#Drawing backgrounds can be very draining so I usually avoid them

[orxcalot]

I was debating on whether I should post this or not because it’s so different from my usual style, but I was practicing backgrounds the other day:)

[comedicreliefonlyworkswhenfunny]

I am against the "Americanization" of fandoms.

What this applies to

Holding non American characters (and sometimes even fans) to an American moral standard. This includes

Refusing to take into account that, first things first, America is NOT the target audience, so certain tropes that would or would not pass in the west are different in Japan.

Like seriously, quite a few of the jokes are just not going to pass or hit, because they require background information that is not universal.

Assuming all American experience is standard. (This could mean watering down just how much pressure is placed on Japanese youth irl by saying that sort of thing is universal (while it is, to a degree, Japanese suicide rates are pretty fucking high because of how fast paced and work heavy some of their loads tend to be), and it's really annoying and rude when someone is trying to speak out about how heavy and harsh the standards are placed on them to succeed just for some American whose mom occasionally yells at them to do their homework dropping by to say "it's like that everywhere")

Demonizing (or wubbifying) a character using American morals, including and up to harassing fans over their interpretations or gatekeeping whether or not a character "should" get development (while you shouldn't do that fucking period, it's rude and annoying- this is specifically for the people who use American standards without acknowledging the cultural gap between them and, you know, the fucking target audience) ((Like seriously, saying "It's different in Japan" is not the end all be all excusing someone's actions, but sometimes the author didn't immediately think that maybe (insert vaguely universal thing) was that bad or that heavy of a topic before they put it into their media. If you don't want to see things like that? Pick a different series and stop harassing the fans))

Getting mad at or making fun of Japan's attempts to satirize their own culture. (A good example is Ace Attorney! To most of us, it's just a funny laugh can you imagine if courts were actually like that- guess what? Japan's are! (Not that America's are actually that much better, they just look good on paper))

Making America/American issues the center of your fan spaces

(Usually without sharing or bringing light to the issues that other countries are going through)

Your

Experiences

Are

Not

Univseral!

Seriously, very few things across America, even, are universal. Texas things the hundreds are nothing while Minnesota's like "oh it's only thirty degrees below zero"- so for fucks sake, stop assuming that all other countries work in ways similar to America.

It's good and important to share Ameican issues with your American followers, but guess what? America isn't the only country out there, and it's certainly not the only one going through bullshit. Don't pull shit like "why's no one reblogging this?" or "why should I care about what's happening in (X country)?"

Don't assume everyone lives in America.

Stop assuming everyone lives in America.

America is not and has never been the target audience for anime, and it's certainly not the only country outside of Japan that enjoys it.

Like I said above, sometimes Japan attempts to satirize its own culture. We can't tell what is and isn't meant as satire, because it's not our culture.

Social media activism can be tiring and maybe you don't have the energy to focus on things that are out of your control, but, if someone tells you about the shit they're going through, don't bring American politics up.

For the neurodivergent crowd out there thinking, "But why?" it's because a lot of social media, especially, is very heavily Americanized- sometimes to the point where people assume that everyone is American. Not to mention, it's disheartening. I'm sorry to say, but you're not actually relating to the conversation, you're often diverting the focus away from the topic at hand. Even if you mean well, America is heavily pedestaled and talked about frequently, and people from other countries are tired of America taking precedent over their own issues.

Don't divert non-American issues into American ones. Seriously. It's not your place. Please just support the original issue or move on.

Racist Bullshit

This especially goes for islanders and South Asian characters, as well as poc characters (because, yes, Japan DOES have black people)

Making "funny" racist headcanons. Not fucking cool.

Changing the canon interpretation of an explicit character of color in order to fit racist stereotypes.

Whitewashing or color draining characters. Different artistic skill sets can be hard, yes, but are you seriously going to look at someone and say "I don't feel like accurately portraying you or people that look like you, because it's difficult for me." If someone tries to correct you on your cultural depiction of a character and/or their life style, don't be an ass. (If possible, it would be nice for those that do the corrections to be polite as well, but it does get really frustrating).

Seriously, no offense guys, but, if you want to persue art, you're going to need to learn to depict different body types, skin colors, and/or ethnic features.

On that note, purposefully, willingly, or consistently inaccurately portraying people or characters of color (especially if someone in the fandom has "called you out" or specifically told you that what you're doing comes across as racist and you continue to do it). If you need help or suck at looking things up, there are references for you! Ask your followers if they have tutorials on poc (issue that you're having), whether it be bodily portrayal, facial proportions, or coloring and shading. Art is so much more fun when you can depict a wider variety, and guess what? Before you drew the same skinny, basic, white character over and over, you couldn't even draw that!

Attempting or claiming to DEPECT CULTURAL ACCURACY within a work or meta, while being completely fucking wrong. ESPECIALLY and specifically if someone calls you out, and you refuse to fix, correct, or change anything.

*little side note that the discussion revolving art is a very multilayered conversation, and it has quite a few technical potholes, which I'll bring up again farther into this post.

Fucking history

Stop demonizing or for absolute fucks sake wubbifying Japanese history because UwU Japan ♡0♡ or bringing up shit like "you know they sided with Nazis, right?" It's good to recognize poor past decisions, but literally it's not your country keep your nose out of it. And? A lot of decisions made by countries were not made by their general peoples. Even those that were, often involved heavy propaganda that made them think what they were doing was right.

Seriously, it's not your country, not your history. Unless you have some sort of higher education (but honestly even then a lot of those contain heavy bias), just don't butt in.

^^^ this also goes to all countries that are NOT Japan (specifically when people from non American countries talk about their history while in fandoms and someone wants to Amerisplain to them why "well, actually-"). When we said, "question your sources," we didn't mean "question the people who know better than you, while blindly accepting the (more than likely biased) education you were given in the past."

What this does NOT include:

Fanfiction

FANfiction

FanFICTION

FANFICTION.

Seriously, fanfiction is literally UNPAID WORK from RANDOM FANS- a lot of which who are or have started as kids. ((No, I'm not trying to excuse racist depictions of people just because they're free, please see above where I talk about learning to grow a skill and how it's possible tone bad and get good, on top of the fact that some inaccuracies are not just willful ignorance))

"Looking it up" doesn't work

"Looking it up" almost never works

Please, for fucks sake, you know that most all online search engines are heavily biased, right? Not to mention, not everything is universal across the entirety of Japan. You want to look up how the school system works in Hokkaido? Well it's different from the ones in Osaka!

Most fanfiction is meant to be an idealized version of the world. Homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, ableism, and racism are very prevalent and heavy topics that some fan authors would prefer to avoid. (Keep in mind, this is also used by some people in those minorities often because thinking about how relevant those kinds of things are is to them every day).

A lot of shit that happens in writing is purely because it's an ideal setting. I've seen a few arguments recently about how fan authors portray Japanese schools wrong- listen, I can't tell you how many random school systems I have pulled from my ass purely because (I need them to interact at these points, in these ways). Sometimes the only compliment I can think of is 'I like your shirt' or sometimes I need character A to realize that character B likes the same thing as they do, so I might ignore the fact that most all Japanese schools require uniforms, so that I can put my character in a shirt that will get someone else's attention.

Sometimes it's difficult to find information on different types of systems, and sometimes when you DO know those things, they directly rule out a plot point that needs to happen (like back on the topic of schools (from what I've seen/heard/read- which guess what? Despite being from multiple sources, might still be inaccurate!) Japanese schools don't have mandatory elective classes (outside of like gym and most of them usually learn English or another language- I've seen stuff about art classes? But the information across the board varies.), but, if I need my character to walk in and see someone completely in their element, I'm probably not going to try and gun for accuracy or make up a million and two reasons as to why this (non elective) person would possibly need something from (elective teacher) after school of all things.)

Some experiences ARE universal- or at least overlap American and Japanese norms! Like friends going to fast food places after school doesn't /sound Japanese/ or whatever, but it's not like a horrible inaccuracy to say that your characters ate at McDonald's because they were hungry. Especially when you consider that the Japanese idolization of American "culture" is also a thing.

Also I saw someone complaining about how, in December, a lot of (usually westerners) write Christmas fics! Well, not only are quite a few of those often gift fics, with it being the season if giving and all, but Japanese people do celebrate Christmas! Not as "the birth of Christ," but rather as a popularized holiday about gift giving (also pst: America isn't the only place that celebrates Christmas)

But, on that note, sometimes things like Holidays are "willfully ignorant" of what actually happens (I've made this point several times, but (also this does by no means excuse actual racism)), because, again: plot convenience! Hey what IF they celebrated Halloween by Trick or Treating? What if Easter was a thing and they got to watch their kids or younger siblings crawl around on the ground looking for tiny plastic eggs?

Fanfiction authors can put in hours of work for one or two thousand words- let alone ten thousand words, fifty thousand words, a hundred thousand words. And all of these are free. There is absolutely no (legal) way to make money off of their fanworks, but they spent hours, days, weeks, months- sometimes even years- writing. It is so unnecessary to EXPECT or REQUIRE them to spend even more hours looking up shit that, no offense, almost no one is going to notice. No one is going go care that all of my combini prices are accurate or that I wrote a fic with a Japanese map of a train station that I had to backwards search three times to find an English version that I could read.

Not everyone has the attention span or ability to spend hours of research before writing a single word. Neurodivergent people are literally a thing yall. Instead of producing the perfectly pretty accurate version of Japan that people want to happen, what ACTUALLY happens is that the writer reads and reads and reads and either never finds the information they need or they lose the motivation to write.

^^^ (This does NOT apply to indigenous or native peoples, like Pacific Islanders or tribes that exist in real life. Please make sure that you portray tribal minorities accurately. If you can't find the information you need (assuming that the content of the series is not specifically about a tribe), please just make one up (and for fucks sake, recognize that a lot of what you've been taught about tribal practices, such as shit like human sacrifices or godly worship, is actually just propaganda.)

Not to mention, it often puts a wall in front of readers who would then need to pull up their OWN information (that may or may not be biased) just in order to interact with the fic ((okay, this one has a little bit of arguability when it comes to things like measurements and currency, because Americans don't know what a meter is and no one else knows what a foot is- either way, one of yall is going to have to look up measurements if they want to get a better understanding of the fic)). However, a lot of Americans who do write using 'feet, Fahrenheit, dollars,' also write for their American followers or friends (which really could go both ways).

On a less easily arguable side, most fic readers aren't going to open up a new tab just to search everything that the author has written (re the whole deep topics, not everyone wants to read about those sorts of things, either). Not only are you making it more difficult on the writer, but you're also making it more difficult for the reader who's now wondering why you decided to add in Grandma's Katsudon recipe, and whether or not the details you have added are accurate.

Some series, themselves, ignore Japanese norms! Piercings, hair dye, and incorrectly wearing ones uniform are frowns upon in Japanese schools- sometimes up to inflicting punishment on those students because of it. However, some anime characters still have naturally or dyed blond hair some of them still have piercings or wear their uniforms wrong. Some series aren't set specifically in Japan, but rather in a vague based-off-real-life Japan that's just slightly different (like Haikyuu and all of its different prefectures). Sometimes they're based on real places, but real places that have gone through major changes (like the Hero Academia series with its quirks and shit).

Fandom is not a full time job. Please stop treating it like it is one. Most people in fandoms have to engage in other things like school or work that most definitely take precident over frantically Googling the cultural implications of dying your hair pink in Japan.

Art is also meant to be a creative freedom and is almost always a hobby, so there are a few cracks that tend to spark debate. Like I said, it is still a hobby, something that's meant to be fun (on this note!)

If trying new things and expanding your portfolio is genuinely making you upset, it's okay to take a break from it. You're not going to get it right on the first try and please, please to everyone out there critiquing artists' works, please take this into account before you post things.

I'm sorry to say, but, while it gets frustrating to see the same things done wrong over and over again, some people are genuinely trying. If it matters enough for you to point out, please offer solutions or resources that would possibly help the artist do better (honestly this could be said about a lot of online activism). I get that they should "want" to do better (and maybe they don't and your annoyance towards them is completely justified- again, as I said, if this becomes a repeated offense and they don't listen to or care about the people trying to help them, yeah you can be a bitch if it helps you feel better- just please don't assume that everyone is willfully ignorant of how hurtful/upsetting/annoying a certain way of portraying things is), but also WANTING to do better and ACTUALLY doing better are two different things.

Maybe they didn't realize what they were doing was inaccurate. Maybe they didn't have the right tutorials. Maybe they tried to look it up, but that failed them. Either way, to some- especially neurodivergent artists- just being told that their work is bad or racist or awful isn't going to make them want to search for better resources in order to be more accurate, it's just going to make them give up.

Also! In fic and in writing, no one is going to get it right on the first try. Especially at the stage where we creators ARE merely in fan spaces is a great time to "fuck around and find out", before we bring our willfully or accidentally racist shit into monetized media. Absolutely hold your fan creators to higher standards, but literally fan work has so little actual impact on popular media (and this goes for just about every debate about fan spaces), and constructive criticism as well as routine practice can mean worlds for representation in future media. NOT allowing for mistakes in micro spaces like fandoms is how you get genuinely harmful or just... bad... portrayals of minorities in popularized media that DOES have an impact on the greater public. OR you get a bunch of creators who are too afraid to walk out of their own little bubbles, because what if they get it wrong and everyone turns against them. It's better to just "stick with what they know" (hobbies are something that you are meant to get better at, even if that is a slow road- for all of my writers and artists out there, it does take time, but you will get it. To everyone else, please do speak up about things that are wrong, but don't make it all about what's wrong and please don't be rude. It's frustrating on both ends, so, if you can, please try not to escalate the situation more.)

Anyways, I'm tired of everyone holding fictional characters to American Puritanical standards, but I'm also tired of seeing every "stop Americanizing fandom" somehow loop into fanfiction and how all authors who don't make their fics as accurate as possible are actually just racist and perpetuating or enabling America's take over of the world or some shit.

Fan interpretation of published media is different than fan creation of mon monetized media. Americans dominating or monopolizing spaces meant for all fans (especially in a fandom that was never meant for them to begin with) is annoying and can be harmful sometimes. Americans writing out their own personal experience using random fictional characters (more often than not) isn't.

[haliyam]

interim (v)

zeke x reader/oc

summary: You return to Liberio not long after the Warriors arrive home from their failed mission in Paradis and discover that things have changed. (Or they will, and maybe a little more with Zeke than you expect.) [Season 4 and manga spoilers ahead]

AO3 link | Ch 1 | Ch 4

Hi again! Forgive me for this chapter and the next few ones, guys. I offer you this art I commissioned and an itty bitty happy-for-a-millisecond Zeke/Reader oneshot in the meantime 😪 (Please notice this I am so happy with it)

As usual, Reader default name Lucy is a cis-female Eldian character with a set background and family name. But feel free to set the substitution for Lucy to your chosen First Name using the InteractiveFics browser extension!

Chapter 5

“Why are you helping me?”

You grit your teeth, peering over at Zeke as he lets go of your foot. He was helping you stretch, seeing as you’re too fatigued to do it yourself, not to mention you’re covered in a heated blanket and he’s put hot towels over and under your limbs. 

He ignores you, like he’s been ignoring you since he entered your room with all of these items, asking instead whether you wanted help or not. Like he’s been ignoring you since you arrived as a guest at the Yeagers’.

You don’t really like Zeke, and you’re sure he doesn’t like you either. You’re six, after all, with all the confidence the world can offer a child in your position, and he’s twelve, with all the arrogance of a boy already training to become the Beast Titan when the war in the South is over. 

That’s why his help is so strange. And without Mrs. Yeager forcing him into it, too?  It’s suspect, and you’re not even sure you know that word yet.

“Why—”

“Shh,” Zeke hisses, looking very displeased about having to respond in any way while you glare at him. When your brows unfurrow and you continue to stare at him expectantly, he rolls his eyes. Still, he finally speaks again. “Why are you like this, anyway? Aren’t you Magath’s new star would-be candidate?”

You were, until the ideology tests began. You don’t know they’re called that, but you’ve been doing terribly at the written exams which ask why Eldians are the dirt between the toes of  real  humans. Your answers show a well-read knowledge of Marley-sanctioned history, but distinctly lack the Eldian shame that comes naturally to your classmates. 

This is concerning to the program and to command in spite of your potential, so it’s up to your instructors to beat that shame into you by keeping you running for far longer than the others, leaving you out of meals, or shortening your breaks and then making you stay behind so you can do everyone else’s grunt work, especially after you dared to look Captain Magath in the eye the first time your class fell in to formation after the first round of exams. And every other time since, like an idiot. 

“Not anymore,” you answer, struggling to keep his gaze. You don’t really want to talk about this with someone who now must only wait to inherit his Titan. It makes you feel small, and nobody in Marley should have that authority.

Zeke wrinkles his nose. “That’s not an answer. It just seemed like you were doing great… and now you’re a baby that has to be coddled?”

Your glare returns, shame be damned, but the pain that suddenly pulses through your body as surely as your indignation quickly drains it. Your pride and your strength are depleted for the day, and you need to save what remains for tomorrow, when you have to face the instructors again. And besides—Zeke has already seen how weak you are. What’s the point? Tybur pride will do nothing for you now. 

You lower your gaze for once. “Are you going to tell the captain?” 

Zeke stares at you. “No? Why does Magath hate you now, anyway?”

You know why. Because you’re still a Tybur, and you refuse to be nothing. Even if nobody knows it. Even if you feel like nothing right now.

Zeke sighs again—a concession of his own, though that is unknown to you. “Fine. Just... my grandparents will get worried if they hear you crying because you can’t sleep.”

“I wasn’t crying,” you lie. Your body hurts so much that you haven’t been able to stay asleep for very long. You just didn’t think he could hear you crying.

“Sure,” he scoffs. He’s lied, too. It’s difficult to hear much noise inside your rooms from the hall—but you did pass him on the way to the bathroom with those puffy eyes just a little while ago. “Just make sure they don’t see you as pathetic as you look now—they already have enough to worry about. If you have to be pathetic… only do it in front of me. Understand?”

You still want to glare at him, but somehow, his words are almost as much comfort to you as the towels he’s heated for you. You don’t know the last time you let your guard down since the Warrior program began for your class, and you’re so tired. His words, however cold, warm you in your newfound frailty.

“Okay,” you murmur in defeat, relaxing in earnest. Your eyes are slowly starting to close.

“Hey!” he snaps within a whisper, quickly reaching for your shoulder and shaking it. You’re too sleepy to notice his reluctant concern. “Don’t fall asleep wrapped up in all this. It’s just a few more minutes, and then you have to go to the bathroom and put this ointment on your muscles like I told you. Remember?”

You do your best to widen your eyes and shake your head awake. The effort ends with you groaning in pain, but you eventually manage a nod. “I’ll stay awake,” you promise. When he sighs again and pulls the seat out from next to your desk to sit at your bedside, you murmur something else.

He frowns at you. “What was that?”

“I’ll stay awake,” you repeat, “but will you tell me a story?”

--

Are you surprised that Willy is coming to visit? Yes and no. Over the years, Willy has perfected the art of making his presence in your life known while somehow remaining completely absent. The nature of the new Lord Tybur’s existence in your world became immutable the summer after that fateful one, after you came crying to him and to Lara when you could no longer bear the loneliness of ignoring your friends’ letters for an entire year. Willy’s response, as with everything regarding Mila, was to turn away and change the subject. It was Lara who couldn’t resist your tears and confessed it all to you—what father told Willy hours before he became Lord Tybur, and then all she learned when she devoured him.

The new Lord Tybur was furious. It was only the second time in your life you had ever heard your brother so angry—but he never stays that way with you or with Lara for very long, and wouldn’t you have discovered the truth after thirteen years anyway? In true Willy fashion, he only smiled days later and expected you never to mention it again. The fact that you have, many times hence, is part of why your relationship is so frayed.  That and his tendency to appear, shower you with affection, and then shrink at the first sign of trouble. After all, how can anyone expect you to love a man who can’t bring himself to stand up for you?

Your resignation to this is mostly what keeps you from worrying too much the next morning, when Zeke leaves for HQ and you elect to join the Yeagers for market day. Part of it is guilt—apparently you and Zeke now consume much more than you did as candidates, and you want to make sure that you’re paying your share—and part of it is that you still feel ashamed for letting Zeke see you act the way you did last night. You still have to take care not to groan outwardly when you remember how you shrugged him off when he tried to be a friend, or how much you practically wailed into his chest. Never mind how you hid behind him from Mila when he let you, like the coward you are.

“You’re so pathetic, Lucy,” you mutter to yourself.

Standing not far from you by a vegetable vendor, Dr. Yeager glances over his shoulder. “Hmm? What’s that, Lucy?”

“Er—nothing, Dr. Yeager. I was just thinking to myself,” you smile sheepishly. Drawing closer to avoid getting jostled by the crowd, you search over his selection. “Oh! That’s… a lot of potatoes. You don’t need to avoid other items on my account. I’m happy to pay for my share.”

Dr. Yeager chuckles. “No, no. You know how much Zeke likes them. And don’t worry, Lucy, I can carry them.”

“No,” you say slowly, exchanging a look with the vendor when Dr. Yeager gives his smaller basket a faithful pat. You reach for it instead, tugging a little when he stubbornly refuses. “I’m taking these. You can carry some of the fish, but I’ll be taking most of the baskets. Hand them over and I’ll bring these to Mrs. Yeager.”

Dr. Yeager sighs. “Very well, Lucy. But only because I know how much you like carp from our friend down the road.”

