#found a pose reference I wanted to use. at least partially

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Adam?

[zahri-melitor]

Blade Runner, The Matrix and Robins: if you want to run a conspiracy in your story you need to put in the work

One of the central conspiracies people like to speculate about in Blade Runner is the theory of whether Deckard is a Replicant. It's a high-context theory woven into the plot and cinematography of the film. (I'm aware various people, decades on, have 'confirmed' it's true; I don't think that's particularly relevant to this).

The reason why the theory is so compelling for audiences to discuss is that the film in itself poses the question 'what is a human' and sends the main character, Rick Deckard, on a hunt for those clues and mistakes that give away the Replicants he is looking for. Things like Deckard's evasion over whether he's ever taken a Voight-Kampff test, and moments that suggest implanted and shared memories make for a fun second level mystery for viewers to think about and solve. The unicorn dream sequence, with both the dream and silver foil unicorn, provides another pointer for audiences to consider the idea. Even the Replicant Red Eye moments are subtle clues that get called out via the broader focus on eyes.

What also helps the debate and hunt for this potential symbolism is Ridley Scott's reputation as a director who heavily goes for visual cinematography hints and altering stories by changing them in Director's Cuts.

Similarly, The Matrix has a conspiracy that the real world is another level within the Matrix. This one is easy to understand how it developed. The Matrix, as a film, invests a substantial amount of its runtime teaching its audience the clues used to distinguish the Matrix from the real world. We get explicit scenes like The Girl in the Red Dress and explanations of how déjà vu works to demonstrate alterations in the Matrix. We see how characters can alter the Matrix to their own ends, leading into moments in the trilogy where Neo appears to use those skills in the real world being able to be read as 'are we still in the Matrix?'

The thing is: neither movie fully commits to these readings. They're possibilities that audiences can read in, that feel like they've been woven into the plot for people to consider. The audience is drawn to ask the question via the way the hints/clues are found in things the audience is already directed to consider. At their worst, they're artefacts of the audience taking the themes of those films and extrapolating too far.

My feeling about Robins as a comic is that Tim Seeley and Baldemar Rivas want to suggest one of these conspiracy theory stories, but did not have the skill to convincingly pull it off.

One of my difficulties the entire way through the comic was that the story did not know when it was set, and indeed repeatedly suggested via both dialogue and art that it was set in very different periods.

Robins takes place at least partially in a generated overlay from information based on Bruce's notes on the five Robins and also on various criminals. It's trying to take the log entries from Gotham Knights #1-11 and extrapolate that concept out to 'what if having this went wrong for Bruce'. (And I shouldn't really be surprised that Seeley chose to do this: Seeley is very big fan of Devin Grayson's work in the Bat books and frequently chooses to reference it)

The markers used for this simulation are firstly the level reward bonuses, and secondly the singing robin (that apparently uses the wrong call).

In that light, you could argue that problems like characters wearing the wrong costumes, from non-matching eras, and holding views that don't really accord with those characters is supposed to be a series of hints about the resolution of the title, rather than a set of weird screw ups that involve suggestions that the team didn't both checking details.

My issue is that it doesn't feel earned. If Seeley and Rivas really did want to hint and direct their audiences into reading that the presentation, comments and impressions of each of the Robins in their story were wholly based on Bruce's conception of them, then I think those discontinuities should match each other more clearly within each character.

Take Tim for a moment: he wears his original 1990s Robin costume; is the opponent of Damian's 'gauntlet' (a period in which he was wearing his all red Robin costume); has his overlay stolen for a rant about how Tim things the Obeah Man and other villains should die in a way that explicitly references Red Robin #26 (his post-Crisis Red Robin period); and gets specifically removed from the story and trapped in a way that he has to direct others to find him and try to escape himself (suggestions of both the Ünternet and more specifically Mr Oz during Tynion's Tec run). These do not match. If we're supposed to think Bruce is hung up on a specific conception of Tim, and a particularly backward-looking one (which you would assume, given he's put in his earliest Robin costume), why don't the other elements match? Why not put him in his all-red Robin costume to hint that he's Damian's gauntlet? Why not put him in one of his Red Robin costumes if you're going to keep referring to him as Red Robin, and that Bruce's worries about him relate to specific events in that period? And why, if the early Robin costume is supposed to reference Tim's own 'gauntlet', then is he the only character wearing his original costume from the storyline?

And what does not help with this is that Seeley has several obvious screw ups. The most prominent one is he conflates Rite of Passage with Batman: Identity Crisis. The Obeah Man was the villain of Rite of Passage for Bruce, where he was hunting him down to save the Drakes. Tim's personal combatant during that story was tracking down Lonnie as Moneyspider. The storyline where Tim showed the skills and personal judgement that made Bruce decide that he was ready to be Robin was in Identity Crisis, which was a story rescuing Bruce and Vicky Vale from Scarecrow. While the stories are sequels to each other, they're not a contiguous whole: they take part in different titles, with a gap in time between them. Similarly, Seeley places Felipe Garzonas' death as Jason's first case as Robin, rather than his last case.

The whole concept of the 'gauntlets' is the underlying thread holding the story together, the aspect on which Bruce's analysis of each of the Robins and whether he wants to work with them is based, leading to the computer files, leading to the entire plot.

If you mess up like that, audiences are less likely to grant that you're trying to build hints in that something is wrong by having things be noticeably mismatching, because you've also screwed up the ground on which you're trying to construct the story. You cannot fairly claim that the incongruities you put in to hint at your plot are something that should be analysed as clues when you've already primed your audience to think that you're just a hack making blatant mistakes.

And this problem extends to all of the characters, not just Tim. Tim's just the easiest for me to pick apart because I know the references made so well (and Tim Seeley clearly doesn't actually care as much about Tim as several other characters, making the oopsies more obvious).

The issue with this story isn't simple single-panel moments like "And I need to hear it from you, Tim, because Jason and Damian lie through their teeth" or Tim saying he "demanded" to be Robin where people can dunk on it by showing another panel like the Teen Titans 2003 "I lie to Batman" panel or ALPOD. It's in the fact it tries to be clever but doesn't earn audiences' trust to do that analysis. And it doesn't earn that trust because you can't pick apart what's a deliberate incongruity as a hint from what's a general mistake from the team, and if you do pick at elements that look like outright mistakes, the whole thing comes tumbling down.

Blade Runner and The Matrix train their audiences from the very start of the story to look for these incongruities and hints and showcase what problems to look for openly in the plot, leading to people to heavily analyse background details for further suggestions of these hints. They earn the buy in that leads to the elaborate fan theories.

Tim Seeley forfeited his audience's buy in to the story he apparently was trying to tell by not being exact enough about the details in a story where he wanted them to pick at those details, and not showing early enough that the audience is expected to be picking at those details. And that's just poor writing and biting off more than you can chew.

[arcadechan]

Hey! I just found your art and I adore it! I don't mean to be a bother, but how do you draw hands? They're so amazing and I struggle a lot with them!

Hello there, thank you so much~! It's no bother at all, sorry it took me a little while to respond (I came down with a cold and wanted to reply properly!), but check under the cut for a quick rundown on how I do hands and some general tips!

So I generally draw hands in four steps. First, I draw the block of the palm (which depending on the angle of the hand will typically be either a squarish shape or a wedge shape). Then I place the MEAT, that good chunk that's basically part of the thumb, if it's visible for the pose.

Next is the fingers. If the knuckles will be visible I usually circle in a KNUCKLE GUIDE, it helps me space out the fingers, follow the curve of the hand, and can sometimes make some nice shapes for me. As for the fingers themselves, I'll either just draw straight lines to start, or come in with big blocky shapes. I've found sometimes it's easier to erase the shape of the fingers than to draw them outright, especially in the sketch phase where I use thicker brushes (on purpose, so I don't worry about detail too much). That's my usual process!

I make frequent use of reference - normally I use my own hands. Either looking at them as is or taking a picture, I do both all the time

working digitally is GREAT for learning to draw something you struggle with, especially hands. sometimes I'll draw them very large on purpose and then shrink them down, or I'll zoom in while I draw them. big hands.

looking at how other artists draw hands can be just as helpful as looking at real-life reference, especially if you have a more "pushed" style

when drawing complicated hand gestures, I usually stick to simple shapes (at least for the sketch phase), because then I can at least get the idea down.

using the eraser or a brush on transparency to find the shapes of the fingers for you is a gamechanger, erasing can be drawing too!

I let the character decide the finger and hand shape

knuckles still don't make much sense to me (that's why I often use a KNUCKLE GUIDE, sometimes I'll just partially erase the circles to make the knuckle shape for me and call it good)

Nothing...hugely revelatory. Hands can be pretty intimidating, they're comparatively small and full of bits and bends...and you can always just kind of tell when a hand isn't "drawn right". Practicing drawing singular hands on a larger scale really helped me, as well as focusing on "shapes" over "details".

One thing I've been really trying to remind myself of lately is that I can draw things how I WANT them to look instead of how I think they SHOULD look; looking good or cool vs "right" or "correct". This is especially helpful with drawing hands, as they can be so expressive and articulate and weird in their own right, that ignoring technical correctness in favor of GOOD SHAPE, LOOKS COOL can really help you land somewhere a bit more satisfying.

[animehouse-moe]

The Art of Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, and The Life of Hirohiko Araki

A while back I promised to give a walk through of the Jojo art books I own, and I found myself with quite a bit of free time today, so that's what I'm doing. These art book are... something else. Everybody knows how much Araki's style is influenced by high fashion and pop culture (specifically music), to the point that stands are named after bands, and a lot of illustrations in these books borrow poses and themes from actual photo shoots. But it's far greater than that when you experience it in full. The depth and sheer scale of Jojo's exists on a different level through these references, the locations, the styles, even Araki's comments. It well and truly is the world that Hirohiko Araki inhabits, and I hope I can do it at least the slightest bit of justice in this (not so) little post.

Jojo A-Go!Go!

So, Jojo A-Go!Go! (as well as Jojoveller) are actually collections of books for Jojo. The main/big volumes containing all the major illustrations, while the smaller ones are dedicated to more knowledge than art. With A-Go!Go! we get separate books for the various stands of Parts 3-5, and a volume that explores Araki's past through countless interviews and snippets that I'd love to see officially translated some day.

Regardless, one cool aspect of the A-Go!Go! set is this little wheel featured on the box that contains the volumes. As you can tell, there's a layer behind the circle on the top of the box that you can spin around to align properly, or like I show here, create some funny mix ups.

Anyways, the art. Man, the art. Incredible, just incredible. The book opens with a lot of double spreads that feature groups of characters based on parts or roles within their respective parts, and they all look so good.

Of course, it's not just good art, it's an impressive creative process that captures the best parts of Araki's creativity, with pages like this. I just think it's so cool how they use a cutout page to provide a unique style and experience through the art book. Especially with the bottom image, as you can see stands in the darkness of the pages.

But yeah, an absolutely stunning art book for parts 1-5. Very impactful and strong poses and styles, as expected from Araki.

I really wish that the stands and Hirohiko Araki volumes were translated for this art book. There's so much information and a world of interesting pieces from Araki himself within them. I can read a little bit, but it does take a while, so sadly I can't really translate or explain much either. One day though, I hope Viz or someone else will provide an English version of these art books for English-speaking audiences.

Jojoveller

A rather similar story to A-Go!Go!, Jojoveller is the art book for Jojo parts 6-8, plus a few extras. In addition, it also has a full collection of Jojo stands that's up to date with the release of the art book back in 2013, plus a history book of Jojos. Once again, a huge amount of information, but a lot stuck in Japanese which presents a challenge for NA audiences.

Anyways, the art. There's not much to say besides what I've already said. It's incredible. It's powerful, creative, stylized, unique, so on and so forth. But showing it makes more sense than telling you.

Once more, I love how these art books use translucent or partial pages to create an experience for readers. So very cool.

And here's an example of the extras. Incredibly cool to get the Gucci x Araki artworks at this scale (also cool cause it's Rohan).

These pieces are just so incredible. I'd to try and go through one day and find the real life counterparts for the illustrations that borrow from photoshoots. Just on that topic though, it's incredible that Jojo's has created a feedback loop with it. Borrowing concepts and poses from high fashion and photoshoots to use in its world and story, which people in turn mimic and use themselves.

Jojo 6521

Want the previous two art books but don't want to spend the money, or want to be able to read what's in them in English? Jojo 6521 is the almost answer. It's a condensed version of the two art book collections, condensing the art and information of them into a single book which includes a really interesting breakdown of information by part.

It's not near the same scale of information as the other books, but it's also only one volume at a fraction the page count of the others combined, and it's the only one in English. Sort of a beggars can't be choosers thing, but still quite a bit of cool stuff in it. I think my only gripe would be how plainly the illustrations are put together in this art book, as the vast majority of them are just placed together on a plain white page with each other. But, I think that's counteracted by the new/original material discussed and shown in this volume, with loose character designs and other pieces placed thoughtfully throughout.

And there it is, the Jojo art books I own. I could spend hours looking through all the different illustration and designs that appear in these books. Hell, I could spend a significant chunk of time just looking at the packages/formats that these art books come in (specifically the JP ones). The entire experience of these art books is so incredibly well designed that even though they're very expensive, I'd say for anyone that can afford them and is a Jojo fan, you absolutely need to own these art books.

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

My opinion on bnha 329:

You can check in here my opinion about chapter 328, if you want the context.

I'm glad Horikoshi solved many of the things I pointed out last week. And I'm glad that I'm correctly reading into the manga, at least at some extent.

Let's see what we got this week: (long post)

After a long building up of relating Spinner to common citizens, mutants, people with weaker quirks and in general, the audience or the general public, we finally see this being explicitly acknowledged. He's on the end of his arc now, because the people picked him as their voice.

The last point is really important because Spinner now has great power. This is a direct parallel to the way Uraraka took control of the megaphone and spoke for the heroes. Now, it's Spinner's turn to speak for the villains, but because people wants him to do so.

On another note, we got an amazing graphic parallel of Stain and Spinner. While Stain is in shadows, Spinner is bright. And unlike Stain, Spinner has been chosen by the public. He was not there to be a leader, but people recognize him as one. This is very interesting because it shows how much Spinner has grown and how he is his own character, with his own achievements.

We saw Dabi back in a forest. This is a direct parallel to the way he stopped being Touya and got to be Dabi. It's a graphic reminder that we're getting the end of his arc with the Todorokis. What is his last step? We know he has his own plans and we know he wants to make Endeavor suffer, so could he be on a solo mission to achieve his vengeful desires? In which forest is Dabi? Are we're going to get more flashbacks? Are we going to see him back at Sekoto Peak?

Please note that when they mention Toga, it's exactly the way Curious wanted it. Toga is in front of a black background. She's being inserted on a narrative by force and not by choice, because someone else is putting her there. Alternatively, the white background tells us Toga's arc is still lacking definition and scenario for its end. Her fate is yet to be defined.

There's A LOT to say about AFO. Please look how the League of Villains is broken. AFO is using them as puppets. When referring to Spinner, he talks about him like he's a "bodyguard", not an equal or a friend like Tomura used to do. AFO clearly doesn't care about them and he won't stop to consider what they want, unlike Tomura. He has his own things to do and anything else must be forgotten and put aside.

AFO is still hiding behind Tomura. Please note how Tomura is treated like any other nomu. AFO took the throne of the king (Tomura) and made Tomura into a war dog.

Now, I've written some meta before about how Tomura never had an own identity until he met the League. Kotaro denied Tomura being himself, so much that the hand of Kotaro was still making Tomura faceless long after Kotaro's dead.

After Kotaro, AFO took away Tenko Shimura and imposed a new identity: Shigaraki Tomura. Please note that Shigaraki is AFO username, which means that even back then AFO was planning on using Tomura as an extention of AFO himself. And by naming him Tomura he pressured the kid to never forget his anger and sadness, caused by the tragedy of his family. It was AFO who repressed further the kid, all the hands being a physical reminder of such act. The hands were covering his entire face and because Tomura was unable to touch, he was only able to listen, just like the nomus. That's why Tomura scratches his neck so much. He itches for having an own voice, an own personality, an own identity.

If you pay attention to the panels in bnha 329, you can see how Tomura is wearing both a suit that resembles AFO's clothes and a cloak that resembles the one AFO was using on the world where Deku could see the vestiges. Tomura even has the white hair like AFO now. His pose and clothes are a direct parallel to Deku, but in a way AFO is a parallel to OFA.

Tomura has been stripped away of everything that made him himself. He doesn't have the hands, he doesn't have his clothes, people calls him AFO now, he doesn't even have his friends around. He's alone, a weapon and nothing more. I wrote another meta about how Tomura had no identity analyzing a panel from bnha 328. This is the direct consequence of that.

But this is not a separate case. It is pretty normal, in fact. When a system fails, when an entire country dives on a crisis, it's normal for everyone to question their place in that society and their identities.

Deku had an identity crisis and his friends for UA needed to rescue him and reminded him who he was. Toshinori had a crisis and Stain needed to helped him with it. Uraraka questioned too her identity as a hero and from there her speech above UA was born. Endeavor got a crisis, Shoto got a crisis, Toga needs to decide as much as Spinner does who do they want to be, Dabi is facing his old identity and his new identity conflicts...

This is actually pretty good. The narrative around heroes and villains are being questioned.

Who am I and why am I that person?

Do I need to be that person?

What is my role in society? Why?

What are my goals and why? Are they worth all the consequences?

Do I like the identity of my society? If not, can I change it? Can I change all the things before?

Bnha inner universe is walking towards a redefinition. What is a hero, what is a villain, who are they, why they are heroes or villains, etc. These characters were forced into certain roles or they assumed they needed to play those roles, according to what society told them. And now, they are free to decide. Time and time again, in every journey of any hero, the problems of the identity and the self vs the others is vital, and it shows through the decision making system.

On a final note, I'm a little sad that Horikoshi made a female version of All Might to fight Tomura, instead of giving her a more original character design in general. Women in the bnha universe tend to be seen as replacements of previous existent characters, or they are used quickly to further the plot and get forgotten. They deserve a better treatment, being honest.

The kids will get there rest time, because not all the cards are on the table yet. I love that it's the turn of the villains to play, because the final result of the next battles are going to be partially determined by what the members of the League of Villains decide to do.

Spinner will probably betray AFO, because he's not loyal to AFO's ideals but to his own ideas.

Dabi has his own thing going and he's also going to get rescued by the Todorokis. I really want to see Hawks, Endeavor, Shoto and Dabi all in a same fight, because parallels are going to fly around and I bet we're going to found out more about Dabi's heart.

I think Toga is still going to interact with the UA kids and help them somehow. I hope she gets to talk to Deku and make some good friends.

And for Tomura... He needs someone to reach for him. He has lost himself. His determination is gone, the sparks in his eyes, his fire. He needs a reason to fight, a reason to believe. He needs someone to believe in him, someone to call out his name and make him exists. He needs someone to see him. He's the same lost boy who walked on the streets asking for someone to rescue him. He's the same kid that asked for someone to believe he could be a hero. If Deku gives him that, if All Might helps him too, if the League is there to show them their loyalty, Tomura will be able to snap out of AFO's control and break free.

Nothing like a good villain chapter to make me excited about the future chapters. Let's wait and see.

[dramaqueeenamby]

𝙎𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝗈𝖿 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲 | seven

Parings: CEO!Chris Hemsworth x Stripper!OC // Words: 7.8K // Type: Series // Taglist: Yes/No (Inbox me to be tagged or removed) Warnings: Sexual harassment, racial themes, discussions pertaining to child death, miscarriage, alcohol/drug use, and suicide attempts. Angst.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the inexcusable delay in updates. This chapter is hella long and perhaps should have been split into two, but I promised ya'll some answers in the last chapter, so here they are!

“What is that haircut?”

“Why are you zooming in?”

Kaya said nothing, continuing to pinch her fingers to gain a closer look, her smile widening by the second. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding. “

Chris rolled his eyes. “All children go through phases.”

“This is beyond a phase, my friend. Don’t even get me started on the outfit.” As she erupted in yet another fit of giggles, he took advantage of the opportunity to snatch the iPad away from her.

“Go to sleep.”

Quieting herself down, she wiped at her eyes. “No. Come on. I’m enjoying this, and like you said, you were a dumb kid. How were you supposed to know these photos would haunt you till’ the end of time?”

“Only if they get out.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, sir.”

Chris closed the app and looked over at her. “What about you?”

Kaya’s brow lifted. “What about me?”

“What about your phases?”

She snorted. “Absolutely not.” He continued to stare her down, prompting her to cave, a surprising move even for her. Kaya’s tenacity was typically much stronger than that. “Fine.”

She grabbed her phone and unlocked it, opening Google Photos and scrolling mindlessly. She knew that any horrifically embarrassing snapshots would be from as far back as her library went. The older the photo, the higher the likelihood she would regret ever caving.

