#the lighting and coloring on some of this was the bane of my existence

[ofnailbatsandaxefives]

In the source link you will find #287 gifs of Toby Wallace in The Last Time I Saw Richard (2013) Toby is 27 but was 18 at the time of the short film. He is white (British-Australian  of English, Scottish, and possible Dutch descent). Do not use in gif hunts or make icons. Remember to please like and reblog if you decide to use. 

[mikelogan]

gif tutorial

i was asked to make a tutorial for this set i made, so let's get right into it!

first things first, i downloaded the music videos from youtube in 1080p using 4k video downloader. unfortunately, the quality of youtube videos always seems... not great, to put it simply. plus these music videos are from the 90s, so they've been upscaled to 1080p after the fact. all of this works against us, but i've definitely worked with videos of lesser quality than these, so at least there's that!

when i gif, i import video frames to layers rather than screencapping. this comes down to personal preference. after everything has loaded, i group all my layers together and set the frame delay to 0.05. i then cropped my gif to 540x500.

the next step in my process is sharpening. i did play around with my settings a bit given the quality of the footage and the dimensions of the gif. i compared both @hellboys low-quality video gif tutorial to my regular sharpening action and my vivid sharpening action and in this case, i preferred my normal vivid sharpening action. i used this tutorial to create the action for myself, and you can find other sharpening tutorials here. this action converts my frames to video timeline and applies sharpening.

once my gif is sharpened and i'm in timeline, i begin coloring. i wanted to simplify the amount of colors used in these gifs, again because of the video quality -- i knew it wasn't going to have the crispness i would normally like for my gifs. here are my coloring adjustment layers and their settings (not pictured: my first layer is a brightness/contrast layer set to screen) (explanation in alt text):

all of these layers and their settings will vary depending on your footage and its coloring (and obviously, feel free to make the gradient map whatever colors you like if you aren't going for this exact look).

pretty basic coloring, especially with just slapping a gradient map on top (my beloved), but at this point, i still didn't like the quality of the gif, so i added a couple textures/overlays.

i put the left one down first and set the blending mode to soft light and the opacity to 8%. depending on what look you're going for, you could increase or decrease the opacity or play around with different blending modes. i like using this texture with lower quality footage because even when it's sized up a bit, it adds some crispness and makes things feel more defined. for the second texture, i set it to overlay and 75% opacity. we love and respect film grain in this house.

now for the typography! sometimes i really enjoy typography and other times it's the bane of my existence for the sole reason of just how many fonts i have installed. anyway, here are the settings i used for this set:

make sure the color of your font is white and then set the blending mode to either difference or exclusion. i can almost never see a difference between the two, but for this set, i used exclusion. below are the blending options (double click on your text layer to bring up this menu or right click and select blending options).

now we have to add the warp effect. with your text tool still selected, click this icon at the top of your screen:

from the dropdown menu, select twist. these were my settings, but feel free to play around with different warp options and their settings. the ones i use most often are flag, fish, and twist.

this last step is completely optional, but it's an effect i use in most of my sets with typography. duplicate your text layer (select the layer and ctrl+j), turn off the layer effects (click the eye icon next to effects), and set the blending mode to normal. right click on the layer and select rasterize type. right click on the layer icon itself and choose select pixels.

at this point, you should see the moving black and white dotted line showing that only your text is selected. then go to edit > stroke. here are the settings i almost exclusively use.

this is what your text should look like now:

using ctrl+T, move the layer off the canvas so you can't see any of the text anymore. you should be left with only your outline. click anywhere on your canvas to de-select the text we just moved. use ctrl+T again as well as your arrow keys to nudge the outline over to the left 2px and up 2px. this is personal preference as far as the positioning, but i almost never move it any other way. you can leave it like this, which i sometimes do, or you can set the blending mode to soft light like i did for a more subtle effect.

and that's it! rinse and repeat for each gif in your set or use a different warp effect on each gif to switch it up! if you have any questions about this tutorial or would like me to make one for anything else, please feel free to ask any time!

[azullumi]

“dangerously yours” ; alhaitham

summary — it was a simple mission, kill the scribe. it should be easy but what happens when you fall in love with your target?

pairing — alhaitham w/gender-neutral reader

tags — definitely not fluff, some angst here and there, reader is a criminal, inspired by the dangerously yours podcast (please listen to it), not proof-read as always, this is more like an idea dump and word vomit ; headcanons/scenario

words — 1200+

note — woke up and had this idea, goodnight (also wrote this months ago and just noticed this in my drafts)

you had one mission, an easy one at that.

working as a mercenary and spy under a criminal organization, you were tasked to do various kinds of things—from infiltrating certain groups in order to obtain information, from guarding someone and protecting their life to taking one at that. emotions were never relevant in this line of work, empathy and mercy never exists in these crimson-painted walls of your life. nor did the notion of affection and feelings were accepted. 

until a file containing details about a gray-haired man with eyes that seem to reflect both the ocean and the forest along with the contents of your task were placed into your hands: gain his trust, take the necessary information, and with the words encased in red and capitalized as if it was an important note, as if it was something that shouldn’t be ignored, the words, kill him were written.

it was simple. it’s not like this was your first time receiving this kind of mission; you had plenty of these and you’ve always done and finished them without any sort of trouble coming in your way. it should have been simple.

however, nobody warned you of what he would become—to you. the soon-to-be bane of your existence: alhaitham.

his whole being itself was a hindrance, a disruption to the way that you have survived life—kill or be killed. so how did something that you have been so familiar and used to become as scary as if it was the unknown? how did something that your whole life revolved around become so foreign and strange? how could you ever let go of someone who basked you in the afterglow of warmth and serenity?

he had you experiencing such things that you never dared to imagine.

“how can you be so sure when you don’t even know me completely.” you say, sitting right in front of the light-haired man, alhaitham,—your target—with a smile plastered on your face, a fake one at that. everything that will unfold here and throughout was simply just a form of deception to accomplish your mission.

“oh, i know you.” there was an underlying meaning underneath the tone of his words, the corner of his lips lifted into a small smirk, and you couldn’t help the numbing and cold chill that runs through your skin.

it was in a way that those stupid turquoise eyes of his feels like it’s looking right through you, as if he could read and see every thought of yours—and that’s what scares you, it’s not the fear that he’ll know of your soul and what you truly came for but the fear that he’ll know of the alacritous thumping of your heart and how your mind spirals into a turmoil and how you have to remind yourself every single time you hear his voice or gaze at him that this is the man you are supposed to kill.

not even once have you ever bothered to remember the names of the previous men that you were entrusted to get to rid of, only knowing their faces and quickly forgetting about it after you have done your job. but to alhaitham, to him, you know every single thing about him—how he prefers his coffee made, the colors that he likes (he insists on not having a favorite), how he struggles with falling asleep often, his love and preferences for books and reading, how he styles his hair (he only brushes through it and let the wind do its job), how he expresses himself, and how he lives his life.

in this play that you have orchestrated, you have unknowingly become of a victim of your own deception.

oh, foolish you, yearning for something, someone, that you will never have. when did it even begin? how did you even start to crave for a life that was completely out of your hands? was it when he smiled when he looked at you with those eyes one time? was it when you heard the sound of his laughter and wished to hear more of it? was it at the moment he kissed you and all you could remember throughout the night was the feeling of his lips grazing against your own and ghosting against your skin? is it because he always treats you with gentleness and looks at you with adoration like your existence was made up of stars and the sun?

for the first time in your whole life, you feel like a normal person for once—one who only experienced being hurt by heartbreaks, who cried over simple things, who ran through the fields in freedom and with nothing chaining you in a single place. for once, you feel like living instead of surviving.

the thought of running away, leaving behind the one thing you’ve only known and clung to, and simply being with him remains at the back of your head, the idea of waking up and spending your morning with him underneath the warm light of the sun, that you’ll get to feel the soft beating of his heart against your ear as he held you, that you get to experience the tenderness of his touch and kisses, that you’ll get to have him so close and so bare to you fills you with such warmth and comfort (feelings that were completely shoved under the pile of increasing corpses of the lives that you betrayed and took). but you weren’t a good person and you never will be, so how could you covet for something that is entirely undeserving for your existence.

“i can’t do this, i have to kill you.” your words came out as a desperate whisper, almost like a plea. you don’t even notice the tears that started to well up in the corner of your eyes until alhaitham wiped one that threatened to spill over your cheeks, his gesture gentle and forgiving. no one had ever come this close, no one had ever treated you so softly.

don’t come so close.

“then do it.” was he taunting you? you could never tell. all you know is you can’t pull the trigger on him.

“i can’t.” when did killing someone become so hard after you have taken dozens of lives with your blood-stained hands? your life’s purpose had trails of crimson, remnants of betrayal all over it yet you couldn’t even bear the thought of watching his eyes lose its light.

“why can’t you?” his voice was as soft and kind as his touch—he always speaks to you in such a way, never raising his tone at you, even at this moment.

the words remain stuck on your throat, nothing willingly coming out of your moment and the moment between you two comes into a hush. you can’t even say it; a confession that feels like a sin once it’s uttered out loud.

“say it. just say it, my love, please.” he chokes on his last word and something inside you breaks seeing this state of him. oh, how utterly foolish both of you are for falling.

“don’t do this to me.” your plea turns into a prayer, praying and wishing yet you don’t even know what it is that you are begging for.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[works-of-heart]

hiiiiii ❤️ I love your art but i wanted to ask if you use AI or not? It’s getting harder to find who the real artists are and who keeps faking it I’d love to see how you start your drawing process and wips!

Hello Anon and thank you for the ask!

I understand the concern of not knowing whether any piece uses AI, but I assure you, none of my art work uses any form of AI. I use Clip Studio Paint to do all of my artwork and everything is sketched, inked, and colored by hand. I have shared many of my WIPs with a few friends of mine, but I'll share them with everyone now, as to put any suspicions to rest! =D

These are wip and sketches, so please don't mind the messy process I have lol! At some point I was thinking of streaming my process, so people can watch me work, if they are at all interested. I'm still working on setting it all up.

Below are my WIP for some of my popular Elucien art!

The Elucien kiss, this was just putting down some shading before I worked on the lighting and coloring over the sketch.

My 'anime' style lucien. I had just put down flats and brief shading on his skin. I used the CSP background of a sunset here, adjusting it later and adding some glow.

My Lucien in Illyrian leathers! I was trying out different brushes and mood painting. A lot of this was attempting some monochromatic base painting before adding colors on top.

The sketch and painting of my Elucien garden. I had the HARDEST time trying to get Elain's head to gently touch Lucien's!

I painted the colors down, and started to get into the flow of the tone I wanted, and bigger shapes of Elain's hair. Like AI, hands are the BANE of my existence! I need a lot more study and anatomy practice. Perhaps I can post some of that here too! (I'm just always embarassed of the messy looks and weirdness of the process)

The base colors for my Elucien mother's day painting! This one turned out so pretty, I LOVED How Elain's hair came out in the end, I was pretty shocked! The sky looked sunny too!

Lucien and his wet shirt! This was the first time I've ever tried to paint a wet shirt effect before. I had no idea what I was doing, and had to try and find many different references.

These are the sketches I had done for Lucien and Elain's Final Fantasy pictures I made. Again, I need more anatomy practice, but doing these were so much fun! I listened to Final Fantasy music too to really get me in the mood. ^-^

And this is Elain of that series, in her flat colors!

There ya have it Anon! Here are just some of the WIPs I could find from my painting/drawing process. A lot of it is messy, chaotic, and just ugly looking at the start, but as they say "trust the process!" I certainly hope this helps ease any thoughts or suspicions. I understand its hard to find good work out there that is done with legitimacy, but all my work has hours of blood sweat and tears in them. =D

[dirtfrosting]

amelia county's very own: rhett abbott !!!!!

details + me yapping under the cut :>

After 87 years I finally finished!!! Definitely the most realistic and detailed portrait I have ever done. Loosely inspired by flesh.png on instagram. I love their portrait work and the doodles they include in the background!! I wish I could have been more adventurous with the colors like their work is but alas I lack the color theory knowledge.

It would be fun to try another portrait with less shadows. The dramatic lighting is fun but would be nice to focus on hue and less on value and then try to combine the two in a later piece ? dawg idk what I'm doing

Also I just realized I flipped the bison so it fit better, but now the arrows are on the wrong side I think. whooppss

Also the colors look so different on my computer 💀 I don't know how to fix it. If you can't see it, I just want you to know that there's also barbed wire in the background too.

Also cowboy hats are so hard to draw they are the bane of my existence.

N E ways, hopefully I will be more active here. I just got swamped with finals, summer class, and working and I'm also about to visit family for almost the entirety of September and then school is gonna start up again but I will try my best!! I just get overwhelmed and self conscious sometimes even though its literally not that serious 💀

I'm already working on another Rhett portrait and Rhett in the heat stroke trend (from twitter? I think) and I got some Bob doodles that are basically finished !! I also sketched out some Harrison and Miles doodles but idk how I feel about them.

I would also love to draw some stuff based on fics but no promises as I am the world's slowest drawer 😭 and I still need to improve my anatomy, coloring, perspective, stylization, shading, line art, composition, and design skills 😃👍 all my ideas are too ambitious for where I'm at rn rip

Nevertheless I stay motivated and will do my part reading fics and drawing pictures 🫡

oki das it thx for reading :>

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Revenant!Jazz ideas:

Continuing from this DPxDC prompt of mine, I’ve had some more thoughts about Jasmine Fenton and Revenants, especially where it concerns DC lore and Jason Todd in particular.

———————-

In my original post, @starlightcat04 asked whether or not Jazz’s eyes would glow toxic green too. I propose that, no, they wouldn’t.

While it’s a common head canon that Ectoplasm is heavily influenced by emotions, Jazz’s Ecto-contamination is bone deep and pure, unlike Jason’s. So no, I don’t believe her eyes would glow green.

They turn from the teal she had in life to a smoldering green that reflects light just like a feline, with a heavily damaged sclera that is perceived as black in low lighting, with ash grey veins spreading from her eye sockets down to her jaw like tears.

Her once bright hair turns from a lively orange-ish red to the color of cooling embers.

That which caused her death, a punctured artery is half-way healed by the time Jazz reanimates in the crematorium, so not only is she supposed to be dead still, she also has to be very careful with her movements otherwise she could very well bleed out again before she is fully healed.

What else changes with Revenant!Jazz?

In exchange for a higher mental processing and the high damage absorption of Revenants, Jazz loses most (almost all) of her memories of her life. What she does remember is thankfully not her death, but rather Danny’s, his death scream and ghostly wail overlap in her mind, at times causing severe headaches and nausea.

(According to his wiki page, Jason spent a year in a coma and as an amnesiac vagrant, therefore it’s not entirely without precedent that Jazz wouldn’t keep hers.)

Her Ecto-contamination has to factor in a lot though.

Jason was revived by Superboy-Prime’s Reality Shattering Punch. Jazz was reanimated by her own willpower, aided by Ecto to allow her body to heal and regress the stages of rigor mortis.

———//:///////———-

What does Jazz need to accomplish as a Revenant?

In the original prompt I wrote that Jazz returned to keep Danny safe- broad enough for a prompt, but what exactly does “safe” for a halfa entail?

Let’s list the major threats to Danny’s health, beginning with the obvious: the Ghost Investigation Ward and The Fenton Parents.

The Fentons are capable of tracking Phantom by his Ecto-signature, creating and having created weaponry specifically designed to target the ghost in question, to which they pass that tech on to the GIW.

If Danny remains in Gotham, the ambient Ecto will scramble the tech over enough of a distance, but if Danny were in a line up of three people right next to a GIW agent he’d be clocked almost immediately.

So, the Fentons and the GIW have to go. How does this happen?

The greatest irony I could possibly inflict on these anti-ghosters- becoming ghosts themselves. I won’t go into detail about what my brain jumped to when I thought about that outcome, but let’s just say it was pretty dark.

(And karmically well-deserved.)

#3 on the list depends on where Danny is when Jazz is finished with numbers 1 & 2 on her list.

If Danny is is Gotham and staying there for the long haul, then I believe this girl would take one look at Batman’s rogue gallery and nope them so hard everyone in Gotham gets the sense of their world about to be rocked, but the ones she gunning for the most?

(Joker, Bane, Manbat, Firefly, Madhatter, Riddler…)

They get the sensation that someone just walked over their non-existent graves.

(I got a little gleeful demented imagining Jazz just straight up ripping Manbat’s wings clean off, burning Firefly alive and throwing a detoxed Bane into a crowd of vengeful Gothamites.)

(Jazz learns that Joker killed a young hero with a crowbar and a bomb. She’s fully onboard with turnabout being fair play when it comes to that Pennywise reject.)

(I can’t even begin to list every rogue Jazz cuts down, it she doesn’t kill all of them, just most of their number.)

(Gotham celebrates for weeks.)

(I’m not sure whether or not Jazz kills the four mentioned previously in a couple of nights, one night or over a a few months, but it doesn’t take as long as one might think.)

/://:///////:::/::::///////

What’s next for Revenant!Jazz?

I’m still writing The Regent series, so I doubt I’ll come back to this for a while, but I’ll still be posting ideas and whatnot about Revenant!Jazz. There’s still plenty to explore here, and I have a pretty angst/bittersweet ending for Jazz in mind I want to talk about later.

If you have any ideas to add, please feel free to comment! If anyone does write this, please let me know so I can read it!

[leonenjoyer69]

I present, from my new Lanyon drinks the potion AU (working on the name), Robert Lanyon and his HJ7 Alter ego!

Taking pictures of colored pencil drawings is the bane of my existence, bc lighting is so annoying.

Anyways!!! I've settled on the first name Elias, bc I feel like Henry would help name him and Elias is a letter off from Alias (which means a fake/pen name), so I thought that'd be funny :3 still working on the last name tho.

Yes, that is Hyde's vest that Elias is wearing. Henry gave it to him on his first night alive after clearing everything up with him and Robert about what just happened to him. Since he's near Hyde's size, Jekyll decided that he needed some clothes, at least temporarily, but Elias refuses to give it back now, despite having his own clothes. Why? Because Henry gave it to him, and he loves Henry so much. it's also Hyde's vest, who's part of Henry, so by proxy he's gotta love him too, right? How could he hate any part of Henry?

Unlike Hyde, Elias isn't some self-proclaimed evil incarnate. He's very easy to read emotionally and is very honest to everyone around him. He's very open about his feelings, which are generally very quick to change, especially towards those he cares most about (*cough* JekyllandHyde *cough*-) and he strives for praise. He likes accomplishing things and has more of a liking for "sciency stuff", he also recalls most of the doctor things that Lanyon learned from university and isn't deterred by gross things and blood. He shares hyde's wanderlust and will run around town with him, though Elias prefers parks and nature over the slums of London, and he also enjoys the rooftops.

Timeline wise, Lanyon accidentally drinks the potion after all the blackfog and queen Lucy stuff, when they "kidnap" Hyde. Specifically, it happens right before Jekyll dumps all the HJ7 down the drain- like, right before. Lanyon kinda interrupts him doing that. Henry reenters the room in the middle of Lanyon's transformation, so he's there when Elias kinda "wakes up".

Anyways, please please PLEASE ask me questions about him, I'd love to answer them :3 also, I'm currently working on a fic for this!! The first chapter is almost done I think, I just need time to actually sit down and write.

Also jejvkekkvke character design is SO HARD, shout out to people who do it all the time. Also apologies if the skin looks off in any way, I've never really used colored pencils to color any characters, much less any colored characters, so I kinda had to figure it out as I went lmao.

