happy holidays from attorney matt murdock (who is definitely not daredevil)

[Image Description: a half-body digital drawing of matt murdock from the daredevil comics. he is wearing a red sweater with white text that reads “i’m not daredevil”, a diadem with devil horns on his head, and black glasses. he’s standing with open arms and a cheerful expression while holding a white cane decorated to look as a candy cane with a little plant at the top end. at the right, there’s a bubble text reading “happy holidays, people!”. the background is a solid red with an ugly sweater pink pattern with crosses and devil horns hands. /end ID]

The Broken Crown- Chapter 1

Hello! So this is my first Peaky Blinders Fanfiction.  I own nothing, except for the few OCs I created. 

This story is also on Wattpad and FF.net under the same title if you want to read it there as well--- however be warned it is not as edited as this post and I changed the name of one of the characters because I thought it was a better fit... lol!

Summary: All Margaret Shelby ever wanted, was the opportunity to write her own story. Only now is she beginning to realize that her brother may have already written it for her...

  Enjoy!

OoOoOo

"He's a ghost, he's a god, He's a man, He's a guru,

You're one microscopic cog, In his catastrophic plan

Designed and directed by his red right hand"

~Red Right Hand~

1919

She had that dream again, the one where she had to decide which door she would open. Both doors were identical in every way. Yet, she just stands in the empty room lit as if by candles; frozen in place; The weight of the decision ultimately waking her out of-

No, that wouldn't do, a dark-haired girl thought as she scratched out the words she had just written down. In a small bedroom on the second floor of number Seventeen Watery Lane, sixteen-year-old Margaret Shelby sat on her bed, or rather the bed she shared with her older sister. Dressed in the long white nightgown that had once belonged to her mother and with a pen in hand, she scribbled down more words in her brown leather-bound journal resting on her lap. The journal was gifted to her by her Aunt Polly on her most previous birthday. Upon receiving it she couldn't wait to fill its pages. She liked writing, ever since she learned how to form her words into a cohesive sentence on paper. It had been an outlet, a distraction from the "shit-hole" that was Small Heath, Birmingham.

As a child, she had the fondest memories of taking the drawings her eldest brother Arthur would sketch and would accompany his rendering with an original story. She took pride in how much he would always be so impressed and relished when he called her “his little genius". As the years passed, she believed if she could write and publish a story that was good enough, then maybe one day she could provide for her family. Give them a way out of their current situation. Not that she knew much of how dire their situation really was. To their credit, her family tried their best to shield her, as well as her youngest brother Finn, from feeling the effects of living a life in the slums. She was lucky in that way, most of the girls her age had dropped out of school and had a child of their own already.

Her thoughts of prose were soon interrupted by familiar sounds causing the pit of her stomach to sink. Even after three months of him being back, she doubted she would ever get used to it. Opposite from her bed, through the thin wall with floral green wallpaper which had been peeling off for years, muffled cries could be heard. Maggie knew exactly who it was, her brother, Tommy.

She placed her journal onto the thin cotton sheets and traveled into the hallway. Before she knew it, she was standing outside the door of her older sibling. Taking a deep breath, she decided against knocking and slowly opened the door.

"Tommy?" she whispered into his candlelit room. She could see he was awake. Lying flat on his back in bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Go back to bed, Mags," the second oldest Shelby ordered, but the girl hesitated.

"I thought I heard yelling," she sounded apologetic, before taking a whiff of the air. "Do you smell that?"

"I said back to your bloody bed," his harsh tone surprised her.

This time she did listen, gently she closed her brother's door and made her way back to the empty bedroom she once was in.

OoOoOo

The next day, Margaret exited the small school she attended that was located right on the edge of Small Heath with her best friend Cara Ryan by her side. The girls had played together for as long as their memories had served them. Cara was a stylish and talkative girl who stood at a height of five feet and six inches. Dazzling green eyes sparkled and her straight honey blonde hair fell upon her shoulders. Her family did better than most, the Ryan's own a dress shop that is very popular amongst the younger women, Ada, in fact, is a frequent customer of the establishment. Though the word 'customer' was a loose term, the Ryan's like most shop owners in the area were obliged to give anyone with relations to the Peaky Blinders whatever they wanted. Mrs. Ryan's and the two oldest sisters operated it, and in her spare time, Cara could often be found working in the backroom, sewing buttons and beads to fabrics. The family had a deal, in a year's time Cara would come to work for the shop full time, but until then Cara could continue her education.

"Can't believe Henrietta's having a baby," Maggie said aloud, as shorter and younger students ran past them excitedly.

"I can," Cara replied smugly. "That girl would open her legs up for any sod that gave her a second glance."

"I feel bad for her." She admitted thinking of the fifteen-year-old whose life was now forever changed.

Cara shook her head, "Don't it's her own bloody fault."

After rounding the corner, they both saw Ross Murray. A thin nineteen-year-old with dark hair standing at five feet and eleven inches, resting his back against the dull red brick wall, smoking a cigarette. Cara stopped them in their tracks and waved at the young man. "All right, Ross?!"

Maggie smiled at her friend, she liked Ross, he'd always looked out for her and Cara like they were his own sisters. They had all been in school together up until the moment Ross was kicked out for beating up another boy named Jonah Smith. In all likelihood Jonah may have had it coming. He never had the ability to let go. For example, just last year Maggie would have to constantly have to turn down his advances for over a month. Due to the reputation of her family, attention from boys was a rare occurrence. Which she didn't mind, she never really felt romantic feelings for anyone. However, Jonah took advantage of her brothers absence. One day he even cornered her when she went back to the classroom to grab the jumper she left behind. Thankfully Jonah eventually stopped, and never bothered her again.

Getting kicked out of school didn't seem to bother Ross though. Once he turned eighteen, he enlisted to help with the war effort. He completed basic training within the required three months, and according to the letters he would send her and Cara, he was held in high esteem with all of his commanding officers. Just as he was about to be shipped to France, an armistice was declared. He'd managed to find a job working at the BSA factory rather quickly, but when he came back into town Maggie could tell he had changed. He now had this mentality that made him seem as though he was ready for a battle, yet had no one to fight.

"Cara, Margaret," he acknowledged, stubbing out his cigarette on the bricks he had rested his back upon "Where are you two heading, aye?"

"Just going home," Maggie told him, readjusting the bag on her shoulder.

He came closer to them, "I'll walk with you. Birmingham hasn't been the safest place now that all these blokes with fucked up brains are back."

"Look at that Mags," Cara said happily, and he allowed her to take his arm. "The only gentleman in Small Heath"

Maggie smiled knowingly at the sight. Since Cara was ten years old, she had been smitten with the dark-haired boy. Cara would frequently turn down other offers in hopes that Ross would one day ask her to be his girl. They both hoped that it would happen soon, because in Cara's words "She wasn't getting any younger".

"Don't know what you two keep going to school for," He expressed to them, as they began to walk in the direction the girls needed to travel. "What more is there to learn?"

His comment made Maggie shrug, "It's something to do."

"Yeah, most girls our age who aren't in school are either whores or mothers." She agreed.  "Or both."

They continued chatting about their school day as they walked closer into town. The canal that ran nearby as well as the different establishments were coming into view. "Mags, is that your brother?" Ross asked, pointing to a couple of boys.

Maggie turned her head to where her friend was pointing. He was right, her younger brother Finn, was running around in front of the pharmacy with Isaiah Jesus. He must have skipped school again. "Oi!" Maggie called out angrily, and Finn froze in place "What have you been up to all day, hm?"

"Please don't tell Tommy," the ten-year-old begged.

Maggie was about to tell him off, but she was caught off guard by the arrival of a person exiting Compton's, "Ada?"

"Oh, hello." The dark-haired beauty clutched the paper parcel tighter in her hands, clearly caught off guard by the sudden appearance of her younger siblings. "Heading home then?"

Maggie nodded and Ada continued, "I'll join you." The older sister then turned to her brother "Right Finn?" The boy scowled, but nodded all the same.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Maggie told her friends, still trying to process what her sister was up to.

Cara didn't seem to mind her best friends' announcement to depart. Turning to the hazel-eyed boy she asked, "Fancy accompanying me to the confectionery?"

He looked over to the Shelby family first, "Will you three be alright by yourself?"

Ada looked amused at his worry, "We'll be fine. I doubt anyone would mess with us." He accepted her answer with a nod and led Cara to the candy shop.

As the water rushed in the cut, Ada and Maggie walked down the sidewalk arm in arm. Finn wasn't too far in front of them. He was running and jumping around like a madman. That boy always had so much energy, Maggie found herself thinking. No wonder he skipped school, the poor thing probably could not sit still.

"That Murray boy has aged well hasn't he," Ada commented, finally breaking the silence, "Have you two?"

"Ada!" The younger sister cried out in surprise.

"Just asking." She shrugged, "Jesus you're a prude"

"Everyone's a prude compared to you" she retorted, "What were you doing at the pharmacy?"

Ada didn't reply though, instead opting to purse her lips. They were almost home now; Maggie could even see Pol heading to the house, traveling towards them. She was about to wave at her aunt until she was distracted by Finn, who ran around in front of his sisters. Her heart clenched when she noticed a black metal object in his hand.

"Finn, where did you get that gun?" she questioned, yet the youngest Shelby only giggled in response. 

"Oi! Quit messing around," Ada scolded, moving forward in an attempt to take the weapon away. "You shouldn't b-"

BANG! The sisters screamed and Aunt Polly, who had witnessed the whole event transpire, rushed over from down the street. Both the girls tried to catch their breath and a shocked Finn looked like he was trying to mentally process what had just happened. 

"The hell were you thinking?!" Polly scolded, snatching the gun from his hand. "Where did you get this?!

"He nearly fucking killed me!" Ada screeched pointing to her brother.

"I-I found it on the sideboard of the shop." Finn spit out as they watched his face concave and he soon began weeping in fear. "I-I thought it was empty. I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

His tears pulled on Maggie's heartstrings, but Polly wasn't having it. She pushed the sobbing boy towards Maggie ordering, "Take him home, and no more playing with guns. Next time you leave them be." 

The young boy nodded and allowed his sister to lead him back home."I didn't know Mags, I swear" he cried out again.

"I know you. You can apologize to Ada once she's feeling more forgiving" she expressed, her arms wrapped around his small shoulders.

OoOoOo

Childhood had molded her into the person she had become. Now she understood that...

Maggie internally groaned and scratched out what she had just written. No, that was definitely not good enough. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard a chuckle. Her eyes were taken off the page by Ada, who was getting ready for her date with some mystery man.

"What's so funny?" the younger sister grumbled.

"You," Ada smiled as she brushed her hair in front of the small vanity mirror, "And how seriously you take yourself."

Quickly she closed her journal, wanting to change the subject "So, what was the family meeting about?" Maggie asked, not genuinely curious.

"New copper’s coming to town," Ada replied unbothered, more interested in fastening her shoe buckle.

"When I went downstairs, I caught Finn trying to listen through the door. Told him off for eavesdropping," the younger sister snickered .

"Can you believe that little tosser?" Ada said, putting on her paste earring. "I don't know what's gotten into him lately. He could have killed me today!"

"It was an accident, Ada." She reasoned, opening her journal once more, "Pol already told him and John off, what more can you do?"

"I can still bitch," the older sister huffed, before looking at the book in her sisters' hands. "Are you ever gonna tell me what you're writing about?" Ada asked pointedly, now completely dressed in a white fur coat that rested over her dress.

"Are you ever gonna tell me who you've been going out to see the last few months?" Maggie shot back jokingly. 

Ada responded by pantomiming the locking of her lips, which only made the younger sister smile. "Cover for me?"

"As always," The girl assured Ada before she quietly opened and closed the bedroom door.

It was about an hour later when Maggie began to hear the familiar muffled cries. Feeling hopeless as she stared at the green papered wall.

OoOoOo

The following day was mostly uneventful for Margaret. She'd gone to school and heard all about Cara's "date" with Ross. According to Cara, he was a complete "gentleman", much to the blonde's disappointment, though she still clung onto hope. 

Now she stood in the kitchen with her Aunt and sister making dinner, continuously kneading some dough until her skinny arms began to burn. Hopefully, this batch of bread would last long enough for her to enjoy. Last time she made bread her siblings had eaten it all, not saving any for her. Upon hearing the door slam, she and her aunt stopped to glance over to the door.

"Holy Shit!" The girl exclaimed, witnessing her eldest brother who was bloody and beaten, being assisted by John into a wooden chair.

"Finn, go find Tommy and tell him what happened," Polly commanded. Like a shot, Finn was running out of the room, but not before Pol hurriedly added, "And tell him we need a shit ton of more alcohol!"

Polly then immediately began to gather gauze and rods of wood to make a splint, "Margaret, start heating up water, then cut this cloth up in stripes." Nodding at the directive, the girl began to do just that.

"The fuck happened?" Ada interrogated, arms crossing in front of her chest.

"Was told some of the men found him like this outside the cinema," John explained.

"Do you know who?" Maggie heard her sister continue as she put the kettle over the flame, but Arthur remained silent.

"I'd like to know as well," An aggravated Polly chimed in.

This time Arthur did speak. “That Belfast copper,” the mustached man spit out, "I'll discuss it more once Tom gets here."

They all fell into silence, the only noise coming from Maggie who pulled out a chair to sit next to her brother, and quietly began cutting the cloth Polly left for her on the table. "Do you think this is enough?" Maggie asked her aunt after she finished.

"Should be plenty, love," Pol told her, taking one of the strips to start mending his hand.