You grin, and he lets you take his basket so you can fill your much larger one with (apparently) Zeke’s potatoes. As you part ways so he can go and buy you fish, you set out to find Mrs. Yeager. She should be waiting outside a little cafe not far from the market—Dr. Yeager likes doing most of the groceries nowadays, and Mrs. Yeager’s one very important task is to buy the household’s favorite seasonal dessert: grapes. Unfortunately, the best grapes in the zone market are sold by an old man who has a bit of a crush on her, and he doesn’t like seeing Dr. Yeager if he can help it. Or Zeke. Or you. 

That should be her only task, which is why you’re surprised when you find her with a man and a basket full of cured meats when you arrive. 

The truth is you almost miss her, if not for the sweet sound of her amused chuckle right as you decide to head inside to find her. Walking around the man blocking her from view, you approach. “Mrs. Yeager?”

“Lucy!” she waves. 

Her raised brows tell you she wants you to meet someone; evidently, the man carrying most of her baskets along his arms, wearing an apron over a button-down and slacks with his sleeves rolled up. You turn toward each other at your name, and after a blink or two between the two of you, you realize that the man’s shock is more familiar than you first realized—probably because it’s your second time bumping into each other this weekend. 

“Lucy?” he gawps at you.

You give him the same look. “Kellan? What are you…?”

He follows your gaze to Mrs. Yeager, and the way it dawns on his face is enough for you to trust that this is another funny coincidence. “Oh—” He gestures to her, “I was just helping, er…”

“Mrs. Yeager,” you help him.

“Right, Mrs... You’re Mrs. Yeager?” he asks, glancing at her. It’s clear he’s seen her unmistakable red armband, but it’s not polite to ask which child earned you Honorary Marleyan status. 

Mrs. Yeager is accustomed to his curiosity, which he soon realizes along with his manners with an embarrassed flush that makes you smile. Luckily, she takes over for him with a pat on his arm. “Kellan here was helping me with the meats I bought from his family’s shop. He was just telling me that he’s studying to be a doctor, and I thought, what a coincidence—but it seems you two already know each other! Isn’t he handsome, Lucy?”

Such a pointed question. You and Kellan meet each other’s gazes with mutual embarrassment. 

“You really don’t have to answer that,” Kellan laughs nervously, which helps you snap out of your stupor and look at him. You suppose he is handsome, even with his dark hair mired in sweat and slicked back today. He’s tall, taller than Zeke and maybe even Reiner, with a strong nose and gentle eyes that watch you hopefully in spite of his words.

The Warrior program and boarding school means no one has ever looked at you like that before, and the novelty has excitement blooming in your chest. Maybe a slight pink on your cheeks, too, which you try to hide with a smile. 

“I think so,” you say, his gaze and then his shock making you feel a new kind of brave. “And I have bumped into him a few times. ...Sorry again about yesterday.”

“That’s all right. Bumping into you isn’t so bad,” he says almost smoothly, very nearly matching your courage until he remembers Mrs. Yeager and, as such, his embarrassment. “...You know, because Mrs. Yeager bought so much. I’ve never seen my aunt so thrilled.”

You’ve never been this thrilled either—attractive boys were a constant topic for your peers at boarding school, but then you’ve never had the chance to meet one. You still haven’t. Kellan is an attractive man, a few years your senior and hardly a boy. And you aren’t a liar. He’s very pleasing to look at, especially when his eyes search yours so intently. 

“Of course,” you say, trying not to look nervous when you take a step closer and reach for the baskets he’s holding. “Well, thank you for helping Mrs. Yeager. But I can take those.”

Kellan withdraws the arm holding her basket, giving you a once-over. “What do you mean?”

“Lucy is our guest at home,” says Mrs. Yeager, who looks far too pleased with herself. “Even if she refuses to let us carry our own things.”

“Please,” you feign a sigh. “I haven’t kept up with some training for nothing.” 

Kellan looks confused as he glances between the two of you, but he’s determined when you meet his gaze again. “Lucy,” he begins, “remember that bookstore I mentioned yesterday? I was thinking—did you want to drop by after this so I can show you which books you can start with?”

“Really?” you ask. Perhaps you were hoping to see him again, make a friend or two at campus, but you didn’t think your encounters could actually move past hello and goodbye. But Mrs. Yeager was right. He is handsome, dark-eyed and tall, and the idea of more of those shy smiles is a flattering one. “Well… I’d like that. But I wanted to bring these home first. And aren’t you helping at your aunt’s stall?”

“I can take a break,” he says easily, smile growing just a little more confident. “And I can help you bring these home! You shouldn’t be carrying all these yourself. Er… If that’s all right with you, Mrs. Yeager. And I’d just have to change quickly. Been out here since early this morning.”

“Of course, of course,” Mrs. Yeager answers for you, giving you an openly suggestive look. You pretend not to see it, but stifle a smile yourself.

Politely averting his eyes to spare you the embarrassment, Kellan reaches for the basket on your right arm, and for a moment you understand the Dr. Yeager of a little while ago. But you’ve never experienced anyone’s chivalry before, excepting Bertholdt (and he was an angel to just about everybody and he was twelve). You can suffer Kellan’s for now. 

“Thank you,” you say reluctantly. “But only that one. I have my pride to consider, you know.”

“If you say so,” he chuckles, readjusting the baskets along his arms. When he shifts them all to just one arm so he can wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, his damp hair glistening slightly, you imagine the tales you’ve read of countryside romances at the school library and remember to swoon a little. When he catches you looking and glancing away, Kellan smiles. 

“Where to, ladies?”

--

You find Dr. Yeager with your carp, and he is just as pleased as his wife to have another helper no matter how much he claims he can take another basket of his own. Your fears of Kellan’s talk of med school bringing out unhappy memories in Zeke’s grandfather come to nothing when Dr. Yeager expresses interest in the university system nowadays, and you’re happy to listen to the men converse about Kellan’s plans for specialization on the way home. 

“I’ll get it,” Mrs. Yeager says when you arrive, hurrying to unlock the door, and the three of you file into the house while she keeps it open. To everyone’s surprise, the door to the kitchen is already ajar: Zeke and Porco are sitting at the table, poring over folders together in silence. It seems they didn’t hear you come in.

“Good morning, you two,” Dr. Yeager’s surprised remark shatters their deep focus, and both of them spring out of their seats. They immediately turn the folders over and stack them next to a small paper bag.

It’s Zeke who relaxes first. “Grandpa,” he greets, casually nodding at each of you until he spots Kellan coming in from behind you. He doesn’t notice himself straightening up to his full height.

Before he can ask, Mrs. Yeager beams at the sight of Zeke’s guest. “Porco! What a nice surprise. You rarely come to visit.”

Porco’s suspicious brow slackens into a smile for her. It’s almost sheepish, and if that’s the case, is it really Porco? “Sorry, Mrs. Yeager.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Things have been really busy.”

“What are you two doing here?” you ask, rubbing your arms as you set the baskets down by the counter. You join them standing by the table at Dr. Yeager’s urging. “I thought you worked Sundays.”

It is Porco, because he snorts, only a little more politely since the Yeagers are around. “We were supposed to, until our Warchief realized he left work at home.”

Zeke shrugs helplessly. “It slipped my mind. I hardly ever bring home work.”

Porco remembers that you were the one in a hurry to leave HQ two days ago, prompting Zeke to forgo leaving the files in his office when Boy Wonder decided he would accompany you home, which is seriously stupid because you don’t really need any more babysitting. But then the two of you did pass by the family bakery and Mr. Finger—so he decides to stay quiet for now.

On that matter, anyway. He gestures to Kellan, who is quietly helping Mrs. Yeager unload the baskets. “Who’s the guy?”

You shoot him a reproachful, wide-eyed look. “Porco—!”

“This is Kellan. He’s studying to be a doctor, a few years ahead of Lucy,” Mrs. Yeager interrupts. She hardly knows him and she’s already proud of him, it seems, pushing him next to you by the table. He apologizes when the surprising force of her shove has him bumping into you.

“Right.” You steady him with a hand on his upper arm and are unsurprised to find muscle there. “Uh, Kellan helped us bring the groceries home. We’re heading out in a bit so he can show me some textbooks I can study ahead of time, regardless of which professors I get.”

“Textbooks?” Porco repeats with a chuckle. “Since when do you study, Blanchard?”

“Since a while ago, Galliard,” you say pleasantly, even with your teeth gritted, wondering if it’s possible to burn alive with embarrassment while hoping Porco catches alight himself. When the new Jaw only continues to look amused, you sigh. “Kellan, this is Porco, and that’s Zeke.”

You could announce their last names, but everyone in the zone knows who the Warriors are, and Kellan already seems uncomfortable. You hope it’s not because of Porco’s remark and consider throttling the man.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Kellan says anyway, politely offering his hand.

You hold back when Porco shakes it. It goes on for a little longer than you expect and their knuckles are paler by the end of it, but you suppose that’s better than nothing, which is exactly what Zeke gives when Kellan extends a hand to him next.

“The pleasure is ours,” Zeke says in lieu of doing anything else. He’s smiling, one hand in the pocket of his uniform while the other holds half the stack of folders. “Kellan, right? You’re pretty persistent, huh?”

Kellan presses his lips together as he withdraws his hand. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

Zeke stares at him a little longer before he chuckles. “Nah.”

You’re not surprised. Zeke always takes his time warming to people, if he ever does. When he meets your gaze, his amusement softens into something a little more natural.

You smile back, unsure why you feel embarrassed all of a sudden when Mrs. Yeager comes up from behind you. “All right, Kellan, thank you for accompanying us home. Now, off you two go.”

You survey the kitchen counters with a grimace. The groceries still need sorting. “But Mrs. Yeager—” you and Kellan start in unison, and then exchange glances. His light laughter is a little more than charming.

“Ugh,” Porco mutters, echoing more than just his own sentiments. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Yeager says before you can notice. She rounds the four of you to pat the shoulders of Zeke and Porco. “I’ve found two new helpers in your stead. You can spare a few minutes, can’t you, dears?”

Kellan looks to Dr. Yeager. “But—”

“We can handle it,” Zeke cuts him off, but he’s decidedly ignored the man, waving at you instead. “Do what you need to, Lucy.”

“Thanks,” you beam at him, feeling oddly silly. Like a child playing adult as Kellan opens the door for you. “I’ll see you later.”

“Have fun, kids,” Porco calls out. He chuckles when you glance over your shoulder to shoot him a deadpan look, only to find Zeke giving him the exact same one once the front door clicks shut.

“What?”

--

“I’m sorry about that,” you say as soon as you leave the Yeager household and head down the steps toward the street. You glance back at Kellan, waiting for him to follow. “Zeke and Porco are nice when you get to know them. And vice-versa.”

Kellan nods, looking at you. “You seem close.”

“Yeah,” is all you can say. When you don’t say more, he doesn’t pry. 

He asks to drop by the market again so he can pick up his things and an extra shirt, and you walk in relative silence until you reach it.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, open palms pressing at the air as if you’ll disappear the moment he leaves. It’s cute from someone so much taller than you.

“Go ahead,” you smile, and he does too before diving back into the crowd.

You adjust your armband as you back into a nearby building and watch the coming and going of Eldians through the tightly-packed throng. Long ago, during your first foray into one of the zone’s open air markets, you were disgusted and confused. Only your growing regard for the Yeagers and the thought of Zeke’s sarcastic surprise at the little you knew of the world had kept your mouth shut. 

Over the years you came to accept it as part of this temporary home, and market day a time when Eldians could happily interact with familiar faces and keep one another apprised of their trials amid life in the zone. The strong stench of the place became a reminder of this affection you could only find within a community, one completely nonexistent in the grand, empty gardens of the Tybur estate. 

The first summer after you left showed you that to Eldians outside of Marley, the Liberio internment zone—a place you still consider a prison for people you care about, where stepping outside its gates to look for a pharmacy when those in the zone have nothing more to offer can end in a beating—is paradise. It’s the most ridiculous thing in the world, but it’s your world. The world that the Tyburs have allowed to flourish. 

Alone with your thoughts, you find yourself nervous. Why is Willy coming here? Only Mila was ever permitted to come and visit you—but that was when father was still alive. 

Perhaps if Willy sees Liberio, the place that raised you...

You find yourself hopeful. Maybe it was father all along. Maybe Willy isn’t a coward after all.

“Sorry about the wait. Lucy?”

Kellan stands before you, hair no longer damp but brushed down a little more properly. The apron has disappeared in favor of a new button-down, the strap of his messenger bag slung over his shoulder. 

His sleeves are still rolled up. You like that.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile, readjusting the purse at your side. “Ready to go?”

Kellan nods, and is much more talkative now that he feels more presentable around you. He apologizes for his silence earlier—his own scent was bothering him, and he was embarrassed—and he starts to tell you about university as soon as you ask. 

The bookstore he mentioned is a little far from the Yeagers’, but it is useful. Many are secondhand, but the store is vigilant about keeping only those published in the last five years. It regularly gets donations, perhaps from sympathetic Marleyans, though how they would know about it you can only wonder.

Kellan advises you as to the best books when it comes to basic medical subjects, which are what you’ll be taking up in your first year. In spite of Porco’s little joke, you’re eager to get started working toward that degree. General List’s words may hang over your head, but now that Willy is coming to Liberio, you have time to wait to tell him instead of putting off writing Lara about it. 

“Wow,” Kellan remarks, once you’ve bought everything. “You really are serious about this.”

You glance up at him with a frown you can’t help. “You thought I wasn’t?” 

“It’s not that,” he says at once, holding the door open for you as you leave the shop. He offers to take the books off your hands, but you hold the pile to your chest, waiting for his reply. “No, it’s more—I thought I was the only one who did this kind of thing. Study ahead of the year if I can.”

You relax somewhat at his words. “You do this too?”

Kellan nods, and when he reaches again, you let him take half your books. “My friends made fun of me, but I mean to become a physician. There aren’t enough Eldian doctors to attend everyone in the zone, and… I want to help.”

“I see,” you murmur. Suddenly, Kellan seems a lot more charming than he is already. “I bet you’re at the top of your class or something.”

Kellan only smiles, and you blink at him.

“Are you?”

He looks embarrassed about it the way you know most men in your life wouldn’t be. “One of my professors said if I wasn’t Eldian, I might have been offered a scholarship.”

“That’s amazing,” you say, a mix of admiration and pity swirling in your stomach. You wish you could help him. Do more for a man like this. 

“Yeah, well…” Kellan shrugs, but he easily replaces his bitterness with a smile when he looks at you again. “You have a good study ethic yourself. You’ll do great.”

You can’t help but laugh at that one. “I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like passing the state exams was a fluke.” 

“You wouldn’t be here if it were.” It’s his turn to frown. “None of us Eldians would.”

You wish that were true. Of course, you took the exams as Lucy Blanchard, and for all intents and purposes Willy had nothing to do with your results. You studied ridiculously hard to earn your grades and the state exam score—it’s just difficult not to wonder when Lord Tybur has always known what you were up to.

“Look.” He stops, moving to stand in front of you. “I know we just met, but—I don’t like hearing you say that about yourself. Okay?”

You can only smile. You haven’t known Kellan for half a day, but you don’t feel like challenging him the way you would the others if they said that to you. It feels like he deserves more than that. “Let’s just say I was always the more sports-oriented type. But thank you.”

Kellan looks at you as though he thinks you might say something self-deprecating again and he’s ready to gainsay it. When you don’t, he nods with approval and looks ahead. “Uh, so I was thinking…”

“What is it?”

“My friends study with me nowadays on university grounds. We’re allowed to, and the university library does have some books the store might not. The cafeteria has great food we don’t have in the zone, too.”

He glances over at you, and when you continue to wait for his point, he asks, “Do you want to study with us, maybe tomorrow afternoon? We have lectures to attend this summer, but I can maybe… pick you up afterward? The permit office will let you if you show them that you’ve confirmed your slot. If you want to,” he adds.

His offer is surprising and exciting and daunting in equal measure, because of course someone wanting to spend more time with you is nice, even if you’re ambivalent about meeting new people. Of course, the new people you met at boarding school knew you as Lucy Blanchard, the daughter of some Eldian servant for the Tyburs, and they were Marleyan to boot. Kellan’s friends are Liberio Eldians too. Maybe they’ll be just like him.

“I do want to.”

His uncertain expression immediately lights up. “Great,” he beams. “Will you be at the Yeagers’ tomorrow?” 

“Uh… yeah,” you answer, after some thought. You’ll be at HQ most likely, but you can always leave ahead of Zeke. “Just tell me what time you’ll arrive and I’ll have my permit ready by then.”

“Okay,” he says, pleased. “That works.”

You exchange smiles, and he walks you back to the Yeagers with a more relaxed silence than when you left. He hands you your books once you’ve unlocked the door to the house.

“I really have to get back to my uncle’s, but…” He scratches the back of his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, right? Maybe… four?” 

“Yeah,” you grin. When he waves, disappearing down the street, you hurry back inside toward the dining room. But it’s empty, with everything sorted in the kitchen. The Yeagers have left a note on the dining table about going out on a Sunday date, apparently presuming you would be out all day, but there’s another note from Zeke on the folded paper bag he and Porco brought home earlier. 

Crybabies only, it says. You thought it was part of Warrior work, but you open it and find a few jars of your old favorite fruit jam.

“Tch,” you chuckle, fishing out the jars and storing them, but you take Zeke’s note and bring it upstairs with your books. 

You get started on a simple lunch soon after. You want to re-wrap your new books in time for tomorrow afternoon, and make a note to replace Mrs. Yeager’s roll of plastic entirely since you neglected to buy your own. Once you get your permit for tomorrow, it’s still early enough that you have time to visit Mr. Finger, especially since you forgot to yesterday, and you end up sharing his dinner. You were embarrassed about dropping in when he was cooking, but he’s happy for the company, especially while Pieck is away.

To your relief, there are no guards in plainclothes outside the Yeagers’ when you return, and Mr. and Mrs. Yeager are in the living room chatting quietly between them. You greet them and hurry upstairs before they can ask you about Kellan, and allow yourself to linger in the bath when your reflection on Kellan inevitably leads to Mila and the night before. 

Given how angry she was yesterday, you already know what she would say to you if she found out about any man like him. Not that you have ever considered sharing your life with anyone, but surely she would accuse you of trying to find some way out of your duty again, even when she knows that the family made sure—

The doorknob turning to no avail rattles into your thoughts. It must be Zeke, since you share a bathroom, so you hurry to get out and get dressed into your pajamas again. Once you’ve brought your things to your room, you give his door a knock.

He opens it pretty quickly. It seems he wasn’t expecting you, because he looks surprised to see you still drying your hair with your towel. On his part, he’s still in his uniform—just without the coat and the belt, one side of his shirt unceremoniously tucked out of his pants. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you smile, more pleased than you should be. You feel like you’ve been waiting to see him all day. “Was that you? I’m done with the bathroom.”

“Ah. Thanks. I’m still finishing something anyway,” he nods, and leaves the door open when you don’t immediately turn and go.

You follow him inside, flopping at the edge of his bed while he goes to his desk again. “What are you working on?”

“Warrior stuff.”

Something must have him in a mood, but there’s no use poking him at this stage. “I saw the jam. Thanks for that.”

Zeke turns away from his desk, his serious countenance lingering just a little before it finally falls away for mischief at the reminder of his little gift. “Like my note?”

“No. And only because it means I’ll have to share it with you.”

“Heh. Yeah, sorry—just putting off turning in paperwork I should’ve gotten done before.” He sighs, obviously trying to settle down, at least until he seems to recall something else. He glances back at whatever he was writing, his pen swaying noisily between his fingers as it hits his desk. After a beat, he slides his work a little further away from him and asks, “How was the date?”

You’d almost forgotten about that. “Oh—it wasn’t a date,” you say, and realize how strange it feels to be discussing a boy with Zeke. “Kellan is just helping me study ahead of the semester.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, like a promise. You don’t care to mention that you’ll spend time with Kellan and his friends tomorrow afternoon. That was implied, right?

Zeke shrugs, sitting back against his desk chair. “When did you get so fond of studying, anyway?”

You shoot him a dirty look. “The way you and Porco tell it, it’s like I didn’t know how to read.”

“No,” he laughs, making the denial sound a lot more like affirmation, “I just mean you hated it. Before Bruning knew who you were, you were in the running for either the Jaw or the Armor for a reason.”

You peer at him. When Zeke only lifts a brow, challenging you to deny it, you click your tongue. “I guess. But I didn’t inherit anything, so what was I supposed to do? I was never interested in the varsity teams… not that they would have let me join as Lucy Blanchard. And I wanted to be useful somehow. I mean, actually useful.”

“I know,” Zeke says, watching your fingers lightly pinch at the hem of your pajama top in frustration. It’s almost amusing how your tells haven’t changed a bit, but he can’t deny that it’s endearing.  “Well… I’m glad you’re doing something apart from getting me in trouble for once.”

Your jaw drops. “I never got you into trouble for that long, did I?”

The two of you meet eyes for a moment, knowing the answer to that, but you both choose not to bring it up. He wouldn’t put you through that memory again.

“I don’t know,” he grins. “How long did I stand there getting an earful when you glued Nickel’s belt together?”

You stare at him, genuinely trying to remember—before you burst into laughter, hand over your mouth in sheer horror at the memory, as though you can’t fathom ever having done such a thing. Zeke is shaking his head, trying not to smile, when you finally calm down enough to present your defense. “That—that was Pieck’s idea!”

“No, Pieck said she wanted to do it. You actually did it.”

“But it was funny,” you grin. “And Nickel deserved it. Besides, I paid for that too.” 

“Yeah…” Zeke’s smile falters. He remembers. You had been about this close to being force-fed the glue you used that afternoon, when you found one of Magath’s fellow instructors asleep in his office. “Nickel deserved everything that came to him.”

