an important art academy so i’ve kind of always done studies on artistic movements and stuff like that bc my house is literally falling down from the amount of art books my mom collected over the years since she was a teen 💀💀 still got some of her original school textbooks as well. and that’s where i draw most of my inspiration really! i am mostly inspired by impressionism and macchiaioli as far as movements go. also was pretty obsessed with doing studies of degas’ ballerinas some years ago when i was still doing traditional art and painting with actual paint LOL but that’s how you learn! through being a “copycat”!

i feel like there’s such a huge issue in the art community with “copying/referencing” when really it’s the only fucking way to learn, period. how do you learn anatomy? by copying a real human body. how do you learn how to paint lights and shadows? by copying how light hits objects in real life. how do you learn how to paint backgrounds? by copying real environments. i’ve never really felt like a “copycat” per se bc imho referencing IS fundamental and it’s impossible to learn without it, anyone who says otherwise is straight up lying LOL or trying to make themselves look ✨cool and gifted that they never need references✨ or whatever

but yeah experiments experiments and more experiments and trying out techniques and following tutorials over and over again until you start to pick up on things and do them automatically and give them your own twist by more experimenting, and boom, art style

as far as digital artists go, i absolutely love two italian ladies, angela vianello and mirka andolfo, and i am VERY influenced by their art :D here’s some examples of their art (I EVEN MET MIRKA AT A CON A FEW YEARS AGO SHE DREW ME A DOODLE AND AUTOGRAPHED IT AJDJDKDJDJDJ)

[deathsteel]

30 day fanfic challenge

Prompt #13 -Regret

“Fuck”, Dean muttered, scrubbing at the dark ink curving over his collarbone with a washcloth. 

It hurt like a bitch, the skin red and inflamed and raw like he was scrubbing over a sunburn. But, damnit, Dean was NOT going to keep looking at the name of his ex-fucking-girlfriend tattooed right over his heart like some damn fool. 

Last night was supposed to be their 5 year anniversary, but instead Dean had gotten drunk alone at the divest dive bar to ever exist while looking at pictures of Lisa on her honeymoon on Instagram. They’d gone on to Jamaica, how lame. Dean would have taken her to see the Northern lights, kissed her in a forest, and climbed to the top of a mountain to declare to the world how much he loved her. In his hungover state, Dean spitefully hoped that Lisa and Benny got rained on the whole time they were there. 

So yea, Dean was out a best friend and a girlfriend all in one fateful night two years ago. He didn’t even really know why he hadn’t unfollowed the two of them on Instagram yet. Sam said it was because he liked to torture himeself, but Dean had just thought of it as him playing the long game until Lisa was single again. He’d had the tattoo for two and a half years and it served as a constant, daily reminder of how shitty one Dean Winchester was at relationships. 

“You should get that covered up,” his roommate Garth said, leaning nonchalantly in the doorway of the bathroom. 

Dean just groaned at the other man who looked annoyingly well-rested and continued to rub at the curling script even though he knew it wouldn’t make a lick of difference. He tried to avoid his own gaze in the mirror because he knew he looked like death warmed over and eventually just tossed the washcloth in the sink with a growl of frustration. 

“Really, man,” Garth continued, cheerful as ever even though Dean had brusquely pushed past him on the way out of the bathroom. “The guy that does all of my work, he’s great. He specializes in cover ups too! He did this trailing flower thing on Bess’s side to cover up the scar from her accident. It's pretty awesome.” 

Dean knew which of his girlfriend’s tattoos that Garth was talking about. Bess had worn a bikini last summer for the first time that Dean had known her and he’d seen the ink flowing gracefully down her ribcage. It had been lifelike and beautiful, dandelions both in bloom and as the white-tufted seeds clinging to delicate stems; waiting to turn into wishes. He hadn’t even noticed that Bess had a scar that the tattoo was covering up, but that was probably the point. 

He stormed towards his bedroom, mulling over the thought of going under the needle to cover up Lisa’s name on his skin. 

How much longer could he kid himself? Was it even healthy to continue to hope that he and Lisa would get back together? She was fucking married at this point, to Benny of all people! Benny was a good dude, the best dude. And Dean was scum for selfishly wanting them to split up. 

The little voice in Dean’s head that sounded an awful lot like Sam whispered that it was time to let go. 

“Garth!” Dean hollered, pulling a grey t-shirt roughly over his head and reaching for his discarded jeans from the night before. “You got the name of this tattoo guy?!”

~~

Ethereal Ink was in the up and coming part of town that all the locals snidely called ���gentrified’. It was located in a refurbished furniture manufacturing plant that had one been the town’s pride and joy in the 60s and 70s, but it had since been updated and broken up into smaller subsections that housed the tattoo shop, a smoothie bar, and a hot yoga studio respectively. Dean grimaced at the sign for the empty space next to the tattoo shop that declared ‘Artisanal Cheese Shoppe Coming Soon!’ as he walked into the parlor before dropping his jaw open as he started at the flash adorning the walls around him. 

It was unlike any tattoo shop he had seen before, which granted he had only seen the one when he had initially gotten the ‘Lisa’ tattoo and it had been much seedier than the shop he stood in now. One of the walls of the shop was painted with a sweeping solar system, glowing in hyperrealistic color and scale, the stars and constellations radiating vibrantly against the starkly painted navy hue of the wall itself. A second wall was swathed in plaques and trophies, proudly displayed showing the triumphs and accolades of the shop’s employees. 

The remaining two walls showcased lovingly framed flash art and pictures, but it didn’t look like the kind that someone could just pick off the wall and request to have put on their bodies. No, the placement of it looked purposeful. Arranged artistically and clustered into themes, the art seemed to capture the personalities of the people who drew them. 

Dean noticed that the artists Anna seemed to prefer portrait art of people and pets, keeping mostly to a black and white color scheme. Hannah, on the other hand, used bright colors and worked in a style that reminded Dean of old sailor tattoos. Billie seemed to favor a tribal, geometric style, and Jess appeared to be the shop’s resident piecer since her cluster was artfully taken photo close-ups of healed piercings. But the last group of artwork, infuriatingly unsigned, seemed to be a marriage of realism and storybook illustrations. There was something arrestingly lifelike in the drawing of a fox posed among vibrantly pink wildflowers and playful in the drawing of a rocketship taking flight. Dean liked all of the artwork, but these caught his attention, these made his hands itch to reach out and touch. 

“You my two o’clock consult?” A femenine voice asked causing Dean to spin around and face the counter that separated the awards from the rest of the store. A dark skinned woman with riotously curly hair and tattooed arms revealed by her black tank top leaned comfortably on her arms against the glass top of the counter. 

"Yea," Dean replied, putting on a charming smile. "You Cas?"

“No,” the woman said flatly, unfolding her arms to reveal twisting dark tribal tattoos going up the inside until they disappeared under her top. “I’m Billie. Cas is sick and I’m the next best at cover ups.”

Dean tried not to be disappointed, Cas must be who the unsigned artwork belonged too and it was much more intriguing than the stark tribal pieces the woman seemed to favor.

It must have shown on his face though, “You can reschedule with him in about a week or so,” Billie offered. “He has the flu, so he shouldn’t be out longer than that. But Cas said you sounded pretty eager to get this done in your email so he asked me to see you.”

 “Cool, well.” Dean floundered, not wanting to appear ungrateful because really, he wanted this fucking name off of his body like yesterday. “Uh...where do we start?”

“Come back to my office and show me what I’m working with,” Billie said, gesturing to the hallway that led behind the counter and deeper into the store before heading that way herself. 

Dean followed quickly and was led into a doorless office that contained a padded, reclining tattooing chair, a very large tool chest that was covered in stickers, and even more art featuring tribal tattoos on the walls. 

“So where is this no doubt beautiful work that you want to get covered up?” Billie asked blandly, taking a seat on a small rolling stool that had been tucked into the corner. 

“On my chest,” Dean answered, perching on the tattoo chair before he hooked a finger in the collar of his shirt and tugged it down to reveal the inked skin in question. “It’s just the name of an ex and well…”

“Hey, no shame,” Billie said, leaning forward to study the ink. “We all do dumb stuff for love, right?”

Dean shrugged and let out a puff of air through his nose in amusement. It was nice not to be made to feel like a tool for getting a dumb tattoo.

“Can’t say I’ve ever gotten a person’s name put on me though…”Billie mused, pulling out her cell from her back pocket. “Mind if I take a few reference pictures? So I can make sure my sketch actually covers the old ink?”

“Sure,” Dean replied, feeling like a moron again. He should’ve never gotten this tattoo, even Lisa had thought it was dumb when he’d shown her.

“Can you take your shirt off for me?” 

“Um...yea?” Dean said hesitantly, reaching back to pull the shirt over his head. 

“Don’t be shy,” Billie replied, her phone audibly clicking as she snapped a few pictures of Dean’s newly revealed torso and shoulders. “This way I’ll know how much room I have to work with. Plus you’re not my type.” 

“Oh,” Dean laughed nervously. “Not enough muscles?”

“Not enough tits,” Billie replied with a smirk, winking at him before snapping another picture and sliding her phone away. “But I’m sure there are lots of people who would appreciate your physique just the way it is. You can put your shirt back on now.”

Dean smiled to himself as he did just that; he had never been one to turn down a compliment from anyone, even if they weren’t interested in more than just admiring for aesthetic reasons. 

“So what are you thinking as far as design?” Billie asked, taking her seat back on her stool. 

“Well…” Dean started before hitting a proverbial brick wall. He really hadn’t thought beyond just wiping Lisa’s name off of his body. “I’m open to suggestions?”

Billie just raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you alway this impulsive when it comes to putting something permanent on your body?” 

Dean just waved his hands in a helpless gesture and put on what he hoped was a charming smile. Based on Billie’s expression it didn’t really work as well as it typically did. 

“Which art did you like the best out there?” Billie asked, smiling when Dean froze like a deer in headlights. “I saw you looking at Cas’s stuff? You like those flowers and nature things?” 

“Yea, but uh...yours are really great too,” Dean offered trying to backpedal his way out of inadvertently insulting his tattoo artist. 

Billie just waved away Dean’s compliment with a grin, “I know my stuff is not everyone’s cup of tea. I can see the appeal in the Cas’s pretty stuff.”

Dean wanted to protest that the prettiness of the other artist’s work had very little to do with why he liked it, but honestly it was pretty and Dean was comfortable enough with his masculinity to admit that he liked flowers sometimes. Especially after all of that therapy he did after his and Lisa’s breakup. 

“Listen,” Billie continued, entirely unaware of Dean’s inner monologue. “This is just a consult, we’re not getting married. If you like the flowers, I can forward these pics onto Cas and he can work something up for you.”

Dean gnawed on his lip for a second, ultimately deciding that another week or two with Lisa’s name on his body didn’t mean anything. Maybe he could just cover it up with some bandages or something. He nodded in agreement and moved to get to his feet. 

“That settles it then,” Billie said, getting to her feet and leading Dean back towards the front of the shop. “But, let me get your contact info so Cas can reach out once he’s back to schedule with you.”

“No prob,” Dean replied, jotting down his cell number and email address for Billie before giving her a little salute and bidding farewell. 

~~

 The first text came the next afternoon. 

“What is your favorite color?” Unknown Number 1:47pm

Dean stared at his phone incredulously for a minute before shrugging and typing in ‘Red’ and hitting send. 

It had been a slow day at work, maybe this was one of those call/text your number neighbor things going around again. 

“What is your star sign?” Unknown Number 3:20pm

‘Aquarius,’ Dean replied, feeling bold. ‘What’s urs?’

‘Leo,’ Unknown Number replied a few minutes later, followed quickly by, ‘Favorite flower?’

Dean smirked to himself as he thumbed out a reply, ‘Chocolate sunflower.’ 

‘Opportunity’ Unknown Number 3:42pm

‘Huh?’ Dean replied back. 

‘Chocolate sunflowers symbolize opportunity,’ Unknown Number answered. ‘I like proteas, myself.’

A quick google search taught Dean that proteas symbolized change and hope; he decided to share this newfound knowledge with his mystery text buddy. 

He earned a photo in return. It was just a picture of a blooming flower, one which Dean now knew to be a protea, inked onto a forearm that was corded in sinewy muscle and ended in a long-fingered masculine hand. Dean noted the ink smudges on the tips of the index and thumb, the fine, dark hairs dusting the skin around the tattoo, and the freckle on the edge of the palm of the hand. 

‘I was thinking of a bouquet,’ Unknown Number shared. ‘Something big to cover up that name on your chest. I’ll send some sketches along shortly.’

Dean swallowed hard, realizing that he had been flirting with his tattoo artist via text. His apparently inked and muscled and weirdly nerdy tattoo artist.

 If asked he would deny stalking the tattoo shop’s instagram until the day he died, but it was in a picture simply captioned ‘#flowerboy’ that Dean managed to find a picture of the elusive Cas. The Cas who would be covering up the name of Dean’s ex-girlfriend. The Cas who had probably seen shirtless pictures of Dean courtesy of Billie. The Cas who was practically the walking embodiment of all of Dean’s wet dreams that featured a male counterpart. 

He groaned into a pillow for a little bit, questioning all of his life choices, before beginning to feel better. Dean had a lot of regrets, but bailing on this tattoo would not be one of them. This could be an opportunity for something. A change that he needed. Hope for something more with a cute guy who had the swoonest arms that Dean had seen in a long time. 

And yea, he did swoon. Just a little. 

[roslinadama-sinequanon]

Saying Good-Bye to Yesterday-Chapter 11

So, yes it’s been forever and day. I haven’t dropped off the planet or quit writing for Shandy. It just got difficult for a while.  