[eric-the-bmo]

I'm going to talk about my WoD headcanons, except I only know two of the games and I don't know them well, so some of these might clash with canon:

VtM:

[note: I'm excluding headcanons that would be considered spoilers for my vtm character, since my fellow players follow me on here]

Vampire bites tend to have a similar effect and feel to anesthetic and other numbing agents.

The pleasant feeling from the bite can sometimes be unique to a Kindred.

A Malkavian's Bane manifests during a moment known as the Shattering. It can exemplify existing traits [ex: anxiety to Paranoia], or the new Malk can simply inherit their sire's specific bane. However, if anything extreme happens in the short few moments before, during, or after their Embrace, it can cause an entirely unique bane to manifest as a result of the extreme circumstances.

While shooting a vampire in the skull won't ensure the Kindred's death, it will result in slight memory loss upon regeneration- the severity of the memory loss depends on how much of the vampire's brain got destroyed (memories are all based off synapses and neurons, after all).

Excessive use of Dominate (specifically memory erasure) on a mortal can increase the chances of dementia and, in extreme cases, cause its early onset.

When feeding, the blood from a Kindred's victim goes into both the stomach and veins of the vampire- they don't really have their own blood, you see, and it needs to go somewhere. (Blood from the stomach eventually travels to the veins)

Vampires who have not fed in a while might be a bit colder than normal, with possible numbness in their hands and feet (although that's a sign of eventual torpor). On the opposite spectrum, vampires who have recently fed will, for a short while, have a bit more of a blush to them with all the new blood in their veins; however, it's not as convincing as using the Blush of Life and cannot pass as such (doesn't cause a heartbeat, for instance), and goes away after a few minutes.

CtD:

Glamour has the same iridescence as an oil spill.

Dr Chapman is fond of collecting butterflies and moths, and has a wall of them in his office. [Somehow, this is extremely unnerving for most of his patients.]

A more light-hearted one: Dr Chapman likes peanuts. I don't really know where this hc came from.

Both Dauntain and Autumn People have a lower body temperature than most mortals; combined with their Banality presence, it's not uncommon for some Kithain to think they're in the company of a vampire at first.

Nockers have an intricate series of knocks they can use to communicate to each other across tunnels, however this can also be used in simpler scenarios, like knocking on a door or table to communicate a message to someone right next to them without others knowing).

Bedlam results in slight leaks of the fae mien into the human disguise, though they're barely perceptible (ex: teeth that are just a tad sharper, small flecks of odd colors in the eyes, ears almost being pointed, etc).

A common sign of Bedlam is a bit of an iridescent shine/film on the eye, to show the buildup of too much Glamour within the fae and represent them not being able to clearly see reality; This trait is mostly only noticed by other Kithain, but becomes visible to humans in the later stages.

[buggywiththefolkmagic]

Appalachian Witchcraft for Beginners: Review

This is: Appalachian Witchcraft for Beginners: The History, Remedies, and Spells of a Rich Folk Magic Tradition by Auburn Lily

Rating: 2/10

Pros: Some information presented is correct, like the information on “ingredients” isn’t too bad if not a super small amount of them, she mentioned red clay which a lot of books seem to forget exists. And this book’s aesthetics? 10/10 for the illustration work, colors, fonts! I also appreciated the insistence that you help the land as much as possible, as well as the land’s original inhabitants and to give Indigenous voices space. 

Cons: There is so much I was so disappointed by. First off let’s get this out of the way: The author in her bio on her own website auburnlily.com claims she is a starseed. I have a LOT of personal feelings about the Starseed movement and how it damages the progress of mental health and getting help and medication for said mental disorders. But this should have been the first major red flag that this book would not be what it says on the cover.

A lot of my problems are as follows:

Most folk workers don’t use the same three or four ingredients…in this case:

Peppermint. Rose. Essential Oils. Crystals, usually citrine or black tourmaline. 

Actually we tend to not use crystals at all unless we’ve adapted them into our practice ourselves…the old folk didn’t have pretty rocks to use they got at the New Age store in the town square, alright? 

A LOT of this information is definitely tinged in a new age and modern light. The correspondences for the days of the week mentions “The Goddess” which we don’t…deal with??? At all??

Another example:

Grannies used to use the bible and ‘faith healing’ to avoid persecution from their community.

Absolutely not! She mentioned the witch trials a minimum of 6 times, which (ahaha good pun) almost made me roll my eyes into the back of my head, then I read the bible to avoid persecution part and almost burned the book on the spot.

Faith healing is NOT a cop out. 

It was the way things WERE. Were there hexers? Yes. Were they given a wide berth sometimes? Also yes. But they also had their place in the community! The hexer in my family, Flossie, was respected with some fear, but she was also the person who scorned lovers and cheated on spouses went to. When the police were hounding moonshiners a few came to her for cop go away works. 

The author also insinuates that Yarb Doctors were held in higher regard because they didn’t use faith/and or gender may have had a point in that. I dunno what yarb doctors and grannies she talked to but men were not allowed in the birthing room, that was a Granny’s responsibility and by god they did it well. You never backtalked a Granny, they were and are the backbones of their communities. 

Now that I’m off that soapbox, the author also seems to believe that meditation, third eyes, astrology in a modern way, and crystals are critical for Appalachian witchcraft which is stupidly incorrect. Her recipe for floor wash is hogwash and far too simple and small, her candle color correspondences are laughable…especially that little line on Orange: “Helps with menstrual cramps.” If that was the case no straight woman in Tennessee would get cramps because they all wear orange at least once a week for their team. 

She only uses Hoodoo like…3 times which is better than most authors so I supposed that’s progress? But the author also hates baneful work and makes mention of that fact numerous times.

The author also has quite a few love spells mentioned, and weirdly enough…a lot of her ingredients in OTHER spells are also the same ingredients in her love spells. How strange. 

My final and most damning gripe, the author seems to believe that stereotypes make for amazing offerings to the ancestors. In particular…the Irish would appreciate offerings of potatoes. You have to be kidding me.

Overall: Yet another new age witch trying to make folk magic look far more complicated and fluffy than it is. I hated this so much. I didn't even touch the "Open the healing channel" and "Reparative Visualization" "SPELLS" she includes which sounds like absolute woowoo.

Proof of some of these claims are below: 

[sirfrogsworth]

Small direct flashes are the bane of a retoucher's existence. Some photographers will get attachable brackets so the flashes are higher up and don't give red eye. But it is still a tiny light source and tiny light sources are not flattering. (Remember all of my ring light rants?) They remove all dimension from the photo. They make colors flat and sterile. And they make it very difficult to achieve natural tones.

This is why I bounce my flash off the ceiling. Then the ceiling becomes the light source and the ceiling is big as heck.

Unfortunately back the days of film, sometimes a small flashgun was your only option. A dark church is one of the most difficult environments to get good photos in. Nowadays you can crank up the ISO and use a denoising plugin in editing. But back then, even if you got the fastest lens and the most sensitive film, it still wouldn't be enough to get a proper exposure. And since big studio strobes had power packs the size of a mini fridge and were not portable enough for a wedding gig, your only alternative was a tiny direct flash.

So I am not blaming the photographer for making this 40 year old photo difficult to edit. But I do wish that church had chosen more attractive carpeting and wood banisters. Film is not great at rendering large patches of red and that wood seems to only look puke color no matter what I do to it.

And so this turns into a philosophical question. Is it more important to preserve this memory exactly as it happened? Or is it okay to improve the aesthetics with marble stairs so you aren't distracted by the ugly wood and carpeting and can just enjoy the fond memory?

So far everyone I've asked is leaning toward keeping it original for a print and just showing them the marble one.

[tunamayuuu]

Popping in to tell you that you’re art is so tasty and I will never understand how you always draw Suegiku’s hair so perfectly <3 (I love them, but their hair is the bane of my existence)

THANK YOU SO MUCH WAAA <3 <3 <3

i offer some headshots i did just for this ask actually

[id: colored sketches of jono saigiku and suehiro tetcho from bungo stray dogs. they are bust shots, where only their collar up to their head is drawn. jono is drawn with closed eyes and a smug expression, while tetcho is drawn with a bored expression. /end id]

-

-

i felt such a strong urge to provide a walkthrough, so i hope you don’t mind my blabbering about how i draw their hair! (it’s also the bane of my existence)

very long and detailed walkthrough / rambling below the cut for those curious! 

starting with tecchou! since i drew him first....

compared to other characters, i have a different technique specifically for him, because i always disliked how my detailed linework for his hair would turn out

i would draw these thick strand guidelines first; i put more thought into the strands for his bangs since this will decide how i frame his face

after that, i just connect the lines together and shade it black or whatever linework color i’m using! i also add the longer hair strands during this step, and modify any strands if needed.

the next step happens during my flat coloring phase, and is arguably the most fun part of this technique. i paint over the solid black hair with dark brown hair strands over top! that way i can provide depth and details in his hair, without much hassle since this doesn’t interfere with the linework 

i add some thinner strands after! then modify some areas when all the layers have been merged (since my coloring style is just me painting over everything)

-

-

onto jouno! who takes more steps...

i always start with the bangs! i follow his current hairstyle where his bangs are evenly cut and swoop to the right from our view

next step is.... whatever this is....... my friend calls it antennas. these parts of the side hair is meant to be longer to frame his face! i’m sorry i’m not brave enough to give him short side hair bits like in canon </3

after that, i draw the rest of the side hair! 

after that, i work on the back hair which puffs up by from the top to below the ears, and then gets much thinner and stops right around the back of his neck

with the help of clipping layers, i work on the tips of his bangs, side hair, and back hair. compared to canon, i like to have more gradient-like red tips. i color in the red tips before adding the light red and pink parts

after that, i clean up the colors to look like this! 

i add thinner hair strands and modify other parts like usual as final touch, or when i’m preparing to render!

-

since you’ve read to the end, i offer a bonus jouno! thank you c:

[mermaidgirl30]

Look for the Light Chapter 8

- Summary: Aly finds herself trying to escape the Boston QZ. What Aly doesn’t know is Tess is pairing her up with Joel to go on a dangerous mission to find Tommy. Will Aly survive the brooding, moody Joel or will she find herself falling hard for him? (This was one of my favorite chapters to write for the enemies to lovers 😍)

You awoke abruptly as beams of sunlight carried their way through the slightly ajar front door of the little house. You looked over and Joel was still passed out on the couch, his arm hanging off the side of it. He looked to be in a deep sleep, his breaths slow and steady.

You hopped up from the bed and made your way to the door, cracking it slightly and letting sunlight through the room. The door creaked, and you looked over to see Joel turn over to his left side. He was still fast asleep thankfully. You didn’t really want to wake him up and let all hell break loose. He wasn’t really a morning person, always cranky and hateful. You figured he was a coffee person. He had to be. Maybe if he had a cup he’d be a little nicer in the mornings. Instead he was like a viper, ready to strike at anything he could.

You heard a loud snap outside of the house. It sounded like something had stepped on a branch and snapped it in half. A few seconds later you heard another crack outside. You wanted to go check it out, but maybe you should wake up Joel first. Just in case it was an ambush of some sort. You rolled your eyes and groaned at the thought of waking him up. You sighed to yourself. Here goes nothing.

You took quick steps over to him and shook him, jolting him awake. “What?!” he groaned at you as he blocked his vision from being blinded by the sunlight.

“Joel, get up. I heard some noises outside,” you said as you stood over him.

He sat up slowly, murmuring something under his breath. You just stood there waiting for him to get up. He looked over at you annoyed. “What are you looking at, don’t just stand there! Get your gun out. Let me get my shoes on for God’s sake. I just woke up, no thanks to you,” he pestered.

“I have my gun right here,” you said as you held it up in your right hand, shoving it back in your pocket. “Just waiting on you.” You crossed your arms over your chest, looking annoyed you had to deal with him today.

Joel tied his boots and stood up from the couch, securing his rifle in his hands. “Then quit standing around and head outside,” he roared as his eyes turned to slits.

“Gladly,” you remarked back with a huff. You could feel Joel’s eyes rolling behind you, you didn’t even have to turn and look. He would be the bane of your existence, if you didn’t kill him one of these days.

You exited through the front door and entered the cold, autumn morning of late October. The trees were all sorts of colors as red and yellow leaves fell to the ground. Joel followed you out, his displeasure hitting the air. He was about to grumble something else when you heard another snap come from a few yards away.

“Come on,” you whispered as you trailed behind the sound.

“Aly, wait. It could be a trap.”

You ignored him as you kept walking towards the sound. The noises becoming clearer and more crisp the closer you got.

“Aly, did you hear me?” Joel reached out and caught your arm. You yanked it away and hard, staring back at him. Your eyes narrowing.

“I heard you just fine, Joel,” you clamored.

“What did I tell you yesterday about following orders?” he barked. You rolled your eyes and kept treading towards the noise. You heard him growl and curse under his breath. You had clearly pissed him off. Good. You didn’t need him.

You turned the corner and came across an American Paint Horse. It had a brown saddle on its back, but no one was around to claim the horse. You looked around and saw nothing. The horse was just standing there grazing on the lush grass.

You started to walk towards it, but Joel held you back. “Wait a second, there could be anyone around here. We need to make sure that horse is truly alone. I don’t want the owners coming back when we’re around.” He dropped his grip on your arm as you moved away.

“Fine. You go and patrol the area then. I’m not letting this horse out of my sight. This is exactly what we need.” Joel tried to give you a warning look, but you ignored him and walked ever so slowly up to the horse, being careful not to scare it. Joel didn’t leave. He just stood and watched you.

“Be careful,” he warned. “You should let me take the lead on this one. I’m pretty good with horses.”

“So am I! Just watch,” you snapped. He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to fail. You laughed under your breath. He really didn’t think you could do anything yourself did he?

You took a couple more steps toward the horse. The horse looked up and took a step back, cautious to the unknown person in front of it. You took two more steps closer, holding your hand out. “It’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you,” you said calmly.

You used to ride horses all the time in Washington. Your grandpa had a ranch, and you grew up riding with him. He taught you everything you wanted to know about horses. You used to have a stallion who was shiny and all black. You had named him Midnight. God you missed your horse and your grandpa. They were both long gone now. You had to stop looking to the past, no one you loved was coming back. Your face dropped and the horse seemed to notice your mood shift.

The horse took a small step towards you, neighing softly. You took a good look at the horse. It was a female. She had a beautiful brown coat with white patches all over her body. White coated her muzzle, light brown surrounding her face. She was a gorgeous horse.

You took another step forward, your hand inches from her face. She closed in the distance and let you stroke her mane. She was so soft, close to a velvet feeling. She was well taken care. You wondered what happened to her owner. All you knew was she was yours now. You’d take care of her.

She nuzzled against your face and you let out a small laugh, enjoying the warm moment. You adored animals, this was probably the whole highlight of your journey into the unknown. You continued stroking her, taking in all the serotonin you could get. You could feel Joel watching you from the corner of your eye. You turned your head and caught a glimpse of him. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but it looked like he had a little admiration in his eyes. He looked surprised actually.

“What? You thought I didn’t know how to handle a horse?” you asked with a laugh in your voice.

“Not exactly,” he said quietly. He ran a hand through his dark locks with streaks of grey glistening in the sun.

“Well surprise, I’ve been riding horses since I was little. I’m a pro. Maybe you’d know that if you actually talked to me,” you scowled. He shook his head at the comment.

“I know a thing or two about horses myself,” he said as he walked over to the horse and gently grazed his fingers over her back. “She’s a beauty. Should make for a good travel companion. Unlike someone else I know.”

You pushed his shoulder at the insult and rolled your eyes. “You’re such an asshole.”

“I know,” he smirked. “What should her name be?” he asked as he looked over the horse.

You gave her a good look and a name popped up in your mind. “Shimmer. Her name’s Shimmer.”

He gave her another glance and nodded his head. “Alright. Shimmer it is.”

“You’re not gonna fight me on the name?” you asked surprised.

“Why would I do that?” he asked, lines on his forehead creasing with confusion.

“Because you usually fight me on everything,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What’d you say?” he asked with a thick accent.

“Nothing,” you breathed out.

He looked at you for a few seconds with his hands on his hips and finally dropped them. “Fine. Grab your bag, we’re leaving in five,” he ordered.

“Fine.” You walked back to the house and grabbed up your backpack. Joel walked Shimmer towards the house and grabbed his bag as well. When you walked through the front door, he snatched your bag out of your hands and hung it on the right side of the saddle.

“You could’ve at least asked me nicely to hand you my bag,” you complained.

He grunted in response as he pulled himself up on Shimmer, situating himself on the leather saddle. He offered you his hand as you placed your foot in the stirrup. You didn’t want to take his hand, you wanted to do it yourself, but Shimmer was too high off the ground and Joel was in your way.

“Well, hurry up. We don’t have all day,” he grumbled, still offering his hand. You rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand as you hoisted yourself up. His hand was rough but warm. It burned like you had just placed your hand in a boiling pan of water. As soon as you were up on Shimmer, you yanked your hand away from him like it was on fire. The less contact you two had, the better off you were.

Joel took hold of the reins and Shimmer started galloping forward. It felt so nice to be riding again. You wished it would have been under better circumstances though. Not with Joel. Anyone but him would’ve been better.

Shimmer sped up as the ride became bumpy. She galloped down a long, rocky trail full of ruts and slopes. You tried to keep a grip behind you, but you were unsteady. There was no way you were putting your arms around Joel. You’d rather fall to your death than do that.

She galloped hard around a sharp corner, avoiding a gigantic oak tree. You began falling to the left of Shimmer, a towering rock sitting at the bottom of the ground. Before you could go overboard you grabbed on to Joel hard, avoiding a contusion to your skull.

Your arms wrapped around his waist. As soon as you did, Shimmer decided to slow her pace down. Thanks, Shimmer. Just great. You could feel just how muscular he was through his plaid shirt. Joel’s body tightened up the moment you made contact with your arms. The fleece plaid shirt was so warm, so comfortable. Mixed feelings flew through you and then Joel cleared his throat.

You quickly let go of him and dropped your arms, breaking contact. “Sorry,” you stammered as you felt your cheeks turn red. Fantastic. Joel didn’t say anything. He just kept his hands on the reins and continued riding on. His body didn’t relax though. You noticed that much. It’s like your touch had scorched him, and he didn’t want to be burned again. You tried your hardest to keep your hands from making contact with him again.

The rest of the ride was more smooth, more relaxing. The autumn air was cool, and the air smelled of fall. You loved fall. It was your favorite time of year. At least that was one good thing that was happening in the world right now.

-

The morning flew by fast. You’d been on the road for a few hours now, just trotting along. Trying to soak up the views of large landscapes and open fields. Thunder cracked in the sky a few miles north of you. You saw lightning fill the sky, lighting it up like Christmas lights. The sky was so dark, it was almost pitch black. Big thunderheads formed in the sky.

“Damn it, we need to find some shelter and quick. That storm’s gonna be a nasty one. One we shouldn’t be caught in,” Joel said with a sigh.

There was a large building about a mile away. You couldn’t quite make out what it was, but it kind of looked like a barn. Oh good, Shimmer might like that. “Right over there,” you pointed to the building.

“It’s the best shot we’ve got right now,” he said as he hit the reins and made Shimmer go running towards it. You grabbed onto the back of Joel’s shirt trying to stay put in your seat. He tensed up again, but this time less. It was like your touch electrocuted him.

By the time Shimmer made it under the awning, rain started pouring. The ground became soaked with puddles and mud in just a short time. You sighed and jumped off Shimmer, landing feet first on the ground. Joel jumped down next.