"John, wipe the blood out of his eye," Ada told the third eldest sibling who was just watching the ladies scrabble around as they tended to Arthur.

"Since when did you give orders?" John asked incredulously.

"I'm a trained nurse." The sister stated.

Though seeing as John wasn't budging Maggie rose from her seat and began to wipe the blood herself.

"Don't make me laugh. It hurts my face," Arthur joked as Polly bandaged him up. "You're a nurse like Mags here is a writer."

His comment caused more annoyance than Maggie cared to admit. With her index finger, she pressed onto a forming bruise on his cheek with great pressure, instigating a string of curses to come out of the eldest man's mouth.

"Oops," Maggie said insincerely. This caused Arthur to look to his aunt, wondering if any reprimanding would be given to the girl, but Polly just gave her brother a 'like you weren't asking for it' look.

 "I bloody am!" The older Shelby girl whined to John.

"You went to one first aid class in the church hall and got thrown out for giggling," John corrected her.

"Not before I learnt how to stop somebody from choking," she shot back.

"I'm not bloody choking, am I?" Arthur spoke gruffly.

"You will be when I wrap this cloth around your neck." She told him as she poured hot water from the kettle into the bowl.

"Let me see him." Tommy's voice was heard as he entered the kitchen. "Well, have this" Tommy passed the bottle of rum and Arthur took a swig. Grabbing a rag, he immediately got to work tending to his brother's face.

"He said Mr. Churchill sent him to Birmingham. 'National interest', he said. Something about a robbery." Arthur explained. "He said he wants us to help him"

"We don't help coppers," John said immediately, disgusted at the thought.

"He knew all about our war records. He said we're patriots like him. He wants us to be his eyes and ears. I said -" He paused a moment before continuing, "I said we'd have a family meeting and take a vote".

Everyone remained silent, and frankly, that was enough of an answer to the eldest. "Why not? We have no truck with Fenians or communist," Arthur said exasperated, before heatedly asking Tommy. "What's wrong with you?"

Tommy continued to stare back at him, before asking his aunt, "What the fuck is wrong with him lately?"

"If I knew I'd buy the cure from Compton's Chemist," Polly answered, staring at Tom who stared right back.

OoOoOo

Being alone at night was something Maggie had gotten used to now. The cries next door, however, that was something entirely different. Sighing to herself, she decided to give it another go. Once again, she rose from her bed, and ventured into the hallway. This time though she brought her journal with her. Not long she stood in front of her brother's door, allowing herself to open it. 

Again, in the candlelit room, she saw him lying in his bed staring at the ceiling, though she couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not. "Still awake?" she asked.

"Can't seem to fall asleep," Tommy mumbled calmly. She took his stillness as permission to enter.

"Do you remember when I was a little girl and you used to read me books to make me fall asleep?" she asked, moving closer to the bed, "I used to love those voices you'd do for all the different characters from the picture books."

He nodded and he couldn't help the ghost of a smile while thinking of the memory. Unlike his other siblings, Maggie was the only one who would beg him to read to her. It was something they bonded over.

"If you want," she continued, motioning her hand to hold the journal up. "I can read you my story." Tommy was silent as he looked at the journal for a moment, before Maggie added, "I just thought maybe I could try to help you sleep like you did for me."

"Only if you do voices" he stressed jokingly, then shifted his body to make room for her on the small mattress.

"Remember," she squished next to him leaning her back against his bed frame. "This is a work in progress."

"I won't judge you too harshly" he replied, watching her open the journal that lay on her lap.

"Long ago when she was young, she believed that what she saw in her dreams could be a vision of what was to come. It was only now she understood that it was just an amalgamation of-"

"A what?" He interrupted.

"An amalgamation" she repeated. "Do you not know what an amalgamation means?"

"No, I do. Didn't think you did."

"Shut up. You're supposed to allow my words to lull you to sleep."

"Sorry, please continue"

"It was only now she understood that it was just an amalgamation of all her childhood aspirations, fears, and perhaps a little  too much whiskey. With this knowledge she found herself yearning for-"

By this point, Tommy had closed his eyes and was half-listening to the words his sister read from her journal. It wasn't half bad what she wrote. He reckoned by the time she was his age she'd actually make something of herself all with those stories in her head. Perhaps make a career out of it, possibly even get out of Small Heath. It was to be the start of a new decade, a new time, who knows what would happen? When he finally made it back from France, her face was the first face that caught his attention on the station platform. It shocked him. No more was the little girl he would read stories to, but in her place stood a smiling young woman. She had changed so much during the time he was gone.

Come to think of it, they'd all changed. Arthur was head of the family, in charge of the business, and had done a decent job of it. But that was before France, he was different now. He quickly noticed the change in his brother and how he couldn't think straight anymore. Arthur's personality became more explosive, as well as violent. John, well he had become more reckless, especially after a few drinks got into him, and since Martha's passing the drinking had only increased. 

As for him, well he was the one who had changed the most. He used to be carefree, joke and laugh, but now he was more solemn and even more protective of his family. Constantly worrying about how Arthur couldn't handle the business anymore, how John couldn't be alone anymore, and him? Well, he couldn't stand to see his family scrape and scrounge in the slums of Small Heath in order to survive any longer. No, not anymore. New copper sniffing about or not. No matter what Polly said, Tommy saw an opportunity with these guns. He wasn't about to turn it down. He just had to play it smart. As Maggie continued her reading, Tommy could feel himself slowly begin to drift out of consciousness and into a dreamless sleep.

SHOW US YOUR WROR RAW UNPROCESSED WHOLE GRAIN ORGANIC NOTES

this is going to be a long-ass post i am so sorry to Everyone! i take a lot of notes.

So, as You specifically know (as well as all of my lovely Soggers) I take a LOT of notes. Obsessively. I write fucking everything bc i have very little memory and very much paranoia. This results in literal Piles of notes. Raw planning, on paper, on my phone– doodles of scenes im brainstorming, bulletpoints, entire SCRIPTS– it’s all there but scattered (I’ve got scenes planned in the margins of my goddamn anthropology notes and deciphering it was a NIGHTMARE) 

I won’t even upload all the photos of my writing notebook, because itd be like 50 pages of illegible nonesense. but heres a couple of planning phase pages. (may be hard to read, I dropped this notebook both into some tidepools, into a creek on campus, and accidentally leaked my waterbottle onto it in my backpack :/) 

if you can’t tell already, yes they all look exactly like this. Some are even more illegible, because I wrote them with the notebook half under my actual class notes. Because i wrote most of them in class. During lectures. And pretending very badly that i was not doing exactly that. (pay attention in class please i got away with this bc i was filling up elective units) 

I’m also flat out MISSING a large portion of my notes bc some of it? isnt even in the damn notebook. its on a sheet of binder paper, or on the empty back of an assignment. I’ve now lost most of those notes, but the ones i do still have are just as (even more, actually) indecipherable chicken scratch: 

Wow, how clean and tidy and easy to follow! i am in hell. 

and this doesnt mention the PAGES and PAGES of outlines that are on my laptop, and the pages of outlined scenes that are on the notes app of my phone. if i put them all, you would have entire chapter spoilers up to the very end of the story so i cant post a lot of them– and also theres just a goddamn lot of them. currently i have 16 pages of outlining. There are no spacing breaks. It is a solid 16 page block of text. Looking at it gives me a migraine. 

some assorted notes which i have dredged up from the deleted parts of the main draft google doc go all the way back to when i started Wror in June and they are Barely more readable than my handwriting on sheer account of: articulation is not my strength. These include: 

“Ch 8 plan: sabo gets trained specially, awakens his armament haki, beats ace in a bunch of spars and proves himself to be anything but vulnerable. The boys are like “we fucking recognize that technique ryu taught you before us!!” and goad ryu into finally starting them both on basic haki training, just to awaken it, since sabo already has. Also this is the chapter that ace finally confronts ryu for his devil fruit after ryu confirms that some devil fruit users can’t be hurt without haki and ace immediately catches onto that and tries to slam his pipe through ryus head. It doesn’t work, ryu catches the weapon with a haki covered hand, to avoid turning to flame with hit and ace just gets frustrated and accuses ryu of hiding his devil fruit, because he remembers what he saw in grey terminal and that now that he has seen haki he can distinguish it from what he saw and he’s sure no one could do what ryu did. He calls ryu a hypocrite for coddling them even after telling them to stop coddling sabo and ryu has to sit them down and explain that yes he does have powers and he has been hdiing it and explains his reasoning. However instead of understanding th eboys just get fired up and say they don’t wnt to be scared of fire, especially not when it means ryu isn’t taking them seriously in a spar. Ryu finally agrees to start them on desensitization training for fire trauma. Fire desensitization training happens on the beach, so that they have water nearby in case things get out of hand. At some point ace gives ryu a considering look and is just like “if you have a devil fruit that means you can’t swim either right?” and ryu is basically just like “lmao yeah” and then ace immediately attempts to drown him. Lots of murder attempts in ace’s department toget his older brother to be less of an idiot with little success lol(extra: ace tried to attack ryu earlier both to confirm that ryu has a devil fruit that would force him to use haki to hide it, and because he now knows that he CAN’T hurt ryu without haki and as thus can’t beat him and make him admit he’s awake without being good at haki.)” [chapter 8] 

“Small sabo lost his hat and goggles in the incident and while he doesn’t remember having them future sabo notices he looks uncomfortable and keeps touching his hair and head. Ace yells at him for it thinking he bandaging are bothering him and that he can’t touch them but little sabo just comments that something about it feels wrong. Luffy blurts our that he had a hat, like luffy does, But he doesn’t now ace begrudgingly mentions that they can’t get a new one in town. Future sabo doesn’t even hesitate and just plops his own hat onto his younger selves head. It clearly too big for him, and almost falls over his eyes but he grins up at future sabo and is like “wow!! Thank you! I’ll take care of it till I have one of my own” and creates a paradox like Luffys own hat. The footsteps younger sabo has yet to fill. This HAS to happen AFTER the talk where they explain that future and past sabo are both the same person, to give little sabo that pressure.” [chapter 9]

“(Right after this older sabo takes them down to the ocean so that they can play a little and desensitize themselves and immediately fucks himself over when he goes weak in the water bc he somehow fucking forgot his own devil fruit again and now even younger sabo is on his case about not letting him near the fucking ocean that little goddamn HYPOCRITE—) )” [for chapter 9]

“Ch 9 plan: they finally leave dawn island. Starts with the boys getting a haircut after training and luffy mentions how long it’s been since they’ve last needed a haircut, giving sabo and ace time to point out that it’s been 2 months now since ryu joined them, and that sabo was completely healed by now. The boys are now aware of the basics of haki, and while luffy hasnt awakened either yet ace and sabo both have a little bit of weak armament haki. (sabo won’t awaken observational haki until he gets his memories back) ryu tries to sneak off into the city to steal a boat but his brothers refuse to leave him behind and keep sneaking out after him, not wanting him to go alone and saying that since he’s been training them they’re clearly stronger and he needs to let them do this. Ryu eventually just lets it go because why the fuck not it’s a dream and they make him feel better. They get the boat out on open ocean and finally fucking sail out, cheering loudly, ryu struggling to make them all calm down but also not really trying. He’s happy as shit, and they’re all so excited and happy and sabo dips a hand into the waves and then smiles so fucking wide and tackles ryu so violently they both nearly tip into the water and it’s just very very good. “ [also for ch 9] 

** I flat out dont Have any outlining from before chapter 6, because i only started actually outling chapters after that. i tend to just sit down and Write up until i hit a plot point or writers block and then am forced to actually think it through and plan rather than letting it come naturally. thats also why the quality and editing is better in later chapters despite everything being written within the same time frame. 

besides entire chapter outlines, there are the scene specific phone notes like:

“(ADDED) Right after they leave dawn, when sabo is sure they’ve gotten enough of a head start, he calls Garp. He doesn’t say who he is, but that all of the boys are safe and happy with him and has them all talk into the phone to assure him that they’re fine. Garp is honestly just pissed off he doesn’t know who’s calling and when he asks sabo just laughs and says a disobedient brat before hanging up. “

“(ADDED) TO EXPAND ON CH 3: sabo gets offered the chance to go with dragon, and he hesitates on the offer to go through with his previous life with the family he’s made in the revolutionary again. He almost agrees, because the bought of losing them in this lifetime is near excruciating but reminds himself swiftly that it’s no place for his brothers and not what they’d really want, and he wants selfishly to be with them as long as he Can until he “inevitably” wakes up. The boys are visibly relieved by this, especially ace. (Sabo gets asked who he is by dragon, who wants to know more about the stranger with his son, but dragon has always been quicker to make connections no one guessed and he just smiled knowingly at sabo and tells him he’s sure the other will have no trouble finding them if he’s in need. Sabo in turn warns him to keep Kuma close, and to look for a slave girl named koala.)”

I have…. many of these. I have Many of Everything. 

finally, i have scene doodles. if i hit a bad writers block it usually helps me to sketch scenes or the character designs to regain my grip on what the hell is happening in the plot– Breach of Intention has character design sketches, pakcbond has MANY scene sketches, even some of my nsfw has some sketches. my wror skecthes arent Good of course, I am an art teacher for children and that means i am more often explaining the color wheel and brush techniques over drawing perfect human replicas– and i just dont really make a lot of fanart? ive never drawn sabo before but i sure have a bunch now. i wont include close ups because they genuinely suck but heres an example pic 

So… yeah thats about everything. this is a VERY long post and yet i only included like maybe ¼ or 1/5 of all the notes i have dbskhjgfkjadns lmk if anyone wants more (or notes for my Other stories, which contain NO WHERE the same absurd amount of shit that wror does.)