You can find the chapter here https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13004092/11/Saying-Good-Bye-to-Yesterday and here https://archiveofourown.org/works/15321687/chapters/53083987 and here

****

"Hey, hon." Andy paused in buttoning his shirt at the greeting, his lips curving into a smile when he took in Sharon's disheveled appearance as she entered their bedroom, fresh from a workout, spandex shorts clinging to her long toned thighs, loose tendrils of hair slipping out of her high ponytail.

"How was the Barre class?" He asked.

"It wasn't Barre. It was Spin." Over the past few months, Amy had convinced her to start taking spin classes with her, adding to her usual regimen of Body Barre, Pilates, and Yoga.

"Well, how was Spin?"

"Ugh." She pulled the sweaty racerback tank over her head. "Jelly legs."

"Gorgeous legs," he corrected.

"Yes, well, that takes work, darling." Though she ate healthily, for the most part, was supple, naturally active, and thanks to genetics and a great metabolism, didn't have to fight hard to maintain her slender figure, she exercised to keep toned and fit. In addition to the classes she attended when her schedule allowed, she swam laps almost every day, did some light weights at the PD gym, and also got out to Malibu to a riding stable as often as she could. When she first mentioned her horseback riding to Andy as a full-body workout, he gave her a typical Andy quip, "for the horse, right? " She'd ignored the comment until she could prove her point. One afternoon she'd taken him on what he referred to as a "ball crushing" ride, and he'd sheepishly eaten his words. Later still, when they'd become intimate and he'd felt those "thighs of steel" around his waist, he'd come to an even greater appreciation of that "full-body" exercise.

"Well, I'm pretty gross right now, so I'm going to hop in the shower." She pulled off her sports bra and wiped at the sweat under her breasts before dropping it in the hamper and disappearing into the bathroom. When she emerged 15 minutes later, she had one towel wrapped around her torso, the other turban-style around her head.

"Don't forget, I have book club tonight," she said.

"Yeah, I'm gonna hit a meeting."

She glanced up sharply from her dresser, a pair of rose-colored panties dangling from her fingertips. "Everything okay?"

Though her tone remained neutral, Andy picked up the tiny inflection of worry. It wasn't his usual meeting night. "Yeah, everything's fine," he assured her. "I had to skip last week because of our case, and I haven't gotten the chance to talk to Isaac."

"About us?"

"Yes."

Once in her fresh panties, Sharon shimmied on a pair of black leggings that she paired with a long, slouchy v-neck cashmere sweater in a soft shade of blush. To finish off the casual outfit, she slipped on a pair of two-tone quilted Chanel ballet flats, big silver hoop earrings, and a silver cuff bracelet. Andy continued to watch her dress. Watching her shed her professional persona for her personal one was kind of a ritual for him. At work, she was all fitted, classic, sleek lines. Understated and sophisticated. At home, her wardrobe was softer and a little more eclectic. Even her jewelry was different. At work, simple diamond studs in her ears and her watch, no bracelets, no necklaces, no dangling earrings. At home, she often wore pretty bracelets, hoops or dangling earrings, and a variety of necklaces, including the crucifix she never wore to work. Separation of church and state and all. He asked her once why she stopped wearing necklaces when she took over Major Crimes. After expressing surprise that he had actually noticed that, she told him that Brenda had warned her that wearing a necklace when interviewing suspects was dangerous because they could use it to try to strangle her. Given the violent animosity their former Chief seemed to bring out in suspects, he figured she was speaking from experience. Probably a good idea that he wore his sobriety necklace tucked in under his shirt. He was pretty sure there were hundreds of suspects over the years who would have loved nothing more than to strangle him.

A half-hour later, with her hair blown dry and her make up re-applied, Sharon came out of the bedroom to see Andy slipping on his jean jacket as he prepared to head out. Rusty was sitting on the couch on his laptop.

"You boys are on your own for supper tonight," she reminded the two.

"Okay. " Rusty glanced up. "What do you want to do, Andy?"

"I have a meeting, so I thought I could pick something up for us on my way home. Want a pizza from Palermo's?"

"Just make sure my half isn't loaded down with veggies."

Andy rolled his eyes. "No veggies. Got it."

Sharon smiled and started to reach for the Trader Joes bag she'd left on the table.

"I've got that, babe." Andy took the heavy bag and followed her out the door. Not so long ago, she might have bristled at the move and argued that she could carry the bag herself, but Andy knew that. It was simply a gentlemanly act of kindness, and she no longer looked for any sort of underlying misogynistic meaning to his kind gestures.

******

The strong smell of flowers hit Sharon just outside the storefront, and she glanced up at the pretty awning hanging over the doorway. "Lotions and Potions," her friend Summer's bath and body shop in Mar Vista. She opened the door, and the floral and spicy scents grew more pronounced. Taking a few steps in, she scanned the room, looking past the displays of soaps, bath salts, body creams, and lotions to see Summer with a customer over in the incense and essential oil section. The little bell that jangled at her entry drew Summer's attention, and when she glanced over and saw who it was, she gave Sharon a smile and a hand gesture indicating that she would be with her in a minute. Sharon nodded and began browsing, lifting and examining the vintage apothecary jars Summer used to carry her product. The old-fashioned jars and antique-looking sepia labels with their intricate designs and calligraphy lettering harkened back to another era as if she was stepping back in time.

Several years ago, this had been a New Age jewelry and clothing store where Summer worked as a clerk. Summer fit right in with today's millenials, often flitting from job to job, but for as long as Sharon had known her, she grew herbs and made homemade soaps and lotions in her house, selling her creations on the weekends at craft fairs and farmer's markets. Then Anabel, the storeowner, allowed her to put a few samples out for sale at the store, and they were a big hit. Soon she had a whole product line for sale. When Anabel decided to sell the store, the first person she approached was Summer, which had taken Summer completely by surprise. She was an artist, after all, not a businesswoman. I mean sure, she practically managed the store, but what did she know about running a business? At least that's what she said to Sharon when they were talking out the pros and cons. It was a moot point, anyway. Summer didn't have the kind of money needed to start a business.

But Sharon did. When her grandparents died, she was bequeathed quite a large inheritance. Some of the money was in a trust, but she had more than enough to lend Summer for the start-up costs. Summer hadn't seen it that way. It had been a battle royal for Sharon to get her best friend to agree to the loan. The very idea of it terrified Summer. What if she didn't succeed? What if she couldn't pay Sharon back? Sharon had gone through hell digging out of the mess Jack created for her financially, and she didn't want to see her have to deal with anything like that again. And most of all, she didn't want the money coming between them. Their friendship was too important. But Sharon prevailed. They worked it all out, with Sharon as an investor, and then they worked together to make Summer's vision become a reality.

The quirky little store was a reflection of its quirky little owner, and it was a hit. Situated only a few miles from both Venice Beach and Santa Monica, it drew in both the unconventional crowd and the well-to-do. Summer paid Sharon back several years ago, but Sharon still took pride in all that she had helped her friend accomplish here.

Grabbing a bottle of her favorite vanilla/jasmine body cream, Sharon glanced back around to see that Summer was still engrossed in conversation with her customer, her light brown curls bouncing on her shoulders with every enthusiastic nod of her head. Rather than stand around waiting, she decided to make her way to Summer's office in the back of the store. She pushed aside the beads that hung in the doorway, in lieu of an actual door, giving a loud sigh at the chaos. As usual, Summer's desk was filled with clutter: folders, papers, coffee mugs, and a bunch of opened boxes. No way could she ever work surrounded by such a mess. In fact, she could already feel the prickles of anxiety at the very idea. She started to move things around to make a spot to set her bag down when an item in one of the boxes caught her eye. Reaching in, she pulled it out, eyes widening with both surprise and curiosity.

"Find anything you like?"

Sharon jumped, nearly dropping the glass object. "Dammit, Summer! "

Summer's wide grin grew even wider. "Gotcha. Either you're losing your cop instincts, or that object holds more than a little interest for you."

"What is it?"

"If I have to tell you, Andy has a real problem."

Sharon flushed. "I know what it is; I just mean why do you have boxes of this stuff?"

"That stuff, as you call it, is luxury personal care products. "

One elegant brow rose skeptically. "Luxury? They're…"

"Glass dildos."

"And again, you have boxes of these, why?"

"I had a distributor come in for a meeting today. She wants me to try selling her line here."

"You're going to sell sex toys? Here? At Lotions and Potions?" Sharon looked so appalled that Summer had to giggle.

"No, I am possibly going to sell luxury personal care items. I told her I would think about it. It's a big and pretty lucrative business right now. Look at them, Sharon, they're works of art."

Sharon looked again at the item in her hand, eyeing it critically. Blown glass with swirls of color, graceful lines. She had to admit, it really did look like a piece of art.

"Much more attractive than the real thing. Am I right?"

Sharon gave a little snort-laugh. "Oh my God, you're right. It is. Though we better not let the guys hear us say that."

"God, no. Men do love their penises, don't they?"

"Mmm…" Sharon hummed affirmatively.

"Almost as much as they love our boobs."

Sharon shook her head with amused affection and another little snort-laugh. She never quite knew what was going to come out of Summer's mouth. In that respect, and in so many more, they were as different as night and day. Oil and water. Chalk and cheese.

Summer was as outgoing and irreverent as Sharon was private and respectful. As unconventional and flighty as Sharon was traditional and responsible. As loud and boisterous, as Sharon was soft-spoken and reserved.

Summer was thrift store boho gauzy tops, flowing skirts, Birkenstocks, and arms covered in bangle bracelets. Sharon was Neiman Marcus pencil skirts, Armani suits, killer heels, and diamond earrings. Summer lifted her arms in worship to the winter solstice while Sharon knelt in reverent prayer at midnight mass. Summer was homeschooling and a childhood spent on a commune. Sharon was private Catholic schools and summers on Nantucket. Summer was Stevie Nicks to Sharon's Grace Kelly.

And yet, they clicked. For 26 years, they had been best friends. From the day that Sharon and Jack moved into their new home in Mar Vista and a bossy little child knocked on their door stating, "I'm five. Do you have any little girls my age I can play with?" With baby Ricky on her hip, Sharon smiled at the little ragamuffin with Popsicle lips and a mop of brown curls and then introduced her to a bashful four-year-old Emily. Within seconds, a harried woman in a tank top and an Indian wrap skirt straight out of the 1970s followed. Since she shared the same wild head of curls with the little moppet now dragging Emily along by the hand, Sharon assumed she was her mother. Indeed, the woman said she was looking for her daughter and, like Sharon, she too had a diapered little boy resting against her shoulder. Sharon introduced herself then invited the gypsy looking woman in for a cup of coffee. It was the beginning of three very important friendships: Sharon and Summer, Emily and Jade, and Ricky and Cody.

Despite their differences in background, personality, and temperament, the two young women easily found common ground. Their kids were the same age, they both loved the arts, and they were both in difficult marriages. Their bond was quick and strong. They spent their days off from work building sandcastles with their kids at the beach, pushing swings at the park, or attending children's reading circles at the library. They babysat for each other, swapped books, and on those rare occasions when they had time for themselves, browsed through art galleries, bookstores, and museums together. Most importantly, since neither had extended family in Los Angeles, they created a much-needed support system for each other. And that was something that became increasingly important, because, within a few years, they were both on their own. Single parents.

Summer came across as flaky, but she was everything Sharon needed in a friend: supportive, warm, honest, and a strong shoulder to cry on-one of a very select group of people whom Sharon allowed to see her vulnerability. They had journeyed together through all the difficulties and heartaches life threw at them, helping each other raise their children, bucking each other up when things seemed bleak, and sharing in each other's joy as they each found success in their professions and new love. From breast-feeding to hot flashes, they had seen each other through it all.

"So, " Summer continued. "Go ahead and take whatever you like. I know you're not a prude. Try one out and let me know what you think."

"I'm good." Sharon placed the item back in the box with a little quirk of her lips. "I've got the real thing now."

"Yeah, well what about these? Could be fun." Summer dangled a pair of handcuffs.

"Again, I've got the real thing."

"Pfff… Those things would hurt. These are love cuffs. Nice and soft. See." Sharon admired the plush cuffs Summer thrust in her face, faux fur with little tiny bows, definitely not standard LAPD gear, but shook her head negatively. "I'm all set." She glanced down at her watch. "Come on, Sum. We really have to get going or we're going to be late."

"Oh, no, we wouldn't want to be late."

Sharon rolled her eyes, ignoring the sarcasm. Fate had surrounded her with smart asses. "No, we wouldn't. So, let's go."

"Okay, okay, don't get your panties in a wad. Just promise me you'll think about it."

Sharon blew out a long-suffering sigh. "Fine, I'll think about it, now let's go."

*****

Sitting in the back corner of the bookstore, Sharon found herself center stage, surrounded by a group of women gushing with excitement over the diamond on her finger, grabbing her hand to look at it and pumping her for all the details of the proposal.

"It's so beautiful, Sharon. " Aggie's eyes went dreamy, her hands in a prayer triangle under her chin, lost in the fairytale of Sharon's proposal. "And how romantic. I can just picture it…A winter wonderland. A romantic sleigh ride through the woods and Andy down on one knee professing his undying love for you-" She broke off, swiftly coming back to reality when everyone burst into laughter. "What?" She defended herself. "I love romance."

"As if we didn't know," Marina scoffed. Whenever it was Aggie's turn to pick their monthly book, it was invariably a romance of some sort.

