#and I reminded myself of what it evolves to
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machineheraldbabe · 2 days ago
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Viktor's (subverted) Aristotelian Tragedy
A common sentiment I’m seeing throughout post-finale Viktor discourse is an understandable concern or distaste for the element of choice lost throughout his story. I know a lot of us – myself included – expected more time spent on his transformation, along with emphasis on the anger/rage/betrayal fueling it. But seeing him allow Singed to “begin the process” in episode 8 reminded me of Arcane’s origins – tragedy. Bear with me for another long analysis :)
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Aristotle wrote the following on the tragedy: “A tragedy is the imitation of an action that is serious and also, as having magnitude, complete in itself…with incidents arousing pity and fear, wherewith to accomplish a catharsis of these emotions.” He also emphasized that the true tragic hero couldn’t be perfect, and his downfall into such catharsis-inducing circumstances was reliant on a fatal flaw, oftentimes pride.
Viktor fits this mold, as do many Arcane characters, and it stands to reason that this was intentional since the writing team has reiterated that the show is a tragedy, at its core.
Regarding Viktor’s fatal flaw, I’d argue it’s pride, but it manifests very uniquely. He never makes any grand declarations about his success and doesn’t draw attention to himself in any clear way throughout season one (“Progress Day” comes to mind). Instead, his pride manifests as staunch independence and self-reliance that lead to his downfall; his unwillingness to break his stoic mold arguably led to his use of the Hexcore…so it goes.
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Fascinating caveat: Viktor’s pride is a defense mechanism, a necessary tool he built in order to survive and succeed in a hostile environment to people of his station. His self-reliance is increasingly desperate as his illness worsens. He’s cornered by fate but banks on the sanctity of choice at every turn – in season one, Viktor is bound by the conviction that we all have a choice. It’s why he’s so distressed when Jayce makes the wrong one regarding weaponizing Hextech.
“There is always a choice.”
Viktor’s choice to fuse with the Hexcore is the classic Aristotelian fatal flaw moment, the singular incident that opens the flood gates for eventual catharsis. We watch Viktor make an irreparable choice, one that we know to be bad, and endure the repercussions. He then makes the choice to abandon the Hexcore, and end his life, but audiences can’t shake the feeling that those consequences aren’t leaving anytime soon.
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So why is Viktor so anti-choice in his final season 2, act 3 form?
Choice is Viktor’s weapon. Pride is what leads him to abusing it. Despite how uncomfortable and depressing it is to watch, Viktor’s slow descent into the Herald is a perfect twist of fate. The Arcane is even so insidious that it meshes with his original intent, to help those suffering in the undercity, while convincing him that their subservience is healing. He becomes responsible for their choices. He knows what’s best because he’s relieving the Gloriously Evolved of their suffering, right? The utopia is for the greater good, yes?
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Admittedly, it was really hard watching act 3 Viktor descend fully into his choiceless ethos. But we can still relate it to his tragic flaw – his pride has mushroomed into coldhearted omniscience; not only does he know what’s best for everyone, evolution, but he also has the sense to make the choice for them to supersede their “baser instincts.” The grief we feel upon seeing this perverted, violent version of himself, as far removed from Viktor as possible, is the culmination of Aristotle’s treatise on tragedy. The catharsis is the rock-bottom Machine Herald.
"Choice is false."
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But then Arcane decided to basically make Jayvik canon (get out of here, Christian Linke) and destroyed the early drafts of this post. I’m going to rapid-fire this next bit:
Jayce forces Viktor back to life. Viktor has no agency in his season 2 inciting incident. Again, it’s distressing when we mourn his agency, but it remains in accordance with Aristotelian tragedy.
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Viktor clings to humanity as long as he possibly can. When Jayce calls out Viktor’s trajectory, alleging that his old partner had died in the Council chamber, whatever is left of Viktor gives way to the Arcane because his last tether has been snapped.
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Jayce knows the game – Old Man Jenkins Mage Viktor told him so. Jayce becomes the linchpin in subverting Viktor’s tragedy. He knows what must happen. He understands now.
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Machine Herald Viktor is given the chance to undo his fatal flaw, to reverse the catharsis, when he sees Old Man Jenkins Mage Viktor. With Jayce’s help, he takes it.
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Given that it’s a version of Viktor who ultimately frees him from himself by empowering Jayce, we can gather that Viktor has liberated himself from his tragedy.
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Aristotle’s catharsis is rapidly transformed from something based in release to something healing – Viktor’s tether to humanity returns. He grasps it. The walls of his pride and self-reliance collapse. He accepts Jayce’s help, finally being seen as the full individual he is. Catharsis ensues, for sure, but I don’t think it’s based in the typical tragedy genre.
All this to say, I think Viktor’s arc was, in fact, carefully constructed. He represents the Aristotelian descent into a fatal flaw and that’s very distressing to see unfold, especially since he embodied the tragic hero archetype so well from day one. However, Jayce undoes this narrative and we’re given an incredibly subversive ending that I, personally, never saw coming.
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I’m sure that Mage Viktor has a much larger bearing on this analysis than I’m accounting for. But for now, suffice to say that he is Viktor’s way out of the tragedy. TALK ABOUT CHOICE!
This doesn’t erase anyone’s discomfort for Viktor having less and less agency, but I’d like to emphasize the logic and literary precedent behind the story decisions.
PS: here's a quick source I looked at about Aristotelian tragedies. I hope to re-up on Greek tragedies so I can get more specific about the parallels Arcane draws from them.
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st-hedge · 1 year ago
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Dark link and phantom Ganon but they are weird Pokémon trainers. Haunter and runerigus for dark link. Rookidee, lampent, and zorua (only the tiniest guys) for phantom Ganon. Don’t question my Pokémon vibe check, it simply fits. Also shiny Pokémon for shiny ganlink
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dreamyyesenia · 1 month ago
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✨ Positivity Pixie Dust! ✨ Sending positive vibes to those that get this message! Copy and send this message to the last 5 people on your dash to spread the positivity. (Or to anyone else you like, no need to limit yourself). Have a great day! 🫶🏻
Thank you so much 🌟 Hope you have the most wonderful day dear 🫶🏻
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lunasilvis · 1 year ago
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Gradually shifting into a sunnier mood and it feels kinda good 🌞 I also managed to fix an advancing mechanical/electrical issue today with my bass amplifier which was becoming a bigger annoyance by day :/ cheers to diy'ing household (or traditionally masculine) issues as a woman, forever
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folkinsomnia · 2 years ago
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ever since [former friend], any kind of compliment or expression of admiration from a new acquaintance feels like lovebombing and a precursor to manipulation.
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a-commas-a-pause · 1 month ago
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Just had a look and I have a theory, but I'm afraid my theory doesn't really have anything to do with a connection between spots and placentas (though you could draw a connection, if necessary - something about cell-to-cell communication, I suspect). I think it's probably more about the protein in question being a really good switch.
Let me explain what I mean by that. The protein in question is an aminopeptidase, which means that when it's expressed in the cell, what it does is it looks for other target proteins (with a specific structural motif) and then when it finds its targets, it chomps a bit off the end of them. This might result in the degradation of the target, or it might just be required for the target to do something else (like go latch onto DNA and express yet another gene, or like mediating pigment production). The point is, what this particular sort of protein actually does is nothing to do with placentas or spots. What this protein does is that in cells where it's expressed, it goes around turning off (or on) all the other proteins that have a particular motif/flag.
It's kind of like if I had a bunch of unrelated tasks I needed to do, but I gave myself a biscuit for every completed task. The biscuit isn't related to any of the tasks and it also doesn't particularly signify that the tasks have anything to do with each other, but it is still absolutely true that I will not do either task if I do not get my biscuit.
Now, as to why it doesn't affect placental function in cats (or coat colour in humans, I guess)? Well, if I had to guess, I'd say while this gene has been around for a long time, its original job was probably neither of those things. It probably did something else yet again, or several other things.
As long as genes' expression zones aren't crossing over, it's actually fine for them to have multiple roles. If A turns on both B and C, but B is only even expressed in the first place in eyes and C is only expressed in fingers, it's fine that A is crucial to two entirely separate processes, one for making fingers and one for making eyes. You're not going to end up with eyes on your fingers because for that you'd also need B (and X Y and Z probably as well). It's also fine if the zones of expression are only separated temporally - maybe B is expressed early and C late, and A gets turned on twice throughout development, once early to activate B and once later to activate C. And it's turned off in the middle to prevent it from accidentally activating D, which instead needs to be activated by B.
Lots of genes have a huge number of seemingly unrelated roles like this - it's called "moonlighting" and it's turning out to be way more common than we first thought. If you've already got a switch that works, why make another one from first principles? Now this is kind of the equivalent of "well we only have one single bed for two people, but it's fine because one of us works night shifts so we never need it at the same time", that is to say, Not Perfect. But natural selection doesn't optimise for perfect, it optimises for "good enough to not die long enough to successfully pass on your genes" (usually, ish, look this reblog is already really long and we don't need to get into this too right now), and the timeshare solution is plenty good enough, so it's what ends up happening like 90% of the time minimum. It's really really hard to make new things and really really easy to reuse old things, basically, and evolution always takes the easiest option in the same way that streams don't flow uphill.
There are some genes that shouldn't be able to moonlight because they turn on whole SUITES of other genes - genes where if you express them in the wrong place they DO put eyes where your fingers should go, and we call these master regulators. But also, this isn't like. A true dichotomy. Master regulators also do seem to moonlight sometimes. And a gene that's a master regulator of something in one clade might do something completely different in another clade. The GABA genes, which are neurotransmitters in animals, actually have a bunch of other signalling functions in plants, especially to do with establishing cell polarity (how does the cell know what direction to grow in). Turns out GABA's just a pretty handy little signalling molecule that's super versatile for cell-to-cell signalling, and multiple different branches of the eukaryotes have taken advantage of that fact!
was browsing thru papers about animal coloration and learned that a gene that helps make the placenta in humans (the thing that keeps you alive when you're a fetus in the womb) also exists in cheetahs, but in the cheetahs, it just controls the placement of their spots
How does THAT happen?!
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zoofzoofxx · 11 days ago
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—The art of eyecontact—
Pairings ; Axel Kovacevic x fem!reader
Summary ; Upon arriving in Barcelona with your group, Miyagi-Do, to participate in the prestigious Sekai Takai tournament, you encounter a tall and formidable opponent. Your initial meeting is less than ideal, leaving both of you with a poor first impression of each other. However, everything changes when you uncover a surprising secret about him. This discovery shifts your perspective entirely, prompting you to confront him. What begins as a tense interaction unexpectedly evolves into a deeper understanding, and the two of you gradually grow closer in ways neither of you anticipated.
Trigger warning ; Physical abuse, violence, emotional abuse.
Pt. 1
୨୧・・・・♡・・・・୨୧
After arriving at the hotel, exhausted and looking as though I haven’t slept in weeks, I pick up the key to my room, which I’m sharing with Sam. I give her a quick nod to let her know I’ll head up to the room, and she simply nods back, already engrossed in a conversation with her boyfriend, Miguel.
With my suitcase in one hand and my bag in the other, I put my AirPods back in and turn on my music before stepping into the elevator. The ride is quiet, and I find myself zoning out until the familiar ding signals that I’ve reached my floor.
Pulling the handle of my suitcase, I step out of the elevator, scrolling through my phone without bothering to look up. Before I know it, I collide with someone and fall to the ground, one of my AirPods tumbling out in the process. Startled, I look up, ready to apologize for not paying attention—but before I can say a word, he beats me to it.
‘Watch where you’re going,’ he says, rolling his eyes in obvious annoyance
‘I’m sorry,’ I say quickly, standing up and grabbing my fallen AirPod.
He sighed, his gaze feeling as though it pierced directly into my soul. He appeared cold and tense. ‘Just don’t let it happen again,’ he said, not giving me a chance to respond before walking away.
I exhaled slowly, gathering my belongings and glancing at my hotel card to find my room number. As I looked around, I realized I had ended up right in front of my hotel room. With a soft sigh, I stepped inside, taking a moment to settle myself. I reminded myself that I still had two hours to prepare before we needed to leave for the city tour. The quiet of the room allowed me to relax for a brief moment, and I moved calmly to unpack and get ready, focusing on the next part of the day without letting the earlier encounter distract me.
As I stood in the bathroom, the cold water from the shower running over me, I couldn’t help but think about the guy from earlier. He was likely my opponent. He was tall, with striking blue eyes and brown hair. There was something about him—he seemed unbothered, almost arrogant, yet calm and tense all at once. The mix of qualities made him difficult to read.
I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard a knock on the door. It was probably Sam, letting me know she had arrived back at the hotel as well. I turned off the shower, quickly blow-drying my hair before slipping into a simple white long-sleeve shirt and grey Nike sweatpants.
Walking out of the bathroom, I grabbed my makeup kit and sat down, ready to get prepared for the evening. The calm of the moment allowed me to focus, shifting my attention away from the earlier encounter and onto the night ahead.
‘Team events will begin tomorrow,’ Sam remarked as she adjusted her outfit in the mirror. I sat quietly, scrolling through my phone, waiting for her to finish and let me know when she was ready to head out. After a few moments, she signaled that she was all set, and we made our way to the lobby to continue with our plans for the evening.
‘So… are you feeling a bit stressed?’ Sam asked, her tone casual as she glanced at me. ‘With the fact that Tory is now in Cobra Kai and you’re the captain?’
Tory had left right when she was about to win against Samantha, which led to me having to compete against Sam for the captain’s position. In the end, I came out on top.
‘No, I’m just worried about Tory, that’s all,’ I replied, stepping out of the elevator. As soon as I did, I felt a pair of eyes boring into me. It was the guy from earlier—the one I had bumped into. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and I quickly looked away, feeling a sudden wave of discomfort wash over me.
I turned to Sam and told her about the encounter, and she glanced at him quickly before nudging me with her elbow, a playful smirk crossing her face.
‘Ow,’I exclaimed, flinching from the sudden nudge, and Sam responded by wiggling her eyebrows mischievously.
I raised an eyebrow, giving her a look that silently reminded her she had a boyfriend. Sam simply raised her hands in mock surrender, grinning, and then walked off toward the bathroom. I waited outside, shaking my head.
The photographer announced that he wanted a group photo with just the captains. I stood next to Robby, both of us smiling for the camera. The photographer then said something about the guy in the back, urging him to smile as well. I glanced over, and there he was—smiling at the camera before his gaze shifted to meet mine. A sigh escaped me as I quickly looked away, a familiar nervous feeling creeping up once again.
The next day, I felt the weight of stress settling on my shoulders—today was the first day of the tournament, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. Wanting to shake off my nerves, I left the hotel early to give myself a chance to warm up. As I made my way toward the locker rooms to drop off my things, a voice suddenly interrupted my thoughts. I turned, and there he was—the mysterious guy from yesterday.
He was training with his sensei, who was urging him to move faster. The guy struggled to keep up, failing repeatedly, much to his sensei’s frustration. Unexpectedly, the sensei struck him multiple times, demanding he try again. The guy made another attempt, but once more, he failed and took a few more hits. As he turned to face me, our eyes locked for a brief moment.
I quickly looked away, eager to leave without drawing attention. I hurried into the locker rooms, hoping he hadn’t noticed me. The encounter left me unsettled, and I stood there in silence, trying to process what had just happened. I didn’t know how to feel about the situation.
The first competition ended in a swift, crushing loss. As I left the court, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on me. I kept replaying the match in my mind, second-guessing every decision and wondering if I had let my team down. It felt like the entire tournament might slip away because of me. Despite my best efforts to stay calm, the guilt and stress gnawed at me.
I was the first to retreat to the locker room, hoping to find some solace and a bottle of water to clear my head. But as I opened the storage, I saw that all the bottles were empty. I sighed, trying to steady the nervous energy bubbling under the surface. Deciding to head to the canteen, I reminded myself that there were still two hours before the next event. That gave me time to regroup and pull myself together—or so I hoped.
As I entered the canteen, my eyes landed almost immediately on him. He stood near the fridge, tall and poised as ever, with his hair styled perfectly, as if he hadn’t just come from the chaos of competition. My stomach tightened, and my heart began to race, though I desperately willed it to stop. Of all people to see right now, it had to be him. I didn’t want to face him—especially not now, when I felt like a failure. My shoulders tensed as I resolved to stick to my plan: grab a bottle, stay invisible, and leave as quickly as possible.
I moved swiftly to the fridge, avoiding eye contact and keeping my head down. My thoughts were a swirl of self-consciousness and unease. Did he notice me? Was he going to say anything about the match? Every moment I spent near him felt like an eternity, but, to my relief, I managed to grab the water and make it to the line without incident.
As I stood waiting my turn to pay, I tried to focus on anything but the awkwardness still lingering from the match. My hands were fidgety, and I shifted my weight slightly, anxious to get out of there. Then, as if the universe had decided I needed one more challenge, my opponent from the earlier competition lined up behind me. I could feel his presence without even turning around— it was palpable, a stark and unwelcome reminder of the loss I was already struggling to push from my mind.