It was exactly what you thought it was from the distance. It was a large barn. The doors were open on both sides of the building. Empty stalls were scattered against the left wall as hay covered the ground in them. The walls were painted red and hay bales laid around the edges of the barn, along with some straw. It looked like it had been abandoned for a while, but it was still looking pretty clean and sturdy. You felt really lucky to have found it. Otherwise you would’ve got pounded by the storm.

Shimmer went and laid down in one of the middle stalls, seeking shelter from the storm and resting her legs. That’s exactly what she needed to do. She had to rest because we had a long trip ahead of us.

“Now what?” you asked Joel.

“We’re just gonna have to wait out the storm. No other options that I see,” he said as he sat down on a hay bale.

You paced the room, anxious for the storm to pass. Thunder boomed outside as lightning lit up the sky seconds after. You used to love the rain back in Washington, but not anymore. This storm had you on edge. Just ever so slightly. Maybe it’s because you were stuck in the barn with Joel. You just had to toughen it out. You could do this.

“Aren’t you going to sit down?” he asked casually.

“I don’t think so,” you said quickly.

“What’s the matter, you don’t like storms or something?”

“Or something,” you said as you looked out at the dark, stormy sky. The rain used to soothe you, but ever since that one cold night in Seattle you couldn’t look at storms the same. The night your parents died. The night your heart was shattered into a million tiny pieces. Chills tingled up your spine just thinking about it. You let the thoughts leave your mind fast before your emotions could get the best of you.

“Alright then,” he answered back as he placed his head up against the hay, relaxing into the bundle of warmth.

You slowly paced the barn, kicking up strands of hay as you went. The storm was nowhere near letting up. You sighed and decided to try to relax. You stopped pacing and leaned up against one of the sturdy walls, looking over at Joel. He was just sitting there comfortably watching the rain come down, his hands behind his head as he leaned against the hay.

You watched him for about a minute and decided you wanted to pry. What all was Joel hiding from you? Why was he a closed up box that didn’t want to be opened? You wanted to know and now was your chance. You were both unoccupied, nothing to keep him from talking. Alright, here goes nothing.

“So, are you going to tell me about your brother and why he wasn’t at the Boston QZ with you?” You lifted your head from the wall and crossed your arms, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t think so,” he said somberly.

“Why not?” you asked annoyed.

“Because.” He sat up from the hay bale and looked you hard in the face. “I don’t have to and I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Of course you don’t want to. You never want to talk,” you spat.

“Listen,” he said as he stood up, dusting hay off his blue jeans. “I’m not here to talk about my personal life. You can keep asking me, but I’m just going to get more annoyed. So, if you’d be so kind as to stop asking me about family matters and kindly shut the fuck up, I’d appreciate it,” he said coldly as he took a couple of steps closer to you.

“Fine, I won't ask you anymore!” you yelled at him, your face hot from anger.

“Good!” he yelled back.

You took a few steps toward him. “What’s your problem, huh? Why are you always being so defensive?” Your voice raised louder, carrying through the pounding rain.

“Because that’s who I am!” he snapped.

“I noticed!” you snapped right back. “You know what, Joel? Forget I even asked. Just drop it. You’re not worth it.” You held your hand up, surrendering the fight.

Joel glared at you, and it looked like he was about to say something else. Before you could hear what he said, a runner came barreling out of a hay bale. Eyes blood red and appetite famished. It was running straight at you.

Before your body could respond, Joel reached in your pocket and took out the hunting knife that was made of steel. Without even looking at the runner, Joel plunged the blade into its skull. It’s like he had cat-like reflexes. The strike instantly killed the runner. A red puddle pooled under its skull as it crashed to the ground dead. Joel quickly cleaned the knife on the runner’s shirt, wiping the blood from the blade.

“Holy shit, where’d that thing come from?” you asked, shock in your voice and eyes wide.

“Apparently it heard us yelling at each other,” he said mockingly.

You made an obnoxious face at him and rolled your eyes. “Smooth one, now give me back my knife,” you said as you held out your hand, waiting for him to give it up.

“Come take it from me,” he challenged as he held it up.

You swiped at him, and he took a step back. The knife out of your reach. “Alright, give it,” you said in a serious tone.

“I’ll give it to you. You just have to take it from me first,” he smirked.

You crossed your arms and threw daggers at him with your stare. “Are you challenging me?”

“Looks like it. Now are you going to stand there and talk or are you going to come get your knife?” he asked as he tossed the knife between his hands.

“Bring it on,” you said with a playful smile. He laughed as you walked up to him, reaching for the knife. He held it high above his head.

“Give it here,” you said as you jumped to try and grab the blade from him. He looped his arm around your back and tossed the knife to his right hand. You tried to grab it, but he whisked it away again in an instant. You huffed in frustration.

You swiped at him again, missing the knife by a few inches. “Not so fast,” he said as he spun around you, ending up on the opposite side of you. You charged and jumped at him, trying to take the knife. He ended up catching you, an arm circling around your waist as he spun you around and backed you up against the wall.

Your back hit the wall as his arms pinned you against it, leaving you with nowhere to go. He was standing so close to you, his eyes going dark as he stared down into yours. Your heart was pounding so loud that you swear he could’ve heard it over the pouring rain outside.

His biceps flexed as he leaned in even closer to you, inches from your face. You were breathing hard. You were out of breath from trying to get the knife from him, but it was also partly because he was standing so close. Heat radiating off his body, mixing with your own. You gulped as he looked from your eyes, down to your lips and back up.

“So close, but looks like I won this round,” he whispered, his voice melting like honey on the last word. You could’ve come undone right then and there, but you didn’t. He smirked as flames danced in his eyes. You wanted to feel the flames against your skin that you saw in his eyes.

Heat rushed through your body, and you were having a hard time concentrating. You could’ve sworn he was about to kiss you, but he pushed off the wall leaving you with your burning thoughts. “Try again,” he said with darkness ringing in his tone.

You pushed yourself off the wall and went for his legs. You tried to take him out as you kicked one leg, aiming for his knee. He quickly surpassed you, missing your target. Before you could say anything, he caught you off guard. He circled you and tripped you with his leg, making you tumble to the ground. You landed on your back with a thud, the hay breaking your fall.

He came down on top of you pinning one of your hands to the ground, one leg pinned under his knee. Joel was good, you couldn’t deny that. He was an experienced fighter. There was no way you could beat him. You tried to budge, but you couldn’t. He was too strong.

“Nice try, but you’re too slow,” he said with a small smile playing on the corners of his mouth. You both were breathing fast now, out of breath. You sat there for a few seconds listening to him breathe in and out, desire filling the pit of your stomach. His eyes were the color of honeysuckle, warm and inviting. You wanted to melt into those pretty eyes of his.

Before you could react, he lifted his weight off you and got to his knees. “Here, let me help you up,” he said as he offered you his hand. You contemplated taking it, but you saw the knife in his other hand.

You disregarded his hand that was offered to you and lunged for the knife. Before you could grab it, he moved and pushed you to the floor. This time you landed on your stomach. “Uhhh!” you yelled with agitation filling your body.

“Like I said, too slow,” he said laughing.

You pushed yourself up to a standing position and faced Joel. He was holding out the knife, this time offering it to you. You reached for it and snatched it out of his hands. You stuffed it deep in your front pocket making sure he didn’t take it again. Then you shoved him as hard as you could. He barely moved though. You glared at him, angry that you couldn’t successfully get the knife from him before. You were slow and weak. And he just showed you how much you were lacking.

“That wasn’t funny, Joel,” you said in a serious tone. Your eyes squinting as you tried to look intimidating.

“I thought it was pretty funny,” he said laughing with an amused expression on his face.

“No, it’s not!” you yelled back. Tears on the brink of shedding. You were so frustrated it was hard to focus.

“Hey, calm down. I’m only trying to help you,” he said calmly, trying not to raise his tone.

“Then try harder,” you said, choking on your words.

“I think that’s enough lessons for today,” he said as he backed away. “Maybe we can do more another day. I think you need to cool off a minute.”

“Right, okay,” you said back in a sarcastic tone. You didn’t know why you were getting all worked up over that. Maybe your emotions were running high from all the adrenaline and angst Joel was sending you. You weren’t just frustrated with losing the fight, you were frustrated with the mixed signals he was giving you. You were so sick and tired of him shutting you down all the time. And now he was being hot and cold and twisting your mind in different directions. Fuck he was frustrating!

You saw him stretch his right arm out, leaning against the wall. He was watching the rain come down calm and steady outside. The storm was far from over. Your eyes landed on his watch again with the faded green band. The watch hands weren’t ticking because the glass was broken. You still wondered why he wore it if it didn’t even work. What was he hiding behind it? What did it mean to him?

You knew he said not to pry, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to pry. You needed to. You’d reap the consequences as they came, but you had to break into his shell. He needed to let you in for your own sanity. You sighed. Here goes nothing. You took a deep breath before you spoke.

“That watch you’re wearing, I noticed it was broken. Did someone give it to you?” you asked curiously as you reached out to touch it. You barely grazed it with your palm until Joel swatted your hand away.

“Don’t,” he glared at you.

You backed up a couple of steps and raised your hands. “Alright, alright. I was just curious why you wore it.” His stare could’ve cut daggers into you. He was mad, flames burning in his eyes. You weren’t going to keep putting up with his shit though. “Hey, why won’t you let me in? Why can’t you talk to me like a normal person?” You raised your voice so he’d know how upset you were with him.

“I don’t have to tell you a damn thing about anything,” he growled back. You swear you could’ve seen a flash of red glow across his eyes with how angry he was getting. Good, you wanted to break his shell. Make him talk to you. So you would. Fuck the consequences.

“No, you really don’t, but it’d sure be nice if you did!” you screamed back.

“What do you want from me, Aly?”

“I want you to stop acting like you hate the world! Why do you hate me so much?”

Joel laughed and shook his head. “I don’t hate you,” he said as he looked back up at you.

“Oh, really? Because it sure seems like it when you shut me down and refuse to talk to me. Why won’t you just let your walls down a little with me? We’ve been traveling together for a few weeks now. I think you owe it to me,” you said, crossing your arms and daring him to challenge you.

“I don’t owe you a goddamn thing!” he shouted back. Ouch, that really hurt actually. As if you didn’t think this man could break you anymore. You felt as if you were standing on a high ledge awaiting death, and Joel was about to push you over the edge.

“Stop acting like you’re the only one hurt! I know you must’ve lost someone you really cared about. Trust me, I know exactly how you feel,” you said sympathetically, hoping he’d soften up a bit.

He gave you the meanest look he’d ever given you before. His eyes were daggers and he snarled up at you like a hunting dog about to pounce on their prey. “You don’t know a damn thing about loss,” he ripped into you. That pushed you over the edge. You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces right then and there. You didn’t know if you wanted to burst into tears or break something over Joel’s head. That was low even for him to say.

All you did was take a deep breath and turn the opposite way. “Okay,” is all you said. You started walking towards the opposite side of the barn. Straw crunched under your boots as you walked, and your foot smashed a broken bottle, glass shattering underneath you. You were about to step out into the freezing rain, just a couple more steps and you’d be there. You didn’t even care at this point. You’d rather be struck by lightning than be in the same room as Joel right now. You needed a way out and fast.

Before you could exit the barn, Joel reached out for you. “Aly, wait!” he shouted as he ran towards you.

“Why!” you screamed as you turned to look at him, rage flowing through your veins. You quickly turned back to the direction you were headed.

“Just stop, please,” he begged as he grabbed your wrist. His hand was warm, but you yanked your arm away from his grasp.

“No!” you screamed. You turned back towards him with pain in your eyes. “You don’t get to tell me I don’t know what loss feels like. You don’t get to tell me that when you won’t even talk to me!” You pushed him hard, and this made him stop in his tracks. He looked at you, waiting to hear what you’d say next.

You caught your breath and held back tears before you continued to yell at him. “I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved and cared about! They’re all gone, dead!” Joel’s eyes softened and concern devoured his face.

“I’m done trying to hold it together anymore. I’ve lost everything! And I don’t need you to make me feel worse about myself. I had to watch my mom and dad get attacked by the infected. First a runner took out my dad, and the next day he turned my mom. They were both gone so fast, and I had to watch it happen!” Tears started flowing down your eyes. Joel was listening intently, not making a sound. Concern grew on his face as he continued to listen. He took a step towards you and you took a step back.

“And then me and my brother were trying to escape Seattle. That’s where a massive outbreak happened. People were dying all around me, shops were being overrun, people were getting attacked in their own cars. It was a cold night, and the city was in chaos. Cars were burning up and down the streets, houses were being overrun with clickers, and people were dropping left and right. The infection spread so fast through the city. Me and my brother both ran as far as we could. We took the car and tried to skip town.” You caught your breath before you had to tell the worst part of all.

“Before we got out of town, I noticed something was wrong with my brother, Jason. His forehead was burning up and he was having trouble breathing, so we pulled the car over and got out. He started hyperventilating and making these weird noises. He sounded just like the infected that were overrunning the city. Not long after that his eyes turned blood red and he couldn’t talk. I watched him turn into one of those things before my eyes. I froze, I didn’t know what to do. I looked over for just one second, he knocked me on my back before I could react, and he was trying to get to my throat. I panicked and didn’t know what to do. I had a small handgun in my pocket and I forced the gun to his head.” Tears escaped your eyes as you struggled to finish the story.

“I… I had to shoot him before he killed me too. I should’ve just let him bite me because I died the day I lost my entire family. I..I,” you struggled to keep your train of thought as you started having a panic attack.

“I’m a murderer. I feel so guilty about it. He should’ve been here with me today. We both should’ve survived. Instead I’m left with the pain of that day that happened so many years ago. There’s not a day I don’t think about it.” Joel’s eyes looked so sad in that moment. It was almost like he was trying to reach for you. You ignored it and kept going.

“Do you know how hard it is to keep going day after day just to survive in this shitty world? I am tormented by that day every single day I have to keep living! Do you know how hard it is to get close to someone after that, after losing everything you ever cared about? And then you go and make me feel ten times worse about everything. What did I do to deserve that? You don’t even care...”

Tears took over as you broke down. You collapsed to the ground as you felt your heart shatter into shards of glass. Your vision blurred as the tears crashed around you. Your body started to shake, and you were so cold you just wanted to go lie down for a few days and forget you ever existed.

Suddenly strong arms were around you in an instant. You wanted to push Joel away, but you didn’t have the strength in you. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, embracing you firmly. He was so warm, especially with his thick, green plaid shirt soft against your arms.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. It’s gonna be okay,” he said soothingly as he took one of his hands and ran it up and down your back, trying to comfort you.

You sobbed even more as he held you in his arms. He had a gentle side, and you didn’t even know until now. You wanted to punch him or slap him hard in the face for every single mean thing he said to you, but you couldn’t. You had no more energy to fight back. You felt like you had just ran a marathon and got the wind knocked out of you, your breath shallow.

“But…but you said,” you started but Joel shushed you softly.

“Shhh. Forget what I said. I know I can be a real asshole. I don’t hate you though. I never did. I’m so sorry,” he said as he apologized into your ear. His breath was so warm, it felt as if a fire had started in you. He smelt like fresh firewood and mahogany. You could get intoxicated from the smell. His strong hold on you had you melting inside. If you weren’t falling for him before, you were now.

His chin rested gently on the top of your head as he ran a hand through your thick waves of hair. You felt as if you were laying on a beach, and a strong wave just crashed into you. Except this wave was refreshing and calm. It was like floating in the middle of the sea with nothing but peace and tranquility.

You don’t know how long you sat there. Maybe it was only a few minutes, or maybe it was half an hour. You couldn’t break away from Joel even if you tried. You wanted to stay wrapped in his embrace for as long as he’d let you.

“It’s okay, I got you,” he breathed. Every fiber of your being was latching onto Joel. All you could do in response was hold onto him tighter. You’d hold onto him for as long as you could. The only thing you feared now was losing him too.

Chapter 9

Series Masterlist

[giogio1998]

Fun facts about my art process:

Today I was making new JLI art and it got me thinking that I have the same ritual when it comes to drawing the JLI and some of them are very silly and fun so I wanted to share with you guys. Even if you don’t care, reading is important so just read the freaking post lol.

1- I hate drawing men !!! Seriously, drawing Martian and Batman is easy for me bc they have very easy features to draw like Batman’s mask and Martian’s nose. But every time I have to draw Ted, Booser and Guy it’s a struggle.

2- drawing Ted is the hardest, I think it’s bc I shipp Ted and Bea so I always try to draw Ted cuter than the other boys and that pressure makes it harder for me but drawing Ted is the bane of my existence.

3- idk why but Guy always ends up looking super hot. I swear it’s unintentional, but the man always looks so hot, sometimes I look at my drawings and I’m like “wtf Giovana why did u make him look so hot ? “

4- I like making Tora skin pinkish, mostly bc she has white hair so white hair and light skin would look very washed out but I like to think that her skin is like “ice burnt” (?). Idk if that’s a word, I’m Brazilian I’ve never felt cold in my life. All I know is sun burnt lol.

5- the opposite goes to Bea, I like to make her skin light bc, well she is in fact white Brazilian, but I like to make her hair color pop, that’s also why I give her black lipstick and eyebrows, it’s all about the hair.

6- Bea’s hair !!!! I always try to give her the best hair. I make it very voluminous, very wavy and very bright almost as if it’s on fire. I love her hair, also I’m trying to redeem her hair bc of the awful 80’s hair style that DC insists on giving her.

7- I listen to Hannah Montana while making my JLI arts … actually I love all the early 00s Disney channel music and I also listen to podcasts but I prefer listening to music while drawing.

8- if I don’t find a reference the drawing is not happening. Every artist struggles at something and my struggle is anatomy I can’t come up with poses, especially group poses so I’m always looking for references. Once I have my reference everything is fine but if I can’t visualize it I can’t draw it.

9- I love drawing booster’s suit, it’s just so shiny and easy to draw, Guy’s vest and Ted’s suit have too much detail so booster’s suit is just fun to draw.

10- I hate drawing booster’s hair tho I always think it looks stupid idk why I hate drawing short hair.

11- I love drawing skeets. I wish I would draw him more often tho. My reference for skeets is the justice league unlimited version.

12- speaking of references, when I draw Batman I almost always make his cape cover him completely bc I think he moves around like Dracula from hotel Transylvania LOL. Idk why but I treat him like the most unserious character ever.

13- I draw using photoshop, this isn’t a fun fact, that’s actually sad.

14- My laptop is an old Lenovo from 2017 and it crashes constantly. Usually I start and finish a drawing on the same day but sometimes my laptop decides otherwise.

15- my signature is my initials but one time someone commented that it’s looks like a “cursive B” and since then when I can’t get my signature just right I draw a cursive B instead and it works lol.

16- I always give Ted dimples, mainly bc dimples make him look even cuter but also bc I struggle with drawing men so I try to give them different characteristics to make them look unique.

17- I give every JLI member its own layer file while drawing and I always make it color coordinated. So Bea’s file is green, Ted’s is blue, Booster’s is yellow, etc.

18- I name all my layers and to keep my sanity I name them all with silly names like “bea’s million dollar hair”. “Boosters shiny ass suit”. “Tora’s blush she bought from MAC”.

19- I came up with Bea’s suit bc I always hated that she had normal looking clothes instead of a suit like everyone else so I came up with a new one and it was inspired by a pair of boots I saw on instagram once.