"Hey, I thought Russians were supposed to have romantic souls." Aggie's protest was made in the soft New Orleans drawl she hadn't lost despite having lived in LA for the past 20 years.

"I had one of those…Four husbands ago." Marina, a ballerina, had defected to the United States in the late seventies and had later opened a ballet studio in LA after retiring from the stage. Sharon met her when she signed Emily up for lessons at her studio after her young daughter had become more serious about studying dance and outgrown her instructor. It was Marina who had seen the talent and drive in Emily and helped her become the principal ballerina she was today. Marina was also cynical and pragmatic and went through men, mostly younger men, the way Andy used to go through younger women.

"Don't listen to her," Sharon said. "You're right, Aggie, Andy couldn't have picked a more romantic way to propose. Hard to believe I found a man whose sense of occasion can actually rival mine. It's certainly a night I will never forget."

"I still can't believe Andy took Gavin to help pick out your ring and not me," Summer sulked. The room went silent, all the women turning to her with wide eyes before erupting in giggles. "What?" She held her hand's open palms up and shrugged in a "what the hell" gesture.

Rachel, a pretty blonde, responded. "Come on, Sum, when it comes to style, there is nobody, other than maybe Roz here, who is more opposite from Sharon than you."

"I'd take exception to that if it weren't 100% true," was Roz's good-natured response. A writer for a comedy sitcom, Roz was notoriously sloppy in her dress, preferring the sweatpants, t-shirts and Converse sneakers she was wearing right now to any other attire. When she was forced to wear something nice, she chose boxy male suits and would never be caught dead in a "girlie" skirt or dress.

"I don't think we're that opposite." Summer's protest drew more peals of laughter.

"Summer…" Rachel lifted her friend's skirt, smirking when she exposed plastic clogs. "You are wearing Crocs. Need I say more?"

"There's nothing wrong with Crocs. They're comfortable." Summer pushed her skirt back over her shoes.

"No offense, I love you to pieces, but they're fugly and Sharon wouldn't be caught dead out in public in them." With her sleek dark blonde bob and stylish clothes, Rachel Garner had far more in common when shopping with Sharon than Summer. Like Andrea, Rachel was a lawyer, now an advisor to Mayor Garcetti. She and Sharon had become friends back when Sharon was promoted to the LAPD's Women's Coordinator position and they had worked together on numerous cases.

"What I don't understand is why you want to get married in the first place. I mean you just got out of a bad marriage, why jump right back in?" The room went silent, this time with tension, not humor. Roz sat back, arms crossed over her chest, seemingly unconcerned by the group's collective disapproval.

"What the hell are you talking about?" It was Summer who quickly jumped to Sharon's defense. "Just out of a bad marriage? She's been done with that ungrateful, immature, disloyal prick for 23 freaking years! Just because she only formally divorced him a couple of years ago doesn't mean-"

"Summer," Sharon tugged on her friend's arm. "It's okay, calm down."

"It's not okay; she has no right to say that. You," she pointed a finger at Roz, "have no idea what she went through. You've known her for what? Four years? You have no right to question her choices. And just because you hate men doesn't mean she has to feel the same."

"Okay, okay, whoa. I didn't mean to start World War III." Roz held her hands up in defeat. "And for the record, I don't hate men. Well, all men anyway. I'm just saying, she doesn't need a man…a husband."

"Roz is right." Sharon agreed, taking a sip of her wine.

"What?" Summer turned to her with confusion.

"She's right. I don't need a man. But I can want one without needing him. And you know what? That makes this the purest relationship I have ever been in, ever. I don't need Andy's money, I don't need his security, I don't need his protection, I don't need him to provide shelter for me, I'm not looking for a father for my children. I am with Andy for one reason only. I love him. It's as easy and as simple as that. I love him and I want to spend the rest of my life with him. And yes, I want the formal commitment of marriage. I know I don't need it, but I want it. And that's my choice." She tapped her fingers on her chest, stressing the point. "I am at a place in my life right now where I can do what I want to do, not what I need to do, and you have no idea how much freedom there is in that for me."

"And we're thrilled for you." Summer's narrowed eyes shot daggers at Roz, causing Sharon to suppress a smile. Summer was about as laid back a person as she knew, however, one thing they did have in common was that you didn't mess with the people they love.

"Yes, we are." Patrice set a gentle hand on Sharon's knee. "Andy is a great guy, and he loves you to the moon and back." As Andy's caregiver while he was recovering from his surgery, Patrice had gotten to know the man and the way he felt about Sharon better than any of them.

Andrea nodded in agreement. "You all know how I feel about marriage, but hell, if I had a guy who looked at me the way Flynn looks at Sharon, who knows?"

Aggie, who had gone off to pilfer through the shelves, returned and flopped down in an oversized chair. She opened the small book she'd been looking for and began reading. "To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable."

"That's C.S Lewis, isn't it? " Sharon recognized the passage from having read a lot of Lewis's work.

Aggie nodded. "From The Four Loves."

"Well, he sums it up rather nicely, doesn't he? " Sharon poured a little more wine in her glass, then sat back. "Loving someone is a risk, no doubt about it, but I will always believe that it is a risk worth taking." She was well aware of how easy it would have been to encase her heart in one of those caskets after Jack, to allow herself to become unreachable. But that just wasn't in her DNA. Barriers, yes, she had certainly erected some of those, but closed off completely? No. She simply had too much love inside her to shut down like that. She knew people often thought she was cold, aloof, unemotional. They never knew it was all a façade, a shield meant to hide the fact that she actually felt things very deeply. She'd had to learn how to contain those emotions, to hide her feelings, but they were there, they were always there. And, had she entombed her heart, she never would have been able to let Rusty in, nor been able to embrace the man who had become the love of her life. Vulnerable? Yes, love made you vulnerable, but the rewards far outweighed any risk.

"I agree, we all need to remain open to love. Now, who's hungry?" Helen, the owner of the bookstore, set to restore order to their opinionated little group. "We'll eat, then dive into the book."

Sharon shot the older woman a grateful look. They might all be friends, but she had never really been comfortable with people dissecting her life.

The food was potluck. Each member of the club took a turn hosting the meeting, but it was always potluck so no one was stuck having to feed the whole group. At the end of each meeting, they drew out of a hat to see if they would be bringing the beverages, an appetizer, or an entrée to the next meeting. Though it wasn't a rule, they often tried to base whatever food they brought on the setting of their book. The only part of the meal they did not draw for was dessert. Mary Agnes Boudreaux McCormack, Aggie, always brought dessert. Twenty years ago, Aggie had moved to Los Angeles after Craig McCormack walked into her bakery in New Orleans and swept the 37-year-old widow off her feet, taking her home with him to California. Aggie opened a pretty little bed and breakfast near Venice Beach and brought with her the French and Creole delicacies of her former home, including the to-die-for beignets she brought to each meeting, regardless of the setting. No one was willing to forgo those beignets.

This month's book was set in Mexico, so there were cheesy nachos with garlic guacamole, sweet potato and black bean taquitos, a creamy taco soup, Mexican chicken and rice, and fish tacos. Sharon had drawn beverages at their last meeting, so, along with a case of seltzer water, she'd brought a few bottles of a Baja Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot blend along with the makings for Mojitos.

"And these," she drew out two large bottles of champagne. "Because we can't celebrate 10 years without a little bubbly. I still can't believe we've been doing this for 10 years." She poured the champagne and passed the glasses around to the ten incredible women sprawled over the sitting area. Ranging in age from their late forties to early sixties, with most in their fifties like Sharon, black, white, and mixed heritage, native Californians and transplants, gay and straight, single and married, they were a diverse group who had come together to bond over a shared love of books. And somewhere along the way, they had become friends. Friends that had seen each other through infidelity, divorce, infertility, empty nests, cancer, adoptions, menopause, job losses, promotions, and new loves gained and lost.

The book club had come about rather organically not long after Helen and her business partner, Jenny, opened "The Book Nook", a combination bookstore/café a little over 10 years ago. Helen's husband, Christopher, had accepted the position of visiting professor at USC, and the British couple fell in love with the climate and laid back lifestyle of Southern California. So, when a permanent position became available, they decided to leave the gray skies and rain of England behind and settle in the land of sunshine and surfers. At the time, Jenny was a stay at home mom whose marriage had fallen apart after her battle with breast cancer. Divorced, her children in college, and cancer-free, she was ready to embrace a new life when Helen became a patron of the coffeehouse where she was working as a barista. Soon they were discussing a joint venture. A few years later, their bookstore/cafe became reality, and Sharon, Summer, and Rachel became some of their first customers. Recommendations of authors and long chats over coffee regarding the books they read or were interested in reading had Jenny suggesting the idea of starting a book club.

For Sharon, it was perfect timing. Ricky had just gone off to Stanford, and with Emily across the country at NYU, she was reeling from the effects of her empty nest. For 21 years, her life had revolved around her children and their needs, car-pooling, cooking, laundry, helping with homework, getting them to practices, cheering them on at games and recitals, and most recently visiting college campuses in preparation for their futures. And then suddenly they were just…gone. The house was too quiet, too empty, too filled with memories. And, with her children gone, the fact that she did not have a love life only became more pronounced, her bed suddenly emptier, colder to the touch. And it didn't help that she was starting to feel like she was in a rut at the PSB. Melancholy enveloped her in its insidious web, eating away at her, telling her that her best days were now in the past.

Later, she would find that she actually enjoyed the peace and solitude of being on her own, the freedom of not having to organize anyone but herself. But in the beginning, the loneliness was crushing. Both Rachel and Summer commiserated with her because they were going through the same thing. It was Marina who encouraged her to use that time to focus on herself and do some of the things she'd wanted to do but hadn't had time for in the past.

For many years, Sharon had helped out a few nights a month at St. Joseph's soup kitchen, bringing Emily and Ricky along with her, which was how she'd gotten to know Aggie. Now, she began volunteering at the church's domestic violence shelter, counseling the women on their rights, teaching them how to defend themselves, and helping them to find jobs. She coached them through the interview process and helped them select outfits from donated clothes-including her own-that would help them look professional. Eventually, she ended up on the board of directors. She also became the LAPD's liaison with "The Sunshine Kids Foundation" helping kids with cancer, worked with Rachel to raise money for "Emily's List", sold her house and bought the condo, and then she joined the book club.

It was the perfect hobby and helped her to expand her group of friends. Other than Gavin, Summer, and Rachel, she didn't really have any close friends, confidantes. It wasn't that she was anti-social, she had many friendly acquaintances: Marina, Aggie, a few women and men at work. But, the truth was, she had never had the time to cultivate deep friendships. As a single mom, she was usually either working or taking care of her kids. And where most people made friends on the job, her work within the PSB made that impossible. Barriers were essential in her position, and that had not been easy, especially in the beginning. Even though she'd always been a bit reserved, she was not a naturally unfriendly person, so having to close off that side of her had taken time and effort. But she'd become good at it. Maybe too good. Once her walls were built, it was hard to let people back in.

The book club started out small, and though it had not been intentional, they were all women: Helen, Sharon, Summer, Rachel, Jenny, Marina, and Aggie. Roz, Patrice, and Andrea were later additions. Once the only women thing was established, they decided to keep it that way, which pleased Sharon. She was surrounded by men all day long, worked in a profession dominated by men, and she didn't have a problem with that. For the most part, she liked working with men, liked their direct ways, and had always felt that the best teams had a combination of women and men. On the other hand, it was nice to spend time with her women friends and immerse herself in the female perspective. It was also easier to be herself and let her hair down without the male/female dynamic, without feeling like she had to prove that she was tough enough, strong enough, smart enough, the way she did at work, every… single… day. Around these women, she could express her emotions, and frankly, her sexuality, without being embarrassed or viewed as weak.

"To ten years!" Helen raised her glass of champagne.

"To ten years!" The group chorused.

TBC

[devinsfm]

joe keery. cis male. he/him.  ／  jack devin just pulled up blasting video killed the radio star by the buggles — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty - four year old radio show host, i’ve heard they’re really impulsive, but that they make up for it by being so captivating. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say obscure vintage horror comics, blurry photographs of mysterious figures in the woods, and vivid descriptions of spine - chilling tales  . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( sam, 23, est, she/her )

hey there, demons ! *ba tum tss* i’m sam and i never do this, but i really felt like it was time for a change, so i drew lots of inspiration from some of my favorite ocs and i love what i’ve come up with ! character info is under the cut and please feel free to message me if you would like to plot !

i. stats

𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢: jackson willard devin

𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰: jack, spooky guy, the night watchman 

𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫: salem, massachusetts

𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥: ocotber 31st, 1995

𝔷𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔠: scorpio

𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: demisexual

𝔬𝔠𝔠𝔲𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: host of the graveyard shift, a radio program airing every weeknight from 12am to 5am

𝔭𝔬𝔰. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: captivating, witty, resolute. 