Process and wip images for A House That Holds Long Limbs (Part 8)

Previous process and wip documentation: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Parts 6 and 7

Read the pages here: Part 8 (full complete version will be linked from YYH North Bound master post)

I personally love exploring character dynamics and character interaction! It's definitely what I tend to focus on in comics and stories. Plus you get to draw lots of closeups of people's faces and have a lot of fun with expressions. And that's what Part 8 is full of.

IN THIS EDITION, after the usual script and thumbnails, I'll take a bit of time to talk about expressions and characterization (my thoughts on Raizen and Hokushin specifically, but also some general thoughts on how I approach writing characters and character interactions). More details of some of the panels from part 8 so you can see the faces better!

Script and thumbnails

(If you look closely at the top of pg 2, you can see the page behind was where I started drawing my random dream sequence hahahah)

It’s always kind of funny to look back at the script and see my rushed typing (or texting on my phone, since I’m often doing this on mobile...) - odd typos and dangling/incomplete thoughts like ”my blodd” (lol).

Part 8 was one of the first sequences conceived in the development of this story. As a result, the script and the thumbnails both line up very closely to the final, because I’d already been thinking about it for so long and playing the scene out repeatedly in my head. I had a very concrete sense of how I wanted to direct it, unlike many of the action sequences from previous parts. The main areas I struggled with were historical details (the karaginu was originally labelled “tarp” in the script as a placeholder until I decided what it would be), and the biggest pagination change was probably moving Raizen’s “Maybe you just didn’t take enough off lol!” to the previous page so that Hokushin’s (literal) punchline would be at the beginning of the next.

Expressions

I have a huuuuge soft spot for subtle expressions - the kind where just a bit of extra line or texture around the eyes or the mouth, plus the dialogue or context of the scene, adds nuance to an expression. Especially ones that otherwise can read as relatively neutral. Even a very simple expression that’s just dots for eyes and straight lines for the upper/lower lids and eyebrows can have a lot of variation in how you interpret them, simply based on context and slight adjustments. Here are some examples with Raizen, where his face is super basic:

A: pretending nothing is wrong, calmly answering question

B: pleased with self for being smart - clearly a happer expression than A

C: similar to A, chillaxing and answering question

D: no big smiling mouth so he looks more like he’s focused on intensely sniffing the air

E: same as B basically, but a bigger smile of “everything’s fine!” (when you read the text)

F: extra thickness for his upper lid gives the sense that he’s in the middle of his casual sexy/chivalrous how ya doin’ expression

G: ... which changes in this panel to be more a realization (“oh shit I’m on fire”)

Actually, Raizen and Hokushin are both pretty difficult face types for me, being more “mature” looking male faces with stronger features/jawlines and narrower eyes. Hokushin especially has been challenging because his design has really low eyebrows which result in a default glare. Togashi still manages to make him fairly expressive and not look like he's glowering all the time. With my more limited art skill and lack of confidence, I tend to soften his expressions by really laying on the top line of his eye (this sounds like I'm putting mascara on him or something lmao), and also adjusting the size of his pupils (within reason or it starts to look even less like how I draw him normally, which is a big problem since his shaved head is a defining aspect of his series character design so he already looks pretty different). Here are some comparisons of his face - bearing in mind I had to keep his eyes wide open because of the seals in the story:   

A: crying/relief

B: this one here is supposed to be a bit miserable/self-loathing because he really didn’t think Raizen was going to look for him

C: shock, unexpected

D: thinking + “ugh plan B”

E: worried/apologetic and then “OOF/URK”

F and G: a progression to show the differences in rendering the eye. First is a bit angry because he’s realizing where all the blood for the seals came from, then he notices Raizen’s hands, and G is that example of softened expression (more lines on the top eye, larger pupil) to show how bad he feels about Raizen’s injury. 

One last thought on expressions. They can easily lose their nuance when inking (the slightest shift to a line can change the expression completely), and especially for someone like me who has unsteady hands it can be a bit of a nightmare. The nice thing about ballpoints is that they can retain a bit of the pencil sketch quality, which helped me freak out less when inking the last page with Hokushin’s glare. Here’s a comparison of the progress:

Though this particular expression isn’t that subtle, you can still see some differences as the drawing gets built up. When the pencil lines are gone and the drawing gets rendered in bw only, a lot of shading is lost. The messy lines can be interpreted more flexibly by your brain since they’re less defined and you haven’t “committed”, so the final version looks and feels less expressive. (This is why a lot of artists prefer their sketches to the finished piece, myself included...) Characterization This will get very specific to this comic, obviously, but hopefully my approach (and biases haha) will come through. With something like a fancomic, there are obviously existing expectations around the characters, but the benefit of working with these guys is that they’re not as prominent in the story or the fandom, so I feel more comfortable playing around and filling in the gaps. (This is probably why I like minor characters so much.)

In the case of Raizen and Hokushin, we know these two have a close relationship and history only through assumption and insinuation. We never see them interacting directly in the series at all. Actually, we don't see Raizen interact with anyone except Yusuke in non-flashback sequences (aside from the kudakusushi. In the anime, more scenes were added with his estranged friends, mostly their fond memories of him beating them up lmao). But it's very clear that they're extremely important to each other. Hokushin obviously speaks of his king in an exceedingly respectful fashion. Meanwhile, Hokushin is actually the last name Raizen says before he dies - his second last line, to Yusuke, is "Take care of Hokushin and the others" - or in my Taiwanese edition, "I leave Hokushin and the others to you". (Lol “the others”. Also I need to draw a comic about this at some point.) Despite this zero actual interaction, it's still extremely easy to imagine it because their characters are so clearly defined. In fact, they're both such consistent archetypes with enough particular quirks that they practically write themselves. So it wasn't difficult to extrapolate and imagine much younger versions of them, and how they may have interacted if they had only just met, which is the foundation of North Bound. Archetypes and stereotypes walk a fine line together, but they do serve as really useful building blocks for sketching characters quickly. This is why I really enjoy symbolic systems like astrology (or some of the the modern incarnations - personality assessment frameworks) because of all the character sketching it helps you do really quickly. Astrology in particular because, without even caring about birth dates or charts or whether astrology is "real" or not, the basic idea of a sign and its bucket of traits and symbols is simply a great resource when you want fleshed out character archetypes to build off of. I talked a bit about this in my Lenormand post, but I think of zodiac signs as one of the many games humans have developed in our attempts to categorize our world into recognizable patterns, and since we've been at it for thousands of years, there's a wealth of reference material, scenarios, analyses not only of the individual archetypes, but for all sorts of combinations and relationships. Some of it very well-thought out, and some of it just lots of fun to read. For my purposes, applying this to North Bound, Raizen is basically a Leo. He's dramatic, positive, powerful, passionate, a straight-shooter. Not only does he embody its main traits, he's literally a king (or eventually one in this story, I guess). And he even has a mane, for crying out loud. Meanwhile, Hokushin is a solid depiction of a quintessential Virgo - hardworking, practical, analytical, stoic, kind - and literally the loyal servant that typifies the Virgo paradigm. The Leo/Virgo duo is a classic partnership, and at the point where we meet them in the series, the relationship we can see has stabilized to exactly that. At the same time, there's tons of potential for a hilarious dynamic as well, especially imagining how they got to that point. (If you wanna have a laugh, look up some analyses of Leo and Virgo relationships and you'll see what I mean.) His freakouts next to Raizen's "hahhaa everything's fine!" carry most of the humour (similar to how his freakout at Yusuke's vandalism of the rurimaru stones carried a ton of the humour in that episode lol). Obviously there are other things that further finetune their characters so that they're more than bland cookie cutter personalities (Raizen's deep thinking about the future of the Demon World, for example, and Hokushin's sense of humour and appreciation/enjoyment of fighting), but in broad brushstrokes, these archetypes work incredibly well, and make it so easy to come up with scenarios and write interaction to the point that I'm now ridiculously behind in actually turning them into comics ahhhhh...

No Jam (Part 3/Final)

Characters: Reader x Markson (GOT7) Genre: Angst, Fluff, Slice-of-Life Words: ~4300 Plot: He said you were boring–not enough. You agreed. You were happier on your own anyways. But six months later you find yourself on a blind date with a new guy and late night talks with another. Looks like being forever alone is not on your agenda. [Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] a/n: A bit late but here is the final part of No Jam ^^  I was struggling to write this part (in fact I wrote it 3 times lol) and to be honest I’m still a bit iffy about it but if I didn’t post it anyways, I probably never would have finished the story ^^;;; Also I go back and forth between past and present in this so I hope it’s not confusing but if it is, please tell me so I can improve in my writing :DDD Thanks for following the whole way through for my first mini series ^u^ - “I-umm, do you want to have dinner here?” she asked suddenly as I was about to leave. “I mean, I’m not much of a cook, but I make a pretty mean ramen.”  I couldn’t help myself as chuckles of both relief and happiness escaped me. Ramen never sounded so enticing.   Her smile mirrored mines as she opened the door to her apartment. And suddenly butterflies filled my stomach. Her apartment had always been a secret realm, a place whose door I had become well-acquainted with. But the stark white of her door gave no clues about the girl that lived behind it.   And right at this moment the door was opening for me. She was opening it for me.