20- the JLI is my favorite thing to draw <3

That’s all I can come up with right now, hope this post encourages people to keep drawing bc most digital artists like to appear as if being good at drawing is a magical gift and they don’t struggle at anything. So this is my reality lol

Also the new JLI art will be coming out soon, stay tuned!!! Spoiler alert it’s a glee related post 🤫

[medaart]

couple more tavstarion WIP's because I have brainrot and want to talk about my OC's

my half of an art trade between me and @dogblessyoutascha of our tavs (please look at their half, it is really really good and makes me emotional). bg went through a couple different iterations because I didn't get the perspective right. backgrounds are the bane of my existence, but I know I need to get at least halfway decent at them if I want to do professional illustration work.

I'm still learning how to properly color in scars and so on & obviously there's no real life ref for what color a drow's scars would be so I hope I got it right.

poor ephane is probably mixing the exact chemicals that caused the explosion that caused bernadine's hair to go white and gave her the scars on her hands, she's about to have a BSOD moment.

ref of my tav and some of her favorite wild shape forms (and a plush of her scringly dingly boo boo bear boyfriend), she's probably going to be holding the necromancy of thay or s/t (wotc pls make chibi astarion plushies irl I am begging you)

still working on the pride month comic even tho pride month's come and gone at this point. again, stuck on the bg, I've never actually gotten a chance to go to pride irl so I wanted some appropriate booths with swag on sale or something and might need some suggestions.

I can't believe this is the first time I've drawn all the characters aside from astarion and gale, considering the entire cast is so fuckin' hot.

at some point I have to post the rough sketch I did when I was planning this all out because I didn't have the script fully figured out so it was like bernadine: I'm bi astarion: proud of you astarion: I know bernadine: haha holy shit boobs

lighting practice inspired by that "get the fuck up, it's morning" cameo request neil newbon did or whatever because it always makes me laugh

also yes that is a reference to the "toad making out with yoshi" meme or whatever it was

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Camp Wanamaker (Ch. 10/10)

October 30, 2023

Notes - I'm still alive! Honestly, this month has really taken it out of me, but I'm still kicking and that's all that matters. Not long after I posted about everything that's been happening, my car broke down on me, so that's not great, but I have a bicycle to get around to work and stuff, which is helping somewhat. For now, I'm staying optimistic and looking for a new vehicle, but I'm finally done with this chapter and I couldn't be more excited about that! Again, I'm sorry it took me so long to write this final part, but hopefully, 47 pages is enough to make up for all that time!

Chapter 10: Dancing Queen

Rays of golden light breached through tightly drawn curtains, the glow of early morning light forcing its way through the colored cotton blinds as the alarm clock beside the bed began its daily screech. Bleary blue eyes peeled open before scrunching shut again as Miles buried his face in his pillow. The night before, after the last camper left with their family, they had spent a few hours celebrating the end of the summer in the mess hall and had gotten back to their cabin around three in the morning. After having to carry Bentley to bed after he had fallen asleep in his bowl of melted ice cream and just barely making the effort to change before falling asleep, Miles was in no mood to be woken at seven on the dot.

It was his own fault, really. He could have turned his alarm off upon retiring to his room - he would have thrown the batteries across the room if he had taken the time to think about it - but he had barely had the thought to kick his shoes off before collapsing on his mattress in the wee hours of the morning. Lifting his head from the pillow he curled up on at some point in the maybe four hours since he fell asleep, Miles glared at the beeping clock on his nightstand. Pulling his arm from under the pillow, he lifted it lazily and reached over to the clock before slapping the top of it, effectively silencing the bane of his existence. 

With a soft sigh at the silence that filled the room, he opened the panel at the bottom, pried the batteries out of the clock, and disposed of them in the drawer before setting the clock back down and slumping back into the pillow he had scrunched into a ball. The pull of sleep was strong and, while all Miles wanted to do was curl back up, bury his face in his pillow, and let sleep claim him once more, he and Butchy had promised Royce and Bentley that they would take them to the mall to shop for Vivien’s birthday. He had no intentions of letting them down despite the exhaustion settling in his bones. 

While they had most everything already set aside, they needed some things for the party they had been told about the night before - something small and intimate that Vivien’s grandparents planned to host at their house. With grumbling complaints and aching limbs that had remained twisted in his sheets for the majority of his time asleep, Miles pushed himself to sit up, slowly stretching himself out before running his hands through his hair. The slowness with which he moved made Miles feel as though he was in his eighties - and, if his birthdate was anything to go by, he was - but as he glanced in the mirror across from his nightstand, he was glad to see he was still just a twenty-one-year-old. A sore, exhausted, far-too-mature-for-his-age twenty-one-year-old, but a twenty-one-year-old all the same.

Standing from his bed, he made his way to the mirror and slowly pulled his shirt off, examining the trio of bruises on his otherwise pale skin. The reddish-purple spots near his collar bones where Bentley’s bony elbows had dug in during his piggyback ride to the cabin were still sore and tender as he prodded them. He was sure the bruise on his hip was from where he had collided with the doorknob on his way out of his youngest brother’s room, but he felt as though he’d been hit with a truck at some point. Maybe it was just the exhaustion washing over him. Maybe it would all go away with time.

Tugging his shirt back on with a huff, Miles rubbed his eyes with his fists and made his way out of his bedroom, leaving the door open on his way into the living room. Glancing around the room and muttering a half-awake greeting to the occupants found within, Miles felt his eyebrow tugging upward as his head listed to the side. Three distinct troublemakers were nowhere to be found. Normally, when he made his way to the living room, Bentley would start pestering him for some abhorrent concoction while Royce muttered his disgust at his brother’s choices and Vivien harassed him for sleeping in or his alarm being just as obnoxious as his voice. However, Carrie’s door was still shut, and the only people in the living room were Mick and Butchy, the latter’s slumbering figure curled into his wife as she read.

Finding Mick’s amber eyes from over the top of her book, he softly asked, “Where are the kids?”

The brunette shrugged as she ran a hand through her husband’s hair, “I don’t think they’ve come down yet.”

Only further confused, Miles glanced toward the front windows and asked, “Are you sure they’re not outside?”

“Not unless they shimmied down the drain pipe,” she claimed. “I’ve been out here since five-thirty.”

Miles inwardly cringed at the thought of only getting two hours of sleep, but thanked the younger girl before making his way to the stairs, climbing them as quietly as he could so as to not wake anyone still fast asleep. Riven’s door across from the landing was open and Miles could see him messing around with his keyboard, a pair of headphones plugged into the instrument to keep the music from bothering anybody, and a notebook thick with scribbled writing next to him. With nobody else in the room, Miles continued onward, finding the door to Bentley’s room wide open. Leaning into the room, Miles quickly found it empty and rounded the banister toward the last two rooms on the upper floor.

From the hallway, Miles could see into Royce’s room. Unlike Bentley’s, the bed was made and the window was open to allow fresh air in throughout the day - evidence that he was already awake. Something Miles had to get accustomed to while Vivien resided in their house during vacation, was her leaving the door wide open all night. His brothers kept the door closed as the rattling of their ancient refrigerator knocking against the wall kept Royce up, and he left his door closed more out of habit than anything. Vivien, however, kept her door open for the most part. So, as he approached the last doorway in the hall, Miles kept close to the wall and knocked on the frame.

“Yeah?” a croaked voice responded.

“It’s me,” Miles began. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

Stepping across the threshold of the room, Miles couldn’t fight the grin that tugged at his lips. Royce was propped up against the headboard with a book in one hand and Vivien’s hair tangled around the other as she leaned against him. Bentley was on his back at the foot of the bed, his head just inches away from dangling off the side as one of Vivien’s legs was propped up on his stomach. The blanket covering the trio was a crocheted one that Mick had taken with her but relinquished to the children, and while it covered them all in some way, it was evident that none of them felt it necessary to stay warm.

“Hey,” Vivien croaked, offering the oldest of the brothers a wave as he stepped closer.

“Jeez, kiddo, you sound like shit,” Miles mused.

“Thanks,” she chuckled.

Bentley beamed, “I told her she sounds like that science teacher back home.”

“Huxley or Parker?” Miles questioned.

With a scoff, Bentley rolled his eyes, “We all know I don’t have the grades to qualify for Huxley’s class.”

Miles chuckled, “She does kind of sound like Pack-A-Day Parker.” 

“I hated her class,” Royce mused. “She had to keep a window open all winter just so she could smoke during tests.”

Vivien cleared her throat before saying, “Be grateful you guys don’t get snow.”

Bentley let out a snort of laughter and Royce smirked as Miles sat on the edge of the bed and asked, “So, why do you sound like that? You practiced all week and never sounded this bad.”

“I didn’t drink anything last night to help my throat,” Vivien shrugged. “It’ll go away sooner or later.”

“Not if you keep talking,” Royce sighed, sending his girlfriend a look as she stuck her tongue out at him. Rolling his eyes, Royce met Miles’ gaze and said, “She’s staying in bed today.”

“Or on the couch,” Bentley commented as Vivien opened her mouth to argue, earning him a grateful nod from the girl.

“How come?” Miles asked.

Instead of answering, Vivien shifted, lifting her left leg from Bentley’s abdomen and tugging it out from under the blanket before lifting it so Miles could see. Shades of angry red and deep violet circled around the girl’s ankle while faint speckles of bruising dotted her foot. Miles winced as he took in the rainbow of discoloration on the teen’s skin. Like Miles had been at her age, Vivien was accident-prone and, while he knew just how easily her skin turned colors, he hadn’t expected her to look this bad when she walked herself back to the cabin the night before. Last he knew, she was fine. She had complained that her feet were sore, sure, but she had quickly brushed it off and hobbled her way upstairs.

“What on earth did you do this time?” Miles asked as Vivien lowered her leg back onto the mattress.

“The heel of my shoe got caught in the deck on my way in last night,” she claimed. “My leg turned, but my foot didn’t.”

Royce quickly piped up, “I told her that it looks bad and that we should get it checked, but she just wants to rest it off.”

“‘Cause I’ve done it a zillion times before, Rolls,” Vivien sighed. “It’ll look bad for a few days and then I’ll be fine.”

Before his brother could argue the matter, Miles asked, “Are you sure, kiddo?”

Vivien was quick to nod, “I’m a figure skater; if I went to the hospital every time I got the slightest bit injured, I would never leave.”

“And you’re sure you’ll be better soon?” he pressed.

“Positive,” Vivien stated. “I’ll use the crutches I forgot to bring back to the health center to hobble around, and if I need anything, I’ll text someone for help.”

Miles nodded, more to himself than to Vivien, and said, “Well, I guess that means you won’t be going shopping with us today.”

“You guys are going shopping?” Vivien asked, a hint of disappointment evident in her voice as Royce’s wide eyes settled on his older brother.

“For souvenirs and a few things Mick needed from Walmart,” Miles shrugged, fighting a smirk as Royce relaxed a fraction.

“Oh,” Vivien breathed. Glancing at Bentley, she asked, “Could you grab my bag for me, please?”

“Sure,” the blond said as he pushed himself to sit up. Grabbing the bag dangling from the footboard, Bentley tossed it toward Vivien, smiling when the girl caught it before it could hit her in the stomach.

After thanking the boy, Vivien unzipped the mini backpack, rifling through the contents within before tugging her wallet from the abyss. She quickly fished two ten-dollar bills from the back fold and held them out to Miles before asking, “Can you pick me up a gel wrap? I think they should still be in the health department, but they might have moved them to the medical section with the walkers and canes.”

Miles pressed a hand over Vivien’s outstretched one and pushed it back as he nodded, “Sure, I’ll add it to the list.”

Once Miles’ hand moved, Vivien held the money out again, “I’m not letting you pay for it.”

Again, Miles pushed her hand back, smiling at how easily she allowed him to push back. “You have to. I’m not taking your money, kiddo.”

“Take the money.”

“You know I won’t.”

“But I want you to,” Vivien tried, swapping the money to her other hand and holding it out again. “Take it.”

Instead, Miles caught her by the wrist and pushed her arm down with a chuckle, “I’m not letting you pay for something you need; you know that.” Ruffling the girl’s hair, he rose from the bed and said, “You just worry about getting some rest.”

Vivien let out a resigned sigh as she shoved the money back into her wallet and tossed it back into her bag as Royce and Bentley got up from the bed, “I guess I’ll see you guys later, then.”

“Do you want help going downstairs?” Miles offered.

“Nah,” Vivien said with a shake of her head. “I’m good here.”

Miles nodded as Royce knelt on the bed, leaning over to press a kiss to Vivien’s forehead before stepping away, “We won’t be gone long.”

“I know,” Vivien said with a grin. “Have fun.”

Bentley quickly filled his brother’s spot, wrapping his arms around Vivien’s shoulders before backing up a step, “We’ll bring you ice cream on the way back.”

“Who said we’re stopping for ice cream?” Miles asked as he led the way to the door.

“I just did,” Bentley said with a smirk. “I promised Viv ice cream which means we have to stop now.”

“You are such a little shit.”

“Takes one to know one,” Bentley laughed.

Once his brothers had left, Royce turned to Vivien with a smile and shook his head, “Sorry about them.”

“Don’t be; I love them,” Vivien chuckled.

“Not as much as I love y-” Royce quickly cut himself off, coughing nervously before correcting himself, “Not as much as I love them.”

Either Vivien was oblivious to Royce’s quick slip or she just chose to ignore it as she smiled, “Probably not, but they’re practically my brothers now too, so…”

“Yeah,” Royce nodded. Giving his girlfriend a final embrace, he said, “If you want anything, shoot me a text and I’ll grab it.”

Vivien nodded, “Alright. Have fun.”

Smiling as he backed his way toward the door, Royce said, “It won’t be nearly as fun without you there.”

Vivien let out a snort of laughter, “That was cheesy.”

“Maybe,” Royce agreed as he stepped out of the room, “but it got you to smile.”

“It did,” Vivien relented. “Now, go before they leave without you.”

“See you later.”

“See you,” Vivien said with a final wave, watching her boyfriend leave before digging her phone out of the blankets and making her way to YouTube. Regardless of how long they would be gone, she would need some form of entertainment. As she found a playlist of one of her favorite YouTube gamers playing an apocalypse game she wanted to get, she tapped on it, hoping to be quickly immersed and forget the passing of time around her.

Royce had gotten up early when morning came around on Monday, grateful to see Vivien sitting on the couch with a cup of apple cider. Vivien had spent most of the day before in bed and, despite getting Riven to haul her downstairs to spend the evening with everyone in the living room, Royce was relieved to see that she was more motivated to move around on her own as Monday rolled around. He approached her from behind and tilted the headband of her headphones back before pressing a kiss to the top of her head, earning himself a smile and a spot on the couch beside his girlfriend. Though she claimed she was feeling much better after resting a full day and was able to walk fairly well without the crutches, she continued to keep her feet on a throw pillow she had propped up on the coffee table.

By the time everyone else had begun to join them, Vivien’s head was perched on Royce’s shoulder as he read aloud. However, their relatively peaceful morning was soon interrupted as someone knocked on the door. To everyone’s surprise, it was none other than Vivien’s dad, Damien, coming to ask if he could steal his daughter for the day as he would be away for work on her birthday. Vivien had, of course, quickly agreed and gotten herself ready before meeting her dad on the porch, waving a quick goodbye to everyone who would await her return before allowing her dad to wrap an arm around her and guide her away from the cabin.

With Vivien out of the picture for the day, the lodge's residents divided to get things ready for the girl’s birthday party. The small, gathering-type party with most of the staff members was no surprise as they celebrated everyone’s birthdays in one way or another, but the party her grandparents were planning for the end of the week, was supposed to be. As Charlie and Hayley enlisted the help of Butchy, Miles, and Riven to get decorations in order at the Hill House, Mick and Carrie made it their mission to follow the girl and her father through the mall to make sure she didn’t get anything they had already bought for her. That left Jade and Erica to help set up the mess hall while Royce and Bentley worked on wrapping the gifts they had stored on the top shelf of the pantry, tucked behind unopened packages of raisins, a box of generic brand oat bran cereal, and a box of snacks that they’d been given during a storm, but never touched.

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” Bentley asked as he eyed his brother.

“Yeah,” Royce huffed, tugging a piece of tape from his shirt, “why?”

“Because we both know you suck at wrapping gifts.”

“I do not.”

“Says the guy surrounded by wrapping paper and tape,” Bentley said with a snort as he set aside a neatly wrapped box with a violet bow glimmering on top of a satin ribbon. Multi-colored wrapping paper littered the floor of Bentley’s bedroom, cheerful fonts wishing everyone around a happy birthday as Royce struggled to get a piece of tape to stop folding back on itself.

Resigning to his fate, Royce extended the haphazardly wrapped gift to his brother and watched as Bentley peeled the tape off in one swipe and began fixing the paper. “I don’t know how you do this stuff so well.”

“And I don’t know how you can’t,” Bentley chuckled, swiftly rearranging the paper before beginning to fold it around the box. “It’s sort of like making a paper airplane.”

“Except that you have to hide a giant box inside the plane and hope it doesn’t show through,” Royce grumbled, watching as Bentley smoothed out the paper and taped it into place. “I’d rather sit through one of Mr. Baxter’s math quizzes than do this stuff.”

Bentley snickered as he handed Royce the neatly wrapped box and watched his brother slide it across the floor to the growing pile by the door. “And I would wrap giftsall day if it meant I didn’t have to sit through boring classes every day for another year.”

Royce shook his head, blowing a stray lock of curls from his eyes as he looked up at Bentley’s set of presents that had already been wrapped. “To each his own, I suppose.”

With a shrug, Bentley nodded and pushed himself off of his bed, crossing over to his closet where he quickly ditched the packages in the corner by his duffel bag. “So, what do we do now?”

Rising from the floor with a sigh, Royce gestured toward the presents he had bought for Vivien and said, “I’ve got to put these away, but after that, we can go help the others if you want.”

“Sure,” Bentley agreed, grabbing some of the gifts and allowing Royce to take the rest before following his brother to his room. As Royce began putting things away, Bentley asked, “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Go for it,” Royce said as he pushed the box Bentley had wrapped for him further on the top shelf of his closet. 

Handing Royce the gifts he had brought, Bentley asked, “What’s it like?”

Royce’s eyes flickered to Bentley as he pushed the closet door shut, “What do you mean?”

“Falling in love,” Bentley asked, perching himself on Royce’s bed. Once he had Royce’s attention, he said, “You and Vivien are young and neither of you have had a ton of experience before, but everyone can tell you love each other. Everyone else is older and most of them have been together a really long time, but you guys are pretty new to it all still, so I was just wondering how it feels from your perspective.”

Tugging his desk chair from under its oaken companion and wheeling it over near Bentley, Royce sighed, “Well, I don’t really know how to describe it, really. When we first got together, I was really clueless. I felt sick every time I was around her, but in a good way.”

Bentley’s head tilted like a confused golden retriever as he asked, “How can you feel sick in a good way?”

“I don’t know how else to explain it,” Royce chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with a shrug. “It was like the stereotypical stuff - butterflies, sweaty hands, wanting to be around her all the time and feeling lost when I wasn’t around her. Mickie told me once that I was like a lovesick puppy and it just kind of stuck with me.”

“But you’re still like that now,” Bentley mused.

“I guess so, yeah,” Royce nodded, “but with the right person, I guess that feeling never truly goes away.”

“Does it feel any different to you now that you’ve been together for almost a year?”

“A little,” Royce admitted. “At first, I was really lost on how relationships worked, but I knew I cared about her as more than just a friend. Now, it’s like I have this whole other person in my life who knows everything about me and cares about me, and likes who I am as a person. What makes it even better is that I care about her and her interests just as much, and I love who she is as a person.”

Bentley smiled, “How does that feel?”