𝔫𝔢𝔤. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: impulsive, gauche, naive.

ii. history

jackson willard “jack” devin was born on halloween day ( yes, really ) in salem massachusetts ( yes, really ). his mother stayed home with him as he was growing up while his father is a boston cop turned sheriff of the county and he’s an only child.

outside of the popular tourist spots, his hometown has a very close - knit, stuck in the 80s vibe. it’s the sort of place where everyone knows everyone for their entire lives because no one ever leaves and no one new ever moves in. phone and internet signals are nearly impossible to come by, so the local arcade and the video store still have quite a booming business in the year 2020. jack grew up in a not - so - typical small town suburban gothic environment, his dad’s income being just enough for them to get by every month.

he was an energetic kid who cycled through all sorts of interests, trying out everything from little league ( disaster ) to music lessons ( not as much of a disaster, but he wound up getting bored of it ). nothing seemed to really stick until he got his first horror comic : a vintage issue of tales from the crypt with tattered, yellowing pages. he was five years old and paid five cents for it at an elderly neighbor’s yard sale and from that moment on he was hooked. it started with the comics, but he quickly expanded his horizons to movies, books, and television in the genre of horror.

he got intro drawing and that was the only thing besides his newfound interest in horror that he could sit still for. at first he would just try to re - draw the panels in his comic books, but soon he was drawing anything and everything that caught his interest and he was getting good. he was being homeschooled by his mother at the time, but once friends and family and, well, everyone took notice of his skill, they were encouraging his parents to nurture his talent.

his parents fought about it. his dad didn’t see the value in his skill and wanted him to instead focus on academics, aspiring towards his son one day becoming a lawyer or a businessman or even following in his footsteps. jack never wanted that for himself. he was homeschooled by his mom up until then and she believed in him. it was with her blessing that he would go to a real school for the first time at the age of fourteen, starting off his freshman year at a high school that was a thirty minute train ride away in boston and catered exclusively to youth who demonstrated an exceptional talent in some area of the fine arts.

jack did well in school, but his grades probably would have been a lot better still if he didn’t start purposely acting out as his relationship with his dad got worse and worse. he started skipping classes, getting caught trespassing in cemeteries at 2am, and smoking a lot of weed. 

when it came time for college, jack planned to attend art school. he swears he did. he looked a few schools on the west coast to get away from his dad for a few years yikes and planned to apply, but on the deadline date he got so high that he forgot to submit his portfolios. yes, really.

he loaded up his van ( a turquiose monstrosity he painted to look like the mystery machine ) and headed out to california anyway after telling his parents that he would be attending UCLA. of course, they quickly found it that it was a lie and his dad was furious. the two got into a huge fight over the phone and things were said. the result is that jack and his father haven’t spoken to each other ever since. 

he did lots of odd jobs while he was on the road and basically lived in his van, which didn’t change right away when he decided to settle in LA, but he eventually got a job fetching coffee for the late night employees at a local radio station.

it was the typical, cliché story : the regular late night host called out of work at the last minute, there was no one else around and they were going to be on air in ten seconds. jack was thrown in front of the microphone and told to think fast !

he did, and the listeners loved him for it. whether it was his ramblings about horror movies or his thick boston accent or his reckless use of swear words on live radio, he turned out to be a massive hit. the successful night earned him a gig as an occasional substitute deejay, and with each broadcast he grew more and more popular, and about two years ago he was finally given his own program.

the graveyard shift is a radio program that airs every weeknight from 12am - 5am in the los angeles area and on apps such as iheartradio. jack hosts the show as his ( thinly veiled ) alter ego the night watchmen and discusses topics such as the paranormal, conspiracy theories, and all things horror. it’s one of the most popular programs of the time slot in the country.

it’s something that he never expected or picturing himself doing, but now he can’t imagine doing anything else. he’s become really passionate about revitalizing the field and bringing radio into the 21st century. he signed a HUGE contract with the studio when his show first started and now he’s a quite well known radio personality in the area and across the country.

iii. extras

huge stoner. high as fuck 90% of the time, and the other 10% of the time he’s probably still high, just not as fuck. 

well known for his on air antics. he’ll light a joint in the middle of his radio show, he’ll prank call a friend and broadcast it to the entire city, he’ll curse in every single sentence and skate by on the after hours excuse when he’s reprimanded for it. he’s so outlandish and bizarre and like nothing that’s ever been heard on the radio before, and it just draws people in.

he often seems shy in person, but it’s more like he’s just a little socially awkward, something which also shines through in occasional non - malicious but blunt remarks and general lack of regard for what people think of him. he really just...doesn’t care.

genuinely seems to believe it’s either halloween day and / or the year 1986 at any given moment as that’s about as recent as his pop culture references get. he’s never heard of the k*rdashians, he doesn’t know what the mcu is, and the phrase yeet means absolutely nothing to him. mention any of it to him and he’ll just stare blankly bc he honestly doesn’t have a clue.

HOWEVER, he did start the area 51 meme from last summer.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

still draws. especially if he has to still for a stretch of time, then he’ll take out his latest sketchbook ( he goes through a lot of them ) and start doodling. he’s still quite good, mostly in his favored comic - esque style.

BIG CHAOTIC ENERGY and ZERO IMPULSE CONTROL

a chatterbox with friends but don’t be fooled...he’s been giving his own dad the silent treatment for almost seven ( 7 ) years now. it’s his preferred method of expressing anger towards someone because he isn’t really a fan of confrontation, but he’s maybe a liiiittle bit stubborn.

most of the time he’s a really easygoing person, a good friend and very loyal to the people he cares about. well - meaning, not the best at advice but he’s more likely to try and cheer a person up anyway. 

he has a pet pied ball python named the crypt keeper ( tkc for short ) who he sometimes just carries with him because he likes to just chill wrapped around jack’s hand and arm. 

iv. wanted connections

maternal or paternal cousins ( their grandparents probably live in boston or new england but otherwise anything goes for this )

close friends

friends

guests on his radio show 

fans / haters of his radio show

people who don’t like him / find him annoying

exes ( 1 - 2, can be on good or bad terms )

“casually dating” but it might get real complicated soon - allie james

( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with stuff, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )

[ash-arts-a-thing]

Thank you again! I'm sorry to spam you with asks, but I'm genuinely curious, how long have you been drawing if I may ask? And how long did it take for you to develop your style? I've been getting into drawing for the past few years, but I stopped last year because of college and stuff, buttttttt I bought myself some new sketchbooks yesterday, and I'd love to hear some words of wisdom to kinda help me get back into it! :)

You’re welcome and don’t worry about it lol!

I’ve been drawing for 13 years I think? I only really devolved my ‘sharper edged’ style that I like so much like maybe 2 years ago? I lose track of time very easily :’) but really I just drew a shit ton and took inspiration from other artists.

My personal fave artist is my best friend @oncielover1 , she encourages me to draw a lot and if it wasn’t for her I probably wouldn’t have gotten as good as I am now. She’s my biggest inspiration tbh.

So the best advice I could give you is just practice and draw what you want! Honestly I always found it the most fun to draw when I was doing it to make myself or others happy. Also remember to take breaks, unless you have deadlines then don’t burn yourself out, just have a good time!

Also references can help a lot too 👀 I’ve got a folder for em on my phone so if I’m struggling a bit I can pull something up to help shape a hand or map the shape/pose of a torso.

Oh hold up! I forgot the most important things I’ve had to slowly teach myself over the years! Do NOT compare the quality of your artwork to somebody else. If you want to improve don’t put yourself down and tell yourself that it’s not as good as somebody else’s. You can look to others for inspiration on improving, but don’t make yourself feel like garbage just because your drawing doesn’t look like another persons. This ain’t a competition!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

After more than a decade, Cecil Castellucci and Jim Rugg's YA classics The Plane Janes are back!

[I adored Cecil Castellucci and Jim Rugg's YA graphic novels The Plain Janes and Janes in Love, which were the defining titles for the late, lamented Minx imprint from DC comics. A decade later, the creators have gotten the rights back and there's a new edition Little, Brown. We're honored to have an exclusive transcript of Cecil and Jim in conversation, discussing the origins of Plain Janes. Make no mistake: this reissue is amazing news, and Plain James is an underappreciated monster of a classic, finally getting another day in the spotlight. If you haven't read it, consider yourself lucky, because you're about to get another chance. -Cory]

Cecil to Jim: How interesting or difficult was it for you to go back to match a style from 11 years ago?

Jim: It was impossible!

When I started drawing Janes Attack Back, I was so anxious. You can’t unlearn how to ride a bike and a lot of my style from 11 years ago included my limitations as an artist. I hope I’m much better now than I was then. But when it comes to style, I just couldn’t quite do it the same. After a page or two, I stopped trying. I figured that as long as the character designs, grayscaling, and lettering were consistent that it would be a 90 percent match. Combined with the different ink colors, I think it flows pretty well. But it was definitely tough to figure out in the beginning.

It was interesting for me to revisit the original art and to get back into characters that I had spent so much time with, but that was over 10 years ago. It was a very strange feeling in my head. Nostalgic but also filtered through thousands of pages of progress since I drew the first two books. It was like studying a different artist, trying to get back to that style.

How much of an issue was this from a writing perspective?

Cecil: It was the same!

When we first did Plain Janes it was my first time moving from prose to comics and I remember that I called you up crying once because moving the story from panel to panel was so difficult to figure out at first. Comics is not prose! But now I have a better understanding of comics and I would write those books way differently now. So it was hard to go back to being more naive. But it was an interesting challenge for sure.

Cecil to Jim: We had sort of hammered out this story as a four book thing back in 200. For Janes Attack Back, we compressed. Is there anything that we left out that you kind of wish we’d been able to keep?

Jim: I’m very happy with how this turned out. I remember we planned to have the Janes all go their separate ways for the summer. I think you did a terrific job compressing that. We still see them do their own things and drift apart. I like these characters so our original plans were fun--seeing them on their own allowed a different side of them to emerge.

But I think the story works best in this final version. I don’t miss the longer solo adventures. Although I refer to the Janes as my X-Men, since they are a team, and team books often have spinoffs where characters have solo adventures. So maybe a longer solo adventure would be fun. I did draw quite a bit of Brain Jane at space camp many years ago! But overall, I say no. I’m so happy with this final story that I don’t regret anything we cut to make this final story! Who knows, we could always follow the Janes as they go off to different colleges and post high school adventures...

Cecil: I’m glad I have those Brain Jayne space camp pages. But yeah, I don’t miss their solo stuff. I’m glad that we just really follow Main Jane. But it’s interesting because I think that kind of goes with the question above. I think writing that whole Janes Go Summer was the book that I would never write now because I’ve learned that you can just go to the next best part and you don’t have to tell every part. Like moving time from panel to panel.

Cecil to Jim: What was the hardest thing to draw? And which art attack did you love the most?

Jim: Not exactly an art attack, but I think my favorite art thing was when Jane visits the museum in France and she appears in several paintings. That was fun to draw, but also it fit the story perfectly. As a cartoonist, that’s the best I can hope for--when the art gets to shine within the context of the story. That moment feels magical to me--in terms of both the story and the art.

Does the school dance count as an art attack? I like flowers so when the gang covered their dresses in flowers and Brain Jane hit them with a spotlight, that was something I enjoyed drawing.

Cars are hard to draw. Kissing is hard to draw. Crowds are tough. Perspective...I could go on and on!

Jim to Cecil: Craft--is there a difference between writing a novel and writing a graphic novel? If so, what are those differences?

Cecil: There are more words in prose. That seems obvious, but it’s a big deal because that’s what you paint your pictures with. So you can really dive into the minutiae of a moment but it’s very different than with comics where you dive into a moment because you are really dictating what you want the brain to pay attention to. And you have to really understand that each reader is going to have a wildly different understanding of what that picture should be. In comics, it’s right there. So you can be very specific and focused and the words are not really important. They are but I throw out a lot of them.

I think I over-write my script as a scaffolding for you, the artist, so you don’t have to do all the mental heavy lifting. But the best thing about comics is the throwing out of words. And silence. You can use words to describe silence but it’s still very busy and loud. But in a comic, a silent page or panel speaks for itself, and you can have a pause and rest that you can’t have in prose. I love writing both and that is why I really think that a story tells you how it best wants to be told. Because prose and comics have different gifts in terms of telling the tale.

Jim to Cecil: I sometimes describe The PLAIN Janes as my X-Men comic since it is a “team” book. So I’m curious if you have a favorite character in The PLAIN Janes?

Cecil: Oh! That’s so hard! I mean of course it is a team book and I love that you always referred to it as an X-men comic. They are superheroes in my mind; each overcoming things inside of them and bringing their own special skill to solve a problem.

But it’s too hard to pick which one I love! I mean, I identify with all of them for different reasons at different times. I guess that is what makes a good team. But I do have a soft spot for both Brain Jayne and Theater Jane. I think that they both have such distinct voices and points of view that they were fun foils to write for Main Jane.

Do you have a favorite?

Jim: I love Theater Jane’s exuberance! And of course there are things I love about all of them. Good job on giving them unique traits and personality. But I would say in the end, I enjoyed Payne. She was a foil and heel and that brought the best out of all of the Janes. She was like a mirror that forced the Janes, especially Main Jane to really think about her values and what she wanted to do in her art practice. We had talked about Payne for a decade. Seeing her in action and seeing Main Jane play off of her was the best. Plus her anger at the status quo is something I remember feeling as a teenager.

Jim to Cecil: Write what you know, right? With that in mind, what parts of The PLAIN Janes are closest to your own personal experiences/truth?

Cecil: Yes. Although the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, of course it is put through the ringer and shook up to come out as something very different. Like Main Jane, I was in a bombing when I was young. The IRA blew up a stage where the British Army band was playing. I was in the most damaged house, a beer museum. A window shattered above me and it was very scary. (I write about this incident in my memoir, Girl on Film).

I remember the next day, my family took me to an art museum and there were huge skylight windows everywhere, and I thought they would explode down on me. So I kept focusing on the art. And so while no one was injured in the attack that I was in, and I did not find a John Doe, I certainly found solace in art when I most needed it.

Another thing that came from my life directly was just engaging in street art and loving conceptual art. How that kind of art can say so much and be so profound. I’ve talked before about walking through subway stations filled with Keith Haring chalk drawings in the 80s and that being so inspiring. That idea of art being everywhere and being a delightful surprise. The core truth of The PLAIN Janes is that ART SAVES. That is probably the most true thing I believe.