“Sorry my place is a little messy right now,” her voice broke my trance as I entered. Her apartment looked exactly like her—a small but open space with warm hardwood floors and cream furniture draped in fuzzy, fleece blankets. In the corner of the room was a small desk stacked with binders of paperwork. It looked out of place in the room and on closer inspection it seemed to be office work. She kept insisting she was just an assistant, but it was obvious she wasn’t. Looking at the other tables around the room, sprawled with sketches and handwritten story drafts, it was obvious to anybody who saw, that she was a writer. I glanced back to where she stood by the stove, a small smile etched on her lips as she inhaled the steam from the noodles. I let out a breath at the sight, her hair falling down her face in loose curls. She was queen of insisting how boring she was, but every moment we shared put me on edge. It wasn’t like this at first. A year ago she was just a cute girl who ordered to-go cups in the morning, and who passed by in the evenings with her head down, shoulders sulking, slowly making her way back home. And though I was curious how she spent her days, that was all—mere curiosity. It wasn’t until three months later that I began to realize her routine of coming into the coffee house every first Tuesday of the month to chat with her friend. And then she started coming by herself. At first it was just the weekends, but slowly it became every day. With her tired shoulders, she’d come into the café each evening, order a cappuccino and then lose herself in the world that lived inside her leather journal. “You’re staring again, Boss,” Bambam grinned cheekily one night when Y/N was staying later than usual. “I’m just surveying the mood of my customers. It’s called good business, Bambam,” I retorted, quickly glancing away. The younger boy chuckled. “Just go talk to her. It’s better business to talk to your customers.” But I never could. She always looked so tired when she came each evening, but her smile always returned when she sat down and opened her notebook. Interrupting that felt rude, like I was invading her space. It was that night that I learned she had a boyfriend. He was tall and handsome, which was fitting for a beautiful girl, but there was something off about him. It was the little things. Like on the weekends when they had afternoon coffee together, he would go on for hours while she smiled quietly. Or when he suddenly visited her some evenings, she would close her journal midsentence and follow him out the door without even finishing her cappuccino. But what bothered me the most was what he didn’t do. He never asked her questions. Not even a simple: How was your day? Maybe they had been together long enough to know every inch of each other, but even so, people change, they grow. How would you know unless you asked her? Perhaps I was just sour with envy but if I were him I don’t think I’d have enough time in the world to ask her all the questions I wanted to. What made her happy? What made her sad? Tired? Scared? I wanted to know it all. But all I could ever do was send her messages via paper to-go cups. “Y/N,” I spoke up, glancing back at her by the stove. “Are the drawings on your table part of the book you’re working on?” Her cheeks turned pink at the question as she mumbled a soft, “Ah…yeah.” She fingered at a strand of her hair shyly before tucking it behind her ear, which was even more flushed than her face. The simple gesture made me smile. “I didn’t know you were an artist too.” “They’re just doodles…” There was a slight pause before she glanced up at me shyly. “It’s a children’s book.” I smiled at the sketches on the table. It took a full year to finally know what she was working on. I wondered if he even knew what she was dreaming up the whole time they were together. She always closed her notebook so quickly whenever he stopped by. And it wasn’t too long until he just stopped coming by altogether. To be honest, I spent many nights wishing he’d never come again so she could spend more late nights at the coffee house, but then one winter evening, my wish came true. I could see it in her eyes as soon as she stepped into the café with only a thin sweater and her bag full of stories. “Cappuccino is already on its way,” I greeted her playfully as she stood in front of the register. She glanced at me with cloudy eyes before mustering up a weak smile. “Hmm? Ah, thanks.” “I’ll bring it to you when it’s ready,” I replied, watching as she quietly nodded before heading to her usual table. “What’s wrong, Boss?” Bambam asked after he caught me staring at her back for far too long. “Something must’ve happened to her,” I muttered, before personally attending to her cappuccino. Bambam chuckled, shaking his head at me. “How can you even tell? Isn’t she always like that?” I shrugged in response, praying to the gods that my intuition was wrong. Perhaps it was just a bad day at work. Or maybe she just had a small fight with her boyfriend. Any minute now he would come running through that door, ready to make up with her. But as the hours passed her boyfriend never came running through the café doors and then, it was closing time. “What do you want me to do about her?” Bambam whispered as the café music came to a full stop. “Just…You can head home. I’ll take care of the rest.” And then it was just the two of us. Alone. For the first time. It was strange. I spent months pining after this girl, degrading her boyfriend in my head, and suddenly I’m given the opportunity of a lifetime but I wasn’t happy. To be very honest, it was a pretty shitty feeling. All I wanted in that moment was to turn back time to when she was with another man and happy. But I couldn’t turn back time. I could only sit next to her and watch as she crumbled before my eyes. Putting all other thoughts aside, I pulled her into my arms, hugging her tightly as she trembled out an endless stream of tears. It was then that I made a promise to protect her smile, even at the cost of my own. “It’s what I’ve been working on the past six months,” Y/N spoke up, handing me a stack of her illustrations. I smiled as I felt the smooth paper between my fingertips. Y/N just handed me her world, allowed me in. I tried to act nonchalant but my heart was pumping in my chest. But the air in my lungs quickly grew stale as I thumbed through the pages. This was not the world I hoped for her. The children’s story was about a rabbit—a quiet rabbit and her beloved boy. The boy loved soft things and so the quiet rabbit pruned her fur all through the night. And the boy loved the quiet rabbit. The boy loved bouncy things and so the quiet rabbit practiced hopping until her hind legs were sore. And the boy loved the quiet rabbit. Then the boy said he loved fun things. He told the rabbit to speak. So the rabbit tried her best to speak. She spent nights and days, huffing and puffing for her voice to sound. She tried so hard until her belly was aching and her throat was hoarse, but no sound came. And the boy no longer loved the quiet rabbit. He threw the quiet rabbit away. My eyes lingered on the last page she had drawn so far. The rabbit was crying and in a small thought bubble, she had softly etched out the words, “I am not enough.” “You’re the first person to see my work, Mark. Please be gentle on my fragile heart.” She made it to sound like a joke but I could hear the faint trembling in her voice. She was nervous. Vulnerable. And in these pages, I could feel her heart breaking as if it was six months ago and she was crying in my arms again. I didn’t know him, but I hated him—hated how he affected her. She was perfect just the way she was, but he had blinded her to that. No matter how much she insisted on being okay with being “boring”, with being alone, it was the fact that she kept insisting that meant she wasn’t okay, right? She repeated herself almost daily to reassure herself more than anyone else. I stared at Y/N’s back as she put the dishes away. She was stuck. As strong and as indifferent she made herself to appear, the truth was that she was just as stuck as the quiet rabbit in her book. It was why no matter how much time she spent each evening, sketching away in her journal, the ending never came. The rabbit was stuck on the same page, abandoned and afraid. And I could do nothing for her, except sit and watch. “Are you gonna go on a third date?” I finally asked, biting at my lips nervously. My eyes wandered over her as she looked away. Even with her tired eyes and messy hair falling loosely on her shoulders, she looked amazing. In a way, it was better than this morning… “You missed your chance,” Bambam scolded me as I gazed out the coffee house window where Y/N stood by the lamp post across the street. I sighed because I knew he was right. She looked stunning in that white dress. It was like an angel had appeared in front of the coffee house, albeit, a pretty nervous angel but beautiful nonetheless. It made me wonder if I had thought of this new Jackson guy too loosely. It didn’t seem like she liked him much from their first meeting but maybe I was wrong. After all, if her ex was any indication of the kind of men she liked, then the talkative, hyena-laughing Jackson was the perfect fit. Except he was better. As much as I hated to admit it, Jackson seemed like an honestly good guy. I should be happy for her. But as I watched Jackson approach her, and the smile that returned to her lips, I couldn’t help thinking that that could have been me. But I was just the coffee house guy that made her cappuccinos. So I watched Jackson take Y/N by the hand and pull her further away. The moment I held her in my arms, I promised I would protect her happiness, but I never thought it would be so hard now that she was quickly becoming my world. I didn’t want to see her in another man’s arm again. Yet, right about now she probably was. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy,” I spoke up again, realizing she hadn’t answered my question. “No, you’re not, I just don’t know that answer to your question.” “Is it because you’re hesitant about dating, or are you unsure about Jackson?” She leaned closer to me. “How do you always know the right questions to ask, Mark?” And I chuckled, letting out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. I slipped my arm around her, holding her close. Truth was I just wanted her to say Jackson. I wanted her to give me a reason to keep holding her close. But she didn’t answer. “What’s your ideal guy, Y/N?” I asked. She was quiet again, resting her head closer to my chest now. I took in deep breaths, hoping to calm my nervous heart. I don’t know why I was so nervous though. I knew she wouldn’t answer me because with all our late night talks, it was obvious she didn’t know herself. Or maybe that was just my way of holding on…in case one day she’ll like a guy like me. “Are you asleep?” “Umm, I don’t really have an ideal guy either,” she whispered back. I sighed. It probably wasn’t a guy like me. “It’s getting late,” I uttered reluctantly. She left my arms a little too quickly. In a blink of an eye I was outside of her world again and despite the summer air, I felt cold as I stared back at her longingly. “Thanks for always being there for me,” she whispered softly. And in her white dress, looking timid and tired, with her shoulders slumped but a smile etched on her lips, I wanted to pull her into another hug. She looked like her quiet rabbit. “I just,” I muttered, looking into her eyes and hoping she could see all the love I carried in it. “I hope you know that you’re enough.” - The next day, she didn’t come to the coffee house. Or for the rest of the week either. “Did something happen between you and Cappuccino girl?” Bambam asked cautiously one evening when it was clear she wasn’t coming in again. I shook my head but my eyebrows remained furrowed as I stared at the café entrance. A part of me was still hoping to see her walk through those doors. Why did she suddenly stop coming? Did I do something wrong that night? “Why did she stop coming then?” Bambam continued to ask. I grumbled at his insistence. “I don’t know.” “Well, why don’t you go find out?” I glanced at the younger boy who only shook his head at me while laughing. “It’s not like you work here, Boss. I can close the shop tonight. Besides, isn’t her house like fifteen minutes from here?” “It’s ten.” “Even better! You can grab some flowers on your way there,” Bambam chuckled before ushering me out from behind the counter. “Why would I need flowers?” The younger boy just laughed. “Just get them. Flowers are always nice to have in hand.” I shrugged, letting Bambam push me out of the shop. The truth was, I wanted to visit her the first day she stopped coming, but that’s just plain creepy. I’m sure she allowed me into her space with the confidence that I wouldn’t take advantage of that knowledge…which was to say, I shouldn’t go stalking her…even if I was really curious. I mean, I am justified in going. How can you expect me to not be curious when she’s been coming by every single day for a whole year only to suddenly stop abruptly for an entire week? That’s a whole seven days! I mean, I’m a pretty good acquaintance. Friend even? I’m just worried is all. What if she fell sick? Or worse, what if she got kidnapped. I paused in my steps as the thought suddenly hit me. Oh my goodness, what if she’s been kidnapped?! With a bouquet of flowers in hand, I sprinted towards her apartment, only stopping when I was greeted by the same stark whiteness of her door. At least there was no sign of blood on it. I knocked at her door only to be greeted by a silence that made my sweat run cold. Of course, I was quickly pulled out of my delusions when I saw two figures walking down the hallway. There was Y/N looking as healthy and beautiful as ever…with Jackson. At the corner in the hall, she pulled him into a hug before waving him off. And as much as I was happy to see her happy and alive, I was equally just as sad. This meant I did something wrong, right? This meant she was purposely avoiding the café…avoiding me. And I wanted to disappear. I shouldn’t have listened to Bambam. But Y/N’s apartment was in a corner and the only way out was by passing by her. I mentally curled into a ball as I awaited the despair that would be my embarrassing self when Y/N walks passed me. “M-Mark?” I opened my eyes to find her smiling up at me. She looked genuinely happy to see me…which made me even more confused. “Have you been standing out here this whole time?” she asked in exasperation as she quickly rummaged through her purse for her keys. “I’m sorry if I kept you waiting. You know, we really should have exchanged numbers by now.” I followed her in blankly. She was talking to me like normal. Did I not do anything wrong? Why did she go missing for seven days then?! “Ooh,” she muttered softly. “Your poor flowers.” I glanced down to where she was looking. My bouquet of daisies was looking more like a bouquet of stems now. I chuckled at the sight before handing her the sorry-looking flowers. “They’re actually your poor flowers.” She looked at me with bright eyes as she slowly put down her things. A smile settled on her lips as she gently patted the flowers in her arms. “Nothing a little water can’t fix,” she whispered as she moved to her kitchen sink. She was in a plain blouse and jeans, with her hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, but she looked different. Her shoulders weren’t slumped over. Her steps seemed lighter. Was this the effect of Jackson? “You seem happy,” I mumbled, standing beside her as she cut off the ends of the stems. “Today was a good day,” she replied softly. As if naturally, she leaned closer to me so that our arms touched and it took all of my power not to pull her into my arms. I could smell her faint perfume, light citrus and sweet cotton. It was an odd combination that was uniquely hers. It was addictive. “I’m glad you stopped by today,” she confessed quietly as she put the flowers in a vase. She took my hand gently and led me into her living room area. And warmth flushed to my cheeks as an involuntary smile spread across my face. But I didn’t want to be happy. What was even happening right now? “Looks like you decided to go on that third date after all,” I finally spoke up, before cringing because I sounded more bitter than I wanted to. “Hmm?” “Jackson,” I mumbled as I took a seat on the couch. Grabbing her bag across the room, she sat down next to me. She glanced up thoughtfully. “Actually, I didn’t.” I arched my eyebrows up at her in confusion. “We decided to just be friends.” I bit at my lip to keep from smiling too widely. I waited for her to go on. “Jackson is a wonderful guy, but I could only see him as a friend.” “Then…” I paused, fiddling with my fingers nervously. Why did you stop coming? What did I do wrong? As if she knew what I was thinking, she leaned closer to me. “You were right. I do hold back a lot of the times.” “You just work at your own pace,” I defended. She shook her head against my shoulder. “No, I hold back. I am a private person. I never want to share what’s going on, but also, no one ever asks.” She turned to look at me with a smile. “And then you came along and only ever asked the right questions.” I chuckled. “And now all you do is talk, talk, talk.” She rolled her eyes, hitting my arm playfully. “Why did you visit me today?” “Why did you stop?” Without answering me, Y/N pulled her bag into her lap and began pulling out materials. “I was meeting with Jackson the past week because he knew another writer that volunteered with him at the children’s hospital.” With a huge smile, she put a loosely-binded book into my lap. “Through him, I met with an agent and a publisher,” her voice climbed an octave as she sat up with excitement. “You’re looking at the first edition of my first book.” My eyes widened as her words began to make sense. Without thinking I pulled her into my arms, squeezing her into my chest as I laughed with excitement. “That’s amazing! You’re amazing, Y/N!” She chuckled against me, her arms finding its way around me as well. “Of course, I’ll have to edit everything from the writing to the art and it’ll take months before it gets released, but the publisher liked the premise so much he gave me a contract on the spot.” Without thinking, I kissed her forehead. “You’ve worked hard for this.” Y/N cleared her throat, chuckling nervously as she pulled out of my arms. Her face was flushed as she fiddled with her thumbs and suddenly I realized…I just kissed her. “S-so t-hat’s why you haven’t been coming…” “Ah, yeah, kinda…” I looked back at her. “Kinda?” She sighed. “I’m sorry I left you hanging. The truth is that night, I realized a lot of things. It was like I was standing on my tiptoes for six months, waiting to hear the words you told me that night…when you said I was enough, I couldn’t stop crying after you left.” “I…made you cry?” I whispered nervously. “But like, tears of relief,” she reassured me, lightly placing her hand over mines. I flipped my hand over to clasp hers. She smiled at the gesture. “I kept saying I wanted to be with someone who just understood me, but there always was someone.” I smiled back when she looked at me. “Mark, I’m really glad I met you. But when you told me I was enough, I was happy but also afraid. I didn’t want to repeat my past, only finding validation in someone else’s words. Our late night talks have taught me that much at least.” I nodded my head quietly, squeezing her hand as encouragement. “So I stepped away for a little bit to do some soul searching. The words you told me had to come from myself.” “And now you have a book published.” She laughed, collapsing into my arms again. “Only a contract. It’ll be a long while until I get published.” “Look at you, speaking like a writer,” I teased. She blushed. “Only because you’ve been pushing me this whole time,” she said softly. She lifted the book on my lap, opening the cover slowly. My cheeks, my ears, my heart—warmth filled me as I read the first page. With her skin, soft against me, smelling like citrus and cotton and home, I felt myself melting against her. Dedicated to Mark—for being the moon that comforts me when the night feels too dark. “You helped me find my ending,” she whispered. She paused for a long while before looking back into my eyes. “This is really sudden and it’s okay to say no, but I was wondering if you’d like to help me with a new beginning.” I broke into a laugh as I pulled her in close. “Oh my goodness, you’re even asking me out like a writer!” “Mark!” she whined, though a smile spread across her face. “Give me a break, this is my first time!” I pulled her even closer, until our foreheads touched and I could feel her light breathing against my lips. “I hope you know, that a new beginning,” I whispered softly, gazing into her eyes. “doesn’t mean I haven’t forgotten about that dinner you owe me.” She laughed, her head leaving mines as her eyes wrinkled into happy lines. “You’re going to make me pay on the first date?” she teased. I smiled at the sound of her words. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.” “Come on, let’s not make you wait any longer then.” “It better be as extravagant as you promised.” “I know this coffee shop nearby that’s pretty fancy.” “Haha, very funny.” - He threw the quiet rabbit away. Without the little boy, all her days felt like night. The nights stretched long and dark. The quiet rabbit was afraid. But on the other side of the darkness, there lived a gentle moon. This moon watched over the quiet rabbit as she pruned her fur, as she practiced hopping until her hind legs were sore, and until her quiet voice became hoarse. And the moon loved the quiet rabbit. So he shed his light on the quiet rabbit. And nights were no longer scary. The quiet rabbit did not have the little boy by her side anymore, but she was okay. The quiet rabbit loved the gentle moon and that was enough.