“Incredible,” Royce breathed. Giving his brother’s question some thought, Royce took in a slow breath and confessed, “But sometimes, when she’s not around, it’s like there’s a magnet in my chest, tugging me toward where she is. When we’re home and she’s not there, it sort of hurts.”

“Maybe you could talk to Mickie and Butchy about it,” Bentley suggested. “They did the same thing, like, forever ago. Maybe they can help you.”

“Yeah,” Royce agreed, nodding as he met his brother’s aquamarine eyes. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

For the first time in a long time, Vivien found herself walking up to peace and quiet. With her siblings off doing their own things and keeping busy with sports over summer vacation, they had no ability to body-slam her awake first thing in the morning. Looking around the barren, sun-tanned walls of her small room, Vivien felt a faint pang of sadness in her chest. Although she told Abby and Oliver off for their antics every year, she sort of missed the bony elbows digging into her ribs and the cheerful morning greetings her siblings gave her every year. Sooner or later, they wouldn’t have those mornings anymore.

Her phone made a soft chirp and, as Vivien picked up the device, she found notifications from both of her siblings as well as her father. Abby’s video wishing her a happy birthday and promising to take her to the mall when they had the chance - at the expense of the gas in Vivien’s car, of course - was complimentary to Oliver’s kind-hearted message about wanting to spend the day with her once they had the chance, but both had given her the promise of presents when she got home. Her father had sent her a video as well, wishing her a happy birthday from the comfort of his car and promising her that, once he had a day off, he would take her out with her siblings to truly celebrate and that they would do whatever she wanted. After typing out a reply to both of her siblings and sending her dad a short video thanking him and hoping his meetings went well, Vivien pushed herself out from under her blankets to get dressed before heading downstairs, taking her hair brush and some elastics with her.

Though the living area was only populated by Bentley’s snoring form, she could hear conversations echoing from the back hall - a clear sign that some people were awake. Pulling her hair back into a ponytail, Vivien allowed a yawn through her lips and made her way to the kitchen. Turning into the room, she found Mick and Butchy standing by the stove, talking in hushed voices, while Carrie helped Riven and Royce with something on the counter. Watching the group interact with relative ease, Vivien smiled. It wasn’t often they got a chance to enjoy a peaceful morning.

Choosing to make her presence known, Vivien spoke, “Good morning.”

Though her appearance in the kitchen shouldn’t have been unusual, the collective jolt of surprise that rippled over everyone’s shoulders made it nearly impossible for Vivien to contain her laughter. Turning toward the birthday girl, Royce stepped forward, allowing Riven to slide into his empty spot to hide whatever they had been making. Bringing his girlfriend into an embrace, he wished her a happy birthday before asking, “What are you doing in here?”

“Getting something to snack on,” she replied almost cautiously as she leaned away from her boyfriend. “What are you guys doing? Normally, you guys wait for breakfast.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise, Pip,” Riven told her with a grin, gesturing to the tray he had attempted to hide. “Breakfast in bed.”

Carrie nodded in agreement, “Miles and Bentley were supposed to keep you out there with them until we came out.”

“I didn’t see Miles, but Bentley is sleeping on the couch,” Vivien said with a smile.

Butchy shook his head with a faint smile as he let out a sigh, “Of course he is.”

Vivien glanced around with a smile, “Anyway, I’ll forget I saw anything.”

“Good,” Mick said as she flipped a pancake. “It’s the only thing we’re allowed to do for you today since you won’t let us give you any presents; the least you can do is pretend you had no clue.”

With a roll of her eyes, Vivien sighed, “It’s just until my party.”

“How do you even know your grandparents are throwing you a party?” Royce asked. “If it’s a surprise party, that sort of defeats the purpose.”

“They always throw me some sort of party once camp is closed for the season,” Vivien claimed. “Chances are, they’ll have a small, family-and-close-friends party at the park or the beach by the end of the week.”

“Well,” Butchy began, “since you’re so sure, piccola, why don’t you go read or something so we don’t burn the surprise breakfast you don’t know about?”

With a smirk, Vivien raised her hand and flipped him off, giggling at the matching one he sent her in return. Vivien chuckled, “Love you too.”

Stepping away from the stove as she urged Butchy to get back to work on what they were cooking, Mick smiled at Vivien and suggested, “Why don’t you go try to find Miles? Maybe you can rope him and Bentley into playing a video game with you or something until we finish up here.”

Taking a glance around the room, Vivien nodded, “Sure.”

Thanking the girl, Mick said, “We’ll come find you when we’re done.”

With another nod, Vivien stepped out of the kitchen and heard everyone begin to return to their previous tasks as she began walking back to the living room where Bentley was still sleeping the morning away with his face indented with lines from the couch cushions and a throw blanket. Fighting an amused snort, Vivien fondly shook her head and rounded the couch, heading up to the door of Miles’ bedroom. Though the door was cracked open, she still knocked, listening to him fumble around inside until the door pulled open.

The raised eyebrow he gave her made Vivien smirk, but he was quick to ask, “When did you come downstairs?”

“A few minutes ago,” she replied. “Can I come in? Bentley’s asleep on the couch and I don’t want to wake him.”

Stepping aside, Miles allowed the girl into his room before asking, “You didn’t go into the kitchen, did you?”

Sitting on the edge of Miles’ bed, she nodded, “I did, but they said you were supposed to keep me out.”

Miles let out a sigh as he crossed the room, “I asked Benny to cover for me so I could get stuff done in here.”

“What stuff?” 

“You’ll see eventually,” Miles said with a grin, “now scoot.”

Shuffling further down the bed with a smile, Vivien asked, “So, what did you get me?”

Miles scoffed as he filled the space Vivien vacated, “As if I’d tell you.”

“I’ll start guessing.”

“You really want to spoil your surprise now?” Miles questioned, knowing full well that he couldn’t stop her. “You just have to wait until the party.”

“Yeah,” Vivien sighed, “but that’s days away. I like tormenting you now.”

“When don’t you?”

Instead of answering Miles’ rhetorical question, she asked, “Is it… a dinosaur?”

“I’m not telling you,” Miles smirked, prying the brush from the girl’s hand and pushing himself further back on the bed so that he could sit behind her.

“That doesn’t mean I’m stopping anytime soon,” Vivien grinned. Glancing back at Miles, she asked, “Two braids, please?”

“Of course.” Splitting the girl’s hair down the center of her head, he said, “Now, go on, pester me some more.”

“Alright. Is it a puppy?”

Glancing at the girl’s reflection in the mirror across from them, Miles asked, “You already have that horse of a dog at your house and your grandparents’ dog - why would you need another?”

“You can never have too many dogs,” Vivien beamed. “Is it a set of tickets to the Eras tour?”

“I thought you said Taylor Swift is overseas now?” Miles mused as he began weaving one side of Vivien’s hair into a braid.

“She is, but she’s coming back,” Vivien shrugged. “She’ll be back in the States around Halloween.”

Sighing, Miles shook his head, “Well, either way, the answer is no.”

“Well, damn,” Vivien sighed, “I give up.”

“‘Bout time.”

With a snort, Vivien resigned to watching Miles work on her hair. It never took him long once he reached the back of her neck, but she found it interesting how thorough he was with the rest of her hair. Ever since her stay at his house, she discovered he was the best braider around - apart from her Nonna or Charlie, of course. Unlike when her mother would braid her hair before competitions, Miles never yanked her head in the direction he needed her to sit in or tugged close to her scalp to keep things neat. He was methodical, sure, but Miles always took his time with her, making sure there weren’t a lot of stray hairs and that the braids were near-perfect while also being gentle with her. Vivien smiled to herself as Miles began working his way through her hair - he was a good brother.

As though he felt the girl’s gaze on him, Miles looked up at the mirror, smiling confusedly at Vivien’s reflection as he asked, “What’s up, kiddo?”

“Just thinking,” Vivien shrugged.

“That’s dangerous.”

“Oh ha ha.”

Smirking, he asked, “What are you thinking about?”

Taking in a deep breath, Vivien sighed, “It’s almost time for school.”

“Yeah.”

“And, since I’m doing a joint year, this is my last year of school,” she continued.

As Miles tied off the bottom of Vivien’s hair, he brought his hands to her shoulders and smiled at her reflection as he told her, “And you know how proud everyone is of you.”

“I do,” she nodded, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s just…” 

“What?”

“I have no idea what I’m going to do next,” she breathed.

Bringing the brush through the other side of Vivien’s hair, Miles asked, “Who says you have to make up your mind now?” Once Vivien’s gaze met his in the mirror, he continued, “You have an extra year to figure things out for yourself, Viv. You’re still a kid.”

“I know,” Vivien said. “It’s just that my mom wants me to go off and be a lawyer or something - to make something of myself - and my dad just wants me to be happy, but I don’t even know what I want anymore.”

Hands stilling against Vivien’s head, Miles asked, “What do you mean?”

“I thought I had everything figured out,” Vivien sighed. “I wanted to go to Harvard like Aunt Hayley and Charlie, make a name for myself, and then figure everything else out. Now, it’s like everything’s changed.”

“How so?”

Taking in a slow breath, she explained, “When I spent time with you guys for my break, it felt like I didn’t have to be anybody other than myself. I could just be me and that was enough. It made me realize that, even if I graduate with a four-point-oh GPA and get accepted to Harvard Law School, that won’t make me happy.”

Allowing Vivien’s words to settle in the air, Miles continued to braid her hair and gave her a moment to process her thoughts before asking, “What would make you happy?”

“I don't know.” Sucking in a breath, Vivien admitted, “I’m happy with Royce and I know that, when the time comes, I’d be more than willing to live both in your world and mine the way that Mickie does. I’m happy here at camp and I can see myself helping run the place when Grandpa George and Nonna decide to retire.”

Nodding, Miles asked, “What about school? Do you want to go to college someday?”

Vivien was quick to nod, her movements small so as to not mess up Miles’ hard work, “I do. Harvard has always been a dream of mine and my guidance counselor said I could easily be accepted. They have a great volleyball team and a figure skating club I could join to keep up my practices.”

With a smile, Miles said, “That would be great. What program would you do if you had the choice?”

“Astronomy or robotics,” Vivien decided. “I love space; my final project for last year was on the uncharted parts of the Milky Way, for crying out loud, but robotics has always been interesting to me. I used to build things with Aunt Hayley and Mick’s dad on the weekends and I was the state champion for the battle bot championship over April vacation.”

“Astronomy or robotics, huh?” Miles mused. When Vivien nodded, he smiled, “I could see you doing well in either.”

Vivien smiled, grateful for the older boy’s encouragement, “It just feels like I would be letting people down if I pick something that isn’t what they think would pay well.”

“Since when have you ever given a shit what people think about you?”

“I know, it’s just-”

“You don’t want to let the people you love down.”

“Yeah.”

“Believe me, I know how that goes,” Miles huffed.

“You do?” Vivien asked, her eyebrow lifting past the edge of her bangs.

Miles nodded, “My dad wasn’t always a deadbeat. I remember him saying that I should go on to be a doctor or something to drag us out from under the poverty line since he couldn’t. He was injured in the service and couldn’t go back to his job as a carpenter. My mom never wanted that, though. Her old journals were filled with things she wanted for us - happiness, adventure, and a life full of love. I decided that even if it pissed off my dad, I wanted to be happy like my mom hoped I would.”

Vivien hummed thoughtfully, “Was that why you moved out?”

“No,” Miles chuckled as he tied off her hair. “That’s a story for another time, kid.”

“So, what did you want to do?”

“Well,” Miles began as he moved out from behind Vivien, “if things had gone the way I planned, I would have gone to college on a football scholarship and eventually gone on to be a teacher or a guidance counselor. I just wanted to be there to help kids find their full potential.”

The more Vivien thought about it, the more it sort of made sense. She had learned over her time in his house that Miles was a responsible sort of person and a great teacher, but picturing him in front of a class of rugrat children, teaching them math problems didn’t feel right. “What kind of teacher would you have been?”

“English, history, or automotive,” Miles claimed as he set Vivien’s hairbrush in the girl’s hand.

Vivien let out a breath of laughter, “You would have been like Mr. Turner if you taught English.”

“Mr. Turner?” Miles echoed.

With a shake of her head, Vivien brushed off the older male, “It’s from a nineties show. We’ll watch it sometime this week. Anyway, the point is that you would have been a cool teacher.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” Vivien said. “I mean, you’ve been great with all the kids this summer and you’re amazing with me and the boys. If you can handle us, you can handle anything.”

Miles chuckled, “Well, to be fair, I didn’t have much of a choice in handling the three of you this summer.”

“No,” Vivien agreed, “but you did have a choice when I stayed with you guys for a while.”

“We all liked having you there,” Miles claimed.

With a teasing smirk, Vivien nudged Miles with her elbow and scoffed, “Yeah, because I got all the work done that you’d been putting off.”

Rolling his eyes, Miles nudged her back, “You and I both know that isn’t the reason.”

“I know,” Vivien said as she let her head land on Miles’ shoulder. “I actually kind of miss living with you guys.”

“You do?” Miles wondered, leaning his cheek against the top of Vivien’s head.

Vivien hummed, “I love staying with my parents, don’t get me wrong, but it feels like my dad is the only one who cares anymore. My mom’s always too busy to give a shit. I mean, you were there at the closing performance - she never even showed.”

“Your dad said she was busy,” Miles tried.

With a roll of her eyes that Miles couldn’t see, Vivien scoffed, “Yeah, busy making some big dinner to celebrate Abby’s soccer team winning their first match of the season.”

“But Abby-”

“Was there? Yeah, I know.” Vivien lifted her head with a huff, “Abby and Olly would have been here this summer if mom wasn’t up their asses all summer, pushing them into every sport imaginable.”

“Why does she push them so much?” Miles wondered aloud. “They’re not little robots.”

“No, but she wishes they were,” Vivien sighed. “Since she works for the state, she thinks her ‘family image’ is all that matters. If people see her kids being high achievers, they’ll see her in a positive light and keep electing her to keep her position. I don’t fit inside the mold anymore, so she pushes everything onto the twins.”

“That’s a bunch of bullshit.”

“Yeah,” Vivien nodded as she rose from the bed. “That’s why I liked staying with you guys; there was no pressure to be anything other than myself.”

Standing, Miles offered the girl a smile and said, “Well, you’re always welcome to stay with us.”

Thanking the older boy, Vivien smiled as she made her way to the door of his room. An open-door policy like that was definitely needed. The more her mother ramped up the pressure, the more she just wanted to up and leave. The only thing was, she didn’t feel like abandoning her dad and siblings; they didn’t deserve to put up with the torture alone. That didn’t mean she couldn’t take vacations there as she had over her break, spending weeks or months in a never-ending summer with a group of people who cared about her without strings attached. 

Reaching for the door handle, Vivien slowly turned toward Miles and said, “Maybe that’s what I could do.”

Miles’ head tipped in confusion, clearly not following the girl’s train of thought, “What?”

“Maybe I could spend my gap year with you guys!” Vivien exclaimed. “I mean, obviously, I don’t have to just stay with you and the boys if you don’t want me there for that long, and I might have everything figured out before the year is up, but I could spend time in your world and figure out what I really want without my mom breathing down my neck or worrying about being away from my siblings for long. I could work at Big Momma’s or the record shop or something to help with bills and still have the chance to figure things out before I go to college.”

Eyeing the girl as he took in the information she had practically spewed his way, Miles grinned, “That’s a great idea, kiddo, but shouldn’t you talk it over with your parents first?”

“My dad will say yes,” Vivien said confidently. “He has my best interests at heart and, if I explain to him that it would help me sort out my future, I’m sure he’ll be fine with it.”

“And your mom?”

Vivien shrugged, “If Dad agrees first, she won’t argue. It’s part of some deal they made in the divorce. If I talk with Dad first, everything would be fine.”

“In that case,” Miles began, “I don’t see any issue with it.”

With an excited squeal, Vivien bounced on her feet before lurching forward, bringing her arms around Miles’ middle. As the girl’s snake-like arms tightened around him, Miles smiled and brought his arms around her shoulders. Listening to the girl ramble against him, prattling off about all the things she would do and how hard she planned on working to make it all work during her stay, Miles merely chuckled and assured her that she didn’t need to plan anything just yet. As Vivien began to lean away, the door slammed open behind her, making both Vivien and Miles jump, whirling around to see who had barged in.

A dazed Bentley stood in the doorway, the imprint of the blanket and pillow he had been curled up with still lined in red on his cheek as his hair stuck out in every direction and his wide blue eyes scanned the room. Once his gaze landed on Miles and Vivien, he breathed, “How long was I asleep?”

“Long enough, by the look of it,” Miles chuckled.

“Yep,” Vivien nodded. “Disney now owns all of Florida, Elon Musk bought the moon, and we brought the Sanderson Sisters back from the dead again to make a third movie.”

Bentley’s sleep-riddled brain took a while to process Vivien’s claims, but when he finally caught up with it, he smirked, “So nothing’s changed?”

“Nothing apart from my age,” Vivien shrugged, patting the blond on the shoulder as she ducked around him to head back to the living room. “Now, come on, my dad got me some games yesterday and I plan on beating you both.”

“You’re so on!” Bentley laughed.

“Yeah,” Miles agreed as he followed the pair out to the couch. “Just because you’re the birthday girl, doesn’t mean you get a free win.”

“Game on, boys,” Vivien beamed as she grabbed a controller from the coffee table.

At dinnertime that evening, as everyone gathered in the mess hall, those who worked in the kitchen set out the cake and cupcakes that Erica, Jade, and Vivien’s aunts had worked on. The camp had celebrated birthdays throughout the summer, making sure cake and ice cream were available on Fridays so that everyone who had a birthday during the week could celebrate, but as the staff’s end-of-year party was going to happen on Friday and they had a lot of work to do for the next two days, Vivien’s birthday party would have to happen on Tuesday.

Pulling her to the front of the room as they did to anyone with a birthday during the week, George and Dawn kept their granddaughter between them and called everyone’s attention to them. Vivien’s hatred of the spotlight was on full display as her face burned while everyone sang her Happy Birthday. However, before she could scurry back to her normal table and bury her face in a bowl of ice cream, Dawn’s hand gripped her shoulder, keeping her rooted in place once the song was over.

Glancing between her grandparents in confusion, Vivien felt herself shrink under everyone’s gazes as her grandfather began to speak, “As most, if not all of you know, Vivien here is our granddaughter.”

“Whoo!” Noah hollered from his table to which Vivien rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, Vivi!” Erica shouted, earning herself a glare from the brunette.

“Anyway,” George continued, amusement evident in his tone, “as you know, Vivien has been our little helper through the years - both during her time as a camper and as a member of our staff. Over her time here, we have watched her grow and mature.”

“In some ways more than others,” Dawn said as she nudged her granddaughter with a grin.

“It is because of this growing maturity that, starting next year, she will be training to take over this camp,” George claimed, smiling as Vivien’s wide, green eyes found his. Murmurs of confusion fluttered through the room as people began questioning what they were told. Raising a hand to silence the staff before him, George continued, “We have no intention of leaving anytime soon, even when she takes over, but we want this camp to stay in good hands for generations to come and this is the start of making sure that happens.”

Dawn nodded before explaining, “Vivien won’t be alone in this endeavor as our daughter, Hayley, and her wife, Charlotte, plan on helping her in every way possible.”

“Damn straight!” Hayley said, making a round of laughter echo through the log building.

Vivien smiled as her aunts lifted their cups of juice in a sort of toast. Before she could say anything, her grandfather said, “I know this all will take some time to adjust to and, while it will be a while before everything is said and done, we hope you all will continue to stick around for Vivien as you have for us.”