How about you? Was there anything that you brought to the book that was close to your experience or truth?

Cecil: I was an art kid in school, so that made sense. And also the feeling, like I was an outsider and wanted more than school and a small town could provide. Some of the art class stuff brings back memories. The biggest thing for me were the friendships. The way the Janes pulled for each other and supported each other as they followed their own interests. I’ve been lucky to have that kind of support in my life. Some of those moments felt true to my own experience. And yes, I believe art saved my life--whether it was the stories and art I consumed or made. It had a huge impact on my life and helped through good and bad times.

The Plain Janes [Cecil Castellucci and Jim Rugg/Little Brown]

https://boingboing.net/2020/01/07/janes-janes-janes.html

[hazyheel]

WWE Summerslam 2019 Predictions

Ah, the second biggest show of the year. Up until last week, I was actually worried about this card a bit. There weren’t a lot of huge matches, despite how good a lot of them look, they were just a bit lacking in star power. That was until Trish Stratus was brought in for a huge match with Charlotte, and Dolph Ziggler was fed to Goldberg to make him look good. Even still, there are only ten matches this year, and a lot of titles that aren’t being defended. No tag team titles are on the card despite them being in a feud with each other, and the Women’s tag was bumped to Raw. Ali vs. Nakamura for the IC title was blown off in an okay match at Smackville, while Black vs. Zayn was given away on Smackdown. I have a feeling that we will be getting a Roman Reigns match with either Daniel Bryan, Rowan or Buddy Murphy, which will make eleven, but that still leaves room for one more pre show match if they want to get some people on the card. But it looks like a pretty good show all things considered, and I am definitely excited. Here are my predictions.

We will start things off with Finn Balor vs. The Fiend, Bray Wyatt. Wyatt has been reimagined as someone possessed by a demon, trying to act like a friendly guy so people will let him in. He came out and attacked Finn Balor as his first victim, before also attacking Mick Foley and Kurt Angle on sepearate weeks. Balor challenged Wyatt to settle things at Summerslam, which was accepted. Pretty simple stuff, and easy prediction. Wyatt wins here. He has a new gimmick where he needs to be incredibly dominant so that he can move up into the main event where he belongs, and Balor has been said to be taking some time off after the match. So I could see them having a nice little match, ending in Wyatt seriously injuring Balor for a few months, and then a possible rematch at the Royal Rumble or Mania, Demon vs. Fiend. That’s how I would book it anyway. We’ve seen these two fight before and it wasn’t awesome, but Wyatt has a new lease on life, so the new fire in him may lead to a better match. I’m excited either way. 

Then we have Kevin Owens vs. Shane McMahon. If Owens loses, he is forced to quit WWE. This stems from a conflict between the two where Owens is the voice of the fans. He said that Shane takes up too much TV time, and is taking away from a whole bunch of more deserving stars. So he said that if he can’t beat Shane, he’d rather quit. Shane is obviously going to stack the deck with McIntyre and Elias, but I think Owens pulls out the win. He certainly isn’t on his way out, and they know that X-Pac heat doesn’t work as well if they do it all the damn time. Shane should lose and spend some time away from the product. It’s what the fans want, and it would be for the best. I doubt this will be good. 

Into a legend match, it is Dolph Ziggler vs. Goldberg. It was a winding road to get to this, so bare with me. It started with Ziggler on Miz TV insulting his wife for no reason, so that ended in a brawl. Then Miz had Shawn Michaels on, and Ziggler insulted both of them, saying that legends take up too much TV time and they can’t let go of their glory days. Any time they get in the ring it is embarrassing, and he constantly referenced Goldberg when he talked about that. That is a reference to his piss poor showing at Super Showdown. He and Michaels started to fight after Michaels called Ziggler a knockoff Shawn Michaels, taking out Miz in the process and ending with Ziggler superkicking Michaels.  So then a match between Miz and Ziggler was scheduled. Any time that Ziggler was interviewed in the ensuing weeks, he would crap all over Goldberg for no real reason, and he started to imitate the sweet chin music when he did a superkick. Eventually, he and Miz went to sign a contract for their match, which was weird because it was a very filler match I thought, but Miz told him afterwards that the match wasn’t with him. Everyone’s mind went to Michaels, who was also there for some reason, but then Goldberg came out. He signed the contract as an irate Ziggler ran around ringside until Michaels gave him the sweet chin music. Basically, this match is to make Goldberg look good after an awful Saudi Arabia match. Undertaker did it in the tag match in Extreme Rules, and now Goldberg will do it. The match will probably only be a couple minutes, five tops if they are smart, and Goldberg will have a dominant victory. Ziggler’s selling will be in overdrive, so that’ll be fun to watch, and it actually makes me look forward to this. 

The next match is another legend match in a similar vein: Charlotte Flair vs. Trish Stratus. Trish was on a segment of the king’s court, when Charlotte interrupted. She was furious that she was not on the Summerslam card, so she challenged Stratus to prove that she is the best Women’s wrestler in WWE history. She said that Stratus always wanted one more match, but it is a delusion, and she can’t hang with the women of today. They aren’t models anymore, they are athletes. Stratus said that maybe she can’t hang, but she wants to try. She wants to prove to the fans, her family, and herself that she is still good enough. It is an inspirational story of a veteran against a cocky young upstart, similar to Ziggler and Goldberg but better told. Charlotte should get the win here, because it is a huge match for her, and a win over a legend like Stratus would be great for her career. I think that this will be pretty good, because Stratus wrestled about a year ago, and she was pretty good, so I bet this will at least be okay. 

Into the first of the championship matches, we have the Cruiserweight Championship match: champion Drew Gulak vs. challenger Oney Lorcan. Not a lot of story behind this, because the challenger would have been Mike Kanellis had he beaten Drake Maverick in the unsanctioned match, but he didn’t. So, Maverick put together a Six Pack challenge for #1 contendership, which Lorcan won. That is about it. Both are hard hitting brawlers that can get technical if they want to. I think that Gulak will get the win simply because it isn’t his time to lose yet. Not enough story to make it meaningful, but it should be a pretty good match. Maybe the cruiserweights on the pre-show can steal the show like they have so many times this year. 

In an Extreme Rules rematch, Ricochet takes on AJ Styles for the United States Championship. The two have been feuding since Styles beat Ricochet in a non title match, proceeding to lose the follow up title match and turning heel on Ricochet. They fought at Extreme Rules with Styles winning the belt, and he and the OC continued to taunt Ricochet afterwards. Ricochet then won a gauntlet match for #1 contendership, defeating Andrade after coming out last. The two just hate each other, because Ricochet loves to stand up to bullies and that is what AJ has become. I think Styles wins here to keep pushing the OC, but I bet he will drop it back to Ricochet after some time apart, maybe even in a ladder match. This is the match I am most looking forward to, and I think it will steal the show. They have the capacity, so let’s see it. 

Then we have Bayley vs. Ember Moon for the Smackdown Women’s Championship. This is a shockingly simple story, with Moon winning a tag match where they teamed together, and Bayley named her the contender. She wanted new names in the mix, and that is what she got. Afterwards, tensions grew as Moon nailed Bayley with an eclipse after a match one week, and Bayley hit a Bayley to belly after another. Bayley did protect Moon from Natalya during an attack, but Moon was wary. This is a dream match of mine that I always wanted to see, but I think Bayley is going to win. I want Moon, but she was pushed out of nowhere. She needs more build if she is gonna be a strong champion. They could put it on her and build her up afterwards, but I don’t think that is likely. They are aiming for a good match rather than an unpredictable one, and that is what they will get. 

Next is Natalya vs. Becky Lynch in a submission match for the Raw Women’s Championship. I actually liked the build to this. Nattie won a fatal 4-way elimination match almost out of nowhere to earn this shot, mostly because she is Canadian and Summerslam is in Toronto. However, the feud has built great, with Lynch telling Nattie that she will destroy her in the match, and that Lynch being around is just what Nattie’s career needs. Nattie said that she has the hometown advantage, and she will carry that wave to a victory. Things slowly escalated to attacks during training and after matches, culminating in Nattie refusing to release a sharpshooter on Lynch during a tag match and getting disqualified. She started to act very erratically, pushing over Trish Stratus when she tried to pull Nattie off of Lynch. On Smackdown, Nattie locked Ember Moon in a sharpshooter on the outside, causing a double countout, and pushing Bayley when she ran out for the save. The friendship has disintegrated, and it is awesome. it became a submission match when they started yelling at each other about who can tap out whom. But like I said, Nattie is only in this spot because she is Canadian, so she will lose. I think this will be a really good match, but she will lose. Becky is retaining here because she needs a rematch with Rousey, one on one, before they can even think about taking the title off of her. 

And in the WWE Championship match, it is Randy Orton challenging Kofi Kingston. The match came to be after Orton pinned Kingston in a 6 man tag, so naturally he got a title opportunity. However, the story goes back further than that. In 2009, ten years ago, Kofi had just as much popularity as he does now, and he was headed into the championship picture, where Orton held the title. However, during a match, Orton repeatedly called Kingston stupid in an attempt to humiliate him. From that day forward, Orton used his privilege as champion to keep Kingston out of that league. (Outside of kayfabe, Kingston was supposed to stay on the mat to get punted in the head, but he got up and Orton got really mad, and cancelled his push using his backstage influence.) So Kingston could’ve had his world title shot a decade ago if it wasn’t for Orton. Orton countered by saying that he was the whole reason he is champion now anyway, because he injured Ali before Elimination Chamber, allowing Kingston to take his place, and Kofimania ensued. He also said that Kingston isn’t good enough to be in the world Championship picture, and he is taking a load off of his back by taking his championship. Good story, and I think Kingston needs to win here. Kingston should lose the championship soon, but not to Orton. He needs to win here to get his revenge. If Orton wins, then everything he said was true, and being held back was perfectly fine. Kingston needs this win more than any other he has had in his title reign, and he will get it. Could be a pretty good match too. 

And in the main event, Seth Rollins challenges Brock Lesnar for the Universal Championship. Their story stretches back to 2015, when Rollins cashed in his Money in the Bank contract on him and Reigns during their WWE Championship match at Wrestlemania, pinning Reigns to win. Fast forward to 2019, when Rollins won the Royal Rumble, and went on to challenge and beat Lesnar at mania again, this time for the Universal Championship. He did it using a low blow, so kinda cheating, but no one cared. Rollins defeated AJ Styles once, and Baron Corbin like three or four times during his reign, while Lesnar was busy winning the Money in the Bank briefcase at the titular pay per view, albeit in a bullshit way by just walking down at the end and beating up Ali. After an intense Championship match at Extreme Rules, where Baron Corbin gave Lynch an end of days, prompting Rollins to destory him with a chair and several curb stomps, Lesnar cashed in his briefcase and regained his championship. Rollins didn’t stay down though. He won a ten man all star battle royal to qualify for a rematch, and Lesnar put him through hell in the ensuing weeks. He beat him down with like 6 F5′s every week, even giving them onto a chair and a stretcher. But Rollins refused to stay down. Even last week, when he limped down to the ring in defiance to Lesnar’s cocky attitude, and he was massacred once again, further injuring already destroyed ribs. Rollins vowed to win after the attack, saying that this is his livelihood and he needs it. This is a very different story from the one at Wrestlemania. Before he was confident and calm, now he is desperate and an underdog. I think this match will go much longer, and I think that Rollins will win. It’s a longshot, because Lesnar eats underdogs for breakfast, but I feel it. I think that it could be good, but it also could just be a bunch of finishers and a pin like at Wrestlemania. I just can’t stand Lesnar as champion, I need it gone. 

So, those are my predictions. Seems like a show that has a lot of potential, but could go either way. I just really need Rollins to win. Lesnar with a title is bad for business. It really hurts the TV product. But anyway, this is what I think will happen, and I look forward to the show. 

[itsclydebitches]

You did a thing in your Cloqwork collection about ice skating? It's winter so could you maybe do a drabble about that Oz and Qrow?

I did! For those of you who are wondering, the fic referred to is here. (I don’t have the patience right now to try and work around tumblr’s stupid link policy...) This can probably be read on its own though. All you really need to know is that Ozpin is a figure skater hurtling towards retirement and Qrow is his new boyfriend. This takes place a few weeks after the first fic and, writing gods willing, I’ll post a story that links the two at some point :D

“So on the scale of legality about where are we at right now?”

“Entirely legal.”

“…lame.”

Ozpin chuckled, pulling the spare key out of his pocket and dangling it high for Qrow’s inspection. No, he hadn’t broken into their favorite rink, but it was only because Maria was an absolute darling and had granted him personal access years ago. In all honesty though, Ozpin might have actually broken in if necessary. It had been that kind of week.

Ah, but Qrow’s hand trailed lightly along his back as he passed him and a bit of the tension drained away.

“It’s weird,” Qrow said, surveying the empty ice; the darkened cafe and the locked-down skate exchange. “This place is always stuffed full of kids. I’m used to, you know, lots of screaming. Parents throwing fits about how expensive shit is. Never thought I’d see it this quiet.” He ran his fingers along the plexiglass now and inexplicably Ozpin shivered. “It’s very…”

“Peaceful,” he finished.

“I was gonna go with creepy, but okay.”

Ozpin threw his head back and let out a startled laugh, the sound bouncing off the high ceiling and settling around their shoulders. Oh yes, he was glad he’d brought Qrow here tonight.

He hadn’t had a laugh like that in ages.