When it was finally my turn to pay, I reached into my pocket and froze. My wallet wasn’t there. A cold wave of panic swept over me as I realized I’d left it in my bag back in the locker room. Feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment, I quickly turned to the cashier and asked if she could give me a moment to retrieve it. Her response was curt and final: the line was too long, and she couldn’t wait.
Humiliated, I had no choice but to leave the canteen empty-handed. The sting of rejection added another layer to my already fragile mood. I stepped outside into the crisp air, taking slow, deliberate breaths in an effort to calm myself. I stretched, more out of habit than necessity, and tried to regain a sense of control.
Even as the fresh air began to soothe my nerves, the doubt lingered. It felt like everything was spiraling, and I couldn’t help but feel that it was all my fault. Still, I reminded myself that there was time to turn things around. The tournament wasn’t over yet, and I couldn’t let this moment define the rest of the day. Though the insecurity remained, I resolved to keep pushing forward, however shaky my confidence felt.
After returning to the locker room, I sat down quietly next to my bag, letting the silence of the space settle around me. As I unzipped the bag, my eyes were drawn to two ice-cold water bottles lying inside, their surfaces glistening faintly. I paused, blinking at them in mild confusion, trying to piece together how I hadn’t noticed them earlier. I looked up, my thoughts momentarily scattered, unsure whether to feel relieved, amused, or simply puzzled by the discovery.
‘Was anyone here?’ I asked Demetri, holding up the bottles of water and glancing at him with a mix of curiosity and confusion. My voice was calm, but my mind raced slightly, trying to make sense of their sudden appearance.
‘Yeah, the girl from Iron Dragons, Zara, I think,’ Demetri explained quickly. ‘She said you needed some water but forgot your wallet, so she brought these for you.’
The Iron Dragons—that was the team the tall guy was from. From what I knew, Zara was their captain. I hadn’t expected her to do something like this, but I couldn’t help feeling a slight wave of gratitude. I decided I would thank her later, once the next competition was over. For now, I just needed to focus on what was ahead.
I grabbed the water bottle, a quiet wave of gratitude passing through me. It was a small gesture, but it made a difference in that moment. Taking a deep breath, I decided to search for my teammates and gather them together. I needed to rally them, give them a motivational speech, even though, deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the loss in the first competition was mostly my fault. Still, I knew I had to set that aside and focus on getting everyone back on track for the next round.
It was time for the next event, and the pressure was mounting. There were different categories, but we lost almost all of them. The only victories came from the 2vs1 match, where Miguel secured a win, and the Bojutsu (staff technique/ art of stick fighting), where I managed to come out on top.
The following day brought a small victory—we won once, but it came with its own challenges. Our task was to force the opponent to fall from the podium, and only Miguel managed to win and stay on it. The weight of it all hit harder when I saw our team nearly at the bottom of the standings. The stress was becoming overwhelming; we were running out of time, and the gap between us and the top seemed to grow wider with each passing moment.
The next event was the elimination phase of Sakai Taikai, and as the moment drew closer, an overwhelming sense of anxiety crept back into my mind. I couldn’t shake the thought that I might lose because of my own small mistakes, and it was a nagging feeling that seemed to grow stronger with each passing second.
It was a 2v2 on a high platform, a challenging setup that added to the pressure. The Iron Dragons went first with their demonstration. The tall guy—who I knew to be an exceptional competitor—was flawless. He moved with such grace and precision that he wasn’t even touched once by his opponent. I couldn’t help but watch in awe as he maneuvered effortlessly across the platform, his every movement exuding confidence and skill. Before I could think much more about it, I overheard Demetri and Hawk talking nearby. Their conversation snapped me out of my thoughts as they referred to the tall guy as a “monster” because of his skill. The words hit me differently than I expected—guilt crept in. It didn’t feel right to hear them speak about him behind his back like that, especially when he was right there, demonstrating his abilities so effortlessly. I felt a pang of discomfort, as if they were undermining his talent. I couldn’t let it slide.
‘Don’t call him a monster,’ I exclaimed, my voice firm. ‘You don’t know him or what he deals with.’
They exchanged glances before looking at me, their expressions softening. I could see the apology in their eyes, and for a moment, the tension in the air seemed to ease. They nodded slightly, acknowledging what I had said, and I felt a small sense of relief. It wasn’t right to judge someone so quickly, and I wasn’t going to stand by and let it happen.
They announced that it was our turn. Roby and I were the first to step onto the podium to fight. As I climbed the stairs, the height of the platform hit me all at once, and my knees felt like they might give way, soft as cotton. Despite the flutter of nerves, I focused on doing my best, trying to shake off the unease.
Then, suddenly, our eyes met—the tall guy again. For a brief moment, I froze, distracted by the connection. My opponent saw the opening and almost pushed me off the platform. Just as I was about to lose my footing, Roby took a risk and managed to eliminate two opponents at once. The crowd erupted in cheers, and I heard the rush of feet as the other competitors came charging in, with Sam joining me on the platform.
Time passed, and it all came down to the final two opponents. Now, it was Miguel’s turn to step in and help me finish it. As we worked together to eliminate them, I felt a small surge of pride. I hadn’t fallen once, and that, in itself, was enough to bring a little bit of happiness in the midst of the chaos.
Everyone in our group was cheering after the competition. We were relieved and excited that we hadn’t been eliminated and that we still had a chance to continue in Sakai Taikai. But amidst the celebration, Miguel was nowhere to be found.
Just as Robby and I were catching our breath, we were called to the side by our Senseis. Their faces were serious, and I could feel the shift in the air as they delivered the bad news. One of our Senseis, along with Miguel, had to leave immediately. Miguel’s mother had been hospitalized, and there were complications with her pregnancy.
The weight of the situation hit me hard. Not only were we down one Sensei, but we were also losing a teammate. I couldn’t help but feel a deep concern for Miguel’s mother. I hoped she would pull through and that everything would turn out okay. It was hard to focus on anything else when I knew Miguel’s family needed him, and I hoped she’d recover quickly.
While everyone else was out partying at some random club in Barcelona, I found myself binge-watching a film series. After a while, I decided I needed a change of pace and thought a walk along the beach might clear my mind. I threw on a white hoodie and some black leggings, grabbed a bottle of water for the walk, and headed out. The evening air was cool, and I was ready for a little solitude by the ocean.
I walked for a moment, my thoughts still lingering on the events of the day, until I found myself at the beach. As I looked around, my eyes landed on someone standing nearby, shirtless. I blinked, and as I drew closer, I realized it was the tall guy from earlier.
The brown-haired boy was diligently practicing a series of movements, each one executed with remarkable precision and fluidity. Despite my exhaustion and the haze clouding my thoughts, I couldn’t seem to pull my gaze away. There was something captivating about the way he moved, as though every motion was deliberate and purposeful. My fatigue seemed to fade into the background as I became mesmerized by his focus and technique. It was almost as if everything around me disappeared, and I was entirely absorbed in watching him. I couldn’t help but wonder about the discipline and dedication that went into mastering such skills, but at the same time, I felt too drained to even process the thoughts fully. But then, my attention shifted when I noticed some red marks on his back. They stood out against his skin, drawing my gaze away from his fluid motions, and I couldn’t help but wonder how they had gotten there.
Suddenly, he executed a move that caused him to turn and face me directly. His expression shifted from focus to surprise, and for a moment, he froze, caught off guard by my presence. It was as if the sudden shift in direction had momentarily thrown him off balance, and we stood there in an awkward silence, both taken aback by the unexpected encounter.
‘Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,’ I exclaimed, taking a step closer. As I moved, the cold wind hit me, sending a shiver down my spine. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ward off the chill, but my attention remained on him, feeling the awkwardness between us linger in the air.
‘Uhm… I’m Y/n, by the way,’ I said, tilting my head to the side, feeling a bit shy and insecure. My voice was soft, unsure of how to break the silence. I couldn’t help but feel a little awkward standing there, hoping my introduction might ease the tension, even though my nerves made it hard to feel at ease.
‘Axel,’ he said, his voice a little stiff as he shifted slightly, looking tense and uncomfortable. I could tell he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the situation either, and his unease mirrored my own. The air between us felt a little thick, and I found myself wishing I could think of something to say to make it less awkward.
‘That’s a pretty cool kata. What’s it called?’ I asked softly, hoping to break the awkward silence. My voice was tentative, but I genuinely wanted to know. It felt like the right way to ease the tension between us, even if I was still a little unsure of myself.
‘I’m not supposed to talk to the opponents,’ he exclaimed, his tone a bit stubborn. There was a hint of defensiveness in his words, as if he was trying to set a boundary, but it only added to the awkwardness. I could tell he was trying to stick to some kind of rule, and I immediately felt a bit embarrassed for having spoken up.
‘We’re not on the mat,’ I said with a small smile, feeling the blush creep up my nose. I wasn’t sure if it was the cold, the embarrassment, or my own shyness causing the heat to rise in my cheeks, but I tried to brush it off. The awkwardness was still there, but I hoped my attempt at humor might ease the tension just a bit.
‘It’s pretty late for training,’ I exclaimed, sighing as I tried to warm up my hands by rubbing them together. The cold was starting to get to me, and I couldn’t help but feel the discomfort in my fingers. I glanced at Axel, hoping to ease the awkwardness with a casual comment, but the tension still lingered between us.
‘Always time for training,’ he said, his tone firm and matter-of-fact. His words carried a quiet determination, and for a moment, I felt like I was glimpsing a side of him that was completely focused, almost unshakable.
After he said that, he reached down to grab his shirt from the sand. As he moved, the red marks on his back became more visible, standing out sharply against his skin. I couldn’t help but notice them, the vividness of the marks raising questions in my mind.
‘Whoa, whoa… what happened to your back?’ I asked cautiously as he pulled his shirt over his head, my voice filled with concern as I took a few small steps forward. I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I was overstepping, but the marks were too striking to ignore. My curiosity and worry outweighed my hesitation.
‘Uh, from the bo staff competition,’ he answered quickly, his tone dismissive as he avoided meeting my concerned gaze. It was clear he didn’t want to dwell on it, brushing it off as if it were nothing, but the marks told a different story.
‘Nobody’s been able to land a point on you yet,’ I said, my tone light but observant. His reaction was immediate—he shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze even more than before. The tension in his demeanor made me pause, debating whether or not to bring up what I had seen earlier during his training with his sensei. The memory of those moments weighed on my thoughts, but I wasn’t sure if addressing it would make things better or worse.
‘I saw what happened with your sensei,’ I said softly, breaking the silence. My tone was careful, not wanting to sound intrusive, but I felt the need to acknowledge what I had witnessed.
‘My sensei wants me to be the best. It’s because of him I never lose.’ he said coldly, his sharp tone cutting through the air as he looked directly at me. His gaze was steady, but there was an edge to it, as though he was daring me to challenge his words.
‘There are other ways of teaching,’ I said, my voice laced with concern. I couldn’t help but feel worried, sensing that his sensei’s approach might be pushing him too hard. I wanted to say more, but I wasn’t sure if I should press further.
‘I mean, I got to admit, your dojo’s pretty great,’ I exclaimed, offering him a friendly smile. I hoped my words would ease the tension, acknowledging his dedication while keeping the conversation light. Despite my concern, I didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.
‘Thank you,’ Axel said, his tone softer, looking a little more at ease now. ‘You’re pretty… Your… Your dojo’s pretty good too.’ He added quickly, a small blush creeping onto his cheeks, though I suspected it might have been as much from the cold as from his sudden shyness. His words caught me off guard, and I couldn’t help but smile, feeling the tension ease between us.
‘We try,’ I said with a small smile, hoping to reassure him. I could see the tension easing slightly, and I wanted to keep things light. The moment felt less awkward, and I was relieved for it.
‘Mind if I join?’ Axel asked, and the question caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected him to ask, but there was a hint of curiosity in his voice that made me pause for a moment.
‘You want to switch dojo’s?’ I asked, raising my eyebrows in shock. The idea hadn’t crossed my mind, and I was curious about why he’d bring it up. It seemed like a bold move, especially given how dedicated he was to his current dojo.
‘Your walk. I was going back to hotel.’ he said, pointing towards the route I was supposed to take. It took me a moment to process what he meant, but then I realized he was offering to join me on the walk back, which felt unexpected but kind.
‘Oh, yeah,’ I laughed awkwardly, caught off guard by the offer. ‘Yeah, sure,’ I added quickly, hoping to reassure him. As we started walking, I couldn’t help but notice the height difference between us—he towered over me, and I felt a little small in comparison, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just another thing that made the moment feel a little surreal.
As we walked along the beach, the soothing sound of the waves crashing in the background, our conversation turned to travel. We began talking about the countries we had visited, sharing stories of our experiences in different places. The gentle breeze and the calming rhythm of the ocean made the conversation feel easy and natural, and for the first time that night, I felt completely at ease. From what he mentioned, it seemed like he had traveled to every country in Europe. He shared details about different cities and cultures he’d encountered, his experiences coming across as both vast and fascinating. It made me realize just how much he had seen and done, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at his travels. He also asked me a few questions, curious about my thoughts on Barcelona. He wanted to know what I thought of the city, what I hoped to visit, and what I wanted to do while I was here. His questions felt genuine, and I found myself sharing more than I had planned, enjoying the flow of our conversation. It was nice to talk about my plans without feeling rushed or pressured.
We laughed and enjoyed the moment, the conversation flowing easily, until one of our opponents from Tory’s team approached us with a few of his friends. The sudden interruption broke the easy atmosphere, and I could feel a shift in the air as they came closer.
‘How cute!’ Kwon exclaimed, tilting his head in sarcastic awe. His tone was playful yet teasing, as if he was trying to get a reaction from us. It was clear he wasn’t just making a casual comment, but rather trying to stir things up a bit
‘Little rival team play time, huh?’ he said with a grin, his words slurring slightly. It was clear he was definitely not sober, and his carefree smile made the situation feel a bit awkward. His tone was light, but there was an edge to it, as if he was trying to provoke something.
‘Just ignore them,’ I said with a sigh, glancing at Axel. I could feel the tension creeping in, but I didn’t want to let it ruin the moment. I hoped Axel would let it slide too, as it was clear Kwon’s words were meant more to tease than to start a real confrontation. I tried to walk past them, but they shifted right in front of me, giving me a big, smug smile. It was like they were blocking my path on purpose, clearly enjoying the chance to get under my skin.
‘Say the magic words,’ Kwon laughed, raising his eyebrows playfully. His grin widened, clearly enjoying the situation more than he should.
‘Move aside,’ I said, my tone laced with clear annoyance. I wasn’t in the mood for their games, and I made sure they knew it as I stood my ground.
‘Wrong,’ he said sternly, his playful demeanor shifting into something more confrontational. The tone in his voice made it clear he wasn’t going to let me off that easily.
‘Just leave us alone,” I sighed, frustration creeping into my voice. I was done with their teasing and just wanted to move on, hoping they’d finally get the hint. Kwon kneeled to my height and smiled, his expression mocking yet somehow amused. It was as if he thought the whole situation was a game, and I was the one missing the joke.
‘Only if you say please,’ he laughed, getting uncomfortably close, his face now just inches from mine. The mocking tone in his voice made my irritation grow, but I stood my ground, refusing to let him get under my skin.
That was the final straw for Axel. His expression darkened as his fist clenched tightly at his side. One of Kwon’s friends caught the movement and took it as a signal to strike, delivering a swift kick to Axel’s stomach. To my surprise, Axel barely even flinched, standing firm as if the attack hadn’t phased him.
At the same moment, the other friend of Kwon lunged toward me. Axel reacted immediately, dealing with his opponent effortlessly, his precision and speed almost intimidating. Inspired by his confidence, I focused on my attacker, countering their moves and managing to take them down just as effectively. The entire exchange was over in moments, leaving Kwon’s friends clearly outmatched.
Axel and I turned our attention to Kwon, who stood his ground with an overly confident smirk. ‘Come on, I’ll take you both. Let’s go,’ he taunted, his bravado thick in the air. But before he could make a move, one of his friends grabbed his arm and urged him to stop.
‘Let’s get out of here. The cops are coming,’ his friend said, the urgency in his voice cutting through Kwon’s bravado.
Sure enough, the faint wail of police sirens echoed in the distance. Without hesitation, Axel and I exchanged a quick glance and bolted in the opposite direction, heading back toward the beach.
By the time we stopped, both of us were out of breath, the cool ocean breeze offering some relief as we tried to collect ourselves. The tension of the moment slowly gave way to exhaustion, the sounds of the waves a stark contrast to the chaos we’d just escaped.
‘Cobra Kai… those assholes,’ I muttered between breaths, my frustration evident as I leaned forward, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. The adrenaline was still coursing through me, but the tension was beginning to ebb, replaced by a simmering annoyance at what had just unfolded.
‘Nice round kick,’ he said, his tone genuine as his eyes stayed fixed on me. There was a flicker of admiration in his gaze, and it caught me off guard for a moment. I straightened up, still trying to steady my breath, feeling a mix of pride and self-consciousness under his watchful look.