Without allowing anyone to argue the point, Dawn plastered a smile on her face and gestured toward the dessert table as she said, “Now, come on everybody! Let’s celebrate! There’s cake and ice cream for everyone.”

As her grandparents began walking away and some of the staff started making their way up to get something to eat, Vivien dodged anybody coming her way and slid into her usual spot at the table, wedged between a cockily smirking Riven and a smiling Royce. As Riven teased her for her lobster-red face, Royce’s hand found hers as he said, “That was great. I’m so excited for you.”

“That was embarrassing,” she sighed, flipping Riven off as he teased her some more.

“At least you chose to not change into your pajamas before coming down for dinner,” Riven joked. “Can only imagine how you’d feel if you had to stand in front of everyone, wearing your roller skate pajamas.”

Leveling Riven with a glare, Vivien muttered, “Another word out of you and I’ll kill you in your sleep.”

“You won’t.”

“I will.”

“For some reason, I highly doubt that,” Riven chortled. “You love me too much to kill me.”

With a smirk, Vivien leaned closer to Riven’s face and hissed, “Try me, bitch.”

For their final full day at Camp Wanamaker, the staff got to work making sure everything was put away and ready for the next season. Linens that had been put into the wash the day before were folded and tucked away into cabinets and storage rooms while anything that didn’t belong to the camp was tossed into duffel bags or suitcases. The last sweep of the pool was finished fairly quickly, leaves and debris scooped out before the water was drained to prevent cracking and mold. Musical instruments were placed into cases and set into storage rooms for safekeeping. Everyone wanted things put away in their rightful places by the end of the day so that they could enjoy the staff party at the end of the day without having to worry about getting back to work putting things away.

Almost everything was taken care of not long after lunch as the sun took the slight edge of an autumn chill out of the air. However, there was still one place that looked as though a tornado had blown through it: the playhouse. After the performance on Saturday, everyone involved was too busy letting themselves come down from the adrenaline rush or working themselves down to a relatively normal way of life to take the time to clean the aftermath. Chairs remained in somewhat uniform rows, pamphlets and snack wrappers littered around the floors, and everything that had been on the stage during the final number was left where it needed to be at the time.

So, once he was done cleaning the already fairly neat library, Royce dragged himself over to the playhouse to offer help in any way he could. Riven, who was busy folding chairs and placing them on rolling racks, was quick to direct the teen to Carrie, telling him that she needed help sorting through all of the costumes and supplies in the dressing rooms. Reluctantly, Royce sucked in a breath and nodded with a tight smile before making his way to the back of the stage. He had promised Vivien he would be on his best behavior with Carrie until the end of their stay and, while it had gotten quite a bit easier to act nice with her, he still rolled his eyes at the thought of spending any one-on-one time with her.

Though he felt they had a few moments where things with Carrie weren’t so bad, finding her sitting on the floor in one of the dressing rooms, surrounded by a mountain of vintage clothes, was not one of those moments. The blonde’s normally tame hair rivaled Royce’s chaotic chocolate curls, testing the strength of the scrunchie she had borrowed from Vivien as she let out a noise of frustration. Normally, a quip about Carrie dirtying her designer shorts would be the first thing out of Royce’s mouth in that situation. However, as he took in how stressed the blonde appeared, he swallowed his comments and tapped on the door with his knuckles.

Whipping around to see who had entered, Carrie let out a defeated breath as she remarked, “If you’re going to tell me that it looks like a Barbie doll’s closet threw up in here, I already know.”

Reducing the bark of laughter he wanted to let out to nothing more than a smirk, Royce said, “I was actually just going to offer help, but that works too.”

Raising a skeptical brow, Carrie slowly questioned, “You want to help me?”

“Riven said you need help and, from the look of things,” Royce glanced around the piles of clothes and chuckled, “I think he was right.”

“So you’re not here to harass me on your way to help Charlie or something?” Carrie wondered.

“Oddly enough, no,” Royce said with a shake of his head as he cautiously stepped into the room. “I genuinely want to help so you guys can enjoy the party.”

Despite still feeling rather skeptical, Carie shrugged and said, “Well, get comfy then because we have a lot of work to do.”

Pushing some clothes aside to make room for him to sit on the floor, Royce sighed, “What first?”

“I don’t actually know,” Carrie huffed, blowing a lock of curls from her face. “I was going to go by color, but then chose to go by size, and now I don’t know what to do other than shove everything in the closet and hope for the best.”

A half-snort of laughter later, Royce chuckled, “Yeah, ‘cause that would be great for them to deal with next year. Just open it up and out comes an avalanche of clothes from the sixties.”

“Well, what do you suggest?”

“I have two ideas,” Royce mused as he looked over the mountainous mile. “We can either just go by size and organize everything in bins with the largest sizes at the bottom and work our way up or we can call Vivien and have her go through all of this.”

“Why would we need Vivien to do this?” Carrie questioned as she picked a shirt up from the pile.

“She’s a pro at organization and her ADHD makes it impossible for her to stop once she’s started a project,” Royce explained. “She’d get it done in no time.”

“How did you figure that out?”

Royce chuckled as he began folding a pair of pants, “When she stayed with us, she took one look at the room Ben and I share, and took two whole days to clean it all before moving on to the rest of the house.”

“Well, damn,” Carrie breathed. “Maybe I could get her to help the wardrobe department organize their disaster area.”

“Knowing her,” Royce began, “she’d probably like that.”

Humming in agreement, Carrie grabbed another article of clothing and began folding it. The calm silence between them wasn’t nearly as awkward as she thought it would be. It was one thing for him to be nice to her for Vivien’s sake, but it was another entirely for him to offer to help as well as keep any snide comments to himself. As mildly off-putting as it was for the two of them to not be at each other’s throats, Carrie found herself grinning at the thought of having a nice conversation with the seventeen-year-old. Watching Royce begin sorting his side of the pile into separate sizes, Carrie cleared her throat and said, “You know, I think this is the longest we’ve gone without arguing.”

Glancing up at the blonde, Royce smirked, “Would you prefer it if I was rude to you?”

“Not particularly,” Carrie chuckled. “It’s just nice, that’s all.”

Despite the shrug he gave, Royce nodded, “I’m still not the biggest fan of you or your relationships with the people I care about, but I have to say, you’re not half bad when you’re not acting like some big shot actress with her head up her ass.”

“Tell me how you really feel, why don’t you,” Carrie laughed.

Royce’s grin returned, “I just did.”

“You don’t hold back at all, huh?”

“It’s easier to just speak your mind,” Royce shrugged. 

Pausing to think about the boy’s words, Carrie asked, “Do you really think I have my head up my ass?”

“If I’m being honest, I’d have to say that, recently, you’ve been okay,” Royce admitted. “You were far worse when I first met you. Remember that day at the pool?”

Carrie shuddered at the thought. Her first outing with Miles’ family and close friends still kept her up at night from time to time. The immediate rejection by both Royce and Bentley, the feeling of being ostracized by practically everyone, and getting shoved in the pool by one of Miles’ closest friends all made that day memorable, but certainly not in a good way. No matter what she did that day, nothing brought her closer to the people Miles loved most. Nodding to Royce, Carrie sighed, “Sadly.”

“Well, coming home to see you, of all people, dating my brother wasn’t great,” Royce began, “but watching you go full-tilt diva at the pool did you no favors.”

“Yeah,” she breathed. Carrie pushed aside a stack of neatly folded clothes and asked, “Had you seen me before then? Did you watch my shows or something?”

“Hell no,” Royce scoffed. “I was never into drama in school, why on earth would I watch a show about the stuff I tried to avoid?”

“But you knew me?”

“Your face was plastered on magazines and the inside of people’s lockers,” he shrugged. “It doesn’t take a genius to know who you are.”

Carrie nodded in understanding. Surely, if Royce had heard kids at school talking about her, it must have been surreal walking into the house and seeing her there. Their first meeting was awkward all around, but they had made at least a handful of small strides since then, and Carrie couldn’t have been more grateful for that. As Royce began filling a plastic bin with clothes, she asked, “So, uh, how are you feeling about spending the rest of the week at Vivi’s grandparent’s house?”

Royce sighed, discretely rolling his eyes before turning back to Carrie, “I’m okay, I guess. It’s going to be a long few days.”

“How come?”

“I haven’t done anything like this before,” Royce claimed. “I don’t exactly like spending nights in odd places and, on top of that, I have to spend the entire time doing my best to impress her family.”

“You won’t have to work hard at that,” Carrie said with a smile, hoping Royce would take it in a somewhat comforting way.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, unlike my first time spending the night at your house, you already have a good relationship with your significant other's family.” Moving to sit cross-legged as she met the boy’s caramel eyes, Carrie said, “I had to sit through a lot of awkward tension and feel the wrath of two teenagers who wanted nothing more than to get me out of their home, but you know that Chief and Nonna love you already.”

“How would you know that?” 

“Because they talk about you like you’re their grandson,” Carrie said with a smile. “I sat in a meeting with them, listening to them talk about how proud they are of everyone. They had a lot to say about how cute you and Vivi are.”

“They did?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Carrie chuckled. “You guys are adorable together.”

Royce shook his head, “I doubt they said that.”

“It’s the truth,” Carrie shrugged. “They adore you and Bentley just like everyone else does. You’ll be fine.”

Eyeing the blonde, Royce asked, “How can I be sure you’re not just messing with me?”

“With how well we typically get along, you can’t,” Carrie claimed. “But just know that I wouldn’t screw with your relationship like that. The two of you are too cute for me to want to do that to you guys.”

“I don’t think we’re that cute,” Royce tried, hoping the roll of his eyes was enough to mask his gradually warming face, “but thanks.”

“You’re right,” Carrie nodded. “You two are adorable.”

“No.”

Carrie smirked, “Fight it all you want, but you two are like two little kittens curled up in a little basket - adorable.” 

“We are not.”

“You absolutely are,” Carrie laughed. “I mean, I may have my head up my ass sometimes, but even I can see that.”

Finding himself unable to fight the grin Carrie’s mildly self-deprecating jibe brought to his face, Royce turned his gaze back to the clothes piles before him and muttered, “Shut up.”

In return, Carrie only laughed.

The staff’s late-night party went far past the usual call of lights-out, but none of the people attending the party seemed to mind. Thursday morning, however, made nearly everyone in attendance regret their decision. As counselors and other staff members trudged their way out of their cabins with bags full of their belongings now bursting at the seams, a handful of workers set out trays of food and made sure the buses that were scheduled to arrive were prepared to bring everyone where they needed to go.

Perched on the porch with her faithful, canine companion by her side, Vivien watched as people dragged themselves up the steps of the mess hall, tossing their belongings in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. While some gave her grunts of acknowledgment or fleeting greetings as they passed, some just waved as they headed inside. After having a cup or two of punch, Bentley joined her in watching the parade of sluggish staff members, making sure Ding was given the attention he deserved as they talked about their plans for the day. 

By the time breakfast was over, a few buses from the next town over had arrived to bring some of the local workers home. With coffee in their systems and the promise of relaxing for a couple of days before going back to school, work, and normal life, people ditched their trays in the collection bin by the door and scurried outside to find a good seat on the buses that awaited. Those who didn’t need a ride piled into their cars and took off after making sure they had all of their things tucked in the trunk or back seat. A handful of people offered rides to their friends whereas the international staff hugged their new friends for the last time before getting on the shuttle that would bring them to the nearest airport.

With everything loaded in the back of her car, Vivien took her spot on the deck of the main office, waving goodbye to those she knew well as they left. Riley Nicholls pulled herself away from her mom before rushing up the stairs to give Vivien a quick hug, thanking her for helping Noah work up the courage to ask her out and promising to try to keep in touch before joining her mother and sister at the car. Noah wasn’t far behind, but Vivien met him halfway, the two of them taunting each other before Vivien watched him leave. 

Once everyone had left and the buildings were locked for the time being, Dawn and George made sure that everyone who was leaving with them had gotten all of their things together before heading to the old car they had left parked in front of the main office. Following the oldest members of their group, Butchy made sure to keep close behind Vivien and her grandparents’ vehicles as they pulled out of the end of the street and turned toward the house on the hill. The trip only took a few minutes and, as they pulled into the driveway, George lifted the garage door and pulled inside, allowing the others to park just outside it.

Depositing their bags by the stairs, Dawn led the group to the living room before grabbing Vivien and heading to the kitchen to make some food for dinner. Grabbing a pot from the cupboard, the older woman turned to her granddaughter and said, “I hope you know that you’re not sleeping with him tonight.”

Taken aback by her grandmother’s words, Vivien turned to her with a raised eyebrow and wide eyes, “Why on earth would I want to?”

“I was a teenager once, baby girl,” Dawn said with a small grin. “If there was no other option, I would let it happen, but where his brothers are here and there is enough space for everyone, I don’t think it would be the greatest idea.”

Thinking for a moment about Dawn’s words, Vivien closed her eyes and let out a breath of a laugh before asking, “You’re talking about us sharing a room, aren’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” Dawn nodded, “what else would I be talking about?”

“Sharing a bed and sleeping together are two totally different things, Nonna,” Vivien chuckled. 

“Well, I certainly didn’t think I had to worry about you two going at it,” Dawn claimed with a smile as she set the pot in the sink and turned on the tap. “As far as I know, you two haven’t even kissed yet.”

“We haven’t,” Vivien confirmed as she pulled two boxes of Hamburger Helper from the pantry. “And, for the record, we’ve shared a bed before, but I wasn’t going to ask if we could.”

Setting the pot of water on the stove, Dawn turned to her granddaughter and asked, “Miles was alright with that?”

“There was nothing inappropriate about it,” Vivien shrugged. “Besides, Royce normally shares a room with Bentley, so it wasn’t a big deal.”

Dawn examined Vivien’s expression, searching for anything that might give away that what she said wasn’t true, but after a moment she shrugged, “Alright, well, maybe I can talk with your grandfather about it.”

“That’s alright,” Vivien said, dismissively brushing off the idea with a wave of her hand. “I’ll just take my regular room.”

Watching Vivien read over the instructions on the box, Dawn smiled, “If you’re sure.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Vivien set the boxes down and made her way to the fridge to retrieve the meat they had taken from the freezer to thaw. Turning toward her grandmother, she asked, “Am I rooming with anybody?”

“It depends, really,” Dawn explained. “I’m sure your aunts, as well as Mick and Butchy, would want to have rooms to themselves, but I’m not sure about your friends - Jade and Erica - or Miles and Carrie.”

Vivien glanced toward the hallway and said, “I don’t know, but my guess would be that they’d be down to share.”

“That leaves the boys and Riven.”

“It does.”

“What do you suggest we do?”

Vivien shrugged, “Well, the boys already share a room at their house and at Mick’s family cabin, so I doubt that would be an issue, and Riven and I have shared a room before during competition weeks.”

“And you don’t mind having him there?” Dawn asked.

“Apart from his incessant snoring, no,” Vivien chuckled. “If I get sick of him, I can always kick him off the bed or make him sleep on the couch or something.”

“Vivien,” the older woman said somewhat sternly.

“What?” Vivien asked innocently. “You can’t honestly say you haven’t kicked Grandpa out of bed before.”

“Fair enough.”

To most in the house, Friday flew by. Determined to spend time with the people in their home, George and Dawn pulled some of their old photo albums from a box in the basement and set them out on the coffee table for everyone to look through. While others found pictures of the couple’s wedding and images taken throughout the vacations they took together before having children, Vivien found herself drawn to the thick book of pictures from the eighties. As the colors of everyday objects and clothing shifted from the beiges and browns of the late seventies to the wild patterns and vibrant neons of the late eighties, Vivien found herself smiling at how young her grandparents looked.

Acid wash denim and loudly patterned sweaters were commonplace by the time she reached 1985. Seeing pictures of her mom and aunt as babies and watching them grow was fascinating, but so was the fashion her grandparents shoved their toddlers into. Pastel corduroy pants, delicately designed sweaters with cartoon characters hand sewn into the front, oversized tops and high-waisted pants, all complimented by fluffy bangs and hair stiffened by enough Aqua Net to poke a hole in the ozone layer. As interesting as it was to see her grandparents spending their twenties in a decade of eclectic style choices, Vivien wondered if they knew at the time how their style choices would be perceived so many years later. Then again, she knew the styles she wore in her earlier years would be considered atrocious by the time her family had another few generations.

Vivien winced inwardly at the thought of clip-in feather extensions, half-shirts over tank tops, and jeggings making a come back. The only things from her childhood she wished would return were Silly Bandz, Heelys, and Club Penguin. Maybe her grandparents felt the same as they looked back over their previous choices. Maybe they despised it all the same. Then again, as her grandpa proudly showed off a picture of himself in their yearbook - plaid bellbottoms and a horizontally striped shirt with an oversized collar - she realized they probably didn’t care anymore. Perhaps, in time, she would be able to look back on pictures of her pre-teen self and laugh as well.

By the time they had lunch, the rain had dwindled considerably, but the photo albums had been set aside and a stack of DVD wallets had been set out in their places. Looking over the stack of DVD folders, Vivien looked to her grandparents and asked, “When did you guys get so many movies?”

“We’ve had them for a long time, sweetheart,” George claimed. “We’re not the greatest with those things you and your siblings put on the TV, but DVDs are easy enough to understand.”

“Plus, there are a lot of movies we grew up watching that aren’t available on Netflix or anything like that,” Dawn added.

“How did you get so many?” Erica wondered as she flipped through one of the wallets.

“Amazon and tag sales,” George said with a grin.

“Seriously?” Vivien asked as she picked up a small, blue pouch of DVDs. “So you can figure out Amazon on your phone, but not a streaming app?”

George shrugged as Dawn spoke up, “This isn’t even our whole collection.”

Mick laughed, peering over Vivien’s shoulder as the younger girl unzipped the folder in her hand and flipped through some of the available films, “Where on earth do you hide them all?”

“In boxes in the hallway closet,” Dawn said, gesturing to the far side of the room. “If you want, you can go look through them.”

As Mick stood, Vivien quickly followed, handing the packet of DVDs to Royce before pushing herself from the floor and tucking her phone into her back pocket. Once they were away from the group, Vivien tugged Mick into the bathroom and quietly closed the door. Looking around, Mick’s confused chestnut eyes fell on Vivien as she asked, “Why are we-?”

“Shh!” Vivien hissed in a whisper. Lowering her voice, Vivien spoke, “Look, I didn’t want to say anything in front of everyone, but I found something.”

Intrigued, Mick muttered, “What?”

Reaching into her back pocket, Vivien pulled out her phone and set it on the edge of the sink before holding out a DVD for Mick to take. Gingerly slipping the silver disc out of Vivien’s hand, Mick slowly turned it over to see an image of Lela and Tanner standing on opposite sides of a surfboard, their vibrant smiles grinning up at her from just under the title of their movie. Not wanting to believe they were being called out by the sixty-something-year-old couple, Mick looked for a sign that the picture was a sticker slapped onto the disc. To her dismay, however, it was not. Adding insult to injury, the white ring on the back of the DVD showed the movie’s title in thick black letters, further proving that the movie was exactly as it appeared.

Mick examined the DVD for a while before slowly lifting her gaze to the young brunette before her, “Do you think they know?”

“I don’t know,” Vivien breathed. “As far as I know, they haven’t said anything to any of us and I don’t think they watch a lot of movies, but if this is in their collection, they must have seen it at some point, right?”

“Probably,” Mick sighed. 

Running her hands over her hair out of habit, Vivien asked, “What are we going to do?”