It took roughly two minutes for her to locate a set, her eyes shutting and a small moan leaving her partially closed mouth.

He smirked. “Found it?”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You’re going to make me regret this, aren’t you?”

“Without a doubt.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “At least you’re honest.” Blowing out a breath, she issued a formal forewarning. “In my defense, I was young and dumb.”

“How is that diff—fine, I will reserve my judgment.”

“Liar.” When he said nothing else, she took another deep breath and gradually pulled her phone away from her breast, twisting her wrist so that he could see the screen. “I give you, thebaddestputa69.”

She watched the corner of his lips lift upward as he fought off a smile in favor of a smirk. “Hotmail or aol?” Her surprise at his knowledge of the fallen email servers must have shown because he commented, “I’m old, not ancient.”

She matched his smirk and leaned over to whisper. “Hotmail. Definitely hotmail.”

“AIM username?”

“Come on, the same as my email. I wasn’t creative enough to have multiple aliases.”

He chuckled, grabbing her phone to examine the photo. “I certainly do not miss the peace sign era.”

“I’m pretty sure I used that same pose in all of my photos back then.”

He gestured to the plastered graphic that read ��jealousy is a disease, get well soon’. “With the same masterful level of editing, I’m sure.”

“But of course, blingee and picnik were a staple.”

A comfortable silence befell them as he returned her phone, and she quickly swiped up to close the app. Kaya was grateful that he didn’t swipe right or left, something she was expecting him to do, if she was being completely honest with herself.

Kaya yawned and naturally laid her head on his shoulder as she reached over to grab the book she was reading when they somehow got on the topic of rebellious and wild phases of days of past.

“Are we th—”

“Finish that sentence, and I will personally throw you out of this damn plane myself.”

Kaya looked over at him, eyebrows furrowed, and mouth pronounced. “It’s a legitimate question.”

“No, it was a legitimate question. However, it stopped being one when you asked me the fifth time.”

“I’m just trying to keep the conversation going. Damn.”

“No, you’re just trying to pester me.”

“Look, it’s obvious you don’t want to hear me talk anymore, so I’m just going to shut my mouth for the remainder of the flight.” He snorted. “What?”

“We both know that’s not possible.” He finally broke his gaze from his phone as he looked over with that knowing smirk that she despised. “You always have to have the last word.”

“That is not true.”

“Kaya, you’re like a child.”

“Keep it up, and you’ll be the one who’s personally tossed from this jet.”

“See what I mean.”

Groaning, she threw her hands up and shook the book in her right hand. “This is the second book in this series.”

“And?”

“And I started the series when we were still on the taxi.”

He shrugged. “Read slower.”

“Chris!”

He laughed, reaching to place his hand on her thigh as she sighed while banging her head back against the headrest. “Relax.”

“Don’t you think if I could, I would?”

“You were doing great five minutes ago.”

“That was in the past.”

“Next time, we’re taking separate jets.”

She didn’t know why but hearing him refer to future happenings both excited and saddened her, for more reasons than one. She cleared her throat. “This is a work trip, right?” He looked down at her as she placed the book down on the ground and held onto his bicep. “You know, something for your company.”

He studied her for a moment and looked up, closing his eyes as he laid his head back against the headrest. “I have the cover of this month’s GQ Italia.”

“Fancy,” she remarked, still unsatisfied with his answer-non answer. “So, I was right. This is a work thing.”

Chris thought about what she said, what she asked, as well as his response before he replied. “They offered to contract a photographer in LA.”

Brows scrunched, she had to ask, now more confused than she was just a few minutes ago. “So why go to them?”

His silence only irked her, the seconds dragging into minutes, which felt like hours. Frustrated and impatient, she called his name again. “Chris-”

“Jesus,” was all she heard before his lips were on hers, palm of his hand pressed against her cheek. Everything else after that was a sensual blur. His other hand moved to her hip, pulling her onto his lap, never once breaking their kiss. She placed her hands on his shoulders, giving a light squeeze, inching her body closer to his, close enough to feel the heat that always emanated over him.

And then, it was over.

Eyes fluttering and breath staggering, she nearly whined when he ran his thumb over her swollen bottom lip.

“This isn’t work for me.”

----

“This is our room?”

Chris looked up and chuckled, watching Kaya spin around the middle, eyes soaking in their suite. He placed her bag near the closet while crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“It is.”

Kaya nodded and grabbed the bottom of her sweatshirt, tugging it over her head. She extended her arm out and turned around, lifting a brow. “And we have maid service, correct?”

He eyed her. “Of course.”

Kaya smirked and let the garment fall to the floor.

Chris chuckled. “You wanna explain that?”

“What?” She played innocent, fingers toying with the waistband of her joggers as she began to shimmy out of them. “Staying in a fancy hotel where I don’t have t0 clean up after myself?” She walked toward him, moving to grab her suitcase so that she could find her next outfit. “Granted, we have the maid service at home, but—” Both Christopher and Kaya paused at her statement, equally surprised by how easily it flowed, but more so with the statement itself.

Defense immediately kicked in and Kaya cleared her throat. “I mean, ya know, your place.” She refused to make eye contact that exceeded ten seconds, grabbing the handle of her suitcase and dragging it in the direction of what looked like the bathroom.

“Dibs.”

Her feet weren’t moving fast enough for her liking. In fact, they were slow enough that Chris was somehow able to cross the room and grab her by her arm. She looked up, managing to remain calm while inwardly panicking.

God, please don’t let him ask anything.

“Don’t take too long.”

She swallowed. “Why?”

Her grip on the handle tightened when he moved his hand to her face, the back of it brushing against her cheek. Had he been paying close enough attention, he would have noticed the way she shivered at his touch.

“You want dinner, don’t you?”

-----

“This isn’t exactly what I meant.”

Kaya looked up from her pizza, pausing mid chew. “What? Pizza in Italy? This is goals.”

He intended to take her to a fine restaurant, one where only the elite could afford to dine. Instead, she requested pizza delivered to their room. Kaya never ceased to surprise him. “And why are you eating pizza with a fork?”

She shrugged, adjusting the thin strap of her shirt. “Because pizza is messy, and my life's already messy enough. I avoid when I can.”

Chris didn’t say anything, simply watching her eat. She caught his gaze and looked away. If she could, she’d go back in time and stop herself from ever saying what she did. It’d ruined everything. He’d been acting different around her since, and she hated that. She also hated that she hated it.

Since when did she give a flying fuck about what people thought of her? Let alone him.

It was out of character for her, and she didn’t like it.

She didn’t like it at all.

Similarly, Chris also found it difficult to focus on anything other than the encounter from earlier, but not for the reasons Kaya thought.

Not even close.

“So, what’s the agenda for this trip?”

He chuckled and brought the champagne to his lips. “And ruin the surprise?”

Her eyes narrowed as she replaced the fork with her fingers so that she could eat the crust piece by piece. “What surprise?”

“What kind of question is that? Who gives away a surprise?”

“Are you capable of ever just answering my questions with a straight answer?”

He pretended to think. “I could.”

“But?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“You and fun? Never realized they were synonymous.”

“I’d like to think we have fun.”

“We have sex. Really, really, great sex.”

“You don’t consider that fun?”

“Fun isn’t a strong enough word to describe it.” He lifted a brow, and she scoffed, tossing a red pepper packet in his direction. “Stop it. I am trying to have a mature conversation here.”

“Not quite sure how possible that is when both parties are inebriated.”

“Bullshit. You know damn well neither one of us is drunk. You haven’t seen me drunk. Hell, I haven’t seen me drunk in a while.”

The way her tone changed toward the end of her sentence garnered his interest. “Why not?”

She looked at him, her smile faltering as she nervously cleared her throat. “I—uh—I get really bad migraines, and Excedrin is the only thing that works for me.” Telling him the truth, well, a fraction of the truth, felt strange yet relieving, probably because she’d spent so much of her life hiding and lying that the truth was unfamiliar territory. “Needless to say, meds and alcohol? Never really a good combo.”

“You’re drinking now.”

“I haven’t taken any medicine yet.”

“Maybe you won’t have to.”

She smiled sadly. “I will.” A beat. “It’s all I have.” Kaya snatched another piece of her crust and swallowed fully before explaining. “That’s why my sleep schedule, if you can even call it that, is so fucked up.”

He thought about it. “Excedrin has caffeine.”

“An insane amount.”

“It helps your migraines—”

“And keeps me up in return.” When he grew quiet, she offered. “Trust me. The insomnia is much better than the pain.”

“I’m sorry.”

She grimaced, eyes darting in either direction. “Why?”

He sighed and ran his hands all over his face. “That’s why you get so upset when I wake you up.”

“I wouldn’t say upset.”

“You threatened to slit my throat in my sleep.”

“Okay, maybe I was a little upset,” she confessed, and they shared a laugh before his tone grew serious again.

“I’ll be mindful of that.” Head tilted to the side, a sign she was still confused, he continued. “So that you can sleep.”

She smiled teasingly, abandoning the last bit of her food, and pushing her plate to the side. “Is that consideration I hear?”

“It is.”

The way he was looking at her, the lack of typical sarcasm in his tone, it was both welcoming and conflicting. Crawling across the floor, she moved his plate to the side and climbed into his lap.

Hands on his shoulders, she lowered her voice and whispered into his ear. “Well, I’m up right now.”

He made a sound and brought his hands to her hips. “You are.” Her eyes shut when his lips moved to her shoulder. “You should get some sleep.”

Immediately, she coiled back and glared. “Are you serious right now?” He laughed, which only upset her further as he stood up, her legs locking around his waist. “It’s been at least 8 hours.”

“You keeping a timer or something?”

“Look.” She waited for him to place her on the bed before she grabbed the bottom of his shirt and tugging so that he laid back on the mattress. She quickly climbed on top of him. “If there’s one thing I know about us, we are ideal intimate partners. Our sexual chemistry is astronomical.”

His eyes drank her in. “Is that it?”

“Is what it?”

His voice lowered. “Is that all you think we have?”

At that moment, Kaya realized a couple of things. This was wrong. She was suddenly very much uncomfortable. And this was a mistake. This was why she didn’t tell the truth. It meant putting yourself at risk for being vulnerable.

She was never good with that.

Clearing her throat, she climbed off him and flashed a crafty smile. “I’m gonna go shower.” She couldn’t handle seeing his face, so she turned around, purposely pretending she had to look around the room to search for her luggage.

“You should know I hate sleeping with blankets.” Kaya needed to redirect the conversation to another topic. This was becoming all too much for her.

He sat up and rolled his shoulders. “So, strip the bed? Got it.”

“Absolutely not. I could freeze.”

“You just said—”

Kaya stood by the door that led to the living room area and smiled sadly. “I’m a hot ass mess, Chris.” A beat. “The sooner you accept that, the better.”

-------

We need to talk when you get a chance. Please?

No matter how many times she looked at the phone, a new incoming gray message never appeared. She waited and waited, even scrolling up only for it to bounce back with no change.

She missed Nia. She missed their banter. She missed making tik toks with her. And she especially missed the advice giving, of which she could desperately use right about now.

Something was happening between them. With her and Chris. Of which she didn’t know, nor did she understand. It drove her mad because it was a new experience, one where she didn’t feel as though she always had to walk on eggshells.

Being with Chris….

“God.” She ran her hand over her face. What the hell was she doing? She wasn’t with Chris. Not like that, anyway. This was a business transaction. They were both using each other for selfish purposes.

Maybe it was the sex. Nia always warned her that behind every sexual encounter, there was at least some trace of feelings.

Kaya always thought that was bullshit.

Now….now she wasn’t so sure.

“You alright?”

She looked up from her chair and saw Chris walk in. She chewed the inside of her cheek as he sat down in the chair opposite of her. Kaya took in his wardrobe, so casual and laid back. She’d never seen him in denim before, but he looked good.

She didn’t even know the photographer, but she was a fan. A billionaire in Levi’s? Iconic.

“How does it feel to dress like us common folk?”

“Poor.” He winked as she glared. “We should be done soon.”

“Don’t rush on my part. The snacks here are delicious, and who knows, I could play dress up.” She wiggled her brows and straightened when there was a knock on the door.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the photographer spoke up and offered Kaya a friendly smile. “You’re Kaya, yes? I’m Elena.”

Kaya was surprised by the fact that this woman was both speaking to her and actually knew who she was, so her response was delayed. “Yes. It’s nice to meet you.” She offered her hand and noticed the woman was staring at her. Welp. It was nice while it lasted. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized but continued to stare. “It’s just...has anyone ever told you that you have amazing bone structure?”

Kaya sputtered. “Not unless they wanted something from me.”

Elena smiled. “Well, I suppose this is no different.”

“I don’t understand,” Kaya asked, looking over at Chris. He was surprisingly quiet.

“How about we get some shots of the both of you?”

She immediately protested. “Oh no. I—I’m just here for moral support.”

“You did say you wanted to play dress up,” he reminded. She glared. Of course he would choose to speak up now.

She turned her narrowed eyes on him and harshly whispered. “Not while being photographed.”

He placed his hand over hers. “Relax.”

Kaya remembered that they weren’t alone and therefore, had to keep up the act. Even if it was starting to feel less and less like acting.

“I’m used to people watching, not photographing.” He lifted a brow. Laughing, she slapped his chest and took a deep breath. She looked over at Elena. “Will I at least get to see them before you pick which ones to use? If any.”

“Of course.”

Kaya caved. “Fine.” He kissed the top of her head and mouthed a thank you. “You owe me.”

“Sure, I do,” he dismissed, slapping her on her ass as Elena grabbed her to drag her away.

“Time to make magic.”

-----

It was a bad idea, one of many that had occurred, Kaya realized.

When she joked about wanting to play dress—up, she didn’t think that it would actually happen. She didn’t think that she’d become involved in his shoot. Kaya especially didn’t expect to have as much….fun as she did.

And she hated that, too. The fact that she managed to smile and laugh more in one setting than she had in, hell, longer than she could remember. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all.

She really, really didn’t like the way Chris looked at her every time she walked onto set in a new look, and there were a couple of them. The way he focused on her, eyes taking in every bit of her form, all the way down from her shoes up to her hair. Like he didn’t want to look away. Like he couldn’t look away. She despised the way he held her when they were photographed together, often being the reason for her smile or laughter with his comments that he whispered into her ear, sneaking in a kiss against her temple or holding her against him.

It was all so domestic and sweet, and it made no sense.

He was starting to make no sense.

And she especially didn’t understand why she was putting off leaving the bathroom, having sat on the toilet for at least 15 minutes.

As if on cue, two loud knocks on the door pulled her from her thoughts.

“I’m coming, damnit.”

“That’s what you said last time. Come on, Kaya.” She was both surprised and annoyed that it was Chris. She expected it to be members of the glam team that he’d hired to help her prepare for the GQ function he was invited to, and of course, she was forced to accompany him. Turns out he wasn’t just chosen for the cover. He was man of the year. “We’re going to be late.”

“Maybe you should just leave me behind,” she muttered.

“Maybe I can just kick this damn door down,” he countered.

“Then you’ll have to pay for the damages.”

“Then I’ll buy the damn hotel,” he shot back testily. “I’m not going to ask you again, Kaya.”

She scowled and rolled her neck. Kaya knew he was being serious. The bastard could buy his way out of anything.

If only….

Blowing out a deep breath, she swallowed and stood, holding up her dress. It was undoubtedly beautiful, gold, a slit in the middle of her chest and on her left leg exposing more skin than she would have thought appropriate. Her curls were styled in a fancy updo, and her makeup was equally as bold as her dress, finalized with a red lip. She knew that she looked good, and that’s what scared her.

Chris had been looking at her like that all day, and she couldn’t keep handling it.

If she could even consider it handling. Managing was perhaps a better term. Poorly managing was the perfect term.

Kaya ripped open the door and plastered on a fake smile. “Happy?”

And there it was, his eyes widened and softened as he gave her a onceover. “And don’t tell me I look beautiful, cause’ I already know it.”

Kaya figured if she said it for him, she wouldn’t have to deal with the weird and uncomfortable knotting in her stomach that she experienced every time he complimented her.

And it worked, he said nothing, only helping to hold up her dress as they walked to the SUV that would escort them. In the car, she was also pleasantly surprised that he didn’t attempt to make small talk with her during the drive. She was certain, however, that it was because he took at least three different work calls during that time.

She made drafted Tik Toks in the meantime.

When they finally arrived, Kaya nearly ran out of the car right then and there.

“Is that a red carpet?” Her mouth dropped. “What the hell? You said nothing about having to walk a damn carpet that is red.”

He chuckled. Kaya realized his hand was on the exposed portion of her thigh. “Stay close to me, and I’ll take care of you. You’ll be fine.”

Kaya was used to having eyes on her, but that didn’t mean she liked it, especially when it didn’t involve money being thrown her way. “I don’t have to say anything, do I?”

He squeezed her thigh. “You’ll most likely receive compliments.”

“I can handle that,” she spoke more to herself than him. “Just long as no one asks if I prefer cats over dogs or whatever shit they ask.”

He laughed quietly and looked at her. “You ready?”

No. “Yes.”

Chris climbed out the car first so that he could help her out of the vehicle, and as soon as she stepped out, she cursed to herself. There were so many damn people. People taking photographs. People being photographed. People helping both the people the photographed and the photographers. And then there was her. She felt so out of place.

If he wasn’t already holding her hand, she would have grabbed for his.

Kaya used her left hand to hold up her dress, while making sure that she stayed close to Chris who led the way, smiling for the camera while sparing her glances every so often to assess her level of comfort.

Kaya played along, evoking a smile as she posed with him for a few photos. That’s when it started again. Like the photoshoot from a few hours ago, she found herself feeling less forced and more comfortable. Like, it was natural.

Like it was real.

Kaya was eventually allowed to stand to the side as he gave a few interviews, some in English, most in Italian. She’d meant to ask him earlier when the hell he learned to speak so many languages. This was the third she’d learned of. She had a feeling at least one or two journalists asked about her, because he would look in her direction and shoot a wink or something of the sort.

Her smile was a natural reaction.

The process was less daunting than she anticipated, not that she’d ever admit that to him. It was once they moved inside that Kaya realized they’d yet to reach the hard part. That hardest part was “socializing” with the guests, many of which were white, spicy white at best. She spotted some minorities but found that they were just as distant as the rest.

The vim of the event was welcoming, however, which confused Kaya to some extent. She simplified it down to the event was nice, the people were trash, and Chris was both an ass and a gentleman for forcing her to come.

He’d introduced her to a few people, most of which spoke poor English. That, she could acknowledge, was nice. Not the strained English, but his obvious concern for her wellbeing. He was going out of his way to make her feel as comfortable as he could.

It was also irritating because it resurfaced those damn knots.

They were seated at a table, and he was texting someone when she leaned over and tugged on his sleeve. Kaya also took a moment to appreciate how nice he looked. The man was something sinful in a suit. “I think I know him.”

He looked up, immediately locking his phone. “Who?”

She gestured with her chin. “The guy over there talking to the girl with the green dress. But don’t look at them.”

His eyes lifted to the ceiling. Right before he proceeded to look right in that direction.

She laughed despite her irritation. “What did I literally just fucking say?”

“I’ll never understand why people want to do something without actually doing it. I don’t have the time.” She shook her head. He was so impatient. “And how do you know him?”

She lifted a brow. He asked with a newfound sense of urgency. If she didn’t know any better, she would have guessed it came from a place of jealousy.

Kaya studied the stranger across the room again when her eyes widened. “I know. He’s that actor from that porn movie we watched.”

“We don’t watch porn, Kaya. We make it.”

“Stop it.” She leaned closer, hating that her smile contrasted the frustration she felt with how vulgar he was speaking in such a public setting. “And you know the movie where they…..ya know, basically the whole time, and he kept asking in that godawful delivery, are you lost, baby girl?”

Her equally terrible impression caused him to laugh quietly. “I think that is him.”

“I told you.” She spoke a little louder than she would have liked due to her excitement at being correct. “He looks better on screen.”

Chris glanced over at him once more and scoffed. “He’s scrawny.”

“Sir, not everyone is like you and built like a fucking tanker.”

“Not my problem.”

Kaya rolled her eyes and gathered her dress. “I’ll be back. I have to use the restroom.” She stood and leaned over, arms around him from behind as she whispered. “Try not to be too much of a dick while I’m gone, okay?”

He turned to look at her. “And where’s the fun in that?”

Turns out finding the bathroom was a harder task than she’d anticipated. She’d asked one of the servers while maneuvering through the crowd, but it also turned out that Kaya wasn’t the best with directions. She did find it, though.

Eventually.

Kaya was navigating her way back to Chris when she was stopped by a man in a suit along the way.

He was of average height, average build, and average attraction. She was immediately annoyed.

“Hi,” Kaya greeted with a tight smile.

“Hello,” he smiled. Add in average dental health. “You are very beautiful.”