‘Nice counterstrike,’ I said between breaths, managing a small smile.
Axel returned the gesture with a genuine smile of his own, his gaze never wavering from mine. There was something steady and unwavering about the way he looked at me, and it made me feel oddly at ease despite everything that had just happened.
For a moment, the only sounds between us were the crashing waves in the distance and our labored breaths as we worked to steady ourselves. The adrenaline was beginning to fade, leaving behind a strange sense of calm in the cool night air.
I exhaled deeply, glancing around to make sure the coast was clear. My eyes scanned the area cautiously, the sound of the waves in the background grounding me. After another moment, I sighed again and checked once more before turning to Axel.
‘I think the coast is clear,’ I said softly, breaking the silence.
When I looked at him, I realized he was still watching me, his expression unreadable but intent. There was something in his gaze—an almost admiring quality—that made my heart skip for a moment. I quickly glanced away, unsure of how to react to the unexpected attention.
I took a quick glance at Axel, my heart racing when I saw he was still looking at me. Our eyes locked, and something shifted in the air between us. Feeling the pull, I couldn’t look away and decided to meet his gaze.
He stepped closer, closing the distance between us. I had to tilt my head up to meet his eyes, the height difference suddenly feeling more pronounced. He gently cupped my cheek with one hand, his touch warm and reassuring. With the other, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing lightly against my skin. His expression softened, his eyes flickering between mine and my lips.
The closeness was intoxicating, and before I knew it, he began to lean in, his face inches from mine. My breath caught in my throat, and for a split second, I was ready to give in. But then, a sudden rush of doubt and hesitation swept over me.
‘Woah, no, no…’ I stammered, taking a few quick steps back. The air between us suddenly felt thick with tension, and I could feel the familiar rush of awkwardness creeping back, just like it had at the beginning of our conversation.
I avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the ground, unsure of what to do next. The moment that had felt so intense just moments ago now seemed like a mistake. Why had I pulled away? I had no idea, but the uncertainty left me with a knot in my stomach. Axel didn’t say anything right away, and for a second, the silence stretched between us like an unspoken question hanging in the air.
I tried to steady my breathing, hoping the moment would pass quickly, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just made things even more awkward.
‘I-I’m sorry… I thought-‘ Axel started, his words trailing off as he struggled to find the right thing to say.
He seemed just as uncertain as I was, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and embarrassment. I could see the hesitation in his eyes, and it made me feel even more guilty for pulling away.
I bit my lip, unsure of how to break the silence. The tension hung thick between us, but neither of us seemed to know how to ease it. It felt like everything had shifted in an instant, and now I wasn’t sure how to fix it without making it worse.
‘It’s already after curfew. We should get going,’ His voice was cold, the warmth from earlier now completely gone.
The shift was immediate. The tension between us that had been so palpable moments before evaporated, but not in a way that made me feel better. Instead, it felt like we had just snapped back to some kind of awkward normalcy—where he was distant and aloof again, and I was left fumbling for the right words.
I couldn’t tell if he was still hurt by my reaction or if he was simply shutting himself off, but either way, the walls between us were up once more, and I wasn’t sure how to bring them down.
The walk to the hotel was silent—so silent it felt suffocating. Each step felt heavier, the air thick with unspoken words. The usual ease between us was gone, replaced by an awkward distance I couldn’t seem to close.
I stopped abruptly, feeling a knot tighten in my chest. Axel walked a few steps further before halting, turning back to look at me, his expression confused.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice softer than it had been since… well, since everything had changed.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know what I was feeling anymore. But I could tell that whatever had just happened between us—whatever I had done—had shifted something. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt like the space between us had grown wider than it had ever been before.
I grabbed my phone and glanced at the clock—it was 5 p.m. In an hour, the sunrise would begin. A sudden urge to be by the ocean took over me, the need for some space, for clarity. I sighed quietly to myself and turned to Axel.
‘I’m going back to the beach,’ I said softly. ‘You can head back to the hotel. Goodnight.’
I gave him a small wave and started walking away, my footsteps steady, but my mind still racing.
But then I heard them—footsteps. I stopped, turned, and looked back. It was Axel, walking a few paces behind me. We locked eyes, and for a moment, everything else faded. His gaze was soft, unreadable, but it felt like there was so much unsaid in the space between us. He didn’t say anything, not a single word, but his presence spoke louder than anything could.
I stood still for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Neither of us moved, but neither of us looked away either. The silence lingered, heavy and familiar.
I smiled softly, then turned back and began walking toward the beach. By the time I arrived, the air was colder than I expected, A crisp chill in the air made me pull my hoodie tighter around me, trying to keep the cold at bay. I sat down, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to find warmth in the stillness of the night.
Without a word, Axel appeared beside me. He gently draped his jacket over my shoulders, the warmth of it wrapping around me, offering more comfort than I realized I needed. I looked up, my breath catching for a second as I met his gaze, but he was already taking a few steps back, distancing himself.
He sat down a bit further away, his eyes fixed on the beach and the waves rolling in under the dark sky. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting a soft glow on everything, but I found my attention drifting back to Axel. I couldn’t help it. His quiet demeanor, the way he observed the world around him—it was like he was in tune with everything. For a moment, I caught myself admiring him, his profile soft in the moonlight, his posture relaxed yet strong.
The silence between us felt comfortable, not awkward. It was as though, in this moment, there was no need for words. We just existed together, the sound of the waves, the chill in the air, and the quiet understanding between us.
The sun was about to rise any minute, and I glanced over at Axel, who looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep. I felt guilty for dragging him out here. Standing up, I walked over to him and handed his jacket back, noticing how cold it was and how he only had a sleeveless shirt on. Without saying anything, I sat next to him, gently placing his head on my shoulder, offering him the warmth I could.
I heard Axel sigh softly, and when I looked over at him, he seemed lost in thought. My gaze drifted to the waves, and just then, the sun began to rise, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange. The sight made me straighten my posture, while Axel stretched and yawned, still staring at the horizon in silence. I couldn’t help but smile at the peaceful moment, before standing up and grabbing my phone to capture a photo of the sunrise.
I gently patted Axel’s head, feeling his messy hair beneath my hand. He looked so relaxed, yet on the verge of falling asleep. He looked up at me, and I gave him a soft smile, an unfamiliar flutter starting in my stomach. He slowly stood up, taking a few steps back before raising his phone. I turned to look at him, and to my surprise, he was taking a photo of me with the sunrise behind me. I couldn’t help but smile wider, feeling a faint blush creeping up my nose as I realized how much I enjoyed this moment.
As Axel put his phone down, I walked over to him, unable to resist the urge to give him a big hug. There were no words exchanged, just the sound of silence, the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore, and the warmth of the moment. As we pulled apart, the sunlight hit Axel’s face, casting a golden glow. He squinted slightly from the brightness, but the way the light accentuated his features made him even more captivating.
Without thinking, I reached out, cupping his cheek gently. He looked down at me with a soft, almost questioning gaze, and I couldn’t quite place the feeling swirling in my chest. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the long day, the weight of everything that had happened since the Sekai Taikai, or maybe it was just the way Axel made me feel like I was losing control of my thoughts.
I leaned in, my hands cradling his face, giving him one last, lingering look. His breath caught slightly, and for a moment, I hesitated, unsure of what was driving me. But the pull between us was undeniable. Without thinking further, I closed the space between us, pressing my lips to his.
The moment our lips met, everything seemed to pause. It wasn’t forceful or rushed, but rather soft, tentative—like we were both unsure yet certain at the same time. The warmth from his skin, the faint scent of the ocean mixed with the remnants of his cologne, surrounded me. I felt the gentle press of his lips against mine, a quiet reassurance, as though he was waiting for me to pull away if I needed to.
I didn’t.
Instead, I leaned into him just slightly, feeling the way his hand hesitated at my waist before it gently rested there, steadying both of us. His lips moved slowly, carefully, as if savoring the moment. There was a vulnerability in it, an unspoken question, and it made my heart race in a way I hadn’t expected.
Time seemed to stretch, the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore fading into the background as everything else became a blur. It was just the two of us, caught in this quiet, intimate exchange that somehow spoke louder than any words could.
When we finally pulled apart, my head rested on his chest, breathless. My heart was pounding, my body still humming from the kiss. His hand gently brushed a strand of hair from my face, his eyes soft with something that felt like understanding—maybe even a little awe. Neither of us said anything, but in the silence, there was a shared certainty. It had happened.
Walking back to the hotel was quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was that kind of silence where everything felt right, where words weren’t needed to fill the space. We just enjoyed each other’s company, the soft rhythm of our footsteps in sync.
When we reached my hotel room, I turned to face him, my hands resting gently on his shoulders. Before either of us could say anything, he leaned in, and we kissed again. This time, it was different. It was deeper, more intense, as if we were trying to memorize every sensation in case it was the last time. The kiss held a sense of urgency, an unspoken longing. Even though we both knew we’d see each other again that evening, in that moment, it felt like saying goodbye.
We pulled back reluctantly, but neither of us wanted to let go. Axel gave me a quick, soft kiss on the lips before stepping into the elevator. As the door began to close, I waved at him, my cheeks flushed with a mix of warmth and the excitement of the moment.
The elevator door closed with a soft ding, and I turned to face my room, my heart still racing. I knocked on the door, hoping Sam would be inside, but there was no response. No sign of life from the other side. Sighing, I leaned against the door, feeling a little deflated but still smiling, the feeling of Axel’s kiss lingering on my lips.
I leaned against the wall for a few minutes, the silence of the hallway around me, letting my mind replay the moments with Axel. Then, my phone buzzed, snapping me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen, surprised to see a notification: Axel had followed me on Instagram.
A smile tugged at my lips as I quickly tapped the follow button to return the gesture. Right after, I saw the message pop up from him. My heart skipped a beat as I opened it.
‘Have a nice sleep. Thank you for today,’
I sighed, smiling to myself as I replayed the events of the night in my head. The warmth from our kiss still lingered, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness that was hard to shake. But then, suddenly, a thought hit me—I didn’t have a room to go to.
My heart skipped a beat as I realized that Sam was probably still out and I hadn’t made any arrangements for the night. I glanced at the empty hallway, feeling a little lost. The idea of wandering around the hotel wasn’t exactly appealing
‘Axel, could you do me a favor?’ I typed, my fingers pausing before I hit send.
‘Of course, what is it?’ The text said and I sighed.
‘I seem to have forgotten my room key, and I don’t really want to wake up Sam. Could you help me out and let me crash in your room for the night? Just until morning,’ I texted, hitting send before I could second-guess myself.
I smiled, feeling a mix of relief and excitement as I read his message. Room 415. I quickly grabbed my things and made my way to the elevator. My heart raced a little faster than usual, but this time it wasn’t from anxiety—it was more of an anticipation.
As I stood waiting for the elevator doors to open, my phone buzzed again. Another notification from Axel.
‘Don’t worry, the bed’s big enough. You can relax.’
I chuckled softly to myself, feeling even more at ease. With a quick breath, I stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed behind me. It wasn’t much longer before I reached his floor.
I walked down the hallway, my footsteps almost echoing in the quiet of the night. When I arrived at his door, I hesitated for a moment before knocking softly.
The door opened almost immediately, and Axel stood there with a relaxed smile on his face, clearly having been waiting for me.
‘Hey,’ he greeted, stepping aside to let me in. ‘Make yourself at home.’
I stepped inside, feeling a warm sense of comfort wash over me. The quiet intimacy of the room felt calming, and I couldn’t help but feel a little more at peace.
I looked at Axel, taking in his casual yet somehow perfect appearance: a black hoodie, a white shirt underneath, and grey sweatpants that somehow made him look effortlessly handsome. There was a comfort in the way he stood, relaxed but confident.
I walked up to him, my heart pounding a little faster, the distance between us growing smaller with each step. Standing on my tiptoes, I gently cupped his face before leaning in and kissing him softly. The kiss was light at first, tentative, but as I started to pull away, he caught me by the waist, pulling me closer. His lips met mine again, this time with more urgency, more passion. The kiss deepened, our connection intensifying, as if neither of us wanted to let go of this moment.
My hands found their way to his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through his hoodie, while his arms wrapped around me, holding me close. The room around us faded away, and all that mattered was the feeling of his lips on mine, the way his touch made my heart race. It was a kiss that said more than words could, a kiss that made everything else feel insignificant.
After some time, we reluctantly pulled away, the lingering warmth of the kiss still filling the air. I yawned, suddenly feeling how exhausted I was, the weight of the day catching up to me. Axel, noticing, gently handed me some clothes, and I smiled gratefully at him before heading into the bathroom.
The shower was quick but refreshing, the hot water washing away the tension and fatigue. I quickly braided my hair, feeling a little more awake as I stepped out of the bathroom. When I emerged, I saw Axel lying on the mattress on the floor, his eyes closed, clearly trying to get some rest. His posture was relaxed, and he seemed so at ease in the room, even though the circumstances weren’t ideal.
I paused for a moment, watching him. There was something so comforting about how he looked there, in his own little world, yet still so present with me. With a small sigh, I walked over to the edge of the mattress, sitting down beside him. He opened one eye, glancing up at me before offering a sleepy smile.
‘Getting some sleep now?’ I asked softly, trying not to disturb his calm.
‘Yeah, just waiting for you,’ he murmured, his voice thick with sleepiness. ‘But, I’m not going to last long.’
I smile. ‘Why are you on the floor?’ I ask softly, gently caressing his cheek. ‘You can sleep with me if you’d like.’
Axel hesitated for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked up at me. The offer hung in the air between us, quiet but filled with unspoken understanding. He blinked slowly, clearly processing my words.
‘I didn’t want to make things awkward,’ he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. ‘I figured you’d prefer your space.’
I smiled, brushing my thumb across his cheek gently. ‘It’s not awkward,’ I reassured him. ‘You’re always welcome to be close. Don’t worry about it.’
He looked at me for a second longer before giving a small, almost shy smile. ‘Thanks.’
Without another word, he shifted, moving toward the bed, his body still tense but clearly relieved. He laid down next to me, a little awkwardly at first, but then his body relaxed as he settled in.
I pulled the blanket over both of us, my hand finding his, squeezing it gently. The warmth between us was comforting, and for a moment, everything felt right. We both closed our eyes, the silence between us now peaceful and easy, as we drifted off to sleep together.
A/N; hiii everyone, just finished watching cobra kai part 2 and I LOVE ITTT! I have such a MASSIVE crush on Axel :p I wanted to apologise for my spelling mistakes 😓 have a nice day further! love yourself and drink a lots of water :)
love ya
xoxo Z.S.
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nn-ee-zz · 7 months ago
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I don’t really have a lot to ask I just want to say I love your art style! It kind of reminds me of like Eldritch Horror meets Celestial Divinity type of thing so with that said I was wondering on how you came to this type of art style you do and how long did it take you to experiment until you found the style that you wanted? Sorry if that sounds kinda confusing 😅 thanks for taking the time to read this and have a good rest of your day!
Thank you! I did not found my artstyle, my artstyle found me. Here is a timeline of my digital art/illustration journey
2014 - The beginning
I finally took my tablet and bit the bullet that was digital art. I remember specifically forcing myself to draw (because it was not fun) because I wanted to learn digital art no matter what it took.
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2016 - Experimental
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Boldness seems to have dominated this phase, not because of the themes but because I rendered without any under sketch (example above of how the first draft looked like vs the end)
2017 - The breakthrough
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It was only from here that digital art began feeling RIGHT. The most important things I've learned were how to render texture variation (especially softer things like hair and fur) and how to color a drawing from greyscale. I was slowly settling onto my desired artstyle
2019 - Happy accident
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We were tasked to design characters based on chess pieces during college. 1 week deadline. With the mindset that no one will see my designs except my teacher and I, I did things boldly and rendered them (trad ink plus digital shading) to emphasize shape and design, rather than texture variation.
I began mixing traditional lineart with digital rendering.
2020 - Fallen from heaven
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My friend and I decided to attempt to design angels based on widely popular tumblr emoji mashups. It was the first time I colored one of my character design drawings, using similar methods to the ones I've learned in 2017.
2017 - 2024
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I cannot name nor describe my artstyle nowadays. I haven't seen many people with something similar either. I use what I've learned in all my phases; the spontaneous boldness of 2016, the texture variation of 2017, the sharp shapes and design mindset of 2019, the mix of traditional and digital from 2020. It all melted together and keeps evolving.
The way I approached art changed too. I was so worried about making things beautiful and technically outstanding when today I only worry about making things interesting and readable.
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positivelyqueer · 3 months ago
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hi to any teenagers who might be reading this. I’d like to give you one perspective on ‘it gets better’ as a very mentally ill queer trans twenty something.
I am no less mentally ill than I was as a high schooler. Differently sure but not less. I still struggle a lot. But I’m so much better at dealing with it. Life is no longer one long grey drudge. I’m not confined within it.