Lotsa replies

Figured I’d better do ‘em before I get absorbed in writing up this tutorial thing...

These go back a ways because I’ve been, as usual, lazy/preoccupied. :) They’re for @esotheria-sims, @maybesomethingdunno, @nerianasims, @penig, @holleyberry, @plumbobsquareface (who has an awesome username), @immerso-sims, @eulaliasims, @lisac-h, @mustluvcatz-reloaded, @sim-boo, @acquiresimoleons, @pensblr, @didilysims, annnnnnnnd @mrningbrd...

Geez, I need to not put off doing these like this... And I should probably split this up, but...meh.

esotheria-sims replied to your post “So, um....”

Well, with an introduction like this, even if I *weren't* interested in the stuff you have to offer (spoiler alert: I am), I'd still be curious to see what it is at the very least. :) Some of those old Pandorasims sets (if those are what you were referring to here) could definitely use better textures.

Yup, some of the stuff is from Pandorasims, indeed. And from xxxsims. Slig did some nice recolors of some of the latter’s stuff, at least, but I want to high-res ‘em a bit and do some different colors for my own uses. The Pandora stuff, though? Needs serious help. I mean, I get that the textures for these items were probably not the main attraction and all, but...well, such things are important to me. :) I want my game to look nice even if no one sees this particular aspect of it but me. And I imagine storytellers would want better-looking textures, too, for pics/videos.

maybesomethingdunno replied to your post “So, um....”

Generally speaking, I feel like if you want to create something (whether it's Sims content, a story, or a goofy sketch), then create it. When it comes to Sims content, there's always someone who'll download and appreciate the content. Simmers are a diverse breed with a wild assortment of stories, hoods, and gameplay needs/desires. So on the heels of "If you want to make it, make it" is "If you want to share what you've made, share it." Kinky Sims for all! :D

*high five* Yeah, I know what you mean and that’s generally my attitude, too. This stuff, however, was going to be just for me, but then I got to thinking about how there’s a dearth of nice-looking stuff of this type and...Well, I can do something about that. I think, anyway. We’ll see, with some of the stuff. But, due to the more sensitive nature of this kind of stuff...Well, I second-guess. :)

nerianasims replied to your post “So, um....”

I'm interested and have no need to be anon about it. (Also grr 50 Shades times a million, such a horrible example and SO badly written to boot.)

OMG, don’t even get me started. I mean, OK, yeah, the whole thing sort of normalized mine and my husband’s lifestyle a little bit which on the one hand might be a good thing....but on the other hand, it didn’t do it right. Even if it was well-written (which it totally isn’t; it was a bad Twilight fanfic that was obviously written by someone who’d never had even remotely kinky sex, much less any contact with real people who practice BDSM), it portrayed an abusive relationship, not the sort of thing real people who are into this sort of thing practice. Just...ugh. Awful, awful thing. >:(

penig replied to your photo “Owen has…interesting…jammies.  And, like Aaron when he was a kid, Owen...”

What pervert even made those in a kid's size?

Skell, I think. I think it’s part of her repository project. I don’t think it’s necessarily perverted, though, especially not in game context. I mean, if you go by the speech bubbles, kids regularly talk about sex with their parents/siblings at the dinner table in the game. :) But even if that wasn’t the case...Well, kids will wear or have or do inappropriate things that they don’t know are inappropriate. They just think it’s pretty or something. Like, in this case, I imagine Owen likes those jammie pants just because they have purple hearts on them. He’s purple, so he likes purple things. :) He has no idea what they mean, and his parents probably think it’s funny. Because they’re that way.

holleyberry replied to your photo “Do you think she adores him? I think she adores him. He, of course, is...”

What's a Gilsbruty to do?

Not much, apparently. *grumble* CERTAINLY NOT PROCREATE! *glares at Simon and wills him to pass on his genes, dammit!*

plumbobsquareface replied to your post “Were-Klingons! Actually, wouldn't that be a nice idea for a default...”

i'm so glad to see other simers that are also into star trek :')

Ohhhhh, I’m a big huge honking dorky Trek nerd. Even published a fanzine, back in the day, was heavily involved in Usenet newsgroups in the early days of the internet and was staff on one of the big-at-the-time forums when such things came to be. I’m not in the fandom per se anymore at all for various reasons, but I’ll always watch the shows and read fanfic and that sort of thing. (DS9 is my fave. TOS will always have a special place in my heart, of course, but most of my Trekker heart belongs to DS9. :) )

immerso-sims replied to your photo “Aaron GilsCarbo, dancing like the nerd he is.”

Dem pink sandals tho ;)

Aren’t they precious? He actually aged into the outfit all by his little self and the pink sandals just sort of define him. That and the surfer hair. :)

maybesomethingdunno replied to your photo “This is Josephine. Young, pregnant with an unknown number of babies,...”

Next she will become addicted to Sim cat nip :P

...And then she’ll be in and out of rehab for the rest of her life. Such a sad, sad tale of woe. :)

lisac-h replied to your photo “Aaron rolled up a want for that “I was abducted by aliens”...”

Mark Twain saw Worf and said, "Werewolf!"

He did, didn’t he? HAH! :D God, it’s been forever since I’ve watched TNG. It’s not my favorite of the shows, but I should give it a rewatch one of these days...

eulaliasims replied to your post “Oh, God, it’s the 10 questions meme again!”

I would add an evil laughter gif here, but Tumblr won't let me, so you'll have to imagine it. :P Yeah, it can be surprisingly hard to find historical fiction that isn't focused on romance sometimes. I don't mind some, but when it seems to take over the rest of the story... meh. That's what I read fanfic for. And now I have the Ride of the Valkyries in my head too, but at least it's not Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer again.

It’s not that I can’t deal with ANY romance in historical fiction. I can if it makes sense within the story and the real history because, hey, these were real people and they fell in love and had relationships and all that. One of my favorite books (The Sunne in Splendour, by Sharon Kay Penman) is about Richard III, and a chunk of the 1000-page plot is about the relationship between him and his eventual wife and what impact that had on him as a person which in turn affected what kind of king he was, and that’s all good. But then there are those that are set in, say, Henry VIII’s court and it’s all thinly-veiled trashy romance novel tripe. (Yes, Philippa Gregory, I’m looking at you.) If I want that, I’ll sit and watch The Tudors, for God’s sake because ooh! Really hot men, gayness, AND boobies, yay! :) I’d rather read about about how that court really was. I mean, it was intriguing enough without having to pruriently sex it up. :p 

Geez, this is my “ragging on popular books” post, apparently. :) And you’re welcome for Ride of the Valkyries. *evil* It is now, thankfully out of my head.

mustluvcatz-reloaded replied to your post “Oh, God, it’s the 10 questions meme again!”

I'm half tempted to answer your questions just because they're so NOT about the sims, but I may be too lazy to right now, lol.

You should do it! I want to know what brand of TP you use! :)

acquiresimoleons replied to your photo “Aaron got his wish to grow up, ‘cuz, y’know, it’s not like it’s...”

I never could work out how to make a restaurant run properly either.

The “secret” is to run them with as few employees as possible. Especially at first. Because they will suck out all the money you make and more. So, you either have to have the owner do all the functions (Host(ess), cook, waitstaff) -- which you can do at first because you won’t have a lot of customers until the place levels up to at least Level 3 -- OR you have to use slave labor family members to fill the roles. 

Also, having a limited menu of items that don’t require a lot of cooking skill is necessary, unless/until your cook levels up. Otherwise customers will end up with a lot of burnt meals, which lowers loyalty and makes it harder to get stars and level-ups and all that.

acquiresimoleons replied to your photo “And Owen, Arcadia’s other alien sprog, grew up, too. He looks like a...”

His face kinda scares me ��

It’s the eyes. They’re creepy. But it’s what the PT who spawned him has, so...

sim-boo replied to your photo “Simon being macho… …and, afterwards, not so macho. :) And that’s it...”

R u saying bubble baths arent macho?

Well, anything that a macho man does becomes macho, right? :) But, traditionally? Not so much, no. :)

didilysims replied to your photoset “Simon taught Suzy to roll over….and then cleaned up an ocean of dog...”

Wow, that's more pee than I'd think would fit inside that little dog!

*laugh* Well, it is two dogs’ worth of pee. :) And one of them is a big dog. They just both chose the same pee spot. Right by the front door, of course. *eye roll*

pensblr replied to your photo “Nekkid treadmilling. Saves on laundry.”

*laughs* Just imagine how unfortunate it would be if sims experienced the real life pain of falling on a treadmill...while naked.

I know! I have visions of dangly bits caught in the mechanism, and OW! :) That’s totally a bad kind of ow, too.

mrningbrd replied to your photo “Oh, Benny. Benny, Benny, Benny… Of course, it happened right after...”

tell simon i can relate. this happened the other night at 4 am. my condolences

Oh, God, you poor thing. My dogs at home in Colorado are constantly having skunk encounters lately, apparently. (I’m not there, at the moment, but the ranch hands report in regularly. :) ) It didn’t used to be so bad, but apparently there’s a skunk population explosion in the nearby area...

Chill Day

'Shhch'

'Shhch'

'Shhch'

'Shhchhh'

The sound of the marker against paper.

Of blue and purple swirls and flowers and rainbows and whatever the heck Prince was drawing.

He stayed silent, just watching...or well, trying to.

He really should have gotten more sleep, especially since he knew today was Tuesday.

'Shhch'

'Shhch'

'Shhch'

'Shhchhh'

Every Tuesday, Roman would come out into the commons and Art, either he painted something or drew, or sketched.

"Anything to get those creative juices flowing", he said.

Anxiety couldn't quite care less really, but somehow or another, this became their thing.

----

🎶"When I was a young boy-🎶

The dark persona was relaxing in the commons, not too unusual but not too common either.

Thomas was feeling pretty good today, so Anxiety feeling rather "chill" as he put it.

With the week's video already posted and his host taking a well deserved nap, the younger trait found it to be a pretty "chill day" indeed, not that he'd say that out loud.

So here he was lounging on the couch, listening to MCR.

🎶"My father-🎶

Prince came in, with a mat, colored markers, paper, pencils, stencils and all.

He moved the coffee table, the one that Logan had insisted be in the middle of the  room, to the far right, placed the mat down and flopped onto it, pencil in his left hand, scratching away.

Anxiety frowned, couldn't he enjoy his peace and music alone?

Sure he could do that in his room, but that was besides the point.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? I'm sketching something so I can color it later-"

"I get that but why-?"

"Why not?", smirked the Prince.

Anxiety glared at him.

"I meant, why here?"

"Because I want to-"

"Why not on the coffee table?-"

"If I mess it up with a small smudge of marker Logic will kill me-"

"True, then why not on the table?"

"I don't want to bend, strains my neck-"

"So you're doing it the lazy way?", now Anxiety was smirking.

"It's not lazy-"

"You're flat on your stomach, on a plush mat and barely scrawl in anything resembling a background"

Roman blushed.

"Fine, it's the lazy way, but it's relaxing,  so leave me be-"

"Then why didn't you do this in your room?"

"Why aren't you in your room?", shot back the royal.

"Fair enough", the younger persona shrugged and went back to lounging on the couch.

Prince continued his drawing.

-----

'Schch'

'Schch'

'Schchhh'

One of his earbuds had fallen out and the simple sound of the pencil scratching on paper filled his ears.

His MCR playlist had just finished, there were only so much songs a deceas-split up band had after all.

Apparently Roman's drawing was abstract, lots of lines and patterns, it looked rather interesting, but it would probably look better colored.

So there he was, silently watching the other's Arting process.

The entire room was silent, with the exception of the paper and pencil of course, he had expected Princey to hum or something, but no, just quiet, it was...actually quite peaceful.

So he watched.

The movement of the pencil.

'Schch'

'Schch'

'Schch'

The stretches, curves and curls of the lines.

'Schch'

'Schch'

'Schchhh'

The colors as they slowly filled the page, when Roman finally colored them in, bringing his design to life.

'Shhch'

'Shhch'

'Shhch'

'Shhchhh'

It left him in a daze.

----

"How does it look?"

Anxiety blinked, Prince was now holding up his finished artwork, loud, bright and vibrant lines, it was rather beautiful.

"Nice"

Prince beamed at the compliment.

And so it began.

Every Tuesday was art day, Roman drawing or painting on occasion and Anxiety simply watching.

------

Every Tuesday, without missing a beat, he watched, today...he was falling asleep. These sessions always made him feel relaxed, but geez, he was full-fledged drifting off.

'Shhch'

'Shhch'

'Shhchhh'

For each stroke of the purple marker, Anxiety's eyes drooped lower.

'Shhch'

Lower.

'Shhch'

Lower.

'Shhch'

Lower.

'Shhchhh'

Really he was gone already, just the small gap to cover the whites of his eyes were left. Titering on the balance of sleep-and-wake.

Breathing slow and lips already parted. All that was left, was for him to fall...

Logic walked in at that exact moment.

"Anxiety", he whispered.

The younger jumped, blinking rapidly as his vision became clear.

The Teacher carefully pulled Anxiety to the kitchen, silently as to not disturb the artist on the floor.

"Are alright? Are you getting ill?"