Kaya realized he didn’t have an accent, either. American, most likely. “Uhh, thank you.” When she moved to walk past him, he blocked her. “Sir, I really should—”

“How much?”

Her eyes darted to either side. “I’m sorry?”

“Money is no issue, as I’m sure you can see, and I’d like you for a week.” He stepped closer, bringing his hand to trail it down her arm. “Longer even, perhaps.”

“Sir, I have no idea what you are talking about, and please do not touch me.” It wasn’t so much of a request as much as it was a demand. “Now, I really should—”

“You’re not American.” Kaya continued to be confused as hell when his eyes lit up with excitement. “That explains why you look so exotic.” Confusion easily morphed into rage as she finally caught on to what he was referring to. “I bet you feel di—”

“You’re disgusting,” she hissed, pulling away from him. “I am not a fucking prostitute—”

“Call it what you want, girl,” he dismissed. “I don’t judge. I can pay you well.”

“Go fuck yourself, you sick son of a bitch,” she cursed, turning away when he grabbed her arm. “Let me go.”

“You think that you’re special?” He’d taken on another tone, one that conveyed his anger at being rejected. “The fuckin’ stall I just pissed in is worth more than you, bitch.”

Kaya refused to allow him to see her cry, but she’d be lying if she tried to say that his words didn’t sting, especially his next verbal attack.

“You can slap on that expensive dress and let Hemsworth make you feel special, but I know, you know, and everyone else in this fucking place knows that you’re nothing but a cheap, illegal whore—” Panic arose when he moved his hand to the exposed skin of her thigh, squeezing tightly. His hand started to inch upward when Kaya acted on instinct. He cursed aloud while Kaya gasped as she realized that she’d silenced him with her fist dead square in the middle of his face. “You fucking bitch!”

Shock and fear took over as Kaya gathered the bottom of her dress and ran, as much as the gown and her heels would allow, that is. Certain he was going to chase her for retribution, she consistently looked back, unaware that she needed to be just as aware of what was in front as what was behind.

She shrieked and immediately went to pull herself away from the strong body she’d collided with.

“Kaya.” Refocusing her attention, she looked up and realized it was Chris. “Where the hell—” He stopped amid his statement when he took in her appearance and realized that she was crying. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Kaya looked down, speaking more to herself than him. Not that it mattered. He was judging based on what he saw instead of what she said. He’d learned by now that her words rarely matched the truth. “Let’s just go—”

“Kaya,” he repeated, softer. Chris brought his hands to her face, forcing her to meet his gaze as he asked again, slowly. “What happened?” A strike of anger flashed in his blue eyes. “Did someone touch you?”

“No,” she answered, quickly. Too quickly.

The anger escalated exponentially. “Who? Tell me.”

Kaya could have slapped herself. She wasn’t helping the situation. She was making it worse. “It doesn’t matter, I hit him, and now he’s probably going to sue you—”

“Where is he?” Chris was looking behind her, eyes flaming. He was livid. “Show me. Now.”

“No.” Speaking was becoming an increasing challenge, especially against the backdrop of overwhelming emotions. Everything she’d been feeling, preventing herself from feeling, and afraid to acknowledge was gradually bubbling to the surface. “Just—just let me go back to the hotel. I’m messing everything up for you.”

He calmed for a second, realizing what was happening. Chris was unfamiliar with this side of her. Unfamiliar with seeing her so vulnerable. “What?”

Kaya suddenly realized that her eyes were burning again. She was fighting back tears. “I’ll give you back the money for the day, it’s—it’s fine, you’re better off without me here—”

Her offer to pay him incensed Chris. This wasn’t about the money. It stopped being about the money a long time ago, even if he hadn’t realized that until today. “I don’t want the fucking money, Kaya.”

She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Don’t—don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s the truth.”

“Please,” she plead. Control over her emotions was a battle she’d all but lost at that point. Her words, she was certain, would be next.

He raised his voice. Chris sensed, saw that she was uncomfortable, but he also realized that this was what she needed. A push. “Why?”

“Because this all about the fucking money, okay?” She matched his volume, accepting that her tears were going to fall no matter how much she willed them not to. She’d lost the war. “It has to be about the money, because if it isn’t then that means you care, and—you can’t, alright?”

He studied her, wondering if she realized this conversation was difficult for him too. He brought his hand to the side of her face. “Why is it so impossible for you to accept that I fucking care about you?”

She looked up, glistening eyes and wavering voice. “Because then I have to admit that I care about you too, and I can’t do that.” She spoke to herself, as if vocalizing it would cement a decision that was already out of her hands. “I won’t do it.”

“Why?” He pressed. Chris brought his other hand to the other side of her face, cupping it and moving closer. He gave zero fucks about where they were and who could have possibly overheard. “Why are you fighting this so hard?”

She pulled herself away from him, back colliding against the wall as she blurted, “because all I do is hurt the people I care about alright?” In that moment, Kaya realized she was so far gone that the point of return was no longer an option. Her mouth trembled as she struggled to form her next sentence, listing off names with her fingers as props. “Mami, Papi, Nia. Hell, my own brother is dead because of me.” A beat. “I’ll only hurt you, and I care about you too much to do that.”

“Kaya—"

A newfound heaviness started to weigh upon her chest, another blockade to her speech. “I’m standing here in a dress I can’t afford, a building I can’t even fucking pronounce, and with a man I don’t deserve.”

His voice lowered. “Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, I don’t deserve you?” Kaya looked at him, her eyes softening before she squinted, her face scrunching up in obvious pain.

He took note of this. As invested as Chris was in finally getting Kaya to open up about how she really felt, her wellbeing would always be his primary concern.

“Kaya.” He placed his hands on her waist, steadying her. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” She blinked several times, blinding lights obscuring her vision. “I—can’t—" Kaya felt the firmness of his chest, inhaled the scent of his cologne, and heard her name on his lips before everything faded to black.

-----

She awoke on her side, body clutched against a pillow, and a thin sheet covering half her body. Never one to take her time returning to her senses, she forced herself to sit up, eyes still scrunched from the sleep.

Looking down she realized she was dressed in only one of Chris’s dress shirts, her dress discarded.

Memory returned as Kaya replayed the events that transpired prior to her slumber. The photoshoot. The party. The asshole.

Chris.

“I don’t care. Tell them to send it in the mail or something.”

She recognized his voice traveling from the living room area, prompting her to swing her legs over the bed, her toes submerging into the soft carpet. She’d never been in such a fine hotel where the carpeting probably cost more than six months’ worth of rent on her one-bedroom apartment.

“Evans, I don’t give a flying fuck about any of that right now. You can handle it. I don’t care.”

Kaya contemplated remaining where she was, eavesdropping without being detected. She quickly decided against it. She’d done enough.

Her feet carried her out of the room, and she stood in the doorway where she saw he was standing against the massive window that provided a breathtaking overview of the city.

Again, she considered leaving him be, but he either had exceptional peripheral vision or caught her reflection in the window because he spun around. Kaya’s eyebrows furrowed when she realized he was still dressed in his suit, with the expectation of the jacket and dress shirt which were both discarded, leaving the white undershirt.

Uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her, more concern than that, she settled onto the sofa, pulling a decorative pillow to her chest as she crossed her legs.

“I have to go,” he spoke briefly before pulling the phone from his ear and hanging up.

Kaya swallowed. He’d yet to speak, so she took the opportunity to do so. “Still don’t believe me when I said I’m a hot mess?”

“What happened tonight, Kaya?”

“Which part?” She knew that playing coy wasn’t the best route, but she was forever stubborn and would fight until she had nothing left. “Where I ruined your evening, assaulted a millionaire, told you one of my deepest secrets, or fainted in your arms? There’s a lot.”

“All of it.”

She looked away and licked her lips. Kaya felt cornered, absolutely trapped. Emotionally. She’d always assumed being physically stuck would feel far more suffocating and frightening. She was wrong.

Kaya considered her options, though far and few in between. She could deflect. She was a master at that. She could redirect blame onto him. Call him out on even making her go on the trip, for not telling her ahead of time what to expect, maybe throw in a few insults. And lastly, the most frightening of them all, she could be honest.

That was the scariest of them all.

“I lied to you.” The words spilled out before she realized it, but Kaya accepted the fact that she was tired. There was only so much she could carry, and she’d reached her limits. “My—my parents aren’t dead. They still live in the same house in Parlier that I grew up in with Denes. He’s—he was my brother.” It felt strange talking about, verbalizing what she’d quietly struggled with for so many years. And yet, there was a peace that accompanied the release. “He was such a beautiful little boy, but….different. He didn’t talk much, life skills were….hard for him, and he had these fixations on certain things. He didn’t like change.”

“Kaya, you don’t—”

“When I was eleven, and he was eight, my parents found out they were pregnant. They’d been trying for so long….they were so happy.” She roughly wiped at her face to do away with the silent tears that fell. The crying, however, was inevitable. “One day, they had a checkup appointment, and the babysitter fell through, so they asked me to watch Denes.” She nodded slowly, reverting to the same rush of emotions she felt that day. “I was so….mad, because my friend had just gotten Guitar Hero, and I was supposed to walk down to her house so we could play it.” To that day, Kaya felt a strong surge of rage whenever she ran across a throwback picture or read an article referring to that game. It was a trigger.

“My parents promised that I could go when they returned, but I just couldn’t wait.” Her nose turned up with disgust, disgust directed 100% inward. “I just had to go play that stupid fucking game.”

“Denes loved birds. They were one of his fixations. They think—they think he saw one outside our living room window or something and walked outside to see if he could catch it because, of course, I forgot to lock the front door.” She stared off into space before closing her eyes. “I had just walked into my friend’s house when I heard someone scream like I’ve never heard a scream before.” Kaya tugged the pillow closer to her chest and lowered her head. “I ran back so fast because I thought—I thought I could help him. I thought I could save him.” Her voice cracked. “—But there was so much blood, and he was so hurt—he died in the middle of the street, bleeding, terrified, and it was all my fault.”

Chris closed his eyes and shook his head. “Kaya—”

“They never found the driver,” she added quietly, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “The shock of it all……it was too much for my mom, and she miscarried.” Kaya laughed, but there wasn’t a trace of humor. “I spiraled after Denes passed. Everything bad and terrible I could get myself into, I did. I—I skipped class, I partied, I drank, I tried drugs.” She scoffed. “I lost my virginity when I was thirteen to some guy whose name I still don’t know because I was so drunk.” She leaned back into the sofa, staring at the intricate pattern of the rug. “I just—at the time, I thought if I did enough, I could make my parents hate me, because it’s what I deserved. But for everything I tried, they kept giving me chance after chance.”

“So, then I attempted suicide, twice, and I couldn’t even do that right.” She groaned and wiped at her eyes again. The cuffs of the shirt were nearly soaked. “I realized that God or the universe or whomever clearly wanted me to suffer and to live with my guilt, but in the midst of trying to punish myself, I failed to realize that all I’d done was cause my parents more pain.”

“Day of my high school graduation, I woke up at the crack of dawn to pack up my bags, told my parents that I was going out with some friends, but I’d be home by 7—and I haven’t seen or spoken with them since.”

She clapped and lifted her hands. “And there you have it. You’ve now seen me naked; you’ve seen me cry, and now you know that I’m a murderer—”

“You’re not a murderer, Kaya,” he was finally able to complete his sentence, still very much in shock over what she’d disclosed. “And what happened to your brother wasn’t your fault.”

Chris watched her demeanor soften, shifting from her previous facetious tone to a more somber tone. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m saying it because it’s the truth. You were a child.”

She shrugged sadly. “So was he.”

“That still doesn’t make it your fault.”

She turned away from where he sat across from her. She hadn’t even realized he’d moved from his initial position by the window. Untangling her legs, she moved the pillow to the side and stood in front of him. “Why are you so nice to me? You should be running for the hills.”

Chris brought his hands to her waist and pulled her in between his spread legs. “Why do you keep asking questions you already know the answers to?”

“Even after everything I’ve done?” She whispered, emotion betraying her for the umpteenth time that day. “You—you still—you still feel….like that about me?”

“You’re stubborn, impulsive, argumentative, flippant, and undoubtedly one of the most complicated women I’ve ever met.” He slowly stood up, never once breaking eye contact as he cupped her face, fingers brushing away the dampness of her flushed cheeks. “And yet, seeing you smile is the highlight of my day.”

She chuckled and nervously cleared her throat. “So, was today subpar? Like, medium light? Half-light? It all went downhill after 12pm.”

He shook his head and kissed her forehead. “You are, in fact, a hot mess.”

Her fingers grasped at his sleeves. “I really am sorry about ruining your evening.”

“You didn’t ruin my evening, Kaya.” He brought his hand to her hair, pushing back the tendrils that had fallen from her updo. “Thank you for opening to me. I know that wasn’t easy.”

“It’s a lot easier opening up my legs,” she muttered, watching as he closed his eyes. “I’m sorry—you’re right. It’s—it’s not easy, and I don’t like talking about….feelings.” Her eyes lifted as she chewed on her bottom lip. “But, I do have feelings for you.” She shut her eyes and licked her top lip. “And there’s something else I need to tell you.”

His gaze softened. “Anything.”

It was so simple, the opportunity was available, the setting was perfect. She’d already told him the hardest part, now all she had to do was tell him the rest. The problem though, was that what she’d shared hadn’t changed much. It only helped him to understand her better. It would potentially improve their relationship.

This would destroy it.

She cleared her throat again. “If you tell anyone I’m capable of crying, I will smother you in your sleep.”

He chuckled and kissed her temple. “It’s late. I’m going to shower.” He studied her. “Try not to get into any more trouble, yeah?”

She smiled softly. “I make no promises.”

He gave her side a gentle squeeze before yawning as he walked back into the bedroom. Finally alone, she fell back onto the sofa and hugged the pillow against her body. Kaya felt both disgust and frustration. If there was a perfect moment to tell him, that was it, and now it was gone.

She was running out of time

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TAGS: @islandvamp @toni9 @destinyg237 @tashawar @valkryienymph @letsshamelessqueen-m @missyperle @kpizzletrash @brittyevans @mani-lifes @amorestevens @periodtcevans @hello-therree @shegoesbyarose @lettytheletdown @yanniebunnie @iwrite4poc @nycoledon @fangurlingismyforte @babe-im-bi @amirra88 @cocoamoonmalfoy @goldenrosexx @liquorlaughslove @ljstraightnochaser @jurneesjourney @bestyums-ever84 @notacamelthatsmywife @champagnesugamama @cest-la69vie @yanniebunny5151 @goldenrosexx​

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[gagmebucky]

hiiii i wrote this awhile ago but took it down because i was 👉🏼👈🏼 embarrassed about it (because i do not have the skill to pull off peter parker) and sorta still am but everyone’s been so nice to me about it i thought the best way to repay the kindness by posting it for those who did like it 😅 (originally inspired by spider man 2 with andrew garfield but loosely set in the 2018 issue of the amazing spider-man.)

in which the guys are making fun of peter and accidentally see a video of him fucking you. (includes avenger!peter x girlfriend!you, peter’s pov, voyeur!steve and voyeur!bucky, a sex tape featuring d/s dynamics, bondage, praise kink, exhibitionism, unprotected sex.) 

do not repost.

—

Despite being twenty-one years old; a proper adult who lives with his high school sweetheart, a photographer doubling as a seven-year veteran vigilante in the dangers of New York, Peter Parker is still considered as a super-powered amateur to his seasoned peers. 

Nonetheless, given his success in countless battles in the state, country, world and even galaxy-wide, he more than qualifies to hold the title of Avenger; it’s official now. A laid-back induction ceremony and his very own identity card: a sturdy rectangle, shiny with full clearance and all. Yet, as an official member, his teammates still treat him like he’s that same goofy, out-of-his-depths sixteen year old.

To be fair, yes, his style of heroism isn’t the most serious. He favors levity in the face of danger, a cheeky flare with smart quips and an infuriating grin. Even after taking a beating from the worst of foes, his demeanor never wavers because in the end, he wins. The villains are slayed and the people are saved, even comforted by the boyishly confident way he works. 

But beyond that persona, he has grown into a skilled warrior. On that note, he wants to be regarded as such—at least, to a certain extent. The jokes and teasing, poking fun at his age or the shenanigans he gets himself into, don’t bother him. No, his playful wit handles it with relative ease, and he’s a good sport about it. The only thing that he’d want to see change is some recognition that he isn’t a naïve kid anymore and is fully capable of taking charge when needed.

With his recent acceptance into the gifted pantheon, he’s intent on making that known. The jesting can continue but he wants it to be with an understanding of his capabilities. Luckily, a perfect opportunity has presented itself to showcase his abilities: a training session. 

He’s late. And yes, he knows that’s probably not a good impression to make.

In his own defense, it isn’t technically his fault. He forgot that you, his personal alarm clock (amongst other things), left early this morning because you volunteered to help his aunt move. Four years of mornings and nights, he’s gotten used to—and prefers—your languorous wake-up call.

Without your reminder, he regains consciousness fifteen minutes after the scheduled time and ends up scrambling to the compound. In a flurry, he throws on his suit—unknowingly backwards, he realizes later—trips at least three times over his own footing before he finally springs out of the balcony with webbed bursts.

When he reaches his destination, Captain America and the Winter Soldier are unimpressed; mid-simulation, it powers down. Both super-soldiers whirl around to face him, fixing raised eyebrows at his disheveled arrival.

He adjusts his now front-facing suit and shuffles forward into the space with as much confidence as an interrupter can have. “H - hey, guys,” Peter greets sheepishly and manages what he hopes is a charming smile, absentmindedly fidgeting with his phone. “Lookin’ good for a couple of geezers.” 

Unfortunately, Steve Rogers is not charmed or disillusioned from the tardiness. “You’re late, Parker.” His arms fold, and he shakes his head when punctuating his disapproval with an echoing, “Again.” 

Thankfully, to his right, more relaxed and cool, Bucky Barnes steps up. “C’mon, Stevie. Y’can’t be that surprised,” he chimes in matter of factly, contrasting against his friend with amusement sparkling in his blue eyes. “What’d you expect with Parker?” He gestures at the younger superhero. “Kid’s gonna be late to his own wedding.”

(Beside the point, but worth noting, he will not be late to meeting you at the altar. That is, of course, if you accept when he pops the question. Which is going to happen relatively soon, considering he has the ring in his nightstand drawer.)

The consult seems to relax him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right and—Peter, you—seriously, man?!” Steve sputters the last bit when he glanced over to see him blatantly check the notification that’s vibrated in his hand (on the device that is ruled to be stowed away during training). “Now the phone?!” 

Even though he shouldn’t, being on thin ice with Cap and all (pun not intended), Peter’s gaze flickers down to see your contact name appear on the screen, and he can’t resist. While Bucky guffaws a laugh at his audacity, he’s swiping up to pull up your text thread. 

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:37AM: spider boyyyyy you’ll never guess what i found in a box labeled ‘peter’s junk’ ;;;)

peter, 10:37AM: those magazines are NOT mine and i don’t know how they got there.

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: not quite but close, naughty boy

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: for a man who depends on keeping secrets and a penchant for home movies, you might ought to keep a lock on your phone unless you want someone to see me like this...

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: (video attached)

Immediately, he recognizes the pornographic thumbnail. One glance, and he’s remembering the first couple of times you guys explored the exhibitionism side of things. It was at the end of his freshman year of college and taped on a phone he thought he had lost. But he must've forgotten it at his aunt’s house, and she tossed it in the box until you came along. 

Although there’s been plenty more made, he recalls that one being a shared favorite, his especially. When long-distance duty calls, it was his go-to media. The angles, your face and body beneath the lights, the sounds it caught, you once asked if he considered switching to cinematography instead of photographer

Subconsciously, his teeth run over his bottom lip, feeling that blazing spark of desire igniting in the pit of his gut, partially at the memory and partially at what’ll happen once you guys can re-watch it together; his thumbs start typing away with that message.

“Peter!” Steve’s exasperated voice snaps, but to no avail—the real gall of the youngster, or the effect of you. His weight shifts toward his best friend, and he nudges him with his elbow. “Kids these days!” The hundred-something year old’s gaze cocks a brow back over. “Is that why you were late? Blowing off training to text your girlfriend?”

The text delivers with an audible bloop. Finally, his concentration gives, and he can look up, though his expression is clueless from the last minute. “Huh?” His brain registers what he missed, and he winces. “Sorry, Cap. My bad.”

Bucky chuckles. “Give him a break, Steve,” he faux comes to his defense, a teasing quality underlying his tone. “He’s young and in love. It’s not his fault he’s pussy-whipped.” He cracks him an antagonizing grin as Peter rolls his eyes. “He can’t go an hour without sending those little weird pictures with heart eyes, or she might not know he’s thinking about her.”

“As if you know anything about romance, old man,” he fires back and presses past them with squared shoulders, correcting him quite seriously: “And they’re called emojis, by the way. But that’s not what I was doing, if you want to know so bad.”