I continue to constantly grow and evolve. I learn new things about myself all the time. I lean into old hobbies. I dress how I want. I get piercings and tattoos. I understand what my autism is and treat myself kindly because of it. I trans my gender in new, fun and authentic ways.
And I have so much choice now. I can cover my bed in plush animals. I can buy floral bowls from second hand stores that remind me of my nan. I can eat dinosaur shaped pasta out of those bowls. I can make friends with so many people, not just the two or three dozen I was locked in with in my high school. I can try new hobbies. I can join clubs. I can decide one day I want to take the train to the beach. I can paint my light switch covers. I can volunteer. I can learn. This choice can be terrifying but it is also so so freeing.
I’m carving out the life I want to live, even if the only tool I have is my bloodied fingers. Please stay. It’s worth it. I promise.
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By: Beth Bourne
Published: Feb 27, 2024
Kaiser gender specialists were eager to approve hormones and surgeries, which would all be covered by insurance as “medically necessary.”
On September 6, 2022, I received mail from my Kaiser Permanente Davis Ob-Gyn reminding me of a routine cervical screening. The language of the reminder stood out to me: “Recommended for people with a cervix ages 21 to 65.” When I asked my Ob-Gyn about this strange wording, she told me the wording was chosen to be “inclusive” of their “transgender” and “gender fluid” patients.
Based on this response, several thoughts occurred to me. Could I expose the medical scandal of “gender-affirming care” by saying and doing everything my daughter and other trans-identifying kids are taught to do? Would there be the type of medical safeguarding and differential diagnosis we would expect in other fields of medicine, or would I simply be allowed to self-diagnose and be offered the tools (i.e. hormones and surgeries) to choose my own gender adventure and become my true authentic self?
If I could demonstrate that anyone suffering from delusions of their sex, self-hatred, or identity issues could qualify for and easily obtain body-altering hormones and surgeries, all covered by insurance as “medically necessary” and potentially “life-saving” care, then maybe people would finally wake up. I certainly had.
I was prepared for failure. I wasn’t prepared for how easy success would be.
* * *
I am a 53-year-old mom from Davis, CA. My daughter began identifying as a transgender boy (social transition) and using he/him pronouns at school during 8th grade. Like several of her peers who also identified as trans at her school, my daughter was a gifted student and intellectually mature but socially immature. This shift coincided with her school’s sudden commitment to, and celebration of, a now widespread set of radical beliefs about the biology of sex and gender identity.
She “came out” as trans to her father (my ex-husband) and me through a standard coming-out letter, expressing her wish to start puberty blockers. She said she knew they were safe, citing information she had read from Planned Parenthood and the World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH). To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I was also confused because this announcement was sudden and unexpected. While others quickly accepted and affirmed my daughter’s new identity, I was apprehensive and felt the need to learn more about what was going on.
Events began escalating quickly.
During a routine doctor’s visit scheduled for dizziness my daughter said that she was experiencing, the Kaiser pediatrician overheard her father using “he/him” pronouns for our daughter. The pediatrician seemed thrilled, quickly asking my daughter about her “preferred pronouns” and updating her medical records to denote that my daughter was now, in fact, my son. The pediatrician then recommended we consult the Kaiser Permanente Oakland Proud pediatric gender clinic, where she could get further information and (gender affirming) “treatment.” Now I was the one feeling dizzy.
As I began educating myself on this issue, I discovered that this phenomenon—minors, most often teen girls, suddenly adopting trans identities—was becoming increasingly widespread. It even had a name: rapid onset gender dysphoria, or ROGD. Thankfully, after learning about the potential side-effects of blockers and hormones, my ex-husband and I managed to agree not to consent to any medical interventions for our daughter until she turned 18 and would then be able to make such decisions as an adult.
Over the past five years, my daughter’s identity has slowly evolved in ways that I see as positive. Our bond, however, has become strained, particularly since I began publicly voicing my concerns about what many term as “gender ideology.” Following my daughter’s 17th birthday family celebration, she sent me an email that evening stating she would be cutting off contact with me.
While this estrangement brought me sorrow, with my daughter living full-time with her father, it also gave me the space to be an advocate/activist in pushing back on gender identity ideology in the schools and the medical industry.
I decided to go undercover as a nonbinary patient to show my daughter what danger she might be putting herself in—by people who purport to have her health as their interest, but whose main interest is in medically “affirming” (i.e., transitioning) whoever walks through their door. I am at heart a mother protecting her child.
* * *
My daughter’s sudden decision to become a boy was heavily on my mind in early September of 2022, when mail from my Kaiser Permanente Davis Ob-Gyn reminded me of a routine cervical screening with “Recommended for people with a cervix ages 21 to 65.” I was told that the wording was chosen to be “inclusive” of transgender and “gender fluid” patients.
Throughout the whole 231-day process of my feigned gender transition, the Kaiser gender specialists were eager to serve me and give me what I wanted, which would all be covered by insurance as “medically necessary.” My emails were returned quickly, my appointments scheduled efficiently, and I never fell through the cracks. I was helped along every step of the way.
Despite gender activists and clinicians constantly claiming that obtaining hormones and surgeries is a long and complex process with plenty of safety checks in place, I was in full control at every checkpoint. I was able to self-diagnose, determine how strong a dose of testosterone I received and which surgeries I wanted to pursue, no matter how extreme and no matter how many glaring red flags I purposefully dropped. The medical workers I met repeatedly reminded me that they were not there to act as “gatekeepers.”
I was able to instantly change my medical records to reflect my new gender identity and pronouns. Despite never being diagnosed with gender dysphoria, I was able to obtain a prescription for testosterone and approval for a “gender-affirming” double mastectomy from my doctor. It took only three more months (90 days) to be approved for surgery to remove my uterus and have a fake penis constructed from the skin of my thigh or forearm. Therapy was never recommended.
Critics might dismiss my story as insignificant on the grounds that I am a 53-year-old woman with ample life experience who should be free to alter her body. However, this argument for adult bodily autonomy is a standard we apply to purely cosmetic procedures like breast implants, liposuction, and facelifts, not “medically necessary” and “lifesaving” treatments covered by health insurance. Or interventions that compromise health and introduce illness into an otherwise healthy body. And especially not for children.
My story, which I outline in much more detail below, should convince any half-rational person that gender medicine is not operating like any other field of medicine. Based on a radical concept of “gender identity,” this medical anomaly preys upon the body-image insecurities common among pubescent minors to bill health insurance companies for permanent cosmetic procedures that often leave their patients with permanently altered bodies, damaged endocrine systems, sexual dysfunction, and infertility.
* * *
Detailed Timeline of Events
On October 6, 2022, I responded to my Ob-Gyn’s email to tell her that, after some thought, I’d decided that maybe the label “cis woman” didn’t truly reflect who I was. After all, I did have some tomboyish tendencies. I told her I would like my records to be changed to reflect my newly realized “nonbinary” identity, and that my new pronouns were they/them. I also voiced my desire to be put in touch with an endocrinologist to discuss starting testosterone treatment.
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Fifteen minutes later I received an email from another Kaiser doctor informing me that my medical records had been changed, and that once my primary doctor returned to the office, I’d be able to speak with her about hormone therapy.
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I responded the following day (October 7, 2022), thanking her for changing my records, and asking if she could connect me with someone who could help me make an appointment for “top surgery” (i.e., a cosmetic double mastectomy) because my chest binder was rather “uncomfortable after long days and playing tennis.”
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She told me to contact my primary care MD to “get things rolling,” and that there were likely to be “preliminary evaluations.”
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Six days after contacting my primary care MD for a referral, I received an email from one of Kaiser’s gender specialists asking me to schedule a phone appointment so she could better understand my goals for surgery, so that I could get “connected to care.” This call to review my “gender affirming treatment options and services” would take 15-20 minutes, after which I would be “booked for intake,” allowing me to proceed with medical transition.
This wasn’t an evaluation of whether surgical transition was appropriate, it was simply a meeting for me to tell them what I wanted so that they could provide it.
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On October 18, I had my one and only in-person appointment in preparation for top surgery. I met in Davis with my primary care physician, Dr. Hong-wen Xue. The assessment was a 10-minute routine physical exam that included blood tests. Everything came back normal. Notably, there was not a single question about why I wanted top surgery or cross-sex hormones. Nor was there any discussion of the risks involved with these medical treatments.
The following week, on October 24, I had a phone appointment with Rachaell Wood, MFT, a gender specialist with Kaiser Sacramento. The call lasted 15 minutes and consisted of standard questions about potential drug use, domestic violence, guns in the house, and whether I experienced any suicidal thoughts. There were no questions from the gender specialist about my reasons for requesting a mastectomy or cross-sex hormones, or why I suddenly, at 52, decided I was “nonbinary.”
After the call, Kaiser emailed me instructions about how to prepare for my pre-surgery intake video appointment to evaluate my mental health, scheduled to take place on November 15. The email stated that prior to my appointment, I should research hormone risks on the WPATH website, and to “research bilateral mastectomy and chest reconstruction surgery risks and recovery” on Kaiser’s website.
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I decided to request a “gender-affirming” double mastectomy and phalloplasty. Kaiser sent me a sample timeline for gender transition surgery preparation (see below) that you can use as a reference for the process. I also asked for a prescription for cross-sex hormones (testosterone) as needed and recommended by Kaiser.
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[ Source: Kaiser Permanente, Top Surgery - EXPLORING YOUR SURGICAL OPTIONS ]
Pre-Surgery Mental Health Video Appointment, Part I
This “Mental Health Visit” assessment was conducted over Zoom. The Kaiser gender specialist started with questions addressing my marital status, race, gender identity, and other demographics. She asked whether I was “thinking of any other surgeries, treatments in the future.” The list she read included “gender-affirming” hysterectomies, bottom surgeries such as metoidioplasty and phalloplasty, vocal coaching, support groups, and body contouring. “Anything else you might be interested in doing?” she asked. I said that I’d perhaps be interested in body contouring. I was also assured that all the procedures would be covered by insurance because they were considered “medically necessary.”
I dropped in several red flags regarding my mental health to see the reaction, but all were ignored. For instance, I revealed that I had PTSD. When the therapist asked me about whether I had experienced any “childhood trauma,” I explained that I grew up in Mexico City and had been groped several times and had also witnessed men masturbating in public and had been grabbed by men in subways and buses. “I was a young girl, so [I had] lots of experiences of sexual harassments, sexual assault, just the kind of stuff that happens when you are a girl growing up in a big city.” “So, you know,” I finished, “just the general feeling that you are unsafe, you know, in a female body.”
The therapist did not respond to my disclosure that trauma could be the cause of my dysphoria. Instead of viewing this trauma as potentially driving my desire to escape my female body through hormones and surgery, she asked whether there is anything “important that the surgery team should be aware of” regarding my “history of trauma,” such as whether I’d be comfortable with the surgeon examining and marking my chest prior to surgery.
When asked about whether I had had any “psychotic symptoms,” I told her that while I had had no such symptoms, my mother had a delusional nervous breakdown in her 50s because she had body dysmorphia and became convinced she had a growth on her neck that needed to be removed. I told her that my mother was then admitted to an inpatient hospital for severe depression. I asked her whether she ever sees patients with body dysmorphia and whether I could have potentially inherited that from my mother. She told me that psychosis was hereditary, but that it was “highly unlikely” that there was any connection between body dysmorphia and gender dysphoria.
I enthusiastically waved more mental health red flags, waiting to see if she would pick up on any of them.
I’m just wondering if my feelings, or perseverating, or feeling like these breasts make me really unhappy and I just don’t want them anymore!...I’m just not sure if that’s a similar feeling to body dysmorphia? How do you decide which one is gender dysphoria and general body dysmorphia, and just not liking something about your body? Feeling uncomfortable with your body? And I did have an eating disorder all through college. I was a distance runner in college so I had bulimia and anorexia, you know. So I don’t know if that’s related to gender dysphoria?
The therapist replied, “I completely appreciate your concerns, but I am going to ask you questions about your chest, about your expectations. And then I’ll be able to give you an assessment.” She also said the main difference between my mom’s situation and mine was that my mom didn’t really have a growth on her neck, whereas it’s “confirmed” that I actually have “chest tissue.” Furthermore, she said that while “historically there has been all this pressure on patients to be like ‘Are you really, really sure you want hormones? Are you 100% sure?’ We are a little more relaxed.” She continued, “As long as you are aware of the risks and the side-effects, you can put your toe in the water. You can stop ‘T’ [testosterone], you can go back and do it again later! You can stop it! You can stop it! You know what I mean?”
Because we ran out of time, I scheduled a follow-up phone meeting on December 27, 2022 with a different gender specialist to complete my mental health assessment for top surgery.
Pre-Surgery Mental Health Video Appointment, Part II
During this meeting, Guneet Kaur, LCSW, another Kaiser gender specialist (she/her/they/them pronouns) told me that she regretted the “gatekeeping vibe” of the meeting but assured me that since I have been “doing the work,” her questions are essentially just a form of “emotional support” before talking with the medical providers.
She asked me about what I’d been “looking into as far as hormones.” I told her that I’d be interested in taking small doses of testosterone to counterbalance my female feelings to achieve “a feeling that’s kind of neutral.”
When she asked me about me “not feeling like I match on the outside what I feel on the inside,” I dropped more red flags, mentioning my aversion to wearing dresses and skirts.
I don’t own a single dress or a skirt and haven't in 20 years. I think for me it’s been just dressing the way that’s comfortable for me, which is just wearing, jeans and sweatshirts and I have a lot of flannel shirts and, and I wear boots all the time instead of other kinds of shoes. So I think it’s been nice being able to dress, especially because I work from home now most of the time that just a feeling of clothing being one of the ways that I can feel more non-binary in my everyday life.
She responded, “Like having control over what you wear and yeah. Kind of that feeling of just, yeah, this is who I am today. That’s awesome. Yeah.”
She then asked me to describe my dysphoria, and I told her that I didn’t like the “feeling of the female form and being chesty,” and that because I am going through menopause, I wanted to start taking testosterone to avoid “that feeling of being like this apple-shaped older woman.” “Good. Okay, great,” she responded, reminding me that only “top surgery,” not testosterone, would be able to solve my chest dysphoria. (Perhaps it was because all these meetings were online, they didn’t notice I’m actually fit and relatively slender at 5’-5” and 130 pounds, and not apple-shaped at all.)
She told me that we had to get through a few more questions related to my medical history before “we can move on to the fun stuff, which is testosterone and top surgery.”
The “fun stuff” consisted of a discussion about the physical and mood changes I could expect, and her asking me about the dose of testosterone I wanted to take and the kind of “top surgery” technique I’d prefer to achieve my “chest goals.” She told me that all or most of my consultations for surgeries and hormones would be virtual.
The gender specialist told me after the appointment, she would submit my referral to the Multi-Specialty Transitions Clinic (MST) team that oversees “gender expansive care.” They would follow up to schedule a “nursing call” with me to review my medical history, after which they’d schedule my appointment with a surgeon for a consultation. Her instructions for this consultation were to “tell them what you’re wanting for surgery and then they share with you their game plan.”
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[ Decision-making slide to help me identify my goals for top surgery–flat chest, nipple sensation, or minimal scarring. Source: Kaiser Permanente, Top Surgery - EXPLORING YOUR SURGICAL OPTIONS ]
She told me that Kaiser has a team of plastic surgeons who “only work with trans and nonbinary patients because there’s just so much need for them.” She asked about my priorities for chest surgery, such as whether I value flatness over nipple sensation. I learned about double incision top surgery with nipple grafts, as well as “keyhole,” “donut,” “buttonhole,” and “Inverted-T” top surgeries.
By the end of the hour-long appointment, I had my surgery referral and was ready for my “nursing call” appointment.
Nursing call with Nurse Coordinator from the Transgender Surgery and Gender Pathways Clinic at Kaiser San Francisco
On January 19, 2023, I had my nursing call with the Nurse Coordinator. He first said that “the purpose of this call is just for us to go through your chart together and make sure everything’s as accurate as possible.” Once that was done, my referral would be sent to the surgeon for a consultation.
He asked me about potential allergies and recreational drug use, and verified that I was up to date on mammograms, pap smears, and colon cancer screenings, as well as vaccines for flu and COVID. I verified my surgical history as well as my current medications and dietary supplements.
He told me about a “top surgery class” available for patients where one of the Kaiser surgeons “presents and talks about surgical techniques and options within top surgery,” and includes a panel of patients who have had top surgery. I signed up for the February 8th class.
Within 10 minutes he told me that he had “sent a referral to the plastic surgery department at Kaiser Sacramento,” and that I should be hearing from them in the next week or two to schedule a consultation.
Appointment for Testosterone
On January 27, I had a 13-minute online appointment with a primary care doctor at Kaiser Davis to discuss testosterone. The doctor verified my name and preferred pronouns, and then directly asked: “So, what would you like to do? What kind of physical things are you looking for?”
I told her I wanted facial hair, a more muscular and less “curvy” physique, and to feel stronger and androgynous. She asked me when I wanted to start, and I told her in the next few months. She asked me if I was menopausal, whether I had ovaries and a uterus, although that information should have been on my chart.