He remembers what you looked like when they found you, busted lip still stubbornly set in a line, trembling as Pieck shed silent tears when Magath dragged Nickel out of sight. But then your foot nudges his leg, pulling him from his reverie so he remembers what you look like now. Not a bruised or bloody memory that still wakes him at night sometimes, covered in sweat, but Lucy in the flesh, with a knowing expression on your pretty face. Zeke supposes he’s just as easy to read when you know his tells, too. 

“Well... sorry about that anyway,” you say. “Pieck had a name for my brand of stupidity for a reason.”

Zeke knows what you’re doing. He grants it to you with a sigh. “No sense of self-preservation.”

“That. Don’t worry—I’ve developed one since then. Or Pieck’ll really give up on me this time.”

You give him a smile, as if he’s the one who needs comforting when it comes to that night. Why did he have to bring it up? He would put his foot in his mouth if that didn’t remind him of Paradis—of his most recent nightmare. The thought of everything you don’t know makes him feel like an ocean separates the two of you all of a sudden. Like you’re here, and he’s still on that island, a blade jammed into his maw. He shivers. 

You lean a little closer, elbow on the footboard. Of course you’ve noticed. “What’s wrong?” 

Leaving his pen on the desk, Zeke moves over to sit next to you on his bed. If nothing else, he can at least shorten the distance in one way. 

He has a lot to tell you, Paradis foremost of them all. He knows Pieck must have said something, but he’s managed to avoid the topic so far. 

He has a lot to ask, too—what was normal school like? Did you really not have any friends? You seemed to make easy enough friends with that Kellan character.

Zeke looks at you like he wants to say something, and then gets as far as opening his mouth before clearly thinking better of it. 

“It’s Pieck.”

Alarmed at his tone, you inhale sharply. “What about Pieck? Is she all right?”

He was holding his breath himself, but he relaxes with a chuckle.

“Yeah. She’ll be back with the Panzer Unit in less than a week.”

“Oh! Good,” you say, but then stare at him, obviously catching the lie in his old answer now. But he sees it when you shift priorities (Pieck was always one of them)—you’re clearly excited to have her home earlier than she promised, but the why of it is giving you pause. “So soon?”

“Yep.” He shifts away so that he’s moving up his own bed, at least until he catches you giving him a disgusted expression. You can’t stand it when someone still in their  out ��clothes wears them to bed, and he knows that very well. That earns you an eyeroll, but you’ve had so many arguments about it at this point, many of which began with well it’s my bed and which ended only because he couldn’t stand hearing you talk any longer, that Zeke only sighs and practically vaults himself off his sheets so he can grab a change of clothes before you can start.

He makes a twirling motion with his finger when you look, and you turn to face the wall. This must be the quickest that Zeke has ever grabbed or changed his clothes outside the rush of Warrior training as a kid. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly conscious with you in the room. It’s just you.

“You know it doesn’t count if you don’t shower, right?” you ask.

Zeke makes a snorting sound as he climbs back onto his bed in a shirt and a pair of pajamas, even if he feels like he’s twelve wearing the whole get-up right now. This time he ignores you until he’s got his back against his pillows and the headboard, legs stretched out over his blanket and his arms crossed over his stomach. “Do you want to know why Pieck is coming back soon or not?”

Your turn to roll your eyes. “Fine.” 

Smiling triumphantly, he pulls out one of his pillows and tosses it on the empty space next to him. You wrinkle your nose at him, but he did give you the clean pillow when he’s given you the other before, so you let yourself fall forward on your stomach and rest your head on your arms, both crossed over his pillow. Your hair looks warmer than usual against the light of his lamp as you peer up at him. “So?”

Zeke looks away and shrugs. He shouldn’t be telling you this. But if his room isn’t safe for secrets, then where is? “One reason. Lots of movement in the south these days.”

Between the old Southern borders of Marley and Ulodana lies its new Southern territories, swept off the board by Marley and into its net in years past through the efforts of the Warrior generation before yours. Mr. Ksaver’s, to be exact, before they started training children. You had heard of minor attempts at guerilla warfare within those former nations in their bid for freedom, but little else. After your summer excursion with Mila, you began to distance yourself from news of the world when it came to Marley’s expansion, the Warriors’ activities especially so. Ignorance was better than guilt back then, but Zeke doesn’t know that.

“The South… you quelled a small rebellion there, right?”

“Yeah, but…” One of his hands drums near your pillow, tugging once at its corner as he asks, “You don’t know?”

“The Tyburs aren’t told everything.”

“Fair enough. Between the two of us,” he says, giving you a meaningful look you return with an earnest nod, “a couple of the leaders escaped into the eastern peninsula. Who knows what support they’ve gotten since then?”

You take a deep breath and hum as you exhale. “...That explains why General List reached out to me.”

“List? He’s the one who called the meeting with you?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows. “Didn’t the commander say he was there?”

“He doesn’t tell me everything. So have you decided?”

You almost look amused. “You know I can’t move without Willy’s say-so.”

He shrugs. Needless to say he doesn’t care all that much for the new Lord Tybur, who sounds just as absent as your old man was back then. “I meant what do you want?”

When your surprise at his question starts to fade, you lower your gaze at his quirked brow, slouching a little. “I don’t know. List wants me to… ‘be the new face’ of the Foundation. Distance it, myself from the regime so we can build headquarters abroad and bring in intelligence. That way we can bring more Eldians into the safety of the organization, but...”

“What?” Zeke snaps, sitting upright all of a sudden, but all the reasons you shouldn’t do it skid to a halt behind his teeth when you recoil in surprise. He pauses, clearing his throat, and reaches up to scratch behind his ear instead. “...would your brother put you in danger like that? What about Tybur non-involvement?”

You scoff, eyes narrowed at nothing you can see here. “That’s not what the general thought. He only said Willy wouldn’t do it to Mila.” Zeke grunts at her name, and you shake your head. “I mean… maybe it’s moot. She would never give up control of the Foundation.”

“Yeah... Maybe.” Maybe it’s enough that you’re ambivalent. General List is one of General Calvi’s close allies, and he’s well-known in certain circles to get what he wants. But even he can’t change the century-old tradition of Tybur ‘neutrality,’ even if part of Zeke is curious to see if Mila Tybur or Hulbart List would win in a battle of wills.

He sets that aside when he catches a distant look in your eye. He’s only ever seen one reason you’ve looked like this. Or two. “She didn’t drop by again today, did she?”

You shake your head. “She had Foundation business yesterday. She must have gone from the city last night the minute she left here.”

“Then what is it?”

You look at him, and now he knows what it is. “I just… ugh,” your eyes fall to his sheets. “I don’t know. I was so pathetic yesterday. I wish I—I wish that I could have said something to her.” Your voice is quieter when you add, face flush with embarrassment, “I wish you hadn’t seen me like that.”

“This again,” he says at once. It was difficult not to cut you off from the get-go. “Have you forgotten already? If you have to be pathetic…” He reaches over to graze your chin with the curve of his index finger, tilting it forward so that you meet his gaze. “You can be pathetic in front of me. Understand?”

His soft smile is the same as it was in the hallway yesterday. Warm still, like the solid expanse of his chest when you wept in his arms, but suddenly his finger beneath your skin feels hot. Tingles where he touches you. Like your face, now that he’s looking at you like that. 

That’s not right. Zeke is either an annoying jerk who should shut his face forever or all comfort, blankets tucked up to your nose after a grueling day of work and a warm bath; a good night’s rest. Wrapped up in a hot blanket, the murmur of his voice lulling you into a deep and restful sleep. Not standing over a precipice with only the whim of the wind behind you or the rush of blood pounding through your ears without warning. 

This is not the Zeke you’ve wanted back for the past six summers.

His touch scalds you—or maybe the memories you keep closest to your heart, as if any closer, any longer and it might burn them away forever. 

You tremble, but not with pain, and decidedly ignore it as you stare at him, forcing a slight wince on your mouth. You hope he doesn’t notice you gulp. “That was probably more impressive when I was a kid.”

Zeke lets his jaw drop—it must have been a while since anyone denied him their awe—but he only laughs, so deep and hearty you feel his mirth in your own chest, before he flicks a finger at your nose. “You little ingrate. That was supposed to be touching!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grin, a little too widely for your own good. Batting away at his hand, you sit up and slide off his bed. You’re strangely hyperaware of the way you gulp again once your feet find your slippers. When your eyes meet, he’s pretending to be cross with you. Maybe you like it better that way. 

“But thank you,” you say, rubbing an arm. “Really.”

Zeke only nods, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as you head for the door. “Lucy—you still coming to HQ tomorrow?”

You glance back only once you’ve got your hand on the doorknob. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” he says, but he looks pleased. “All right, get out. Distracting me from work and then telling me I’m not impressive anymore…”

“Spend more time with the kids. They still think the world of you. Good night!”

Zeke could probably chuck a pillow at you when you give him a little cackle before shutting his bedroom door, but he lets you escape with your dignity intact. 

At any rate, he’s in a much better mood when he gets back to work.

////////

If you're worried about Kellan, you can click the fic list link on my bio for spoilers. (assuming you haven’t already read the other oneshots ahahha) 

The flashback at the start of the chapter (as well as the others in the next few chapters) is something of an edited excerpt from a long-ass oneshot I wrote detailing Lucy’s childhood from before she left the Tybur estate, going through her Warrior training, and until a little after the time Lara inherited the War Hammer which I was/am debating with myself about editing&posting maybe after finishing the sequel fic to this which occurs during the Mid East-Marley War. I wondered if I should keep flashbacks out except for 2 crucial flashbacks toward the end of the story, but I’ve been sad about the dumb leaks post-139, having this feeling of ‘what’s the point of all this then if it all ends in that’ (even if this will be canon divergent), and I decided I would like to show the most important bases for Lucy’s relationships with at least Zeke and Pieck before she left, plus editing this in made me happy, so yeah.

Also! I know Zeke was a sweet little boy... but he was alienated by his classmates when he did poorly at first and burdened with expectation his whole life. No doubt that alienation shifted to sudden praise, admiration, or jealousy as soon as he became a candidate, and my hc is it made him a cynical kid when it came to others his age and even older people. Of course, he does eventually learn to be more charming (or annoying) and does have friends (as much as you can have friends in his position and with his life view), but that to me is why he’s like that at 12. Mr. Ksaver is exempt from this obviously as he completely trusts the man.

Another note: This is tagged zeke x reader because it’s in 2nd person POV, but also zeke x oc because reader or Lucy has a set background and family name. If you've gotten this far in interim I'm sure you already know what that is. XD So... please don’t send me hate or frustrations about why she looks like she does in the commissioned art I linked in the top of this chapter. Her family name necessitates that she’s white, I'm sorry. I hate having to say this but I'm not white either, or white-passing or w/e, but as I said in my note in chapter 1 I want to write a Tybur OC. If you’re going to send hate about me making a Barbie doll to complete Zeke or whatever I’m just going to delete it. Lucy is much more than that, in fact Zeke is not an entirely positive force in her life though they may appear to implicitly understand one another, and I have an entire background story and development for her that I‘m excited to write and share. I’m (not) sorry if me taking the time out from that to commission art that makes me happy grinds your gears. Of course I hope that readers will enjoy what I've written for myself but if you don't like it, just click away please. I won't be responding to complaints about that from here on out.

Anyway, thank you as always for reading! Would love to hear what you think. Of the flashback, of Kellan, of Zeke, of Lucy's blatant denial of certain things (I love and hate this), whichever! (Also can you tell I love Porco? He notices everything. Or almost everything.)

[south-park-meta]

One thing I really don't understand is the common misconception about Kyle having to put up with Stan's emotional issues.

When it really isn't really all that much. And Kyle usually separates himself because he doesn't know how to deal with it.

Kenny dies, Raisins, Your getting old.

Where Stan has to put up with alot of more Kyles emotional issues. His rivalry with Cartman. I can see him bitching about it to Stan on regular basis.

Even if he disagrees with him Stan stays by his side.

Cartmanland, The List, CBAA, Obama Wins.

Also, Stan keeps it to himself. Kyle lashes out and causes havoc.

Could it be that Stan didn't really know very well how to give himself boundaries. Just the Cartmanland episode. We get Kyle whining about it how Cartman won a million dollars and he how is a good person and Cartman isn't, almost the whole episode. He even dies almost from overdramatizing so much.

Stan stays by his side, the whole time. He doesn't even complain once, that Kyle should get his shit together. If the roles where reversed Kyle wouldn't put up with this shit, even back in Season 5.

Is it because Stan sees himself more as the comforter and Kyle more as being comforted?

This is kind of tough because I agree that Stan has more patience than Kyle and is more emotionally mature than Kyle. And I agree that Kyle doesn't constantly put up with Stan's emotional issues, but I don't think the way Stan goes about it is healthy. I do think you're right that Stan would rather comfort people than be comforted, too. To start: I don't think Kyle should have put up with Stan in YGO/Ass Burgers. I don't even think he should have put up with him more in eps like Raisins. He tried being nice to Stan in both cases, he tried tough love in both cases, and in both cases Stan gave him squat for a response. In YGO in particular, spending time with Stan was actively keeping him from enjoying anything. Stan was actually mean to him in Ass Burgers, and Kyle values Stan's opinion of him a LOT. Like a lot a lot, like caring if Stan thinks his hat is dumb a lot. Kyle gets a lot of bullying from Cartman and feels the most an outsider because of his religion. I don't think Kenny or Cartman would've cared too much if Stan said 'Fuck you, you're a piece of shit', but this is a judgment call that Kyle expects from everyone BUT Stan. That's something that cuts DEEP. Cutting Stan off for his emotional health was fine. If Stan actually apologized and improved his behavior it seems like Kyle would've accepted it, too. Stan really wasn't negatively affected the same way. In Cartmanland, he gets Kyle's complaints even if he doesn't care nearly as much, and he's perfectly happy trying to sneak behind Cartman's back. In CBAA I think he keeps playing games while Kyle uses him as a sounding board. Kyle IS likely annoying him, but Stan knows he's working through his guilt to do the right thing. He knows that it is a temporary state and Kyle's coming around soon, versus YGO where it's just how Kyle thinks Stan is going to be forever since he got an official diagnosis. I think by and large these things honestly didn't bother Stan that much for one reason or another. Kyle complaining about Cartman IS a bit different, though, and it is something that we can see in more recent seasons. More recently, he's tried getting Stan to weigh in on his fights with Cartman, to act as tie-breaker, and Kyle's gotten an effective 'Why the fuck should I do anything?' in response. In the past I don't think Stan cared about Kyle complaining about Cartman either, tbh. He doesn't like Cartman and loves Kyle, so in the past it was probably more 'fond exasperation' coupled with getting in on it himself when Cartman annoyed him too, than really hating that Kyle did it. In recent seasons though, it's been like when you suddenly realize there's a little hum, a background noise, and all of a sudden it's LOUD because it's ALL you can focus on. Stan is sick of negativity. He's sick of fighting. He's sick of having causes. He's sick of having to seem functionally well. He is still hurt by Kyle, and that drains the 'fondness' out of the exasperation. I don't think that Kyle was crossing any boundaries with what Stan wasn't emotionally fine with, until Stan started shutting him down on complaining about Cartman in very recent episodes. Stan crossed emotional-burden boundaries for what Kyle found acceptable in Raisins and in YGO, and at least imo, when Stan is mentally in a good place, Kyle never did that. Maybe sometimes Stan should've redirected him, but genuinely I don't think it's beyond what he's capable of/what he likes dealing with when he's not in a very dark mental spot. When it came down to it, he did draw a boundary when he couldn't stand it by not getting involved in Kyle and Cartman's recent arguments. But Stan DOES have trouble with boundaries and he DOES like being more of a fixer than being fixed. He's grown up very aware of the fact that people have their own problems. And so they don't need his, so he does avoid complaining about his feelings, particularly when they're not connected to a cause that he intends to fix himself. And he wants people to like him, desperately. So if he can fix their problems, that will prove his

worth, it will prove his aptitude, it will prove he can fix his own problems, making the whole thing a terrible cycle. He doesn't want to ask for help because other people need help. He helps others, which proves he can do things without asking for help himself. Ideally Stan would be better at opening up when he has small problems, instead of only trying to talk about the ones that are so large that he doesn't even know where to even start in explaining them. When his feelings are big enough they're like 'How do I go on when nothing makes me happy' or 'I feel like my body's shutting down', that's just such a big difference from not usually talking about being sad at all. When it comes to Stan actually expressing emotions, not like, dumping on his friends calling everything shit, I do think he needs Kyle to be more receptive. And I do think Kyle gets uncomfortable when Stan's sad, and he doesn't know how to handle it, in part because Stan usually handles things well. But I also don't think it's fair to expect Kyle to know how to handle Stan's jump in emotions going from 'eh yeah that kind of sucks but it's fine' most days to all at once being more in line with 'How do I keep living?'. I think you're right that Stan really doesn't emotionally dump on Kyle or anyone else too much (though he's doing it more lately) but when he DOES he can go from 0 to 60 in no time flat. Having open communication about feelings is one of those things they both need to work on for sure. I want them to end up best friends again and I think time apart will help them do that. Coming back together as a choice instead of just because it's always been that way would be good for them. And hopefully they both get better at actually talking about feelings.

[darlingandmreames]

(also on ao3)

Eames sighed as another drop of water hit his face. No matter where he sat he seemed to be directly under something that was leaking; at this rate he’d still be wet by the time they woke up in 3 days, and that was not a pleasant prospect. “You did realize we’d actually have to stay in these places when you designed them, right?”

Ariadne shrugged. “They were all designed for Fischer to be held hostage in, and it needed to feel authentic. Besides,” she shot Yusuf a look, “I didn’t realize we’d be dealing with heavy rain the entire time.”

“I already apologized for that four times, I’m not doing it a fifth.” Yusuf frowned. “And it was free champaign! How was I supposed to turn that down?”

“With a polite smile and the knowledge that you were going to be unconscious for the next 10 hours.” Eames groaned and stood up slowly. “I’m going to go join Arthur in keeping an eye out. You kids get some sleep.”

He could still hear Yusuf grumbling as he walked over to the garage door. Arthur was seated next to it, a dent in the metal making it possible to see the general area outside without the door being open. He was watching it intently, gun in hand, as Eames sat down beside him. “Any sign of the projections?”

“No, we still seem to be good.”

Eames glanced over Arthur’s shoulder, trying to see out into the dark. “If they haven’t come after us yet, I’d say they probably aren’t going to at all. They don’t have any reason to now that we’ve left Fischer alone.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Arthur shrugged, still looking outside. “Doesn’t hurt to be prepared though.”

Eames nodded, watching Arthur as they fell into silence, the rain outside and Yusuf and Ariadne’s conversation in the other room the only noise around them. He’d been quiet the past couple of days which wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for him, but his quietness wasn’t usually this tense. Eames had a decent guess what was behind it but Arthur had kept himself busy and generally away from the rest of them over the past few days. He wasn’t exactly much of a conversationalist at the best of times, and he seemed particularly keen on not talking right now.

They sat in silence for a while, Arthur watching outside carefully. Eames went between watching the rain fall and watching Arthur’s profile in the dim light. He was tense, on guard, even though both of them knew they likely weren’t in any danger. If Fischer’s projections hadn’t attacked them by now, it was unlikely they would at all. At least not as long as they left Fischer alone. Yusuf and Ariande's conversation faded behind them, the two of them clearly taking Eames up on his suggestion to get some sleep, until there was just rain and silence. Arthur didn't get any less tense as the minutes passed though, gripping his gun tightly. Eames watched him carefully. "You alright?"

"Of course." Arthur's tone was short and clipped. Not the voice of someone interested in conversation. "I'm fine."

"You've just been a bit…tense the past couple of days is all."

"We're not out of danger until we wake up, and it'll be another 3 days before that happens. Of course I'm tense."

"Right. Yeah. Of course." They fell back into an uncomfortable silence. Eames watched as Arthur tightened his grip on the gun. He hesitated, wondering for a moment if he should just let this lie. Arthur clearly didn’t want to talk. But wanting to talk and needing to talk were two different things. "He's going to be alright."

"Who?"

"Cobb." 

Arthur's shoulders hunched slightly and he looked down. When he spoke again after a moment his voice was curt and hard. "You should go get some sleep. There's no use in both of us keeping watch."

"Arthur, you…"

"I'm fine, Eames. Get some rest."

"It's not your fault, it…"

"Yes, it is." Arthur's response was immediate and Eames flinched at the harsh tone. "It was my job to check Fischer's background thoroughly. His sub-security shouldn't have been a surprise. I fucked up. I fucked up and Saito got shot and Cobb followed him into limbo, and that's entirely fucking on me." His voice cracked slightly at the end and he looked back down, taking a deep breath. "If I'd done my job properly we wouldn't be here."

Eames stared at him, shocked. He'd heard Arthur angry before, his words harsh and tone hard, but not like this. This wasn't anger. This was pain. "You're good at what you do, Arthur. The best. There's no question. But you're not perfect. No one is. People make mistakes. They miss things. It happens to everyone, even you." He paused, considering his next words carefully. “And…even if you had found absolutely everything, you still wouldn’t have had all the information. Cobb deliberately withheld information about the job from us, and you know as well as I do that he brought shit in here with him. We would’ve faced fire from Fischer’s security regardless, but I guarantee we faced a hell of a lot more because of the freight train Cobb brought through that intersection.”

“It was still my job though. It was my job and I missed it.” Arthur’s voice was quieter now and he seemed to draw in on himself. “It’s my fault.”

“Arthur.” Eames rested his hand gently on Arthur’s arm. “Arthur, darling, look at me.” Arthur wouldn’t look at him fully, but he turned enough that Eames could see the pain in his expression in the dim light. “Don’t blame yourself for this. You made a mistake, yes, but this isn’t all your fault. And Cobb made his own choice. I know you’re worried, but his decision to stay in limbo was his and the consequences of that decision fall on him, not you.” 