The brunette tilts his head thoughtfully, and small hackles arise for reasons he doesn’t understand, or pay attention to. “You know, I do want to know really badly,” Bucky decides and poses a question to his left, “Wouldn’t you, too, Steve? Aren’t you curious what his girlfriend sent that was so much more important than training?”

The blond mimics his actions and clicks his tongue. “Yeah, I am.” 

Peter’s eyebrows pinch while his skin tingles and the hair on the back of his neck stands straight up. “What—” Before his senses process it, one of the super-soldiers plucks his phone out of his hands and darts back beside his best friend. His jaw drops as he tries to follow after him. “Bucky, you asshole—”

“Some spidey senses, huh?” The Winter Soldier lifts it high over his head, utilizing his six-foot stature against his five-ten like elementary school bullies do and older siblings to their juniors. “Haven’t ‘cha heard about sharing with the class?” He laughs and practically stiff-arms him to squint up at the screen. “Aw, he can’t wait to see her. What’s it been, more than two hours since you two saw each other last?” 

Conceding to the height difference, Peter stops his physical efforts and diverts it to someone reasonable. “Cap, you gonna help me out here?” he addresses the entertained onlooker in the most friendly voice he can manage. 

“The kid’s got separate anxiety not just from his girlfriend but phone too, Buck,” Steve drawls with a lopsided curve of his lips. He side-steps Peter to stand next to Bucky, and for a second, he thinks he’s on his side despite the tease, but he simply adds a stern, “So be careful. You don’t want to break it, or Parker will have a fit.”

Peter crosses his arms and scowls. “Ha, ha,” he retorts dryly, only somewhat amused by their banter. He tilts his head up at them, and the duo look thoroughly pleased with themselves. “You know, you guys are kind of dicks.”

“No, we’re your mentors, kid,” Steve corrects with a wink and rests his arm on his friend’s shoulder. “This is a lesson. No phones—” He jabs his thumb back in reference to the device’s unlocked screen: “—when you’re supposed to be training.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky chimes in upon glancing up from his phone. “And a little advice, women don’t like clinginess. Try being a little more stern and see how that works for you. If you’re able to manage that. But I won’t hold it against ya if you can’t.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter patronizes with a bob of his head, biting back a response pointing out the hundred-something year old’s inexperience. Instead, he focuses on the electronic readily loaded up with some private content. With that, he decides to do the rational and mature thing and ask nicely. “Noted. So, uh, can I have my phone back now?” 

To his shock, Bucky merely flashes a smirk and his thumb scrolls half-heartedly over the thread. Thereafter, he leans toward Steve and raises his cell for him to see. “Oh, look, it’s a video,” he teases. “What could Y/N send that would take priority of training?” 

There’s an unspoken let’s see then a metal finger taps the play button. Before Peter can think, much less react, Captain American and the Winter Soldier are watching how he effortlessly renders his pretty little girlfriend into a cute nonsensical yet eager mess— 

In his point-of-view shot, the ratio holds in portrait view in a bid to capture every bit of you. Above you, the camera focuses on you and your beautifully debauched state beneath warm lighting where it’s unalienable that the camera was made for you. 

Your eyes are dilated brightly, desperate with desire as your lashes flutter up at him. A sheen coats your features and glistens like glitter at the highest points of your face while the shape of your face is framed by your stretched arms. 

Your wrists are bound over your head, splotched with expertly sprayed strong, white webs. The mesh sticks them together in a criss-cross, comfortable but nearly impossible to break out of, fixed in place atop his headboard. The tautness tugs a mild strain on your figure so your breasts are jutting out like an offering, and it’s obvious he’s taken advantage of it. Darkened marks adorn your glowing complexion, peppered across your décolletage with imprints of his teeth; including your nipples, sucked swollen and tender. 

The angle trails down until it reveals the sight of him mercilessly pounding inside of you. His better-than-average girth is sliding in and out of your tight channel; slicked in shared translucent essence, creaming around the base, your inner walls visibly clinging to his cock with every backward stroke. His hand splays on your mound, using his thumb to abuse your engorged clit. He easily keeps the sensitive nub pinned under his control despite your wildly twisting hips. 

Like the display, the soundtrack is equally obscene. Loud, your stuffed depths gush and squelch as skin slaps rhythmically. Your breathy, wanton moans overshadow both, drawn out whimpers, almost nonsensical other than the syllable of his name. A melody of neediness, you sound so fucking pretty, (depraved, like a whore, you once told him during your little film marathon with a sly smile), and for him specifically.

The frame pans upward and confirms you look just as good. A perfect mess, unhinged by the skilled ministrations of your boyfriend. Passion beads on your forehead like reflections off of a diamond. Panting, your lips are plumped from kissing parted with mewls of pleasure. 

“P - please—I need to—can I - I please—” You’re begging like the sweet little thing you are, incoherent babbling the result of his excessive edging. Of course, you know better than to give into the sensations ravaging you; instead you ignore your visceral desire and ask him for your release. “Peter, please!” 

A deep chuckle vibrates behind the camera as his big hand slides into view, trailing over your jiggling tits to the slope of your throat. “Maybe,” he says breathily and grasps the line of your jaw between his fingers. “Open your mouth first, babe.” 

No more preamble necessary, you follow his direction, your pink tongue flat over your Cupid’s bow. Immediately, a long string of his saliva drips into view and onto your taste buds; the vulgar act is accepted with a swallow and a quivering moan of, “T - thank you.” 

“Good girl,” he praises huskily, and the voiced approval has you visibly shivering. “Alright, then, pretty girl. Make it good for me, and c’mon—”

Before your otherworldly reckoning washes over you and his teammates can watch your bliss immortalized in film, Peter snatches his property back. 

Not much force is necessary as Bucky’s grip has been stunned loose. A dark expression permeates on young hero’s face but not because of embarrassment; if he was still nineteen or eighteen, he would’ve been mortified that his titular superiors caught a depraved glimpse of his sex life, on both his and your behalf. Rather than, there’s just a flit of annoyance when he folds his arms.

“Shit,” Bucky is the first to speak, exhaling the swear raggedly. His blue pupils have widened in obvious attraction, dilated dark, blinking rapidly as if it’ll help calm him down from the clip of you, his innocent seeming girlfriend, all ruined and begging. “Parker, fuck, I - I didn’t know you got down like that.” 

There’s a swell in his chest, pride beating steadily while he remains reticent-faced. He prefers you keep your bedroom activities secluded there. Yeah, he likes to be in control and you like to be controlled but it’s only in a sexual nature. Yet, their reactions—stunned, embarrassed and viscerally affected—surges smug satisfaction he’s never known before through his veins. 

Even the prestigious Captain America is bothered, though he may try to hide it. He clears his throat, a flustered pink coloring his cheeks. “Peter, uh,” he says, barely maintaining the confidence to look him in the eye after witnessing his girlfriend like that. “We - we shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like that.” 

“Uh-huh,” is Peter’s response, a hint of a smirk curling on one side of his lips. “Why don’t you guys call me after you’re finished with your cold showers, and we can actually train. Until then, I’m gonna go to my girl who’s more than eager to handle mine.” He pauses. “Maybe if you guys ask nice enough, I might let her show you how well I’ve trained her.”

[thekrawratalksbnha]

alright let’s talk: what is up with the todoroki family (bnha 291 analysis and theories aka 2k+ words of word vomit as i try to process this chapter)

so. we have new information and it’s not really what a lot of us were expecting. i know that i at least was expecting a story that aligned pretty closely to the story we got from shouto — just with a more, uh, tragic ending. 

but well…that was wrong. so lets talk about it. what we know about the todoroki family, what we assume and try to figure out what their deal is. 

so grab your beverage of choice, a snack, get comfortable, because this is probably going to be a long ride. 

where it started:

ah yes. the sports festival. what an arc. and of course, it’s the arc that kicks of the “keeping up with the todorokis” arc we all know and love. here, todoroki spills his tragicTM backstory with midoriya and we are off to the races. 

it’s the conversation and subsequent thoughts from shouto that shaped our understanding of the todoroki family. 

so quick rundown of what was revealed:

endeavour bought rei. it was a quirk marriage and endeavour was only after rei’s ice quirk. 

shouto was raised to be a hero who surpasses all might, to fulfill endeavour’s own ambition

shouto only remembers his mom always crying

endeavour created shouto to surpass all might

generally implies that at this point in time, he doesn’t view shouto as much more than a means to an end (his perfect little doll, anyone?)

he’s not impressed with shouto’s rebellion

he views shouto as his greatest creation, his masterpiece

he was already in training at 5 years old, trained to the point in which he threw up (revealed in shouto’s memory)

shouto was kept separated from his siblings (revealed through memory)

rei states that the children are becoming more like endeavour and that she sees endeavour in his left side (revealed through memory)

endeavour sent rei to the hospital after that for injuring shouto (revealed through memory)

shouto had suppressed memories of rei and her encouraging him to still be a hero and that his power is his own

so wow a lot of information provided in this arc. and it’s really important to recognize that it’s this information that most assumptions were built off of. any new information provided up until now could reasonably fit into the narrative shouto laid out in his conversations and his memories, and so they were. 

but was that wrong to do? in re-examining this arc, and in light of new information there are a few key factors that should be addressed:

it’s almost entirely from shouto’s perspective. all the information we get is through shouto’s eyes. (with a little bit from endeavour — but not much)

shouto is a kid, the youngest and in this arc has already proven he is capable and did forget and misremember incidents and events. his perspective is in no way 100% reliable.

shouto only blames two people for the negative events in his life. himself, and mainly — endeavour. in this arc (though it has since seemed to change), he was willing to and did see endeavour in the worst light possible (for valid reason but nonetheless, he wasn’t inclined to give endeavour the benefit of the doubt)

the point of going over this? in moving forward breaking down the rest: it’s really important to consider that there is valid reason to believe that shouto could be wrong. or maybe not wrong, but not fully right either. like us, he’s probably made assumptions about his own family based on his own experience. and while most of it is probably founded and he has good reason to believe it that doesn’t mean it’s true. 

so how can we figure out what is true? 

other perspectives:

good thing we’ve got a few other perspectives to look at. so what do we know from the other members of the todoroki family. 

rei has been pretty far removed from the family since her hospitalization. she’s been improving and now has a good relationship with most of her children. she actually vouches for endeavour to natsuo despite everything.

fuyumi lives with shouto and endeavour. she is the most vocal about wanting to give him another chance, and has hopes for them to be a family again.

natsuo was close with touya before he “died”. perhaps the most against endeavour out of the bunch. endeavour was a stranger to him but natsuo holds the neglect and treatment of shouto, rei and touya against him.

notice so far there is a pretty definitive through line here. 

rei and fuyumi both seem more inclined to give endeavour another chance. both reference positive attributes and fuyumi has admitted to wanting to be a family again. 

natsuo and shouto (to different extents) both never reference anything good endeavour might have done. the closest we get seems to be shouto admitting endeavour is a good hero. both never reflect on their relation to endeavour with anything resembling fondness. and while shouto seems open to idea that endeavour could try to be better, both have made it clear that they are unfamiliar with what a “better” endeavour would look like. 

the most important note here considering the new information: natsuo and shouto are the youngest in the family. natsuo is four years old than shouto, meaning most of his memories are probably from after shouto’s birth (ie after endeavour got his “perfect” child), with a few from a few years before. and obviously shouto has no memories of a time before he was born. 

fuyumi and rei on the other hand, both probably have a fair amount of memories from before shouto. fuyumi would have been around 7 at the time of shouto’s birth and rei of course has been around since the beginning. 

so why does this matter?

well because it makes it a lot easier to understand some of the information we received in 291. speaking of which, now that we’ve established all this — let’s dig into that. 

the pre-shouto family

291 gives us the first time we see the todoroki family before shouto’s birth. and again, while making no arguments on whether or not todoroki enji was a good father or not, it’s clear that it was very different. 

some major points:

endeavour speaks about touya in a way that is very different from the way endeavour spoke about shouto back in the sports festival. and in general. it’s unclear if this difference is related to how endeavour feels about touya and shouto or if it’s a pre-atonement v seeking-atonement endeavour. nonetheless - it’s interesting to note. 

endeavour comments about being fine (happy?) with the fact that neither touya or fuyumi had his dream quirk. while he hadn’t forget about it, at the time he believed touya could fulfill his ambitions and wasn’t necessarily pushing for a child with the half-hot/half-cold quirk. 

touya wanted to train. the scene in the training room with touya was very different from the scenes with shouto. despite the harm his quirk caused him, touya seemed to be enthusiastic about training.

rei agreed to having more kids thinking that it would be good for the siblings to be able to encourage each other. the siblings weren’t separated before shouto to our knowledge. 

endeavour reveals that he kept searching for touya. 

an important note: all the perspectives—literally all of them—contradict each other to some extent. i talk about how all the todorokis are unreliable to some extent here, but for the purposes of this chapter: i’m assuming endeavour’s to be the most correct. largely because at the time of the events in question age-wise, endeavour was the most capable of remembering accurately. he could very well be downplaying things, or have misread situations — however, since his atonement arc begun, he’s been able to recognize some his wrongdoings and the pain he cause his family. i’m not saying his perspective is entirely true, just that it’s probably more accurate than dabi. regardless…

so once again i pose the question: what the fuck does all this mean?

well…

endeavour was probably kind of…okay, until ~around~ shouto’s birth. 

the implications of what that means for shouto sucks. but given the information we have, that seems like the most likely situation. but let me be clear:

i’m not saying he was good. i’m just saying he wasn’t awful yet.

and when you think about it, it makes a lot more sense them him being awful the entire time. it’s clear that no matter what, endeavour was after someone to succeed him and be better than him — but it’s the most overpowering when he talks about shouto. 

yes. he did marry rei at least partially because of her quirk. but keep in mind that we don’t have any reference for how they met/got married beyond shouto, who as previously established isn’t the most reliable in regards to his family’s dynamics. 

BUT while he did train touya, it didn’t seem to be as forceful as it was with shouto. if they were more of a family unit prior to shouto’s birth, a lot of rei and fuyumi’s accounts, feelings and beliefs have a lot more foundation. fuyumi’s aspirations for the todoroki’s to be a family isn’t unfounded because she has memories of a time that they were, unlike natsuo and shouto. rei’s belief in endeavour having the potential to be a good man makes a lot more sense if there was a time that he was. 

keep in mind that while the endeavour we know was very focused on the rankings, he did ultimately choose to be a hero. and that has connotations about his character. 

so at long last what is up with the todorokis. 

well let me give you my best guess:

what if enji and rei married — not necessarily out of love, but not a straight up arranged marriage either. i think maybe enji initially noticed rei because of her quirk, and they went through some weird strange version of courting. obviously, they had conversations because at some point he learned that about rei’s favourite flower. so maybe it wasn’t love. but with the information we have from all sources, i think there is a lot more we don’t know yet about this story.

they had their first kid, touya. when touya’s quirk developed, enji probably started teaching touya how to use it. the two of them probably spent a lot of time together and enji’s approach to training touya was probably much gentler than his approach with shouto. he also was well aware of touya’s weakness since it was a more extreme version of his overheating. nonetheless, touya wanted to be trained and endeavour could see the potential touya had, putting his ambitions on his first son.

rei and enji agreed to have another kid. rei wanted touya to have a sibling and enji was still hoping for someone with a balance of both quirks. when fuyumi didn’t have both, he thought it was fine and continued forward working with touya. 

now we have next to no information about the time around natsuo’s birth. my guess is that things were pretty status quo. the scene with touya and enji in the training room, touya looks to be somewhere between 5-7 maybe. so i’d guess that it took place somewhere around natsuo’s birth (probably shortly after)

i think that scene, is when enji probably started to realize the hard limit touya was facing with his quirk. which could have been the start of a downward descent. maybe endeavour started trying to train the weakness out of touya. maybe he got more intense. maybe he started neglecting touya at this point. it was probably the first big step onto the major slippery slope endeavour was about to go down. what he wants is no longer necessarily achievable and his ambition begins to get the better of him.

he probably was slowly starting to guess that maybe touya wouldn’t necessarily live up to his aspirations — but he still didn’t have a better option. 

and then shouto came into the picture. 

i’m not saying shouto’s birth was a complete 180 for endeavour. nor was it in any way shouto’s fault. but i do think it was the figurative final straw in enji’s descent. the catalyst.

by best estimate touya would have been around 9 when shouto was born (running off of the theory that dabi currently around 24). so sometime between dabi being 9 and 14, enji put all his attention onto shouto. 

and think about that moment: shouto is born and at some point it becomes apparent that he has the quirk endeavour has dreamed of. and the reactions start to make sense here. 

endeavour who has long since dreamed of this, forgets everything else. it’s a point of obsession for him. up until now, half-hot/half-cold was theoretical. and he fucks up big time. cuts off the other kids, is brutal to shouto, because he has a clear path to victory now. shouto just has to be perfect. and this cause not only for him not to really view shouto as a kid. but also to destroy his relationship with touya. 

touya still a young kid at the time goes from probably training and spending time with his dad everyday to never seeing him. after having the entirety of his life up till this point being told that he is endeavour’s successor, he’ll be able to do what endeavour couldn’t and then getting replaced, it’s a jarring shift. and it makes dabi’s grievances make sense. 

everything touya has known has changed going from being the favoured child to being completely ignored and neglected. and cue his rapid descent. his crying to natsuo about why he existed because he doesn’t know anymore. the fact that ultimately the belief up until this point was that he pushed his quirk too hard alone and that lead to his death. his taunting of shouto as a puppet for endeavour. 

meanwhile shouto is suffering through what we know he’s been suffering through. 

and yeah from here on out, endeavour is an awful dad. but as of right now, most of the evidence in my best interpretation of it leads to the idea that maybe he wasn’t as awful at the start.

but also, it gives reason for endeavour’s “redemption” arc. when he got what he wanted in becoming number 1, his whole reason for creating and hyper focusing on shouto was reduced to nothing. so he starts to realize the affect his ambitions have had on his family. the idea that endeavour could be capable of any sort of true atonement feels a lot more likely if you consider that he has and has demonstrated the ability to not be a flaming piece of trash person in the past. 

the want for atonement, todoroki enji’s current characterization just makes a lot more sense if you view it as something that didn’t come out of nothing. as something that was always there, just pushed aside in favour of relentlessly pursuing his goals. and it makes sense that the real bad stuff would have kicked in once it seemed like his idea failed with touya and then receiving exactly what he wanted in shouto. 

so yeah: that’s what i personally think is up with the todoroki family history. there’s so much to talk about and i definitely missed somethings so full apologies if i forgot about any glaring facts. 

there’s a lot more that could be said. and there’s some smaller topics related to somethings mentioned here that i want to dig into a bit more. 

until then, this has gotten way too long so anyone who actually made it to the bottom here—thanks! feel free to come yell at me about endeavour or dabi or shouto or anything else really. this is a super interesting arc and it’s great to see so many elements coming back into play. 

also i do want to mention: my whole stance on the “is dabi right? is endeavour right? who is good?” is pretty generally neither. i think endeavour and dabi are both very strong characters that operate in that morally grey area. while i’m not necessarily a fan of the endeavour redemption—knowing what we know now it makes a bit more sense to me. at the end of the day, right now, both have done awful things and neither should really be excused for what they’ve done. but no one has to be right or good. they are both deeply flawed characters and that’s what makes them very interesting to follow. so props to hori for executing them really really really well. love them or hate them, the parallel’s and arcs between endeavour and dabi are very interesting to explore, and i’m living for it. 

my opinion is in general to stop fighting over who’s right or good or at fault or justified and just like idk, enjoy the story. 

any way, i’m done. until next time!

[relenafanel]

Squats For Thots - Geralt/Jaskier | PG-13.

This is mostly one long dick joke I wrote as an excuse to use “Squats for Thots” as a title. It’s also mostly foolish men with crushes objectifying each other’s asses. #whoops. 

“The Countess likes her men a little more thicc, you know?” Jaskier said, burning through the starting set Geralt had given him surprisingly well. Well enough that he continued talking, though Geralt wasn’t sure the man ever stopped. “Likes something to hold on to.”

Most of the men Geralt saw at the private club thought targeted exercises were a quick way to improve what they considered to be small problem areas, like there was a cheat sheet to looking like a Hemsworth that wasn’t partially genes. Most of them thought they were a personal trainer away from movie-star abs, and Geralt wasn’t there to disabuse them of the notion.

“I figured,” Jaskier continued, breathing through his final 20, “if I found the trainer with the best ass in the place they’d be the person to show me how to turn this slab into fab.”

“Do you ride?” Geralt asked, making a note to make Thursday’s session more intense.

 “Yeah,” Jaskier said, finally sounding out of breath. He batted his eyelashes and Geralt also made a note to recommend the man invest in a sweatband if it was going to make him blink like that, especially since Jaskier didn’t seem to be perspiring hard yet.