The doctor said she wanted me to come in to get some labs so she could check my current estrogen, testosterone, and hemoglobin levels before starting hormones. Then “we'll set the ball in motion and you'll be going. We’ll see you full steam ahead in the direction you wanna go.”
That was it. I made an appointment and had my lab tests done on February 12. My labs came back on February 14, and the following day, after paying a $5 copay at the Kaiser pharmacy, I picked up my testosterone pump. That was easy!
Top Surgery Consultation
On the same day I received my labs, I had a Zoom surgery consultation with Karly Autumn-Kaplan, MD, Kaiser Sacramento plastic surgeon. This consultation was all about discussing my “goals” for surgery, not about whether surgery was needed or appropriate.
I told the surgeon that I wanted a “flatter, more androgynous appearance.” She asked me some questions to get a better idea of what that meant for me. She said that some patients want a “male chest,” but that others “want to look like nothing, like just straight up and down, sometimes not even nipples.” Others still wanted their chest to appear slightly feminine and only “slightly rounded.” I told her that I’d like my chest to have a “male appearance.”
“What are your thoughts about keeping your nipples?” she asked. “Are you interested in having nipples or would you like them removed?” I told her that I’d like to keep my nipples, but to make them “smaller in size.” She asked me if I’d like them moved to “the edge of the peck muscle” to achieve “a more male appearance.” I said yes.
I was asked to show my bare chest from the front and side, which I did. Then she asked me how important it was for me to keep my nipple sensation. I replied that it was important unless it would make recovery more difficult or there were other associated risks. She highlighted the problem with the free nipple graft, saying that removing the nipple to relocate it means “you're not gonna have sensation in that nipple and areola anymore.” However, some nipple sensation could be preserved by keeping it attached to “a little stalk of tissue” with “real nerves going to it,” but that would require leaving more tissue behind. I told her I’d go for the free nipple graft to achieve a flatter appearance. It was also suggested I could skip nipple reconstruction entirely and just get nipples “tattooed” directly onto my chest.
She told me I was “a good candidate for surgery,” and put me on the surgery wait list. She said that the wait time was between three and five months, but a cancellation could move me up to a sooner date. Also, if I wanted surgery as soon as possible, I could tell the surgery scheduler that I’d be willing to have any of the other three surgeons perform my mastectomy. Outpatient top surgery would cost me a copay of $100.
They contacted twice, in February and March, notifying me of cancellations. If I had accepted and shown up on those dates, they would have removed my breasts. This would have been less than five months from the time I first contacted Kaiser to inform them of my new “nonbinary” gender identity.
How Far Can I Go?
I decided to see how easy it would be for me to get approved for a phalloplasty. Known euphemistically as “bottom surgery,” phalloplasty is the surgical creation of an artificial penis, generally using tissue from the thigh or arm.
I sent an email on March 1, 2023, requesting to have a phalloplasty and concurrent hysterectomy scheduled alongside my mastectomy.
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Two weeks later, on March 16th, I had a 16-minute phone call with a gender specialist to discuss my goals for bottom surgery and obtain my referral.
During the call, I explained to the specialist that I wasn’t sure about taking testosterone anymore because I was already quite athletic and muscular, and that taking testosterone didn’t make much sense to me. Instead, I wanted bottom surgery so that I wouldn’t feel like my “top” didn’t match my “bottom.” I told her:
But what I really wanted was to have bottom surgery. So this way when I have my top surgery, which sounds like it could be very soon, that I’ll be aligned, that I won’t have this sense of dysphoria with one part of my body and the other part feeling like it matched who I am. So yeah. So I just did a little bit more research into that. And I looked at the resources on the Kaiser page for the MST clinic and I think I know what I want, which is the hysterectomy and then at the same time or soon after to be able to have a phalloplasty.
I told her that I wanted to schedule the top and bottom surgery concurrently so that I wouldn’t have to take more time off work and it would save me trips to San Francisco or Oakland, or wherever I had to go for surgery.
None of this gave the gender specialist pause. After a brief conversation about some online resources to look over, she told me that she would “submit the referral now and we’ll get this ball rolling.”
Bottom surgery would cost me a copay of $200, which included a couple of days in the hospital for recovery.
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Phalloplasty Surgical Consultation with Nurse Coordinator
On May 16, 2023, I had a short surgical consultation with a nurse coordinator to go through my medical history. This was similar to the consultation for top surgery but included information about hair removal procedures for the skin on my “donor site” that would be fashioned into a makeshift penis. They also went over the procedures for determining which donor site—forearm or thigh—was more viable.
After only 15 minutes, she submitted my referral to the surgeon for another surgical consultation.
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On May 25 I received an email from my phalloplasty surgeon’s scheduler, informing me that they have received my referral and are actively working on scheduling, but that they are experiencing delays.
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I ended my investigation here once I had the referral for the top and bottom surgery. I never used my testosterone pump.
Final Thoughts
In fewer than 300 days, based on a set of superficial and shifting thoughts about my gender and my “embodiment goals” triggered by the mere mention of “gender” in a form letter from my primary care physician, and driven by what could only be described as minor discomforts, Kaiser Permanente’s esteemed “multi-disciplinary team” of “gender specialists” was willing, with enthusiasm—while ignoring mental health concerns, history of sexual trauma, and rapidly escalating surgical requests—to prescribe life-altering medications and perform surgeries to remove my breasts, uterus, and vagina, close my vaginal opening, and attempt a complex surgery with high failure and complication rates to create a functionless representation of a penis that destroys the integrity of my arm or thigh in the process.
This describes the supposedly meticulous, lengthy, and safety-focused process that a Kaiser patient must undergo to embark on a journey to medically alter their body. No clinician questioned my motivations. No one showed concern that I might be addressing a mental health issue through radical and irreversible interventions that wouldn’t address my amorphous problems. There were no discussions about how these treatments would impact my long-term health, romantic relationships, family, or sex life. I charted the course. The clinicians followed my lead without question. The guiding issue was what I wanted to look like.
No other medical field operates with this level of carelessness and disregard for patient health and welfare. No other medical field addresses issues of self-perception with surgery and labels it “medically necessary.” No other medical field is this disconnected from the reality of the patients it serves.
Kaiser has traded medicine for ideology. It’s far beyond time we stop the ruse of considering “gender-affirming” interventions as anything approaching medical care.
This isn’t the first time Kaiser Permanente has been in the news for completely disregarding medical safeguards in the name of “gender-affirming care.” As girls, Chloe Cole and Layla Jane became convinced that they were born in the wrong body and were actually boys on the inside. Doctors at Kaiser ignored their underlying conditions and instead prescribed testosterone and removed their breasts. Both Cole and Jane have since detransitioned and are currently suing Kaiser.
The fact that children and vulnerable adults are being exploited in this massive ideological experiment is not just tragic; it’s deeply disturbing, especially considering it has evolved into a billion-dollar industry.
I hope that by sharing my story, I can bring more focused scrutiny to the medical scandal unfolding not just at Kaiser but also at medical centers and hospitals across the Western world. These institutions have completely abandoned medical safeguards for patients who claim to be confused about their “gender,” and I aim to awaken more parents and assist them in protecting their children.
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==
This is completely insane.
Apologists online are running around saying, but she didn't mean it, she was lying, she was pretending...
It doesn't matter.
Any kind of security, penetration or integrity test is insincere too. When security researchers compromise Microsoft's operating system or Google's browser or whatever, "but they didn't mean it" is not a defence to a discovered security flaw. It doesn't matter that the security researchers didn't plan to steal data or money or identities. The flaw in the system is there regardless.
It doesn't matter that it was insincere. Because the workers didn't know that. They never checked, never asked questions, never tested. They had been taught and instructed to never ask any questions. They did what they were supposed to. And the system failed spectacularly. Because that's what "gender affirming care" means.
Additionally, the claim that Beth Bourne committed fraud is an outright lie. A patient cannot bill. They do not have the authority. The medical clinic is the only one that can bill, and they must supply a diagnosis and a medical necessity.
If they didn't diagnose her and just wrote down what she said, then they committed fraud. If they claim they did diagnose her, then they committed fraud, because the diagnosis they concocted was bogus. This, by the way, is actually going on. Clinics are reporting fake endocrine and other disorders to get blockers, hormones and other interventions. Jamie Reed and other whistleblowers have documented evidence of this. Beth Bourne is not responsible for what the clinic does. They have medical licenses and legal responsibility. Not her.
Additionally, anyone who actually read the article would know how she tested the system. She said things like, "I've always been not that feminine. So, maybe I get my boobs removed." And they said, "sure." Instead of saying, "wait, why do you think that?" Framing it as her lying is itself a lie. They violated their ethical obligations. That much is incontrovertible. And it's directly the result of "gender affirming care," where clinics and clinicians rubber-stamp anything deemed "trans" based entirely on ideological, not medical, grounds.
821 notes · View notes
kiesbrainjuice · 4 months ago
Text
— FAV HQ BOYS WITH THIS TREND !
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pr : timeskip!bokuto x fem!reader; timeskip!suna x fem!reader; timeskip!kageyama x fem!reader; nekoma!kuroo x fem!reader; timeskip!atsumu x fem!reader.
syn : you show your boyfriend a trending photo pose. After some playful banter, you both decide to try recreating the pose.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
wc : 3.5k
tw : no noya and kenma :(( suggestive talks and ends, fluff ! credit pic : srkork on insta
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— BOKUTO KOTARO
The lazy Sunday afternoon stretched out before us like a cat in a sunbeam. Outside, the world was alive with the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chatter of neighbors enjoying the warm weather. But inside our cozy apartment, time seemed to slow to a delicious crawl.
Bokuto Koutarou and I were sprawled across our bed, a tangle of limbs and laughter. The late afternoon sun filtered through our fluttering curtains, painting everything in a soft, golden glow. It caught in Bokuto's wild silver hair, making it shine like a haphazard halo. I couldn't help but marvel at how even in this state of complete relaxation, he managed to look like he'd just stepped off a volleyball court – his muscular arm draped over my waist, a reminder of the power coiled within his laid-back frame.
We'd spent the morning in a whirlwind of activity – a impromptu volleyball match with friends that had turned into a picnic, which had then evolved into a competitive round of frisbee. By the time we made it home, we were pleasantly exhausted, content to lounge in comfortable silence.
Now, we were both absorbed in our phones, sharing the occasional meme or funny video. Bokuto's laughter, when it erupted, was like a sudden thunderclap – loud, infectious, and impossible to ignore. It never failed to make me smile, even when I had no idea what had tickled him so.
I was idly scrolling through Pinterest, looking for new recipe ideas (though knowing full well that Bokuto would eat anything I put in front of him with the same enthusiastic gusto), when a particular image caught my eye. It was edgy, provocative, and unlike anything we'd ever tried before.
"Bo," I said, gently nudging his ribs with my elbow. "look at this. It's pretty nice."
He rolled over, nearly crushing me in the process, his golden eyes bright with curiosity. "What's up, babe? Found another cute owl video?"
I shook my head, angling my phone so he could see the screen. "Nah, it's this new photo trend. Check it out."
The image showed a couple taking a selfie, but with a twist. The guy had his arm around the girl's neck, pretending to choke her in what was meant to be an sexy, edgy pose. It was provocative, to say the least.
Bokuto's eyebrows shot up, disappearing into his messy fringe. "Whoa, hold up! Is he trying to choke her or something? That's...weird!"
You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction. You could see the confusion on his face. Bokuto was usually up for anything, but this clearly threw him for a loop. "No, no, it's not real choking," you explained. "It's just for the picture, to make it look sexy and l possessive."
He scratched his head, his expression a mix of bewilderment and amusement. "I dunno, baby… It looks kinda weird. What if I really choke you with those strong arms of mine?"
You turned to face him, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come onnnn, Bo. You could look sexy and scary! You're like a big, cuddly owl."
He puffed out his chest, trying to look offended but failing miserably. "Hey! I can be sexy and scary when I want to be!"
You laughed, poking his cheek. "Sure you can, tough guy. So, do it for me!"
Bokuto's face scrunched up in thought for a moment before breaking into a grin. "Alright, let's do it baby! But if i choke you, we're deleting it and I’m killing myself, okay?"
You grinned back, relieved. "Deal. And hey, if it doesn't work out, do not kill urself please, Bo."
"If you ask!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. "But even if you have the picture don’t post it!"
You couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "Of course I won’t, Bo. Let's start with this and see how it goes."
After your initial attempt, you had an idea. "Hey Bo, let's try using the mirror length for the picture.”
Bokuto's eyes lit up. "Ooh, yeah! We can see more of us that way!"
You scrambled off the bed and positioned yourselves in front of the mirror. It was then that you really noticed what Bokuto was wearing - one of his compression shirts that he usually wore for volleyball practice. The tight black fabric clung to every contour of his muscular torso, accentuating his broad shoulders and defined chest.
You couldn't help but stare for a moment. Even after all this time, the sight of him like this still made your heart race. "Uh, Bo? Have you always looked this good in that shirt?"
He glanced down at himself, then back at you with a mischievous grin. "Oh? Like what you see, huh?"
You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Maybe. Just a little."
Bokuto flexed playfully, striking a pose. "Well, I did just finish a workout this morning. Gotta keep in shape for my number one!"
You laughed, shaking your head. "Alright, muscles, let's focus on the photo. Same pose as the pic?"
He nodded, moving behind you and wrapping his arm around your neck. This time, you could feel the warmth of his chest against my back, the firm pressure of his muscles through the thin fabric of his shirt. It was... distracting, to say the least.
"Ready?"You asked, trying to keep my voice steady as you held up your phone.
"Ready!" Bokuto replied, his breath tickling your ear.
You snapped the picture, capturing your reflection in the mirror. Bokuto's arm was around your neck, his intense "game face" expression in full effect. But what really stood out was the contrast between you both - his powerful, athletic frame in that form-fitting shirt, next to your smaller figure.
As soon as the picture was taken, Bokuto's serious expression melted into a grin. He peered over your shoulder at the phone screen. "Wow! We look good, don't we?"
You nodded, a little breathless. "Yeah, we do. Especially you in that shirt. Maybe you should wear it more often."
Bokuto's grin widened. "Oh? I thought you liked my owl-print t-shirts better…"
You turned in his arms, looking up at him. "Let's just say both have their merits! But right now, I'm definitely appreciating this one."
You handed him the phone to show him the photo you took. his eyes opened wider and he felt quite aroused by the photo of you surrounded by his arm. “w-wow, you turn me on…”
But he tried to get over it and leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. "Noted. So, another picture, or...?"
You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I think we've got enough pictures for now. How about we find something else to do…?"
Bokuto's golden eyes sparkled with mischief. "I might have a few ideas…"
As he leaned in for a kiss you chuckled into it…
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— SUNA RINTAROU
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. The sun was shining bright outside, and a cool breeze was blowing. In your room, everything felt slow and peaceful. It was the kind of quiet that feels good when you're with someone you really like.
Suna, your boyfriend, was lying on your bed, looking relaxed. His eyes were half-closed as he looked at his phone. The sun made his face look nice, showing off his sharp jaw and the small smile on his lips. You couldn't help but stare a little.
You were both doing your own thing, but still felt close. Sometimes Suna would laugh at something on his phone, or you'd say something small. It felt nice and normal. In these quiet times, you felt closest to Suna. He looked softer than usual, and you could see how much he cared even if he didn't say it.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
"baby," you said, breaking the comfortable silence. "look at this."
He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. His eyes, usually half-lidded, showed a flicker of interest. "What's up?"
You showed him the picture on your phone - a couple doing the possessive choking pose with the muscular arm for a selfie. "It's this new photo trend. Kind of sexy, don't you think?"
Suna's eyebrows raised slightly, the most expression you'd seen from him all afternoon. "Huh? Interesting choice for a couples photo…"
You could see the wheels turning in his head as he analyzed the image. Suna was always observant, probably already picking up on details you'd missed.
"Wanna try it?" you asked, a hint of challenge in your voice.
He looked at you, then back at the phone, a small smirk playing on his lips. "You sure about that? I don't think you could pull off the 'dramatically choked' look. You'd probably start laughing."
You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. He knew you too well. "Oh, c’mon. I can be serious when I want to be!"
Suna sat up, his movements fluid and graceful. "Alright, let's see it then. Your ‘serious’ face."
You tried your best to look serious and dramatic, but you could feel your lips twitching, fighting back a smile.
Suna's smirk grew wider. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Very intimidating."
You grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him, which he easily dodged. "It’s your fault, your face makes me laugh! How about you show me how it's done?"
He shrugged, but you could see a glimmer of competitive spirit in his eyes. "Well thanks…” he sighed and raised his eyebrows ”And sure, why not. Could be interesting."
You positioned yourselves in front of the mirror. Suna stood behind you, his arm loosely draped around your neck. Even in this silly pose, you could feel the quiet strength in his lean muscles.
"Ready?" you asked, holding up your phone.