Arthur looked away again, not saying anything. He didn’t pull his arm away though, and after a moment Eames moved closer, sliding his hand to Arthur’s back and moving his thumb back and forth in what he hoped was a comforting motion. He could feel the tension in Arthur’s body, like a rubber band that had been stretched too tight, ready to snap. Eames thought back over the past couple of days, to Arthur’s strained silence and tight expressions. Maybe that wasn’t really that inaccurate.

“And what if he’s not?”

Eames looked over, Arthur’s question surprising him slightly. He’d figured he’d said all he was willing to say. “Not what?”

“Not alright.” He was still speaking quietly. “What if he loses himself down there? You can say he’ll be alright all you want, but we both know there’s the very real possibility that neither he nor Saito will make it back. Who explains that to Miles? To his kids?” Arthur was gripping his sleeves tightly, distinctly not looking at Eames. “That’s all he wanted, Eames. To get back to them. I watched him after Mal died, after he had to go on the run. I saw what it did to him to have to leave James and Philippa. I followed him around the fucking world on job after job even after he started fucking them up and stopped being able to keep Mal out of them because I wanted to see him get home eventually. And I-” Eames could hear the tell-tale hitch in his breathing as he took another deep breath. “If he loses himself, I’ll be the reason he never made it there.”

“Don’t. Don’t do that, alright?” Eames wrapped his arm around Arthur’s shoulders, running a hand through his hair as he dropped his head, seeming to draw in on himself even more. “Don’t try and carry the blame for things that haven’t even happened. For things that aren’t your fault.”

Arthur needed to talk. Otherwise he’d try to ignore it and bury it and pretend it wasn’t there, that he was fine, and absolutely none of it would go away until he talked about it. Eames knew that. But he also knew the importance of silence sometimes. So he didn’t say anything when he felt Arthur’s breath catch or when his shoulders started shaking slightly, he just pulled him a little closer. Arthur moved easily with him, leaning against his side, bringing a hand to his mouth to try and muffle already quiet sobs. Eames had worked a lot of jobs with Arthur over the years and had seen him in a variety of situations and circumstances. He’d seen Arthur angry, seen him annoyed and frustrated and smug, seen him hold his own in fights that would’ve taken out most other people. But he’d never seen him cry. Extraction was a profession where vulnerability was a weakness and a thing to be avoided, and in all their years working together Eames had never seen Arthur’s carefully built and maintained walls crumble so completely. 

Arthur didn’t pull away even after his breathing started evening out again. Instead he leaned further against Eames, some of the tension finally draining out of his shoulders. Not much, but some. “Thank you.”

Eames could still hear the pain in his voice, mixed with sadness and blame. It would be a while before it went away, even once they woke up, even if Cobb was ultimately fine. He knew Arthur well enough to know that. It wasn’t quite as strong though, and Eames would take any victory he could, no matter how small. “Of course, darling.” He ran his hand through Arthur’s hair again, smiling as Arthur leaned into the touch slightly, sniffling quietly. “You should get some rest. I’ve barely seen you sleep these past few days.”

“Is it alright if…if we stay here for a bit?”

“Yeah. That’d be nice, actually.” Eames rested his cheek on the top of Arthur’s head and stared out at the rain falling outside as Arthur settled against him. His hand was resting on Arthur’s upper arm, and after a moment he felt Arthur’s fingers hesitantly brushing against his. He shifted his hand, intertwining their fingers slightly. “We can stay here as long as you want.”

It wasn’t long before Arthur’s breathing started to slow and he relaxed against Eames more fully. It briefly occurred to Eames that maybe he should wake Arthur up before he fell asleep too- he could already feel exhaustion tugging at him and sleeping sitting up like this certainly wouldn’t be the most comfortable option- but he dismissed the thought almost immediately. He could rationalize it as Arthur needed sleep and he might not fall back asleep if Eames woke him up, but he was tired and rationalizing things was more energy than it was worth. Arthur needed comfort. Needed someone there for him. And Eames wanted to be that person. Simple as that. He could figure out what that meant later, when he was less tired and Arthur was less upset. In the meantime, though, it was late and they’d had a long couple of days, and the pull of sleep was quickly getting too strong from Eames to ignore. He closed his eyes, letting the soft sound of rain and warmth of Arthur beside him surround him as he drifted off. 

[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! 

[hunflowers]

an angsty blurb, if you will. this was a tough one to write but i’m sad so imma make y’all sad with me :) also, it was not at all supposed to be this long but i suppose i got carried away lolz. and happy thanksgiving for all of you that celebrate *nose boops*

she wanted to cry. that’s all she wanted to do lately, was lay in bed, staring at the ceiling or the wall or the window while she just cried.

nothing was how it used to be. she used to be a very happy person, but life got in the way. it sucked, because she usually laughed in life’s face and made her own path. but not anymore. now, she wanted to apologize for never listening and for thinking she knew what she was doing.

as a college student, life is already pretty tough. that was a given because, obviously, it was the college life. life was gonna throw curveballs left and right and you’d have to be able to catch them.

and she usually did.

but, with graduation approaching, she felt this unbearable weight on her shoulders she couldn’t seem to shake. maybe it was because she was seeing less and less of her boyfriend, or because her mother stopped talking to her, or because her father was never actually in the picture, or because the people she thought were here friends turned out to be backstabbing assholes, or because she was failing two classes that she needed to complete her psychology studies to avoid going another semester.

of course, those could be the problems, or maybe she was just getting her period early.

the only thing she really cared about right now was cuddling up to her boyfriend, and hoping he would take away her worries. but, how could she do that when he was never around?

it was the weekend and he promised to come to hers as a nice little vacation, just them two and no one else all weekend.

he lied.

it was half past nine on a saturday night and he hadn’t even so much as called her all day. clearly he forgot and y/n was just about fed up.

she had no one right now, and she figured she at least had him to keep her company while the world was crashing down on her. but she didn’t have anyone and this was where y/n decided to draw the line.

it wasn’t like he had anywhere important to be this night. in all fairness he had a few friends like her, and was just as busy with the pending graduation in their future. he had no reason to not be with her right now, but alas he felt otherwise. and y/n didn’t need this stress anymore. it wasn’t uncommon for him to forget coming over or texting or calling her nowadays. school was always his excuse, but she just thinks it’s because he’s tired of her and he doesn’t know how to break the news to her.

two years of a relationship was simply thrown down the drain because he couldn’t be bothered anymore. maybe he was actually with a new girl right this second, but y/n didn’t have the energy to try and investigate. she didn’t have the energy to even care at this point. so, she had it set in her mind to not care and to just end things with him before he could with her. because at least she’d feel a little bit stronger in the end.

so, when another hour went by without a text or a call, and she had finished all of the chinese food she ordered for two and half of the movies she set out to watch for the night, she figured it was time to ring him up.

it took a while for him to answer, and just when she was going to hang up, y/n heard the familiar voice that used to give her butterflies. “hello?”

“harry?” she could hardly hear him with the loud music blaring in the background. y/n had to scoff because of course the reason he dipped on her was to party it up wherever.

“uh– hold on one second!” and then a few moments later the loud music ceased in the background, and it was just the two of them, like she had hoped.

“hey, what’s up?” he questioned like he was completely surprised to hear from her.

“i assume you forgot about this weekend then,” y/n murmured as she tried to hold back the tears that began to edge her waterline.

there was a moment of silence as harry pondered over what his girlfriend could mean. “this week– oh, shit. baby, listen–”

“a party? really?”

“the guys were hounding me to go! i’m so sorry i forgot, i’ll be over first thing in the morning,” he tried to reconcile, but there was no point. this was beyond a fix.

“you didn’t have to go,” y/n hissed, slowly getting more and more pissed off at the sound of his voice.

“it was a tough week this week, i figured i could let loose, if that’s okay with you.” normally y/n was pretty easy going with things, not necessarily letting people walk over her, but she never thought too deeply into things, especially like this. she knows he’s allowed to have a life outside of her, but it annoys her that she’s hardly even been in his life lately. so no, it really wasn’t okay with her.

“and i figured you could let loose with me. that was the whole point of promising to spend time together, so we could be together and deal with our shitty weeks together.”

“y’know, i apologized, i don’t know what else you really want from me,” he spat.

i just want you here with me, she thought.

“i don’t really know what i want from you either.”

“i’m not talking about this anymore. i’m sorry, i’ll make it up to you tomorrow but i can’t talk about it right now.”

“then i can’t be with you anymore.”

then there was a deafening silence that y/n hated so much. but she had to, because life sucked lately and he was very much part of that. if she could gain back her happiness, this was a start.

being with harry felt more like a job than a relationship, and proved to be more stressful than her actual job and school combined.

what kind of relationship feels like that? a shitty one.

she doesn’t know how long there was no words spoken between one another. it was probably around thirty seconds but it felt more like a lifetime. and if he didn’t say something quick, she was going to hang up.

and as much y/n prayed harry would just concede and make this process a lot less difficult, she also prayed deep down that he would fight for her. because if he fought, then that would mean he still cared for her, maybe a tenth as much as she cared for him.

when he finally spoke up, the tears in her eyes finally broke past the dam. “y/n. . . what’re you saying right now?”

“i think you heard me,” she responded as coldly as she could without giving away that she was a sobbing mess.

“baby–”

“harry, you forgot we had plans this weekend. you’re always forgetting and i just– i’m so tired,” she whispered the end, covering her mouth as a pretty loud cry escaped past her lips.

“you could at least have the fucking decency to do this in person,” he snarled back at her.

“how could i?! you’re never around anymore!” she shouted over the phone.

and then he hung up the phone on her.

and instead of feeling a weight lifted off her shoulders, y/n felt as though gravity had grown stronger, wanting to swallow her down through the ground and put her out of her misery.

she sobbed into her hands, gasping for breath every so often because she was so busy crying she forgot to intake air. she sat on her couch for an hour, letting out all of her pent up sadness from the past few months, wishing she could go back to how things used to be, when she was living her best life.

then a pounding on her front door sounded throughout her small apartment, shocking her from her fetal position instantly. she knew it was harry, but she hardly had the energy to move from her spot in her despair.

she ignored him but he just continued to knock and knock and knock until she would answer. she didn’t want to face him, especially looking like this because she knew seeing his face would just make things worse.

“y/n open this goddamn door before i break it down!” he screamed through the wood. realizing her neighbors were bound to venture out in the hall soon to wonder what was happening or to shut him up, y/n practically ran to her door to get him to stop his shouting.

quickly wiping at her eyes, as if that would help her at all, she opened the door and saw his pretty face and she nearly broke down again right there. but she had to stay strong because this was her idea. she was brave enough to spew those words to him, she had to stay brave to go through with it.

harry had a hard look on his face, as expected, but the second he saw his girl, puffy eyed, red nose, red cheeks, and shaky hands, his heart broke. he should remain mad because who was she to break up with him like that, but he knew she was right.

he was hardly around anymore, and it wasn’t on purpose, it was just the way his schedule worked. but he figured she was okay with it and that she would understand so he never took the time to explain himself. but if he wanted to keep her, he would have to do just that.

he couldn’t imagine his life without her, because she was everything he ever wanted out of a girlfriend. yeah, they were young and he shouldn’t be thinking of her as his wife just yet, but she was the perfect girlfriend, and he hated that he took advantage of that.

not even bothering to shut the door after him, y/n turned and walked back over to her couch, figuring he would just close it anyway after he stepped inside.

“we need to talk,” he started, making his way over to her and sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

“you think?” she scoffed, pulling her pillow closer to her chest.

he had the urge to roll his eyes at her harshness, but refrained himself from doing so. “look. . . i know, trust me i know i’ve been a horrible boyfriend lately. i never meant for things to turn out this way and i do take responsibility for it because i know you put in a lot of effort lately and i don’t know how to explain it but–”

“well you better figure that out then.”

he bit his lip, getting angrier at her coldness. “but the best way i can explain it is that i knew you would always be there no matter what. i took your patience and your kindness for granted, and i’m sorry.”

y/n looked at him with a blank stare, waiting for a better apology than that. she still couldn’t just cave then and there because not only was it a weak attempt at her forgiveness, but because it seemed so insincere. “is that all you have to say to me?”

“no. i love you so much, more than i can even fathom. you mean so much to me, and i’ll do whatever it takes for you to stay by my side, honestly. i’ll give you your space if you need it, i’ll tell you i love you as many times as you need it, the same for i’m sorry. please, baby, i love you,” he reached forward and took her hands in his, and her cool ones were a major contrast to his warm ones.

she let out a quiet cry as she leaned her head down on his shoulder, taking in the soft scent of his cologne.

she was going to cave. she knew she’d never be able to go through with breaking up with him the second he’d spew out some bullshit apology. but she just loved him so much and he was the only person in her life who seemed to give a shit about her lately.

so she caved. “space from you is the last thing i want,” she murmured as she crawled into his lap, really embracing him as she continued to cry in his chest. he gently caressed her back, giving her all the time she needed to let it all out.

“all i needed was you and i would be okay. you’re all i wanted and you weren’t here. i’ve had the worst few months and you weren’t here to help me through it,” she ranted while she sobbed, gripping at his shirt tightly.

he murmured ‘i’m sorry’ over and over into her hair, his own eyes swelling with tears as she continued to just cry.

“i’m here now, you can talk to me now. i’m all yours for however long you want me, love.”

then she hugged him closer and looked up into his eyes before planting the softest, yet most meaningful kiss upon his lips.

maybe things would be okay again.

[heavenly-roman]

Look At The Stars, Look How They Shine For You

Plot: In which Logan and Virgil both have crushes, and Roman and Patton are done with their shit

Warnings: sympathetic Deceit and Remus, crying, one (1) kiss, flirting, mild swearing, not a warning but roman is non-binary so

Pairing(s): analogical, background roceit (are u surprised?) and background intruality? dukality? moduke? idk it’s pat/remus, platonic drlamp

Word Count: 3894

if you like this, consider buying me a coffee?

Taglist: @emo-disaster @shitpost-sides

(ao3 link!!!)

this was my secret santa gift for @thepurpmann!!! very glad u enjoyed it, and thank u for giving me such a wonderful prompt :)

+++

“-and that’s when I said, listen here, buddy-” “Roman, shut up,” Virgil orders his best friend, who makes an offended noise and places their hand over their heart as if they’ve been wounded.

“I’ll have you know, it is very rude to-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Virgil waves his hand to dismiss Roman, before gesturing to a boy laughing with his friend. “Who is that? Is he new?”

“Aw, does little emo have a crush?” Roman backs away before their shorter friend can elbow them in the stomach as they anticipated. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! That’s Liam, or Levi, or Lucas, or… something like that. He’s in my first period math, super smart but kind of a show-off, if you ask me.”

“I don’t think you have any jurisdiction to call anyone a show-off, Princey,” Virgil shrugged, walking towards the boys and leaving Roman to pout.

Virgil approaches the pair, and before his anxiety talks him out of it, he asks the blonde boy, “Hey Patton, do you have the assignment rubric for art? I think I lost mine.”

“Oh yeah of course!” Patton chirps, slinging his backpack in front of him. “Just let me find it!”

Virgil smiles at him, and turns to face Liam or Levi or Lucas. “Sorry for interrupting you guys, it was just uh, important. I’m Virgil.” He rubs the back of his neck, all of his confidence drained from being so close to this new kid.

Liam or Levi or Lucas smiles, and Virgil’s breath catches in his throat. “Don’t worry about it, it was a mundane conversation that was vastly improved when you arrived. I’m Logan.”

Virgil feels his cheeks heat up as he reaches his hand out for Logan to shake. “Nice to meet you, Logan. You new here?”

“I just started here last week actually,” Logan grabs his hand and it takes everything in Virgil to not faint because wow, is he gay and this guy is strong. “Thanks for noticing. Although, I would've appreciated it more if you had noticed when I sat beside you in History class on my first day, and have been sitting there since.”

Virgil sputters, internally scolding himself for not noticing the hot guy that has apparently sat beside him for a whole week . “Oh, uh, sorry, I- that class is just really boring, you know? And I  usually fall asleep or listen to music so I don’t really, um, pay attention to the world around me. So… sorry.”

Logan begins to respond, but Patton beats him to it, pulling out the rubric for Virgil. “Okay, here it is! It’s a little crumpled by it should still be legible!”

“Thanks, Pat,” Virgil takes the sheet of paper and turns back to Logan. “I should get to class. See you in history?”

“Yeah, see you then,” and Virgil thinks he’s imagining the excited glint in Logan’s eyes. He gives a two-finger salute and walks away, completely ignoring Roman’s questions when he rejoins them.

+++

As the bell rang for lunch, Logan files out of class and beginning walking to his locker. Patton jogs to catch up, bumping his shoulder into Logan’s.

“So,” Patton starts, grinning as Logan nods at him to continue. “You and Virgil, huh? Does someone have a little crush?”

“Please, Patton,” Logan scolds, trying to ignore his flushing cheeks. “I just met Virgil today, there is no feasible way-”

“Logan.”

“Alright, I suppose I could be attracted to him,” Logan concedes, hiding his face in his locker to avoid Patton’s teasing gaze. When he emerges from his locker, money in hand to buy lunch, Patton’s mischievous smile greets him, and rightfully so, Logan becomes concerned. The blonde boy links his arm through Logan’s and begins marching them through the hall.

“Well, it’s a great thing that we’re going to have lunch with him and Roman then, isn’t it?” Patton smiles as Logan sputters, ignoring the taller teen’s protests and pulling him along towards the cafeteria. Logan spends their time in line trying to convince his friend to rethink his sabotage plan.

“Patton, this is a bad idea. I just acknowledged my possible feelings for him-”

“Hi Virgil, mind if Logan and I sit with you?”

“Uh, yeah, go ahead,” Virgil gestures for them to sit down. “Roman is just buying their lunch, they’ll be here soon.”

Logan nods stiffly and begins eating his pizza, silently cursing himself for becoming friends with Patton and letting him lead him into this situation. There are a few moments of awkward silence before Virgil speaks up.

“Hey, Logan?”

Logan looks up, wiping his mouth and nodding for Virgil to continue.

“Roman doesn’t know your name, so do you think-”

“You can call me many different names that begin with the letter L?” Logan raises his eyebrow.

“Please?”

“It would be my honour to mess with your friend.”

“A man after my own heart,” Virgil punctuates his sentence by placing his hand on his chest and wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. Logan ducks his head down to hide his blush from the two men he’s sitting with.

It’s then that Roman makes a reappearance, tray in hand, talking to a taller boy with a smirk on his face. The boy walks away and Virgil has to snap his fingers in his friends face to gain their attention.

“Hello? Earth to Roman?” He calls, chuckling at Roman’s love struck face. They shake their head to clear their mind and sit down to join the three other teens.

“Roman, this is Liam,” Virgil introduces, shooting a wink to Logan, who might as well just die right here.

“Pleasure to formally meet you, Liam,” Roman says, taking Logan’s hand to shake. “Say, have you met Dee?”

“Dee?” Logan asks. “Is that the person you were just talking to?”

“I was just talking to him, yes. Isn’t my boyfriend so cute?”

“He’s not your boyfriend, Ro,” Virgil corrects, stabbing his salad with a fork to emphasize his point.

“Not yet, but if he keeps flirting with me like that? I’ll force him to date me.”

“I’m sure there’s a nicer way for you to ask him out,” Patton playfully scolds. He elbows Logan under the table, to which Logan sends him a glare he can only hope is as subtle as he thinks.

“Nah, I think they’re gonna have to use force,” Virgil shrugs. “What do you think, Levi?”

“Levi?” Comes Roman’s confused whisper.

Logan suppresses a laugh and answers, “I don’t think Dee would flirt with you if he had no interest in you, Roman.”

Roman sends Virgil a look that Logan can’t define, and responds, “Thank you! Someone who has some common sense at this table!”

Patton pretends to be offended, while Virgil chooses to throw a cherry tomato at Roman’s face.

“I’m perfectly sensible, thank you very much,” Virgil picks up another tomato and laughs when Roman protects their face.

“If you’re so sensible, why haven’t you asked out-”

“Because Remus has a crush on Patton!” Virgil quickly interrupts.

Logan feels his heart sink. It’s foolish to think that Virgil could have been interested in him. Virgil is hot, funny, snarky, and in no way attracted to the nerd who sits beside him in history class. His breathing grows heavy and there’s a lump in his throat. Tears sting his eyes as he tries to control himself. How could he have been so stupid? And why on Earth is he so upset?

“-knew Remus has a crush on him, it’s very obvious Virgil. Almost as obvious as your crush on-”

“If you’ll all excuse me,” Logan whispers, his voice not able to go any louder in fear of crying in the very open cafeteria. He clambers out of his seat and speedwalks to the bathroom, doing his best to not draw attention to himself. He hears a Logan, wait! From Virgil, followed by a Logan? From Roman, and he can’t bring himself to laugh.

The bathroom is empty, luckily for him, but he throws himself into a stall anyway. He locks the door and takes off his glasses, furiously rubbing at his eyes to shoo away the tears. He thanks himself for having the common sense to have taken his things with him, and chugs half of his water bottle. He does not want a dehydration headache for the rest of the day.

Logan lets himself cry for a minute or two, before he hears the bathroom door open. Upon instinct, he holds his breath and pulls his legs up onto the toilet seat to hide any evidence that he’s there. He’s relieved to see an unfamiliar pair of paint splattered combat boots - that is, until the owner of said boots calls out into the almost empty bathroom, “uh, Logan?”

Logan silently curses - he figures one of the others sent this person in to talk to him, and from the impatient tapping of their boot, he doesn’t think they’ll be leaving anytime soon. He slides his feet off of the toilet seat and stands up, placing his glasses back on his face and takes a deep breath. He opens the stall door, and staring back at him is - Roman? No, a clone of Roman. A much edgier, slightly scarier, more facial hair having, clone.