 “How many times a week and for how long?” 

 Jaskier opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked flustered and then flummoxed, though Geralt pretended he didn’t notice since he couldn’t figure out why. Then Jaskier laughed. “Ohh, you mean a horse,” he said. “Not often, not since adolescence, though I can still manage a decent seat when needed. Why? Should it be part of my training? I can’t say I’ve noticed all equestrians have a juicy booty but I don’t know if I’ve been looking for the trend.”

 “Hm,” Geralt answered, aware it wasn’t an answer at all. “My job today is determining your limits.”

 “Yeah,” Jaskier agreed, probably because they’d already been over this before starting. There was also that flirtatious lilt to it that Geralt was realizing he should have been able to identify from the start. 

 Fuck.

 Jaskier was one of those people who stopped by the club a few times a month and spent more time off to the side drinking smoothies and watching the people around him than he did exercising. It was a surprise he was able to keep up with the exercises Geralt had designed to easily break him. “Your lower body is better developed than I assumed.”

 “Thank you for the compliment, even though I think what you really mean is you assumed my fitness level is the same as a 3 year coma patient and tested me accordingly. I don’t think I’m even insulted by that. Though we could have saved some wasted time if you’d ever seen me naked.”

 Geralt leveled him with an unimpressed expression designed to ask ‘why would I want to do that?’

 Jaskier flushed but didn’t look particularly embarrassed or emasculated, which was maybe the first thing he’d done in his favour. “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug, “why does anyone?”

 ****

 “I hear you’ve taken on the Viscount de Lettenhove as a client,” Lambert said, looking far too relaxed against the bar. 

 Geralt shrugged. He had six new clients since the last time he’d spoken with Lambert and the name didn’t sound familiar.

 “Lord Julian?” Lambert continued. “Has a reputation for being very generous in bed, both generally and -“ he made a vague gesture to his dick. “A good third of the people at the club have either already had sex with him, want to have sex with him, or a combination of both. During your session last week, Rodgie said Lettenhove fucked him so well he thought he was gay for another three months, like he’d gone temporarily blind to the charms of women it was so good.”

 Geralt scowled. 

 “I’m just repeating what he said. Don’t pretend you’re beyond gossiping about this.”

 “I can’t place the name,” he admitted instead of answering that. Beyond gossip? Apparently not. Seeking it out? No. Especially about someone referred to as Lord Julian.

 “Really? Tall-ish. Handsome-ish. Good with his hands. Treadmill squad can’t seem to take their eyes off him. Was in on Thursday.”

 New client. Thursday. “Jaskier?”

 “Yes,” Lambert agreed with a snap of his fingers. “That’s the name he uses. Rich people, eh?”

 Jaskier?

 Lambert shook his head. “I can’t tell if you just don’t notice people or if you genuinely aren’t into dick, sometimes.”

 ****

 Geralt was into dick.

 Sometimes.

 ****

 He noticed. 

 Not anything different about Jaskier. The man still talked his way through whatever exercises Geralt threw at him, far too flirtatious for comfort, and never really seemed to notice that he was being openly appraised by almost every single person on exercise machines. 

 But Geralt did. 

 ****

 It wasn’t that Geralt noticed Jaskier, it was just that Jaskier was standing at the smoothie bar on a day they weren’t scheduled to work together and he noticed the incongruity of seeing Jaskier on a Friday morning.

 Wearing shorts.

 It wasn’t really the shorts that kept his attention, it was the same thing about Jaskier that he’d noticed from the first moment they’d started working together - Jaskier’s damn legs and those calves that told of a less sedentary lifestyle than Jaskier pretended.  Geralt didn’t understand why someone would stop by the gym in a health club only to lounge around doing nothing if they obviously spent a lot of time working out their legs (at least).

 It took him a bit longer than it should have to realize he was gawking just as badly as Jaskier’s damn treadmill fanclub. He turned his back and pretended he was very interested in something else. Anything else.

 “Hey,” Jaskier said, handing Geralt the second smoothie in his hands. Geralt was sure the person overdoing it on the rowing machine wilted in jealousy. “Are you in a session?”

 “Technically,” Geralt said and took a sip of the smoothie. It tasted like summer. 

 Jaskier grinned at him. “No show?”

 “Sauna.”

 “That’s an option?” Jaskier asked, but looked more amused than anything. “And here I’ve been exercising like a chump”

 “It’s an option.”

 “Of course, I wouldn’t leave you out here fully clothed. Seems like a waste.” He grinned at Geralt, sly in a way that included Geralt in the joke.  “Maybe you could advise me on the best ways to steam it up.”

 “It’s an option,” Geralt repeated.

 “I…” Jaskier started to say and then closed his mouth.  “Really?”

 “But if you do, you won’t make any progress.”

 “In my butt or with you?” he blurted out.  “And yes, I can hear that sentence is one finished thought away from a dirty joke but I’m going to be the bigger man here.”

 Geralt seriously doubted that.

 “Oh my god. Are you one finished thought from making that into a dick joke?” Jaskier looked delighted.  “Yass, Geralt.”

 The sauna door opened, and Geralt prepared himself to finish the last five minutes of the hour, which consisted of making sure his client was hydrated before sending him on his way, rather than continuing this conversation with Jaskier.  

 “Wait,” Jaskier said, with a hand on Geralt’s arm. “Is there something I can make progress on?”

 Geralt shrugged.  There wasn’t NOT something, which he knew wasn’t an answer either. 

 “Ok, so, that’s not a no. I acknowledge it’s not a yes, but it’s also not a no, and you’re not someone who has trouble with the word no. So.” Jaskier waved his hand, spraying smoothie from the top of his straw.  “That’s cool.”

 That’s cool, Geralt repeated in his head as he walked away. He probably should have said no just to save himself the pain of hearing that’s cool.

 ****

 “There’s a rumour you’re about to get laid,” Lambert said on their bi-weekly meet up for beer. 

 “That’s cool,” Geralt said with a shrug.

 Which, honestly, was worth it just for the look on Lambert’s face.

 ****

 “Ok,” Jaskier said on Monday, which also wasn’t one of their scheduled meetings. He showed up like some kind of annoyance mirage wearing a brightly coloured shirt and shoes meant for lounging. Geralt was in the middle of helping the Earl of Something’s second son work off his weekend bender. The man had run off to puke twice already and Jaskier’s shirt wasn’t helping any. Neither was the way Jaskier snapped his fingers in front of his clammy face. “Off you go, you’re looking a little peaked.”

 “Thank you!”

 Jaskier rolled a yoga ball over with his foot and perched on it, crossing his legs. It occurred to Geralt that Jaskier was like a male peacock posturing, with his vibrant clothes and stupid pose. It also occurred to Geralt that he shouldn’t be into it.  “We should go out for coffee and stuff.”

 “Fine.”

 “What?” Jaskier said, losing his balance and almost falling on the floor.

 “Coffee and stuff. Fine. Let’s go out.”

 “I…” Jaskier opened his mouth. Closed it.  “Expected more of an argument and to maybe leave disappointed.”

 Geralt shrugged.  “Why?”

 “I don’t know!” Jaskier threw up his hands and then stood.  His movements had an ease to them that they wouldn’t if he didn’t fucking exercise somewhere. Geralt was going to figure it out because he was pretty sure if he asked anyone they’d say it was from sex and life didn’t work that way. “Because you asked me if I ride and meant a horse!”

 “You stop by the smoothie bar, grab a lounge chair for a few hours, and take a nap whenever you come in.  Something needed to account for your legs.”

 Jaskier started laughing.

 “Don’t say it,” Geralt told him with annoyance.

 “You noticed,” Jaskier stressed. 

 ****

 “I hate that I know why you look so relaxed,” Lambert grumbled.

[hopelikethemoon]

California Vacation (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]

Title: California Vacation  Rating: Explicit Length: 4100 Warnings: Fluff and Smut (cock warming, modified doggy style) Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in late May 1998. Outfit inspo here. Summary: Reader and Javier take a well deserved vacation. 

@grapemama​ @seawhisperer​ @huliabitch​ @pedropascalito​ @rogrsnbarnes​ @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns​ @gooddaykate​ @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @plexflexico​ @readsalot73 @hdlynn​ @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale  @roxypeanut​ @snivellusim @lukesrighthand​ @historynerd04​ @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper​ @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie​ @swhiskeys @lady-tano​​ @beskar-droids​ @space-floozy @cable-kenobi​ @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes​ @findhimfives​​ @pedrosdoll​ @frietiemeloen​​ @arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour​ @heather-lynn​​ @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl  @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato @coredrive​​ @pascalesque​​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​ @queenquazar @sabinemorans​ @buckstaposition​​ @holkaskrosnou​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @fleetwoodmactshirt​ @seeking-a-great–perhaps

This was the life. 

Top down convertible, hair loose in the breeze, Javier’s hand on your thigh as he drove along the coast. It was perfect — like something out of the movies. You could take a hundred pictures and still not quite capture the way you felt. 

And sure, you missed the girls, but you had both desperately needed a little time away from everything. After the way the DEA story had landed, you both needed to get the fuck out of there for awhile. Without the kids. 

Connie had initially suggested Mexico — Cabo, to be specific. But how the hell could either of you sit on a resort beach and not think about the cartels just beyond the American tourists? The DEA was the last thing either of you wanted to think about.

You reached down and rested your hand over Javier’s on your thigh, slotting your fingers in between his, you ran your thumb over the side of his hand. “I can’t get over how gorgeous this place is.”

Javier tilted his head, grinning at you as he caught your eyes. “Then you fit right in with the scenery, baby.” 

“Drive.” You rolled your eyes, squeezing his hand. 

He chuckled, running his hand down your leg, “What?”

You bit down on your bottom lip, winding your fingers through your hair as it whipped around you in the wind. There wasn’t a bad view to be found here. 

Javier looked good on vacation. Even after only one night in California — which was mostly spent dealing with jetlag at the hotel — he already seemed relaxed. And relaxation suited him. 

You reached over and played with the hair at the nape of his neck. His lips drew upwards with an easy smirk as he tilted his head to look at you, “Enjoying the scenery?”

“Very much.” You grinned. Even after all these years, Javi still managed to let loose butterflies in your stomach. The way he made you feel hadn’t dissipated. 

The winery the concierge at the hotel had recommended was still partially under construction — but the tasting room and vineyards were open to the public. It was insanely gorgeous, to say the least. The Castle, as it was referred to, was an ornate mansion fashioned after the French Normandy style — and there was nothing like this in Florida. In fact, it looked like something you had seen on Travels in Europe with Rick Steves. 

Not that you and Javier curled on the sofa on Sunday afternoons and watched travel shows on PBS. One day, you’d manage an honest to God trip beyond the realms of North and South America. 

Javier walked around the convertible to open the door for you, “Ever the gentleman.” You teased as you took his hand and stepped out of the car. You leaned over the side of the car, grabbing your purse and situating the strap across your body. “Shit, this place is insane.” You remarked as you interlaced your fingers with his.

“When they’re done with all the landscaping, this is going to be one hell of a destination.” He remarked, gesturing to the upturned soil along the pathway where they’d clearly recently put down seed. 

“I think they’re set to open next summer — officially.” You explained, shielding your eyes as you took in the scenery. “I think we might have to come back.” 

He shrugged a shoulder, “We could make it a yearly trip.” 

“Hopefully we don’t have a reason to escape every year.”

“You don’t think a nice post-semester getaway — just the two of us — sounds like a fantastic plan, baby?” He questioned with an easy smirk as he released his hold on your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in so he could steal a kiss. 

You pursed your lips as you pulled back, reaching up to ruffle the hair that fell against his forehead as you considered his suggestion. “I could be tempted.” You grinned at him and leaned in to kiss him again, before you escaped his grasp. “Come on, the tasting starts at noon.” 

Javier pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and followed after you up the pathway. “In all my life, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a place like this.” He remarked as he took your hand again. “I’m feeling underdressed.” 

You snorted, “You look fine, Javi.” Your eyes raked over him — dark denim jeans and a short sleeve linen button up suited him. “Better than fine if I were the judge.” 

There were already several other couples and groups waiting in the tasting room when you both arrived. They offered tastes of their 1994 Estate Merlot, before ushering everyone onto a tour of the winery and the vineyard. You had never really made a study of winemaking practices and you actually found the whole thing rather fascinating. 

“The day is still young,” You remarked as you leaned against the side of the convertible, arms folded across your chest as Javier came to lean against the car beside you. “We could go to the beach.” 

Javier glanced at his watch, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “I think Bodega Bay’s probably an hour from here.” He nodded his head in agreement. “You got the map?”

“Am I not the trusty navigator?” You teased as you moved to stand in front of him. “We can eat dinner there and then head back for cocktails at the inn.” You suggested, resting your hands on his shoulders as you leaned in to kiss him. 

He rested a hand at the small of your back, as the other gently cupped your cheek. 

“Newlyweds?” Someone questioned, interrupting the moment. 

Your brows furrowed together as you turned your attention towards the woman who had spoken, “Excuse me?”

“I have a keen eye. It’s easy to spot a pair of newlyweds.” The older woman stated, smiling between the two of you. “Are you on your honeymoon?”

Javier chuckled, raking his fingers through his hair as he gave your hip a squeeze. “Sorry to disappoint, ma’am, but we are neither married nor on our honeymoon.” 

You stifled a quiet laugh, by the woman’s flummoxed expression. 

“Really?” She clasped her hands together, “I could’ve sworn that was the case.” 

“We’ve essentially been together for almost eleven years.” You admitted, your fingers curling around Javier’s as you took his hand. “I guess it’s nice to know we give off honeymoon vibes.” 

“I’m the wedding planner for the estate,” The woman offered, extending her hand as an introduction. “Sheila Wise.” 

“It’s nice to meet you,” You said politely. “The grounds are going to be beautiful when things are finalized.” You gestured back towards the mansion. “I can see the appeal of getting married here.” 

“Are you local?”

Javier shook his head, “Florida.” 

“Well, welcome to California. Are you staying nearby?”

“We’re staying in Sonoma at an Inn for a few nights,” You explained, leaning against Javier. “We just got in last night actually.” 

“You two must be awfully jet lagged.” 

Javier chuckled, scratching at his jaw, “It’s no worse than having a newborn. You got any recommendations? We’re in Sonoma until Tuesday and then heading to the coast mid-week.” 

“And then San Francisco,” You added. “We fly back out next week.” 

“You should drive down to Armstrong,” She suggested. “You’re less than an hour away and with the weather today, the forest is going to look beautiful.” Sheila looked between the two of you. “Oh, you two really are just a lovely couple.” 

You blushed, “Thank you.” 

“We were actually considering driving down to Bodega Bay,” Javier reminded you, squeezing your hand. “You wanna hit the Redwoods today?”

You shrugged, “I’m easy. We are staying at the coast later this week.” 

“Alright, baby, let’s go look at trees.” He winked at you, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand before he turned back to Sheila. “Thanks for the recommendation. We might be back next year to see the progress.” 

“Do you mind taking a picture for us?” You questioned, releasing your hold on Javier’s hand and leaning into the car to grab your camera from where you’d stowed it under the seat. 

“Of course!” Sheila took the camera from you, gesturing for the two of you to pose. 

You cupped the side of Javier’s jaw, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek as he grinned at the camera. You didn’t have nearly enough pictures of the two of you together. She took a second shot with you leaning against him, his arm curled around your waist. 

“I hope you have a wonderful visit,” She said warmly as she passed the camera back to you. 

“She is a remarkably spritely old woman,” You remarked once she was out of earshot and you were settled into the car, sorting out a route on the map that would get you to the state park. 

“Hope you’re that spritely when you get old like me,” Javier quipped with a smirk, taking his sunglasses off and tucking them into the front of his shirt. He stifled a yawn as he rubbed at his eyes. 

“Wanna go back to the hotel?” You questioned, leaning over to play your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. “We can go poke around the plaza in town. Find somewhere to eat.” You brushed your knuckles against his cheek as he turned to look at you. “This is supposed to be relaxing, not exhausting” You reminded him. 

“Gotta reserve some energy for tonight, right?” He remarked, tracing his tongue over the edge of his teeth as he met your gaze. 

“You mean since we fell asleep last night?” You quipped, giving his leg a pat. “We can sit on the patio and crack into the bottle we bought.” You bit down on your bottom lip as you met his eyes, “And then we can have fun.” 

Javier leaned over and kissed you, “I’m looking forward to it.” He brushed his nose against yours before starting the car up. 

 ————

 “Why didn’t we settle in California instead of Florida?” You questioned, setting aside your menu as you looked across the table at Javier. “It’s not as hot as hell like Miami is.” You shook your head. “This is the right way to dine al fresco.” 

Javier took a sip of his wine and sank back in his seat, looking quite relaxed as he looked around the bustling downtown plaza area. “You know what the best thing is?”

“What?”

“We don’t have to worry about people recognizing us.” He rubbed at the side of his neck. “Yeah, it was national news, but everyone knows we’re in Miami.” 

You sighed heavily and shrugged your shoulders, “It was a lot.” Dealing with the back and forth in the newspaper had been emotionally fatiguing. “I don’t know what I expected, honestly. I just wanted it out there. You know?”

“Yeah,” Javier nodded, rocking his jaw. “I don’t regret it. It needed to be done.” 

You nudged his foot beneath the table, “I know everything coming out like it did wasn’t ideal. But it’s not like either of us have ever pretended to be someone that we’re not.” 

“It was pretty fucking clear the DEA had some idea about who they thought I was.” 

A faint smile cracked at the corner of your lips, “Everyone’s wrong about you, but… I think we cleared that up.” 

Javier snorted, “On the front page in black and white. I still wish Vickers had given us a fucking heads-up.” He made a face, “That was the most uncomfortable class of my life.”

You laughed, reaching for your wine. “Did they think they’d break us?”

He gestured vaguely with his hands, “Probably. I mean the whole thing blew up in their faces. Painted me out to be a saint and threw a half dozen of their guys under the bus.” 

“It opened up a whole new scandal,” You pointed out. “I’m kinda glad the whole thing took the pressure off us. Elena is a saint.” 

“We should get her something,” Javier suggested. “Think Hallmark has a card for that?”

You tapped your finger against your lips thoughtfully, “We should write in with the suggestion.” 

Javier leaned forward and took your free hand into his, “Dear Hallmark,” He began, barely keeping a straight face. “Please write a greeting card for when you need to thank a hooker you slept with nearly a decade ago for orchestrating the mass confessional of Colombia’s finest.” 

Your head tilted back as you laughed, “Please put that in your autobiography. “

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, “It’ll be in there.” 

The waiter came then to take your orders. Javier ordered a fancy sounding Tortellini Alfredo with prosciutto, while you opted for the Eggplant Lasagna. Despite dinner and wine being more than enough, you both managed to share a serving of tiramisu before walking back to your hotel. 

“Do you miss the kids?” Javier questioned as he stepped out onto the balcony with the bottle of wine you’d purchased at the winery. 

“A smidge.” You admitted to him as you pulled your robe around your shoulders, relaxing into your seat. “Monica assured me that she’d call if there was any trouble.” You scooted your glass across the table for him to fill it. “And she hasn’t called.” 

“I suppose that’s reassuring,” Javier’s gaze flickered to your face as he filled your glass, pushing it back towards you. “You buy that just for the trip?”

You nodded your head with a smirk. “I figured we needed a little treat.” You smoothed your fingers over the satin ruffled sleeve of the dusty rose robe. “And I don’t actually have any robes.” You brought your glass to your lips and took a sip. 

Javier chuckled, “It’s a good look on you.” He remarked, picking up his glass and taking a sip as he stepped around behind you, his eyes turning towards the horizon. “Hell of a view.” 

“The mountains are gorgeous. They’re so different from the ones I grew up with.” You reached up and rested your fingers over his hand at your shoulder. “I’m guessing hiking is off the agenda?”

He gave your shoulder a squeeze as he walked around and sat down in the chair across from you, “Who do you think I am?”

You snorted, “Alright, alright.” You took another sip of wine before you rose to your feet and moved around to sit on his lap. “Better?”

“Much better,” Javier assured you, resting his hand at your hip as he sat his wine glass aside. “Did you have fun today?”

“I did,” You said with a nod as you slipped at your wine. “That winery was gorgeous. Can you imagine living in a house like that?” 

“Makes our house feel like an apartment.”

“Right?” You sat your glass down on the table next to his, shifting in his lap to face him. “Did you have fun?”

“Of course I did, baby. I spent the day with you.”

“Ugh, gross.” You scrunched up your nose, but kissed him nonetheless. You nipped at his bottom lip, fingers cupping his jaw as you sank into the kiss. “Sometimes you say the corniest shit.” 

“You bring that out of me. You’ve only got yourself to blame, baby.” He told you, rubbing his hand down the top of your thigh where the robe fell against your skin.