Suna nodded, his face transforming into an intense, focused expression that you usually only saw during volleyball matches. It was almost unnerving how quickly he could switch it on.
You snapped the picture, capturing your reflection. Suna's intense muscular arm bore into the camera, a stark contrast to your slightly flustered expression.
As soon as the picture was taken, Suna's arm relaxed back into its usual demeanor. He peered at the phone screen over your shoulder.
"Not bad," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Though I think we just proved my point about your serious face, baby."
You elbowed him gently in the ribs. "shut up. Not everyone can go from zero to intimidating in half a second like you."
He wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. "It's a gift," he deadpanned, but you could hear the smile in his voice.
You leaned back into him, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. "So, what do you think? Should we post it?"
Suna was quiet for a moment, considering. "Nah," he finally said. "Let's keep this one just for us. It's more sexy that way."
You smiled, turning in his arms to face him. "You know, for someone who acts so aloof, you can be pretty sweet sometimes."
He rolled his eyes, but you caught the faint blush on his cheeks. "Don't go spreading that around. I have a reputation to maintain. And look at you in my so-muscular arm…"
As you leaned in to kiss him, “I look pretty hot like that…”
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— TOBIO KAGEYAMA
It was a rare day off from volleyball practice. You and Tobio were in your living room, trying to relax. The TV was on, playing a volleyball match, but neither of you was really watching. Tobio sat on the couch, his posture a bit stiff, eyes darting between his phone and the TV screen.
"baby," you said, gently nudging his arm. "look at this."
He turned to you, his intense blue eyes focusing. "What is it?"
You showed him your phone screen - a picture of a couple doing the possessive choking pose for a selfie. "It's a new photo trend. Kind of sexy, right?"
Tobio's brow furrowed as he stared at the image. "Why would anyone want a picture like that?" he asked bluntly.
You couldn't help but smile at his typical straightforward response. "I guess some people think it looks sexy or possessive, like me. Want to try it? Just for fun?"
He looked confused for a moment. "Is this important to you?"
"Noooo," you admitted. "I just thought it might be fun to see how it turns out. Be please baby!"
Tobio hesitated, then nodded with a sigh. "Okay. If it'll make you happy..."
You both stood up and moved in front of the mirror. Tobio proudly put his muscular arm around your neck, and started flexing to show off his muscles, which made you chuckle a bit.
"Tobio, can you hold less tight," you said, a hint of teasing in your voice. "I know already how you are muscular, don’t worry baby."
He adjusted his grip slightly, his face a mix of concentration and redness. "L-like this?"
"Perfect. Now pose for me, baby."
Tobio's expression immediately changed to his game face - eyes sharp and focused, jaw set. It was almost scary how quickly he could switch it on.
You snapped the picture quickly. As soon as it was done, Tobio dropped his arm and stepped back, looking relieved.
Looking at the photo, you couldn't help but chuckle. Tobio's intense muscular and flexed arm next to your slightly amused smile was quite a sight.
"What's so funny?" Tobio asked, peering at the screen while chuckling.
"Just us, baby," you said, still smiling. "We look so serious. It's kind of sexy actually, don't you think?"
Tobio's cheeks turned slightly pink. "It's... different," he mumbled. "But I like how you are in my arm like that..."
You felt a warmth in your chest at his honesty. "Me too, baby. How about we take a nice, cozy pic now?"
He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Okay. But no more weird poses."
As you cuddled up to take a regular selfie, you kissed his cheek “I love you, Tobio.”
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— KUROO TETSURO
It was a lazy Saturday afternoon at training camp. You were sitting on the grass outside the gym, enjoying a brief respite from the intense volleyball practices. Kuroo sauntered over, his trademark messy hair even more disheveled than usual, and flopped down beside you with a dramatic sigh.
"Exhausted already, captain?" you teased, poking his side.
He flashed you his signature smirk. "Me? Never. Just giving the others a chance to catch up."
You rolled your eyes fondly. "Sure, keep telling yourself that. Hey, check this out."
You showed him your phone screen - a picture of a couple doing the possessive choking pose for a selfie. "It's some new photo trend. Pretty hot, huh?"
Kuroo's eyes lit up with mischief. "Oh? Trying to tell me something, kitten? Didn't know you were into that kind of thing..."
You felt your cheeks heat up as he leaned close to your face, brushing your lips with his at the end of his sentence. "Tetsu! It's not like that. It's just supposed to be…artistic or whatever."
He chuckled, leaning in closer. "Relax, I'm just teasing. Though I gotta say, it does look nice for us. Wanna try?"
You blinked, surprised by his enthusiasm. "Really? You don't think it's too weird?"
Kuroo shrugged, his smirk softening into a genuine smile. "Hey, I'm always up for trying new things with you! Plus, it could be fun to mess with the team later."
You couldn't help but laugh. "You're impossible. Alright, let's do it and my arm is muscular, I could show you..."
You both stood up and moved to a nearby wall. Kuroo positioned himself behind you, his flexed arm draped around your neck. You could feel the warmth of his chest against your back, and it was... distracting, to say the least.
"Ready?" he murmured, his breath tickling your ear when he leaned down just to adjust right after.
You nodded, trying to keep your composure as you held up your phone. "Okay, try to look hot."
“Try?? I don’t even need to try!” He acted offended. Kuroo's expression immediately transformed into his focused game face, the one that always sent shivers down opponents' spines. It was almost unnerving how quickly he could switch it on.
You snapped the picture, then turned in Kuroo's arms to look at it together. The contrast between his muscular arm and your slightly flustered expression was striking.
"Well, well," Kuroo said, his voice low and teasing. "Looks like my arm is so hot, don't you think? Though I gotta say, you look hot under the collar there, kitten. Was it something I did?"
You elbowed him gently, but couldn't help smiling. "Oh, shut up. You're such a tease."
He laughed, pulling you closer. "You love it though, admit it, baby."
You leaned into him, enjoying his warmth. "Maybe. But don't let it go to your head. It's big enough as it is."
Kuroo gasped in mock offense. "My head is perfectly proportional, thank you very much. Anyway, now I can show to everyone that you’re mine…"
He kissed your lips with hunger, but you pushed him back gently. “Not here…”
He took your hand and brings you up, the silly photo forgotten for the moment.
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— ATSUMU MIYA
The MSBY Black Jackals' training facility was quieter than usual, the usual squeaks of shoes on polished floors and the thunderous impacts of spikes replaced by a lazy afternoon lull. Most of the team had already left for the day, their energy spent on grueling drills and practice matches. The air still held a faint scent of sweat, mingled with the sharp tang of air salonpas.
You had been waiting for what felt like hours, alternating between watching Atsumu's extra practice through the gym windows of the lounge area and idly scrolling through your phone. It was a familiar routine - Atsumu pushing himself just a little further, always chasing that perfect set, while you patiently waited, a silent pillar of support. The sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows across the lounge area where you sat, when you finally heard the telltale sound of the gym doors opening and Atsumu's distinctive footsteps approaching.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
"Oi, still hanging around?" he called out, a smirk playing on his lips.
You looked up, matching his smirk. "Someone's gotta make sure you don't overwork yourself, the Pro Athlete."
Walking behind you to give you a shoulder massage for a few seconds and kiss you on the mouth from behind, he stopped by to sit on the sofa in the lounge next to you to cuddle slightly.
Atsumu plopped down next to you, peering at your phone. "Whatcha looking at? Better not be Tobio-kun's serves again."
You snorted. "As if. No, look at this trend."
You showed him the picture of the couple doing the possessive choking pose. Atsumu's eyebrows shot up.
"Well, ain't that something," he drawled. "People really do anything for likes these days, huh?"
"Says the guy who spent an hour perfecting his hair for his official team photo," you retorted.
Atsumu clutched his chest in mock hurt. "Your wounds cut deep, ya know that?"
You laughed, then had an idea. "Hey, we should try it."
"Try what? You wanna make out here, huh?" Atsumu looked skeptical but was ready to jump on you if you nodded, which you didn’t.
"The pose, dummy. Could be funny."
Atsumu's eyes glinted with mischief. "Oh? You want me to manhandle you for the 'gram? Kinky."
You felt your face heat up as you gently push his head of your shoulder to face him. "Shut up, 'Tsumu. You in or not?"
"'Course I'm in. Can't let my baby down, can I?"
You both stood up, moving to a clear wall. Atsumu positioned himself behind you, his flexed arm tight around your neck.
"Ready when you are, darlin'," he murmured close to your ear.
You suppressed a shiver. "Okay, press."
Atsumu's arm pressed your cheeks and flexed his muscles. You snapped the picture quickly before you could faint from blushing.
Looking at it together, you couldn't help but laugh. "We look ridiculous."
"Speak for yerself," Atsumu retorted. "I look dashingly hot."
You elbowed him playfully. "Your ego is showing, 'Tsumu."
He grinned, pulling you closer. "Ya love it though."
As you leaned into him, he carried you like a princess to the lounge sofa: he had locked the door…
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pic :
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Ⓡ kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !
tag : @haechansbbg
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sentimentalbeing2001 · 6 months ago
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I find myself stuck between my girlhood and what it means to be an adult. I crave my independence to dream without any boundaries, yet, I still long for the safety of being carried to bed by my dad. After a long day of dancing to my parents ring tones from their flip phones. Can I hold on to a piece of both? I don’t want to stop tending to the afraid little girl inside me. The girl that grips to everything so tightly that she forgets to breathe. We weren’t taught how to let go, we just have to pray enough that the longing for that thing goes away. At such a young age, I remember feeling so deeply. I wouldn’t know where to place such intensity. I am evolving. I am learning to not feel threatened by the delicacy of my heart, that reminds me that I am living. Maybe I will always be a girl in disguise as a woman. For as long as I live.
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bonny-kookoo · 11 months ago
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Jungkook
𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 [Teaser]
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In which Jungkook really only went to earth to take home his new pet- but ends up leaving with a lot more than that.
Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Ocean theme, very wet planet, bioluminescence, sci-fi, Romance, strangers to lovers, God this ended up WAY softer and fluffier than I thought it would, Fluff, Kook is tall and buff but sometimes fails to realize that, a pet shark named Custard, another pet shark named Noodle, more TBA
Length: unknown yet, teaser is ~700 words
-> Masterlist
A/N: a silly idea I had because of fellow fish enthusiast @euphoricfilter
━━━━━━━━━━.~°🩵°~.━━━━━━━━━━━
“I’m pretty sure they’ll get along great.” Jungkook smiles. “Of course I’ll have to slowly familiarize the two- but Custard is very sweet, she’s just sometimes a bit moody.” He explains to you, who watches the other shark in the tank with him as he’s being fed by a caretaker.
“I heard they’re a.. popular pet.” You mention, and Jungkook nods.
“Yeah! I initially wanted a lemon shark first, but then things changed, and I got custard first.” He shrugs. “Which I think might have been a good thing, considering that lemon sharks are said to get jealous easily if not properly socialized. It’s easier to introduce them to an already established shark than have them first and get them comfortable with a new one.” The alien explains, watching his new pet swim around.
“You know a lot about them.” You say, and he chuckles a bit bashful.
“I uh- not really. I just.. wanted to know what I’d be getting myself into. A pet is a big responsibility. “ He explains to you, and you nod.
“I swam with lemon sharks before.” You mention. “they’re pretty cute, but.. a bit chaotic sometimes.” You giggle, remembering the time, and how overwhelmed you’d gotten as the sharks had began playfully fighting over attention of you and the other divers.
“So you’re a good swimmer?” He asks curiously, standing next to you in front of the gigantic tank that holds his chosen pet inside, the young shark swimming around for now, while he’s being prepared for the newer conditions soon to become his permanent home.
“..decent.” You laugh a bit uneasy. “I.. nowhere near, you know, your skills.” You say, and he laughs.
“Oh that’s- like comparing clams with mussels. It’s not the same- just looks similar. Like us!” He shrugs off. “I think you’re under-selling yourself. And even if you’re not a good swimmer- I could teach you!” He offers, making you look up from where you stand near the glass.
"I'm just.. still a bit scared." You admit. "You know, after all that happened. I don't think I could just.. forget that and just.." you sigh, and he gently bumps your shoulder.
"Hey.. no one's asking you to." He tells you. "It just might be a good chance to face your fears? And I'll always be right at your side. I have an underwater license after all!" He proudly reminds you, and you can't help but laugh.
“You really seem like you really want me to visit your planet.” You tease, though he clearly doesn’t take it as a joke- nodding with almost cute enthusiasm.
“Of course! You said you always wanted to- so why not do it while visiting a friend?” He proposes. “it’s safer than just going alone. You could get lost, or even hurt.” He tells you. “and you’d miss out on.. you know, the spots only locals know.” Jungkook says, before he looks as Noodle swims closer again to inspect something floating around.
“I mean, you’re right..” you mumble, watching the shark move around. “…but I don’t know. I don’t think I could.. really.. I’m still just human.” You tell him, and he nods.
“I’m aware.” He responds. “and my planet has already made many adjustments to accommodate humans in many areas. You seem to forget that my kind has been.. mixing with humans for a long time by now. “ He chuckles. “means we had to evolve too, and change some of our architecture and stuff to adapt to those changes.” He says.
He’s right. And, in a way, he’s a living example of that change- with his honestly surprisingly human appearance, minus the height difference, and the hardly visible stripes of his skin.
“so, if you’d like, I’d happily house you for your vacation on my planet.” He grins. “and we can see just how well you swim.” He teases, leaning down a bit towards you before you both leave the large hall containing the tank for his new pet-
And you feel like this won’t just be a vacation at all, considering that he’s made it clear that he’s found interest in you past just simply being friends.
And in a way, you don’t mind that one bit.
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crazilust · 6 months ago
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Analyzing celebrities’ fashion according to their venus signs (pt.1)
I believe you can tell alot about someone just by looking at the clothes they've choose to wear. Let's analyze different celebrities' fashion and their venus sign (as well as the degree they're in) and give you some advice on how you can incorporate it in your own fashion style.
Aries venus
Audrey Hepburn
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Even though we associate Aries venus with a very flamboyant style (and trust me, they can be and most of them are), I found important to put Audrey Hepburn as an example of someone who’s mastered the minimal, elegant fashion. Aries are very determinate and passionate individuals and once they have their eyes set on something, they’ll achieve it at all cost. I found it relevant in Hepburn’s style, because to me she achieved the quintessential minimalist fashion. She was able to balance being minimal while not being boring and basic, while staying true to herself. I think that’s one of the main strength of Aries venuses. They have to stay true to themselves, and when they do, they’re able to master their own fashion sense.
Also interesting to note that her venus is in a capricorn degree, which could also explain the more minimalist route.
Lady Gaga
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On the other side of the spectrum, we’ve got Lady Gaga who also represents Aries venus perfectly. Her ability to tell a story with her clothes has become something we know and associate her for. Again, even if it’s completely different to Hepburn’s, you can still very much see Gaga’s need to be authentic to herself. Her style is a bit more tone down (see picture on the top right), but it’s still close to who she is as a person. It just evolved. Her willingness to be weird and over the top despite the constant misunderstanding of others and nagging, demands a lot of bravery and if that's not an Aries venus in a nutshell, I don't know what it is.
Her venus is in a Piscean degree (24), which could explain her intrinsic desire to use fashion as an art form and always push its boundaries.
Final take
If I were an Aries venus, I would take a long time reflecting on what I truly like, what type of person I am and how I want to be seen before buying anything. I would forget the trends and start investing in personal development in order to see how I could translate that into my clothes. Am I more a lowkey, mysterious kind of person? Flamboyant and over the top? The moment I’d be able to choose at least three words to describe me, I’d start building my closet around them and remind myself that I can go to extremes if I damn wanted to.
Taurus venus
Princess Diana
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As a fellow Taurus venus, I’d be lying if I said that Princess Diana is not one of my main inspiration. To me, she represents perfectly what Taurus venus is all about. Simplicity, elegance and effortlessness. There’s a simplicity here, an ease that is very admirable from Princess Diana. It’s almost like she just threw this on but looks phenomenal as a result. It’s polished, but not forced at all and that’s where Taurus’ strength lies. Making it look easy. I also added her biker short outfit to represents Taurus’ need for comfort, but why not make it look cute? Also monochromatic looks to add that touch of put togetherness.
With her venus in 24 degrees (Pisces), we notice her tendency to break the mold and transcend beyond people's expectations. With today's eyes, it doesn't seem that groundbreaking, but at the time, and especially for a Royal, it was cra-zy (also the first one to be known for her fashion!)
Prince
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What I wanted to focus on by putting Prince is his sensuality that I feel is overlooked alot when we talk about Taurus Venus. Or it's taken for granted almost. They have this little je-ne-sais-quoi that is so attractive and again, so effortless. Prince mastered this aspect so much and I find it very interesting. His clothes were a direct translation of how he felt about himself. Showing a little skin there, some see-through blouse here. Nothing extremely vulgar, but you get the message. I also wanted to put him there because whenever we think of Taurus venus celebrities, we always reference the most stereotypical ones like Ariana Grande and Lana del Rey. They most obviously embody the Venusian energy, but if you don't like this aesthetic, you can definitely be a little bit more out there just like Prince did.