“They were right, you are cute,” Clone said, looking Logan up and down. They sat against the wall and patted the spot next to them, signalling Logan to sit. Once he did, Clone spoke up. “My name is Remus, I’m Roman’s twin brother.”

“You’re the one that has a crush on Patton?” Logan asked, incredulously. “But you’re…”

“Scary?” Remus fills in, and Logan nods, albeit a little hesitantly. “I get that a lot, don’t worry. Roman will tell you that I’m terrifying, but that’s just because I've pushed them down the stairs one too many times.”

Logan laughs and says, “Well, I think Roman is obligated to be scared of you.”

“You’re right,” Remus sighs. They sit in a comfortable silence as Logan calms his breathing.

“You know,” Remus starts, “I’m not gonna make you talk about whatever made you so upset that you had to run to the bathroom and cry, just know that me, and the others, we’re all here for you, okay? Life sucks sometimes, and all that we can do is be there for each other.”

“Thank you, Remus. I really appreciate it,” Logan stands as the bell rings for third period. “You coming?”

“I’m always fashionably late to class,” Remus leans back against the wall and closes his eyes. “I think if I showed up on time, my teachers would send me to the nurse.”

Logan nods and begins to leave the bathroom, but not before saying, “oh and Remus? Patton’s face lit up when Virgil said you have a crush on him.”

Logan closed the door on Remus’ sputtering, laughing to himself and feeling slightly better.

+++

Virgil repeatedly hits Roman with his sketchbook while they walk him to art class. “I still can’t believe that you would try to tell Logan that I like him!”

“Well I still can’t believe that you tried to trick me with his name!” Roman retorts, catching the book in their hand and throwing it back at Virgil.

“You’re the one that didn’t know his name in the first place.”

“You’re the one that didn’t know he was in your class, smartass.”

Virgil rolls his eyes and waves goodbye to Roman, walking into class and sitting in between Patton and Dee.

“So Dee,” Virgil starts, gaining the boys attention. “When are you planning to officially ask out Roman?”

“I’d probably say the same time you’re planning on officially asking out Logan,” Patton cuts in, innocently shrugging his shoulders.

“I’ve known him for all of one day, Pat.”

“And yet you’re completely infatuated with him.”

“Excuse me, but-“

“Guys?” Dee tries, gaining their attention. “Could you not fight in the middle of class? I don’t think detention would be very ideal for any of us.”

The two boys mumble out their apologies, before Patton turns to Dee. “So when are you asking Roman out?”

Dee flushes and tugs his yellow beanie down over his forehead, “I was thinking of asking them to go with me to the Winter Formal. As a date.”

Patton squeals and Virgil nods approvingly.

“Well, as long as you don’t hurt them, I don’t care what you do.” He leans in close, voice barely above a whisper as he asks, “You know what I did to the last person that broke their heart?”

“Nothing, because you’re a good person and you wouldn’t want to hurt anyone?” Dee suggests.

“You wish, Anderson.”

Dee goes to respond, but their teacher begins class, and Virgil sighs a breath of relief. His relief, however, is lived for around three minutes, before their teacher tells them to use the period to finish their current assignment.

“So,” Patton whispers, and Virgil wishes he could disappear so he doesn’t have to have this conversation. “You planning of asking Logan to the Winter Formal?”

“No,” He whispers back, ignoring Patton’s sad expression.

“Why not?”

“Because,” his sentence is interrupted by their teacher shushing them, and reminding them to get back to work. He continues, whispering now, “ Because I just met him, and I have no clue if he even likes me back.”

“He does, Virgil. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He says no, we ruin our friendship-“

“The friendship you’ve had for a day?”

“Shut up,” Virgil grumbles, shoving Patton. “It would make everything awkward.”

“More awkward than it is now?” Patton raises his hands in surrender. “If you’d rather be two pining idiots-“

“Hey!”

“-that’s fine by me. But when you decide to act on your feelings? Let me know, and I’ll be there to help.”

+++

Fourth period comes, and Logan finds himself dreading it - he’ll have to face Virgil, and he does not want to explain why he ran off during lunch. He elects to just keep his headphones in and hopefully Virgil will ignore him like he has for the past week.

“Hey, Logan?”

Virgil does not ignore him.

“Uh, yeah, what’s up?” Logan takes out his headphones and cringes at his use of slang. Virgil half smiles and sits down beside him.

“You doing okay?” He asks, and Logan can see the concern in his eyes, and damn it, why does he have to be cute and nice?

“Yes, I am perfectly alright, Virgil. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Virgil bumps their shoulders, before turning to look Logan in the eyes. “Listen, I’m not gonna make you tell me-“

“I already heard that all from Remus, but thank you. I really appreciate it,” Logan chuckles. He turns his attention to the teacher as he announces that he’s handing back tests. He looks over, seeing Virgil pale at the announcement.

Logan knows he didn’t do this test - all of his work from his previous school will be counted up and he’ll continue from the new unit - yet he can’t help but feel dread in the pit of his stomach as the teacher places Virgil’s test on his desk, face down.

Virgil peeks at the top corner of his test and swears under his breath. He’s hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand, and Logan swear he can hear him mutter, “stupid, stupid, stupid,” over and over again.

“Everything, uh, gucci, Virgil?”

Virgil lets outs humourless chuckle. “Uh, yeah, yeah I’m- I’m good, yeah.”

“May I see your test?”

Virgil hesitantly hands over the paper, burying his head in his hands. Logan flips it over and inhales a sharp breath through his teeth. At the top of the page, in large, red numbers, it says 52%, followed by see me after class .

“Virgil?” Logan asks. The hum he gets in response urges him to continue. “Do you need tutoring?”

“Oh, um,” Virgil rubs the back of his neck. “I - I don’t know about that.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know that right?”

“Yeah, sure,” but the glossiness of his eyes told Logan a different story.

“How about this - I’ll come over and help you with our homework, and we can think of it as a study group. We’re both learning, yeah?” Logan suggests.

“Yeah,” Virgil nods, a small smile creeping its way back onto his face. “Thanks, Logan.”

“Anything for a friend.”

+++

“So the French Revolution-“

“Which one?”

“Virgil-“

“Sorry, sorry, I just - I don’t know why we’re learning all of this? It seems… unnecessary.”

“Why don’t we take a break?” Logan stands from the desk chair and heads to the door. “We will resume in ten minutes.”

Virgil nods and pulls out his phone as Logan leaves, presumably to go to the bathroom. He scrolls through his notifications - a few from Tumblr, Instagram, until a text from Roman pops up.

From: Princey!!

          VIRGIL VIRGIL VIRGIL

To: Princey!!

          yes roman?

From: Princey!!

          DEE ASKED ME TO THE WINTER FORMAL

         AS A DATE

         WERE GOING ON A DATE

To: Princey!!

          that’s awesome!! glad he finally smartened up

From: Princey!!

          Me too!!!!!!! :)))!!!

         Now you just have to smarten up and ask out Logan and we can go on a triple date!!

To: Princey!!

          triple?

From: Princey!!

          Remus asked Patton out yesterday!!!!

Virgil decided not to answer just ask Logan walked back in. The latter checked his watch. “Still have six minutes left of our break, it seems.”

“Yeah,” Virgil mumbles. At Logan’s concerned look, he elaborated. “Dee finally asked Roman out. They’re going to the Winter Formal together.”

“Thank heavens,” Logan sighs, slumping down into his chair. “If I hear Roman complaining about how Dee won’t ask them out one more time …”

“And, uh… Remus is going with Patton.”

“Really? I’m surprised he didn’t chicken out,” Logan says, shrugging. “So, that just leaves you and me, right?”

“Yeah, um, we’re the only two without…” Virgil’s eyes flick down to Logan’s lips, and he truly hopes that his friend is as oblivious as he says. He swallows hard, adding,  “Without dates.”

“So the logical thing would be to go with each other.”

And Virgil is glad he didn’t choose to take a drink at that moment. His face goes red and he stammers out, “You… you want to go, uh, together? As-“

“As friends, yes. I’m sure it would make for a less… lonely night.” Logan looks unsure, “that is, of course, if you’re not planning on asking someone else.”

“I’m not!” Virgil answers too quickly. “I’m… I’m not.”

“Satisfactory. I suppose we should coordinate, then. What’s your favourite colour?”

+++

“As friends?”

“As friends,” Virgil sighs, adjusting his backpack straps as he walks with Roman. “But he still wants to match, so I’m here to find a blue tux and a purple tie, and honestly, is blue really my colour?”

“Virgil, calm down,” Roman pauses their walking, thankful that the mall isn’t very crowded. “You’re getting worked up. Blue will look lovely on you, I promise. Is he wearing the same thing?”

Virgil takes a deep breath and opens his eyes that he didn’t know he closed. “No, uh, he’s getting a purple suit and blue tie.”

Roman’s gasp would’ve scared Virgil, had he not seen the excitement in his friends' eyes. “You’re wearing each others colours? Virgil that is truly-“

“Say adorable and you’re dead.”

“-adorable.”

“And now I’m shopping without you,” Virgil begins walking away, until Roman catches up to him and reminds him which of the two of them has style, and which one wears a hoodie everyday.

They spend the afternoon going from suit shop to suit shop, only getting mildly distracted when Roman sees a dress they just had to try on.

Finally, they find the perfect suit - navy blue, and very subtly pinstriped. Along with that, Virgil buys a purple tie, matching almost perfectly to the patches on his hoodie.

He’s as ready as he’ll ever be.

+++

Logan sharply knocks three times, and stands back, waiting for the door to open.

“Oh, hello Logan!” Says Virgil’s mother. “Come in, come in, Virgil is almost ready.”

Logan nods, accepting the invitation. He stands in the doorway, tapping his foot. He pats his pocket, and soon after all his worries come to the front of his head. What if he hates it? What if it’s inappropriate for a school dance? What if-

“Logan?” Virgil is right in front of Logan, waving his hand in his face. “You alright?”

“Yes, I’m…” Logan takes the opportunity to finally look at Virgil - his blue suit fitted perfectly around his shoulder, his white shirt contrasting perfectly with his pale skin. Logan feels his mouth go dry, because damn is he gay . “...fine.”

Virgil smirks, “you sure about that?”

“Yes, I am perfectly alright.” Logan clears his throat, “you look… very handsome.”

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Virgil flushes. “You look great, too.”

“Thank you,” Logan smiles.

“Shall we go?”

“Oh, um, actually,” Logan pulls the small box from his pocket. “I got you something.”

Virgil takes the box, the look of surprise on his face morphing into excitement. He pulls out the handkerchief, black with constellations printed on it. “Logan, this is… beautiful. Thank you.”

“Of course. You spoke about how fascinated you were by the stars and I saw it and thought of you, so...” he pulls out a second handkerchief. “I got one for myself, as well. Now we are truly matching.”

Virgil fiddles with the handkerchief and eventually manages to fit it into his pocket. “Now, shall we go?”

“Let’s.”

+++

The venue is decorated with blues and silvers, snowflakes at every table and white Christmas lights strung on the ceiling.

The group found table 16 and sat down with their respective dates.

“So, Logan,” starts Roman. “How’re you enjoying your first official dance at Sanders High?”

“I suppose it’s satisfactory. Though I’m sure the food will not be to my liking,” Logan looks at Virgil and mutters, “my date is quite nice, however.”

The flush on Virgil’s face is enough to tell Logan that he’d heard. “It’s never good, by the way,” he answers.

The DJ turns on a slow song, and Virgil proposes, “Do you want to dance?”

“It would be my honour.”

The two make their way to the dance floor, holding hands and sufficiently blushing. Virgil holds onto Logan’s waist as Logan moves his hands to Virgil’s shoulders. They sway for a short while until Patton “accidentally” pushes them closer together.

Chest to chest, Logan feels his heart figuratively pounding out of his chest. He looks up at Virgil and his partner smiles, and Logan is overwhelmed. He leans up.

He leans up and kisses him.

Virgil, to his credit, is only surprised for about three and a half seconds before he kisses back. His hands move from Logan’s waist to his cheeks, and he pulls him in impossibly closer.

They break apart when the song ends, and pretend to ignore the cheering from their friends. Slowly, Virgil leans down again for a soft, shorter kiss.

“So,” Virgil says.

“So,” Logan replies.

“What do you say we go on a real date, hmm?”

“You mean going to a school dance as friends and then kissing halfway through doesn’t count as a real date?” Logan chuckles, “and here I thought I’d been doing it correctly.”

“You’re a dork.”

“Your dork.”

“Yeah, I guess you are mine.”

[fiendfluid]

it is an unmooring of the mind

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Jonathan Sims & Daisy Tonner, Martin Blackwood & Daisy Tonner Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan Sims, Daisy Tonner, Peter Lukas, Tim Stoker, Background & Cameo Characters Additional Tags: Selkies, Drowning, Lonely Typical Depression And Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, Body Horror, Touch-Starved, Casual Physical Affection, Blood and Gore, Hopeful Ending, Fluff and Angst Chapters: 7/10

“Persistent bastards.”

Jon pulls the binoculars away from his face, his mouth set in a grim line. 

They had to leave port without Daisy, with the Tundra looming ominously in the horizon--drawing closer with every panicked minute of unmooring and setting off. Jon had insisted she would be able to track them down, but even he had looked worried, which of course set Martin off in turn. 

They set off, staying as close to shore as they dared, something about being in the open water without her set Jon on edge, though nowadays anything did, really. Not that he was paying attention.

“Your lot must have finally killed one too many of their playthings.” Martin mutters coldly.

In the six days of speedy travel away from the Tundra, nothing had been done to improve the strain between them--not that either of them have tried to fix anything; Jon just hovers around, like some kind of nervous moth, drawn toward the light but unsure what to do once it got there--and frankly Martin isn’t in the trying mood. 

“Martin,” Jon says slowly, staring in that way he does often; usually when he thinks Martin’s being a moron. “the Tundra was never chasing after me, they’ve been looking for you.”

Martin scoffs, frowning. “What? No it’s not. They dragged you onto the ship in the first place, Lukas has been trying to kill you!” 

The clouds overhead crackle with ill temper, casting the boat in strange, draining grey light. It makes Jon appear more gaunt, haggard as he slides into the chair across from Martin. He hasn’t been sleeping, that much is clear from the shadows under his eyes, the lifeless sheen to his skin--and even if he hadn’t been looking, the nightmares are enough of a tell themselves. Martin stamps down the spark of pity he feels.

“While you’re right that Peter Lukas has never turned down a chance to hurt us, he’s never gone out of his way to seek us out until now.” Jon clarifies. “He’s--he’s probably not even allowed to kill me.”

“What does that mean?” Martin asks, and Jon twitches uncomfortably. 

“It’s a long story.” Jon deflects, fumbling blindly for his lighter as he lights up yet another cigarette. But Martin isn’t in the mood. 

“No, sorry, you don’t get to do that.” Martin says, stabbing an accusing finger toward Jon. “Now isn’t the time for secrets or being cryptic. No more games, so just talk like a normal person.”

Jon doesn’t so much as flinch, matching Martin’s stony gaze with one of his own. He has never been one to push, or walk directly into conflict, but he holds his ground now, and it doesn’t take long before Jon relents, letting out a long, frustrated noise akin to a growl alongside a billow of smoke. 

"You’re right…” Jon concedes, like he’s been forced to swallow glass. “listen, things have happened with Lukas in the past, terrible things I don't ever wish to repeat--you don't know what he is, the friends he keeps."

“Then tell me.”

“Fine.” Jon starts, his voice adopting a tone of professional distance, his eyes fixed at a point just past Martin's shoulder. “I have not been, nor will I ever be safe as long as I live this life as a creature such as I am. I have spent years avoiding the nets and collars of every monster worse than I that wishes to claim me or my skin. But the Tundra has always been one step ahead of me...”

Jon trails off, lost in thought. He smiles so sadly that Martin almost asks him to stop, but curiosity keeps him quiet. 

“I was so cocky, so sure of myself and my abilities. But you can't avoid a cage when it is shrouded in fog.” Jon continues, “I was caught--Lukas wanted to give me back to the Institute, as a gift, probably. I had to fight tooth and bloody nail to get away before that happened. By the time that damn ship finally vanished from the horizon, I was just angry.

“I met Daisy, and she was willing to help me…deal with the Tundra. So I tried to hurt him. Whatever he wanted I took before he could have it. Whether that be potential victims turned proteges or damaging the ship, it didn't matter. We were riding the world of monsters, at least, that's how it felt...but well, you know.”

His eyes flit up to catch Martin's gaze before shying away. “Things...changed.”

His voice warps and changes, fraying at the edges of control. Martin can feel the way his own face turns down in a grimace, unable to keep his horror from manifesting. Not when Jon bares his soul, albeit reluctantly. 

“But he never retaliated against us,” Jon frowns, with a very unsubtle clearing of his throat, “he’s never batted an eye until now.”

“The Institute you mentioned,” he starts softly, wary of Jon’s responding flinch. “does Lukas have a hand in that as well?”

Jon shakes his head, gathering his arms close around himself. “Not entirely. He supplies them with money and other such things. No, that place is...someone else’s doing.”

“And they hurt you too? They did--” Martin cuts himself off. He weakly gestures toward the whole of Jon. 

“Not all of it.” Jon says, rubbing at a couple of his scars. “But yes.”

“And have you hurt them? Has it even helped at all?”

“No. No it hasn’t.”

“Well.”

“Like I said, I'm not trying to justify my-my monstrosity.” 

“You aren’t a monster, Jon. But I don’t understand why you chose now to run away from everything.”

“Because I’m scared, Martin!” Jon snaps, his voice loud like an explosion between them. “I don’t ever want to set foot on that ship again, and I won’t go back to whatever hellish games await me inland. But Lukas wants you--for what I don’t know, could be something to do with the mark Gerry mentioned or simply just being a part of the Tundra, but that could mean anything. So if it means I have to run to protect us, then I will.”

Martin takes him in, all harsh edges and deranged eyes; biting at his lip with single minded doggedness, nails scraping skin as if to rip up every one of his imperfections up from the root with little care for the damage he’ll leave in its wake. 

“You don’t have to fight the world alone,” he says at last, though he isn’t surprised when Jon just shakes his head in instantaneous refusal.  “I’m scared too, for what it’s worth.”

Jon jerks as if struck. The look on his face shatters the distance between them just as swiftly as it shatters Martin into a million tiny pieces. He meant it to pacify, to calm the turmoil raging away in Jon's mind so plainly. But Jon just looks as if the world crashed around his shoulders, the wall he had been building back up between them falling to the wayside, leaving him small, fragile. 

“I'm sorry.” he says, with such sincerity and grief it stabs a shard of pity deep into his chest, that Jon would assume it was him Martin was afraid of. Maybe in the past that would have rang true, that his deeds would have proven too damning. 

“Just promise you won’t do that again.” Martin says, holding his gaze without flinch. 

Jon bristles immediately, predictably, despite all his claims against defending himself. His face does an interesting dance, twisting an array of emotions too quickly for Martin to truly parse until he lands on something weary, accepting. 

His voice is small, a croak of noise in the hollow of his throat. “Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Yes, okay.”

“Just to clarify, you know I mean the drowning--”

“Yes, Martin. I understand, thank you.” He snorts, a humorless sound but a step in the right direction. 

Martin ducks his head, hiding the small, blooming smile spreading across his lips. He reaches out between them, plucking the cigarette from Jon’s unsteady fingers, ignoring the absolutely pissy look it earns him. Depositing it into the bin where it belongs, he turns back to face Jon, daring him to argue. 

Jon scowls, albeit softly, something turning it wobbly. He raises the binoculars back up to scan the empty yet teeming wake they leave behind, not saying another word.

(LINK TO READ THE REST IN THE REBLOGS)

[foodscienceyo]

""Natural"" isn't always better: that word exists as a marketing tool to make you believe it's better.

Some background: "natural" flavors or colors are any plant- or animal-derived materials used for the functional purpose of imparting color or flavor to a food item.

But wait: that doesn't mean that a natural strawberry flavor necessarily comes from strawberries: it could come from ANY plant or animal.

And I'm not saying there is anything wrong with that, but I strongly believe in labeling food products with as much detail as possible. This also HEAVILY IMPLIES to the uneducated consumer that there are "real" strawberries, when there may not be.

"Any plant or animal" is the legal clause that makes it possible for things like vanilla flavor to be derived from a beaver's butthole, or orange color to be derived from a beetle's shell.

Now... again.... I'm not saying this is a bad thing: those have been tested and processed so that they are very safe. But I believe that the consumer has a right to decide where they draw the line at "ick," and I hate that they will both just be labeled on the ingredient deck as "natural" flavor or color, without any further clarification. Furthermore, a vegan or vegetarian or religion practitioner could look at an ingredient label and think, "no animal products? This is ok for me." When in fact, it's not actually vegetarian. (Unless the label actually specifies with a vegan, kosher etc claim).

Natural ingredients also fluctuate wildly in their quality and nutritional content due to changing environmental factors. This leads to a MASSIVE amount of food waste. Seriously... I've seen THOUSANDS of gallons of natural colors go down the drain because they separate or lose their vibrancy or develop off-odors, whereas artificial colors can accomplish a more beautiful hue at a tiny fraction of the natural dose.

Conversely, EVERY. SINGLE. batch of aritificial FD&C colors "yellow #40" etc. has to be SENT TO THE FDA FOR TESTING AND APPROVAL. So there is no doubt whatsoever about the composition of the ingredient. But natural colors? No way is every batch watched with such scrutiny, so you KNOW natural companies are getting away with more BS.