You scraped your nails gently down the back of his neck, fingers toying with the soft hair there, before you dragged them through his hair. “Oh, it’s my fault you make dad jokes?”

“Well, who made me a father?” 

“Me. Twice.” You rolled your eyes. “I must be crazy or something for facilitating your descent into dad jokes.” You tugged at his hair. 

Javier played with the tie of your robe, loosening it just enough for him to slide a hand inside, his fingers playing against your bare side. “You like my corny jokes. Don’t lie.”

“I never lie.” You traced your finger down his nose. “Back in Colombia, you were definitely funnier than Murphy.”

“Only way to keep sane.” 

“Seriously,” You pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I think Josie is going to have our brand of humor. She’s already so sassy.”

“She’s all you.” Javier tilted his head and stole a kiss. “Sofía — I’m not sure about.”

“She’s grumpy, just like her father.” You punctuated your sentence with a kiss to his lips before you moved to slide out of his lap. You snatched up both glasses of wine and moved towards the doorway back into your room. 

Javier had loosened your robe enough so that it fell open completely as you stood in the threshold. Beneath the robe was a pair of satin shorts and soft bralet that matched, both edged with white lace. And given the look on his face — he was thrilled with the choice.”

“Like what you see?”

“Goddamn, baby. Sometimes I think you’re intentionally trying to give me a heart attack.” He remarked as he slid the balcony door closed behind him. He sat the half-drunk bottle of wine aside as he kicked off his shoes, “You look fucking incredible.”

Even still he managed to make your cheeks warm. You finished off your glass of wine, before setting his down on the nightstand. “I thought you might enjoy this.” You remarked as you let the robe slide off your arms and pool by your feet. “I might have another one saved for when we get to Sam Francisco.”

“You spoil me, baby.” Javier ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Holy shit.”

You perched on the side of the bed, trailing your fingers along your collarbone as you watched him undress. He slowly worked the buttons of his linen shirt loose, before tossing it aside carelessly. “Come here, Javi.” You requested, spreading your legs as he approached you.

Javier laid you back on the bed, draping himself over you as his lips claimed your mouth. One of your legs curled around his hips, grinding against the growing bulge in his jeans. You could feel the hard line of the zipper pressing against you and you sought friction from it. The satin fabric cling slickly to your cunt, the satin darkening there as your arousal grew. 

Fuck. The man knew how to kiss. Lips hungry against yours as his tongue plundered you like you wished his cock would. God — you were aching. Wine always managed to make you horny. 

You tugged at his hair, desire spark through you at the groan that left his mouth from the gesture. “You like that, Javi?” You taunted. “Our lives might’ve been printed on the front page, but there are so many things only I know about you.”

Javier grinned down at you, “To the grave, baby.”

“To the grave.” You repeated as he dipped back down to kiss you again. You worked your hand in between your bodies, fingers desperately working to get his jeans off. 

He took a step back, undoing his belt before he shoved his pants down his hips and kicked them off. Your eyes flickered downwards to his erection, clearly straining in his boxers. “I feel like I should invest in satin.” You teased, “You seem to really enjoy it.”

Javier rolled his eyes, “Fuck you.” 

“Wish you would.” You retorted with a smirk, running a hand down your torso, before playing your fingers over the soaked crotch of the satin. You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a sound as you circled your clit through the fabric. “Javi. 

“Middle of the bed, on your stomach.” Javier told you, his eyes snapping to your face. You wanted to taunt him, to drag this out longer — but the flint of control in his eyes made your stomach flip with desire. 

You complied, putting a little sway in your ass as you crawled onto the bed and laid down flat on your stomach in the center of the bed. 

Javier moved to join you, the bed dipping under his weight as he moved to straddle your upper thighs. He ran his hand down the center of your back, a tender touch that came in sharp contrast with the sudden slap he delivered to your left ass cheek. You jerked, grabbing the sheets as you cried out in surprise. 

“Baby, was it too much?” He questioned, rubbing the cheek he’d just injured. “Shit—“

“It’s good. Very good.” You assured him.

“You know your safe word, baby.”

“I do. And I don’t plan on using it.” You countered, wiggling beneath his weight. “Don’t tease, Jav—“

You muffled the next cry of pleasure against your pillow as he delivered a second slap to your right cheek. It was probably wrong just how much you enjoyed it. The pain that merged into pleasure. 

“You’re fucking soaked, baby. Fuck, look at this perfect pussy.” He drawled out as he dragged his fingers through your slick folds. The touch was just teasing at first, gathering up your arousal and smearing it all over his fingers. 

You lifted your hips towards him, desperate for more. You bit down on your bottom lip as you felt his fingers tease at your slick center — working one and then two fingers into you. The angle was perfect, making two fingers feel tight within you. A precursor to what you were desperate for. 

Javier worked his fingers in and out of you, dragging them right over that sweet spot without ever giving it his full attention. You could feel the pleasure coursing through your veins, but it was never enough to push you over the edge. 

You moaned into the comforter, as he kept his fingers within you and stroked them over that sweet spot. That pleasure causes you to be caught off guard as his free hand landed against your bare asscheek. 

“Fuck. You clenched so tight around my fingers, baby. Think you’re ready for me cock?”

You flipped him off in response, amused by the low rumble of laughter that escaped him. Javier slid his fingers from your cunt and replaced the with his cock. 

He fed it into you slowly, sinking inch after inch into you until you squirmed beneath him. The angle was incredible. You could feel every inch of his cock stretching you. 

Javier palmed at your ass, gripping them tightly as he worked his cock in and out of you. Every forward thrust had him hitting that sweet spot within you, your body so ready to come for him. 

He stretched out above you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as his cock stayed seated within you. Javier took your hands into his, keeping them pinned to the bed beside your hands. “That’s it, baby. Be a good girl and stay still for me.”

You drew in a shaky breath, the roughness of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “Keep it right there.” He ordered you, releasing one hand so he could curl it loosely around your throat. He wasn’t trying to leave a mark, they’d be too hard to hide in dresses and bathing suits. 

“Are you just going to stay like this?” You questioned, grinding back against him as you clenched around his length. 

Javier squeezed your hand, “Is there a problem with that?” He questioned, bucking his hips forward, “Just stay still, baby.” He soothed, dragging his fingers down the column of your throat. “You feel so good like this.”

It did feel good. You could feel every inch of him buried within your cunt and the weight of him crushing you into the mattress was a relished sensation. It felt like every part of him was pressed against you. 

He released your throat, brushing your hair aside as his lips hovered by your ear, “I want you to come for me, baby. Can you do that for me?”

You swallowed thickly, “Like this?” He nodded, kissing your shoulder. “Javi.” You begged, clenching around him again.

His fingers tangled in your hair, his grip tightening as he started rocking into you, a slow and steady thrust — one where he barely pulled out before he was pressed back into you.

You shifted beneath him, grinding back against his every move. “Fuck!” You gasped, feeling your body flutter around his cock. “Goddammit, Javi.” You urged. 

“Do you want me to stop, baby?” He questioned, his hand moving to give your hip a reassuring squeeze. “What do you want, baby?”

“I don’t want you to stop.” You told him hastily. “I just want you to fuck me. Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Javier pulled away from you, sitting back on his knees — using the angle to drive into you again and again. 

This was what you had wanted. Javier pounding you into the mattress until you forgot what your name was. Javier fucking you until all you could was come around his cock as he spilled into you. 

It was the best way to start vacation. 

[aleniksimmer]

Hello..I was meant to create an update post regarding everything in these days. The situation was starting to get better in general but then it crushed and I'm still trying to collect the pieces.

I wasn't able to post or answer cause things were already going shit. As you know, my cat was recovering from chest infection and sudden diarrhea due to the strong antibiotics, only in the last week we are letting her free to go in the garden during the day, but back in the cage at the evening. So that was going well. Then my cousin's dog that lives with us disappeared while he was out in the fields around our house to poop. My aunt and I spent hours walking around the fields at night with fog to look for him. Thankfully he was found by a person on the other side of the river (he walked a lot and was able to not be hit by cars) that contacted her vet who contacted the police due to privacy who contacted my cousin as soon as he was contacting them. We think he has been scared by some loud noises and ran away cause he was disoriented. On top of this my brother broke both of his elbows and needed a cast, now removed cause he is completely heal. That's why I was planning to update, everything was starting to going fine and I was finally able to finish Evelynn.

But then my dog started feeling sick. It looked like a stomachache as usual, she happened to have them during particularly cold days and throwing up during these times was normal. The first day she was feeling sick she was almost normal, she spent more time than usual in her dog house but she was coming out when called and she was eating normally. The second day she was even more inside her house and she looked a little sad, but again this was normal behavior if she was having a stomachache. In the evening she started to throw up, and again, it wasn't news for stomachache, but I still called the vet despite the hour. She said to remove the water and food and see if she's getting better in the morning. I swear I didn't saw blood in the discharge, just a lot of water and some pieces of food she ate. I was thinking it wasn't that bad, we can bring her to the vet in the afternoon, my cat lasted almost a week not being able to eat/drink or stand up, Mandorla was still responsive. She watched me as I was taking care of Ecliss and Stige, she even started looking a little less sad after I removed the water and she stopped throwing up. She was walking around, she was starting to accepting pets better, I petted her a lot, I examined her, I hugged her, I didn't expected to be the last one to stay with her. I thought we could go through this too. And then I woke up with the news she wasn't here anymore. The whole world crashed down. I spent the day in and out of consciousness, I don't remember what I did, I know I took care of my cats but the rest is just a blur, I just remember crying. My mother and brother took her to the vet hospital for the autopsy, they want to know what happened, both the old vet and Stige's one said she might have eaten rat poison, even if my dad assured me no one used it for a long time (we live near a ditch but she shouldn't be able to reach the trap, and I don't think she went near it lately). We're going to get the result Wednesday and I'm afraid, I already feel it's partially my fault, I should have immediately brought her to the vet despite everything, I don't know, I feel like I failed her if it was something preventable, I should have been more careful, I should have paid more attention. I didn't understand the gravity of it and it's eating me inside. My family is mourning on its own way, my mother can't stand me crying so yesterday I spent the day feeling numb and everything came back at night when everyone was sleeping, I fell asleep exhausted due to crying. She's already blaming Stige and me for what happened, even if it has been two months since their last contact. The mood was already tight and this event didn't help. Everyone is dealing with it by themselves and most of the interactions are rough. I guess we just need time passing. The hospital is going to give her back to us so we can properly bury her in our garden, I hope this is going to give everyone at least some peace.

About the update post I was going to make, I'll put it under the cut, if someone doesn't want to read about the situation, they can skip directly to this. Taking care of my cats and creating is the only thing that's able to dull the pain a little for now.

I also wanted to thank all the people who left a message on my last post and contacted me, thank you so much for caring ❤️ I'm not feeling ready for conversations yet, but remember I really appreciate your kind thoughts, they're helping me not feeling alone with my pain.

About my CCs, I published a cyborg chest tattoo the other day, and then finished Evelynn from K/DA popstars (years late). I fixed the dress, but didn't touched the fur or the necklaces because the distortion is caused by uv_1 (body mass sliders) and I don't feel confident enough to edit it better. I hope you're still going to like the set. About the hair, the fringe has the same clipping problems as EA one, so I don't see how I can make it better (I generally trust EA with their vertex and weight paints). I made the glasses without transparency cause in the game and in the MV they're like this (they're obviously floating as any EA glasses). For the hairpin I had to improvise a little cause there wasn't any clear reference in the MV nor in the official 3D model. In any case it's modeled to work with these hair. Now I just need to create the LODs for everything, adjust the maps, create the previews and I can upload it. In the meantime I looked at the new kda designs (baddest and all out). I won't considered the chroma cause first I didn't know what they were (I don't play lol) and second I would need to create a piece for each one due to the normal maps of the tops and I'm not really into it. I decided I would also give a try to the Prestige popstars even if I have to use just the low poly game models and the official art for reference (also, can anyone explain me why they changed Evelynn and Ahri ps prestige design? It's a sincere question, I don't know anything about lol). I also would like to add true damage to the mix but we'll see, I don't even know if I'll follow a specific order. About Seraphine I don't know, like, her design in More is the only one I'll consider but it doesn't inspire me that much, plus her hair would be hell to make them work in TS4. We'll see about this too I guess.

On a general note, I need to edit the names and the CAS thumbnails of Ahri set (and fix some things), so please re-download the set when I update it (I'll let you know).

I hope Ahri and Evelynn look part of the same thing, despite a lot of time passed between their creations. Poses by LucienSims.

About Miraculous, I made the inactive turtle miraculous some time ago, but I don't think I'm going to continue with their set right now due to the current situation. I'm afraid I'm going to ruin my experience, plus we are only having spoilers and you know I don't like it. I hope I'll come back when s4 will start (I still love miraculous, don't get me wrong, I just don't feel like investing in it right now, I'm sorry). On a more "positive" note, my love for kda came back, and villain concept video is giving me strength (I know it's weird, but I really need something to keep me "above the water" these times).

[hazelenergy]

How I Digitally Paint like a Scenic Artist/Designer

Aka: how I did this and put my degree to good use. 

LONG POST WARNING

Step 1: Research. 

First off, get to your image search. If you are going to be using Google, you may want to type “-pinterest” in the search to eliminate the countless boards. 

I had to figure out clothing that is vaguely late 1800s. I found a multitude of reference images that were fancier clothes- but I wanted to find images of clothing for kindred across all social classes. Photographs from the era and paintings are your friend. They will more accurately showcase what was worn. 

After Fashion research comes location research. The 1890s in America is known for the rapid industrialization. Factories were getting bigger and work days were getting longer. But, I wanted the moonlight to be cascading into the place, illuminating the scene. This means I needed to find a structure that had skylights or let sunlight in. And the best images I found? Slaughterhouses. Fitting, huh?

The same rule for fashion still stands- if you can find photographs or paintings from the era- they’re better. There are tons of places still standing today from the 1800s. But today, they look WAY different. Ya know, Abandoned! So just be sure to take this into consideration if you search “abandoned slaughterhouses” or go trespassing like I did.

Lastly, pose research. Finding the poses for a fight scene can be tedious. So, I enlisted some help from a few fight choreographers and stunt men. You can record their fights and play them back at quarter or half speed. You can also get a mirror and flop on the floor a bunch. I did both. This lets you see the action/motion lines you are going to replicate in the drawing.  Heres how we initially did fina’s pose:

And sometimes you have to go back and get a clean shot. I ended up using this pose for the axe.

Step 2: Set up and Background!

When you open a new file, set it to the dimensions and resolution you want. I was working at 600. Usually, I’m working at 300-350. You can always reduce resolution. Its hard to prevent fuzzy lines if you increase it later. 

I cannot stress the following enough:

You work background to foreground. Big Shapes and areas to little shapes. Work your way forward. What this means is you need to fill in as much space as possible first. Then build your details. I prefer working as follows: Big Solid tones, Soft shadows, Dark Shadows, Highlights, then final blend. Once you finish this, put an overlay on top. This knocks everything back and helps create the illusion of depth. See this at work with the video below or here

Step 3: Figure Drawings + Composition

Utilize that research and images you collected to pose your characters. I create subfolders for each set of figures. Organization is important here. This will help keep you on the right layer and prevent the eternal digital artist struggle of “Fuck that was on the wrong layer!”

Even after you move on to lineart and shading, Keep the sketch layer as a reference. You may need to see what youre original notes/ figures looked like as you do the lineart and shade. Don’t be afraid to move them around and alter the composition rn. You want to be able to make changes. Make notes! Detail light sources! 

I’m about to through out some art jargon:

You want to think about asymmetric balance. The easiest way to achieve this in an eye-pleasing manner is to use the Fibonacci spiral. Yeah. This boi:

Place your figures and actions in a similar sequence to the spiral and the viewer’s eye tends to naturally follow it. This is sometimes called the Golden Ratio in the art world. 

Doesn’t need to be perfectly on the spiral. You can break it- but its an excellent tool to plan how things move in the piece. 

Step 4: Lineart

Once you got things sketched- its time to do the lineart. I’m using clip studio paint’s standard brushes. Nothing fancy. I often switch between the G-pen and the For Effect Liner. Mapping and Turnip are for thicker lines. 

Usually I set these pens to a specific thickness depending on where I’m drawing.

My background figures are lined at 0.05 thickness, the midground is .1 to .2, Fina is .3 and the foreground is .4. I set my stabilization high to help keep my lines smooth. Stabilization 100 means there’s a significant delay between where the pen is and the cursor. I like the stabilization to be at 20 for freehanding and at 50 ish for outlining. Dont become completely reliant on the stabilization though. Good and smooth lineart is drawn from the arm not the wrist. Your range of motion is severely limited if you only move your wrist. Practice moving from your elbow and you’ll be surprised how much smoother your lines get. 

Once I finish lining the figures, I usually go around it with an outline. This does three things: 

1. Solidifies the figure and cleans lineart for paint bucket tool. More on that in the next step.

2. Its a stylistic choice. Helps give it that comic book feel with a heavy outline. 

3. Pushes figures forward or back in the composition. Thicker outline helps denote that a figure is farther forward than another. My background figures have no outline to push them away 

Step 5: Digitally coloring

For each figure you are going to select outside the lineart. 

Create a new layer under the lineart

Invert the selection. Paint bucket. You should now have a solid shape of the figure under the lineart. Do not deselect.

Create a new layer above the one color. Title it solid colors. Paint in thick, solid tones. I like to use the mapping pen and turnip pen to color in my solid tones: skin, clothing, hair, etc.  

After that, deselect. Create a multiply layer if you can. If your program does not have a multiplier function, Pick a tone you want to use for shadows and lower the opacity (usually 30-40% I like to use lavenders or blue tones). It will not be as vibrant, but you can edit it in post. Select off of the solid colors layer. I like to start with skin tones. Use the airbrush tool to create soft shadows. You don’t want to create harsh lines on this layer.

Then repeat this process with harsh lines.  

Then knock it all back with an overlay. If you dont have the ability to create an overlay, you can again drop a solid color and lower the opacity, but you’ll have to mess with the color balance/ brightness/contrast to let all the hard work come through. 

You’re going to repeat this for every single figure. Here’s a few color theory tips though.

Your overlay colors should be darker (not more vibrant) in the foreground and lighter (avoid using pure white) in the background. This helps with the depth of the piece. Things closer tend to be darker (not always true, depends on lighting)

You can choose to use color theory to aid your shadows. Instead of choosing black or grey for shadows, choose a complimentary color. I used a lot of green for this piece, I used red for really dark shadows. Its not that black drains color- its just loses some depth if not used carefully. 

Keep your colors consistent. Helps unify the piece. You can strategically break the consistency to draw focus. For example, Fina is the only figure with a true blue overlay. This helps her stand out from the other figures who have reds and greens. 

Step 6: Touch Ups and Final Renderings

Now comes the most tedious part. If you’re like me, your computer fans have been whirring for the last few hours trying to render this monster of a file. If you havent already,  SAVE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GOOD

These are the last four layers I have for the entire piece. Here, I am trying to create effective and believable lighting. This kind of work I have only been able to achieve in clip studio or photoshop. You can do it with normal layers, but choose your colors CAREFULLY. Stay away from pure white. Carefully utilize your knowledge of light and shadow to create soft highlights. Harsh lines tend to be a stylistic choice for me. The final layer, subtract, dulls out harsh red tones. I used this as a final overlay to help put everyone and everything in the scene. Without it, things are a little too green and skin tones are a little too blushed for vampires.

The challenge here is I want to tone down the red, but not lose the vibrancy of the blood. So, shift it to a blue. This also helped reinforce the “nighttime” effect. Its only a slight change.

Final thoughts:

Whenever you finish something, its important to reflect.

1. I am so FUCKING PROUD OF MYSELF. This is easily one of the most complicated pieces I’ve done in a while- and I’ve made 16′ tall faux stained glass. Brag. Let yourself feel awesome cuz you just made something awesome. 

2. I timed myself on the piece. I could have easily spent another 7 hours on it. But its important to know when to stop messing with it. Partially for budget reasons but also when you get down to the details you can make yourself go insane. Theres also a ton of detail work I lost cuz of overlays or its just too small to notice. Fina’s face? hard to see cuz its not close enough. 

3. I needed to take frequent breaks for this piece. That was good. Resting and stretching was very important. That is one of the reasons why I was able to work so fast. 

4. I started doing more digital art in April 2020. I have to say, practice makes perfect. I practice drawing and digital painting for at least 3 hours a day. 

That discipline has allowed me to improve so rapidly. So- I don’t wanna hear shit about I can’t possibly get this good! Or I couldn’t even draw a stick figure! BULLSHIT. You can. Get yourself some free software like Krita or Autodesk sketchbook and start playing! 

And thats what I got! Thanks for coming with me on this long post! 

[drabbles-of-writing]

Can We Keep Him? (pt 2)

This is part of my Uncursed AU

AO3

Masterpost

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

If there was one thing Eda hated most, it was boiling rain.