“It is not creepy,” Ozpin insisted, seating himself on the nearest bench and stretching out his legs. “I come here often at night. Usually for extra practice, but sometimes to just… be. A library or the skate rink. They’re the only two places I’ve ever been able to truly relax, and only one of them has provided me with a purpose in life. People often find peace in running water or falling leaves. Why not ice?”

Qrow wandered over to stand between Ozpin’s legs, nudging them open with his knee until he fit there, snug. “You’re so weird,” he said, but it had none of the hostility that Ozpin had grown used to. From competitors. His parents. Even Glynda on occasion. “This place smells like piss and cheap disinfectant. It’s cold even by a rink’s standards. I’m pretty sure I just stepped in gum.”

Ozpin nodded. “It’s wonderful.”

“Oh my god,” and Qrow finally leaned down to kiss him.  

It was such a comforting clash: the old familiarity of this rink combined with the newness of Qrow’s lips against his. The position itself was awkward as hell—Qrow forced to bend too far and Ozpin with nothing to lean against, long legs continually bumping—but that only added to his joy. The moment felt real.

Qrow slid calloused fingers into Ozpin’s hair and he sighed, pulling back so he could focus on the new sensation.  

“Mm. I don’t normally like people touching my hair.”

Qrow’s hand jumped away.

“Normally,” Ozpin emphasized, drawing him back. Qrow’s expression remained wary until he placed his hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to play with the strands there. The question in Qrow’s eyes was obvious though and Ozpin shrugged, gaze shifting away.

“I hadn’t intended to let it grow out,” he said. “It’s simply amazing what one loses track of when training for competitions.”

“Like food,” Qrow muttered. Ah. So he wouldn’t be letting that go anytime soon.

Ozpin inclined his head. “Yes. Like food. By the time I was focused enough to schedule an appointment Glynda had already decided that long hair worked for my brand. Something about femininity, standing out… I hardly know. I was devoted to pleasing her and immediately agreed, but good heavens the upkeep was horrendous.” Ozpin’s mouth twisted down and his shoulders tensed again. Qrow was immediately leaning closer. “Do you know long it takes a team to style long hair in a manner that will last through multiple high speed turns?”

“Nope.”

“Too fucking long, Qrow.”

It was his turn to let out a laugh, though Qrow tended to keep the sound close, slapping a hand over his mouth and holding everything in until he shook. It wasn’t often that Ozpin cursed and in the recent weeks he’d learned to use his exclamations sparingly. For the simple reason that it got him reactions like this.

Ozpin shook his head. He reached out to squeeze Qrow’s hips. “I’d cut it all off if I could.”

“Really?”

“Indeed.” 

“So why don’t you?”

…What?

Qrow’s expression had moved from generally amused to specifically amused—at him. It was what Ozpin was quickly beginning to recognize as the Oh God My Boyfriend Is Stupid expression.

“You’re retiring,” Qrow said, enunciating each syllable like he was speaking to a child.

“…I’m retiring.”

It honestly hadn’t occurred to him. The tiny freedoms that came after making that call to Glynda and Ozpin sat, a little stunned, as Qrow moved to the other end of the bench. He’d thrown his purse over there—and yes, it was a purse. He didn’t know what the hell else to call the small bag he carried around with him everywhere. Yang might be an animal who was perfectly content to live in one outfit and eat random food she found on the sidewalk, but Ruby was a little princess who demanded any and every kind of amenity. Qrow had started carrying a wide variety of supplies with him ever since she’d come home from the hospital.

Small first aid kit. Emergency cell. Emergency cookies. Wipes. A pad for the day it was needed. Stuff like that.

Qrow also had a small pair of scissors.

He raised them and snipped at the air, a grin growing. “Whaddya say? Feel like being impulsive?”

“Here?” Ozpin’s eyes blew wide. “Now?”

“Anything stopping you?”

“I thought we were going to skate?”

Qrow snorted. “Please. Like I honestly thought you brought me to the empty rink at 1:00am to skate.”

He… had. Though perhaps it would benefit Ozpin to be a little less honest about exactly how inept he was at all this. Dating. ...Flirting. He kept his expression carefully neutral as Qrow approached with the scissors.

They were, impossibly, in a rather perfect position. The bench put Ozpin at just the right height for Qrow to work and the plexiglass provided a slight reflection for him to see in. Any mess they made would be cleaned up before the rink opened in the early afternoon.

Ozpin swallowed hard as Qrow parted his hair and drew the ends up for inspection. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Actually yeah. Tai’s a cheapskate.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“It’s true!” Qrow lifted half his hair over one shoulder and fanned out the rest. “We’re not poor, but we’re not swimming in cash either. Especially with two girls who’ll need college funds someday.” His voice had gone quiet and focused and it occurred to Ozpin that this was the most he’d ever heard Qrow talk about money. “I’ve cut their hair since they had any worth cutting. Tai’s now too. It saves a surprising amount.” Qrow’s eyes snapped up to meet Ozpin’s in the glass. “You actually want this?”

Honestly? He wasn’t sure. His hair felt like a crucial part of his identity. Or at least, his identity as a skater…

Which was precisely why he should let it go. Ozpin wasn’t that man anymore. The fuzzy image of Qrow standing at his shoulder was proof of that.

Ozpin nodded and Qrow gave a little hop of joy.

“Fucking love cutting hair,” he whispered. “Okay. Just try to stay calm and trust me. This is gonna be great.”

Oh, he trusted him, but that didn’t make the first cut any easier. Ozpin watched nearly two feet of hair suddenly plummet to the floor and felt a little like his heart was going with it. He blinked rapidly, nails digging into his legs… but then the second cut came and suddenly his whole head felt light. He felt lightheaded. It was such a strange, foreign feeling that Ozpin instinctually lifted a hand up towards his ear. It was caught and set gently back into his lap.

“No peeking,” Qrow said. He bent and pressed a kiss against the back of Ozpin’s neck. It sent a lovely little shiver down to his toes.

Okay. No peeking. Ozpin kept his gaze firmly on the floor as Qrow muttered things about layering and washing and needing a diffuser. He didn’t really follow it, but the careful attention Qrow gave to the task was worth more than Ozpin could say. When fingers suddenly appeared beneath his chin he was surprised by them. The feel of the work had made him drowsy and in the face of Qrow’s ministrations he’d forgotten what they had been leading to.

“Well?” Qrow said, nervousness threading his voice. “What do you think?”

He must have carried the small mirror over with him, the mirror that now reflected a man Ozpin didn’t recognize. His hair hung just below his ears and without the added weight had curled unexpectedly, little flyaways falling over his eyes and lifting in the back. It made him look younger. Approachable. The man, Ozpin realized, looked happy.

Qrow was visible in the mirror’s reflection, stationed beside him with flushed cheeks and twitchy fingers. Ozpin knew he was supposed to be looking at the cut right now, and yet…

“Perfect,” he said and he still hadn’t drawn his eyes away from Qrow.

[bladeydp]

I only learned about this shameful affair a few months after the release of Fake Worlds End in late 2023. In this post, I will describe what happened and my subjective opinion of lunariamv as an active domestic Charon fan on the Internet.

First let's understand who lunariamv is. lunariamv is an online game maker (active on Tumblr and tiktok) who has been reviled by charon fans overseas for pirated charon games. lunariamv started out as a painter, but one day he started to imitate charon's games. At first, it was just the imitation of the painting style, and then gradually began to copy the original. lunariamv's Doom Stones is a direct copy of charon's Makoto Mobius. Not long ago, lunariamv copied Mikoto Nikki again.

Now let's talk about my personal feelings

My favorite charon character is Mikio from Makoto Mobius. I've only been active on Twitter for six months now. The first time I saw the Doom Stones CG I naively thought it was some unfinished work by charon. And then I was misled, like an idiot, and I posted it on Twitter. Later, under the explanation of the Internet fans, I found that what I saw was something contrary to heaven. (I ended up deleting that tweet because it was disgusting to think of copycat stuff as a family thing) and lunariamv drew Mikio as a man...

lunariamv, don't you get it? The decision to change the original in order to make it look less identical is disgusting...)

(" I don't Want People Who are hindering Me to Interact with Me "is like a thief declaring that he is stealing from people around him and not to stop him.) He claims to be artistic and aesthetic without any consideration for anything else, like A saying to B: "I like your dress, but you will be mediocre without it, so I will get the same dress as you." Let me make my position clear: I do not oppose those who learn from charon's painting style, and the later development of painting style depends on the reference in the early stage. But isn't it a little cheeky to copy the plot? lunariamv claims to be a charon fan, but she would rather draw a fan map of her own game than a fan map of charon's own character. In addition, lunariamv's early works were found to have been copied by overseas charon fans.

Like Matsuri? That's right, because lunariamv doesn't make people.

However, lunariamv explained the plagiarism: "I didn't do it intentionally, it was just for fun."

One day I robbed your house of every penny left, and when I finally tell you, "I didn't mean to rob your house, it was just for fun," you will be happy.

Why are you calling this guy Mikio? You probably know that I like Mikio, and I think you're getting back at me and the other Charon fans, right? lunariamv, I should have known you had no shame.

And this guy is trying to mislead his uninformed fans by branding his game as a Charon game.

lunariamv posted a video of herself playing the game she copied from Charon on YouTube. lunariamv's YouTube account:

I argued with him in the comments section of YouTube and was met with sophistry:

Even if you have no business purpose, no intention of making a profit, but you have done such a reckless thing, especially against the Charon group, lunariamv, I just want to ask you, is your conscience being eaten by a dog? You don't talk back to other fans, you don't talk back to me, you use the law as a shield when I'm judging, do you really think the world revolves around you?

So I went to tumblr to argue with this asshole. Continue to expose this guy's evil deeds under this guy's blog, and then he responded to me like this:

Who gave you the courage to be a thief and scold me for exposing your ugly face? First: No one listens to your guile, your guile is against ethics. Second, other fans are helping me. I only look at the facts. Third: I am 18 years old. I was diagnosed with ADHD as a child and had symptoms of delusional disorder. But I'm not retarded. I think lunariamv's comments have violated my right to personal dignity, mocking me as childish, retarded, and incapable of respecting others. No, have you ever respected other fans who come to you to talk to you alone? (There are private messages from overseas fans about how this guy's stolen work compares to the original, but this guy doesn't reply) Do you respect Charon? You're talking about respect here?

Not only was I scolded, but lunariamv wrote a short essay in order to "repay" my exposure:

The original link:

(I have three requirements for you :1. Stop infringing 2. Delete the works that involve plagiarism 3. A public apology to Charon makes it spam?)Stop using the law as an excuse. I've seen that too many times before, "I don't take Inspiration as my own," and when you posted your last rip-off and shamelessly called it original, how did I tweet it back at you?

Just because you acknowledge and praise the original work doesn't mean you can copy it, but if you acknowledge and praise the renovation of my home, you can pick the door lock of my home? What bandit logic...) How can you proudly compare yourself to everything in the world? A: Do you think in other people's shoes? Don't you ignore other fans when they explain to you calmly? In my private letter to you, I just repeatedly emphasized my three demands. Did I verbally attack you? Isn't it true that you plagiarized? (" I'll Take Criticism with a grain of Salt, "and then you posted this quibbling essay.)

"You want the same thing as Charon, Please don't expect it," Then you don't fucking get involved with Charon, you can't be original? Your work is too misleading, and some Charon fans who don't know the truth have begun to defend you, really fucking "Congratulations, congratulations" ah)(you have violated the bottom line of Charon and Charon fans again and again, my evaluation is either apologize or delete the number roll, pretend what big tail Wolf)

This guy played Fake Worlds End and still insists he didn't plagiarize, knowing Charon went through a plagiarism scandal and still plagiarized, so it's a little cheeky to defend herself, right?

By the way, this guy is already copying mix ore.

Finally, I gave it to lunariamv with one of our famous Chinese poems. Anyway, that guy doesn't understand the broad and profound Chinese culture.

《诗经·彼阳》

彼阳若至，初升东曦。

绯雾飒蔽，似幕绡绸。

彼阳篝碧，雾霂涧滁。

赤石冬溪，似玛瑙潭。

彼阳晚意，暖梦似乐。

寐游浮沐，若雉飞舞。

あなたは少し能力と度胸があるならば、私の郵便受けに来て私のフィードバックを探します:tamasuyouaya@gmail.com

盗作って何ができるんですか?

[garamonder]

Chosen Peers

(During a field trip to Central University, Havoc sees the possibility for a different future for Ed.)

Jean Havoc hadn't been in a university library in ages. He stared around the quiet rows of high wooden shelving with a sort of fond nostalgia, finally squashing the weird reservation he had about being there. School buildings always seemed like the property of students, and he had to admit to himself he felt a little like a trespasser. He was seated at a sturdy long table, tipped back in his chair and waiting on the boss to collect the materials he wanted here before they dropped in on Professor Haggerty's chemistry office.

A stack of books landed before him with a thump that made one of the librarians frown their way. "Here," said the boss.

The lieutenant sighed at the load and craved a cigarette.

"Don't look so morose, we have a cart," said Ed. He retrieved a two-wheeled metal book cart from the librarian, who briefly regarded him as though she was not sure he'd bring it back.

"Why don't we have an Alphonse?"

"Because Alphonse has a job, and now we have a Havoc."

At this moment, Al was probably up to his helmet in stuffed animals and teatime. He was babysitting Elicia Hughes, allowing poor Gracia an evening with her sister. Havoc hoped they were having a good time. It was good of Alphonse to offer.