"What? No, I'm fine!"

"Are you sure?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Grumbled the younger. Pulling him out of his almost sleep state, really wasn't helping his mood.

"I mean, sometimes I see you lying on the couch in a complete daze"

Anxiety blushed.

"It's just...relaxing I guess"

Logic paused.

"What is relaxing?"

"Watching the Royal pain draw and stuff"

"Hmm"

"What?"

"I don't think that watching Prince draw is what leaves you in a daze-"

Anxiety raised a brow.

"Logan, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you enjoy the sound of pencil, or in this case marker,  scratching on paper, it's quite interesting really, but it does make make sense you'd follow the Autonomous sensory meridian response"

"I- what?"

"Asmr"

"Wait, wait, isn't that, just a bunch suggestive whispering, lip smacking and roleplay videos?"

Logic rolled his eyes.

"While some videos do include such things, not all of them do, there can be no whispering and just the sound of something constant-"

"Like?"

"Like the sound of a marker on a paper", this time the younger rolled his eyes. Logic smirked, "there's also hairplay"

Instantly pink flushed on pale cheeks, pink bright enough to show through all that white foundation.

The Teacher chuckled, ruffling Anxiety's already mussed up hair.

Of course the younger pouted and batted away the offending hand.

"Is it bad?"

"Asmr? No, not necessarily, paper and markers are harmless, personally I enjoy pen on paper and chalk on a board, Morality enjoys the sounds of paint and slime, though I'm not sure what Roman prefers"

They shrugged.

Logic went to his room and Anxiety moved back to the couch.

----

When Morality came in an hour later, he smiled.

Roman had just finished his artwork and wasted no time in showing him. Being the proud father he was, he couldn't stop his instincts to put the peice on a frame and hang it up.

The Prince beamed.

Chuckling he patted the young regal's shoulder, and then quietly retrieved a blanket and placed it on the sleeping Anxiety.

-----

Bonus:

\Hey Thomas\

"Oh hey Joan, what's up?"

\Nothing much, Talyn and I were just takling, you up for a road trip?\

"Now?"

\Yeah\

"Sure"

\Really? Someone's feeling good today\

"Yeah I am"

Joan chuckled.

\Alright, we'll pick you up in ten minutes\

Thomas agreed, hanging up the phone, he went to get ready.

He was all set when the sound of a horn reached his ears.

Smiling he grabbed his keys, locked the door and jumped into the car with his awesome friends.

Yeah, today was a chill day.

----

9am let’s tag: @prinxietys @prinxietyhell @the-prince-and-the-emo @anxietyismycuppatea @anxietyandlogic @thebrightsun @the-sanders-sides

if y’all would like to be tagged tell me, i’ll be happy to oblige ;)

 AN:// Sorry I haven't posted anything sooner, I've been sick, still am actually, I legit couldn't move on Monday. Tuesday I found out what Asmr was, yes, yes I'm very late to that but life. My little cousin loves to draw, markers and paper galore. Basically she was Prince and I was Anxiety and my best friend, who came to visit my sick behind was the one who told me about Asmr, so she was Logic XD. Anyway, I'm currently working on another drabble chap, it's a comfort piece for a really sweet peep that needs it and also the new chap for Innerworks, I'm dying here and I wanna sleep, but like, fanfiction lol.

I know a lot of you write fan-fiction, and I always feel guilty about not reading it. I hope that none of you take it personally when I don’t comment on you undoubtedly wonderful writing. It’s just....I don’t read fan-fiction.

I mean, I have, but maybe once or twice a year. Once in a very long while I get in a mood and wade through oceans fanfics,  but it’s a bit exahusting to face. i just don’t have time for reading, as the stacks of books around me attest.

By the way, don’t at all mind fan-fiction about characters or ships or even fandoms that aren’t my thing. I once got reading a Doctor Who one that the idea of the ship had me going, “Uh, no. Just no!” and yet it turned out to be a beautifully written work I thoroughly enjoyed. It really is the volume of writing and my way too limited time.

If I had had the internet when I was very young I probably would have written the stuff. I’ve always filled my head with stories about favorite characters or fictional universes, I just almost never wrote any of it down (outside fragments in my journal).

Exception one was when I was little and saw The Empire Strikes Back for the first time. It would be years before the next movie and it ended with Han frozen in a block of carbonite. Years! It was like forever! I’d be so OLD, like almost a teenager, by then! So when I got home I stapled a bunch of sheets of paper together, climbed into bed for the night, and started writing what happened next. Unfortunately it was after 10pm and I was in my single digits,  so I fell asleep pretty quickly after the first page. Other than I was having Leia save him (of course!) I can’t remember what I was planning.

The other case was a few years later when the killed Adric on Doctor Who. I liked Adric (yes, me and three others LOL) and it upset me enough I had to find a way to save him. I came up with a story that soon consumed my attention. Quickly I started questioning what the heck I was doing. I was using characters that belonged to someone else! I could put all this effort into it but never share it with anyone, not having the internet or an awareness of fanzines at that age. Plus one of the characters was clearly based on me, and that was embarrassing beyond belief. So I reworked it, completely enough no one would see the source probably. And to be honest, it was a much better story for it, the characters far richer for not being bound to the prexisting history. I spent years into high school mucking with it, filling notebooks with not just story but sketches of locations, costumes and maps....

You know, I really should go back and do something with it.....

Until I moved my stuff with the floor collapse, I didn’t even remember I had written any of the Doctor Who version of the story. It turned out I’d written a heck of a lot. I was afraid I’d cringe in horror to read it but actually...it was kind of good! In fact, some of it was wonderful and I’d done an amazing job capturing the character voices. I think it’s the only time in my life I’ve looked at something I’ve written and thought it was any good! LOL

So, if the internet as we know it existed when I was young enough I’d be writing it too. Or if I could do without pesky things like sleep.

But all of you posting your writing, I love seeing that it’s up somewhere.I sometimes open it in a tab and leave it for weeks meaning to get to it. Maybe one day I will actually get a chance to read some and finally get to gush. Until then I’ll just feel really apologetic and guilty! LOL

The Day We Met || Zachlan

Takes place on 11/6. Finallyee.

Zach had been crazy excited about starting at Degrassi. First of all his favorite cousin was in some of his classes, but mostly he was excited to finally get to meet Declan. He had gotten to the class a little early as Simpson had been showing him around and wanted to introduce him to Lacey. After talking for a bit she had him sit in a seat in the back corner as it was the only unassigned one. Sliding into the seat, he looked around for a bit before taking out his sketchbook and opening it up to a new page. Biting his lip, he put his hood up, hoping people wouldn't bother him as they started to fill into the classroom, before he started to draw.

Declan walked into English class, already fussing with some of his friends. "That's so stupid! I think Brennan just acts like an asshole because he's an asshole, not because he's gay." Declan rolled his eyes, "He's doing...stuff...with your sister. I mean...he could be bi...but, I totally don't get that kind of rage from him. This is like....typical jock rage...I don't know. Don't ask me. Why am I supposed to have awesome gaydar? I have a girlfriend." He sat his stuff down at his table and sat down, looking up at the board as Lacey wrote "THE GREAT GATSBY" up on the board. He sighed, opening up the book he kept his lyrics and melodies in, staring at lyrics he'd scribbled down after texting Zach the other night. All the line said was "Take a selfie for me..." Why couldn't he get anything else out of that? Why did that line sound so cheesy? The boy closed the book and then let his head come to rest on top of his folded arms on the desk.

Zach glanced up when he heard a slight commotion of people entering the room, his eyes immediately falling on Declan. Unable to keep from grinning, he pushed his sketchbook to the corner of his desk and turned his attention to the boy, unable to look away. He was somehow cuter in person and he didn't think that could be possible. Gavin shook his head at Declan. "First of all don't say that that's gross. Second of all my gaydar is perfect and you need to agree with me because of that..." He was about to continue when his eyes fell on Zach in the back of the room. Who was this kid and why was he staring at his best friend? "Third... there's some kid in the seat that Lacey makes me sit in after I do something awesome she doesn't agree with... and he's staring at you... wait! THERE'S SOMEONE IN MY SEAT SHE CAN'T MOVE ME! But also why is that guy staring at you. Staring at you is my job. Should I fight him?"

Declan looked up at the sound of Gavin yelling. He looked up in just enough time to see Lacey whirl around, the dry erase marker still in her hand. "Do you wanna bet? I'll call another teacher to bring me a desk. Sit down, Gavin." She huffed. Declan chuckled under his breath, about to put his head back down when Gavin mentioned some guy staring at him. What? Why would some guy stare at him...well, other than Gavin. Declan turned all the way around in his seat to face the seat that Chloe had recently dubbed 'Azkaban'. He could've sworn his heart stopped beating in his chest. He took a hard swallow. No way this was real. He had to be seeing things. He blinked a few times, as if this would change anything. Zach was here, in his class, in person. This was very, very real and he couldn't breathe. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he took a long sigh and then smiled at him awkwardly, not sure of what else to do. "Hey..." he finally mouthed. He would've sat there, just staring at the other boy until he heard Lacey call his name. "Dec, turn around for me." she said, "We're about to get started." He whirled around in his seat, "Yeah, uh, I'm sorry." He said. He quickly dug down in his pocket to withdraw his phone, hissing in pain from his hand being shoved into his jeans, grazing the cut on his palm. He pulled his phone out and hid it under the table before quickly texting Zach. "Oh my god, what are you doing here? How? When? Why? I'm sorry I'm so awkward, I'm about two seconds from an asthma attack."

Zach couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at the boy being told off. He wasn't surprised at all when Lacey eventually called him Gavin. He perfectly fit Declan's stories of him. Gavin huffed, sliding off of his desk and into his chair. "But where are you going to put another desk," He shot back mostly to himself. Zach kept his eyes on Declan, his smile growing when the boy turned around to look at him. The smile quickly faded into a smirk at Declan's reaction, loving how nervous he seemed to have made the boy. "Hey," He mouthed back. He frowned slightly when the boy turned back around and immediately reached for his phone. "I told you I got kicked out of my school... I had to be sent somewhere... surprise!"

Declan looked around to make sure no one was looking before texting back, "I know! I just never imagined here! Wow...you're like...real...here and in person...and not just the homescreen on my phone." He sent it and then typed back quickly, "I'm sorry. That's weird, I guess. I promise, I'm not a stalker. I'm just really nervous and literally saying everything that comes to mind. I'm so sorry." Declan couldn't help himself. He had to keep peering over his shoulder to keep looking at him. He was beautiful...even more so in person, and on top of that...he was here. He was here, and he didn't even have to wait until Christmas.

Declan turned back around just in time for Lacey to stand up from behind her desk. "Okay, guys, we have a new student joining us...his name is Zach James...let

Declan let's make him feel welcome...and not in the way that you guys welcome me into class everyday." She chuckled, "Zach, come up here and tell us a bit about yourself."

Zach 's smile kept growing as he read the texts popping up on his phone. "Lol you're fine don't apologize," he sent back. When Declan looked back at him, he smiled at the boy again. "But yeah I'm here now... permanently." He was waiting for a reply when he heard his name. Head shooting up, he shoved his phone into his pocket and slid his hood off his head, running his fingers through his hair quickly to fix it. "Uhm hey," He said, hoping that would be it. He furrowed his brow as he watched some of Declan's friends clapping obnoxiously and shook his head. Sighing when she asked him to come up, he pushed himself onto his feet and slowly made his way to the front of the classroom. "Uhm, I'm Zach... I'm actually Cassie's cousin so that's why we have the same last name," he pointed to his cousin in the room and gave her a little wave. "I'm from Australia which is why I sound like this... This is my ninth school in the past 3 years. I was kicked out of the other eight so that's a fun fact." He let his eyes fall on Declan for a moment and smiled, making sure not to make it obvious to everyone else, but also making it obvious to him that the next part was directed towards him. "But yeah, I'm excited to be here and don't plan on getting kicked out of this one." He nodded to himself, before turning to Lacey. "Well that was sufficiently awkward, can I go sit down?"

Declan watched as he got up, watching his every move and ignoring the random comments that came from Gavin across the table. As soon as the boy said hey, and he could fully hear his accent, Declan actually swooned. He then caught himself, though. That has never happened before. He looked around, looking to see if anyone else noticed it before turning his attention back to Zach. He listened to his whole speech and then smiled. Lacey looked at him, "That was great, Zach. Totally, you can go sit down now." Declan then watched him walk back to his seat and sit down before pulling his phone out again. "I'm so glad you're here, and I can't wait to actually hang out with you!" he said. He waited a moment before texting again, "I've needed to kiss you for a while now." He blushed at his own words and then sent the text.

Zach put his hood back up before making his way back to his seat. He made a point of passing Cassie's desk, flicking her shoulder with an innocent grin before sitting back down. He didn't waste any time pulling his phone back out. He smirked bigger than he had before at Declan's text, glancing up at him for a moment before replying. "...you should meet me in the bathroom after this class ;)" he sent back.

Declan blushed even harder at Zach's reply. It took him a moment to realize exactly what the boy had said, but when he did, that's when he started internally screaming. Was he really about to go makeout with a boy in the bathroom? This was so unlike him, but he wanted to so badly. All he could think about over the last few days was what it would be like to feel the other boys lips on his. He bit his lip before texting back, "Okay!" with a blushy and smiley face emoji. Suddenly, that's when Declan became fixated on the clock. It seemed to be moving too slowly, and the sound of Chloe and Gavin kicking and nudging each other under the desk was just seeming to make it drag on longer. "I need class to end right now." Declan sent to Zach, ending the message with a laughing emoji.