With his venus in 7 degree, being a Libra degree, Prince was doubling down on his venusian energy, amping up the charm and sensuality while still being seen as charming.
Final take
What I would do (and should start to do actually) as a Taurus venus is focus on the quality of the clothes I put on my body, no matter the aesthetic or fashion choices. At the end of the day, Taurus look fabulous and effortlessly glam, but in order to enhance this trait, it's going to be important to invest in quality pieces in order to emanate this energy. I understand that not everybody wants to invest in clothes, but there's many ways you can do this without breaking the bank : thrift stores, depop, vinted (it might just take longer). Some signs can get away with cheap clothes, distressed clothing, but as Taurus venus, it definetely looks messy and not necessarily in a cute, grunge way lol.
Gemini venus
Margot Robbie
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To my surprise, there's actually a lot of supermodels or sex icons/bombshells who possess a Gemini Venus. I say to my surprise, because I always see Geminis as kind of quirky, but it's true, they do embody the perfect balance of being hot but approachable (the twins archetype after all). It's like they can very well be the nerdy shy girl and the bombshell the next minute. I think you can actually see that in Margot Robbie's style where it's very Girl-Next-Door, but with an edge. The monochromatic pink look is to die for but switch the palette for a neutral look, platform for regular slippers and it's not as eye-catching. Without these two small details, you get a very basic look. I would've expected flamboyance, but from what I saw from these celebrities (ex: Kristen Bell, Sandra Bullock) is that they really embody the Model Off Duty vibes, where everything they put has a little edge to it while still appearing very approachable and mainstream. Which, when we think about it, is very reminiscent of Geminis.
Her Venus being in a Leo degree (8) could explain her tendency to want to be extra, lean more on the glamorous side and wear monochromatic colourful outfits
Megan Fox
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Another route you could choose, as Megan Fox did, is to go push that Cool Girl fashion all the way and experiment fully with your closet, mixing and matching pieces with different textures and colours. Fox has always been known for her sex appeal and you can definitely see that in her fashion choices in the beginning of her career, but as of lately, she's been more avant-garde with her choices and honestly more fun. She definitely reminds me of the cool girls in my town walking around like they're just out of the fashion magazine, not giving a F about anything and you can't help but notice them.
Her venus is in 23 degrees, which is an Aquarius degree and could definitely explain her tendency to explore different styles and play with colours. Being very experimental.
Final take
What I would do if I were a Gemini Venus, is that I would learn my colours, my signature style and what goes best for my silhouette in order to put forward my best features. While this can be said for anyone, I think Gemini Venus is still very well thought out and in order to give that illusion of "I just got up", you're gonna have to know what makes you pop. As opposed to Taurus, for example, who can just rock an oversized hoodie and some boots and make it look elegant because that's what their energy gives off, Gemini is going to have to work a little bit harder. Experiment. Alot !
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That's it from me folks, I'll post part 2 containing Cancer, Leo and Virgo venus very soon :)
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bettyfrommars · 11 months ago
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Dirty Metal Summer
a Dirty Dancing au
Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry
Eddie x fem!Reader
MASTERLIST PLAYLIST
It's 1987, the same year the movie Dirty Dancing was originally released. 21-year-old reader is spending the summer with her dad and aunt at an all-inclusive resort in Indiana while she figures out what she wants to do with her life. After that summer, nothing will never be the same. Eddie is in his late 20’s and works as maintenance staff, he is also the frontman for the house band, begrudgingly delivering top 40 hits for the guests, and a secret third thing. When work is over, there is a completely different scene happening at a place the employees call The Hideout. Wayne is the head maintenance man, Chrissy is a metalhead, and a few other surprises. Bonus: Steve as a sexy, tattooed musician because I can't help myself.
my blog is always 18+only, MDNI please. The only warnings for the first chapter have to do with mention of a death of a parent, mention of grief, allusions to depression, a tiny bit of aggression, and alcohol consumption. But please read chapter warnings as the story progresses, because there will be angst, hurt/comfort, violence (fighting), and smut. Reader is called Bird as a nickname.
A/N: this is a rewrite of an OC fic I wrote over a year ago, and damn, I really needed to change a lot because my writing has evolved so much. I know I posted a snippet last week, but it's all been changed. Thank you to those who have been excited about this, I know Dirty Dancing is a cherished film, so I am treating this retelling with reverence, while adding some creative spins, and I truly hope you enjoy. The ST characters in this fic do not know each other in the same way they did in the show. For instance, Eddie, Steve, and Chrissy all grew up together, but I do my best to stick with their original character traits. This first part lines up very close with the film, but after that, it diverges and becomes a bit different. Same story line, but also not.
Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry
word count: 6.3k
The soft murmur of a talk radio station hummed in the cement gray Mercedes-Benz 560, with your dad behind the wheel and his sister, your aunt Kim, in the passenger seat.  From the backseat, you stared out the window with your headphones on, wishing for rain.  The scenery was what you would expect from a place on earth that everyone considered idyllic, but you’d been exposed to so much lush greenery with that bright blue, theater backdrop of a sky for the last hour that you were starting to get a headache. 
You pushed your wayfarer sunglasses up to rub the bridge of  your nose, and then flipped the tape over in your Walkman before clicking it shut to press play.  You were listening to a mixtape you’d made especially for the trip, the spine even said “road trip from hell”, but the first one on side b was Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac, and you closed your eyes for the next several songs.  You were doing your best not to think about how you’d be trapped in BFE Indiana for a whole month.
You were also doing your best not to think about how your mother would not be home when you got back, or worse yet, the fact that you would never see her again.  Never feel her generous hugs in those Laura Ashley dresses, smelling of Shalimar; never hear her voice at the other end of the line reminding you to eat something.  
Your aunt said your name and your eyes snapped open.  It was perfect timing because tears were beginning to form at your lash line. She had turned around in her seat and was trying to get your attention.
You pulled your headphones down around your neck.  “Sorry?”
“The lake,” the expression on her face harbored more excitement than you’d ever felt in your entire life.  “Isn’t it gorgeous? We’re going to get pedicures at the spa tomorrow, I already booked it.”
You glanced at your father’s stoic profile and then back to Kim. You felt bad for your aunt, getting stuck on a trip with two sad, mopey fucks who were too depressed to get excited about the things that thrilled normal people.  You were the walking wounded.
“Pedicures, great,” your smile did not reach your eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice, as her enthusiasm doggedly refused to wane.  
It had been almost four months since you lost her, and the world was still too…bright.  Everyone was so talkative and alive and you couldn’t relate. 
You looked out over the smooth expanse of lake that was nestled perfectly in the trees like you were in some type of miniature scale model rebuild of a town.  Your aunt asked your dad, Owen, if he was still listening to the news, and when he shook his head, she changed the radio station to a golden oldies station and was satisfied with the tune Big Girls Don’t Cry by Frankie Vallie.
“You’ll love this cabin, Bird,” your dad said to you as the Mercedes crested the hill and began to maneuver down to your destination on a narrow, two-lane highway flanked with towering trees.  A big green and white sign welcomed them to Hawkins Landing.  “There’s a whole top floor where you can set up for your lessons.”
You turned away, back to the window, hiding the way your nose wrinkled.  You thought maybe a perk of this getaway would be to have a break from practicing the cello you’d been tied to for over a decade, but no luck.  He’d been forced to give up his dream of being a musician, and now you were expected to carry the torch for him.  
You tried to come up with one thing you did in life that was not to please someone else, or boost some idea they had about you, and couldn’t come up with squat.
Besides reading.  And taking long walks with music to clear your head.  Those two were yours, and they could only be taken from your cold, dead, hands.
From the Hawkins Landing brochure your aunt had given you, it was clear that the property was enormous.  Some 30 or 40 guest cabins scattered around, a main house that functioned as a hotel but also housed two different restaurants.  A golf course, boat rentals, tennis courts, an outdoor theater, and a third restaurant situated on the water.  Along with the full service spa, there were indoor and outdoor swimming pools, plus any class you could imagine wanting to take, from salsa dancing and water skiing, to chess and crochet. 
Hawkins Landing was like a camp for adults who enjoyed alcoholic beverages.
There was a security checkpoint at the main entrance with two guards inside.  The taller one with the neatly trimmed red beard recognized your father from the jacket cover on one of his many books.  Thrillers mostly, horror if you squint.  He nervously asked for an autograph, but Owen was very polite, adjusting his tortoise shell glass as he took the black marker that the guard was offering him.  
After the checkpoint, it wasn’t long before the road opened into an expansive rose garden with a large fountain dead center, and the big main house with its wrap-around porch just to the right.  You pushed your sunglasses up to get a look at the people mingling around, getting the idea that the median age there was 45, and it was mostly families.  
The guards had given your dad a foldout map of the property and told him to check in at the main house to get the keys to the cabin they were staying in. The car moved at a crawl at the roundabout, and then came to park where a sign announced new guest check-ins.  
Your dad told you to sit tight while he went in to grab the keys, and your attention trailed off to a black golf cart with a white awning that wheeled in like a racecar and took position in front of the Mercedes.  It sat there close to the curb, idling.  You could see there was a woman behind the wheel, and she was looking straight ahead, giving you her profile.  Chin length, dark gold hair, just long enough for a ponytail, and the words “Hawkins Landing Staff” written in yellow cursive on the back of her navy blue jacket.  Where her sleeve was pushed up at her elbow, you noticed some type of tattooed lettering there, and her fingernails were painted black.  
Up ahead, you caught sight of someone strolling down the sidewalk toward the car with a hand in his pocket. It was a guy with honey tipped chocolate hair styled in a pompadour with a curl that bounced at his forehead, wearing tan chinos and a maroon, button down short sleeve with the square bulge of a pack of smokes in his front pocket. A tattoo peeked out from the V of his shirt, and there was another design on his bicep. He wore a pinky ring on one hand and rolled a toothpick around in his mouth as he sidled up to the golf cart to say something to the woman driving it.  They bumped knuckles and talked for a bit like they were very familiar, him with one foot up on the running board of the cart.
“Steve, there you are,” from the open window, your attention bounced to a short, dark haired woman who’d just come out of the building and stood alongside your dad on the sidewalk.  A closer look told you that her name tag said Joyce.  
The guy with the toothpick in his mouth straightened, smoothing the front of his shirt with his hand.  “Hey Joyce, I was just—”
Apparently uninterested in what he was about to say, she took him by the crook of the arm.  She introduced you all by your family name, and let him know that you were “her special guests”, and you assumed that had to do with your dad being a famous author, or maybe she said that about every new family.  While you chose to not do much else than offer a small wave from the back seat like you had no autonomy, Kim got out to greet them properly.
“This is Steve,” Joyce gestured to him with a Vanna White hand. “If you ever want to take guitar lessons this summer, he’s one of our best.”
“Or, if you just want to have some fun,” Steve’s eyes seemed to be searching Kim’s face, and then he shrugged. “I mean, I run the boats on the dock too, so if you want to ski or—”
Kim got flustered and tried to find her words, fussing with the lapel of her corduroy jacket in a way you’d never witnessed before. “I’m…I mean, sure, who wouldn’t want to be on the lake at a place like this?”
Kim hated boats and got seasick very easily, so you found her new interest amusing.   
Joyce politely waved Steve off and he went, albeit reluctantly, backing up with slow steps to wave farewell.  The smile stretching across his face grew wider the longer Kim couldn’t take her eyes off of him. When he was finally jogging up the sidewalk to get to where he needed to be, Joyce continued to try and sell Kim and your dad on the resort, even though you were already booked for the month. 
“Sunday night is Bingo night. There’s karaoke in The Antler Room on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and you need to check out our house band if you can.  They’re playing tonight on the back patio, and the rhythm guitar is sensational.  She used to perform with Vixen and Lita Ford,” she handed over the necessary keys and pointed the way to get to the cabin on the map.  
“Just follow us,” Joyce said, hopping into the golf cart next to the girl with the forearm tattoo.  
They led the way down a long, winding stretch with lush lawn and manicured hedges on either side, littered with people coming up from the pool in their bathing suits.  There appeared to be a Tai Chi lesson happening on the lawn near the rose garden, and some type of painting class going on just above them on a balcony.  
Made you wonder why summer people always had to stay so busy.
The cabin you’d be staying in was down a side road, tucked at the end of a private driveway with a view of the lake. It had five bedrooms, which was more than enough, but one of them would immediately turn into Owen’s writing room so that he could work on his latest novel.  
You were careful to tuck your Walkman into your bag as the Mercedes coasted into its parking spot.  Squinting up at the place, you were somewhat distracted by how much you liked the creepy, old feel of the whitewashed cabin, and you underestimated how far from the curb you were when you stepped out, stumbling to the side.  
The girl with the forearm tattoo caught you in both arms, preventing you from putting all of your weight on your twisted ankle.
“Whoa,” she moved her supportive grip from your waist to your elbow as you righted yourself.  “You okay?”
Your heart shot into your throat, and then you coughed a laugh, covering your face. “What a way to start the summer.”
She said her name was Robin, and there was a polite handshake exchange. She tripped over her words a bit.  “It’s not every day that someone falls for me.”
“Well, I’m pretty clumsy, you might need to stay close,” and the two of you shared a self-conscious laugh as you led the way to the trunk full of baggage.  
When you reached in to grab your suitcase, Robin teased, “hey, that’s my job,” before leaning further in to take the oddly shaped black hard case, the satin of her jacket skimming your arm. She struggled with it at first, but then held it up by the handle and gave you a sideways look.
“This yours?” She asked, cocking one eyebrow up. “You’re a musician?”
“No, well, yes I am but no I, I play the cello,” you stammered, not sure why it was hard to get the words out. “But here, I can carry that. It’s big and heavy and—”
Robin winked.  “I got it,” and then she snatched another suitcase with the other hand and shuffled by you to make her way up to the porch.  
Once you were all settled inside and Joyce had explained all of the amenities, you and Kim pushed back the curtains and watched the two go from the living room window. Just before they took off in the cart, Robin sent you a wave.
“She looks like a nice girl,” Kim had her arms folded over her chest. “Maybe the two of you could—”
“I know you’re worried about me, okay, but I don’t need to make any friends this summer,” you were holding the case for your cello in front of you with both hands, using it as a metaphorical barrier. “I like being alone.”
By the time you put your stuff away in the bedroom you’d be staying in, your dad was already typing away in his writing room, you could hear the keys of his Selectric click-clacking.  
“I’ll be back in a bit,” you called across the rustic but spacious cabin living room.  “I’m going to look around the main house.”
Kim barely caught your words as she was struggling with her glasses to read an ingredient label as she put some dry goods away in the kitchen.  “Mhmm sounds good, have fun. Be back in time for dinner, we have reservations at…whatever that place is called. Your dad knows.”
You tapped the Swatch on your wrist and gave an absent wave over your shoulder.
With your headphones on, you made your way down to the main sidewalk that split off in two directions, bordering either side of the swimming pool and tennis courts.  You found the bike path that wound down along the lake to the boat dock, and then up into a lush pocket of dense forest.  Two teenage girls on rollerblades almost crashed into you as they bolted around the bend, giggling.  Trying to decide if you wanted to go toward the water or into the woods, you watched a staff member veer off onto an uneven stone pathway and your curiosity was piqued.
Creeping along in their wake, you marched up a hill for what felt like forever, with Bring on the Dancing Horses by Echo and the Bunnymen playing in your ears, until you realized with a start that you’d already arrived at the main building.  It loomed up ahead like a mansion from some old gothic romance novel. 
You continued to plod your way along the trunks of trees, until you spotted a group having a chat on the wide porch, and took a few steps back.
They were all leaning against the railing in a semicircle, facing each other,  so that you could see the Hawkins Landing Staff on the back of a few of their navy jackets.  
One of them was Steve from earlier, next to him was a girl with a blonde ponytail, and then two others.  
“I met that author guy today,” Steve took a drag and then blew the smoke up in the air, away from everyone’s face.  “The one who wrote Darkness on the Hill, that one they made into a movie.”
You realized that it was your dad he was talking about. 
Not looking where you were stepping, you caught your toe on a tree root and your arms windmilled before you were able to find your balance, floundering to duck behind another tree.  Your mouth opened in a silent scream, trying not to gasp at the pain in your foot.  Grimacing, you turned the volume down on the headphones that were around your neck to better hear what they were saying.
“That actor from that one show about law and order is staying in cabin 8,” the girl with the ponytail said.  “Housekeeping says he finishes a bottle of whiskey a night.”
But then, there was another voice. “Now that sounds like a great fucking vacation to me,” followed by the heavy footfalls of boots on wood as a new person approached the group.
The sight of the new arrival made you feel like your brain was wiped clean—-the whole world came to a screeching halt.