With a shake of her head, Mick breathed, “I don’t know. Maybe I can talk with your grandma later or something - see how much she knows - and, in the meantime, we can hide the DVD in one of the cases in the closet.”

Vivien slowly nodded, “That’s actually a pretty good idea.”

Twisting the doorknob, Mick smirked, “Don’t sound so surprised.”

After finding the box of DVDs in the hall closet and shoving the movie into an empty case in the middle, the girls returned to the living room and settled down until a film was agreed upon for the afternoon. Once everyone had gotten snacks from the kitchen, Mick placed a bag of popcorn in the microwave and perched herself on one of the island stools as Dawn searched the pantry for some nacho cheese popcorn seasoning. The dark-haired woman hummed to herself as she moved things around, the song both soothing and making Mick more anxious as she listened to the woman’s gentle voice.

Preparing herself for the inevitable conversation, Mick twisted her seat around toward the woman and chuckled, “You know, my parents would go nuts if they saw your movie collection.”

“Oh really?” the older woman asked, turning with a grin as she pulled a tray of popcorn seasonings from the pantry shelf. “Well, if they ever feel like stopping by and borrowing some of them, we always leave a key in the socket cover by the garage door.”

“I’m sure they’d love that,” Mick said graciously. Swallowing thickly as the woman set the tray of seasonings on the counter, Mick said, “There were a lot of old movies in there.”

“Yeah, well,” Dawn gestured toward herself and chuckled, “we’re old.”

“You’re really not,” Mick offered, “but some of those movies are from before your time. I mean, come on, movies from the thirties and forties? Those have to be pretty rare.”

With a shrug, Dawn popped open the nacho cheese seasoning and held it over the already popped bag she had made as she said, “The more famous ones like Gone With The Wind were transferred to DVD in recent years, but everything from the fifties onward is pretty standard.”

Mick nodded, “I did see a good set of movies from the sixties.”

Dawn let out a short laugh, “Those were mostly mine.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes,” Dawn nodded. “I had a thing for collecting as many Frankie and Annette movies as possible. I’m actually still looking for a couple of them.”

“Which ones?” Mick asked as she pulled her bag of popcorn from the microwave and sat back down at the counter. “My parents might have an extra copy.”

“I believe I still need Fireball 500 and Thunder Alley,” Dawn said as she shrugged, “but I’m sure I’ll find them in my own time.”

“Yeah, probably,” Mick said with a hopeful smile and a nod. Taking in a breath, she brought her bottom lip between her teeth before slowly releasing it and saying, “I was surprised you had a Blu-Ray copy of Wet Side Story. My parents love that movie.”

Dawn chuckled, lifting her head and meeting Mick’s eyes as she said, “I was wondering how long it would take.”

Taken aback by the woman’s words, Mick shook her head faintly and asked, “I’m sorry, what?”

“I was wondering how long it would be before one of you said something,” Dawn restated. When Mick chose to remain silent, her shock keeping her frozen in place, the older woman continued, “Before summer, I set aside that little folder of movies for George and I to watch in our free time at camp, but when you showed me some pictures of things in Florida, I recognized Lela as the girl on the DVD we were supposed to watch that night.”

Finally allowing herself to speak, Mick asked, “And you’re fine with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Dawn asked in return. “It’s your life, sweetie; as long as you’re happy, I don’t have an issue with it.”

“Aren’t you curious as to how it all works?”

“A little, but I can’t say that I would understand it if you chose to tell me,” Dawn chuckled. “Just know that George and I support everything and will keep it a secret if you need us to.”

“Not a lot of people know,” Mick stated.

“Your parents must.” Slowly, Mick nodded. “Does Vivien?” 

“She didn’t for a while, but she figured it out a year ago,” Mick said with a nod. “I think it was around the time she and Royce started dating.”

“I figured as much,” Dawn mused. “Does anybody in the house not know?”

“Riven, Erica, Jade, Hayley, and Charlie,” Mick listed. “As far as I know, they’re clueless.”

With a nod, Dawn took in a breath and asked, “Are you planning on telling them?”

“When we feel the time is right,” Mick nodded. “Vivien wants to tell Riven first as a test run, but since he hasn’t come to us with questions, I doubt she has.”

Dawn hummed, “She’s always been fairly anxious about telling people personal things, but she’s a smart young lady. I’m sure she’ll tell him when she’s ready.”

With a nod, Mick pulled open the bag of popcorn before her and wondered aloud, “Should we tell the others that you guys know?”

“Not yet,” Dawn said with a shake of her head. “I think George and I would both feel better about it if they came to us on their own. For now, we can let them think we’re in the dark still.”

Almost hesitantly, Mick nodded and muttered, “Okay.”

Patting the girl on the arm, Dawn picked up her bowl of seasoned popcorn and gestured to the hallway before allowing Mick to lead the way back to the living room. Before they could reach the room where everyone else had gathered, she softly asked, “So, when Vivien went to visit you on her school break…?”

“She was actually staying with us in the movie world,” Mick clarified. At the woman’s confused expression, Mick chuckled, “It’s a long story.”

“In that case, I’ll be glad to hear it someday,” Dawn said with a grin before following Mick into the living room. 

“Happy birthday!” two voices screeched in Vivien’s ears as the sun barely glowed through the curtains of her bedroom window.

If the elbow to her ribcage or the knee in her thigh wasn’t enough to jolt her awake, the voices of her siblings definitely did the trick. Sluggishly shifting to wrap her arms around her siblings, Vivien yawned, “My birthday was on Tuesday, first of all, and, second, what are you guys doing here?”

Oliver was quick to answer, “We rode over on our bikes.”

“Yeah,” Abby agreed. “You didn’t think we’d let you get away with avoiding our tradition, did you?”

“I was hoping I could go a year without a bruised body for my birthday,” Vivien breathed, “but I have to admit, I did sort of miss it.”

Abby rolled her eyes as Oliver sat up, “We wanted to stay at camp after the show, but Dad said we had to go back home.”

“Yeah,” Abby huffed. “Otherwise Mom would get all pissy.”

“Abs,” Vivien scolded lightly.

“What?” Abby asked. “It’s the truth and you know it.”

“It’s still not nice to talk about Mom like that,” Vivien sighed.

Oliver scoffed, “Whoever said Abby was nice has clearly never met her.”

“Look, dickhead-”

Before her siblings could go too far, Vivien interrupted, “So, where is Dad?”

With a sigh, Oliver said, “He and Mom were arguing when we left, but he said he would be here.”

“They’ve been arguing a lot since she missed your performance,” Abby claimed. “Dad said that, if they weren’t already divorced, they’d be getting one now.”

“What about Mom?” Vivien asked, brushing off the statement with ease. “Is she coming?”

Abby shrugged, “We’re not sure. I heard her say something about work.”

Oliver nodded, “And I overheard Dad telling her that work isn’t more important than the three of us.”

“But they just kept arguing, so we’re not sure what’s going to happen,” Abby finished.

“That’s fine,” Vivien said with a grin. “One parent being here is more than enough for me. Besides, Nonna and Granpa are here with Aunt Hayley and Charlie.”

“And you’ve got us too,” Oliver added as he stood from the mattress.

“Yeah,” Vivien nodded. “So it doesn’t really matter whether Mom shows up or not.”

“Exactly,” Abby agreed, pushing herself off of Vivien’s borrowed bed. “Now, enough of the adult shit. Is this going to be a pool party or what? If it’s a pool party, can I borrow one of your swimsuits?”

Shoving away the blankets that had tangled around her legs, Vivien laughed, “Since when do you ask before borrowing my things?”

“Since you glitter-bombed me last time I took your sweater,” Abby said with a roll of her eyes.

“I remember that!” Oliver laughed as Abby pushed him toward the door. “You looked like some six-year-old’s deranged Barbie doll and it was hilarious.”

“Hysterical,” Abby deadpanned, “now leave so Viv can change.”

“You too,” Vivien said, gesturing for both of her siblings to leave the room she had claimed as her own while she searched through her duffel bag for something to wear. “Go bug Nonna and Grandpa George for breakfast or something.”

“But what about the swimsuit?” Abby whined as Oliver tugged her out of the room.

Throwing a floral one-piece at her sister, Vivien laughed, “Just go!”

As Oliver swung the door shut, Vivien laughed as she heard Abby’s muffled voice call out, “Thanks, sissy!” Rolling her eyes, Vivien pulled some clothes from her bag and quickly got dressed before zipping her duffel bag shut and hefting the strap over her shoulder. Leaving her room, Vivien made her way through the hall to where Bentley and Royce were staying with Riven. Finding their bedroom door open and the three of them sitting on the floor with Riven’s Dungeon Master folder sprawled out between them, Vivien leaned against the doorframe with a smirk.

“Well, well, well,” she mused, gaining their attention. “It appears the nerds are busy nerding; I suppose I’ll have to come back later.”

With a roll of his eyes, Riven scoffed, “You’re just upset we started without you.”

“As if,” Vivien chuckled as she made her way into the room and took her place beside Royce. “The one you have to worry about is Erica.”

“You won’t tell her,” Riven said confidently.

“I would if I didn’t think that meant starting World War Three in my grandparents’ house,” she sighed.

“Didn’t think so.”

“Dick.”

“The hugest.”

“Not a compliment.”

“Don’t care,” Riven said with a smirk. Bringing his attention back to the board before him, he said, “Now, we were actually just talking about your character and how you played in Tales of the Yawning Portal.”

“Oh really?” Vivien asked.

Bentley quickly nodded, “He said you leveled up really fast.”

“I wouldn’t say it was fast,” Vivien began, “but I quickly learned how to play my cards right, so by the time we got to the Tomb of Horror dungeon, I was already level fifteen.”

“That’s impressive,” Royce mused. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from her,” Riven said. “She’s great at molding herself to fit in any scenario she comes across.”

“Like that Star Wars campaign we did over Thanksgiving break last year,” Vivien offered.

Bentley’s eyes practically sparkled as he turned to Vivien with a beaming smile. “You can play Star Wars campaigns?”

Riven chuckled, “With a fun Dungeon Master, you can do anything.”

“What was it like?” Royce asked.

“It was great,” Riven said.

“I think it was called Dust and Echoes,” Vivien said. Looking to her skating partner, she asked, “Do you still have the storyline sheet?”

“When don’t I?” Riven asked with a laugh before holding up a finger for the others to wait. Hazel eyes scanned over the folder on the floor before he reached out and pulled a stack of papers from under a flap of protective plastic. Flipping through the pages, Riven lightly shook his head, muttering things to himself until he eventually pulled a page out and set the others on the floor. 

“I should’ve known,” Vivien chuckled with a roll of her eyes.

Clearing his throat, Riven read, “‘While escaping an imperial Star Destroyer, a Rebellion cruiser is forced to abandon ship, scattering the survivors on a nearby mysterious artificial moon. Here they must find their fellow rebels while staying out of sight of the Imperial search parties. When they have a sizable force, they begin surgical guerrilla strikes to accumulate enough Imperial star ships to get everyone away from the Empire, who have begun exploring the strange moon. The nature of the artificial world begins to unfold, as it turns out that it is a creation of an ancient civilization, perhaps the Celestials, meant to expand into a dyson sphere in order to harvest energy from stars. As the Empire rushes to take control of the planet’s bridge with superior firepower and numbers, the Rebels discover that the creators never got the moon’s systems to work properly and that it inadvertently destabilizes stars, causing solar-system wipe catastrophes. So what now? Desperately outnumbered and outgunned, the Rebels are forced to extreme tactics to destroy the Dyson sphere before it is too late.’”

If Bentley wasn’t already enamored with the idea, he certainly was now. The glow of adoration in his eyes was obvious as he spoke up, “I wish we could have played it with you guys.”

“Who says you can’t?” Riven asked. 

“But you guys already played it once,” Royce wondered.

“We’ve replayed campaigns before,” Vivien said. “Sometimes, Riven mixes up the story a little to make things interesting.”

Riven nodded, “Besides, I was already planning on working on some new campaigns.”

“Really?” Vivien asked. 

Again, the auburn-haired boy nodded, “I didn’t want to say anything, but I put together a handful of ideas over the summer.” Picking up some of the pages he had placed on the floor, he flipped through them and said, “Star Wars, Hary Potter, a couple of Halloween ideas I want to mess around with, and a few set in different points of history.”

“Like Hamilton?” Royce asked.

“That’s one of them,” Riven agreed. “I also have one during the Salem Witch Trials, one in the eighties, and a few during the late fifties or sixties.”

Realization flooded through Bentley as he fleetingly met Riven’s hazel eyes. Over their time at camp, he had spent more than a few days talking with Riven about how things were in their world. Had Riven been using that information to create new campaigns? Before Bentley could think about confronting the older boy, Vivien tentatively asked, “Why the fifties and sixties?”

“The space race, mostly,” Riven shrugged. “But I’m not sure on it yet. I know you also wanted to do one based on those Professor Layton games you like so much, so maybe we could use that period for that instead since nobody knows when they actually take place.”

“I thought the games happen in the thirties and forties,” Vivien claimed.

Riven shrugged and began to explain how he hadn’t been able to find any evidence of a concise timeframe for the games in his searches and how he was compromising for the middle of the timeline he’d found as Bentley let out the breath he’d been holding. Glancing toward Royce, he found his brother looking equally relieved for an entirely different reason, but as Riven and Vivien began bickering about continuity and timelines, their attention was drawn to the doorway as Vivien’s dad leaned against the wood, pressing a finger to his lips to keep his presence a secret.

“I’m telling you,” Vivien argued, “the way they dress is typical of the thirties and forties!”

“But one of the puzzles mentions texting which means it had to be at least in the nineties, if not the early aughts,” Riven fought back. “And those double-decker buses are from at least the late fifties.”

“Professor Layton’s car is old, though, you can’t argue that.”

“I can’t, but they made those until the early nineties,” Riven claimed, brushing the brunette off with a wave. “And who’s to say he’s not a car guy who collects clunky classics?”

“But everything else points to it being older than that!” Vivien griped. “The steampunk style was popular way back in the eighteen-hundreds, for crying out loud.”

Before Riven could fire back at the teenager before him, Damien made his presence known as he suggested, “Maybe Layton isn't set in the past, but in an awesome future where the retro of the fifties meets the steampunk of the eighteen-hundreds.”

Whirling around, Vivien’s face split into a smile as she pushed herself from the floor, “Dad!”

Wholly unprepared for the freight train that was his oldest child, Damien found himself stumbling backward as Vivien slammed into him at full force. Bringing his arms around his daughter, Damien lifted her from the ground and took a few steps into the room before setting her down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Are you done harassing Riven?”

“Never,” Vivien and Riven replied in unsurprising unison.

“I didn’t think you’d get here until later,” Vivien said.

Damien chuckled, “I wasn’t about to miss out on Grandpa’s bull’s eye toasts.”

“Ah,” Vivien breathed as she leaned out of her dad’s arms, “so it has nothing to do with me having a party today?”

“Oh, are you?” Damien asked teasingly as he took a plastic tiara from where he'd tucked one side of it in his back pocket and placed it atop his daughter's head. “I suppose I should have brought you a gift.”

With a dramatic sigh, Vivien placed the back of her hand to her forehead and said, “Whatever will I do without a present from my dearest father?”

Chuckling at his oldest daughter’s theatrics, Damien asked, “So, what are you four up to?”

“We were just talking about some new campaigns,” Riven said as he began folding his things together again.

Damien nodded before finding Royce and Bentley and asking, “Are you two planning on joining their group?”

“Yes, sir,” Royce said.

“It looks like fun,” Bentley agreed with a nod.

“It is,” Damien nodded as he moved closer to the group. Finding Royce’s gaze with a grin, he said, “And, for the millionth time, you kids don’t have to call me ‘sir’. I’m not your boss or some military official; I’m your friend’s dad. You can call me Damien.”

Swallowing thickly, Royce minutely shook his head as he muttered, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I could do that, even if I wanted to.”

“You can call him ‘dad’,” Vivien shrugged. “A bunch of my friends do.”

“Do they not have parents?” Bentley asked as his head tipped to the side.

Elbowing his brother, Royce told him off before looking up to both his girlfriend and her father and saying, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Damien chuckled. “But, really, you can call me just about anything and I won’t mind.”

While Royce struggled to find something to say in return, Bentley sent the man his usual, brilliant smile and said, “We’ll work on it.”

“That’s all I ask,” Damien said. Clapping his hands, he smiled and said, “Now, let’s get downstairs before all of the French toast is gone.”

“Nonna made her French toast?” Vivien asked, excitement glimmering in her eyes.

“Mhm,” Damien hummed with a nod. As Vivien took off for the hallway, the older man turned to the boys on the floor and asked, “Are you three coming?”

Riven nodded, “We’ll be there in a minute, Dad. We just need to clean the room before we go.”

As Damien left the room, telling the boys he would see them downstairs, Royce turned to Riven with a curiously raised eyebrow. Once Damien was out of earshot, he quietly asked, “How is that so easy for you?”

Riven shrugged as he put his folder on his bed, “Don’t get me wrong, I love my dad, but I’ve spent so much time at Vivien’s house that her family is practically mine as well.”

“I don’t think I could do that,” Royce sighed as he pushed himself off of the floor.

“I could,” Bentley said as he sat on the end of the bed he had shared with Royce. At Royce’s confused look, he said, “What? Our dad sucked and Viv’s dad is really nice to us. He deserves the title more.”

Royce’s confusion dissolved as he thought about his brother’s words. While Bentley was, by technicality, right, he couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of calling someone else’s father ‘dad’ after all their dad had put them through. His train of thought quickly halted as Riven chuckled and stood, patting Royce on the shoulder with a gentle smile as he reassured the teen, “You’ll get used to it, I promise.”

Though Royce nodded in response, he couldn’t help but think to himself, ‘Yeah, right.’

As the day wore on, Vivien found herself tugged in every direction by the people in the house. At first, she was bombarded by people in the dining room, each of them either wishing her a happy birthday or wrapping her in a bone-crushing hug. Her siblings, eager to recant the tales of their summer and hear about their older sister’s time at camp, pulled her to the backyard to talk after breakfast, but their conversation was cut short as their grandparents pulled everyone into the lounge to discuss their plans for the day. Once they were done and everyone went their separate ways, George and Dawn pulled their oldest grandbaby aside to give her a gift away from everyone else - a hand-beaded bracelet that had been passed down to the oldest child of every generation of her family. Upon asking why Hayley hadn’t given it to her, the older couple simply stated that the woman had felt it best to have them give it to her instead as it would mean more from them.

After lunch, Vivien was ordered to stay indoors while her family set up the backyard for the party, but it didn’t take long for Erica to get sick of babysitting duty. “This is so fucking boring,” she moaned.

“I thought you liked this movie,” Jade said with a grin as she gestured to the screen. On the screen, Optimus Prime, leader of the alien group called the Autobots was locked in battle with his longtime nemesis, Megatron. While the others were fairly engrosed in the film and enjoying the surround sound speakers that amplified the fight, Erica had found herself sitting almost upside down in one of the arm chairs, unable to take an interest in the film.

“Normally, yeah,” the blue-haired girl spoke, “but I’ve seen Transformers so much that I know it word for word.”

“Well, if you’re so bored, what do you actually want to do?” Riven asked.

Erica heaved a sigh as she pushed herself to sit like a normal person. Glancing around the room, her gaze settled on Vivien and a scheming grin spread across her face. Meeting the girl’s glimmering eyes, Vivien hesitantly asked, “Do I wanna know what you’re thinking about?”

Instead of answering directly, Erica asked, “Did you wash your hair last night?”

Confused, Vivien slowly nodded, “Yeah, why?”