Zach grinned at Declan's reply. There had been a part of him that was afraid when he got there Declan wouldn't actually want anything to do with him but that proved otherwise. When the boy stopped texting, he put his phone back into his pocket and turned to a new page in his sketchbook, starting on a sketch of Declan, looking up at him often. When his phone vibrated again, he read the text, laughing to himself. "Same. Maybe we could just leave."

Declan read the text with a grin, "That'd look too suspicious...maybe time will just pass quicker. In the mean time, write up an 'Out of Order' sign for the bathroom! lol." He sent the text before before glancing back over his shoulder, taking in the boy's focus as he drew, biting his lip. He then turned and opened up his notebook again. "Can you take a selfie for me? Post it up real sexy for me." He scratched the line out. That was entirely too much...even if it were pretty true.

Zach chuckled and sent him a thumbs up emoji before putting his phone back into his pocket and going back to his drawing. He was so into what he was doing, he didn't even notice Declan looking back at him. When the bell finally rang, he quickly shoved his stuff into his backpack and made a beeline out of the room and to the nearest bathroom. He made sure it was empty, before jumping up onto the sink to wait for Declan. When some random guy came in, he quickly shook his head. "Someone took a nasty poop in there, I would go to another bathroom," He laughed, smirking when the other guy walked out.

Declan watched as Zach ran ahead once the bell rang. He chuckled under his breath before turning back to Gavin and the rest of the group. "Hey, I'm gonna...go pee and then I'll catch up with you guys!" He then calmly walked out until they couldn't see him until he ran into the nearest bathroom. As soon as he got in, he smiled seeing Zach perched up on the sink. "Hey..." he smiled brightly, shifting his bookbag off in a way to avoid it coming in contact with the bandages on his hands. He dropped it into the floor before kicking down the doorstop on the inside of the door. "Oh wait, hang on." He stepped into one of the stalls and grabbed the maintenance sign that was left behind from a previous cleaning and stuck it outside before shutting the door, putting the stopper down to make opening the door that much harder. "Jackpot." he chuckled stepping up closer to Zach. "So..."

Zach looked up when the door opened again, expecting to have to tell some other guy a lame reason he needed to leave. However when he saw it was Declan he grinned and pushed his hood back down. He watched as he put up the sign and laughed. "I was just gonna lean against the door so nobody could come in but that makes more sense," he laughed. He didn't jump down from the sink though, biting his lip when Declan walked towards him. "So..." he repeated, looking at the other boy.

Declan smiled, walking up closer to the boy. He awkwardly fumbled with his hands, wringing them together, unsure of what to do with them. Shit. Why were they stinging so badly? Oh yeah, they were cut open and sweat was now rolling into the wound. He clenched and unclenched his hands a few times before stepping in closer until he was almost completely settled between the other boy's legs. "I kind of think we owe each other a kiss..." he said quietly, nerves getting the best of him. He'd never kissed anyone before...not even Gavin, shockingly. He ran his tongue across his lips, praying they weren't chapped or broken from gnawing on them as much as he frequently did.

Zach kept his eyes on Declan's unable to keep from smiling at his nervous the other boy seemed. When he stepped closer, he let his hands move to rest on the boy's sides. "Well we have been talking about that," he agreed. As cool as he tried to come off, he was pretty nervous as well as he had never kissed anyone either. His eyes flicking downward when Declan licked his lips, he instinctively did the same before moving one of his hands up to cup the side of Declan's face. At the same time as he was doing that, he ducked down and pressed his lips to Declan's, kissing him softly.

Declan took another hard swallow as Zach's hand came up to rest on his face. As soon as his lips were on his, Declan practically melted into his touch, leaning against him more, putting his hand down on his leg. He sighed into the kiss before letting it break, already wanting to reconnect his lips with the other boy's. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt light, unable to stop smiling. The crush was real and it was solid now, and he was so beyond gone. "Woah...that was...way better than anything I've imagined...you're better than what I imagined. Pictures don't give you enough justice. You're actually perfect." he smiled.

Zach grinned bigger than he ever had when the kiss broke. He let his thumb stroke Declan's cheek for a moment before dropping his hand. "Id say that was a pretty great first kiss," he smiled. Chuckling, he shook his head. "Who are you to call anyone else perfect?"

Declan nodded in agreement, closing his eyes as he felt Zach's thumb caressing his cheek. "Yeah, it was...so good." he smiled, opening his eyes again to look at the boy. At his compliment, he blushed, smiling widely. "I'm not perfect, but thank you." He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before letting his head come to rest on his chest gently, his forehead resting against the spot gently. One kiss, and Declan was totally ready to just cuddle up with him forever,

Zach smiled softly at the reddening of Declan's face. "You are though. Don't fight me on it you'll lose," he laughed. Grinning when the other teen kissed his cheek, he moved his hand back to his waist. "Oh hi," he whispered, letting Declan lean against him before kissing the top of his head. "I know I'm not supposed to skip anymore but can't we just skip the rest of the day?"

Declan smiled as his hand came down to his waist and he pressed a kiss to his head. "I wonder if I'd get in any trouble, because I really want to. I want to find a place and just kiss you and lay around with you." he said, "I actually cannot believe you're here. It should totally be an excused skip for that." He chuckled, sitting up to lean in and steal a kiss.

Zach laughed. "You probably wouldn't but I would. They're like watching me or something because of my record," he sighed. "And I really don't wanna get kicked out of this school too. But I would take the kissing and laying around if I could." He grinned when Declan kissed him again. He went to reach down to take his hand, frowning when he saw the bandages. "You didn't tell me you hurt yourself. What happened?"

Declan nodded understandably. "I don't want you getting kicked out either. I just got you here with me. At another school, you could find a cuter guy." He chuckled, "Well, maybe this weekend we could do the whole kissing and laying around thing. You could come over." He smiled, but his smile faded once Zach went to take his hands. He flipped them upwards, where the bandage was already getting dirty and worn from the wear and tear of the day. "My friends and I made a blood pact Friday night." he said, "Like...we all ended up holding hands in a circle with our hands bleeding into each others. It sounds gross and it sounds like a cult but I swear it's not. Now, we'll all have matching scars too."

Zach shook his head quickly. "There are no cuter guys," he promised. At Declan's suggestion he quickly nodded. "I would say you could come to my place but my cousins are all there and I'm not sure how well that would keep it a secret," he said before frowning. "Wait the weekend is so far away..." looking at The boys hands, he raised his eyebrow at the story. "It does sound gross," he laughed. "And very cult like." Despite his words he carefully lifted Declan's hands one by one and kissed each, being careful not to actually hurt him.

Declan smiled when he accepted the invitation to hang out. "Oh, true...we'd be way safer as far as that goes at my place." he said. When the boy frowned, his whole face fell as well, instantly feeling bad for the boy's face falling so fast. He stood up on his tip toes again and leaned in, pressing a comforting kiss to his cheek. "I know. It sucks. My mom probably wouldn't care if you came over earlier. You can come over tonight or tomorrow, if you want. I was just thinking of the weekend, because we wouldn't have to get up and go to school the next morning." He said. "But either...or better yet, both...work for me." He smiled. Declan smiled at the boy's comments, but his heart practically melted and a sigh escaped him audibly as he brought both hands up and kissed the spots on his palms. "You're....amazing....I don't know what I did to deserve this honestly, but I'm not complaining." He chuckled, leaning in to steal another kiss.

Zach pretended to think about it for a moment before laughing. "Both. Definitely both," he finally said with a grin. "But I'll keep being sad if it means more kisses." Smiling softly, he shook his head. "I'm nothing special," he whispered back, smiling into the kiss. "I don't mean for this to come off rude because I love it. But you're so tiny," he laughed. "It's cute."

Declan smiled, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, both sounds good. Both sounds really good.” He laughed softly. When he mentioned being sad to get kisses, Declan frowned, “I’d rather see you smile, though. You have a really great smile. I kinda hope I can keep it on your face more often.” The boy scrunched his face up at the compliment, blushing bright red before hiding his face in Zach’s chest again. “Ahhh, stop. Being tiny isn’t cute. I get picked on for being small.” He sat back up, “plus, it’s because I was premature. My mom did drugs while she was pregnant. Now, I’m super tiny.” He smiled, “I’m glad you think it’s cute, though.”

Zach let his finger absently trace over Declan's side, looking down at the boy as he spoke. Without second thought at the mention of his smile he pulled a goofy grin before laughing. "You can't tell me that's nice," he teased. He couldn't help but frown as Declan spoke, wishing he didn't have to deal with a mom like that. "Its cute because it's you. Plus I can put you in my pocket and that sounds nice," he smirked. "I'm kind of tall though for our age so it makes you smaller."

Declan chuckled at the boys response before reaching up to poke him in the cheek. “You’re a dork.” He smiled, leaning in again to kiss his cheek right where he poked it. He sighed as Zach spoke, feeling completely at ease for the first time in a while. “As long as you don’t use me as an arm rest like Gavin.” He grinned, “I like height difference. It’s cute. Chloe and Gavin’s is cute and so is Regina and Corbin’s. Ours is too.” He smiled before leaning in to kiss the other boy again. The kiss was slow and soft and it made the shaky feelings in his hands go away. He then reached up and cupped the boys face in his hands to bring him closer.

Zach grinned at the comment, the grin growing when Declan kissed his cheek. "No armrest you're just gonna go into my pocket," he said again with a laugh. He wanted to make another comment but he was silenced by Declan's lips. Kissing back just as softly, he somehow pulled the boy closer, his hands moving to the small of his back.

Declan sighed against Zach’s lips as he was pulled in closer. He wrapped his arms around his neck and let his chest gently collide with Zach’s. Declan kept kissing him until he felt like he needed to finally take a breath. He pulled back, breathing a little harder than before, but with a soft blush on his cheeks and a shy smile on his face. “I don’t know how I’m going to be able to go to class. I just want to stay here kissing you.” He smiled. Immediately after speaking, the bell rang, and Declan let out a disappointed sigh.

Zach smiled when Declan pulled back, resisting the urge to just pull him in for another kiss. "Class is stupid," He said even though he knew he couldn't skip any of them. "Kissing you should be a class..." When the bell rang, he frowned, reaching over to run his fingers through Declan's hair. "...we can just meet back here during lunch?" He offered with an innocent smile.

Declan chuckled, “um, you’d get an A, so...” He smiled contently as the boy ran his fingers through his hair and then nodded. “Yeah, id like that a lot.” He then scooted back and grabbed his backpack, putting it on his back before turning back to Zach. “Bye...” he smiled and then leaned in and kissed his cheek gently.

Zach chuckled. "My first A," He hummed, sliding off the sink and putting his bag on his shoulders. "Bye," He repeated, grinning when Declan kissed his cheek. He was about to let the boy walk out first before shaking his head. "Wait!" He said, grabbing Declan's wrist. In one motion, he slid the leather braided cord bracelet he was wearing off his wrist and onto Declan's, being careful of the bandage on his hand. "There."

Declan had started walking to the door when Zach stopped him. “Huh?” He questioned before turning around. Zach had grabbed his wrist and Declan watched closesly as he slid the cord bracelet onto his wrist. His whole face lit up and he tried to keep from looking too weirdly smiley, but he couldn’t help it. It was impossible for him not to smile in his presence. “Thanks...” He grinned, “So...after school at my place, right?”

Zach looked at the bracelet and smiled. "It looks better on you than me," He said simply. He let his fingers linger a moment longer than they had to before dropping his hand. "Yeah," He smiled. "Just text me your address."

I’ve been wanting to get started on the second northern goshawk in my series. It’s amazing how many things suddenly just absolutely have to get done when I decide to get started on a project.

Procrastination?

We have some frigid air moving in for the weekend, so I needed to put extra bedding out for the dog.

Warmth for me too

Also wanted to bring in some extra firewood so at least tomorrow’s wood is sort-of dry when I wake up. The rick of wood is fairly green and the older wood in the pile is fairly wet. LOL, I can’t win either way with that. But, at least what’s inside the house will be a little drier by morning than it was this morning when I brought it in.

Put up the water

So after taking care of the cold weather outdoor stuff, I thought I’d better fill some containers in case the water freezes. I don’t want to have to move the horses to the other field if their water bucket line freezes. Because that would mean I also will have to move hay in the frigid temperatures. I’d rather just haul the water to their bucket if that happens.

Market display

Then I remembered I’d bought some peg board to make a vertical display space for my market booth. Before I could work on that it would need to be painted. So I painted the board and left it outside to dry. Except it didn’t. It was too cold for it to dry well and even after several hours had passed it was still tacky. So I brought it in to put in a warmer spot.

Check the mail

Just before noon I remembered a letter I needed to bring down to the mailbox, so took care of that, And when I got back up to the house, figured I’d better put the car in the shop in case we really do get some of that giant hail I heard mentioned in the forecast. Well guess what? Now it’s coffee time. I completely missed lunch and so just let that go. Once I had my coffee I finished the vertical display space. Then, once that was done I did-finally-get started on my goshawk.

Yep. Procrastination.

It was all just procrastination. Though all of those things did need to be done today, I could have started the goshawk and done those things while stepping back from it. I step away from it almost every time I do anything significant to the painting.

Here’s where I stopped on it today:

The eye is not finished. It’s just ‘good enough’ to hold the rest of the painting together while I go forward. I can’t do the bird until the eye is good enough.

The northern goshawk (accipiter gentilis) isn’t commonly found in the Ozarks. Sometimes one might get blown off-course during migration, though. It is one of the raptors favored by falconers and I find them to be beautiful birds of prey.