Swallowing hard, all of your attention tunneled on him; his long dark hair with bangs that crowded his eyes, a thin but muscular build, tattoos scattered over his exposed arms, and a leather jacket hooked over his shoulder with one finger. He combed a hand through his hair as he walked, chunky metal rings catching the light, and headed over to the blonde girl.  You took note of every movement as she passed him her half-smoked cig and he gave her a quick kiss on the temple.  
Was that his girlfriend?
He stepped back to introduce the younger guy he had with him.  “This Jamie, my new maintenance trainee,” he used the hand holding his smoke to point to each one on the balcony individually.  You really didn’t pay attention until he got to the blonde one.  “...that one there is the lovely Chrissy, and the moody one with the hairy chest is Steve.  They’re the other musicians I told you about.”
Jamie had short black, curly hair and a hoop piercing in one ear.  He lit his own smoke while the metalhead started in with a story about a pump exploding at the pool house, complete with wild hand gestures.  
“Hey, there the fuck you are.  I’ve been looking everywhere for you losers.”
Another voice, another person making their way down the long stretch of squeaky wood planks from the front of the building.  You stepped closer, snapping a twig under your foot, eliciting a worried lip bite.
Everyone stayed right where they were, but for Eddie who moved in front of Jamie in a protective way.  The guy approaching at a stroll had very nondescript good looks with his wheat blonde hair in a tight cut that looked freshly trimmed.  While the others were dressed more casually, this one wore a white dress shirt and tie with black trousers, as if he had some fancy place to be.
“You talking to me?” The metalhead flicked his cigarette ash and stepped forward to meet the new guy before he could come any closer to the group. “Cause, if so, you might want to change your tone, precious.”
“Eddie, don’t,” Chrissy said, and then she stood up, addressing the guy in the suit.  “Jason, what the fuck do you want?”
Eddie, you moved your lips, whispering the name to yourself.  His name was Eddie.  
Jason put his hands up in mock surrender.  “Why so hostile?” He turned to Eddie. “Joyce has been trying to find you for an hour.  There’s a toilet backed up in one of the cabins, and trash that needs to go to the dump. Sounds to me like you’re having a hard time doing your job, Munson.”
You scuttled like a crab, moving to a spot where you could see their faces instead of the backs of their heads.
So that you could see Eddie’s face. 
Steve checked his watch and pushed off of the railing to snub his cig out on the bottom of his shoe.  “I gotta run.  See you bastards at the show tonight,” he said in passing, shoving both hands into his trouser pockets.  He walked right into Jason, shoulder checking him, before casually going on his way.  Jason shot him an evil look.
“Well,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Tell Joyce I got the message,” and then he motioned for Jamie to follow him.
“Too bad we can’t take you out with the rest of the trash, freak,” Jason mumbled, loud enough for you to hear every word, and a tension crackled in the air.
The metalhead stopped dead in his tracks and drew his shoulders back.  
When he finally turned on his heel, he wore a satisfied smirk, inclining his head, as if he’d been waiting for Jason to say something all along. 
Chrissy moved as if she were about to go over and break up whatever was about to happen, but one of the others put a handout and stopped her.  
“Just keep sending your laundry home to mommy, baby boy, and leave the real work to me,” Eddie said, and then he flicked the butt of his cigarette at Jason’s face. 
Jason moved his head just in time so that the hot cherry missed his cheek by a hair and bounced off the wall behind him, spraying sparks.  Chrissy and the others snickered at how beet red Jason’s face got, but he didn’t say another word, he just waited for Eddie and Jamie to be far enough away before he went back around to the front entrance.
When the coast was clear, you stood and made your way to the path again.  With a curse you realized you were going to be late for that dinner reservation, and picked up speed to a slow, sad jog. 
You found yourself thinking that maybe being trapped at Hawkins Landing for the summer wouldn’t be so bad after all. 
—----
Your aunt Kim gave you an exasperated look when you all finally sat down for dinner, being that you’d made everyone 20 minutes late for the reservation.  There didn’t appear to be a single open table when you arrived, but Joyce had made sure to keep the one by the window facing the gardens open for your party.  She came around to introduce the guy who was to be your waiter, and you sat up a little straighter in your seat when you realized it was Jason from earlier.  The way he’d been dressed out on the porch made sense now, as his uniform was the same as all of the other waitstaff.  
Near the end of the meal, Joyce returned to the table in her black pencil skirt and fitted jacket, but this time, she was with a guy who you could tell wanted to look like Don Johnson in Miami Vice, but it came off more as Gary from Weird Science.  
“I'd like you to meet Troy, he’s the son of Mr. Brenner, the owner of the resort,” there was a reluctance about her, as if she’d been forced at gunpoint to introduce him.  
Troy stared at you with an uncomfortable intensity, making your attention fall to your plate.  
“I’m in charge when my father isn’t around,” Troy said with a smug grin, putting his hands in his white trouser pockets, and you spotted some type of metal retainer on his teeth.  
Joyce cleared her throat, annoyed that his statement was far from true.  But she recognized that it was part of her job to indulge the little shit.  
“I just graduated with a business degree from Georgetown,” he gloated, giving you a wink.  “This place will all be mine one day.”
Your father exchanged a look with your aunt over his chocolate mousse.  
“Well, it’s nice to know someone else your age here, isn’t it, Bird? Maybe you two kids should go have some fun tonight,” Kim chirped.  
If your aunt wasn’t so far away, you would’ve kicked her under the table. 
Troy bent at the waist so that his face wasn’t far from yours.  “I’d love to show you around after dinner, if you’re interested in a tour?”
Before you could issue a vague excuse like, “sorry I can’t, I have a headache,” Kim spoke for you again.
“I think that’s a great idea,” she even clapped her hands, applauding it. 
In the end, you went with him to make Kim happy, to get her off your back, hopefully for the rest of the trip.  
An hour or two with a pretentious prick wouldn’t hurt you.
—-------
Troy wasn’t bad company, but he was quite full of himself.  He had interesting stories about his extensive travels, but then he also told awkward stories that were possibly fibs about how many models he’d dated, and expanded on how he wanted to be married with two kids by the time he was 30.   
You, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine thinking that far ahead, and he wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise.  
You followed close behind through the huge, busy kitchen of the restaurant you’d just dined in, and he tried to hold your hand when he introduced you to the head chef, but you were sly, and pulled it away to cross your arms over your chest.  He gave you a tour of the ballroom and took a stroll through the other restaurant on the opposite end of the building that had a much more relaxed feel, low lighting, red carpet, and a bar at the center.  
You went down to the boat docks and walked along the pier. The stars were breathtaking, but Troy didn’t notice, he was too busy trying to convince you to go out on his boat with him.  You declined, taking a page from Kim’s book to mention a freshly born curse of violent seasickness.  
You had your elbows on the railing at the pier, enjoying the velvet reflection of the crescent moon in the lake, and you could feel your jaw grow tense under the weight of Troy’s stare. 
On the verge of telling him you were ready to head back to your cabin, the sound of music drifted down from somewhere on the property. 
Yes, no mistaking, it was Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money, but it was being executed with someone else’s voice, and whoever that person was had some serious pipes.
And then there was the distinct sound of a feminine voice chiming in with the parts from the song Be My Baby Now by the Ronettes in the chorus.
"Is that a live band?" You turned away from him to try and find the source of the music.  It wasn’t coming from the restaurant on the water or any of the cabins to your right.  
"There's a cover band every Friday out behind the main house. You want to check it out?" He held the crook of his arm out to you and hesitated before you took it.  His ego sufficiently stroked now that you wanted to spend more time with him.
Around the side of the building, overlooking the golf course, was a huge, fenced in back patio garden area with a private hot tub and pool for hotel guests.  Troy led you through a white arbor wound with ivy to find that there were plenty of people mingling, drinking, and dancing.  The area was mostly manicured lawn, with stone pathways meandering around from a concrete floor that was right in front of the small riser that was meant to be a stage. You imagined that a million weddings had taken place there. 
At the door was a bar, and Troy got you a flute of champagne, which you downed with abandon and asked for another.  While he was getting your second glass, you made your way along under several boughs of white string lights to get a view of the stage and who was performing the top tier Eddie Money cover.
Just as you stepped into the crowd of people shuffling to the beat, you stopped dead in your tracks.
There he was at the mic: Eddie the metalhead.
Guitar slug low at his hips, wearing a tuxedo with light blue cummerbund and bow tie, his hair neatly combed back and fixed into a knot at the back of his head so that you could really see the curves of his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was performing the song against his will.
The rest of the band were dressed similarly, and you instantly knew the one strumming the bass guitar as Steve, and the woman on backup vocals rocking on the rhythm was Chrissy, who wore a conservative skirt and flats. There was also a keyboardist and a drummer, both of whom you did not recognize.
“What’s your major?” Troy asked, breaking your reverie to pass you the glass of champagne. “In college?”
You were confused for a second but then, “oh, I took the year off to…figure some things out.” The full truth of it was that you had dropped out completely and had no intention of going back.  
“I spent a summer in Greece my freshman year,” he offered, unprovoked. “The women there are, wow, so smoking hot.”
The song finished and Eddie took his tuxedo jacket off, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing the scattered tattoos you’d noticed earlier.  He leaned over to whisper something to Chrissy, motioned at the drummer, and then stepped back into place, brushing a loose wisp of hair off his cheek.
“Find someone special for this next one,” he told the crowd, and was answered with a rush of murmurs.
The first notes to In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel, a slow song, lit up the space, and your stomach tightened, fearing that Troy would ask you to dance. As he escorted you to the floor, you tried to keep your head down and stay to the back of the crowd, but Troy kept maneuvering you closer to the stage. 
I get so lost, sometimes
Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
When I want to run away
I drive off in my car
But whichever way I go
I come back to the place you are
You watched the performance from over Troy’s shoulder and followed his lead, shifting from foot to foot.  You were mesmerized by the muscles in Eddie’s hands as he played each note, and the way Chrissy came in like an angel on the chorus.  
He’d captured the attention of everyone in the garden at that moment, and there was a group of women watching him from the sidelines, whispering to each other, possibly about how they wanted to eat him alive.
They were all thinking the same thing you were: Eddie was magic.  
He liked to close his eyes when he sang, so you weren’t expecting him to be staring right at you when he opened them again.  
All my instincts, they return
And the grand facade, so soon will burn
Without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
He wouldn’t break eye contact, so you eventually had to; the intensity of it was giving you butterflies.
Troy stepped back and tried to get your attention.  “Did you hear anything I just said?”
You nodded, but your gaze only drifted back to Eddie.  Troy followed your line of sight and then dropped both of his hands with a frustrated cluck of his tongue.
"What the hell is he doing up there?" He hissed to himself when it dawned on him that Eddie had been behind the mic that whole time. "That's our goddamn maintenance guy. He shouldn't be up there."
In a huff, Troy pushed through the crowd and headed over to one of the other staff members against the fence. Bird could see him shouting and pointing over at the stage. Whatever the staff guy said did not seem to cheer him up a bit, and he came back to your side, shrugging his shoulders.
"I guess our normal front man Drew has the flu," he reported back. "It's just so hard to find reliable help these days."
Eddie was making the song his own, and that was what you liked about it.
“Let’s get out of here,” Troy put his hand on your lower back to escort you out. “The music sucks.”
—--
It was 9:30 when you made it back to the main foyer, standing in the middle of the lobby next to an obnoxious floral arrangement, when Troy tried to get you to go back to his cabin and watch a movie, only to get respectfully declined.
“Don’t worry about your parents,” Troy said, brushing his finger over your chin. “They know you’re with me, so they’re probably the happiest parents at Hawkins Landing.”
The guy had quite an ego on him, you had to give him that. It was unsurpassed by most. 
In the end, you got away, and as soon as your Mary Jane’s hit the cobblestones outside the front door, you could feel yourself trotting at a quicker pace, eager to put some distance between you and Troy and everyone else, for that matter.  You didn’t stop until you were far enough away from the main hotel to be able to check over your shoulder and not see it through the trees.
It was then that you realized that you had a free chunk of time, and you could do with it whatever you wished.  Your dad would think you were still with Troy, and as long as you made it back to the cabin before midnight, they wouldn’t worry.  
As much as it was the dead of summer, Indiana by the water had very cool nights, and you buttoned up the jean jacket you were wearing just as you noticed a yellow sign on a lamppost to the right that said: Staff Quarters, No Guests Allowed Beyond This Point
And that made you want to venture in even more.
You checked around to make sure there was no one there to notice that you blatantly ignored the sign, and just kept going.  The path at your feet changed from stone to a well-worn dirt path through the grass, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the sound of music erupting in the distance.  
You passed by staff quarters, a few weathered red cabins with white trim, lined close together, and there were some people hanging out on their porches who gave you curious looks, but didn’t seem too concerned with your presence. 
Following the source of the music, you descended down into unknown, poorly lit territory that no longer looked like it was part of the Hawkins Landing property.  
(song playing in the distance is Dangerous Meeting by Mercyful Fate)
It was then that you noticed a pale yellow light coming from the windows of a building up ahead.  Just as the dirt path turned to gravel, you identified the music you were hearing as heavy metal, and it was bolstered by distinct shouts and cheers, even a high-pitched scream or two.  
“Hey,” a voice startled you from out of the dark and you jumped. “What are you going out here?”
Heart racing, you spun around to find out it was Robin.  
She was struggling to carry several things in her arms as she walked and you rushed over to her.
“Where did you come from?” You asked, grinning ear to ear at how glad you were to see someone familiar.
“My cabin is right over there,” she bucked her chin in a direction behind you.
She had a crossbody bag over her shoulder, an amp in one hand, and she was juggling two guitar cases, one of which she fumbled, and you managed to catch it before it hit the ground.  You wrapped your arms around the hard case with the Scorpions sticker on it, silently offering to carry it the rest of the way.
“You don’t have to—” Robin started, adjusting the bag over her shoulder.
“I want to,” you looked back up at the house where the music was coming from, assuming that was where she was headed.  “I carry that big cello around all the time, remember? I’m used to it.”
Robin moved her jaw from side to side and she looked conflicted.  “You’re not supposed to be here.”
Your eyes were still locked on the house hidden in the trees.  “What is that place?”
“Listen,” she gave you an imploring look. “I will get in so much trouble if they find out you came out here. Your dad won’t want you here, trust me.”
Her warning did nothing to squelch your curiosity. “I’m a big girl, I go wherever I want. Plus, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Besides,” she gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrow. “If your boyfriend Troy finds out you were here, Brenner will fire all of us.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you snapped.  But then, softer, you added, “I barely just met him tonight.”
Robin wasn’t in the mood to try and rip the guitar out of your hands, and so, with a heavy sigh, she caved.
“Fine,” she sighed. “But stay close to me, okay? You’re not at the resort anymore, sweetheart.”
You nodded, waiting for her to lead the way.
She took a step forward and then stopped and turned on her heel to point at the instrument in your arms. 
“Be extra careful with that, it’s Eddie’s baby. He’ll grow horns if anything happens to it.”
----
Hi! If you are familiar with the movie Dirty Dancing, you have an idea about what scene is coming up next. I've really enjoyed lining up certain events with the movie, but things will obviously be different in this because I want it to have some surprises in store for you.
Every chapter from here on out will start with a list of the songs, ones that will give hints for what to expect. I wanted to make music a big part of this fic, because it was a huge deal in the movie, and the original soundtrack is still dear to me.
as always, thank you so much for reading and interacting with this story! Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. or send me an ask and let me know what you think ❤️
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taglist: @tlclick73 @micheledawn1975 @kurdtbean @katethetank @elvendria @spookysqaush86 @somethingvicked @stylesxmunson @laurenlokirby @sapphire4082
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Open to the Outlandish: A Conversation with Rebecca Renner
With the Creative Nonfiction Podcast, Brendan O’Meara takes us behind the scenes to learn more about how longform stories get made. In this excerpt, he talks to author and journalist Rebecca Renner about getting that first draft down, the importance of a strong editor, and how a story evolves from pitch to publication. 
Brendan: What you were saying a while ago, you were just urged to write, just get stuff down on the page. It’s really important to do that, because that early draft, that rough draft, or maybe the zero draft, as Roy Peter Clark might call it, it’s terraforming the world or making the map. And there are always going to be gaps in that cartography, and you’ve got to feel like “Okay, here’s a dark spot in the map. How do we fill this in?” But sometimes you don’t know that gap is there until you start and it reveals what else you need to do. Unless you have—for lack of a better term—the courage to start and write before you’re ready, that stuff has a tendency to always be in the shadows, and you need to write your way through it.
Rebecca: I’ve actually been reading The Creative Act by Rick Rubin. And I feel like some people think that book is a little woo woo. I did when I first started reading it, but I really like how he talks about being open to the possibilities of the creative act and the potential there, being able to get into the flow state and stopping yourself from self-criticism and over-analyzing, getting yourself to open up. That has been one of the most important things to do in my creative process because I have to remind myself that I have all the things I need; it’s all there. And then I don’t have to keep going out and getting more details or over-report things, which I have a problem doing, or even in fiction that I just have to believe that I have the story and that I have to get it down. Then I’ll see the lacunae.
Check out the full interview.
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