Standing from her chair, Erica rounded the arm of the couch and pulled Vivien to her feet, “Get ready to look like Grimace!”

As Vivien was dragged out of the room, the others scrambled to their feet, following the pair out of the room as Jade quickly grabbed the remote and paused the movie. Following the others upstairs to the bathroom across from the staircase, the green-haired girl leaned into the room to see what was going on. Vivien had been perched on a chair in front of the vanity mirror and, despite looking mildly worried, she sent her friends a small smile of reassurance as Erica reached into the towel closet and pulled out a plastic Walmart bag wrapped tightly around a box.

Holding the bag out tot he younger girl, Erica said, “Happy birthday, bitch.”

Tentatively tugging the bag away from the box, Vivien laughed to herself as she pulled out a box of Midnight Tanzanite hair dye. “What is this?” she asked.

“Damn,” Erica chortled, “you really do need those glasses, huh?”

“Asshole,” Vivien laughed as she shoved the blue-haired girl.

“Yours truly,” Erica agreed. “Look, you said you wanted to dye your hair after JJ and I did, but that your mom would be pissed. So, after she didn’t show up at the end-of-summer thing, I bought this. Think of it as a bit of payback.”

“Or some really petty revenge,” Riven mused.

Taking in a deep breath, Vivien asked, “What if she shows up today? She’ll still be pissed.”

“So what?” Ignoring Royce’s pointed look telling him to stay out of the situation, Bentley continued, “It’s your body and, if you don’t like it, it’ll come out eventually.”

“Or we can dye it back to brown,” Jade tacked on.

Erica nodded, grateful they chose to back her up, “And, for the record, we don’t have to do your whole head. We can do just the ends or maybe some peekaboo colors under your hair. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing.”

Vivien looked at herself in the mirror, trying to imagine herself with shades of purple tinting the ends of her hair. It would be quite the change from her normal look, but wasn’t that what she wanted? Glancing in the mirror at the reflections of her friends, Vivien scanned over their smiles until she found her boyfriend smiling encouragingly at her. Taking in a deep breath, Vivien glanced at herself once more before looking up at Erica, “Let’s do it.”

Hauling a wooden crate through the storm hatch to the backyard, Miles asked, “Are you guys sure we need all of this?”

“It’s the end of summer,” Hayley replied as she took the box from him. “We always make sure to go out with a bang.”

“I get that,” he said, “but don’t you think this is a little overkill? This isn’t the Fourth of July.”

Damien chuckled, patting Miles on the back as he joined the younger male, “Believe me, son, this is tame compared to their usual firework shows.”

“Tame?” Carrie wondered as she set a box of Roman candles on the edge of a folding table. “There are enough fireworks here to blast someone into outer space.”

“As I said,” Damien began with a smirk, “this is tame.”

“Normally, a party like this goes until midnight,” Charlie stated as she neared the group. “There are sparklers for the kids, Roman candles for the adults, firecrackers and aerials for the group, and plenty of drinks to go around.”

With a raised brow, Dawn asked, “You guys don’t do firework shows in Florida?”

On instinct, Miles glanced over to where Mick and Butchy were pulling lawn chairs onto the grass, used to having one of them there to answer questions like that so he didn’t have to. Trying not to stumble over his words, he cleared his throat and said, “Not often, no.”

“How come?” George asked.

Miles swallowed thickly, attempting a smile as he tried to think of something to say. Thankfully, he didn’t have to think for long as Carrie spoke up, “We try not to do a lot of them because Royce has really sensitive hearing and the noise bothers him a lot. It’s easier to just do sparklers and small things.”

After a few moments of muttered understanding, Dawn patted Miles on the arm and said, “I have some ear plugs he can use if he’d like to join us for the whole show.”

“I’m sure he’d love that,” Miles said with a grateful smile. 

“I’ll grab them after we do presents,” the older woman said. Checking her watch, Dawn turned to her husband and asked, “Where are the kids?”

Shrugging, George took a bite of the brownie he had swiped from the snack table and said, “No clue. They weren’t watching the movie when I went to get the chips.”

“And you didn’t go looking for them?” Dawn asked.

“Was I supposed to?” George questioned.

As her mother heaved a sigh and shook her head, Hayley stepped up with a grin and placed a hand on her mom’s shoulder as she said, “I’ll go find them. They’re probably playing their dungeon game upstairs.”

“Thank you,” Dawn said.

However, before Hayley could make her way inside to find her niece and the girl’s friends, Erica pushed the sliding glass door open and stepped outside. Loudly clearing her throat, Erica raised her voice and declared, “People of the backyard, I proudly introduce the new - and only slightly cooler - Vivien O’Brian.”

As the blue-haired girl stepped aside, Vivien stepped into the sunlight, apprehension obvious as she smiled hesitantly at her family. Though the dyed strands of her bangs made the change more evident in the light, the underside of her hair was darker and had taken on a deep amethyst tone. Regardless of the slight difference in color, the girl’s smile was all her family needed to see to approve of her choice. 

“Well?” Vivien asked as she glanced between the people before her. “What do you guys think?”

Before anyone else could think of speaking up, Charlie let out a squeal and made her way forward, running her fingers through the ends of Vivien’s hair with a beaming smile. “I knew it would suit you!”

“You knew?” Vivien asked.

“Of course, I did, silly,” Charlie said. “Erica asked me what color I thought would make you happy.”

“I can’t believe you never told me,” Hayley spoke as she neared the pair. Turning her attention solely on Vivien, however, she smiled, “You look amazing, baby girl.”

Before Vivien could say more, her dad joined them and said, “They’re right. It suits you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Vivien said with a smile. “Mom might not think so, but-”

Damien shrugged, “To hell what she thinks. You’re happy with it and that’s all that matters.”

As the twins stepped up, Abby said, “Yeah, who cares what Mom has to say about it?”

Nodding, Oliver agreed, “You look great, Vivi.”

“Thanks, guys,” Vivien chuckled.

“It’s kind of like one of those crystals in your windowsill,” Oliver mused.

Smirking at her brother, Abby offered, “Let me guess - amethyst?”

Quickly, Oliver shook his head, “The way there are different shades of purple all mixed together makes me think of charoite.”

“Since when have you listened to me about my crystal collection?” Vivien questioned.

“I always listen,” Oliver shrugged. “Just because it doesn’t interest me doesn’t mean I can’t listen to what you like.”

“Awe,” Vivien cooed, wrapping her arms around her brother who looked just thrilled by the interaction. “That’s so sweet, Olly!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Oliver mumbled, patting his oldest sibling on the back before she could pull away.

As everyone separated and returned to their previous tasks, Vivien made her way to where her grandparents stayed, watching them as they set out a handful of fireworks they’d use once the sun went down. Stepping between the older couple, she asked, “How are you guys?”

“Proud,” Dawn said, turning to smile at her granddaughter.

“Very,” George added as he brought an arm around Vivien’s shoulders. 

Taking Vivien’s hand, Dawn said, “I remember when you used to dye your hair with Kool-Aid.

“That was ages ago,” Vivien snickered.

“Just goes to show how much you’ve grown, little one,” George said.

Squeezing Vivien’s hand, Dawn said, “Why don’t you go over by the fire pit and we’ll do presents.”

Vivien nodded, yet paused to ask, “What about my Mom?”

“We’ll cross that road when we get to it,” George shrugged. “For now, just enjoy your time with family.”

“And friends,” Vivien added.

“I think, by now, they’re just as much your family as we are, eaglet,” Dawn chuckled. Patting her granddaughter’s arm, she said, “Now, go have fun.”

Once Vivien was far enough away, George nudged his wife and said, “I told you that purple was her color.”

“I can’t argue that,” Dawn agreed, “but her aura is definitely green.”

It wasn’t until they had already had Vivien blow out her candles and cut herself the first slice of cake that the now seventeen-year-old’s mother showed up, grumbling complaints about her heels sinking in the grass as she rounded the side of the house. Though the woman looked ready to complain about Vivien dyeing her “beautiful, hickory hair,” she bit her tongue and gave her eldest child a quick embrace before sitting at the picnic table where the food was kept. After making some small talk, Chelsea wished her daughter a quick “Happy birthday” before handing over Vivien’s gift - a one hundred dollar gift card to Abercrombie.

“Abercrombie,” Vivien mused with an obviously strained smile. It would have been one thing if Vivien actually liked the store in question, however, Vivien had only bought something from store once in her life and it was a dog sweater for Loki. Abercrombie wasn’t even on her radar when she went shopping, but Vivien knew it was one of Abby’s favorites.

Chelsea hummed, already back to tapping on her phone - something for work, presumably. Glancing up at her daughter, she said, “School is starting soon and you’re graduating this year, so you need to look more professional.”

“Professional?” Vivien echoed.

Again, Chelsea hummed in confirmation, “Enough of the cartoon shirts and distressed jeans. You’re almost an adult; you should at least look like it for once in your life.”

Forcing herself to keep her opinions to herself, Vivien thanked her mother and tucked the gift card into her pocket before asking her friends for help bringing the rest of her presents inside. Once they had set everything in the hallway by the front door, Vivien slipped the gift card into Abby’s purse and encouraged everyone to go change into something for the pool. After changing into her swimsuit for the party, Vivien met her friends in the hallway and followed them back out the backyard where they began filling their plates with food and desserts. 

Cake frosting and ice cream puddled together on their plates as they talked, their potato chips gradually growing soggy as the melting ice cream inched closer. As the sun fell further over the horizon the adults began to prepare the fireworks as everyone else gathered in the pool to watch from a safe distance. As a majority of the group gathered by the edge of the pool bracing their arms over the side or relaxing on pool floats to watch the fireworks explote over the hill beyond them, Vivien took Royce by the arm and brought him to the middle of the pool.

Taking out one of the ear plugs Dawn had given him, Royce asked, “What’s up?”

Vivien smiled, “I find it’s quieter to float in the water while the fireworks go off.”

Nodding graciously, Royce took Vivien’s hand in his and said, “Thank you, but are you sure you don’t want to be with everyone else?”

“If I wanted to be over with them, I wouldn’t have offered.”

Before Royce could say anything more, Vivien released his hand, stepped back, and sank into the water, pushing herself to the surface before patting the water beside her as an invitation. With a breath of a laugh, Royce tucked the ear plug into his ear once more and followed suit, allowing the water to flow around him as Vivien took his hand once more. While Vivien was right that the water muffled any remaining sound, he still heard the faintest of blasts as the first firework erupted in the slowly darkening sky above them. 

As brilliant colors illuminated the sky alongside the setting sun, Royce took in a deep breath and sighed. The summer was almost over and, with it, the end of their stay in New Hampshire. All too soon, he would be on a flight back home, waiting for the ache in his chest to go away enough for him to focus on his everyday tasks. Granted, they would be back in just a few months and he would be able to video chat with Vivien and her friends during their visits to Mick’s family’s home, but it wasn’t quite the same as actually being there. Turning toward Vivien, Royce smiled at her wonderstruck expression, the glimmering displays above them glowing against her skin. Shades of red, blue, purple, and gold shone in the reflections of the water, making a sort of halo around those in the pool.

As Vivien turned to say something to him, she froze, raising an eyebrow curiously at her boyfriend. She looked as though she wanted to say something, but instead, she lowered her voice and asked, “I know you’re asthmatic, but how long can you hold your breath under water?”

Taken aback by the question, Royce thought before asking, “I’m not sure, really, but I’ve gotten better with it after taking surfing lessons with Mick. Why?”

Lifting her free hand into view, Vivien said, “I think the bracelet Nonna and Grandpa George gave me is at the bottom of the pool.”

Royce moved, looking around at the dark water as though the bracelet would appear if he squinted long enough. “I’ll look for it,” he told Vivien as she moved to look for the bracelet.

“It’s beaded, so it should be easy to find at the bottom,” she told him.

Nodding, Royce sucked in a deep breath before ducking under the water, using his hands to feel around the bottom of the pool as Vivien joined him. They hadn’t gone far since getting in the water, but as Royce looked around, he couldn’t seem to find the bracelet anywhere. Taking in another breath of air as he neared the edge of the pool, Royce turned around toward where Vivien had been searching and ducked back under the surface of the chlorinated water. Finding himself face to face with a grinning Vivien, Royce raised an eyebrow at her, wondering if she’d found the bracelet. Instead, she merely shook her head before placing her arms around his neck and pulling him close.

It seemed she wanted to catch him off guard, as she always did with quick kisses to his cheek, but this time, he leaned in at the same time and they finally met halfway in a kiss. For a fleeting moment, Royce stared at Vivien in shock, but when she didn’t pull away, he allowed his eyes to slide closed and his hands to come up to her face. As Royce had anticipated and grown anxious over during the duration of their relationship, the kiss was awkward, but he was melting nonetheless because it was Vivien he was kissing. If oxygen deprivation hadn’t been a thing, he was sure they would have stayed there in that moment for the rest of the night. However, with the knowledge that his lungs would begin to cry for some semblance of fresh air if he didn’t move soon, he pulled away from Vivien, preparing to go up to the surface. Even so, he still kept his hands on her face, simply because he didn't want to let go yet.

Slowly peeling his eyes open, Royce found Vivien smirking back at him, mischief glinting in her emerald eyes. As fireworks exploded overhead, Vivien pointed upward, silently asking him if he needed air. Although he nodded, Royce pulled Vivien close once more and pressed another kiss to her lips. It wasn’t long or intense, but it was certainly enough to throw Vivien off as she let out a flurry of bubbles. Smirking at the wide-eyed Vivien as he pulled back, Royce took her hand from the back of his neck and pushed to the surface, taking her with him. 

As both of them took in some air, Vivien looked to Royce and breathed, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

With a breath of a laugh, Royce replied, “Neither was I!”

After a moment of laughter, Vivien tentatively admitted, “I liked that. Like, a lot.”

“Me too,” Royce admitted with a smile. “A lot.”

Vivien beamed, utterly proud of herself despite the reddening embarrassment flushing her cheeks. As Royce let out a relaxed sigh and looked back up at the rainbow of lights flashing in the sky, Vivien dug into her pocket and held her bracelet out for him to see. “Look,” she told him.

“Oh, good!” Royce softly exclaimed, holding the end of the bracelet as he smiled in Vivien’s direction. “Where’d you find it?”

“In my pocket,” she explained. Meeting Royce’s gaze, she confessed, “I just wanted an excuse to kiss you.”

“You didn’t need any excuse,” Royce claimed. “You could have just asked and I would have said yes.”

“I know,” Vivien nodded. “But I’ve always sort of wanted my first kiss to be an underwater kiss like Percabeth did in The Last Olympian.”

“Again, you could have told me and I would have gladly helped you.” Royce chuckled, his face gradually reddening as he admitted, “Honestly, you could have just shoved me under and I would have been fine with it.”

Vivien let out a laugh, “Yeah, I guess I could say the same.”

Without a moment of hesitation, Royce said, “Maybe next time.”

Despite feeling her face burn brighter than the fireworks illuminating the sky above them, Vivien found Royce’s caramel eyes and smiled as she nodded, “Yeah, maybe next time.”

[thesymphonytrue]

For the WIP asks: what's the OCs one about?

Okay, so I talked about that a bit in this ask here

So for this ask, here is a snippet (and draft) of my two MCs meeting for the first time:

“Leonardo?” The voice was bright, like sunlight dancing on the ocean water. Leo looked up from the ship he was repairing to see a woman close in age to his twenty-eight years. She was backlit by the morning sun, her hair appearing to glow golden. Her fair skin looked so out of place in The Sea Village that Leo wondered if a sea nymph had found its way to him, that some creature more magical than him had finally taken notice of his art. Leo wiped his hands with a cloth and stood to greet her. “I am he,” Leo replied, brushing a dark curl from his forehead to see her better. No, she was not a sea nymph, she was undoubtedly human. Her eyes flickered with life and she was….dressed like she was from the mountains. Her formal long skirt and fitted long-sleeved blouse looked very out of place in comparison to Leo’s loose linen shirt and slacks that billowed in the sea breeze. The woman grinned. “I am he,” she said, mimicking him with a comical deep voice, “What kind of greeting is that?” Her smile grew wider and Leo felt color rush to his cheeks. He shifted uncomfortable, toes digging into the warm sand. The waves echoed behind them, offering a soothing backdrop to the encounter. “Well, I am he,” Leo said, frowning slightly, “And you are?” The woman took a step towards him and he felt a sparkling energy as she approached. She has magic. Leo thought, fingers tingling with nervous energy. “I am Anais,” she said softly, looking past him to the ocean beyond, “You can call me Ana if you’d like! I sent the bottle?” Leo’s heart flipped. The bottle. The beautiful stained glass bottle that had tumbled down the Mountain Stream. The craftsmanship of the bottle was like none he’d ever seen. Beautiful colors of emerald, sapphire, and golden all woven into a lovely swirling design. “Oh,” Leo smiled softly, “Um, did you want it back?” Anais let out another laugh and Leo found her laugh starting to become addictive to the pleasure receptors in his brain. “No! Did you not read the message?” she place a hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes playfully.

“Message?” Leo ran a hand through his unruly hair, realizing how…windblown he must look to her. “In the bottle? There’s a message.” “I couldn’t open the bottle.” “Why not?” “Well, I didn’t want to break it and there wasn’t exactly a cap…”

She eyed him curiously, “You don’t have magic, do you?” Leo sighed. Of course. The bane of his existence. A life without magic.

“No. I don’t.” 

He was finished with this conversation. “If you want the bottle back, I will send it back up the stream—” he turned to walk away when Anais grabbed his forearm.

Her hands were cold as ice. He turned to meet her eyes and instead of dancing light, there was longing shining within them. “I can open it for you…” she said softly, then stuttered, “I—I wrote a note and sent it down the stream…I just wanted someone to talk to.” 

Leo arched an eyebrow. “You’re from the mountains, right?”

She nodded and gestured to her clothing, “Yes and I’m roasting right now! The sunlight is so…” she searched for the word, her light brown brows coming together, “bright down here.” Leo chuckled, “Yes, it is. But it is the same sun that shines up there.” 

He nodded to the mountains looming over them, their peaks snow capped. Her face darkened. “It doesn’t feel the same,” she said quietly, breaking his gaze.

They stood in silence a moment, the waves lapping gently at the shoreline, Leo’s boat creaking as it bobbed with the rising tide. “How would you like to take a sail?” he asked, heart hammering, hands sweating. 

Anais’s eyes flitted to him and then grew wide as she studied the boat behind him. “I would love that!” she exclaimed, running to the boat and running her hands along it’s edges, “I’ve never—”

“Obviously,” Leo retorted. She gave him a glare. “Well, you’re dressed to go snowshoeing,” Leo shrugged, “Let me…I have something at home you can wear.” He could feel Anais’s magic sizzling at the sound of that. “Come on,” he beckoned her to follow him, “But leave your shoes.” “What?” 

“You don’t need shoes by the Sea,” Leo said, eyes twinkling, knowing this would delight her. Anais paused and plopped herself onto the beach. With great effort, unlaced her boots, pulled off her long stockings, and set them aside. A soft smile grew on her pink lips as she slipped her toes into the sand. She closed her eyes. 

Leo had never seen anything so strange. But then again, if he was feeling snow for the first time, perhaps he’d do the same. 

Without warning, she skipped to the ocean’s edge, dipping her feet in the cool water, her skirt dampening with seawater. She almost seemed to dance in the tide, smiling at him, the sunlight already kissing her cheeks with light freckles. And Leo knew, somehow, his life would be forever changed. 

~~~

Thank you for the ask!! I wish I had more time to work on these two and their story. They and their world fascinate me!