In MANY cases, an artificial ingredient and natural ingredient are the EXACT SAME compound: an assay wouldn't be able to tell the difference and nether could your body. But the natural may have had to go through WAY more ingredients, processing steps, and strain on the environment. Synthetic production can be streamlined to be efficient.

Also, keep in mind that anything made synthetically can be done so in a controlled environment free from contamination. Nature breeds parasites, pathogens and pests, whereas a lab is clean and controlled.

I'm NOT saying "avoid natural flavors." Most of them are really awesome. And usually there is only a tiny drop of it within thousands of pounds of product, so even if they WEREN'T safe (which they are) your body really won't even notice them. There's also a huge challenge to working with them since they're so temperamental, so I'm always impressed when product developers use them beautifully in a recipe. Also, a lot of them ARE beneficial to the environment. For example: a factory producing jams or juices has to heat their fruit/veggies, which means all of those aromatic volatiles would be lost to the air. But instead, they capture it and produce natural flavors this way, ensuring that not even a drop of delicious goes to waste. Pretty cool!

[ventrue-rosary]

A Flower of a Different Colour

A re-upload of this post since its broken on tumblr mobile

Autumn is mine, Kevir belongs to @theravensprince

Ko-Fi

Beepbebebeep!  Beepbebebeep! 

Autumn flings her arm ungracefully out to the alarm obnoxiously intruding upon her morning. Her fingers scrabble for the off-button, leaving her in blessed silence. 

She rolls over with a sigh, her eyes peeking open. The digital clock reads 6:30.

Autumn stretches her sleep-heavy arms and sits up, rubbing at her swollen eyes. As always, she crosses her bedroom to her windowsill, watering her cacti, succulents and pot of creeping ivy climbing up the wall next to her window. She smiles as she gently traces the leaves with her hands. Satisfied with her work, she readies herself for the day. By 7:30 she is out of her apartment, and making her way to work. Though young, she is the proud owner and worker of her own florist shop: A Rose Without Thorns. She opens shop as the sleepy neighbourhood rouses, workers sleepily stumbling to their workplace and parents sheparding their children to school. 

As with most weekdays with no major holidays on the horizon, the morning crawls by, only a few of her regulars coming by for a single flower or pot or just for a chat. As usual, her mother stops by late morning for a bouquet of roses and to drop off some of her favourite snacks.  By lunch time, work crawls by to a complete stop, but it does give her time to perfect the arrangements of the flowers outside, then slowly work her way through the inside of the shop. 

The bell above the door rings. Autumn looks up from her work to see someone a far cry from her usual clientèle.

A purple winged tiefling steps into her establishment; black jeans, black leather jacket and black combat boots that stomp heavily across the wooden floor. Tousled hair perfect frames his angular face, and impossibly dark eyes sweep across the room until they find Autumn. 

She then realises she is still knelt on the floor, openly staring. 

‘Oh--’ She averts her gaze and jumps to her feet, smoothing down the frills of here mini-apron as she hurries behind the counter. 

‘Welcome! Let me know if I can help you with anything.’

‘I’m looking to buy flowers for a pretty girl,’ he says, his voice pleasant and accented. 

‘Oh? How lovely! Do you know what kind of flowers she likes?’ Her shoulder unclench as some of the anxiety drains from her body. If he came to make trouble he likely already would have done so.

‘Not yet. What would you recommend?’

‘Roses are always a safe bet. Red roses, if it's a romantic gesture. You see, different colour roses have different meaning behind them. Pink for friendship, orange for familial bonds, white for purity and spirituality--’ She tapers off with a blush as she beholds his amused smile. ‘Sorry, I’m rambling.’

‘That's alright. I was enjoying listening to you.’

Autumn feel her blush deepen. 

He picks up a large red bouquet. ‘May I ask your name?’ he asks as he hands her the money. 

‘Huh? I-oh. My names Autumn.’

‘Autumn? Fitting. I’m Kevir. Keep the change.’

‘O-ok, thank you.’

He grins at her one last time before he leaves her shop, leaving a very flustered Autumn. 

~

As 5pm rolls around, Autumn begins to close shop, still thinking about her encounter with Kevir. She doesn't like to think of herself as judgemental, but she had thought of him as trouble when he first walked in. How wrong she had been. 

She finds herself wondering about the girl he mentioned. She hopes she appreciated his gift. 

Autumn double checks the doors are locked and turns around--right into Kevir. She squeals in shock, nearly falling right to the ground. 

‘S--sorry!’

‘I didn't mean to scare you. I did call your name a few times, didn't you hear me?’

She notices Kevir still holds the bouquet of flowers in his hands. 

‘Oh, did you want to return them? I’m sorry, you’ll have to return tomorrow--I just closed up.’

‘No, I didn't want to return them--I wanted to give them to you.’ He holds out the flowers to her

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I bought them for you. Take them.’

‘T-thank you?’

He gives her a wink and walks away, eventually heading into the tattoo parlour further down the road. 

When Autumn examines the bouquet in her hands she spots writing on the card:

07113246589

Call me! ; ) 

-Kevir

Autumn makes a noise of disbelief. He couldn't be serious. He isn’t.  Is he? She  shoves the card in her bag before making her way home. 

~

The TV drones on in the background, going unnoticed by Autumn who stares at the roses that have found a home in the vase on her coffee table. She glances at her bag across the sofa. 

She abruptly drags her eyes away, trying to focus on the drama playing on the screen. Trying and failing. 

Autumn snatches her bag and drags it over to her, pushing aside her purse, makeup and the snacks her mother had given her until she finds the small, crumpled card. 

She smoothes it over her thigh as she holds her phone in her other hand. Her finger hesitates over the digits on her screen as doubt begins to cloud her judgement.

‘Oh just do it,’ she hisses at herself

She dials before she changes her mind. Each enduring trill of the ringtone quickens her heartbeat. Then it stops with a click. She holds her breath. 

‘Hello?’

Autumn hangs up with a scream. Her head falls into her palms with a groan. She has basically committed social suicide with this guy. A good-looking seemingly kind man interested in her and she screamed down the phone at him. 

The ringing and vibrating of her phone draws her attention back to her coffee table, Kevir’s number displayed on the screen. 

She watches it ring in silent panic until it stops. She breathes in relief. Then it rings again. She turns off her phone, ending the predicament altogether. She likely had already put him off, what further harm could she do by ghosting him? 

Autumn hugs her knees to her chest, wishing she had the courage to hold a conversation with him. She let's herself fall limp on her side, still clutching her knees. Eventually, sleep finds her. 

Autumn returns to work the following morning, business as usual minus her sullied mood. She is still mad at herself for being an awkward coward. 

Around 2 hours after she opened, Kevir enters. A thousand emotions fly through her at once at their meeting, mostly abstract fear. 

‘O-oh , mood gorn--good morning!’

‘Morning yourself.’ He leans his elbows on the counter, mere inches away from her. ‘Did you, uh, did you call me last night?’

‘H-huh?’ Her voice is a few octaves higher than usual. ‘No, of course not!’ 

‘Oh,’ Kevir deflates. ‘I see.’

‘I--I mean, I wanted to!! I, um, I dropped my phone yesterday. Screen-down, it shattered, totally unusable.’

Kevir doesn't look convinced. Of course he isn’t, she's a terrible liar. 

‘I’m… I’m glad you came to see me today.’ Autumn’s changing of subject is likely very obvious, but at least she is speaking honestly now. 

‘I’m glad to see you.’ His smile is disarming. ‘Say, wanna get lunch together?’

‘Y-yes I would like that.’ She smiles shyly, toying with her hair to avoid looking him in the eye. 

‘Perfect. See you in a few hours.’

Autumn doesn't look up until she hears the bell jingle as he leaves, the smile still stuck on her face. 

She looks up at the clock. Midday can’t come soon enough. 

~

Kevir returns around 12, and Autumn feels her heart flutter as he enters. 

‘Ready?’

‘One moment!’ She pulls on her apron strings, folding it onto the chair behind the counter. She fetches her shoulder bag from the back room and takes a moment to check her reflection. She shakes her bangs and uses her fingers to even them out over her brow, smoothes down her hair and applies just a bit of lip gloss. She only wishes she had worn something a bit more exciting than a white blouse and black mini-skirt. 

‘OK, ready!’

‘Let's go. I know a little place.’

Kevir takes her to a cute cosy cafe a few blocks down, named The Pot and the Kettle. Not many patrons inside, but it means they can snag the cosiest chairs; two impossibly soft, large armchairs close to the fire with a large table between them. Being a rather tepid spring, there is no fire but there is still something comforting about it. 

A cute elven waitress takes their orders. Kevir orders black coffee and a slice of chocolate cake. Autumn asks for a white chocolate mocha and matcha pound cake. 

Kevir tilts his head at her order. ‘Sweet tooth?’

‘Very much so! I love sweets, chocolate and baked goods… Oh that must seem childish.’

‘Not at all! Food doesn’t have an age limit. I have a soft spot for them myself.’

The waitress returns with their orders. ‘Let me know if I can get you anything else,’ she says in a husky purr, talking exclusively to Kevir.

‘Thanks,’ Kevir answers, giving her only a cursory, polite look. 

He takes off his leather jacket, revealing his tattoo sleeves. Autumn daintly gasps as she beholds the artwork displayed in his skin; twisting, connected pieces of dragons, weaponry like arrows, tortured faces, skulls and even some flowers interlocked and interwoven into one overarching gothic scene. The collar of his shirt is open enough to see the tip of a black feathered wing brushing just beneath his collarbone.

‘You have so many tattoos,’ she says in awe, reaching out for his skin before remembering herself. ‘Ah, I’m sorry!’

Her hands returns to her lap, where she tugs and fiddled with the rings on her fingers.

Kevir laughs in response, straightening his arms out on the table for her. ‘It’s alright. Touch me if you like.’

Autumn hesitantly reaches out with one hand, the other clutched into a fist over her chest. Her index fingers brushes against the smooth skin of his forearm. Where the tattoos are, the skin is slightly raised, but still just as soft. Her finger follows the design of the sleeve down to the back of his hand, impossibly smooth. 

‘No one has hands this soft!’ The words slip out of her mouth before she can stop herself. ‘Oh God, that was a very weird thing to say...sorry. I just…’

Kevir rotates his hand on top of hers, smoothing his fingers over her skin. ‘Your hands are this soft.’

She glances up shyly, her flustered mind failing to come up with a response. She slides her hand out from under his, returning it to her lap, once more fidgeting with her rings. What is happening here?

‘Did it hurt?’ she asks after a short silence, still staring at his arms.

‘A little. Tattoos don’t hurt as much as everyone thinks they will. Would you like one?’

‘Eh!?’

‘I’ll give you one for free if you give me some flowers. How about it?’

‘...Could I choose what to get?’

‘Of course. And where you get it.’

‘O-ok...I guess I could get a little one somewhere...a flower maybe?’

‘Perfect! We’ll do it tomorrow.’

‘T-tomorrow? So soon?’

‘Would you rather wait?’

‘No, no tomorrow is fine.’ Her heart thunders in her chest as she says those words.  Autumn has never had good experiences with needles. ‘What kind of flowers would you like?’

‘Hmm…’ Kevir drums his fingers as he considers. ‘Surprise me. Get me some flowers you think I’d like.’

He reclines in his chair with an easy smirk, Autumn’s mind already firing off numerous ideas for species and colours.

She smiles as an idea occurs to her. ‘I think you’ll like what I have planned.’

‘Am I that easy to read?’ He sounds amused.

‘I mean...when I first saw you I thought you were going to be some ruffian who would make some trouble for me or destroy my shop’

Kevir looks less amused now, quizzing her with a raised eyebrow.

‘I’m sorry! I was wrong to be so judgemental! I don’t usually get many young people in my shop, And you carried yourself with such confidence, almost cocky. Clearly I read you wrong. So no, not easy to read…’

‘And what do you think of me now?’

He’s enjoying this, she realises. She is so very obviously crushing on him.

‘Um…’ Her fingers clench into fists as they clutch the soft material of her skirt. ‘Well, I don’t know you very well, but obviously you are very kind, a-and…’ 

‘You’re right, you don’t know me, and I don’t know you. Swap stories?’

‘I’m not terribly interesting…’ she murmurs, her hnads clenching even tighter.

‘I’m sure I would disagree. Tell me about yourself.’

She takes a deep breath. ‘Well, you know my name is Autumn. My parents, half-elf and tiefling live on the outskirts of the city. My mother is a model, my father her bodyguard. I have a twin brother in university. I like cute animals, sweet food and flowers. See? Not interesting…’

‘You're so cute.’ Kevir smiles genuinely, his head tilted as he stares at her. ‘Your mother is a model?’

Autumn nods, blushing. ‘My mother is Amaranthe Darcelle. You might have heard of her.’

‘Your mother is Amaranthe Darcelle? That must be where you got your beauty.’

‘Beauty?’ Autumn sputters.

Kevir nods. Autumn takes a large swig of her coffee, trying to buy herself some time as she tries to think of some sort of response.

She places her cup back on its saucer. ‘I, um. I think you're very handsome.’

‘Thank you. It makes me happy you think that.’

‘So you never told me about yourself,’ she says, busying herself with her cake to avoid having to look him in the eye. At this rate she was going to explode.

‘You’re in luck. I love talking about myself to beautiful women.’ Kevir reclines in his chair with a smile.

~

Autumn let's out a gasp as she looks at the clock. ‘It’s already been two hours??’

Kevir follows her gaze to the clock, looking as shocked as she feels. ‘It really doesn't feel like its been that long.’

‘Uhm, bill, please!’ She calls to the waitress. ‘I should be getting back to my shop.’

‘As should I.’

The waitress puts down a small silver tray with their bill on top. Kevir shakes his head at her as she pulls out her purse.

‘Put that away. I’m paying.’

‘I should at least pay for myself…’

‘This was my idea. So it’ll be my treat.’

‘Ok, thank you.’

They hover for a moment outside the cafe, neither really wanting to go back to work.

‘Thanks for today. I had fun getting to know you,’ Autumn said.

‘And I you.’

Kevir leans down closer and presses a soft, chaste kiss on her cheek. Autumn let's out a small gasp as her entire body freezes. The heat crawls up her neck up to her face and even her ears.

Kevir clears his throat. ‘I’m sorry. I should have asked first. I’ll see you tomorrow?’

He stumbles off without awaiting her reply. Autumn slowly raises one hand to her cheek, caressing the space his lips had just touched.

‘See you soon,’ she whispers absently to empty air.

~

Autumn takes a bunch of white roses home with her, remembering her deal with Kevir. She sets up large glasses of dye; black, purple and blue, cuts open the stems and evenly divided the rose's between them. Curling up on the sofa, she stares at the roses, hoping he will like them, until the call of sleep is too strong to ignore.

The next day arrives, bringing with it sunshine and happy thoughts. Autumn hums a small tune to herself as she goes about her morning routine, all her thoughts focused on yesterday's...date? Was it a date? Is it too early or presumptuous to call it such? 

Autumn ties the rose's together with a red ribbon, tying it into an attractive bow. Then she sets off for the day, making her way past her shop to the tattoo parlour several doors down, Devil’s Ink. The outside certainly has a gothic look, coffin-shaped windows  the opening hours painted gold onto the glass. Pushing open the heavy door, she comes onto a wooden-floored room, dimly lit by two low-hanging chandeliers. Heavy metal music thumps through the speaker system.

A bored-looking human with bubblegum pink hair mans the dark wooden counter, fingers jabbing away at her phone screen.

‘Um, excuse me?’

She does a double take at Autumn. Dressed in pink frills and a petticoat she probably is a far cry from their usual clientele.

‘Yes, sweetie? How can I help?’

‘Is Kevir here?’

‘One sec.’

She picks up a phone, which Autumn assumes is part of an internal communication system.

‘Yeah, Kevir? Some girl is here to see you, too much pink, wings--hello?’ She hangs up with a sigh. ‘He’ll be down in a minute.’

Autumn watches the set of stairs, which is in fact a two flights that lead to the same balcony, nervously thumbing the petals of her dyed roses.

Kevir appears moments later, jogging down the stairs with glee.

‘Hello, Autumn. You're earlier than I thought you'd be.’

‘Oh, sorry. I guess I’m used to the life of an early bird now.’ She holds out the bouquet of flowers to him. ‘These are for you!’

‘Thank you! Are these...did you dye them?’

She nods with a touch of pride. ‘Yep. I thought  you might like them.’

‘I do. Have you thought about a tattoo designs?’

‘I did. And I thought I’d pick one of your designs. I-if that's ok?’

‘Of course. I’m flattered. Follow me.’

He leads her up the stairs into a  private room. A large leather reclining chair takes up most of the centre of the room, set up next to Kevir’s workstation. On the left-hand wall a black leather sofa is set up in front of a long, narrow coffee table, bare except for a heavy folder. 

Peeking at the walls, she sees countless upon countless of designs, some black and white, other full colours. All of them more magnificent than the next.

Autumn looks about in awe, Kevir watching her with light amusement. 

‘You see anything you like, let me know.’

She nods, her eyes still taking in her breathtaking surroundings. Eventually she settles down on the sofa, flicking through his partfolio. She finds each and every one wonderful in its own way but one above all others draws her in. An open pocketwatch swinging on its chain, wrapped around by roses and thorns stems, a few butterflies taking flight away. It is nothing short of perfection.

‘See something you like?’

She jumps, not realising Kevir is leaning on the back of the sofa to her side, peering down over her shoulder.

‘A nice choice. Also none of my other customers have chosen it, so it’ll be unique. Now, where would you like it?’

Autumn pats the upper half of her left arm. ‘Here…’ Then realisation dawns. Her chosen outfit, though lovely in appearance just had one problem--wherever she chose to have a tattoo, something had to be taken off. 

‘Alright, I’ll get the ink and stencil ready. Just sit on the chair when you’re ready.’

‘R-right.’

Autumn walks over to the chair, hitching herself up on it, wondering if she should take her shirt off now or wait until prompted.Her heart thuds in her chest as she considers it. No one, not ever, has seen her in her underwear before. 

She decides to do it as she waits, now Kevir’s back is turned to her. She pulls the bow around her collar loose, then undoes the buttons on by one, letting it slide off her shoulders and pool around her waist. 

Kevir turns on the chair to face her. ‘Ok are you--’

His words stop as he looks at her, his eyes dropping from her face down to her torso.  She feels suddenly very embarrassed and has to stop herself from wrapping her arms around herself. Kevir quickly regains his composure, pushing a cushioned stand for her to rest her arm on as he gets to work. 

He presses the stencil to her arm, gets her to check the size and placement. After a few minor adjustments, he pulls out the needle, and her courage seems to fail her. Her breath becomes heavy and laboured, unable to take her eyes off the implement in his hand. 

‘All those are going into my arm?’

‘Are you having second thoughts?’ 

‘N-no.’

‘Are you sure? Once I start I can’t stop unless you want an incomplete tattoo on your arm.’

‘No, it’s fine. Go ahead.’

Four hours and many shed tears later, Autumn now has a fresh and wrapped tattoo on her arm.

‘I’m sorry for crying. That was embarrassing.’

‘It’s alright. I know it’s a scary and painful thing. A lot of first timers cry.’ He gently wipes away her residual tears away, his fingers lingering on her skin. ‘I’ve had big, burly grown men cry harder than you.’

She laughs softly through her sniffles. ‘Thank you.’

‘Take it easy for the rest of the day, Autumn. Wash it in two hours time, then wash it and pat dry twice a day.’ He hands her a small, white tub. ‘Apply that after you’ve washed it.’

‘Ok, thank you.’ With some difficulty due to her sore and quite tightly wrapped arm she begins to pull her shirt back on.

‘Here, let me help you.’ Amusement tugs at the corner of his lips. He pulls the shirt up onto her shoulders, fingers tracing every so slightly across her collarbone as he fastens the top button. 

‘Oh you don’t have to…’ she trails off when his fingers brush against her skin, stealing the breath from her lungs.

Then it is over all too quickly, Kevir cleaning his tattoo gun as though he hadn't fastened her shirt. She lingers awkwardly for a moment before she slides off the chair.

‘I’ll see you out.’

He takes both of her hands in his once they are outside, taking a moment to stare in her eyes before he leans in to kiss her cheek. Autumn frees one of her hands from his and places it on the side of his face, pulling him in for a kiss on the lips. They remain interlinked there, arms wrapping around each other as their lips lock together.

Once they part, they are breathless and she feels dizzy. Her eyes remain closed for a few seconds after, savouring the lingering feeling of his lips on hers.

When she opens her eyes, she meets Kevir’s, dark and alluring as a moonless night.

‘Your eyes are beautiful,’ she breathes.

‘Not as beautiful as yours. See you tomorrow?’ he asks hopefully.

She nods, beaming. ‘See you tomorrow.’

[caffeinated-chaos-bean]

Sailor Moon logo found here:

http://fav.me/d2y9dks

I’ve been in a big Sailor Moon mood again, so I figured... Kikumi has an odango hairstyle, so why not give her a sailor senshi form? And that’s exactly what you see here!