She could tell by the storm clouds gathering one was on the way. However, she currently had a possible buyer looking over what she had to offer that day. So she impatiently tapped her fingers on the table as she watched the witch hm and haw over every little thing she had.

A boom of thunder snapped her patience.

“Do you want anything?” Eda snapped.

The witch lifted his head and blinked at her, dumbfounded.

“Oh, no, I was just browsing.” He said cheerfully. “I spent all my snails earlier.”

Eda stared at the witch, her left eye twitching as her nails dug into the table.

“Then move along!” She shouted.

“Alright, alright! Jeez,” The witch grumbled, raising his hands and backing off. “Kids these days, I swear.” He mumbled as he hurried along down the marketplace.

Eda didn’t bother to retort. She frantically began gathering up her items in the table cloth. She picked up anything that had fallen and attempted to tear down her sign proudly stating; Human Collectibles!

She had nearly gotten the whole thing down before she heard something sizzle.

Eda whirled her head around. And sure enough, the first drops of boiling rain were beginning to fall.

Eda looked around frantically, spotting a stand that, thank the Titan, had a stone over it. She regrettably ditched the bag of human objects before diving for the shelter, wincing when she felt the drops of rain graze her right leg.

Eda crawled up underneath the shelter, pulling her leg close as she hissed out a string of curses. Thankfully, the burn on her leg wasn’t all that bad. Though it’d definitely bug her for the rest of the day. She considered using her magic to heal it, but decided against it. Using magic on such a small thing wasn't worth the effort.

“Sorry, Lilith,” Eda sighed, peering up at the cloud-filled sky. “Looks like I’m gonna be late again.”

She leaned back against one of the posts holding up the empty stand, settling in for a long, boring wait.

Until a yelp caught her attention.

,

Eda turned her head, looking back out to the open path in the marketplace. Off on the opposite side was an empty clay pot turned over. Beside that pot was a very familiar small plastic crown.

The pot lifted slightly and a black paw darted out, trying to grab at the crown before a drop of rain landed on it. Whoever was in the pot squeaked and instantly retreated their paw.

Only a few seconds later, the paw darted out again.

“Is that…?” Eda squinted her eyes.

Droplets of rain splashed onto the crown. It sizzled and hissed as the boiling temperatures of the water immediately ate away at the crown, bringing it down to a half-circle.

“No!” The pot lifted up higher, revealing the face of the self-proclaimed King of Demons, his face full of horror. “My crown! My beautiful, beautiful crown!” He wailed, once again nearly getting nicked by the rain and drawing his paw back into the safety of the pot.

“Hey, I know you!” Eda called. “Demon Lord, or, whatever your name was.”

The demon lifted his head, spotting Eda and perking up.

“Oh, hey witch lady!” The demon greeted. “You got any more crowns?” He asked hopefully.

Eda gave the demon a deadpan stare before pointing over at her abandoned bag of goods, which was now nearly completely eaten through.

“...oh,” The demon deflated.

“What are you doing out here?” Eda asked. “Everyone knows to get somewhere safe before a rainstorm!”

“Well--I--” The demon faltered for a moment before angrily fluffing up his tail. “Then why are you out here?” He retorted.

“Someone was ‘browsing’ my items when I thought they were gonna buy something,” Eda sighed, knocking her head back against the pole she was leaning on. “Apparently he didn’t think the oncoming wrath of boiling rain wasn’t something to be concerned about.”

“Personally, I think not boiling alive is worth more than a profit.” The demon said, dropping the pot back over his head before standing up, wearing it like a long hat that went down to his legs.

“You’re a demon, you don’t need money.” Eda snorted, watching the demon walk around in the open under the pot for a minute before skittering over towards her.

“...what are you doing?”

“It’s getting hot under here!” The demon said, hurrying underneath her shelter before ditching the pot and kicking it away. “This is a much more adequate roof for the King of Demons.” He nodded in satisfaction.

“Don’t you have, like, an owner?” Eda raised a brow. She reached out and grabbed his large gold tag.

“The King of Demons belongs to no one!” The demon snapped, tugging back and brushing himself off. “I am my own demon!”

“What’s with the collar then?” Eda questioned.

“I…” The demon blinked before looking down at his collar and fiddling with the tag. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Eda said disbelievingly. “How can you not know why you have a collar?”

“I just don’t know!” The demon snapped back. “But I like it!” He said, sitting down and crossing his arms angrily.

“...alright then.” Eda said, turning to look out at the rain.

When she had first met the demon, she had assumed he had been someones escaped pet, due to the collar. It would also easily explain the inflated ego and delusions. People spoil their pets all the time.

But if he didn’t belong to anyone…

“If I may ask, since we’re clearly going to be here for a while,” Eda said, glancing over at the demon. “Does the so-called ‘King of Demons’ have a name?”

“A mortal like you couldn’t bear to know the true name of the King of Demons!” The demon said, raising his head snootily.

Eda gave him a deadpan stare for a few moments.

“How about I just call you King?” She tried.

“That…” The demon frowned and thought for a moment. “That name will suffice.” He decided with a nod.

“Nice to formally meet, King.” Eda said with a bit of a smile, holding out her hand. “I’m Eda.”

“Eda...I can work with that.” King said, taking her hand and shaking it.

“Sorry about the crown,” Eda said, pulling her hand back and looking over at the pieces of scrap that were once some plastic toy. “I could probably find another one.”

“You would...find the King of Demons another crown?” King asked excitedly, tail wagging.

“Only because I feel bad,” Eda said, crossing her arms, though her smile only grew. “And you’ll have to pay me this time.”

King gestured to himself before holding his paws out at his sides.

“Do I look like I have money?”

“Then how about this,” Eda said, thinking on her feet. “In payment, you have to find stuff for me to sell.”

“Like...scavenging?” King tilted his head.

“Sort of,” Eda said.

She dug in her wild mane of hair before pulling out a small dark brown key with a yellow eye on it and showed it off to the demon.

“A while ago, I found this key to the human realm.” She explained. “It’s where I get all my items. Although, recently, it’s getting harder for me to steal stuff from their metal bins without getting caught.”

“Oooh. So you wish to enlist the help of the mighty ruler of demons, eh?” King realized excitedly. “Fear not! For I accept this offer. In exchange for a crown, I will hunt down the greatest human artifacts the Boiling Isles has ever seen!” He said, standing up and posing proudly.

“Thanks, King.” Eda chuckled, tucking the key back into her hair. “Hope you’re a good tracker, though. I don’t set up shop in the same place two days in a row.”

“Pssh, how hard can it be?” King waved his paw. “I just have to look for the loudest witch in the market.”

“Wha--says you!” Eda scoffed. “You’re the loudest demon I’ve ever met! I’m genuinely surprised I haven’t met you yet.”

“Yes, well, I’ve decided to grace this side of the Isles with my presence.” King said. “You’re welcome.”

“Gee, thanks.” Eda shook her head before reaching over and ruffling the fur that connected to his skull by his cheek.

King let out a weird ‘weh’ like noise and struggled for a moment, batting at her hand with his paws.

Which, now that Eda got a better look at them, really didn’t look too good.

Demons had tougher skin than witches, so a few droplets of boiling water wouldn’t cause severe harm. And yet, the way his skin was twisted and discolored from the burns he’d received made Eda's own chest twist.

“Doesn’t this hurt?” Eda asked, drawing her hands back and gently placing one of his wrists in her open palm.

“Eh, I’ve had worse.” King shrugged. “The King of Demons needs no sympathy.” He said, turning his nose away.

Eda frowned, worried about what ‘worse’ such a small demon like King could be referring to.

Her eyes drew to his broken horn.

She decided not to ask and pulled him a bit closer.

“Could I at least try to heal it?” She asked.

Eda had never been good at healing magic. Her best had always been defense and offense, not sitting on the sidelines and tending to the wounded. Lilith had more knowledge in that aspect, thanks to the Emperor’s Coven.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to try, would it?

“I...suppose,” King said, sounding suspicious. “Just be careful. I don’t want to chip a claw,” He said, this time sounding like he was partially joking.

“I won’t,” Eda promised before turning back to his paw.

A faint yellow glow came from her left hand and she brought it closer to King’s paw, eyes squinted in concentration as she gently pressed a finger to his burns.

King winced as though expecting to be hurt, though he didn’t pull his paw away.

Slowly, Eda ghosted her finger over the burns, smiling as she saw his previously gnarly skin untwisting and fitting back up.

“There we go,” Eda said, bringing her hand back. She couldn’t heal it up all the way, but now it was practically invisible unless you looked for it.

“Whoa,” King turned over his paw, mesmerized. “Do the other one, do the other one!” He chanted gleefully, sticking out his other slightly less-burned paw.

“Alright, hang on, hang on.” Eda chuckled, concentrating as she drew her glowing finger over the burns, bringing it to about the same state as his first paw.

“That should heal up on its own, now.” She said, letting him admire and study his freshly healed paws.

“Thanks...uh,” King squinted. “What was your name again?”

“Eda,” The young witch sighed. “It was Eda.”

“Right, Eda! Thanks. I'll remember next time.” King promised, holding his paws close.

Eda smiled at the demon. What had happened to him to make him so astonished that a witch would help him, she didn’t want to know.

But she did know that right then, she wasn’t going to be quite as alone out here as she thought.

“Anytime, King.”

[turnaboutnerd]

Verse-By-Verse Breakdown of “Guilty Love” and Analysis

I was chatting with some folks in the AA Discord about the official lyrics to “Guilty Love” and how it’s low-key a love song about Apollo, and I wanted to offer some meta analysis.

(You can listen here if wanted).

The first verse:

I found you in a stunning dress, I held you

You put your glass down and looked me in the eyes

“Where she we go now? JUST YOU AND ME”

But I can’t... I’m on my way to court.

Right off the bat, we’re introduced to a woman that Klavier is presumably dating. It’s worth noting that this probably isn’t a REAL woman — Klavier has mentioned in canon that his songs aren’t based in experiences — rather, she is a metaphorical girlfriend who represents his musical career, his fans, and, yes, his previous romantic relationships rolled into one. This girlfriend — that rockstar life — is stunning, but Klavier can’t give her the time she wants because he has court.

The second verse:

Turn the wheel left at the corner and there it is.

Your honor!

SO! Let’s get drunk on the thrill that’s about to start

Courthouse show!

I was going to have a SALTY DOG with you

But now I’m thristy for a glass of GUILTY DOG

Where’s the truth? To find your answer…

Go ask the wind!

This explains WHY Klavier is willing to leave behind his girlfriend. Court is a thrill for him. He addresses his girlfriend, saying he was going to have a “Salty Dog” (probably a reference to the popular alcoholic drink, which contextually makes the most sense) with her, but now he’s thirsty for a “Guilty Dog” — meaning, he wants to get a guilty verdict for criminals.

The last two lines in this verse are significant for reasons I’ll get more into later, but basically, this is the start of a repetition in which Klavier suggests they have to “ask the wind” for answers. There could be several interpretations for this, but regardless, asking “the wind” suggests there’s not going to be a clear answer. The truth is hard to find, after all!

The third verse:

This evening, I held a guitar in one hand

And took your hand with mine

Now I’ll sing you a love ballad JUST SONG FOR YOU

But I can’t… I’m on my way to a crime scene

This is a thematic repetition of the first verse. Again, Klavier chooses to leave behind romancing his girlfriend in favor of his judicial responsibilities.

The fourth verse:

Go down the stairs to the dance floor, and there’s…

A crime scene investigation!

SO! The Evidence, testimony, and dead body

Looks like they’ll start dancing!

Gazing up at the MILKY WAY with you

I’m praying for a GUILTY BREAK

What is the truth?

To find your answer… Go ask the wind!

The beginning of this verse is basically Klavier’s artistic manner of describing a crime scene at a dance club, with all the evidence and testimony and the body itself coming together in a “dance” as they try to uncover the truth. Then, Klavier sings about stargazing with his girlfriend; except, rather than thinking of her, he’s thinking of how he can get a guilty verdict for the criminal. Finally, Klavier repeats the wind lyrics from the second verse.

The fifth verse:

In the depths of darkness (LOVE LOVE GUILTY)

Reveal the truth behind the crime (LOVE LOVE GUILTY)

The journey to the next world is so far (LOVE LOVE GUILTY)

And the shadow is wandering (LOVE LOVE GUILTY)

I’ll search for the light, for the sake of your future

All this speaks to Klavier’s values as a prosecutor. Klavier is unique in the games in that, from the very beginning, he’s only concerned with the truth rather than win records, and that’s emphasized here with the phrase “reveal the truth.” He also talks about searching “for the light” (i.e. “truth”) “for the sake of your future.” This indicates that law is also important to Klavier, simply, because he wants to protect the innocent from having their futures cut short — whether by murder, false accusations, etc.

We also have the song title drop (at least in the Japanese version, which is “Love Love Guilty”). The main interpretation here in the context of the bridge is that Klavier is in love with the law and his job as a prosecutor versus his actual girlfriend.

The sixth verse:

Even those tears look beautiful on you

The day we part will come eventually

Let’s do it over if we can JUST YOU AND ME

But I can’t… I’m on my way to court

Klavier’s girlfriend is crying because he’s going to break up with her (“the day we part will come eventually”). Taking into account that the girlfriend is actually a partial metaphorical representation of his musical career and fans, this part also foreshadows Klavier breaking up the band to prosecute full-time. Even when he does suggest that maybe they could try the relationship over again later, he falls back on the exception that he can’t because he’s too dedicated to the law.

The seventh verse:

Turn the wheel left at the corner and there it is.

Your honor!

SO! Let’s get drunk on the thrill that’s about to start Courthouse show!

I was going to have a SALTY DOG with you

But now I’m thristy for a glass of GUILTY DOG

Where’s this love headed? To find your answer…

Go ask the wind…

... Or better yet, go ask Herr Forehead!

[Apollo] OBJECTION!

This is a verbatim repetition of the second verse — with a key difference. Instead of posing the question “What is the truth?” Like he did in V2 and V4, he asks, “Where is this love headed?”

Klavier suggests asking the wind again... and then adds, “Or better yet, go ask Herr Forehead!”

This part is entirely why I say “Guilty Love” is a love song about Apollo when taking the context into account. It’s telling that Klavier doesn’t suggest Apollo has the answers to the truth (which would make sense if he did — the two “discover” the truth in court together). No, instead, he suggests Apollo has the answer to where Klavier’s relationship with his girlfriend is headed.

Klavier already implied in the previous verse that his relationship with his girlfriend is ending — and why? Because he’s in love with Apollo Justice. So, “Herr Forehead” doesn’t so much have the answer as to “where this love” between Klavier and his girlfriend is headed as much as he IS the answer. Klavier’s basically telling his girlfriend it’s not going to work out because there is someone else.

The inclusion of Apollo’s OBJECTION voice clip is probably just a little easter egg (both in meta and in-universe), but Klavier could also be using it to suggest Apollo’s answer to the question of where “this love [between Klavier and his girlfriend] is headed” would be to “object” to Klavier being in love with said girlfriend. (Knowing Apollo, this probably wouldn’t be the case, but it’s important to remember it’s KLAVIER writing the lyrics and weaving this story together).

The final verse:

No one can predict it (LOVE LOVE GUILTY)

Which way the ruling will go (LOVE LOVE GUILTY)

The sins people commit (LOVE LOVE GUILTY)

Who will judge them? (LOVE LOVE GUILTY)

In the depths of darkness (LOVE LOVE GUILTY)

Reveal the truth behind the crime (LOVE LOVE GUILTY)

The journey to the next world is so far (LOVE LOVE GUILTY)

A shadow is wandering (LOVE LOVE GUILTY)

I’ll search for the light

LOVE LOVE GUILTY!

Klavier ends the song by returning to the song’s bridge and again stating his resolve to find the truth, in spite of the difficulties, cementing that he is in a love affair with the law (and Apollo) rather than his music (and his girlfriend).

Final Thoughts: Overall, “Guilty Love” is about Klavier’s internal conflict whether he should choose between his life as a rockstar or his job as a prosecutor — and ultimately, he does chose the law, and this is true in canon as well.

Yet, Klavier’s choice to represent that rockstar lifestyle through a symbolic girlfriend is interesting and would be entirely unnecessary if it was just a song about how much Klavier loves the law. It’s not, though. By bringing Apollo into the equation, he brings the romantic metaphor full circle, and the song also becomes about a love-triangle between Klavier, his girlfriend, and Apollo.

He chooses Apollo.

[soybloodandstakes]

Young Dracula Vampires and Their Eating Habits: an exploration

Throughout Series 1 and 2 we see Vlad and Ingrid eat breakfast before school; obviously there’s also the episode where Renfield packs Vlad a spinach sandwich that has a cockroach in it, and we know that Renfield is partial to eating a bug or two (or many). We could say that as they’re still under 16 and don’t drink blood yet, their dietary needs would be similar to a Breather’s - albeit that their cuisine is unusual by stereotypical western standards (because in quite a few cuisines it’s common to eat insects and the like, also the idea of food being made out of bugs is slowly becoming ever more popular) - and perhaps they don’t need to eat food once they’re vampires (and yes I know I mentioned Renfield but it’s kind of relevant, hold on). However. We do see the Count eat; in the episode where the Branagh’s stay over and Elizabeth cooks him that weird blood pudding thing, and even in the first episode there is mention of him having to eat black pudding at a service station BUT it’s only because he can’t otherwise get blood. When Magda first makes an appearance and the Count falls for her again, they have a dinner prepared for her. Now my question is - do vampires in this universe need to eat? Is it a necessity for survival or just a personal preference? And can they survive only on blood or vice versa?

I think I assume that no, they don’t need blood to survive, because if you look at Vlad and Talitha in Series 5, they’re both vegetarian vampires and so neither drink blood.  And I mean also - there’s a whole BRAND for soy blood. Surely that means that there’s enough of a demand for it to have at least one brand right? However I’ve just realised that I am COMPLETELY FORGETTING !! that the VERY FIRST instance we see of a vegetarian vampire is Ivan! Before his incident with Van Helsing, he speaks of many vampires in America living a blood-free lifestyle, posing it as the only sustainable way forward. From this we can assume definitely that no - vampires in the Young Dracula universe do not need blood to survive and don’t even need to eat meat either. So, what do they need and why do they drink blood?

I think that the answer to the latter question is simply instinct and possibly tradition. There are many instances in which we see Vlad have sudden cravings for blood; ones that he fights down and doesn’t give in to but cravings nonetheless. Ivan is converted back to blood drinking from the smell of Slayer’s blood, again the fact that it is an instinctual need. As for what these vampires need to survive? I don’t know for certain. And we probably never will. The idea of vampires and the lore of the creatures has been changed and shaped to many different stories and renditions; I don’t know many of them but we can logically assume that Young Dracula takes inspiration from at least one or two more sources outside of the book that it is based off of (which takes its inspiration from the novel Dracula which I have yet to read). I can’t remember where I read it, I think it may have been in a My Sister’s a Vampire book hahaha EDIT it wasn’t it was in Carry On, thanks Baz, but there’s one idea that vampires need to eat food like humans do, but they can go for longer stretches of time without it. However, an opposing idea is present in Twilight; in this series vampires cannot eat human food and it actually makes them dreadfully ill. Although, in this example the Cullens don’t drink human blood either and drink animal blood instead, something that we can assume the vampires in YD probably don’t do as there is no suggestion of it anywhere. These two ideas and the evidence in YD are the only things I really have to go on as I haven’t read Dracula or watched anything based off it. Though I have read Carmilla - a vampire novel that predates Dracula - it again suggests the idea that vampires don’t eat and may be repulsed by food.

However, I am inclined to go with the idea that vampires (these ones at least) do actually need to eat to survive, and perhaps that their requirements for survival in terms of needing food are very similar to humans if not almost the same.

For one thing, the Dracula’s seem to keep pretty regular mealtimes. Throughout the entire program, they can often be found to at least be having dinner if not any other meal. In Series 3 in ‘Bad Vlad’, Vlad invites a Breather girl, Becky, up for lunch - though you could argue that this is to be in-keeping with Breather life. On this note, ‘lunch’ is intended to be her, which again does question whether they need food at all, however throughout Series 3 there are a number of things related to food that we can explore. Again with mealtimes, something that is actually used as a point to drive the narrative forward is when they’re all having lunch and Vlad is given the ocelots nose instead of the Count, who claims that he “always get[s] the ocelots nose”. There are also various other mentions of food throughout the later series in particular, so we know that these creatures do eat and perhaps they indeed do it out of necessity to survive, much like we do.