Some Changes

I did a few things differently on this painting. Each new painting is somewhat of an experiment with me, but there were some things I wanted to intentionally do differently this time.

Drawing lines

On the previous goshawk I had a really difficult time getting the angles right. So this time, on the photograph I printed out to work from, I drew lines with my ruler. These lines show me where the various parts of the bird line up in comparison to each other. I think that helped a lot.

Better paper

Another difference is that I’m painting this northern goshawk on a much higher quality paper. This time I have #300 (640 gsm) Arches paper and it is definitely a huge improvement. As it very well should be, because it was a lot more expensive. The pricey paper added to my reluctance to get started, I think. I’m afraid to ruin a sheet on a wasted effort. On the other hand, I couldn’t wait to try it out.

Finer pigments

The last difference is in the pigments I used for the background. I used some of the fine powders I’d processed and it gives a much bolder, color-drenched effect. I like it. But the particular shade I used is much more inclined to stain the paper. So the areas I need to be white later are going to be harder to produce. But that’s one of the sweet things about this paper. I can lift on it a lot more often than I could on the previous paper. Lifting is when you take color off the page with a damp brush by touching the spot and then rinse and wipe the brush-repeated until it’s white. Or in this case, white enough. I’ll never get the stain completely off. To get whiter spots on the bird later I’ll have to use some of my limestone paint.

Photographer

For this painting, I’m using a photograph of a wild northern goshawk by @javiersanzfoto (Javier Sanz at Instagram).

Progression

Here’s the progression from start to current. As I can I’ll update the photo collection to bring it up to date. If you want to see it as I post them, follow me at Instagram (@wildozark).

Sprinkling on the pigments to rub for the background on my northern goshawk painting.

Pigment rubbed, hills taking shape. Goshawk no. 2 is soon to appear!

The sketch of the bird is in the wrong place on the paper.

Moved the outline to a better position. Still looks terrible at this point, though!

The eye is not finished. It’s just ‘good enough’ to hold the rest of the painting together while I go forward. I can’t do the bird until the eye is good enough.

The assortment of colors at hand. I won’t be using all of these.

Let’s hope I don’t ruin the pricey sheet of paper!

  Goshawk no. 2 – Next in a series of northern goshawk paintings I've been wanting to get started on the second northern goshawk in my series. It's amazing how many things suddenly just absolutely have to get done when I decide to get started on a project.

Process and wip images for A House That Holds Long Limbs

You can read the pages for part 1 here (full complete version will be linked from YYH North Bound master post whenever it’s done.)

Every so often I get questions about how I work, and I also enjoy reading about how other creators make things, so perhaps this might be interesting and useful to somebody out there too. I’ve talked about my process before but never really documented and shared it WHILE working on a project, so here you can see some of my thinking and decision-making (and poor habits lol) a bit more immediately, alongside screenshots, photos and scans.

Very long, everything is below the cut, and apologies to people on mobile and anywhere else this goofs up.

One question I get a lot is “do you start with words or pictures when creating a comic?” I jump between both a lot. That said, I tend to lean more heavily on words when documenting ideas in the early stages of a project. This is because, for me:

Words pack a lot of punch in conveying detail quickly. They work better when I need to quickly communicate something extremely specific to future me. I’m a sloppy drawer, so my sketches tend to make future me squint and go, “What the hell was this supposed to be?!”

A great deal of my thinking and planning is done during crowded commutes. It’s more convenient to jot notes on my phone than to whip out my sketchbook and a pen.

(For a while I thought it’d be awesome to have some sort of app where I can type notes AND have an accompanying thumbnail sketch, and be able to drag them around or break them out into more or fewer pages. At one point years ago I thought about creating a custom app... but ultimately too lazy/busy and my current process works well enough. If anyone wants to take this idea and run with it, please feel free to do so and just let me know about it so I can try it haha.)

I usually start with a few lines summarizing the gist of the idea, enough that’s recognizable and I don’t forget the important things to build off from. From there, I start point-form outlining the stuff that needs to happen, structuring them into key scenes/parts. These scenes are not always fleshed out in order - I just add to them whenever I have ideas for that part. 

Long Limbs, for example, had a progression like this:

Overall story idea: “horror story with rokurokubi, key plot point(s) happens, the end.” (There was a bit more detail than this, obviously, but we’re avoiding spoilers here.)

Initial description for Part 1 of the story: “Hokushin lured to go to somewhere. Separated from Raizen. HOW??????”

After letting it simmer for while, a solution: “Hokushin annoyed at Raizen. Opportunity for him to get away and go do his own thing.”

Gradually more detail: “Stranger invites him to go to this place to look into something/maybe has a paid job that needs to be done and Raizen is busy goofing off or whatever.”

Problem. I couldn’t resolve this chain of thought to my satisfaction. What kind of task/job can someone convince Hokushin to do on his own when he doesn’t know this person/it seems questionable? And how long will the conversation need to run to establish this as believable?

This was starting to get convoluted and I was getting annoyed because it was turning into a burden in being able to continue the story AND IT WASN’T EVEN THAT IMPORTANT. I decided to abandon this path of thinking, and left the entire story for a while.

Much later (like months?), I had an idea: “Mysterious person drops something, piques Hokushin’s curiosity.” Aha! Hokushin’s own initiative. Simple and plausible enough. HOORAY NO MORE THINKING. LET’S DRAW.

Then I realized, oh shoot, I need to figure out who this mysterious person is and what they dropped. More time passes. And so on… in between I’m always working on other things, so there’s no real creator’s block - at some point I start thinking about this comic again, and ideas work themselves out to some decent level of satisfaction and link together. Thanks subconscious!

Eventually, enough key scenes are fleshed out that I feel confident enough to turn this into a real thing. At present, for example, not all scenes in Long Limbs are totally worked out, but I’ve got enough that I ran ahead with Part 1.

Screenshot of the Google Docs notes/script for Part 1: 

This is a close-to-final version. The === on top is just to separate this from notes on other stories or ideas. This is the beginning of the document, but this document actually includes many other notes and stories for North Bound. I delete them as I finish and post the pages. Every so often I wonder if I should bother keeping them, but they’ve been refined throughout the process and usually don’t bear much resemblance to the original jotted notes anymore. Long Limbs was originally planned to be a later story in North Bound, but I got especially excited about it and fleshed it out further than the others. When I reviewed the earlier stories, I didn’t think there’d be a big continuity or reader experience issue if this was finished and posted first. So I moved the messy notes for this story to the top of the document. 

The page breakdown for the script is done by me generally picturing in my head how I might want the scene to go and how much action I might be able to fit on the page for good effect. I’ll sometimes start paginating without thumbnails, and sometimes will do both side by side (thumbnail and update pagination in tandem).

As you might imagine, pagination frequently changes. For example, you’ll see the script above is 9 pages instead of 10.

The original script for this section was broken up into maybe 4-6 pages, with 5-7 being more condensed.

When I started thumbnailing, I found it felt too cluttered and moved too fast.

So I stretched out the part of Hokushin and the mystery girl exchanging glances, and added pages to be able to create a (hopefully) more cinematic feel and really focus on the reason they catch each other’s eye - the bandages on their necks.

I then went back to the Google Doc and updated the script to line it up better.

I was also tweaking the dialogue at the same time and didn’t want to forget any key phrasing I liked. Dialogue is another thing I get really hung up over, often changing words up to the last second. (Sometimes this is because I messed up the size of the speech bubble, if I’m lettering on the computer...)

Thumbnails:

Pretty close to the final in this case - mainly because the sequence is pretty simple and straightforward and not many people are involved. I keep my thumbnails very crappy and rough so that I don’t get upset later when I can’t redraw something as good as the thumbnail. Bottom right was a quick attempt at designing the mystery girl.

Once I think the thumbnails are good enough - translation: I get impatient and just want to start drawing - I proceed to pencils for the actual page.

Throughout all this, I’m repeatedly reviewing script and thumbnail and playing sequences out in my head and then trying to figure out how to better direct the “camera” and the action. I may go back to the script and the thumbnails even as I’m finetuning the actual page if I encounter issues. You can see in both the script and the thumbnails that there are still deviations in the dialogue and the art from the final. Here are a few examples:

Page 3: The panels were originally 1) the setting, 2) Hokushin with his arms folded, 3) Raizen laughing, 4) we see that Hokushin is watching Raizen. After reviewing the thumbnail, I felt it’d be a better setup to flow into the scene if I switched panels 2 and 3. That’s closer to how you’d experience it in real life, or how it might be directed in a shot sequence: you enter an area/place, you hear the sound of some guy’s loud laughter filling the air, then the camera zooms up to the annoyed expression of this one particular dude and you see he’s staring at the laughing guy. Moving from bigger ambience to smaller details around the room.

Page 7: The girl was originally turning in the other direction (hard to tell because I redrew it right on top of the original sketch lol). However, this meant all the directional action would be pointing to the right - Hokushin is facing the right, and when he leaves the bar he’s angling towards the right side of the page. Facing the direction that readers will read in gives a sense of driving the action forward, while facing the opposite direction provides a bit of a mental stop. (This is something from Scott McCloud that always stuck with me.) So, I flipped the girl around.

Page 8: Script has Hokushin going “What’s this?”. When thumbnailing, I thought, “obviously it’s self-evident he’s wondering what this is when he picks it up”. It added nothing to the panel, and the speech or thought bubble would have interrupted the smooth action of him picking up the paper. So, axed.

The damn friggin’ bar and gambling: You’ll see the script mention this, and at one point I actually had the guy standing across from Raizen saying “Is this guy drunk?” I’m actually not sure if they’re in a bar or if Raizen is drinking, but neither were important to the actual story because I just needed Raizen and Hokushin to be in a place where Raizen could hang out with humans and be stupid. So I dropped these details. This is mainly because I ran into historical research problems about bars and alcohol during the Kamakura period (more on that near the end of this post), and this was the only way to stop myself from getting hung up on trying to make it “perfect” and “correct” and just get it done. 

Drawing the actual pages. This part is fun!

Inking the actual pages. THIS PART IS NOT FUN :( 

I don’t have very steady hands and I get very anxious about messing things up, so inking always takes me the longest. (I also get distracted easily, e.g., ink two lines and then surf tumblr for ten minutes lol). I’ve improved a lot since I started drawing comics much more frequently a couple years ago, and my choice of tools and style has helped a lot (I lean to variable lines and sketchy style, which is more forgiving than, say, a very precise art style with fixed-width pens) but I still get nervous at this stage.

I’m very lazy so I usually stick with one tool for inking. For Long Limbs I tried to effort more and actually used three. Right to left: Sailor fude de mannen for panel borders and text, Muji pen for artwork (0.4 because that was the only size available at the store when I went to get my refill), Pentel pocket brush for filling in blacks. I refill the fude de mannen and the pocket brush with fountain pen inks.

I usually ink panel borders first, then speech bubbles, then everything else. I hop all over the place and pages are generally in varying stages of completion. I also sometimes add in some more text lines because it seems like a good idea at the time - Hokushin’s complaint on page 3 about how he should have left Raizen when he got into a fight with a fish-seller in a previous story, for example. Sometimes these work, sometimes I regret it later and edit it on the computer.

Cover thumbnails and pencil sketch:

The one in the page thumbnails was the original idea, but then I thought, “seems kinda cliched. Can I get a more interesting angle where he’s not looking straight at the viewer?” (OK, his eyes are covered, but you know what I mean.) I quickly tried a few other angles and compositions, didn’t like them and ended up going with pretty much the original idea, but more zoomed in.

In the thumbnails, you can see all my little x’s indicating “ehhhh I don’t like this”. I wanted something with a particular mood/atmosphere especially with all the hands and arms, and I was conflicted between zooming out (for more environment and more arms, and the focus on the “long limbs” part of the title) or having a tighter, more close up shot. Ultimately I think the latter works better as it conveys a sense of claustrophobia, and it’s more intimate which supports the idea of psychological horror. ALSO IT’S SEXY (maybe???). The end.

Other random thoughts:

I took a lot of heart/inspiration/motivation from Togashi’s last few volumes of Yu Yu Hakusho to keep the backgrounds as lazy - I mean sparse - as possible and also speech bubbles over plain backgrounds lmao. I think it takes a lot of confidence (or maybe laziness) to be so minimalist and restrained, and it’s an impressive and economical way of working. I was always impressed that when reading those pages of his for the first time, the lack of detail never really bothered me - you had everything you needed for your brain to comfortably fill in the gaps and complete the sense of narrative and story progression, and there are still visual flourishes when the situation calls for it. So I’m trying to bring a bit of that tighter philosophy in.

Research. I struggle a LOT with not getting bogged down by details, especially when it’s something “just” for fun or “just” a fancomic. I have very lovely and helpful friends and family who every so often patiently allow me to whine and bounce things off of them, help me look things up, and/or tell me when I’m getting myopic about stuff. For all the North Bound comics, finding quick and useful historical references for the time period has been a challenge. There’s a ton about aristocracy and warriors but very little about the ordinary/common people, not surprisingly. I frequently question my instincts about what makes sense because I tend to automatically draw on similar/equivalent Chinese culture (there was certainly lots of cross-over, but not always appropriate/relevant) or Edo period references (wrong time frame! Too far in the future). I often end up losing a ton of time trying to find something with roundabout searches, and then give up and look at other comics I have close enough to the time period. And then referencing those and compounding whatever historical errors they have in them. (e.g., “Well if it was good enough for Osamu Tezuka’s Phoenix it’s good enough for this rando fancomic!”) I just would like historical/subject matter experts to know I did try...