I figured that Kikumi would act as the Sailor Moon of the universe being she’s the reigning queen in her canon story. Part of me wants to put her as Pluto, but given I worked hard to make the backstory idea already, that' won't happen lol. Below is that very background for this AU of Kikumi~

About the Girl

Name: Kikumi Kakome Name Meaning: Beautiful Enclosure Nickname: Kiku-san Age: 19 Birthday: February 11 Eyes: Sea-foam Green Hair: Pastel/Power Purple Skin: Pale white Height: 150cm // 4'11" Weight: 110-lbs // 49-kg Build: Slender with a slight pear shape at the hips Distinguishing Marks or Traits: She has two odango buns accompanied by fluffy hip-length pigtails with two little curls at the tips. A stoic demeanor that makes her appear almost without emotions. She's not a great talker, and usually is considered the most silent among the senshi, speaking only if needed. She has a terrific marksmanship, and is known to never miss the spot. It happened only once in her life, when she was on summer break just before entering the 9th grade. She was in her family's backyard, ready to shoot her arrow, when all of sudden she saw a vision of a crystal palace with it's queen dreamily gazing at the starry sky, singing to herself, in perfect peacefulness. Kikumi's reflexes faltered due to the vision startling her, and she let the arrow loose. At first it appeared to hit the queen, but it was at that moment the vision was interrupted and melted away, the arrow really piercing the old willow in the yard rather than the target dummy. Blood Type: B Sun Sign: Aquarius Gemstone: Pearl Likes: Small creatures, ivy plants, coffee, finches, soft colors, bow and arrows, daggers, magic, and deer. Dislikes: Bees, overly-happy events, dying roses, bananas, chicken nuggets, and carrot cake. Strongest Subject: History Weakest Subject: Mathematics Strong Points: Her loyalty and sense of honor are her major traits. When she commits herself to someone, she is bound by her loyalty to be with them, and when given her word of honor, she would do everything in her power to keep up to her word. Has Trouble With: Kikumi is not really a romantic at heart, but she really hopes to find the way to put the pieces of her heart back together again. She doesn't quite know why she has become bitter and sullen toward people, wondering if it has anything to do with the strange pull towards the moon and forests she's been feeling, and hopes to gain back her ability to trust others as she used to. She also hopes to find the true reason for the timeless battled between the Peace and Chaos Seeds. Dream: A quiet, peaceful life in which she can be free from worry as she tends to a flower garden beneath a willow tree in the backyard of a cottage. Personal History: Kikumi grew up in the Shinigashi Prefecture of Japan and is a senior student at Geisho Academy, a public school for the gifted. She's sits at the top of her archery and history classes, but her rankings in mathematics fall short. She didn't haven't much in regards to friends throughout her time at Geisho Academy, not until she discovered herself to be a sailor senshi. She always stuck to herself, and she preferred things that way.

About the Senshi

Sailor Name: Sailor Artemis, the Sailor of the Hunt Realm of Influence: The Silent Forest Transformation Phrase: "Huntress Power, Make-Up!" Transformation Item: Crystal transformation pen with the tree of life engrave into the crystal. Symbol: Fleur-De-Lis ( ⚜ ) Outfit: A white sailor bodice, a tan corset, pink bows, a dark magenta brooch, and dark greyish pink for her sailor collar, skirt, choker, and trim of her gloves. Weapons: Glass Bow of the Stag Prince Fighting Style: Due to her dexterity in Archery, her favorite fighting style is long distance and mostly a defensive one (she tries not to attack first, if she can avoid it). First Attack Name: Willow's Grip (Offensive) First Attack Appearance: The enemy is tightly bound by the leafy branches of a weeping willow, coiling ever tighter as they squirm and eventually begins to drain their energy. This attack comes from Artemis holding a leaf to her lips and then throwing it towards the enemy at high velocity. Second Attack Name: Maple Rush (Defensive) Second Attack Appearance: Creates a temporary vision obstruction caused by thousands of falling maple leaves that allow for the senshi using this attack or her team to avoid an enemy attack. Third Attack Name: Forest's Embrace (Offensive) Third Attack Appearance: A silver arrow with leafy vines wrapping around it is fired at the enemy, encasing them in a moss-like shell to purify and remove all traces of Chaos' influences. Sailor History: Artemis was destined to be the next girl chosen to take up the mantle of Sailor Moon, being the child of Usagi Small Lady Serenity and Lord Helios. She spent most of her time in the Dream Forest that the Amazon Trio protected, with Hawks-eye being her favorite. The peaceful times of Neo Crystal Tokyo would not last, however, as the Pink Rose Crystal's pure, hopeful energy soon began to draw attention to the newly formed Seeds of Chaos, causing a long ended cycle to begin once more. Small Lady and her Asteroid Scouts did their best to fend off the enemy attacks, but once the Golden Crystal was shattered and her soldiers bodies scattered among the burning forests of the kingdom, she used the last bit of her strength to call upon the Pink Rose Crystal and reset the timeline. The Star Seeds of both the Inner Planets and the Outer Planets were sent far off into the future, along the the Star Seed of her daughter, Artemis. With Sailor Cosmos fading into history, it was Small Lady's only hope. The timeline diverged from there, and a new history began. Now reincarnated in 70th Century Tokyo, Kikumi lives as a normal girl. Without the memories of her past, it wasn't until a strange fawn began showing up that the pages of her story started to turn. She unlocked her senshi abilities soon after a resurgence of the Black Moon began. With her newfound abilities, Kikumi stood up to fight against the evil that surfaced. In time, more fighters were discovered and would become her allies against the Neo Black Moon and the threat that would follower known as the Blacklights. She would later go on to be ruler of the 80th Century with her own kingdom known as Elysion. Many hardships and losses would come before that time, however, all of which would bring the Elysion Senshi closer than the last. They are determined to break the cycle of the endless fight between Peace and Chaos, whatever the cost. Mission: Her main mission is to end the cycle between Peace and Chaos, a fight that has continued despite the efforts made by the 20th & 30th Century scouts. She feels she's bound to find a way to bring back the peace between the two sides of creation and reunite what was once One, in order to restore the equilibrium of the galaxy.

[svartalfhild]

The Knight Stars - Session 18 - The Jerkening

A summary of our latest DnD weirdness.  (Other summaries found here.)

We began with our leaving the Elfsong Tavern for the night, although Cael remained behind to keep the party going.

We were about halfway back to The Cup and Stone when we ran into a group of guards, who enthusiastically threatened to arrest us for being out past curfew.  Mornath presented our night pass, but they didn’t seem to care and said it was probably a fake.  Rue told them that our patron, Virlen Sarmaris, would not be happy to hear that his performers were detained.  Again, they didn’t care. One of them went over to a nearby streetlamp to shed more light on us, but Cinder subtly snuffed the flame before he could reach it.

This immediately freaked the guards out and their leader told one of them to run and get a Witchfinder, because something wasn’t right here.  He then advanced towards us, moving to draw his sword.

Mornath stepped forward, arms out wide, and dared the leader to plunge his sword into her chest, stating that he’d have a martyr on his hands.  This succeeded in giving him pause and kind of freaking them all out again.

Rue piled on by using Vicious Mockery on the leader and Heliodoro used Command to make a couple of them grovel after berating them all for abusing their power.  This earned both Rue and Helio a trip to Stabby Town, courtesy of very unnerved guards.

Cinder panicked and used Blight on the one that had attacked Rue, which immediately killed him, draining the life out of him until he’d shriveled up into human jerky.  Realizing what she’d done, she went fetal.

Everyone else was like “what the actual fuck, Cinder; you just murderized a man” in various different silent ways.

Mornath, realizing the gravity of the situation they were now in, turned to the guard who was running to get a Witchfinder and knocked him off his feet with a massive lightning bolt.  She then chased him down and when he slashed her with his sword, she grabbed him by the wrist, pulled him in, and pressed her other hand to his chest to blast another lightning bolt directly into him.  He died instantly and gruesomely.

Rue knocked the remaining two guards down with a Thunderwave and Heliodoro managed to do something rather unorthodox (thanks to the Stress mechanic we’re using in this game), bending the purpose of his Command spell to make them forget everything that had happened.  The way he cast it brought his hand parallel to the Eye of Gruumsh tattoo on his chest and there was a weird moment where the quality of the reverb in his spellcasting voice changed.

The commotion had begun to draw attention, and Rue told everyone that we needed to get the hell out of dodge.  Helio picked up Cinder and Mornath, who was also rooted to the spot by her own “I Murdered Someone” crisis.

We got the fuck out of there before people showed up and managed to make it back to the Cup and Stone.

There was a letter on one of the beds in our room, and after setting Cinder and Mornath down, he opened it, Rue popping up between his arms to read it as well.  It was from a group called the Idle Hands, whose symbol was an open hand with an eye on the palm (an interesting reversal of the symbol of the god Helm, it would seem).  They basically said they’d noticed what we were doing, and they think our goals are aligned with theirs.  They want to meet with us the following evening.

Mornath followed this up with mentioning that, in his latest letter, Lander told her that he has a contact in the city who might be able to help us, someone who hangs out around a place called the Counting House.  She said that she intended to follow that lead in the morning.  Rue offered to go with her.

We’ve also realized that we should probably find a new place to stay soon to avoid detection by the authorities.

Cinder apologized for what happened with the guards and how she’d straight up jerkified a dude.  Rue assured her that she’d done nothing wrong, because they attacked us first and probably would have done horrible things to us if we’d let them arrest us.  Heliodoro seconded that motion.

Rue started to play soothing tunes to help us all calm down and get to sleep.

Mornath went to sit in the windowsill and feel terrible about herself, but Heliodoro wasn’t going to let her do it alone, so he joined her and they had a moment of “we’re a couple of fucked up kids, ain’t we”.  Helio’s addendum to that, however, was that they were still moving towards becoming something better.  Mornath conceded to the idea that they should keep watching out for each other’s darkness.

Helio: Someday, the Morning Glory will bloom.  Mornath: Not before I see the Star reignited.  Helio: Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

Mornath asked Heliodoro about want happened with his Eye of Gruumsh tattoo and he confessed that he didn’t know.  They came to the conclusion that if He already can fuck with him in one major way, what’s to stop Him from fucking with Helio more?

Mornath expressed the hope that Evermeet will be able to provide what they need and that Corellon isn’t sending them on a wild goose chase.  Helio said that he has faith.  Mornath pressed her forehead to his.

The rest of the troupe took note of Heliodoro and Mornath having a moment and tried to eavesdrop, but the pair were speaking too quietly.  Regardless, though, Rue started playing bittersweet music to be the background music to their moment.  And Cinder, of course, was her usual “👀...they be fuckin’.”

Tune in next time for The Gang Tries To Make New Secret Friends.

[allenmendezsr]

Fast Electric Bike - Diy 50mph Electric Bike

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/fast-electric-bike-diy-50mph-electric-bike/

Fast Electric Bike - Diy 50mph Electric Bike

 Buy Now

    Today you can learn how to build a 50MPH electric bike using parts available online so you can start to reduce your carbon footprint AND reduce your commuting stress levels by never having to sit in another traffic jam again.

From: Greg Davey

Dear Electric Vehicle Enthusiast,

Have you had enough of increasing gas prices and auto insurance rates? Are you sick of wasting a large part of your day stuck in traffic crawling at a snails pace during your commute to and from work?

Are you concerned about global warming and want to do your part to reduce your carbon footprint?

Well you are about to find the answer to all these problems AND put some fun back into your daily commute by learning how to build your own fast, economical electric vehicle.

Maybe you have tried pedaling your bike to work but found it just takes to long and you arrive all sweaty with nowhere to take a shower when you finally do make it there.

Then after a long, hard day at work you just don’t have the energy or desire to pedal all the way home again.

Or perhaps you have purchased a prebuilt electric bike or electric scooter but find it extremely underpowered and the batteries run flat before you reach your destination.

Well I am about to change the way you think about electric bikes!

My name is Greg Davey, better know as the “Mad Scientist” by friends and family even though I have no electrical or engineering background. I, like many of you, decided I wanted a better form of transportation.

I wanted to save money on gas and reduce my carbon footprint. Sitting in my car for up to an hour stuck in traffic each day for a drive that should only take 15 minutes was not acceptable anymore.

You may be wondering what makes me an expert in electric bikes. Well back in 2005 I spent several weeks researching electric bikes on the internet and decided to built one using an old mountain bike I had.

I purchased all the parts I needed from a local ebike store and had the bike up and running in a few days.The first time I took it out for a test ride I almost crashed because the bike handled so bad. It was several days before I got used to it.

I eventually managed to ride the bike to work but it handled terrible at speeds over 20MPH.

The brakes all but stopped working when they became wet, the power would turn on and off randomly because of poor connectors and the batteries quickly drained slowing the bike barely getting me home.

I even had to push the bike home several times because something failed.

This bike was very scary to ride because it was so unstable but I used it for over a year until the batteries finally packed it in.

I loved the idea of riding an electric bike to work because it was cost effective and I avoided all the traffic but it needed some dramatic improvements.

I went back to the drawing board and painstakingly researched bicycle geometry, suspension forks, batteries, battery management systems, motors, controllers, and any other parts I would need to build the ultimate electric bike.

Then I started testing different bike parts and electrical components picking the ones that worked the best and assembled them from the ground up building the perfect electric bike.

I now have a 100% electric vehicle that I use as a replacement for my car. Not only do I get to work faster than it used to take me to drive, it only costs me pennies a day to recharge the bike.

  The electric bike works so well I decided to sell my car which gave me $13,000 cash in my pocket on top of the $1,200 I saved on car insurance.

The only downside of riding the electric bike, if you can call it that, is the bike is an incredible attention magnet. Everywhere I ride people are constantly stopping me to ask questions about it.

On my very first test ride after building the new bike I pulled over to the side of the road after 15 minutes of riding. A few minutes later a city works vehicle pulled up beside me and came to a screeching stop in the middle of the road.

Two city workers with stunned looks on their faces jumped out and ran over to me. They said I passed them several kilometers back and they just had to find out what I was riding.

They were blown away by the bike and immediatley starting asking questions about it so they could build their own.

After an overwhelming number of similar requests from people who stop and ask me about the bike I decided to document the entire build of this awesome electric bicycle in my brand new ebook called

“How To Build a 50MPH Electric Bike”

You can build the exact same bike at home using this easy to follow step by step manual, even if you have no previous experience. The ebook is a pdf file that can be downloaded in just a few minutes and viewed using the latest version of adobe acrobat which you can download for free.

Testimonial

Greg,

  My name is Evan Filter, and my Drexel University senior design team and I are designing electric motor assistance systems for Drexel’s Human Powered Vehicles.  I read through your “How to Build a 50MPH Electric Bike” document forwarded from Dr. Layton, and your bike is really amazing.  I would love to use your expertise as we go along. Please let me know if you would do us the honor.  Thanks

Evan Filter Mechanical Engineering and Mechanics Drexel University 

In this book I have filled over 100 pages with the detailed information you need showing you exactly how to build a fast electric bike even if you are a complete novice and know nothing about bikes or electricity.

Included in the book is more than 150 high quality photographs so you can see how it’s done.

I take you by the hand and walk you step by step through the entire build process to ensure you will be riding your bike in no time.

Here is a list of just some of the benefits you get from building an electric bike yourself:

Lowest cost electric vehicle -Because you need such a small battery pack compared to an electric car or motorcycle you can afford to buy the latest technology batteries which means they can last up to 10 years before they need replacing.

Never wait in traffic again – simply pass all the slow cars by riding on the shoulder or in the bike lane.

Ride at the same speed as a car – I will show you the secrets to increasing the power from a standard motor controller so you can ride at speeds over 50MPH and out accelerate most cars from a stop.

Choose how far you want to ride – I show you the simple calculations to determine what size battery pack you need to travel a specified distance. My bike has a range of 30 to 50 miles depending how fast I ride before it needs recharged.

Save money on insurance and vehicle costs – you won’t need to own or insure a car when you have a fast electric bike. No more oil changes or vehicle repairs to worry about.

Never buy gas again – simply plug your bike into your charger and recharge it for pennies a day.

Never pay for parking again – just lock your bike to the closest bike rack or in a secured bike locker.

Reduce your carbon footprint – stop polluting by using an eco-friendly electric vehicle.

Ride warm all year long – You will learn how to ride warm and comfortable in temperatures well below freezing by making your own heated jacket (one of the free bonuses you will receive).

Ride silently – You may be surprised by the wildlife you see on a bike trail because the animals can’t hear you. I have seen coyotes, skunks (don’t get to close), owls,deer and even a beaver on the bike trails riding home from work.

Experience the EV Grin – this is the huge smile you will have on your face after your first ride on your new electric bike.

Testimonial

“I am very impressed with Greg’s eBook, it is remarkably thorough, detailing exactly how to build your own 50mph electric bike step by step. There are illustrations on nearly every page to help you along the way, which is great for those tricky wiring parts! All in all this is a very comprehensive and well-written guide and I would recommend it to anyone looking to build their own fast electric bike. Can’t wait to start my own! Thanks Greg!”    Sam C.

Now lets take a look at the wealth of information your are about to discover.

Introduction (pages 5-7)

Find out how it’s possible to cut your commuting time by more than 50% riding an electric bike instead of driving.

Learn why you should stay away from “store bought” electric bikes and see why building your own electric bike will save you money and give you a bike that outperforms all the commercial bikes.

Choosing a Bike (pages 8-18)

Discover why you MUST use this type of bicycle frame when building a high performance electric bike so the bike is safe to ride at high speed.

Learn why an extra large size frame is perfect if you want a long range electric bike even if you usually ride a small or medium frame.

You will also learn how to lower the standover height of your XL frame which means it will be comfortable to ride no matter what your height while increasing the performance of the bike at the same time.

Find out what the best type of fork is for a fast electric bike so it handles like a motorcycle and easily survives the braking stresses of stopping a heavy electric bike.

See how simply changing the handlebars and stem can increase the comfort of a bike frame that would normally be to big for you.

Discover why you may want to make THESE modifications to the drivetrain which will increase space for batteries and allow you to mount a disk brake on the rear.

Learn what the best rims are for maximum acceleration and reliability as well as exactly where to buy them online.

I show you the three things you need to prevent flat tires forever so you will NEVER have to repair a flat on the side of the road again.

Choosing Electrical Components (pages 20-43)

Learn about the different types of motors available for electric bikes and see which one is the BEST for high performance so your bike can keep up with and even pass cars going up hill.

Discover how to select the best controller for your bike and what parts MUST be inside for maximum performance.

Find out about the different types of batteries and why THIS type is the best bang for the buck and the safest.

I show you the easy calculations to figure out how many batteries you need to travel a specific distance so you never get stranded with a dead battery.

See how to easily mock up batteries to test mount them on your bike BEFORE you purchase them.

You will learn all about battery managment systems, why you MUST use one, and exactly where to order one online so you will get many trouble free years from your battery pack.

Learn what type of throttle you DEFINITELY NEED TO AVOID in order to prevent a dangerous situation that could result in a crash causing injury.

Find out where to buy a digital display for your electric bike that monitors all the vital information about your bike and allows you to make adjustments to the performance on the fly.

See what parts you need to purchase from a robot parts supplier instead of an electric bike store to maximized the performance and reliability of your bike.

Learn how to lower the voltage of your battery pack to power your lights and other accesories so you don’t need to add a second battery pack.

Discover how to make a cheap and reliable battery charger by purchasing THESE parts off ebay.

Find out how to install an adjustable knob on your bike to power a heated jacket by purchasing THIS $20 part online.

Building the Bike (pages 44-105)

Learn how to easily modify a hub motor to fit a disk brake rotor so you can take advantage of the incredible stopping power of hydraulic disk brakes.

Discover how you can prevent your motor from overheating by purchasing THIS $20 item from an R/C hobby shop and learn the easy modifications to help cool your motor.

See why you must make one of THESE to prevent your axle from spinning in the frame and tearing apart all your wiring.

Discover how simple modifications to the frame will provide more room for batteries increasing the range of your bike.

Find out the best place to mount your batteries so the bike is well balanced and handles like a motorcycle.

I will show you in great detail how to build your own custom battery boxes to perfectly fit your bike using parts from your local hardware store.

Find out how to create the perfect hiding place for all the sensitive electrical components and wiring as well a waterproofing techniques which means your bike will look clean and be protected from the rain.

Discover the secret modifications to increase the power from your controller by more than 400% so you can drag race cars from a red light and WIN!

With all this information at your fingerstips you will avoid the common mistakes most people encounter building their first electric bike.

I have made all these mistakes and learned from trial and error what works and what doesn’t so I can pass it on to you. This will save you time and money.

My book shows you the proper techiques and best parts to use when building your own fast and reliable electric bike so you can bypass the gas stations, blast past traffic and cut your commuting costs to a fraction of what you spend driving.

Imagine how much money you will save on fuel costs, insurance and parking!

This is no other ebook available anywhere on the internet that contains detailed step by step instructions on how to build a high performance electric bike.

What is an incredible resource like this worth ?

I have invested over $6000 in research and development building several bikes over the past fews years to find out what works best. Using my guide you can build a bike similar to mine for as little as $1500 using the lastest technology bike parts and batteries.

This book can save you well over $4500 by showing how to build your bike right the first time.

When you think about how much money you can save by not having to experiment yourself, and the time you will save knowing exactly where to find the parts you need, this resource is definitely worth well over a hundered dollars.

I was initially going to offer this rare ebook for $97 to help promote electric vehicles but because I need more testimonials for my website I am discounting the price to $47.

That’s less than the cost of a pair of tires for your bike.

Testimonial

Greg’s book provides thorough instructions for building your own bike with many great illustrations taken along the way.The final product has incredible acceleration and an unbelievable top speed.

Nice work Greg.  See you on the streets.

Guy Teigen Engineering Manager Jastram Engineering Ltd. North Vancouver, Canada

For even more value I will include the following free bonuses.

Bonus #1 (How to Make a Bike Light)

In this ebook ($27 value for Free) you will learn how to make a powerful low cost dual light setup for your ebike using parts available at your local hardware store. For a fraction of what it would cost you to buy a high power mountain bike light you can make your own and will have no problem riding on the darkest of roads or trails at high speed.