In truth, Havoc didn't mind the field trip. Sometimes he liked a change of scenery and the boss was entertaining company. Once in a while they struck up a quick game of cards. The kid's promise not to tell Hawkeye that Havoc had taught him poker was nearly four years old and he was old enough now to make it moot. Ed was ever grudging of his time, but Jean liked the moments when he wheedled a few minutes of downtime out of the young major.

It wasn't as often these days that the Elrics dropped in to town, Ed getting his assignments on the road as often as not. Things seemed to happen faster now than they did a few years before. Sometimes Havoc felt events escalating in a way he couldn't express except in the increase of cigarettes he consumed too quickly every day.

Then the boss had collected Havoc to act as the extra pair of arms for lugging Ed's research from the school. "They let you check this stuff out?" he asked.

"The watch helps," Ed said smugly.

Right. The watch did it all. Jean clapped his hands to his knees and stood up, dutifully wheeling the cart behind Edward as they trundled out of the library and down a long path through one of the leafy campus squares. Students were taking advantage of the fine weather to sprawl along the grass on picnic blankets. Some had brought along books to study; others had abandoned pretense and were loafing about.

Every so often someone would send Havoc a curious look. He was wearing his usual blues and was clearly identifiable as a military officer. They must have wondered what he was doing on their campus. Colleges were sequestered communities in a way that few places were now, and anyone not recognizable as a student or faculty stuck out like a cowlick.

Ed got fewer glances and it suddenly occurred to Havoc that Ed looked like he belonged here. How odd.

They paused at a little crossroads of diverging paths as Ed squinted at the directions Professer Haggerty had scribbled. "Does this say 'Norrey Hall' or 'M—Murray?' Murray Hall?" He frowned at the paper. "This is chicken scratch."

It was probably about as decipherable as Ed's own handwritten reports, which Hawkeye had tactfully requested be typed out from now on. No one gave him too hard a time about it because it wasn't hard to guess he'd had to relearn to write left-handed and it seemed bad sport to make jokes. Ed shoved the note under Havoc's nose, who couldn't make heads or tails of it either.

A gaggle of chattering students were passing by, weaving around Havoc and his cart. "Hey," Ed waved a hand at them. "Any of you know where Haggerty's office is? Chemistry department."

The students paused with expressions of surprise. "Actually," said one girl with long blonde hair, "we're headed to his class. We're picking up some exam results."

"Is it Norrey or Murray? I can't read this stuff."

One of the other kids giggled. "Is it his handwriting? It's so bad. The teacher's aide has to decipher it for us half the time. It's Norrey. Come on, you can follow us."

They started walking again, Havoc bringing up the rear. Now that Edward was definitely associated with the military officer, they glanced curiously at him too.

"Are you a student?" the first girl asked.

"No. Just need to drop in on Haggerty."

"Do you know him?"

Havoc knew Ed and Haggerty spoke periodically and flapped their gums a lot about chemical reactions whenever they passed within a twenty-foot radius of each other. Haggerty wasn't much for alchemy, even disparaging its use in Ed's presence, but somehow they collaborated quite well. Ed seemed to relish lecturing the professor that alchemy acted as the ultimate authentication for mathematical and chemical theorems. If it was bullshit, he was fond of saying, a rebound will tell you sure enough.

"Yeah," said Ed, "I see him around."

He was clamming up as he did sometimes around interested strangers. It was funny, reflected Havoc, how he could be so cocky around people who others found intimidating, but he shut up in the presence of—well, those who would ordinarily be peers.

Come to think of it, he never saw Ed with anyone his own age save for Alphonse or his mechanic.

"Are you…with the military?" asked a bespectacled boy dubiously, eyeing Havoc.

Before Ed could give a one-word answer to a spectacularly complex question, Havoc mischievously replied for him. "Major Elric? Is he ever."

He grinned at Ed's sharp look. If he was going to drag around a heavy cart of books, he'd have some fun with it.

"Major?" repeated a few of the kids, exchanging glances. Ed shrugged and slowed to keep pace with Havoc, who was leisurely strolling along steering the cart with one hand and smoking a cigarette with the other. When they approached a large, red brick building, Havoc took a last few drags and regretfully extinguished it on an ashtray outside the hall. A few students taking a smoke break nodded at him and Havoc rolled his eyes at the implied solidarity.

"Back in my academy days, I knew a girl who went here," he told Ed conversationally.

"Of course you did."

"'Course, military curfew's bit of a damper on young romance. She ended up ditching me for some dip in the sociology department."

"What, she wasn't into boys with a bedtime?"

Havoc sniggered and Ed shook his head, smiling despite himself. The hallway was congested with students coming and going and Havoc weaved his cart upstream, feeling like salmon. At last they pulled up to a handsome wooden door where "Professor Haggerty" was neatly engraved. Haggerty definitely had tenure.

The blonde girl ducked her head in the office. "He's probably in the classroom," she informed them. "It's just this door over."

They obediently followed her and her classmates into the room next door. The classroom was set up stadium style, with all the seats ringing a half-moon around the space where a professor would hold court. On a green chalkboard up front, some chemical formulas were laid out and the beginnings of a alchemical array was sketched out on the wall. Ed glanced at it and snorted.

A stout, balding man looked up at the sound and roared in a deeper timbre than anyone would have credited at sight alone: "Elric! There you are. I have a bone to pick with your alchemy."

Ed dropped the book he'd been carrying onto the desk. "It's not my alchemy, and I'm sure it's your fault."

"It damned well isn't, that array is faulty and—"

"—Don't blame science, if you're going to use alchemy to test theorems you might actually bother learning to construct a proper array." Edward flapped his hand at the chalkboard. "Just what the hell is this?"

"It's a perfectly cogent formula, is what it is—"

"Cogent, my ass. You don't even have all the elements represented on the array!"

"I don't need all the elements!"

"You still have to denote them! How many times do I have to tell you? Even if you're canceling it out—"

And they launched into squabbling, punctuated by words Havoc supposed to be alternately scientific and profane. This was their way, picking up each time as though they were resuming an interrupted conversation from the last word. That conversation was usually an argument, and both were always trying to get the last word.

The students they'd arrived with stared with growing amusement. Their grins widened as both Elric and Haggerty grabbed stubs of chalk and began brandishing them at the incomplete array and then each other.

Havoc leaned against a desk in the first, lowest row. The stadium setup put him in mind of a gladiator arena, with these two as the premiere match. The blonde girl said dryly, "I guess they do see each other around."

"Like ships passing in the night, except they bicker across the way." Havoc counted the smokes remaining in his pack. He'd sneak by the commissary on base before reporting back to the colonel. He looked forward to that night, when he'd be wining and dining his date at a swanky cafe he'd had to reserve a table at weeks ago. Sometimes the military blues came in handy, especially in the big city.

"What do you need all those notes for?" asked another of the students, who hadn't yet addressed them directly. He had neatly combed hair, a faintly aggressive tone and generally reminded Havoc of the sociology student Harriet had ditched him for years ago.

Jean shrugged. "The boss needs 'em," he indicated Ed, "I just carry 'em."

"Is he really your boss?" the boy asked skeptically.

"Technically, he's my superior officer," said Havoc. He never minded clarifying the fact. The 'Major' title made Ed sour, which took the sting out of referring to a younger soldier as such. "We have the same boss."

"Oh."

Haggerty drew breath from the argument to address the milling students. "Yes, yes, your exams are here," he said. He reached into a drawer of his desk and retrieved the papers, shuffling through them and handing them out to their respective owners. "Good job, some of you."

Havoc snickered as a few of the faces paled. Then Haggerty took a positive brick of paper from the desk and dropped it in Ed's hands. "Here, you ingrate. Write me an array and we'll call it square."

"That could be the problem with your arrays," said Ed, "they're always square."

And they launched into a fresh round of quarreling before more students piled into the classroom for the afternoon lecture. By the time most of them had settled into their desks, watching their professor squawk at the kid engaged in scribbling furiously on the chalkboard, Ed had fixed the array and both men were covered in chalk dust.

Haggerty seemed satisfied. "Equivalent exchange," he announced, and the two parted with a last few amiable insults. Ed waved a hand over his shoulder as he followed Havoc out the door and into the hallway.

"You do have array with people," Havoc told Ed slyly.

The major rolled his eyes. "How long have you had that waiting in the wings?"

Neither of them noticed that the students they'd arrived with had filed back into the now-clear hallway with them. "Any more stops on the tour?" asked the bespectacled kid, and Havoc glanced at Ed, who shook his head. By the looks of their cart it appeared as though they had dangled the university by its ankles and turned out every pocket for relevant notes.

"It seems we've emptied the mines for now," said Havoc. He leaned on the cart and caught sight of a scuff on his boots. He'd have to take care of that before picking up Bianca that night. Thank God his military curfew had for the most part ended after academy.

"Tell Haggerty I'll send this stuff back with an aide," Ed told the students. He'd probably conscript Sheska if he could peel her away from headquarters long enough. In fact, Havoc suspected he'd rope her into copying most of the notes. Ed couldn't take every page with him on the road, but he loathed parting with research documents and liked knowing they were all within reach of Sheska's recollection.

"Hey," said the blonde girl. Ed turned to her. "Do you guys want to come to lunch with us?"

"Lunch?" repeated Ed blankly as if he'd forgotten what the word meant.

"Yeah. I mean, it's cafeteria food, but it's not the worst," she said. The others snickered in universal disparagement of cafeteria fare. It was probably a common joke among the students, something in which they were all initiated freshman year. One of those silly little things that was oddly bonding because it belonged to a shared experience.

"Ah. Thanks, but we have to get back to the office."

Havoc winced. Ed sounded so official. How long had the boss been talking like them before they'd realized it?

"Are you sure? Even soldiers have to eat," said one of the other girls with a smile.

The words were out of Jean's mouth before he even considered them. "I can drop this stuff off at the office," he offered.

He didn't think that merited the glare Ed leveled at him. "I have to file a report," Ed lied shamelessly—shameless because he had no report to file at the moment and because his reports were famously terse and probably took all of five minutes to write. "Thanks anyway."

Gone was the easy belligerent rapport he'd had with the older professor. Like a switch had been flipped.

"Oh. Yeah, I get it. Okay, see you around," said the girl, and her companions gave them awkward little waves as they moved away.

Ed moved to secure everything on the cart, and made sure the unbound stack of papers Haggerty had given him wasn't going anywhere.

"Why don't you go with them, Ed?" Havoc said wistfully, gazing after the departing students. "I won't tell the colonel if you want to play hooky for a while."

Ed snorted. "I don't. Let's go."

"You sure, boss? Wouldn't kill you to go with them. You might even like it."

The teen conveyed his doubt of this with a flat look and went back to checking over the notes he was bringing back. At last he was satisfied that he had wrung out all that the school could offer and they wheeled back down the hallway, out to the fine sunshine. Havoc thought about the wonderful weather he'd have for his date tonight, but he felt distracted for a reason he couldn't put his finger on.

The automobile was parked in a place of somewhat dubious legality not far from the main campus. Military plates stalled the hand of anyone who might be tempted to write a ticket. The two rolled up to the car and Havoc unlocked the trunk while Ed began unloading the cart. As he sorted it out, Jean filched another cigarette from his pack and lit up, gazing around at the college scenery. Maybe the nice day was affecting his sentimentality.

"Come on, I'm starving. Let's grab lunch from that one place on the corner. Military's paying." As though on cue, Ed's stomach distinctly rumbled. He pointed to it as confirmation and shoved the last of the books in the car.

Havoc protested. "You just turned down lunch with those guys!"

"Doesn't mean I'm not hungry," said Ed. He slammed the hood and made to wheel the cart back to a librarian who probably thought she'd said her goodbyes to it for good. "What, aren't you?"

Sure Jean was. His stomach was rumbling right along in sync with the major's. He dragged on the cigarette while Ed took the book cart to the library, returning with an expression that said he didn't think the librarian's relief was necessary or polite. Havoc didn't know why he couldn't let it go that easily.

"Why didn't you want to eat with them?"

"I'm on the job," said he who notoriously never cared whether he was on the job.

"Don't you ever want to be around people your own age?"

"No," said the boss distastefully.

And that was the simple truth. He did not envy or resent other young people for their ordinary lives. He did not think about them at all. It was not that he looked down on their simpler, everyday concerns, but he could not relate to them.

Ed raised an eyebrow and leaned against the car. "What is this?" he twirled a finger to indicate the general matter of Jean's concern. "You nostalgic for school or something?"

"No," said Havoc truthfully. Military academy had represented the end of his formal education and he'd had a good time there, but he wouldn't shave away a few years now even if he could. The fact was, grown women were—well, they were just tops. "It's just that this might be the only time you get to experience this stuff."

"Experience what, cafeteria food?" Ed deadpanned. "Thanks to the military, I get plenty."

"You know what I mean."

"Okay. You mean bitching about professors, midterm exams, and student government."

"I mean dorm life, making friends you'll have forever, late night pizza runs, hanging out and laughing…without the pressure to like, stop a murder or bust some smuggling ring. I know those are little things," he said to Ed's skeptical frown, "but they add up to something greater."

"And what good will one lunch do? Aside from the good this lunch will do, because I'm still starving and we're not moving."

Obediently, Jean stubbed his cigarette and they started walking. Maybe it wasn't too late. Ed was still young; there was still time to finish the job he'd started and turn his eyes to every experience he'd been ignoring. Havoc realized suddenly he wanted this for Ed, and he wanted Ed to want it.

At first they walked in silence but Ed seemed exasperated. "I don't know what you want from me here," he said finally.

Havoc blinked, then laughed. "I don't know either. Sorry."

.

.