Contradicting this though, is the language that is often used when referring to blood and Breathers, and it is something that I also want to explore – how blood is consumed and what it is considered to be. Food or drink? In Series 3 in ‘The Blood Thief’, when Ingrid invites Bertrand to the blood cellar to taste one of the Count’s vintage bottles, she says “What a great evening – dinner and a show.”. With “dinner” being not even a full glass of blood we could just assume that this is a turn of phrase; with blood also being treated in a similar way to wine (vintage bottles, a dedicated cellar, drunken out of stemmed glasses) it does seem to therefore be considered to be like a drink. Additionally, in Series 5 where Warlock ‘puts in his order’ with Ingrid, he says “mines a _” which echoes that of a drinks preference (like a usual coffee order). However, there is also constant referral to Breathers being a “meal” or “playing with your food” so – perhaps vampires can survive without food, as long as they have a supply of blood. Hence the glass of blood being “dinner” for Ingrid. This seems very plausible, especially with the opening of the blood banks in Series 4 for the ‘strays’ or ‘ferals’. Vlad claims that they would go wild without them, and we do see evidence of that when the blood runs out at one point. These homeless vampires with nowhere else to go would probably not have access to food; most likely being led by their instincts alone, the only source of nutrition they crave is blood. Human when they can but animal when they can’t. It’s with this point that I retract my earlier statement that we see no evidence of vampires drinking animal blood instead of human like in Twilight, as in Vlad’s speech to the ferals he mentions the fact that they are/will be feeding off of stray cats if they do not follow him to Garside, as they cannot hunt because of the ceasefire. With this information, perhaps I am wrong in my assumption that vampires need to eat food. Maybe they can simply survive on blood alone. So, this begs the question – why do the Draculas have meals? Why are, according to Renfield, certain maggots a vampire delicacy?

If we forget for a minute that vegetarian vampires exist and focus on the majority, what exactly are the reasons for the Draculas and other vampires, like those at the Hunt Ball in Series 1, to be eating food? Is it still indeed a necessity thing and vampires like the ferals, though surviving, are perhaps malnourished without food as well as blood? Is it a culture thing, a tradition thing? A class thing? Up until the introduction of the ferals, we are not shown a way of vampire life other than that of the Draculas and their associates. The Draculas are therefore really our only source of information and so that is what I am basing these assumptions on. The mention of it possibly being a class thing is also because, assumedly, the Count is.. well, a Count. Whether his title is with or without the corresponding status is irrelevant though, because we know that the Draculas as a clan are still supposedly renowned as a name and have status in their own right because of that, and so may be expectant of certain things due to having money - like food being a part of their life. Another theory is that maybe, turned vampires don’t need to eat but born ones do? (With the assumption that most of the ferals are Half-Fangs?) It’s a possibility. My personal thoughts are that vampires in this universe can survive only on blood – as possibly evidenced by the ferals – but need some sort of food too if they don’t want to be constantly hungry and/or malnourished. In addition, those of a higher status may be more accustomed to eating food perhaps because of tradition, which is usually found to be kept more in higher status places, or because of culture. The cuisine in question is also definitely very odd by human standards, and so here we come back to one of the opening points. The fact that these vampires seemingly have a pretty vamp-specific cuisine even before being 16 is another indication to the possibility that vampires in this universe eat food for possibly more than just enjoyment, and their dietary requirements are the reasons for this. This being said, Renfield also seems to share a lot of the same food, although he isn’t exactly a regular breather and he is pretty disgusting in his taste (even by a vampire’s standards), so it does still raise the possibility of it just being culture/tradition.

In Series 1 the Dracula’s are found to be eating various gross-looking things, a lot that looks kind of mouldy; at the Hunt Ball, we are shown a vampire eating an eyeball skewer, and bugs seems to be a large part of their general diet as evidenced by the maggots for Magda in Series 1, and also Renfield’s “bug burgers” in Series 5 that George helps him make. In Series 2 we also see a large fox in a sort of pie thing among other mentions of badgers and birds that Renfield serves, which leads to Ivan telling the Count he’s vegetarian. There is far more mention of the food that they eat throughout the show, however we can generally deduct that they seem to eat pretty much anything and everything if it’s an animal that moves, particularly if it is gross by regular human (also western) standards. In Series 5 the Count even mentions how he hasn’t “had a toad in years” when one (weirdly CGI-ed) appears on his balcony. So they eat toads too. Maggots seem to be weirdly popular; Series 3 at the Carpathian Feast shows Renfield ‘teaching’ Wolfie how to eat maggots, these ones considered to be a delicacy of “fine dining” having been “fed on a diet of elephant dung”. Gross. These vampires’ diet seems to be quite broad; however, the existence of vegetarian vampires also proves that they don’t need to eat these things to survive or be healthy. Obviously it can just be argued that they eat these things because, well, they’re vampires and it’s a work of fiction, and the fact they eat these weird foods just helps to hold the suspension of belief of them being supernatural creatures. But that’s not how I am going about this, so we’ll forget about that argument. With the consideration of vegetarian vampires, I am inclined to go with the fact that vampires eat these foods in particular because of tradition, because of their culture. Or at least the Draculas do. This may just be that it’s because they’re from “the old country” (Transylvania), and like aforementioned, they’re of a higher status and more likely to keep old vampire traditions. So it isn’t to say that vampires of this universe don’t enjoy a burger or two, despite the Count not knowing what they are. (“What is that, a person from Hamburg?”) However, the vampires that we are shown are all from a similar status family/position as the Draculas, and so their food does seem to be kind of similar. Whatever background a vampire comes from though, their diet is most definitely carnivorous, whatever form that meat comes in. This comes back to my main point of their eating habits coming from their vampire instinct. The fact that the Draculas are accustomed to eating certain foods in certain ways is probably more indicative of their class than anything else. As with all people, I’m sure these vampires have preferences and different types of food across the vampire globe – raw meat is something that you would assume they would eat, yet it is only seen to be eaten twice throughout the show. Ivan in Series 2 after his run-in with Van Helsing, and Hack in Series 5 from the basket of meat that Ingrid sent him. But, they definitely don’t need to have this diet to survive, and we can assume that its reason is more of instinct and tradition.

So what do vampires in the Young Dracula universe need to consume to survive?

Like I said previously, we don’t and won’t know for sure. But this exploration has shown that their need for blood and for meat as food is most definitely instinctual than anything else. Those that are led more by their instincts like the ferals, and even Ivan, are more likely to be blood thirsty and want their hunger satiated that way, more so than through food. They also prove that vampires can survive only on blood if need be, without the need for food as well. However, without food they definitely seem to be wilder than your average vampire. Or perhaps are exactly what you imagine a vampire to be like and the Draculas, due to their class and status, are simply more controlled. I’m not sure. What I am sure about though, is that it is possible for a vampire to live without blood, and without meat. This is proven by both Vlad and Talitha, and Ivan before he was reverted. So, what vampires need to survive is still unclear, but is nothing to do with having a special dietary requirement that is unlike a human’s. In fact, they probably can survive on the same diet as a breather. But, the key thing is their instincts, which are hard to control, being the main reason why the majority of vampires are carnivorous blood suckers. Even Vlad, who has always refused to drink blood even before he was vegetarian, has instinctual cravings for it.

TL;DR - Food for vampires in the Young Dracula universe seems to be more a thing of culture, tradition, and class than anything else. These vampires can definitely survive without blood and without meat if they wanted, however for most their instinctual need takes over. They also seem to be able to survive only on blood, however this appears to make them more instinct dependant, driving them slightly mad. Essentially, food seems to be a preference, and either it or blood can be the sole thing a vampire survives on, irrelevant of the consequences. Also, vegetarian vampires are pretty happily surviving without blood.

I’m sure there is much more I could talk about, especially once I finally read Bram Stoker’s Dracula, but this is pretty much all I can think of to explore for the moment. I would be here forever otherwise, and will probably add quite a bit in the future as I come up with more ideas to do with this.

[bluesakura007]

Undeniable - Chapter 4: Khan’s Past - Khan Noonien Singh x OC

Summary: After storming off following the start of her feud with Bones and Spock, Zinalya seeks comfort with the man who said feud revolves around in the first place, during which he divulges the story of his origins and how he ended up being awoken in the 23rd century.

Warnings: Roughly about half of this chapter is angst, and it includes mentions of the deaths of a parent and a friend.

Zinalya was almost flying down the corridors and then onto the ground floor via a turbolift, filled with her now released anger at Dr. McCoy. He had no right to be telling her how she was allowed to feel about someone, and her blood additionally boiled at the recollection of what she’d walked in to hear Spock saying earlier on before that, about how her plan to get Khan sent away with an exile sentence and go with him - and she guessed that the former also meant this about her feelings for the latter in the first place - would bring disrepute to Starfleet. 

According to Bones, he and the others were trying to help her, but she felt in the back of her mind that this was a lie, as he and Spock clearly didn’t actually care about what she wanted or how she felt because she was obviously the only one out of the three of them who could be bothered to look past Khan’s exterior for what lay underneath. This reminded her of a phrase she’d heard of once: “If you look for the good in people, you’ll find it.”

She was thankful for the fact that Scotty and Chekov were supportive of her wanting to leave with him - further proof to her that, as always, they were good friends - and she knew that while Kirk, Carol, Sulu and Uhura were remaining neutral and hadn’t picked either side of the argument, this could have been worse, due to the fact that one of these two sides they could have picked was to shut down and oppose her plan entirely, like Spock and McCoy. 

In spite of her annoyance at this latter pair, though, she felt the same kind of twinge as she had during her sarcastic remark to Spock when she’d walked in and heard him, which was guilt for the hostile moments of her behaviour just now. Especially for the particular moment when she slapped Bones. But this was only a temporary twinge as, with another surge of her blood boiling, she remembered that, effectively, they’d disregarded her viewpoints in the conversation and insisted on wanting to keep her away from the man she liked.

Within another few seconds, she’d arrived at the place where she’d been heading as soon as she stormed out. The room where Khan was being held in another cell.

The retinal and fingerprint scanners outside this room both recognised that she was indeed lieutenant-commander Zinalya Hamilton and allowed her to enter as a result. 

What she immediately noticed upon doing so was that apart from a few guards near to the door on the outer side, there were none inside the room itself, which she initially found to be a relief because of her wanting to speak alone with him until she found out why: to her right, in the corner of the ceiling above her, was a tiny, spherical-shaped black glass object which could only be noticed if you put in effort thanks to this size. It hardly took a detective to deduce that it was meant to be some kind of security camera.

"Did you mean it?"

She was suddenly snapped out of looking up at the camera by a certain deep and English-accented voice from in front of where she was standing. There he was, in a cell with a large floor-length glass window not unlike that of his previous cell onboard the Enterprise. Even the colouring of the room as a whole was very similar, except this one was slightly more like grey with a blue tint as opposed to pure white. "Sorry, what?" She turned her head back to facing where he was sitting at the back of his cell, looking at her with an owllike unwavering gaze, during which she found her anger from a minute ago fading.

"Did you mean what you said earlier in the courtroom, Miss Hamilton?" The sound of Khan’s voice still gave her shivers despite the amount of times she’d already heard it. "When you declared that you have romantic feelings for me?"

"I did, yeah." She nodded her head and simultaneously walked closer towards the cell. It took that little fraction of less time compared to on the Enterprise due to the room being marginally smaller than this ship’s brig. He now once again had the same look on his face that he’d had before, when she’d made this announcement he was referring to: a little dash of curiosity and slight skepticism but predominantly feeling touched by what she said. "Why do you have those feelings?"

Zinalya chuckled to herself. "I’m obviously not going to catch a break from that question anytime soon." When she saw his aforementioned expression change into one of mild confusion, she elaborated, "Commander Spock asked me the same thing just now."

"And what did you say to him?" Another one of those subtle outward expression shifts happened, this time her sensing slight dislike from Khan towards this half Vulcan first officer.

"I told him that I’m not entirely sure why, but it was partially because I felt like you’d been through an emotional rollercoaster, with all the admiral Marcus business." Zinalya replied, hesitant to bring up this subject. She and Khan were now standing right in front of each other, only about a foot apart on either side of the cell’s glass.

He momentarily laughed to himself through closed lips and craned his head to the side, looking down at the floor. "I take it I’d be right in presuming he and your other colleagues tried to convince you that the way you see me is a mistake?"

"Spock and Dr. McCoy did." Responded the half human-half Trill. "But not all of them were like that; the others haven’t taken a side but ensign Chekov and Mr. Scott are being supportive of it."

"You seem to trust those two a great deal."

"They’re my closest friends." Her inner sensation of gratitude and relief at their support swung into action again, because she remembered that this meant she was at least not fully alone in her plan and in that day’s developments.

Khan looked back up towards her, seeming as if he himself had just experienced a memory recollection of his own. He paused for a beat, and then spoke again, "I’d like you to know I feel the same way, Miss Hamilton; I find you endearing in return."

It was a surprise to her ears, because, after all, she was hoping that her emotions would indeed be reciprocated by him but the prospect of it actually, really happening was unexpected, so now it was her turn to pose the question, "Why?"

"Because from the people who I met and interacted with on your Enterprise, you appeared to be the only one who didn’t dismiss me as a mere criminal." Answered Khan, whose eyes she thought were like that of a snake due to the brightness of his light turquoise eyes, which made his pupils, at some moments, look as if they were slitted. 

She’d additionally used this time where they were in front of each other to mentally take in and properly admire every edge of his tall body and his immaculate black hair. "You only came to speak to me a few times, but during those instances I noticed that you behaved kindly towards me. Apart from this reason however I’m not certain myself: I like you in return for a reason that I can’t put my finger on either."

Zinalya thought to herself deeply about this weirdly complex concept of attraction. "Maybe we’re not supposed to understand why we’ve got feelings for each other. Do you believe in destiny?"

"It depends on the specific context." Said Khan.

"Well I think the bigger reason could be because it’s pre-destined and it literally is what’s meant to happen."

Khan nodded his head, slowly and gracefully, in understanding of this theory. "If we are pre-destined to be together as you say, then I think I should be fully honest with you - I should tell you about how it all began. The events that ultimately led to my revival last year and everything that followed."

"Okay." There came her own nod again. "I do know that at one point back in the 20th century you were a world leader, the head of a large empire, but that's all I know about you, so I would like to learn more." She sat down on the floor in front of the glass, anticipating that what was about to follow might take some time.

Khan quietly took a breath and he, too, sat down, the right side of his body leaning lightly against the glass. "The first four years of my life were rather peaceful - most of the memories I had from back that far became vague over time so I had to find out later on by doing my own research, but I lived during those first years in India, with my mother." He began. "Her name was Dr. Sarina Kaur, a biochemist who had, around that time, been carrying out experiments and investigations into asexual reproduction."

"Asexual reproduction? Like how plants and some insects have children without having to...?" She trailed off at the end, realising how awkward the rest of her sentence was going to be.

"Yes." Khan, luckily, answered what she was trying to query without her having to put in this ending. "I found out when I did my own exploration into the four early years that I was apparently conceived by her via artificial insemination. And it was entirely artificial - she'd managed to perfect her theory of creating a human child from a single parent without the need for a donor of any kind, dubbed the Chrysalis Project. I was born in the year 1970, so this was quite a notable scientific achievement for the time." Zinalya was still listening intently, while he continued, now with a feeling of poignancy shown upon his face, "I was initially conceived as another one of her experiments, which is why she gave me minor changes and enhancements in my DNA that created my different eye colour and accent and my light skin tone, allegedly whilst I was still in utero, as well as a small mental enhancement allowing me to recall early memories more easily. But I still remember clearly that once I’d been born, she was the kindest and most loving person I had ever known."

"She sounds like she was a really sweet woman. I think I would've liked to meet her if she was still around today." The lieutenant-commander opined with a gentle smile, knowing in her mind that based on how long ago the 1970s were, Sarina would have been long gone by that time.

"She was. When I was still very young, she had a pet dog named Cinder, a border collie I believe; he had already reached old age when I was born and he died when I was two years old, but before then it was just me, Cinder and my mother together in New Delhi as a family. And then one day, another two years later, I found out that she died, as well."

"What happened to her?"

"Something went wrong at her laboratory. It caused a fire which she was killed by as she tried to escape." He said. "I'd been out that day, playing in the streets with some of the other children who lived nearby. Her parents lived in Kolkata, meaning there was no one close enough to take care of me, so I spent the next year living on those streets. The first few days I spent moving from place to place with my blanket in my hands and I spent most of those nights crying until I cried myself to sleep." Zinalya felt her chest tighten at the sight of the wistful look in his eyes. "Until I met another boy, Tanvir Acharya. He was three years older than me and was also an orphan on the streets, and was the leader of a small group of others which he allowed me to join. Me and him became friends to the point where we both considered each other as a brother figure, but a year on, we and the rest of the group were taken, among numerous other orphans, for experimentation."

"Is that what made you into an Augment? What gave you all your abilities?"

"It was - there was a total of twenty-four boys including myself and fifteen girls who were subjected to genetic engineering over the course of several years, for the purpose of eventually becoming living weapons. Seven years after our capture, in 1982, Tanvir and I devised a plan to escape and then later come back in the hopes of liberating the others in addition, and we both ran off in different directions. I made it to the Gobi Desert before I was found by Dr. Heisen, the director of the eugenics project responsible for our augmentations, and was recaptured and returned to the research facility by the use of a neural inhibitor in my body, which doubled as a tracking beacon. All thirty-nine of us had each been implanted with one for controlling us with pain if need be." The wistful expression began to gradually amplify itself. "After I was returned, I discovered that Tanvir had also been recaptured, but the use of his own inhibitor had killed him: he was born with a heart defect which was never treated, so the electric shocks from his inhibitor had stopped his heart from beating." 

He remembered how truly awful he’d felt at this moment way back when - a twelve year old boy holding the corpse of his best friend, his older brother figure, in his arms and entering back into what he did during those first few lonely nights on the New Delhi streets, which was crying his eyes out.

"Oh god..." Said Zinalya.

"Three more years on from then, I successfully removed my own inhibitor and those of the others and killed Heisen myself." He moved on from this particular part of the story before he lost himself in the memory, hissing the sentence with a small edge of aggression in his tone. "From there, we escaped and gradually released other eugenics subjects in various countries across the world, and I imagine the rest is familiar to you."

"You set up your empire in the early 1990s and ruled over half of Earth." She confirmed. "Before you escaped the planet with seventy-two other Augments later."

"It was our belief that the rest of the human race couldn’t properly look after itself. Myself and a few others infiltrated world governments in 1990 and established our own, leading to the beginning of the Eugenics Wars in 1992. It was during this time when I did my research into the finer details of my origins, and one of the other things I eventually uncovered was my mother's naming process for me: I was named Khan after one of her grandfathers, she gave me my surname after the 15th century poet Singh el Bashir, and my middle name was after Noonien Prasad, her boyfriend who died from lung cancer while she was pregnant with me. We were attacked during my reign that followed by the non-Augment governments and threatened with nuclear weaponry, but I refused to retaliate with my own."

"I remember; you told me once on the Enterprise that yours was one of the few Augment governments where there wasn’t anything like genocide or the other worst parts of a dictatorship." Zinalya, who was currently leaning the back of her own body against the glass, stretched her legs out so that she was sitting with them in front of her and craned her head around to look at him. "You had the threat of total destruction over you and you still stood your ground without using the same weapons..."

"At one point, me and my own followers were also attacked by another Augment leader, although as you can see I was the one who won the battle." She could see his eyes becoming misty at this point. "But my leadership still almost cost me everyone I knew throughout this last year. In 1996, we were forced to flee to Australia and board a sleeper ship which we christened the SS Botany Bay, and then came Marcus' discovery of us." A tear slid ever so slowly down out of his left eye while the other one was still welling up. "If it is destiny which has brought me here to you in this time, then it must have a perverse way of thinking. I'm not certain whether or not I should be thankful for those circumstances."

"I'm so sorry." The security chief was finding his tears to be contagious. "I wish me and the others knew what was going on - he was manipulating you and threatening to take away every person you had left who mattered to you, and we did nothing..."

"You mustn't blame yourself, Zinalya." Khan turned to face her slightly more, and then came the tear from his right eye to match the one on his left cheek. "I'm sorry that I've gotten us into this current situation." He placed his index and middle fingertips from his left hand onto the surface of his side of the glass to indicate what he meant: they were separated from each other by nothing more than a thin material, and faced with the uncertainty of whether they'd be allowed to go into exile together or be well and truly separated indefinitely.

She gently shook her head and did the same with that of her right hand, turning her position herself to make it so that it was the left side of her body up against the glass instead of her back, as it had been previously. "It's okay. I know half your life's been hard - you didn't deserve those deaths of Tanvir or your mum, Khan. You didn't deserve any of the bad things that happened to you at all."

Hers were somewhat more free-flowing compared to his, but Khan and Zin just let their tears stream out in each other's company. The former shifted his position again in terms of how his head was inclined, which now made it look to anyone seeing it from in front of or behind them like they were leaning into each other with her head on his shoulder and his own head on the top of hers. They sat there for a while, in a silence laced with unspoken tenderness between them.