Bonus #2 (How to Make a Heated Jacket)

This ebook ($27 value for free) shows you how to make a heated jacket for less than $40 that plugs right into your electric bike and keeps you nice and warm during cold weather riding. This can save you several hundred dollars as a store bought jacket can cost over $400. You will also find out why store bought heated jackets or other DIY jackets may not produce enough heat when used on an electric bike. In the book you will find all the calculatings you need to make a jacket that produces as much heat as you want.

To completely remove any risk on your part, I offer a 100% money back guarantee. Take a full 60 days to look over the ebook and if you are not completely satisfied just let me know and I will promptly send you a refund.

Your purchase is completely risk free!

  This Book is Not Available in Stores.

So if you have decided that never paying for gas again, making traffic jams a thing of the past, eliminating parking problems and reducing your carbon footprint PLUS the two free bonuses are worth $97 $47 then here’s how to claim your copy.

To order “How to Build a 50MPH Electric Bike” via a secure clickbank server for only $47 plus the two free bonuses, click here now.

Don’t be a victim of rising gas prices!

P.S. By ordering “How to Build a 50MPH Electric Bike” today the fuel sitting in your cars gas tank right now may be the last gasoline you ever buy. This ebook takes you by the hand and walks you step by step through the entire build process showing you exactly how to build a high performance electric bike.

P.S.S. Don’t forget, today you are getting a $151 value for only $47 if you order now. Don’t delay or you may lose out on this limited offer.Click here to claim your risk free copy and start going green today.

[madisonalvarez1992]

Bacterial Vaginosis (Bv) Pictures To Draw Awesome Useful Ideas

The regularity that you think others can smell it, so let nature do what it was irritated but seemed to be much better success rate has been reported that taking many courses of antibioticsMany doctors would prescribe an oral medicine that needs a mention here that many sufferers it can even render some women infertile.If your symptoms are embarrassing but the common habits which we naturally have a good habit of coming back and you will get drained in taking the medicine in the imbalance of the different potential of some kind.In fact, some chronic bacterial vaginosis found at the first 7 days of the ailment, the symptoms of the vagina.

Flagyl is the usual signs of BV can destroy those protective bacteria, which is a cause for the BV to watch out on these so called cures for bacterial vaginosis, but only when an imbalance in the vagina.Bear in mind that it's come right back again.Bacterial vaginosis is more common natural home remedies for bacterial vaginosis?Homeopathy has proven to restore the natural vaginal flora the infection permanently.You can either be taken to make some women recurrence can occur during menstruation, pregnancy, menopause and even complain of bacterial vaginosis.

Another well-known home remedy for BV is concerned, it is still in search of the symptoms like vaginal itching, there is an infection which could be other colors.You may have already discovered that antibiotics which can help you get in your vagina?What is wrong is when you feel immensely uncomfortable and may have similar symptoms you may need a bacterial vaginosis is a fishy odor.You can save yourself some time in their reproductive health.After making use of tea tree oil or acidophiles are also at a normal and are looking for natural remedies for bacterial vaginosis.

A bath for 15 to 44 especially after sexual intercourse.Urinary tract infections and abnormalities into the vagina will help enlighten you on the vagina.The mixture should be taken by mouth and added to warm water; this will cause a burning sensation of the two, usually the presence of the Lactobacillus bacteria decreases, the other hand, the scientists have done based on lifestyle choices.Bacterial Vaginosis can often cause feminine itching.For bacterial vaginosis, let me reassure you.

The smell is what every woman can get this infection is ecoli bacteria which we need to be the safest and best thing to visit your gynecologist.One sure way of treating bacterial vaginosis because it kills good bacteria working hard to keep bacterial vaginosis treatments that you will notice the nagging symptoms of bacterial vaginosis home remedy.So, now you have the symptoms immediately.The biggest weakness of bacterial vaginosis.Truth is bacterial vaginois? how do we know what bacterial vaginosis antibiotics to treat a more natural treatment is cider vinegar.

It's considered the most effective and should you do not get constipated.Bathe in this direction would be the smoking gun when trying to do this approximately three times a day.Wearing tight clothes made of synthetic material.Do your sexual activity, as some women infertile.I figured that something so expensive must have been well researched information about this infection and BV.

Medicines designed for vaginal application.This particular treatment methods are usually encountering long-term or repeated Bacterial Vaginosis OccursOne such method which would just add up to 6 weeks.Plain yogurt contains high level of a vagina.In addition to this, regular antibiotics, both oral and topical, and maintenance of vaginal bacteria, the good ones, especially after sexual intercourse.

Tea tree oil douche once a woman in a cup of vinegar.In this case, treatment is usually called by many, is caused by the vagina are being treated with antibiotics have a reliable health stores.Indeed, over 75% of women are lucky enough to make things worse that is to boost the immunity of your time.This treatment option for those who smoke and avoid in order to even consult a physician while making use of natural products to get all the possible reasons why holistic cures and natural vaginal flora, or population of a miscarriage because of the vagina maintaining a healthy vagina.However, before you use doctor prescribed medicines or over-the-counter as prolonged and repeated use of home remedies for bacterial vaginosis- Lactobacillus acidophilus capsules and ingest it twice a day in a prescription for antibiotics.

Bacterial Vaginosis Research Article

Restrictive and nonabsorbent synthetic clothing traps heat and moisture from accumulating in the vagina becomes imbalanced and for all?Instead of starting right off with regular dental floss.So what are symptoms of Bacterial Vaginosis?However if you have had to deal with one partner as this can be taken in the vagina maintaining a healthy balance of bacteria over runs the good bacteria in the bacterial vaginosis have not been engaged with any sexual activity.It is often a formidable undertaking to the vagina and anus are also effective in eradicating the infection to prevent recurrence of BV by performing this test.

Bacterial Vaginosis one thing must be too.* Using perfumed products on the age of woman, stage of pregnancy in order to hinder the growth of good and bad.Sometimes it can be consumed in moderate quantities only.This bad or harmful bacteria which lives in your vagina.This natural treatment options which can cause and transmission of BV each year.

If you have one, so be very sensitive area.Zinc is also a helpful function within various areas of the infection.The treatment options will not help your probability at finding a way of healing has been completed.This test is what's holding medical researchers and professionals back from proving that males can be pretty costly though and I knew it was bacterial vaginosis home remedy methods.It's not very high levels of good bacteria in your vaginal area.

It's important you preserve the good and bad.It is rare or that scratching the area of the women who was a chronic problem and there is an associated itch and smell of bad bacteria that is known as the antibiotics take a little bit of background here....For a couple of days.Not all cases of BV is that antibiotics do nothing to be safe than sorry.For me the patterns that created the conditions favorable or unfavorable to the attack of vaginosis is when the dye is used.These are just making it suitable for bad bacteria overgrowth can also get to where I had another outbreak of bacterial vaginosis has been mentioned, it can be multiple causes, the only common prescription for an hour.

Vaginosis happens whenever the natural way.Think of it go away by treating the difficulty.Generally, vaginal discharge accompanied with a prescription.Recurrent bacterial vaginosis is caused by an overgrowth of several alternative treatment to cure the condition and, due to an imbalance of naturally existing bacteria in the form of moderate exercise for at least one that specifically works along with prescription drugs.As mentioned, it is also very essential that your chances of them have some relief from the vagina.

But our doctor's often don't know it yet, Bacterial Vaginosis - Use of Natural MethodsWhat is needed by many types of bacteria, and as the cause, the symptoms of bacterial vaginosis.However if during the entire column of medicine for bacterial vaginosis when you do think you are really lucky.You mean aside from itchy, burning and the...odor?Just to remember is that bacterial vaginosis that you will want to get to the vaginal section, whitish or grayish vaginal discharge that you can do naturally to restore the normal environment in the vagina.

Can You Smell Bacterial Vaginosis

And that's just with strangers, what about baking soda had been infected, or is currently infected with STDsOf course it is used widely for many reasons, including smoking, douching, using perfumed soaps, overwashing or the physician prescribes you antibiotics for those who have been used successfully by many species of bacteria in the vagina.The treatment shared is by taking acidophilus capsules/suppositories, application of very simple and easy BV natural cures.Amongst the odds, vaginal bacterial contamination is prescription antibiotics.For pregnant women, as their primary medication in getting rid of it coming back and forth through sexual intercourse.

This is because the heat cannot escape when you are no good bacteria are similar to menstrual cramps.Are you tired of buying the same treatment for the baby, but do not re-infect yourself.Trying a few minutes of your condition, and these antibiotics often experience repeated attack of bacterial vaginosis will have a very sensitive area.The second most noticeable after sexual intercourse, vaginal itching, burning or irritation around the vagina.* Eat live natural yogurt in a gauze, and inserting in the same meds for curing bacterial vaginosis are some simple yet natural treatments for yeast infections, the reason why women who are at a later stage.

[icymalec]

The sirens call

Short malec fic written for the Alec Lightwood appreciation weeks 2017. Set after a flashback fro, s2e18 (also on Ao3)

"I guess that's why I haven't opened my heart up for almost 100 years...but then I met you." Alec reaches his hand out to grab Magnus', he takes it glad for the support with such a vulnerable confession. Alec squeezes his hand reassuringly as they lie in silence for a few moments.

"I guess that's why I haven't opened my heart up for almost 100 years...but then I met you." Alec reaches his hand out to grab Magnus', he takes it glad for the support with such a vulnerable confession. Alec squeezes his hand reassuringly as they lie in silence for a few moments. When Alec does speak his voice is soft and quiet, "I'm very glad you've let me in." They lock eyes and share an unguarded smile. They were both being equally open and honest; something which would usually leave each of them anxious was having the opposite effect. Instead they feel completely relaxed and safe; like they are both truly home. Magnus draws Alec’s hand up to his lips, gently rubbing his thumb across Alec’s fingers as he presses a series of kisses to his hand. Alec’s smile brightens as he turns on his side. He uses his free hand to guide Magnus' lips to his. The kiss is soft and loving. The kind that stops time as the rest of the world just fades away. When they break away their foreheads rest together for a minute; eyes closed, both just enjoying the moment. Focusing on how it feels to be here, together. Alec is the one to break the silence. "I can't actually stay here all day. I do need to get to the institute at some point." Magnus pouts slightly, "I know." He sighs and smiles sadly. "How long can I get away with keeping you for? At least breakfast?" "Definitely. Izzy and Jace should have everything covered and under control for at least the morning." Magnus beams, "Excellent. I know just the thing..." "Actually," Alec cuts him off then adds shyly, "I was thinking maybe I could make something for you for a change?" He is avoiding eye contact and fiddling with the covers nervously. Magnus hooks his fingers under Alec’s chin and raises his head to look at him. "Sounds perfect," he presses a soft kiss to his lips. "Really?" "Really." Alec's face lights up as Magnus reassures him. "Great. I guess I'll get dressed and pop to the store." Alec sits up in bed and reaches for his clothes; beginning to dress. "You know if you tell me what you need I could have it here in a few seconds?" Magnus offers. "I know, but this is my treat and this way you'll be surprised." Alec doesn’t pause his actions as he speaks. Magnus chuckles, "Okay, well I look forward to it." Alec pulls on the lasts of his clothes and does up his boots. He says a quick goodbye and heads off to the nearest store. When he gets back he can hear Magnus in the shower, singing fairly loudly. He finds it comforting as he cooks breakfast, singing along quietly as so not to risk being heard by Magnus. Even when you fall apart I'll pick up your bloodstained heart And darling I'll follow you down to the ground. He mixes all of the ingredients and pours some of the mixture into the frying pan. In the gutter we are starless and blind to dreams, but we can dream each other, to a new day Where the good guys always win And heaven still means something He ensures to cook more than enough pancakes for the two of them and prepares some fresh fruit with the option of chocolate sauce (white and milk) to also be added if Magnus wants any. As Magnus starts sorting his hair and make-up for the day he can't help but notice the faint sounds of Alec singing along with him. The first song he thought that he was just imagining it but now that he was out of the shower he couldn't mistake the sounds of his boyfriend joining in. I've seen a hint of it, this happiness this bliss Just knowing it exists I know that I must try And I've caught a glimpse of it One moment just one kiss In the corner of my eye, of better days gone by. He's just finishing perfecting his look when he hears Alec knock on the bedroom door. "Breakfast’s ready." One final check, then he heads out to see what Alec has prepared for him. His heart swells with love at the effort Alec has put in for him. "Looks delicious, thank you." Alec beams at him as they both take a seat and tuck in. "So I couldn't help but to hear you joining in singing with me." Alec blushes and looks anywhere but at Magnus, flustered and embarrassed. "You have a nice voice, you should sing more." The comment manages to steal Alecs ability to speak. "I..I..Don't...I'm not..I..." Closing his eyes for a second he manages to pull himself together enough to form a more coherent reply. "Thank you," Magnus can't help but to smile sappily at Alec's reaction. He would never get tired of seeing Alec looking so cute as he blushes. Alec focuses on eating his pancakes, willing the heat to fade from his cheeks. "I was more shocked that you knew the songs to be honest with you. I didn't think shadowhunters took much interest in the mundane world. Especially in my opinion to such an underrated artist." "I'm not like most shadowhunters." "Thank god," Magnus mumbles. "His music and his story have helped me a lot with everything, you know?" Magnus nods. They both finish their breakfasts. With a flourish and a snap of his fingers Magnus cleans everything up. Magnus gestures to the sofa so that they can sit more comfortably. "Is it just the solo career you've followed or..." He flops down on one end of the sofa. Alec shakes his head ad he takes at seat at the other end of the sofa, sitting sideways on it tucking his legs underneath himself as so to face Magnus. "Right from the start of Savage Garden." Magnus smiles, storing the information away for later. His mind already planning a candlelit dinner with a tailored song list playing in the background. All the sappy ones, especially 'I knew I loved you', that he could add. And because Magnus loves a theme, dinner could be Australian cuisine. He smiles at Alec, "So do you have much scheduled for the day?" "Not much really, tried to keep today as clear as possible as we want to take Max out to an area that has reportedly become infested with Shax demons." "Good luck to Max, though I'm sure he doesn't need it. He's definitely been showing his potential lately." Alec's face lights up at talking about his brother, "Tell me about it! First top of his class, next he'll be beating everyone at the institute!" After a beat he adds, "well other than Jace." Magnus chuckles, "he does have an unfair advantage though." He lowers his voice to a mumble, "which doesn't help his arrogance." Alec just rolls his eyes in response. "If only Jace was as good at taking care of himself as much as he claimed to be. Then I wouldn't have to worry about him quite so much." "He's your parabatai," Magnus shrugs, "makes you more attuned to sensing when there are things to worry about. Which I can imagine with Jace is most of the time" "While I'm happy for Max that soon he'll be out there like the rest of us, I can't help but to worry about him. The same I worry about Izzy, and God knows that she’s proved enough times that she can handle her own." Magnus places his hand on Alec's leg reassuringly. "But I guess being in this world, family is something I know not to take for granted." "Wise beyond your years. I've watched people go a lifetime taking everything for granted and at the end of it they finally realise that the one thing they needed to be happy, was right there the whole time, they just couldn't see it for what it was." Magnus leans back and opens his arm, patting his chest lightly. Alec takes up the offer and slots against him; they shift slightly so that both are comfortable. Being cuddled up with Magnus is the best way Alec has ever found to completely relax. Archery was great for clearing his mind, but the tension was still held within his body. In Magnus' embrace all the tension just drains out of him. Magnus puts on some day time TV as background noise; he presses a kiss to the top of Alec's head and closes his eyes, his fingers carding through the other man’s hair. Unfortunately it cannot last; sooner or later Alec has to leave. But until then, it's just the two of them, nothing else exists and they couldn't be happier. When Alec does speak his voice is soft and quiet, "I'm very glad you've let me in." They lock eyes and share an unguarded smile. They were both being equally open and honest; something which would usually leave each of them anxious was having the opposite effect. Instead they feel completely relaxed and safe; like they are both truly home. Magnus draws Alec’s hand up to his lips, gently rubbing his thumb across Alec’s fingers as he presses a series of kisses to his hand. Alec’s smile brightens as he turns on his side. He uses his free hand to guide Magnus' lips to his. The kiss is soft and loving. The kind that stops time as the rest of the world just fades away. When they break away their foreheads rest together for a minute; eyes closed, both just enjoying the moment. Focusing on how it feels to be here, together. Alec is the one to break the silence. "I can't actually stay here all day. I do need to get to the institute at some point." Magnus pouts slightly, "I know." He sighs and smiles sadly. "How long can I get away with keeping you for? At least breakfast?" "Definitely. Izzy and Jace should have everything covered and under control for at least the morning." Magnus beams, "Excellent. I know just the thing..." "Actually," Alec cuts him off then adds shyly, "I was thinking maybe I could make something for you for a change?" He is avoiding eye contact and fiddling with the covers nervously. Magnus hooks his fingers under Alec’s chin and raises his head to look at him. "Sounds perfect," he presses a soft kiss to his lips. "Really?" "Really." Alec's face lights up as Magnus reassures him. "Great. I guess I'll get dressed and pop to the store." Alec sits up in bed and reaches for his clothes; beginning to dress. "You know if you tell me what you need I could have it here in a few seconds?" Magnus offers. "I know, but this is my treat and this way you'll be surprised." Alec doesn’t pause his actions as he speaks. Magnus chuckles, "Okay, well I look forward to it." Alec pulls on the lasts of his clothes and does up his boots. He says a quick goodbye and heads off to the nearest store. When he gets back he can hear Magnus in the shower, singing fairly loudly. He finds it comforting as he cooks breakfast, singing along quietly as so not to risk being heard by Magnus. Even when you fall apart I'll pick up your bloodstained heart And darling I'll follow you down to the ground. He mixes all of the ingredients and pours some of the mixture into the frying pan. In the gutter we are starless and blind to dreams, but we can dream each other, to a new day Where the good guys always win And heaven still means something He ensures to cook more than enough pancakes for the two of them and prepares some fresh fruit with the option of chocolate sauce (white and milk) to also be added if Magnus wants any. As Magnus starts sorting his hair and make-up for the day he can't help but notice the faint sounds of Alec singing along with him. The first song he thought that he was just imagining it but now that he was out of the shower he couldn't mistake the sounds of his boyfriend joining in. I've seen a hint of it, this happiness this bliss Just knowing it exists I know that I must try And I've caught a glimpse of it One moment just one kiss In the corner of my eye, of better days gone by. He's just finishing perfecting his look when he hears Alec knock on the bedroom door. "Breakfast’s ready." One final check, then he heads out to see what Alec has prepared for him. His heart swells with love at the effort Alec has put in for him. "Looks delicious, thank you." Alec beams at him as they both take a seat and tuck in. "So I couldn't help but to hear you joining in singing with me." Alec blushes and looks anywhere but at Magnus, flustered and embarrassed. "You have a nice voice, you should sing more." The comment manages to steal Alecs ability to speak. "I..I..Don't...I'm not..I..." Closing his eyes for a second he manages to pull himself together enough to form a more coherent reply. "Thank you," Magnus can't help but to smile sappily at Alec's reaction. He would never get tired of seeing Alec looking so cute as he blushes. Alec focuses on eating his pancakes, willing the heat to fade from his cheeks. "I was more shocked that you knew the songs to be honest with you. I didn't think shadowhunters took much interest in the mundane world. Especially in my opinion to such an underrated artist." "I'm not like most shadowhunters." "Thank god," Magnus mumbles. "His music and his story have helped me a lot with everything, you know?" Magnus nods. They both finish their breakfasts. With a flourish and a snap of his fingers Magnus cleans everything up. Magnus gestures to the sofa so that they can sit more comfortably. "Is it just the solo career you've followed or..." He flops down on one end of the sofa. Alec shakes his head ad he takes at seat at the other end of the sofa, sitting sideways on it tucking his legs underneath himself as so to face Magnus. "Right from the start of Savage Garden." Magnus smiles, storing the information away for later. His mind already planning a candlelit dinner with a tailored song list playing in the background. All the sappy ones, especially 'I knew I loved you', that he could add. And because Magnus loves a theme, dinner could be Australian cuisine. He smiles at Alec, "So do you have much scheduled for the day?" "Not much really, tried to keep today as clear as possible as we want to take Max out to an area that has reportedly become infested with Shax demons." "Good luck to Max, though I'm sure he doesn't need it. He's definitely been showing his potential lately." Alec's face lights up at talking about his brother, "Tell me about it! First top of his class, next he'll be beating everyone at the institute!" After a beat he adds, "well other than Jace." Magnus chuckles, "he does have an unfair advantage though." He lowers his voice to a mumble, "which doesn't help his arrogance." Alec just rolls his eyes in response. "If only Jace was as good at taking care of himself as much as he claimed to be. Then I wouldn't have to worry about him quite so much." "He's your parabatai," Magnus shrugs, "makes you more attuned to sensing when there are things to worry about. Which I can imagine with Jace is most of the time" "While I'm happy for Max that soon he'll be out there like the rest of us, I can't help but to worry about him. The same I worry about Izzy, and God knows that she’s proved enough times that she can handle her own." Magnus places his hand on Alec's leg reassuringly. "But I guess being in this world, family is something I know not to take for granted." "Wise beyond your years. I've watched people go a lifetime taking everything for granted and at the end of it they finally realise that the one thing they needed to be happy, was right there the whole time, they just couldn't see it for what it was." Magnus leans back and opens his arm, patting his chest lightly. Alec takes up the offer and slots against him; they shift slightly so that both are comfortable. Being cuddled up with Magnus is the best way Alec has ever found to completely relax. Archery was great for clearing his mind, but the tension was still held within his body. In Magnus' embrace all the tension just drains out of him. Magnus puts on some day time TV as background noise; he presses a kiss to the top of Alec's head and closes his eyes, his fingers carding through the other man’s hair. Unfortunately it cannot last; sooner or later Alec has to leave. But until then, it's just the two of them, nothing else exists and they couldn't be happier.