Jean put the incident out of mind for a few days, until next he ran into Al at HQ and felt strangely compelled to relay it. "I feel a little bad," he admitted to Alphonse. "Sometimes I wonder if we're the reason he can't relate to anyone his age."

If a helmet could smile, he was sure Alphonse would be smiling then. "It's not your fault, Lieutenant," he reassured Havoc. "The truth is, Brother was never really interested in other kids, even when we were little."

Littler, corrected Havoc's guilt instinctively.

"He didn't pay much attention to them at school. He mostly just talked to me and Winry."

"Why is that?" Havoc asked.

Alphonse shrugged. "Brother's always been ornery, and too clever for his own good. He just didn't relate to anyone our age." Sensing Havoc's hesitation, his voice gave that smile again with his words. "Not everything about Brother boils down to—what happened. Actually, a lot of it doesn't. He's just Ed."

Of course he was. Havoc was almost embarrassed. It was hard to separate Edward from what had happened to the brothers that day, and easy to assume the harsher parts of his nature originated from trauma. But then there would be so little of Ed left, and that wasn't fair.

"How did your date go, Lieutenant?" asked Alphonse politely. Havoc groaned.

"A little too well. She wants to go there again next week. My wallet can't take it."

Ed's yellow hair and red coat popped around the corner. Colonel Mustang was matching him stride-for-stride and the two were bickering about a detail Edward had conveniently left out of his latest report. The colonel expressed a stony opinion that it constituted a misrepresentation of events.

"Do you really want it on military record?" Ed told Mustang flatly, who reconsidered his position in light of the detail Jean was sure he was better off not knowing.

The colonel harrumphed and paraded into the office, Ed following with rolling eyes. Behind them filed Hawkeye, in whose professional countenance Jean detected a flicker of amusement.

Havoc was reminded of the major launching into easy debate with Haggerty, and for a moment felt glad their little office fell onto the comfortable side of the fence Ed had built around himself.

.

.

I’d forgotten to post this here

[agentaw]

Detroit: Become Human - Funny story...

Okay... so Story Time because my friends pointed this out and it’s been fucking with me ever since.

This is the story of how I kinda...sorta wrote/ predicted parts of DBH about...2 years ago. Just hear me out...okay?

So this all started similarly to how DBH started, with that dope-ass demo back in 2012. My 15 year old self became enthralled in it, much like I am now enthralled in the full game. I’ve always loved story telling and had a sort of soft spot for digital modelling. So that demo was a masterpiece to me, it had a great concept and beautiful design. It was a short obsession but it had an impact. 

And that was the last piece of news I’d ever hear about it until a month after they released the full game. I remember hearing some rumour that they weren’t gonna make it a full game or something and left it at that. I didn’t hear anything about it’s coverage at E3 because while I like video games, I become absorbed in different obsessions from time to time. 

And two years ago I was obsessed with Dungeons and Dragons, the thought of creating a whole world and having others enter it was fascinating. And while I tried to create worlds from scratch, I had a problem. 

I had never been too interested in Fantasy things, I liked fantasy characters but tended to focus on too much of the political aspect of fantasy worlds and not the fun stuff like slaying dragons and stuff. 

The return of an old obsession began to try and take my focus off of DnD but I wasn’t ready to let it go yet. 

So I merged them, DnD didn’t have to be fantasy, I didn’t have to invent a world from scratch and luckily my old obsession had a world pre-designed. Marvel, specifically MCU had a treasure trove of lore and I could take a number of rules from DnD 5e and tweak them to suit the change in genre. 

So I started off with a one shot campaign, set in a HYDRA base. My three player characters would be playing themselves and making decision based on how they’d react. They ‘woke up’ in a white plastic robot body. Singular, all three were in the same body, looking through the same eyes and rolling for control over said robot body. It was entertaining to watch them figure out what they hell was going on organically. They quickly met the first NPC an old doctor/sciencist who was a very nervous person. He explained that they’d all been loaded into the same body by accident and that he was just testing out that his creation (the body itself) was working correctly. So my players decided to answer the jumpy doctors questions and let one of them take control as the doctor got them to walk around while still connected to the computer around them by a bunch of wires connected to the back of their neck. The doctor left the room briefly (to report to his superiors) before returning and calmly explaining that he’d need to shut them down before making the rest of the bodies. Yes, this was heavily inspired by the demo but the players didn’t notice or didn’t comment on it at the time. And they genuinely really like the one-shot. So, I started writing more, growing the campaign and expanding my list of NPCs.

Now I know what you’re thinking, “wow...you ripped off the demo and think that counts as writing a whole game” but I never said I wrote the whole story, that would be mental. But as both me and my players have pointed out, there is a large number of similarities which is spooky because as i already stated I didn’t know anything about DBH until almost a month after it’s full release. 

The first and most profound is Amanda. Or my Amanda, who’s called Ruth LaRue. Dr. Ruth LaRue, the trio’s psychologist/co-creator who acts pleasant (too pleasant) towards them...unless they disobey or resist their training to become Hydra Assets. One of my players is rebellious and LaRue has tried to manipulate and coldly threatened him as a result. While another obeys and gets praise and rewards as a result. Also she looks like Amanda (a character i didn’t even know existed), I originally described her as the same race, hairstyle, though slightly younger. And then I drew her (poorly) for my players to get a better idea of how she looked and Jesus Christ they look the same. 

Another is the fact that I have three player characters. There was a possible fourth player but work and life made it difficult for her to be a part of the game. Also my players are two boys and one girl. And while that’s all freaky, their characters appearances/designs are extra weird. Originally, after all getting their own bodies, they all had white plastic robot bodies, all male design (which female player wasn’t happy about because she missed her boobs). The only way to tell them apart was voice and the nervous doctor had given them different coloured eyes. Creating robots came with the challenge of figuring out how their bodies worked (one player was particularly interested in this). Once again inspiration partly came from the Kara demo, the robots are a water (blue liquid) based system, a pump (heart) transports water, which is collect in bags (lungs) through the robots absorbing moisture in the air (through breathing), around the machine frame (body). The water has two purposes, to thinly coat the white plastic casing (skin), which allowed the robot to feel pressure but not texture and also to keep the pump valves going, which creates the energy the machines (players) are run on. After learning that the white plastic version could be easily broken during training, the nervous doctor created a second batch of models, this time made out of metal (female asked for a female body and therefore the doctor gave her a large dent in her chest plate, she was pleased). They then get a new model, ones that are designed to blend in with humans. And this is where this section gets super freaky. The player got no say in how they looked because in game they wouldn’t. 

The female is the shortest model as well as they palest model with loads of freckles, the similarities with Kara stop there but the female player has been gifted a female kitten (thankfully named Cookie, not Alice) as the reward and is quite paranoid about it being taken off her or harmed (calm down, I haven’t hurt the cat...yet). 

One of the males is only slightly more tanned than the female with considerably less freckles and markings. He’s the tallest and the player has been surprisingly obedient, only "failing” when he doesn’t understand what’s happen or doesn’t think something will benefit HYDRA. Because of this he’s been promoted to team leader by the powers that be. He’s logical and is usually thinking about training and what’s going on in the NPCs’ heads. 

Lastly we have the second male who looks southern European (Spain, Italy, Greece and could probably pass as Mexican but the story is set in central Europe) so a different ethnicity/race to the other two. This is the rebellious player who generally plays pranks, cracks jokes and says “fuck you” to authority. Like I said before as a result, he tends to be the one looked down on and oppressed by the powers that be. He generally has a very clear line which he won’t cross no matter what and is willing to stand up if he views something as drastically wrong (refused to hurt his friends or pick up a gun).

Also when asked what they wanted to be called (I.e What’s your name?) The players decided to to sick to what the nice nervous doctor had designated them, i.e the colours of their eyes. Rebellious is Red. Logical is Blue and Female is Purple (name later changed to Violet).

Next is three more NPCs, who have enough in common with the DBH characters to mess with me. 

The nervous doctor, Dr. Thomas Thornley, while having a completely different personality, has formed relationships like Hank. A number of the players refer to him as “Daddy Thornley”, not to his face but when talking to each other in game. And most disturbingly the rebellious player has implied on several occasions that he “ships” the logical male player with father-figure Thornley, jokingly of course. And while in the beginning Thornley may have viewed the robots as a project or experiment, he now appears quite protective and fond of them. Even displaying discomfort when one is broken or completely destroyed. 

Their combat and gun trainer, Agent Woodrow who is ex-military and treats the robots exactly like you’d expect he would, like machines. He could either be Gavin or Captain Allen but either way he’s a genuine aggressor and dislikes/hates the robots. 

The Head of Hydra, Director Malachi Storm who has an air of mystery around him and commands any room he enters. He’s considerable less creepy than Kamski but is an “all-knowing, all-powerful” character. Also I guess I’m technically also Elijah Kamski (a.k.a GOD) and my players pointed out that i have his sadistic, power hungry play style (thanks, guys).

Lastly is a few game mechanics and events i put in the game. The players have always been able to telepathically talk to one another, they can also transfer images to each other. If broken beyond repair (i.e Killed) they now get automatically rebuilt, similar to Connor. I made LaRue give them a morality test which was mostly the “Track dilemma” which is similar to both the driver-less car AIs and the Kamski test. I actually did the motherfucking Kamski test with one or two of my players (but with humans instead of androids lol). Also the players believe they’re alive (which technically they are). They’ve literally been give zero context as to how they are in robot bodies in the MCU, specifically they’re last memories before the start of the game are of going to sleep in their beds in the real world. They are literally three robots walking around stating that they’re alive. 

And yes, I realise that Cage took shit from other movies but it have seen any of those movies so...:P

If I looked hard I could probably find more scary comparisons but a) I don’t particularly want to show all my cards, in case my players read this post, and b) I appear to have written a fucking TED talk out of what was supposed to be a short funny story. 

[faerielleart]

hello my easter bunny! tysm once again for the wonderful art and all the effort that you've put into it! and i hope you indulge me in asking you this question, but how would you explain your drawing style? do you have any artistic influences or so? i just noticed that you tend to make use of pop culture references or literary quotes, but i'm not sure if that's something you deliberately intend to do in all of your works. much love <3

hello dearest! :D

thank you for the nice words aaa ;w; i am genuinely so happy you enjoyed your present ✨

these are very interesting questions 🧐 i’ll answer in order:

how would you explain your drawing style?

this is probably the hardest question for me to answer because i tend to switch it up a lot shdjskdkd it kinda depends of what i’m trying to convey, if i want to make something cartoonish or something more realistic, but i’d like to say it’s generally semi-realistic with a heeeavy emphasis on the “semi” hhhh i guess i am also kinda inspired by old school anime that i used to watch as a kid like sailor moon, the rose of versailles and others. i tend to do my best to get realistic proportions for the characters i draw and don’t really do heavily stylized work with exaggerated features, i try to imitate real people but i’m also incredibly stubborn and like to suffer so i always avoid using references unless i really need one (ex: muscles, hands, feet, dynamic poses) because i want to build a better visual memory for how a human is supposed to look like. when i first started posting my art i tended to do black and white only, then i got progressively more comfortable with colors. i’d say my signature thing would be the lighting :D and the lil dots of atmospheric dust, but yeah i have a tendency to do a lot of backlighting or random streaks of light, i think it looks pretty 🥺 also i like drawing hurt/comfort which is why i do a lot of black and white art, i think it looks nicer bc it reminds me of old photographs and it’s just a ~vibe~ i enjoy hehe but when i use color it’s super vibrant and saturated kinda like a punch in the eyeball. so yeah my artstyle in really brief words: inconsistent but shiny as hell with an extra colorful punch in the face when i feel like b&w doesn’t do the job :’D

do you have any artistic influences or so?

quite a lot! when it comes to backgrounds, i take inspiration from studio ghibli and makoto shinkai movies for scenery, kyoani for indoor settings. i freaking love yusuke murata and takehiko inoue’s artstyles and i love hirohiko araki’s use of color. as far as the technicalities go, my art never looks “smooth” bc i can’t figure out how to draw with airbrush tools to save my life, and i am very very veeery influenced by impressionism, which is why i paint in broad strokes that look messy and you can also kinda see all the lines hhh and i guess the focus on the lighting comes from my obsession with caravaggio when i was in school :’) oh also i absolutely have to mention the two italian comic artists whom i’ve been following since i was a first year middle schooler just getting started with digital art, mirka andolfo and angela vianello; they’re probably my biggest influences and lil fangirl moment i met mirka at a comicon a few years ago and she drew me hiyori from noragami as she was in charge of drawing the alternate cover for the first volume release and she was so nice and kind and encouraged me to keep making art and excuse me i’m gonna cry- angela vianello is also an absolute legend and her work is absolutely breathtaking, she’s probably *the one* who helped me shape my artstyle the most through the years. haven’t met her yet unfortunately ;;;;

about the pop culture references and literary quotes

BINGO i am a literature student and an anthropology student which comes with an extra art history, theatre history and philology+mythology on the side which means that basically 99% of everything i’ve ever posted stems from either a song i was listening to or a book i was reading or anything i was studying for my lectures bc i’m a huge nerd and i love making art of things i love inspired by other things i love (cue me recalling the obscene amount of AUs and wips i have in my gallery). my fav levihan stuff i’ve ever drawn were inspired by jane austen, victor hugo and anne carson quotes :D also a ton of musical theatre songs! i am a giant les misérables stan (book and show) and i have quite a few things inspired by it. yeah i basically have no originality and my brain needs to go “OH THIS QUOTE IS RAW AS FUCK” and “OHHH PRETTY SONG LYRIC” for me to start producing things hhhh

thank you for the questions 🐰💜💜💜